the cloud the sunshine
of that gay spirit burst forth again.

She was tired of being idle, and with characteristic energy that very
morning had surprised and delighted the whole household by demanding
something to do,--some real work with which to fill the long hours. And
Miss Smiley had promptly suggested Indian baskets, spending many
precious minutes of a busy forenoon teaching the weak fingers how to
weave. Peace was a-tingle with pride over her accomplishment, especially
when she was told of its possibilities and scope; and straightway began
planning to send her first finished product to the State Fair which was
to open its gates soon.

So as she wrestled with the damp raffia sad willow sticks after Miss
Edith had left her, she so far forgot her trouble that the old, familiar
laugh bubbled up to her lips, and once she paused in her work to answer
a trilling bird in the branches overhead. She was all alone on the wide,
shady lawn, and so engrossed in her own thoughts that she never heard
the chug-chug of a motor-car gliding up the river road, nor saw the
black-frocked figure leap nimbly from the machine and scurry up the walk
to the kitchen door, as if in too big a hurry to enter the house in the
proper manner. But she did hear the boisterous shouts of Cherry and
Allee a few moments later, as they burst through the screen door and
raced through the short, sweet clover toward her, each clamoring to tell
her the news which stuck out all over them.

"I reached her first!" Allee repeated, waving the older sister off.

"Pig!" returned Cherry. "You always--"

"Tut, tut," interrupted a voice from behind, in tones of mock severity.
"Are you girls _quarreling_? I'm ashamed of you. Peace, what is it all
about?"

Mr. Strong, light of step and radiant of face, appeared on the scene by
another path; and Peace, flinging down the raffia basket which her busy
fingers were weaving, stretched out eager arms in welcome. "It's
something they both wanted to tell me, St. John, but they stopped to
scrap about it, and I hain't heard what it is yet."

"Bet you meant to steal my thunder, didn't you?" He turned merry,
accusing eyes upon the pair of culprits, and they flushed guiltily. "But
you just aren't going to do it this time. _I_ shall tell her myself. It
is my news, you know."

Both heads bobbed solemnly, and Peace, excited and not understanding,
cried imperiously, "Tell me quick. I'm half dead with curiosity. Has old
Tortoise-