stripe of red hid the uneven letters from sight. But somehow
Mr. Hartman did not think the barn had been improved very much when he
found it, and was wrathfully; setting out in search of the artist when
the fluttering paper caught his eye.

"She's a great one for notes," he muttered, jerking the scrawl down,
half impatiently, half amused. "What does she say this time? Whew!"
Involuntarily he whistled a long-drawn-out whistle, for this is what
Peace had written:

"I ipolijize for painting your barn cause Gale says I otto and
anyway I didn't know it was going to look so bad so Ive erased the
letters with some more paint but I still feel the same way about
the raspberries. Also I hope you don't get your reward in Heaven.

Peace Greenfield.

"P.s. Gale said I should come myself and say this but I thot it was
safest to rite as long as youre still mad."

CHAPTER XIV

PEACE, THE GOOD SAMARITAN

Down the sloping hillside browned with the summer sun strolled Peace one
afternoon late in August, gathering the purple foxgloves which waved
invitingly in the breeze. It was one of those rare days of waning
summer, clear, beautiful and cool, with just a hint of autumn haze in
the air; and it cast its magic spell over the bare-headed, flower-laden
maid, wandering dreamily through the crisp, crackling grass, with no
particular destination in view, no particular thought in mind. She had
set out an hour before with Cherry and Allee as her companions, but had
wandered away from them without being aware of it, and was now some
distance from home, still busy pulling the gorgeous stems of bloom,
still unconscious of her loneness, still lost in her own realms of
fancy.

This Peace was one few people knew. Allee was most familiar with the
brown-eyed dream-child, the little family at the parsonage were quite
well acquainted with her, and occasionally Gail caught a fleeting
glimpse of that hidden spirit, but to the rest of the little world in
which she lived she was a bright-eyed, gay-hearted little romp, whose
efforts to lend assistance to others were always leading her into
mischief, oftentimes with unhappy results.

So it is no wonder that busy Dr. Bainbridge was surprised when he
discovered her in this strange mood as he came puffing and panting up
the hill toward town, for she was so completely lost amid her dreams
that she did not see him nor hear his brusque greeting until he stepped
d