ught I was going to perdition. I was sick of "the engagement." What
business was it of Peter's and mine, anyhow? It had nothing to do with
us, really. Then I thought of the time Peter and I quarrelled, and how
DEAR Lyman Wilde was about it, and how he brought Peter back to me--just
to say the name of Lyman Wilde always makes me feel better. I adore him,
and always shall, and Peter knows it. If I could only go back to the
Settlement and hear him say, "Little girl," in that coaxing voice of
his! He is one of those men who are always working so hard for other
people that you forget he hasn't anything for himself.

Thinking of him made me quite chipper again, and I went in and got his
picture and stuck it up in the mantel-piece and put flowers in front
of it. When Peter came in I told him about everything, and of course he
refused to write to Harry Goward, as I knew he would. He said it was all
rot, anyway, and that Harry was a nice boy, but not worth making such
a fuss over. He didn't know that he was particularly stuck on Peggy's
marrying Harry Goward, anyway--but there was no use in any one's
interfering. Peggy was the person to write. Finally he said he'd
telephone to Harry the next day to come out and stay at our house over
Sunday, and then he and Peggy could have a chance to settle it.

But Peter didn't telephone. He was late at the Works the next
day--though not nearly so late as he often is; but Mr. Talbert has a
perfect fad about every one's getting there on time; it's one of the
things there's always been a tug about between him and Peter. I should
think he'd have realized long ago that Peter NEVER will be on time, and
just make up his mind to it, but he won't. Well, Peter came back again
to the house a little after nine, perfectly white; he said he'd never
enter the factory again....

His father was in a towering rage when Peter went in; he spoke to
Peter so that every one could hear him, and then--Oh, it was a dreadful
time!...

Alice told me afterward that Maria had found her father in the garden
before breakfast. She insinuated, in HER way, all kinds of dreadful
things about Harry Goward and Aunt Elizabeth, and there was a scene at
the breakfast-table--and Peggy was taken so ill that they had to send
for Dr. Denbigh. I don't know what will happen when Aunt Elizabeth comes
home.

V. THE SCHOOL-GIRL, by Elizabeth Jordan

Except for Billy, who is a boy and does not count, I am the youngest
person in