's, and by'n'by there'll
be the town fair. Paul, there's a ripe berry! And another and--"

"See here, hold on, Impatience!" Pauline protested, as the berries
disappeared, one after another, down Patience's small throat.
"Perhaps, if you stop eating them all, we can get enough for mother's
and father's supper."

"Maybe they went and hurried to get ripe for to-night, so we could
celebrate," Patience suggested. "Paul, mayn't I go with you next time
you go over to The Maples?"

"We'll see what mother says."

"I hate 'we'll see's'!" Patience declared, reaching so far over after a
particularly tempting berry, that she lost her balance, and fell face
down among them.

"Oh, dear!" she sighed, as her sister came to her assistance,
"something always seems to happen clean-apron afternoon! Paul,
wouldn't it be a 'good time,' if Miranda would agree not to scold 'bout
perfectly unavoidable accidents once this whole summer?"

"Who's to do the deciding as to the unavoidableness?" Pauline asked.
"Come on, Patience, we've got about all the ripe ones, and it must be
time for you to lay the supper-table."

"Not laying supper-tables would be another good time," Patience
answered. "We did get enough, didn't we? I'll hull them."

"I wonder," Pauline said, more as if speaking to herself, "whether
maybe mother wouldn't think it good to have Jane in now and then--for
extra work? Not supper-tables, young lady."

"Jane would love it. She likes to work with Miranda--she says
Miranda's such a nice lady. Do you think she is, Paul?"

"I'm thinking about other things just now."

"I don't--There's mother. Goodness, Miranda's got the cloth on!"
And away sped the child.

To Patience's astonishment, nothing was said at supper, either of Uncle
Paul's letter, or the wonderful things it was to lead to. Mr. Shaw
kept his wife engaged with parish subjects and Pauline appeared lost in
thoughts of her own. Patience fidgeted as openly as she dared. Of all
queer grown-ups--and it looked as though most grown-ups were more or
less queer--father was certainly the queerest. Of course, he knew
about the letter; and how could he go on talking about stupid,
uninteresting matters--like the Ladies' Aid and the new hymn books?

Even the first strawberries of the season passed unnoticed, as far as
he was concerned, though Mrs. Shaw gave Patience a little smiling nod,
in recognition of them.

"Mother," Pauline exclaimed, the moment her father