e as interesting to him and the Corner House girls as a
new suit, appeared at the First Church, however, which they all
attended. Mr. Bob Buckham was at the morning service.

The girls and Neale did not see the farmer till after the sermon. Then
it was Agnes who first spied him, and she hurried back to where the old
man was shaking hands with two or three of the elderly members of the
congregation, who knew him.

Mr. Buckham in his Sunday clothes looked no more staid and respectable
than he did at home; and his eyes twinkled as merrily and his smile was
just as kind as on week-days.

"Hullo! here's one of my smart little friends," he exclaimed, welcoming
Agnes. "How's your mind now, miss? Quite calm _and_ contented?"

"I feel better than I did," confessed Agnes. "But I'm paying for my
wrong-doing just the same. You know, Mr. Buckham, you said you thought
we almost always got punished for our sins right here and now. We are.
We girls who stole from you, you know."

"Sho'! didn't I tell you to say no more about that?" cried the farmer.

"But Mr. Marks, our principal, is punishing us," Agnes told him.

"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Mr. Buckham, innocently.

"Eva and Myra and Mary and a lot of them, as well as myself, are
forbidden to take any part in the play that is going to be given for the
benefit of the Women's and Children's Hospital."

"Wal, that's what I call rough!" the farmer admitted. "To my mind the
berries weren't worth all this catouse over 'em. No, sir!"

"But what did you _suppose_ he would do to us?" asked the Corner House
girl, desperately.

"Who?"

"Mr. Marks."

"Why--I dunno," said the puzzled farmer. "It re'lly is too bad he
l'arned about you gals playin' that prank, ain't it?"

Agnes stared at him. She could not understand this at all. And
immediately Mr. Buckham went on to say: "The Women's and Children's
Hospital, eh? That's where your friend, Mrs. Eland, is matron, isn't
it?"

"She is Tess' and Dot's friend," explained Agnes.

"Wal! I come inter town pertic'lar to-day to see her. I got kind of a
funny letter from her this week."

"From Mrs. Eland?"

"Yep. Marm said I'd better answer it in person. Word o' mouth ain't so
ha'sh as a letter, ye know. And I ain't no writer myself."

Had he said this to Ruth, for instance, she would doubtless have been
interested enough to have asked some questions, and so discovered what
trouble Dot's busy tongue had started. Agnes, however, only