Softly Bonnie went through these days, tender, happy, blithe as a bird; a song on her lips whenever she went about the house; a caress in her very touch for the dear old people who had been father and mother to her in her loneliness; realizing only vaguely what it was going to be to them when she was gone and they were all alone again.  For her heart was so full of her own joy she could not think a sad thought.

But one afternoon she came home from school a little earlier than usual.  Opening the door very softly that she might come on Mother Marshall and surprise her, she heard voices in the dining-room, and paused to see if there was company.

“It’s going to be mighty hard to have Bonnie leave us,” said Father Marshall, with a wistful quaver.

There was a soft sigh over by the window, then Mother Marshall:  “Yes, Father, but we mustn’t think about it, or the next thing we know we’ll let her see it.  She’s the kind of girl that would turn around and say she couldn’t get married, perhaps, if she got it in her head we needed her.  She’s got a grand man, and I’m just as glad as I can be about it”—­there was a gulp like a sob over by the window.—­“I wouldn’t spoil her happiness for anything in the world!” The voice took on a forced cheerfulness.

“Sure!  We wouldn’t want to do that!”

“It’s ’most as bad as when Stephen was going away, though.  I have to just shut my eyes when I go by her bedroom door and think about how we fixed it up for her and counted on how she’d look, and all.  I just couldn’t stand it.  I had to shut the door and hurry down-stairs.”

“Well, now, Mother, you mustn’t feel that way.  You know the Lord sent her first.  Maybe He has some other plan.”

“Oh, I know!” said Mother, briskly.  “I guess we can leave that to Him; only seems like I can’t bear to think of anybody else coming to be in her room.”

“Oh no! no!  We couldn’t stand for that!” said Father, quickly.  “We’d have to keep it for her—­for them—­when they come home to visit!  If any other party comes along I reckon we’ll just build out a bay window on the kitchen chamber, and fix that up.  Now don’t you worry, Mother.  You know he promised to bring her home a lot, and it ain’t as if he hadn’t got money enough to travel, let alone a nottymobeel.  I shouldn’t wonder maybe if we could go see them, even, some time.  We could get to see the university then, too, and go look at Steve’s room.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Mother?”

Bonnie did not go into the dining-room to surprise them.  Instead, she stole away down in the orchard to hide her tears.

A little later she saw the postman ride up to the letter-box on the gate-post and drop in a letter, and all else was forgotten.

Yes, from Paul!  A lovely, big, thick letter!

Mother and Father Marshall and their sadness suddenly vanished from her thoughts, and she hurried back to a big stump in the orchard, where she often read her letters.