weeks, and her face clouded
again as she heard Elizabeth's plan. "But--I can't--I don't want--I
would rather--" she stammered.

"Remember your motto and 'scatter sunshine,' dear. It will help the home
folks to know you are cheerful and happy here, and it will help us,
too."

She had touched the right chord. Peace slowly dried her tears, gave a
final gulp or two, and lifted her face once more smiling and serene,
saying gravely, "You can bet on me! I won't bawl any more. You folks
better get to bed now and not stand here shivering until you catch cold.
Good-night again!" With a hearty kiss for each, she trailed away to her
tiny room and was soon fast asleep among the pillows.

In spite of her determination to be brave, however, she often found it
hard to wear a smiling face during the week which followed the
messenger's coming, for much as she wanted a vacation from her books,
time hung heavily on her hands. She could not help fretting about Allee
lying ill at home, Glen took a sleepy spell and spent many hours each
day napping when she wanted to play with him, the little house had soon
been put in order, everything was unpacked and in its place, the
minister and Elizabeth were compelled to devote much of their time to
making the acquaintance of their new parishioners and becoming familiar
with this new field of labor; so Peace was necessarily left to her own
devices more than was good for her.

To make a bad situation worse, a drizzly spring rain set in, which
lasted for days and kept the freedom-loving child a prisoner indoors,
when she longed to be dancing in the fresh air and exploring a certain
inviting grove which she had discovered on the hillside behind the
church.

"I b'lieve it's raining just to spite me," she exclaimed crossly one
afternoon as she stood drumming on the window-sill and watching the
pearly drops course down the pane in zigzag rivulets. "It just knows how
bad I want to get out to play."

Elizabeth looked up from a tiny dress which she was mending carefully,
and said in sprightly tones,

"'Is it raining, little flower?
Be glad of rain.
Too much sun would wither thee,
'Twill shine again.
The sky is very black, 'tis true,
But just behind it shines the blue.'"

"Oh, yes, you can say that all right," Peace snapped, "cause you ain't
just a-dying to get out and dig. Why, Saint Elspeth, the air just fairly
smells of angleworms and birds' nests, and I do want to ma