when you
lugged in a jug of buttermilk, Mrs. Waddler, you know you did, when you
had promised her fresh milk. I heard you promise. Do you s'pose she
could use buttermilk in her coffee or make custard pie out of it? She
had told Mr. Strong that she was going to make one for his supper, and
he was 'most as disappointed as I was when she couldn't do it.

"Deacon Skinflint sent her some fresh eggs, too, that were so old you
could smell 'em before the shells were broken. I told her 'twas a mercy
he hadn't sent her chiny nest eggs, and she _laughed_! If it had been
you, Mrs. Waddler, you'd have jawed good!"

Peace paused for breath. Mr. Strong and his adorable little wife were
her idols, and she could not bear to hear them slandered in any way, but
she had forgotten herself, her manners, everything, in the defense of
her friends; and now, realizing how rude she had been to one of these
women confronting her, she dropped her head in shamed silence, and
nervously twisted the skirt of her coat about her trembling hands,
waiting for the lecture she felt that she deserved.

To her surprise, none came; but after an awkward pause, during which
both women were doing some hard thinking, Mrs. Wardlaw said humbly,
"Wouldn't you like to go to Martindale with us some day next week and
help us select material for Mrs. Strong's new suit? Maybe you would know
what she likes better than we do, Peace."

Peace's eyes shone with delight, but she answered mournfully, "I can't,
I am afraid, 'cause there's school every day but Saturday, and that's
our Sunshine Club afternoon. I know what she likes best, though. I asked
her once what kind of cloth made the prettiest suit, and she said she
thought longcloth did--navy blue longcloth."

"She means broadcloth," murmured Mrs. Bainbridge under her breath.

"Of course," smiled Mrs. Wardlaw amiably. "So you think navy blue is
what she would prefer?"

"Yes, she likes blue, and it just matches her eyes. Hasn't she got the
bluest eyes and the goldest hair? Just like Hope's and Allee's. A silk
waist would be nice, too. She never had but one in her life."

At this juncture a head was thrust through the hall door and an
imperative voice called, "Mrs. Bainbridge, the children have come back
just loaded down with greens. Come show us where you want them and we'll
hang them before supper time."

CHAPTER VIII

A MYSTERIOUS SANTA CLAUS

"Merry Christmas, Gail, Faith, Hope, Charity, Allee! Merry C