Felicity brushed at her tears and nodded her head.

"You can take your treasures with you," continued Jennifer, trying to console her brokenhearted sister.

A fresh torrent of tears ran down Felicity's cheeks. "But Ia"I can't take my friends ora""

"But if everyone has to movea"perhaps our friends will be going with us," Jennifer said to her sister.

"Where?" Felicity sobbed.

"Ia"I don't know. To wherever we have to go. To another mill. Their papas work in the mill too," Jennifer reminded Felicity.

Felicity began mopping up. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose noisily. Jennifer was glad that the worst of the storm was spent. She crossed to her sister and laid a loving hand on her shoulder.

"We'll be all right," she a.s.sured Felicity again, wishing with all her heart that she felt as confident as her words sounded.

Felicity nodded. She pushed herself up from the bed and straightened her skirts. Then she went to the dresser, picked up a hairbrush, and brushed her hair into place. "I'm going to go wash my face," she told Jennifer. When she returned a short while later she showed no trace of her tears.

Jennifer wished that she could dismiss the incident as easily. Inside, she still felt knotted, twisted. In spite of her brave words to Felicity, she did not feel a.s.surance about their future.

"Let's ask Mama if we can go get that greena"" began Felicity.

Jennifer stopped her with a quick shake of her head. "Not now!" she exclaimed. "Papa has no job."

Felicity looked surprised, as though she had already forgotten their circ.u.mstance, but then her eyes softened and she nodded her head in agreement.

"I guess that would be unthinkable," she finished lamely. "Well then, let's ask if we can go to the drugstore for a soda," she continued. "Surely we can still afford that."

Jennifer gave her a dark look, and Felicity stared back at her.

"Felicity Harrigan," said Jennifer sternly, "we are thirteen years of age. Surely we can be understanding when our parents are in trouble."

Felicity shrugged. "Okay, okay," she said impatiently, "so what are you going to do to make things right, Miss Know-It-All?"

"Ia"I don't know it all," stammered Jennifer. "Ia"I just know that we can't be asking for things when Papa is without a job. There will be no moneya""

Felicity's eyes brightened. "That's it!" she squealed, and threw her arms around Jennifer's shoulders.

"That's what?" questioned Jennifer.

"Jobs! We are old enough to have jobs. We can help Papa."

Jennifer held herself in check for a moment; then she hugged Felicity in return.

"Of course!" she agreed. "Of course. We can find jobs."

"Let's not tell them," suggested Felicity; "not until we each have found a place to work."

"Buta"" began Jennifer.

"We will talk to Hettie. Tell her that we are going up town for a soda and she can tell Mama."

"Buta"" began Jennifer again. She would not liea"even to conceal their plans of helping the family.

"And we will get a soda," continued Felicity, walking to her dresser and opening a drawer. "Here," she said, producing some coins. "I have enough for a soda. It's from what Papa gave me last week."

Jennifer had never known Felicity to keep any of her spending money. But there were the coins in her hand. It reminded Jennifer that she too had money stashed in her drawer. But even as she thought of it she decided to leave the money where it was. Who knew how soon her papa would find another job? Perhaps her money would be needed for things other than sodas.

"Okay," she finally conceded. "Let's go see Hettie."

As they proceeded to the kitchen, Jennifer's mind was troubled. Never before had they made their own plans and gone off to the drug store without asking permission from their mother. Jennifer hoped that Felicity's ideaa"as good as it seemeda"did not get them both in trouble.

Chapter Four.

Sharing The news of the mill's closing had traveled fast. The whole town was in shock. As Felicity and Jennifer sipped a common soda at the drugstore they heard the somber, low voices of men and the frightened, shrill voices of women. It seemed to be the topic of all conversations.

"What on earth will we do?" they heard one woman ask. "We were just getting back on our feet after all of those medical bills. Now this."

Her friend tried to be rea.s.suring, but her own voice broke as she answered, "I guess we'll have to go elsewhere. Start over."

"Start over?" questioned the first, her voice quivering. "We're too old to start over."

"What you plannin'?" a man asked his neighbor.

