That same afternoon's mail brought her another communication from Marcus, carelessly penciled in blue this time, which said:
The young she loves, The innocent doves, And her heart is quite tender, I ween, And little boys Are ceaseless joys Up from six all the way to sixteen.
How she preaches, As she teaches With a glow in every feature, And they, Lack-a-day, Fall in love with their teacher!
There was no denying that it was pleasing, and Selina determined, if it was not lapsing too much into that overearnestness again, that she would put this and the preceding one from Marcus away with certain other treasures. There are kinds in straws to show the way the wind blew, that some day surely will be pleasing to bring forth and show, not alone to one's children but grandchildren. Maud did even more in this sort of prudential provisioning; she saved _all_ illuminating and perhaps valuable data, lists of her reading, theater programs, dancing-cards with personal tributes in masculine writing upon them, so that if in time need should come for biographical matter concerning her, it would be there. And she frankly declared, too, that she had every enthusiastic and honorable intention that such material should be needed. But then one had learned not to pattern on Maud too closely!
At the close of Marcus' gratifying stanzas he had added a further line:
Had no idea until recently you were taking this thing of teaching and earning your way in earnest. Come down to my place at 3:30 to-day and see me.
By place, Marcus meant his office at the newspaper building. It was three o'clock when the postman left the note. When Mamma heard about it she demurred at first, saying it was no place for a young girl to be going, but when Selina pointed out that she had only to go up a stairway opening on the street to a door at its head, she gave way.
"Put on your spring suit and that jabot I made you to show at the throat of your jacket when you went up to Eadston," she directed, "and wear your best gloves and your good hat. No, the piqué won't do, Selina; a business office calls for wool street clothes."
"And let us hope he'll be there when you get there," said Auntie. "It's mighty little dependence I ever put on Marcus."