Uncle Roger nodded his head, as if resigning himself and Pat to the worst.

“Do you really think Peg Bowen is a witch, Uncle Roger?” demanded the Story Girl incredulously.

“Do I think Peg Bowen is a witch?  My dear Sara, what do YOU think of a woman who can turn herself into a black cat whenever she likes?  Is she a witch?  Or is she not?  I leave it to you.”

“Can Peg Bowen turn herself into a black cat?” asked Felix, staring.

“It’s my belief that that is the least of Peg Bowen’s accomplishments,” answered Uncle Roger.  “It’s the easiest thing in the world for a witch to turn herself into any animal you choose to mention.  Yes, Pat is bewitched—­no doubt of that—­not the least in the world.”

“What are you telling those children such stuff for?” asked Aunt Olivia, passing on her way to the well.

“It’s an irresistible temptation,” answered Uncle Roger, strolling over to carry her pail.

“You can see your Uncle Roger believes Peg is a witch,” said Peter.

“And you can see Aunt Olivia doesn’t,” I said, “and I don’t either.”

“See here,” said the Story Girl resolutely, “I don’t believe it, but there MAY be something in it.  Suppose there is.  The question is, what can we do?”

“I’ll tell you what I’D do,” said Peter.  “I’d take a present for Peg, and ask her to make Pat well.  I wouldn’t let on I thought she’d made him sick.  Then she couldn’t be offended—­and maybe she’d take the spell off.”

“I think we’d better all give her something,” said Felicity.  “I’m willing to do that.  But who’s going to take the presents to her?”

“We must all go together,” said the Story Girl.

“I won’t,” cried Sara Ray in terror.  “I wouldn’t go near Peg Bowen’s house for the world, no matter who was with me.”

“I’ve thought of a plan,” said the Story Girl.  “Let’s all give her something, as Felicity says.  And let us all go up to her place this evening, and if we see her outside we’ll just go quietly and set the things down before her with the letter, and say nothing but come respectfully away.”

“If she’ll let us,” said Dan significantly.

“Can Peg read a letter?” I asked.

“Oh, yes.  Aunt Olivia says she is a good scholar.  She went to school and was a smart girl until she became crazy.  We’ll write it very plain.”

“What if we don’t see her?” asked Felicity.

“We’ll put the things on her doorstep then and leave them.”

“She may be miles away over the country by this time,” sighed Cecily, “and never find them until it’s too late for Pat.  But it’s the only thing to do.  What can we give her?”

“We mustn’t offer her any money,” said the Story Girl.  “She’s very indignant when any one does that.  She says she isn’t a beggar.  But she’ll take anything else.  I shall give her my string of blue beads.  She’s fond of finery.”