“It’s Billy Robinson who ought to be ashamed when he meets you or any of us,” commented Cecily severely. “I’d rather be cheated than cheat other people.”
“Do you mind the time we bought God’s picture?” asked Peter.
“I wonder if it’s where we buried it yet,” speculated Felix.
“I put a stone over it, just as we did over Pat,” said Cecily.
“I wish I could forget what God looks like,” sighed Sara Ray. “I can’t forget it—and I can’t forget what the bad place is like either, ever since Peter preached that sermon on it.”
“When you get to be a real minister you’ll have to preach that sermon over again, Peter,” grinned Dan.
“My Aunt Jane used to say that people needed a sermon on that place once in a while,” retorted Peter seriously.
“Do you mind the night I et the cucumbers and milk to make me dream?” said Cecily.
And therewith we hunted out our old dream books to read them again, and, forgetful of coming partings, laughed over them till the old orchard echoed to our mirth. When we had finished we stood in a circle around the well and pledged “eternal friendship” in a cup of its unrivalled water.
Then we joined hands and sang “Auld Lang Syne.” Sara Ray cried bitterly in lieu of singing.