“You ask him,” said Felicity, nudging the Story Girl.
“Uncle Roger,” said the Story Girl, the golden notes of her voice threaded with fear and appeal, “the Enterprise says that to-morrow is the Judgment Day? IS it? Do YOU think it is?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Uncle Roger gravely. “The Enterprise is always very careful to print only reliable news.”
“But mother doesn’t believe it,” cried Felicity.
Uncle Roger shook his head.
“That is just the trouble,” he said. “People won’t believe it till it’s too late. I’m going straight to Markdale to pay a man there some money I owe him, and after dinner I’m going to Summerside to buy me a new suit. My old one is too shabby for the Judgment Day.”
He got into his buggy and drove away, leaving eight distracted mortals behind him.
“Well, I suppose that settles it,” said Peter, in despairing tone.
“Is there anything we can do to PREPARE?” asked Cecily.
“I wish I had a white dress like you girls,” sobbed Sara Ray. “But I haven’t, and it’s too late to get one. Oh, I wish I had minded what ma said better. I wouldn’t have disobeyed her so often if I’d thought the Judgment Day was so near. When I go home I’m going to tell her about going to the magic lantern show.”