“Shucks, you can pray all you want to, only not in the graveyard—­and don’t make a game of it.  That was what made it so bad—­that, and having a tea-party on the tombstones.”

“We hadn’t.”

“Well, a soap-bubble party then.  You had something.  The over-harbour people swear you had a tea-party, but I’m willing to take your word.  And you used this tombstone as a table.”

“Well, Martha wouldn’t let us blow bubbles in the house.  She was awful cross that day,” explained Jerry.  “And this old slab made such a jolly table.”

“Weren’t they pretty?” cried Faith, her eyes sparkling over the remembrance.  “They reflected the trees and the hills and the harbour like little fairy worlds, and when we shook them loose they floated away down to Rainbow Valley.”

“All but one and it went over and bust up on the Methodist spire,” said Carl.

“I’m glad we did it once, anyhow, before we found out it was wrong,” said Faith.

“It wouldn’t have been wrong to blow them on the lawn,” said Mary impatiently.  “Seems like I can’t knock any sense into your heads.  You’ve been told often enough you shouldn’t play in the graveyard.  The Methodists are sensitive about it.”

“We forget,” said Faith dolefully.  “And the lawn is so small—­and so caterpillary—­and so full of shrubs and things.  We can’t be in Rainbow Valley all the time—­and where are we to go?”

“It’s the things you do in the graveyard.  It wouldn’t matter if you just sat here and talked quiet, same as we’re doing now.  Well, I don’t know what is going to come of it all, but I do know that Elder Warren is going to speak to your pa about it.  Deacon Hazard is his cousin.”

“I wish they wouldn’t bother father about us,” said Una.

“Well, people think he ought to bother himself about you a little more. I don’t—­I understand him.  He’s a child in some ways himself—­that’s what he is, and needs some one to look after him as bad as you do.  Well, perhaps he’ll have some one before long, if all tales is true.”

“What do you mean?” asked Faith.

“Haven’t you got any idea—­honest?” demanded Mary.

“No, no.  What do you mean?”

“Well, you are a lot of innocents, upon my word.  Why, EVERYbody is talking of it.  Your pa goes to see Rosemary West.  She is going to be your step-ma.”

“I don’t believe it,” cried Una, flushing crimson.

“Well, I dunno.  I just go by what folks say. I don’t give it for a fact.  But it would be a good thing.  Rosemary West’d make you toe the mark if she came here, I’ll bet a cent, for all she’s so sweet and smiley on the face of her.  They’re always that way till they’ve caught them.  But you need some one to bring you up.  You’re disgracing your pa and I feel for him.  I’ve always thought an awful lot of your pa ever since that night