All but T.O. mourned audibly the rapidly lessening days, but T.O. made
no useless laments. One day she surprised them.

"Girls, I _want_ to go back!" she announced. "I shall be ready when
it's time--now anybody can say what anybody pleases. Scoff at me--do.
I expect it! But I'm getting homesick to see a street-car and a--a
policeman! It's lovely and peaceful here, but I've had my fill of it
now--I want to go home and bump into crowds and hear big, stirry noises.
It's different with you girls--you weren't born in the city; you didn't
play with street-cars and policemen and get sung to sleep by the noises!
I was tired--tired--and now I'm rested. I've had a perfectly beautiful
time, but I shall be ready to go back. Honestly, girls, it would break
my heart not to!"

It was so much like T.O., Billy said, to keep all her feelings to
herself and then suddenly spring them on people like that, and take
people's breath away. Billy did not keep things to herself.

* * * * *

Jane Cotton came up the kitchen path one day when all but Loraine were
sitting on the doorsteps--Loraine had strolled nonchalantly down the
street as her afternoon habit was.

"Well, I've found out!" announced Jane Cotton. She was beaming; her
sallow face was oddly cleared and lighted--her lips trembled with
eagerness to deliver her news. "I've _found out_! Where's the rest
o' you?" She counted them over. "It's the rest o' you I want--well, you
tell her I've found out. Tell her I hardly slept a wink last night,
I was so happy! Tell her I _bless_ her, and I know the Lord will.