“I didn’t suppose you’d deny it, after the way you’ve combed me down for lying,” she said. “What’s the good of saying you didn’t? Everybody knows you did. Elder Clow and his wife saw you. Some people say it will break up the church, but I don’t go that far. You are nice ones.”
Nan Blythe stood up and put her arms around the dazed Faith and Una.
“They were nice enough to take you in and feed you and clothe you when you were starving in Mr. Taylor’s barn, Mary Vance,” she said. “You are very grateful, I must say.”
“I am grateful,” retorted Mary. “You’d know it if you’d heard me standing up for Mr. Meredith through thick and thin. I’ve blistered my tongue talking for him this week. I’ve said again and again that he isn’t to blame if his young ones did clean house on Sunday. He was away—and they knew better.”
“But we didn’t,” protested Una. “It was Monday we cleaned house. Wasn’t it, Faith?”
“Of course it was,” said Faith, with flashing eyes. “We went to Sunday School in spite of the rain—and no one came—not even Elder Abraham, for all his talk about fair-weather Christians.”
“It was Saturday it rained,” said Mary. “Sunday was as fine as silk. I wasn’t at Sunday School because I had toothache, but every one else was and they saw all your stuff out on the lawn. And Elder Abraham and Mrs. Elder Abraham saw you shaking rugs in the graveyard.”
Una sat down among the daisies and began to cry.
“Look here,” said Jem resolutely, “this thing must be cleared up. Somebody has made a mistake. Sunday was fine, Faith. How could you have thought Saturday was Sunday?”
“Prayer-meeting was Thursday night,” cried Faith, “and Adam flew into the soup-pot on Friday when Aunt Martha’s cat chased him, and spoiled our dinner; and Saturday there was a snake in the cellar and Carl caught it with a forked stick and carried it out, and Sunday it rained. So there!”