"I know it, and I wanted you to tell Mrs. York that you'd come."
"But, childie, I can't leave you here all alone. You and Marie—"
"Fight. Yes, I know. But you might take me along. Couldn't you?"
Mrs. Campbell was startled. This was the first time since the accident that Peace had showed any desire to go beyond the boundaries of the garden; and the woman glanced suspiciously at the eager face, thinking that the suggestion meant a sacrifice of the child's own wishes. But the eyes were shining with their old-time enthusiasm, and Mrs. Campbell said hesitatingly, "It's a Missionary Conference, dear."
"I always did like missionary meetings," Peace reminded her.
"But this will be different,—mostly statistics, reports and discussions. I am afraid you would find it very dull."
"Women can be awfully dull sometimes," Peace admitted cheerfully. "But you want to go, I haven't anything to do, and I might just as well be watching the crowds there as taking a nap here at home. Then both of us would be amused, while here, you would be thinking of what you'd missed, and I'd be just itching for something to do."
"But supposing the proceedings don't amuse you?" smiled the woman.
"Then I'll go to sleep like Deacon Skinner always did in Parker. Or I might take along something to read, s'posing things get too awfully dry."
"Would you really like to go?" Mrs. Campbell was still a little doubtful, though from her manner of glancing at the clock, and then down the street, it was evident that she herself very much desired to attend that afternoon's session of the Conference.