“Sara Ray, I don’t know what it feels like to be going to die because I didn’t know I was going to die till I got better. Mother says I was luny most of the time after they struck in. It was just because they struck in I was luny. I ain’t luny naturally, Felicity. I will do what you asked in your postscript, Sara, although it will be hard.
“I’m glad Peg Bowen didn’t catch you, Dan. Maybe she bewitched me that night we were at her place, and that is why the measles struck in. I’m awful glad Mr. King is going to leave the potato stalks until I get well, and I’m obliged to the Story Girl for coaxing him. I guess she will find out about Alice yet. There were some parts of her letter I couldn’t see through, but when the measles strike in, they leave you stupid for a spell. Anyhow, it was a fine letter, and they were all fine, and I’m awful glad I have so many nice friends, even if I am only a hired boy. Perhaps I’d never have found it out if the measles hadn’t struck in. So I’m glad they did but I hope they never will again.
“Your obedient servant,
“PETER CRAIG.”
CHAPTER XXXI. ON THE EDGE OF LIGHT AND DARK
We celebrated the November day when Peter was permitted to rejoin us by a picnic in the orchard. Sara Ray was also allowed to come, under protest; and her joy over being among us once more was almost pathetic. She and Cecily cried in one another’s arms as if they had been parted for years.
We had a beautiful day for our picnic. November dreamed that it was May. The air was soft and mellow, with pale, aerial mists in the valleys and over the leafless beeches on the western hill. The sere stubble fields brooded in glamour, and the sky was pearly blue. The leaves were still thick on the apple trees, though they were russet hued, and the after-growth of grass was richly green, unharmed as yet by the nipping frosts of previous nights. The wind made a sweet, drowsy murmur in the boughs, as of bees among apple blossoms.
“It’s just like spring, isn’t it?” asked Felicity.
The Story Girl shook her head.