side o' the Picknells. It give
me a fit o' sickness; it did so," said Serena mournfully. "I can't bear
to think about her never. Oh, she was one of the prettiest girls you
ever saw. I try to go every summer an' lay a bunch o' pink roses on to
her grave; she used to like 'em. I know 't was a fault o' youth an'
hastiness, but I ain't never forgot it all my long life. I tell you with
a reason. Folks says it takes two to make a quarrel but only one to end
it. Now you bear that in your mind."

Betty glanced at old Serena, and saw two great tears slowly running down
her faded cheek. She was much moved by the sad little story, and
Serena's pretty friend and the pink roses. She wondered what the quarrel
had been about, but she did not like to ask, and as Serena still held
one hand she put the other over it, while Serena took the corner of her
afternoon apron to wipe away the tears.

"It's very hard to be good, isn't it, Serena dear?" asked Betty.

"It's master hard, sweetin's," answered Serena gravely,--"master hard;
but it can be done with help." They sat there on the shady doorstep for
some minutes without speaking. A robin was chirping loud, as if for
rain, high in one of the elms overhead, and the sun was getting low.
Presently Serena was mindful of her evening duties and rose to go in,
but not before Betty had put both arms round her and kissed her.

"There, there! somebody'll see you," protested the kind soul, but her
face shone with joy. "Which d' you want for your supper, shortcakes or
some o' them crispy rye ones?" she asked, trying to be very
matter-of-fact. As for Betty, she turned and went down the yard and out
of the carriage gate and straight across the wide street. She opened the
Becks' front door and saw Becky at the end of the entry trying to escape
to the garden.

"Don't let's be grumpy," she said in a friendly tone, "I've come over to
make up."

Becky tried to preserve a stern expression, but somehow there was a
warmth at her heart which suddenly came to the surface in a smile and
the two girls were friends again. That night Betty put down a black
mark, but not without feeling that the day had ended well in spite of
its dark shadows.

"I don't believe that we ought to keep the sin books secret," she told
the members of the club one afternoon when the second week's trial was
over and there had been four or five good days for encouragement. "I
don't wish everybody to know, but now that we find how much