er's ointment of joy there was a fly or two. So very, very few
things are flawless in this world, even on the golden road.

"Of course I'm awful glad that father has come back and that ma won't
have to wash any more," he said with a sigh, "but there are two things
that kind of worry me. My Aunt Jane always said that it didn't do any
good to worry, and I s'pose it don't, but it's kind of a relief."

"What's worrying you?" asked Felix.

"Well, for one thing I'll feel awful bad to go away from you all. I'll
miss you just dreadful, and I won't even be able to go to the same
school. I'll have to go to Markdale school."

"But you must come and see us often," said Felicity graciously.
"Markdale isn't so far away, and you could spend every other Saturday
afternoon with us anyway."

Peter's black eyes filled with adoring gratitude.

"That's so kind of you, Felicity. I'll come as often as I can, of
course; but it won't be the same as being around with you all the time.
The other thing is even worse. You see, it was a Methodist revival
father got converted in, and so of course he joined the Methodist
church. He wasn't anything before. He used to say he was a Nothingarian
and lived up to it--kind of bragging like. But he's a strong Methodist
now, and is going to go to Markdale Methodist church and pay to the
salary. Now what'll he say when I tell him I'm a Presbyterian?"

"You haven't told him, yet?" asked the Story Girl.

"No, I didn't dare. I was scared he'd say I'd have to be a Methodist."

"Well, Methodists are pretty near as good as Presbyterians," said
Felicity, with the air of one making a great concession.

"I guess they're every bit as good," retorted Peter. "But that ain't the
point. I've got to be a Presbyterian, 'cause I stick to a thing when I
once decide it. But I expect father will be mad when he finds out."

"If he's converted he oughtn't to get mad," said Dan.

"Well, lots o' people do. But if he isn't mad he'll be sorry, and
that'll be even worse, for a Presbyterian I'm bound to be. But I expect
it will make things unpleasant."

"You needn't tell him anything about it," advised Felicity. "Just keep
quiet and go to the Methodist church until you get big, and then you can
go where you please."

"No, that wouldn't be honest," said Peter sturdily. "My Aunt Jane
always said it was best to be open and above board in everything, and
especially in religion. So I'll tell father right out, but I'll wait a
fe