"Oh, you can have another week of vacation from lessons, and then if everything is all right, you can finish your term at Chestnut School. That is only four blocks from here, and Miss Curtis is a splendid principal. I knew her when I went to college, and I am sure you will like her."
This was not exactly what Peace had expected or hoped for. She would have preferred no more school at all, as long as the sisters at home were to have an enforced vacation of several weeks, and her face clouded again as she heard Elizabeth's plan. "But—I can't—I don't want—I would rather—" she stammered.
"Remember your motto and 'scatter sunshine,' dear. It will help the home folks to know you are cheerful and happy here, and it will help us, too."
She had touched the right chord. Peace slowly dried her tears, gave a final gulp or two, and lifted her face once more smiling and serene, saying gravely, "You can bet on me! I won't bawl any more. You folks better get to bed now and not stand here shivering until you catch cold. Good-night again!" With a hearty kiss for each, she trailed away to her tiny room and was soon fast asleep among the pillows.
In spite of her determination to be brave, however, she often found it hard to wear a smiling face during the week which followed the messenger's coming, for much as she wanted a vacation from her books, time hung heavily on her hands. She could not help fretting about Allee lying ill at home, Glen took a sleepy spell and spent many hours each day napping when she wanted to play with him, the little house had soon been put in order, everything was unpacked and in its place, the minister and Elizabeth were compelled to devote much of their time to making the acquaintance of their new parishioners and becoming familiar with this new field of labor; so Peace was necessarily left to her own devices more than was good for her.
To make a bad situation worse, a drizzly spring rain set in, which lasted for days and kept the freedom-loving child a prisoner indoors, when she longed to be dancing in the fresh air and exploring a certain inviting grove which she had discovered on the hillside behind the church.
"I b'lieve it's raining just to spite me," she exclaimed crossly one afternoon as she stood drumming on the window-sill and watching the pearly drops course down the pane in zigzag rivulets. "It just knows how bad I want to get out to play."
Elizabeth looked up from a tiny dress which she was mending carefully, and said in sprightly tones,
"'Is it raining, little flower?
Be glad of rain.
Too much sun would wither thee,
'Twill shine again.
The sky is very black, 'tis true,
But just behind it shines the blue.'"
"Oh, yes, you can say that all right," Peace snapped, "cause you ain't just a-dying to get out and dig. Why, Saint Elspeth, the air just fairly smells of angleworms and birds' nests, and I do want to make a garden so bad!"