s. Field went
outdoors and stood by the front gate, looking down the road. She saw
a girl coming in the distance with a flutter of light skirts, and she
exclaimed with gladness, "There she is!" The girl drew nearer, and
she saw it was Ida Starr in a dress that looked like Lois'.

The girl stopped when she saw Mrs. Field at the gate. "Good-morning,"
said she.

"Good-mornin', Ida."

"It's a beautiful day."

Mrs. Field did not reply; she gazed past her down the road, her face
all one pale frown.

The girl looked curiously at her. "I hope Lois is pretty well this
morning?" she said, in her amiable voice.

Mrs. Field responded with a harsh outburst that fairly made her start
back.

"No," she cried out, "she ain't well; she's sick. She wa'n't fit to
go to school. She couldn't hardly crawl out of the yard. She ain't
got home, an' I'm terrible worried. I dun'no' but she's fell down."

"Maybe she just thought she wouldn't come home."

"No; that ain't it. She never did such a thing as that without saying
something about it; she'd know I'd worry."

Mrs. Field craned her neck farther over the gate, and peered down the
road. Beside the gate stood two tall bushes, all white with flowers
that grew in long white racemes, and they framed her distressed face.

"Look here, Mrs. Field," said the girl, "I'll tell you what I'll do.
The school-house isn't much beyond my house; I'll just run over there
and see if there's anything the matter; then I'll come back right
off, and let you know."

"Oh, will you?"

"Of course I will. Now don't you worry, Mrs. Field; I don't believe
it's anything."

The girl nodded back at her with her pretty smile; then she sped away
with a light tilting motion. Mrs. Field stood a few minutes longer,
then she went up the steps into the house. She opened Amanda Pratt's
door instead of her own, and went through the sitting-room to the
kitchen, from whence she could hear the clink of dishes.

"Lois ain't got home yet," said she, standing in the doorway.

Amanda set down the dish she was wiping. "Mis' Field, what do you
mean?"

"What I say."

"Ain't she got home yet?"

"No, she ain't."

"Why, it's half-past one o'clock! She ain't comin'; it's time for
school to begin. Look here, Mis' Field, I guess she felt kind of
tired, an' thought she wouldn't come."

Mrs. Field shook her head with a sort of remorselessness toward all
comfort. "She's fell down."

"Oh, Mis' Field! you don't s'pose so?"