e older sisters, they answered cheerily, "Be
patient, girlie, it takes a long time for such a hurt to heal," and
turned their heads away lest she should read the growing conviction in
their eyes.

"It's _so_ hard to be patient," she protested mournfully. "You bet I'll
never climb another roof."

"No," they sighed sadly to themselves, "I am afraid you never will."

But the cruel truth of the matter was broken to poor Peace at a most
unexpected moment. She was resting under her favorite oak, close to the
library window, one warm afternoon, planning as usual for the day when
she could walk again; and lulled by the drowsy hum of the bees and the
soft swish of the leaves above her, she drifted off to slumberland. A
slanting beam of the setting sun waked her as it fell across her face,
and she sat up abruptly, hardly realizing what had roused her. Then she
became aware of voices issuing from the library beyond, and Allee's
agonized voice cried out, "O, Grandpa, you don't mean that she will
_never_, _never_ walk again? Must she lie there all the rest of her life
like the Lilac Lady and Sadie Wenzell until the angels come and get her?
Grandpa, must she _die_ like they did?"

With a startled gasp, Peace leaned forward in her chair, then sank back
among the pillows with a dreadful, sickening sensation gripping at her
heart. They were talking about her! She strained her ears to catch the
President's reply, but could hear only an indistinct rumble of voices
mingled with Allee's sharp sobs. So the angels had carried Sadie Wenzell
to her home beyond the Gates! Idly she wondered when it had happened and
why she had not been told. It had been one of her dearest plans to visit
Sadie some day and see for herself how she enjoyed the scrapbooks which
had cost Peace so much labor and lament. Now Sadie was gone.

"Grandpa, Grandpa, why couldn't _I_ have been the one to fall and hurt
my back?" wailed the shrill voice from the open window. "'Twouldn't have
made so much difference then, but Peace!--O, Grandpa, I can't _bear_ to
think of her lying there all the long years--"

Again the voice trailed away into silence, and Peace lay stunned by the
significance of the words. All her life chained to a chair! All her life
a helpless invalid like the Lilac Lady! The black night of despair
descended about her and swallowed her up.

They thought her asleep when they came to wheel her into the house
before the dew should fall; and as she did not