"Five of _you_, Janey," said the wit with a child's irreverence.

"Just _when_ is it coming to an end? Girls, there's no use to study any more lessons."

"It will be next week," said Hester with almost tragic solemnity. "But you must all go on doing your work just the same."

"I don't see the sense. I've just begun fractions, and I hate them. I won't do another sum."

The bell rang and recess was at an end. The girls straggled until they reached the doorway, then suddenly straightened themselves into an orderly line and took their seats quietly. There was a sound of rapidly moving pencils--slates and pencils were in full swing then. No one had invented "pads."

One after another read out answers. A few went up to Mrs. Craven for a.s.sistance.

"Lottie Brower," the lady said presently.

Lottie colored. She had a kind of school-girl grudge against Hester.

"I--I haven't done my sums," she replied slowly.

"Why not?"

"Because the world is coming to an end. They're so hard, and what is the use if we're not going to live longer than next week?"

Every girl stopped her work and stared at Hester, amazed, yet rather enjoying Lottie's audacity.

"How did you come by such an idea?" asked Mrs. Craven quietly.

"But _is_ there any use of studying or anything?" Lottie's voice had a little tremble in it. "I'm sure I don't want the world to come to an end, but----"

"Do your people believe this?"

"No, ma'am," replied Lottie.

"Where, then, did you get the idea?"

"Hester Brown is sure----"

Hester's face was scarlet. She felt that she was called upon to bear witness.

"My father and mother believe it, and we are all getting ready. My uncle means to give away all his things next week."

The girl was in such earnest that Mrs. Craven was puzzled for a moment.

"I do not think we shall know the day or the hour," was the reply. "We are all exhorted to go on diligently with whatever we are doing. And Lottie, Hester has certainly set you an example. She did her sums correctly. She has added works to her faith as the Bible commands. I am aware many people think the end of the world is near, but that is no reason for our being careless and indolent. I doubt if that excuse would be accepted; at all events, I cannot accept yours."

"But I hate fractions! The divisors and the multiples get all mixed up and go racing round in my head until I can't tell one from the other."

"Bring your slate here." Mrs. Craven made room for her by the table.

"Now, what is the trouble?"

Twelve o'clock struck before Lottie was through, but she had to admit that it wasn't so "awful" when Mrs. Craven explained the sums in her quiet, lucid manner. The girls rose and went to the closet for their hats and capes.

"Girls," began Mrs. Craven, "I want to say a word. I hope each one of you will respect the other's religious belief. Our country has been founded on the corner-stone of liberty in this matter, and one ought to be n.o.ble enough not to ridicule or sneer at any honest, sincere faith, remembering that we cannot all believe alike."

Hester went out with two or three of the larger girls.

"I do not think you were quite kind, Lottie," said her teacher, in a soft tone.

"But what would be the use of fractions if the world came to an end?"

"Oh, Mrs. Craven! _do_ you believe it? I should feel just dreadful. The world has so many splendid things in it--and to be burned up."

"I should just be frightened to death," and one little girl shuddered.

"Children, I am sorry anything has been said about this. There are a good many people who believe and who have preached for the last three years that the end of the world is near. The time has been set for next week. Yet the Bible _does_ say that _no_ man knoweth the day nor the hour. I do not believe in these predictions," and she smiled rea.s.suringly. "I think we can all count on Thanksgiving and a merry Christmas as well as a happy New Year. I want you all to be kind to each other, and when Hester is disappointed next week, to refrain from teasing her. If you think for a moment, you will find it very easy to believe just as your parents do, for you love them the best of any one in this world. And the more you respect and obey them, the more ready you are to be kind and gentle and truthful to all about you, the better you are serving G.o.d. You must leave this matter in His hands, and remember that He loves you all, and will do whatever is best. Don't feel troubled about the world coming to an end. I am afraid Lottie here will have a great deal more trouble about fractions. I doubt if she gets through by Christmas. Now run home or you will be late for dinner."

The little girl sat very quiet at the table. There was only her mother, John, and the boys. She wished that her father or Steve were here so she could ask them. A strange awe was creeping over her. It seemed so dreadful to have all the world burned up. There might be some people left behind in the hurry. It hurt terribly to be burned even a little.

There was a very sober lot of girls at school that afternoon. The jest was all taken out of recess. Hester sat on the steps reading a little pocket Testament. The others huddled together and shook their heads mysteriously, saying just above a whisper, "I don't believe it." "My mother says it isn't so." But somehow they did not seem to fortify themselves much with these protestations.

Some of the elder cousins had come to visit and take tea. People went visiting by three in the afternoon and carried their work along. There was an atmosphere of relationship and real living that gave a certain satisfaction. You enjoyed it. It was not paying a social debt reluctantly, relieved to have it over, but a solid, substantial pleasure.

Martha took the little girl up-stairs and put on a blue delaine frock and white ap.r.o.n, and polished her "buskins," as the low shoes were called.

Then she went into the parlor and spoke to all the ladies. She had her lace in a little bag, and presently she sat down on an ottoman and took out her work.

"You don't mean to say that child can knit lace? And oak-leaf, too, I do declare! What a smart little girl!"

"Oh, she embroiders quite nicely, also. Hannah Ann, get your ap.r.o.n and show Cousin Dorcas."

The ap.r.o.n was praised and the handkerchiefs she had marked for her father were brought out. Then she was asked what she was studying at school.

Cousin Dorcas was knitting "sh.e.l.ls" for a counterpane. There was one of white and one of red, and they were put together in a rather long diamond shape with a row of openwork between every block. It was for her daughter, who was going to be married in the spring, and it interested the little girl wonderfully.

Then they talked about Steve and Dolly Beekman. While the girls were at White Plains, Steve had coaxed his father and mother up to the Beekmans', and the engagement had been settled with all due formality.

Dolly and her mother had been down and taken tea. And now Steve went up every Sunday afternoon and stayed to supper, and once or twice through the week, and took Dolly out driving and escorted her to parties.

The Beekmans were good, solid people, and Peggy ought to be satisfied that Stephen had chosen so wisely. "Was it true that Steve had been buying some land way out of town? Did he mean to build there?"

"Oh, dear, no!" answered his mother. "It was a crazy thing, but John had really persuaded him, and John was too young to have any judgment. But he said the Astors were buying up there, and land was almost given away."

"I don't know what it's good for," declared Aunt Frasie. "Why it'll be forty years before the city'll go out there. Well, it may be good for his grandchildren."

They all gave a little laugh.

Presently another of the cousins sat down at the piano and played the "Battle of Prague."

Then Aunt Frasie said, "Do sing something. It doesn't seem half like music without the singing."

Maria Jane ran her fingers over the keys, and began a plaintive air very much in vogue: