Rainbow Valley
eman. She pointed out to him, none too respectfully, his dereliction of duty in allowing a waif like Mary V
and the Blythes, and from what I can make out there's nothing much to be said against the child except that she's slangy and doesn't use very refined language. But think what migh
honestly shocked over his ow
he asked helplessly. "We can't turn th
anwhile, I suppose she might as well stay here for a few more days ti
m. Mary obeyed, looking literally ghastly with fright. But she got the surprise of her poor, battered little life. This man, of whom she had stood so terribly in awe, was the kindest, gentlest soul she had ever met. Before she knew what happened
for Mrs. Wiley dying, but that I must try to think of her good points and not of her bad ones. I dunno what good points she had, unless it was keeping her house clean an
she thought of going back to the asylum the more she hated it. Una racked her small brains for some
and Mr. Elliott is always wanting her to have help. It would be j
think Mrs. Elliot
body was agony to her. And she was very much in awe of the bustling, energetic Mrs. Elliott. She liked her very much and always enjoye
ext evening she slipped away from the manse to the harbour road. Far down in Rainbow Valley she heard joyous laughter but her way lay not there. She was terribly pale and terribly in ea
shall Elliott had planted trees about it and set out a rose garden and a spruce hedge. It was quite a different place from what it had been in years agone. The mans
schooner was coming up the channel. The world of Four Winds was steeped in glowing colour, and subtle music, and strange glamour, and
She sat on the little stool Miss Cornelia brought out and tried to eat the doughnut Miss Cornelia gave her. It stuck in her throat, but she swallowed desperately lest M
" she asked. "There's somethi
t twist of doughnut w
you take Mary Vance?"
elia star
Vance! Do you
do. She doesn't want to go back to the asylum-she cries every night about it. She's so afraid of being sent to anot
a thing," said Miss Cor
hink of it?"
to do all the work here. And I never thought I
ed. She sat down on her stool again, a pathetic l
d never bear to hurt a child. "I don't say I WON'T take her-but the
smart," sa
. I've heard she swea
CTLY," faltered Una uncomfortab
Does she always
except when she's a
u want me t
obbed Una. "SOME ONE has to l
ith a sigh. "Well, I'll have to talk it over with Mr. Elliott. So d
ate it with a
usan at Ingleside does, and sometimes she lets us have a plateful in Rainbow Valley.
earie.
nd SO nice. I always do that when I'm hungry-especially after we've had ditto for dinner. THEN
rried," Miss Cornelia told her husband indignantly after Una had gone. "And h
," said Marsha
y. "'Take her'-as if that was all. There are
ider them afterwards, Co
er and went up to announce her deci
o that very thing, Miss Cornelia. I want that poor child to get
cat of another colour. But she's also a human being with an immortal soul to save. I've got a shorter catechism
news with chaste
ck than I expec
our p's and q's with M
. "I know how to behave when I want
words, you know, Mary
shining with unholy glee over the idea. "But you needn't worry, Una. B
lies," a
off from a whippi
NEVER whip you-NE
e I ain't licked I'll think it's heaven all right. No fear of me telling l
r a keepsake. Carl gave her his Noah's ark and Jerry his second best jew's-harp. Faith gave her a little hairbrush with a mirror in the back of it, which Mary had always considered very wonderful. Una he
'm partial to lions. Only I wish they'd et D
coaxed Una to
that graveyard. I don't mind it on fine nights, but a night like this I can't see anything but the rain pouring down on them old
y were cuddled down together in the littl
id Mary. "If I was alone here I'd cry my eyes out I'd b
Rainbow Valley quite often I'm sure," said Una.
me to be good-inside, I mean, as well as outside-as it is
ies as well as bad ones," argued Una. "You must
ver heard of any. My grandfather had money, but they say he was a rascal
you, you know, Ma
know ab
asked God to get a ho
th it," retorted Mary. "It was yo
you. All my putting it into her HEAD wo
to give Him a chance. But, honest, I think He's an awful lot like your father-just absent-minded and never taking any n
. "God isn't a bit like father-I mean H
," said Mary. "When your father was talking to
Him," sighed Una. "He can explain
ious about praying. I guess the old rhyme is the safest. Say, Una, it seems to me if one has to pray to anybody it'd be better to pray to the devil than to God. God's good, anyhow so you say, so He won't d
to the devil. And it wouldn't do any good because he's
t settle it, there ain't no use in talking more about it until we've a cha
could tell us everythin
. Anyhow, DO try and keep the house a little tidy. The way people talks about it is scandalous. And the
in had never presented itself to her before. She did
o tell you all I know about 'em. The Wilson kids across the road from Wiley's had a stepmothe
Una tremulously. "Father
being up to them. And the worst of stepmothers is, they always set your father against you. He'd never care anything
this, Mary," cried Una. "It
course, your father's so absent-minded he mightn't happen to t
s. On, how dreadful it would be if her father should marry somebody who would ma
And the Rev. John Meredith forgot to go to bed at all because he was absorbed in reading a life of St. Augustine. It was gray dawn when he finished it and went upstairs, wrestling with the problems of two thousand years ago. The door of the girls' room was open and he saw Faith lying asleep, rosy and
ed to her songs! And she had gone away so suddenly, taking her laughter and music and leaving silence-so sudden
ery long Faith would be old enough to take her mother's place. Until then, he must do the best he could alone. He sighed and went to his room, where the bed was still unmade. Aunt Martha had forgotten it, and