“And the church was just full of Methodists yesterday, too,” groaned Miss Cornelia, who had come up to the Glen to do some shopping and run into Ingleside to talk the affair over. “I don’t know how it is, but just as sure as those manse children do something especially awful the church is sure to be crowded with Methodists. I thought Mrs. Deacon Hazard’s eyes would drop out of her head. When she came out of church she said, ‘Well, that exhibition was no more than decent. I do pity the Presbyterians.’ And we just had to take it. There was nothing one could say.”

“There was something I could have said, Mrs. Dr. dear, if I had heard her,” said Susan grimly. “I would have said, for one thing, that in my opinion clean bare legs were quite as decent as holes. And I would have said, for another, that the Presbyterians did not feel greatly in need of pity seeing that they had a minister who could preach and the Methodists had not. I could have squelched Mrs. Deacon Hazard, Mrs. Dr dear, and that you may tie to.”

“I wish Mr. Meredith didn’t preach quite so well and looked after his family a little better,” retorted Miss Cornelia. “He could at least glance over his children before they went to church and see that they were quite properly clothed. I’m tired making excuses for him, believe me.”

Meanwhile, Faith’s soul was being harrowed up in Rainbow Valley. Mary Vance was there and, as usual, in a lecturing mood. She gave Faith to understand that she had disgraced herself and her father beyond redemption and that she, Mary Vance, was done with her. “Everybody” was talking, and “everybody” said the same thing.

“I simply feel that I can’t associate with you any longer,” she concluded.

We are going to associate with her then,” cried Nan Blythe. Nan secretly thought Faith had done a awful thing, but she wasn’t going to let Mary Vance run matters in this high-handed fashion. “And if you are not you needn’t come any more to Rainbow Valley, Miss Vance.”

Nan and Di both put their arms around Faith and glared defiance at Mary. The latter suddenly crumpled up, sat down on a stump and began to cry.

“It ain’t that I don’t want to,” she wailed. “But if I keep in with Faith people’ll be saying I put her up to doing things. Some are saying it now, true’s you live. I can’t afford to have such things said of me, now that I’m in a respectable place and trying to be a lady. And I never went bare-legged in church in my toughest days. I’d never have thought of doing such a thing. But that hateful old Kitty Alec says Faith has never been the same girl since that time I stayed in the manse. She says Cornelia Elliott will live to rue the day she took me in. It hurts my feelings, I tell you. But it’s Mr. Meredith I’m really worried over.”

“I think you needn’t worry about him,” said Di scornfully. “It isn’t likely necessary. Now, Faith darling, stop crying and tell us why you did it.”

Faith explained tearfully. The Blythe girls sympathized with her, and even Mary Vance agreed that it was a hard position to be in. But Jerry, on whom the thing came like a thunderbolt, refused to be placated. So this was what some mysterious hints he had got in school that day meant! He marched Faith and Una home without ceremony, and the Good-Conduct Club held an immediate session in the graveyard to sit in judgment on Faith’s case.