hursday."

"O, dear," sighed Peace. "We go home in two days more. I wish I could
stay and help. But then I'm glad the kids are going to have some decent
clothes anyway."

CHAPTER XIX

WONDERFUL TIDINGS

"Well," sighed Peace blissfully, while Mrs. Campbell was helping her
dress for Sunday School the first Sunday after her return from Fairview,
"this has been a busy week. There hasn't been a minute to spare, yet it
doesn't seem like this could be Sunday already. Where has the time gone
to?"

"I sh'd think you would know," grunted Allee from her seat on the rug
where she was laboriously lacing her shoes. "You have walked your legs
off, pretty near,--haven't you?"

"Mercy, no! I haven't done half the tramping I could have done if these
old crutches didn't make walking so slow."

Behind her back, the white-haired grandmother smiled her amusement, for
since Peace's home-coming five days before, the child had not been still
a minute. From garret to cellar, from garden to river, and from one end
of the street to the other she had hopped, renewing old
acquaintanceships, relating her experiences, and thoroughly enjoying
herself. After her long absence from Martindale and the weary months of
imprisonment, it was such a wonderful privilege to be able to get about
again, even if it must be with the aid of those two awkward crutches.
There were so many things to tell and so many people to tell them to.
So the grandmother smiled behind Peace's back, for it seemed to her that
no one person in perfect trim could have accomplished more in those five
days than had the brown-eyed maid on crutches.

"I can't see as they make much difference," Allee persisted. "You have
gone everywhere you wanted to, haven't you?"

"O, yes, except to St. John's and of course his whole family's been away
on their vacation, so I couldn't see them. I 'xpect they are home now,
though, 'cause he is to preach at his own church today. Grandpa said
we'd take the horses this afternoon if it doesn't rain and drive up
there. It don't look much like rain now, does it, though it did when we
first got up. I do hope it won't,--not until we've got started too far
to turn back anyway. I want to see Aunt Pen, too. My! I can hardly wait
for afternoon to get here. It has been such a long time since I've seen
them all. Bessie is 'most a year old now, ain't she? She won't know me,
and I s'pose likely even Glen has forgotten. I telephoned three times
yesterday