I hate that Farmer Weeks!" she exclaimed.

Eleanor Mercer sighed and shook her head. She couldn't blame Zara for
hating the man, and yet, as she well knew, the spirit in the little
foreign girl that cherished hatred and ideas of revenge was bad--bad for
her. But how to eradicate it, and to make Zara feel more charitable,
was something that puzzled the Guardian mightily, was, as she foresaw,
likely to puzzle her still more. She left the two girls together, then,
to answer a call from outside the room.

"I don't exactly _like_ Farmer Weeks myself," said Bessie,
thoughtfully, when they were alone. "But what's the use of hating him,
Zara?"

"Why, Bessie! He made us run away from Hedgeville--he made me anyhow.
And if he'd had his way, he'd have taken me back, and had me bound over
to work for him just for board until I was twenty-one, if I hadn't
starved to death first. You know what a miser he is."

"Yes, that's true enough, Zara. But, after all, if it hadn't happened
that way, we'd never have met Miss Eleanor and the Camp Fire Girls,
would we? And you're not sorry for that, are you?"

Zara's face, which had grown hard, softened.

"No, indeed, Bessie! They're the nicest people I ever did know, except
you. But, even after we were with them, and had started to come to the
city with them, he caught me, and if it hadn't been for you following us
and guessing where he'd put me, I'd be with him now."

"Well, you're not, Zara. And you want to try to think of the good things
that happen. Then you won't have time to remember all the bad things,
and they won't bother you any more than if they'd never happened at all.
Don't you see!"

"Well, I'll try, Bessie. I guess they can't hurt us here, anyhow, or on
the farm. I think we're going to have lots of fun on the farm."

"I hope so, Zara. But I've often read about how jolly farms are--in
books. In the books, you don't have to get up at four o'clock on the
cold winter mornings to do chores, and you don't have to work all the
time, the way I had to do for Maw Hoover."

"I guess that was just because it was Maw Hoover, Bessie, and not
because it was on a farm. She'd have been mean to you, and made you work
all the time, just the same, if it had been a farm or wherever it was. I
think it's people that make you happy or unhappy, not other things."

"I guess that's about right, Zara. I'm awfully glad you're going to see
your father in the morning. I bet he'll be glad to see you."