ngels which fly away and never
come back, but good, _sensitive_ blessings that make the world better.
He says you've got a _cute minagination_, and when you wake up and help
Gail bear the slender burden on your shoulders, everything will be all
right."

Profound silence reigned in the barn for what seemed an eternity to
Peace, and then Faith burst forth hotly, "I never saw such a meddlesome
child in all my born days, Peace Greenfield! What did you tell the
doctor? Why did you chase to him in the first place? Do you want to get
the whole neighborhood to gossiping about our affairs? I suppose you
gave him the whole family history, from the time of Adam."

"I never did!" Peace indignantly denied. "I don't know of any Adam 'mong
our relations. I found Gail upstairs crying about you this morning, and
Hope promised to do all your work. I couldn't see why Hope should do
your work unless you were going to be an angel, so I went to the doctor
about it, and that is why he told me. He said we must help Gail all we
could--"

"Why don't you, then, instead of causing her trouble whenever you turn
around? You are into something the whole time to fret and worry her.
Don't talk about me until you are perfect yourself!"

"I ain't perfect, but I _try_ to help, and you know it. Don't I help
Cherry with the dishes every single day, and dust the parlor and bring
in wood, and hasn't Hope turned over setting the table to me?"

"And don't you break half the dishes?"

"I've broken only one plate and three cups, and I bought new ones out of
my snow money, so there! When summer comes I'm going to pick
strawberries for Mr. Hartman, and when I've paid up for those I spoiled
last year, I'm going to give the rest of the money I earn to Gail to
help her all I can. 'F I could make the lovely cakes you do, I'd go
'round the streets peddling them."

"If you were I, you'd do wonders," Faith broke in bitterly.

"Well, Mrs. Abbott told me herself that if the village baker could cook
like that she would get all her delicate things there instead of
bothering the girl with them, 'cause, in a little subu'b like this, she
can't get a cook and a second girl to stay at the same time, and a
common hired girl doesn't know beans about cakes and nice cookery. Mrs.
Lacy said she'd take a cake reg'lar every week if she could get such
nice ones as yours; and the butcher--guess what the butcher asked me
yesterday! I went in his shop on my way home from the ministe