ope began in bewildered
tones.

"He did, dear," Gail answered. "I supposed he still held it; we paid the
last interest money to him."

"Then how--"

"Two years ago Mr. Hartman signed a note for old Mr. Lowe on the Liberty
Road. The Lowes have always been considered wealthy people, and the two
families have been close friends for years, so he thought there would be
no trouble about the note; but when it fell due in July Mr. Lowe
couldn't pay, and Mr. Hartman had to. He owns quite a little property,
I guess, but all his ready money had gone into fixing up his buildings
and putting up a new barn. Mr. Skinner wouldn't give an extension of
time on the note, and said he would take nothing but cash payment or the
mortgage on our farm. He has always wanted this place, it seems, and had
expected to get it when papa bought it--you know the first owner was a
great friend of our family--and there was some bad feeling over it. He
never liked us, and Peace's prank with his bull settled everything. He
was fairly insulting--"

"Did you go to see him?" chorused the sisters.

"Surely. I thought there might be a _chance_ of his extending the time
on the mortgage, but--he wouldn't listen to me."

"Then we must lose the farm?"

"We have a month more before the mortgage is due, but I don't know where
the money to pay is coming from. I am afraid--the farm--must go." She
gasped out the words in such misery and despair that Peace found herself
crying with the older sister across the hall.

"What will become of us?" choked Hope after a long pause.

"I--I don't know," murmured Gail, "unless you go to live with the
neighbors until I can find something to do so I can get you all together
again. It seems the village people have already talked this over among
themselves."

"Did Peace tell you after all?" demanded Faith.

"No, I didn't! I never said a word!" cried Peace in great indignation,
and the startled sisters beheld a frowzy head thrust from behind the
closet drapery, and a pair of angry eyes glaring at them. "I won't go to
live with the Judge nor Mr. Hardman, either. Len and Cecile tease me
dreadfully, Hector I _predominate_ with all my heart and I can't abide
Mr. Hardman. He isn't square. He shouldn't have given old Skinflint the
_mordige_. It b'longs to us. Oh, dear, I'll never pick raspberries
again! That bull has made more fuss than any other person I know."

Gail caught the shivering, sobbing child in her arms, wrapped a sh