Gee, but we did cry it out together! The God she believed in has wiped
away her tears long ago; this minute I can scarcely see the paper for
mine. If you could call anything happiness, that was mixed with
feeling like that, why, then, we were happy about Laddie. But from
things I heard father and mother say, I knew they could have borne his
going away, and felt a trifle better than they did. I was quite sure
they had stopped thinking that he was going to lose his soul, but they
couldn't help feeling so long as that old mystery hung over Pryors that
he might get into trouble through it. Father said if it hadn't been
for Mr. Pryor's stubborn and perverted notions about God, he would like
the man immensely, and love to be friends; and if Laddie married into
the family we would have to be as friendly as we could anyway. He said
he had such a high opinion of Mr. Pryor's integrity that he didn't
believe he'd encourage Laddie to enter his family if it would involve
the boy in serious trouble. Mother didn't know. Anyway, the thing was
done, and by fall, no doubt, Laddie would leave us.

Just when we were trying to keep a stiff upper lip before him, and
whistling as hard as ever he had, to brace our courage, a letter came
for mother from the head of the music school Shelley attended, saying
she was no longer fit for work, so she was being sent home at once, and
they would advise us to consult a specialist immediately. Mother sat
and stared at father, and father went to hitch the horses to drive to
Groveville.

There's only one other day of my life that stands out as clearly as
that. The house was clean as we could make it. I finished feeding
early, and had most of the time to myself. I went down to the Big
Hill, and followed the top of it to our woods. Then I turned around,
and started toward the road, just idling. If I saw a lovely spot I sat
down and watched all around me to see if a Fairy really would go
slipping past, or lie asleep under a leaf. I peeked and peered softly,
going from spot to spot, watching everything. Sometimes I hung over
the water, and studied tiny little fish with red, yellow, and blue on
them, bright as flowers. The dragonflies would alight right on me, and
some wore bright blue markings and some blood red. There was a blue
beetle, a beautiful green fly, and how the blue wasps did flip, flirt
and glint in the light. So did the blackbirds and the redwings. That
embankment was left