.
Mrs. Englefield was not like herself. Anne and Letitia were gloomy and
silent. The air was heavy. Even Clarissa's beautiful eyes, when they
were slowly lifted up to look at somebody, according to her custom,
seemed cold and distant as they were not at first. Clarissa visited
several sick people and carried them nourishing things; but she looked
calm disapproval when Maria proclaimed that Tilly had been all up Lilac
Lane to look for a stray Sunday-School scholar. Mrs. Englefield laughed
and did not interfere.

"I would never let a child of mine go there alone," said Mrs. Candy.

"There is no danger in Shadywalk," said Mrs. Englefield.

"You will be sorry for it, sister."

"Well; I am sorry for most things, sooner or later," said Mrs.
Englefield.

So weeks went by; until it came to be the end of winter, and something
of spring was already stealing into the sunlight and softening the air;
that wonderful nameless "something," which is nothing but a far-off
kiss from Spring's fingers. One Sunday Mrs. Englefield had gone to bed
with a headache; and hastening away from the dinner-table, Matilda went
off to her appointment. Mr. Ulshoeffer had been propitious; he let the
little girls have the key on the inside of the schoolroom door; and an
hour before it was time for the classes of the school to be gathering,
the three friends met at the gate and went in. They always sat in a
far-off corner of one of the transepts, to be as cozy as possible. They
were all punctual to-day, Ailie having the key of the door.

"Girls, don't you get confused sometimes, with the things you hear
people say?" she asked, as she unlocked the door. "I do; and then
sometimes I get real worried."

"So do I get worried!" Mary Edwards assented. "And I don't know what to
say--that's the worst of it."

"Now only to-day," Ailie went on, as they walked up the matted aisle
with a delicious sense of being free and alone and confidential, "I
heard some one say it was no use for children to be Christians; he said
they didn't know their own minds, and don't know what they want, and by
and by it will all be smoke. And when I hear such things, it affects me
differently. Sometimes I get mad; and then sometimes it takes the
strength all out of me."

"But if we have the right sort of strength," said Matilda, "people
can't take it from us, Ailie."

"Well, mine seems to go," said Ailie. "And then I feel bad."

"We know what we want," said Mary, "if we are chi