“This is just the sort of day you feel as if
things might happen,” said Faith, responsive
to the lure of crystal air and blue hills. She
hugged herself with delight and danced a hornpipe
on old Hezekiah Pollock’s bench tombstone, much
to the horror of two ancient maidens who happened
to be driving past just as Faith hopped on one foot
around the stone, waving the other and her arms in
the air.
“And that,” groaned one ancient maiden,
“is our minister’s daughter.”
“What else could you expect of a widower’s
family?” groaned the other ancient maiden.
And then they both shook their heads.
It was early on Saturday morning and the Merediths
were out in the dew-drenched world with a delightful
consciousness of the holiday. They had never
had anything to do on a holiday. Even Nan and
Di Blythe had certain household tasks for Saturday
mornings, but the daughters of the manse were free
to roam from blushing morn to dewy eve if so it pleased
them. It did please Faith, but Una felt
a secret, bitter humiliation because they never learned
to do anything. The other girls in her class
at school could cook and sew and knit; she only was
a little ignoramus.
Jerry suggested that they go exploring; so they went
lingeringly through the fir grove, picking up Carl
on the way, who was on his knees in the dripping grass
studying his darling ants. Beyond the grove
they came out in Mr. Taylor’s pasture field,
sprinkled over with the white ghosts of dandelions;
in a remote corner was an old tumbledown barn, where
Mr. Taylor sometimes stored his surplus hay crop but
which was never used for any other purpose. Thither
the Meredith children trooped, and prowled about the
ground floor for several minutes.
“What was that?” whispered Una suddenly.
They all listened. There was a faint but distinct
rustle in the hayloft above. The Merediths looked
at each other.
“There’s something up there,” breathed
Faith.
“I’m going up to see what it is,”
said Jerry resolutely.
“Oh, don’t,” begged Una, catching
his arm.
“I’m going.”
“We’ll all go, too, then,” said
Faith.
The whole four climbed the shaky ladder, Jerry and
Faith quite dauntless, Una pale from fright, and Carl
rather absent-mindedly speculating on the possibility
of finding a bat up in the loft. He longed to
see a bat in daylight.
When they stepped off the ladder they saw what had
made the rustle and the sight struck them dumb for
a few moments.
