At the gate Ann climbed over the wheel and then turned to exclaim savagely, “I know what you’re thinking, Lottie Fowler, even if you don’t dare say it.  You’re thinking you’re glad that you are not in my shoes!  But I’ve had my own way, anyhow!” Then with her head high she marched up the path to the house.

But in spite of her brave speech, when she reached the door-step, she stopped to wipe her eyes again on her apron.  The carryall drove away, and still she stood there saying to herself with a little sob, “Oh, I wonder if the Prodigal Son was half as much ashamed to go home as I am!”

THE END.