"Don't know. Just don't know," answered the second. "Right now my wife is sick. I came to pick up some medicine. Doc says the change might be good for her. The smoke here has always bothered her."

The first man nodded. "Maybe it will," he agreed, but there was doubt in his eyes. What good was a change if there was no money with which to buy the needed medicine?

"Came at a bad time," said a third man.

"For everyone," agreed the first, his eyes heavy with the worry of it.

As they listened to the people talk, Jennifer and Felicity sensed more than ever the seriousness of the situation. Their problem was not an isolated one. The whole town was affected, just as their father had said. What would happen to all of them? Was there anything two young girls could do?

It was Jennifer who shook them from their despair.

"If we are going to find jobs, we'd better hurry," she whispered to Felicity. "Everyone our age might soon be looking for work."

Felicity stopped flirting with the young man stocking the drugstore shelves and jumped to her feet. Jennifer was right.

"You take this side of the street and I'll take the other side," she ordered Jennifer and then quickly reversed her decision. "No, you take the other side, I'll take this side." It would be wonderful if the druggist needed more help to fill his shelves, she was thinking.

But the druggist was not interested in another clerka"not even a soda jerk. He smiled at Felicity and shook his head sadly.

"Don't know how much longer I'll be here," he admitted. "Not the right time to be hiring."

All of the merchants along the little street said much the same thing. No one was hiring. Felicity pushed back her hair from her warm face and trudged on. She hoped that Jennifer was having better luck. When the girls met at the end of the main street, however, Jennifer's report was no more encouraging than Felicity's.

"We'd better get home before Mama starts to worry," said Jennifer.

Felicity reluctantly agreed. Besides, she was thirsty, and they had spent all of her money on the soda.

"We mustn't say anything about the mill closing when we get home," Jennifer warned. "Mama and Papa will want to tell us at the proper time."

Felicity nodded and waved to a friend across the street.

Everything was quiet when the girls reached home. They found Hettie in the kitchen serving late-morning coffee to Tom, her husband, who worked the gardens and was general caretaker around the manor. Both looked unusually serious but brightened when the girls walked in.

"You lookin' for a snack?" asked Hettie. Although she had never had children of her own, Hettie had a knack for understanding them. She always knew what the girls wanted and needed.

"Do you have more lemonade?" asked Jennifer, hoping that her voice sounded unconcerned and normal.

"I sure do," answered the older woman, patting Felicity's golden head as she pa.s.sed her.

"And you, missie?" she asked Felicity.

"The same," responded Felicity without much enthusiasm. Tom lifted his head as though curious, but made no comment.

"Cookies?" asked Hettie. "Got some fresh gingerbread."

"Just lemonade," said Felicity.

"So what has taken the starch outta you?" asked Tom, his hands cradling his coffee.

"We just shared a soda," Felicity answered. "Where's Mama?" She almost asked for Papa as well, but caught herself in time.

"In the garden," Tom answered.

The two girls thanked Hettie for the lemonade and left for the garden. It seemed important to see their mother. They had to know how she was.

Julia was attacking the rose bed with all of the energy in her slim body, singing hymns in her rich soprano as she worked. Jennifer and Felicity exchanged relieved glances and smiled at their mother as she turned toward them.

"Where have you two been?" asked Julia, halting her song long enough to pose the question.

"Didn't Hettie tell you?" asked Felicity.

"Since when is Hettie your messenger?" Julia responded, stepping back to study the two faces before her.

"We just went to the drugstore," offered Felicity.

"I have no objection to your going to the drugstorea"when you have permission to do so," Julia replied evenly.

Both heads dropped.

"Sorry, Mama," murmured Jennifer. She had known they would get themselves in trouble.

"You know the rules of the household," went on Julia. "Permission is always needed to leave your own yard. I don't think that is too much to expect. Do you?"

Two heads shook as one.

"In the future, you will see that permission is granteda"first," stated Julia.

This time the two heads nodded.

Julia turned again to her rose beds, and the girls went back to the house and sat in the swing. Jennifer squirmed on the wooden seat, but Felicity had already forgotten the scolding.

"I cleaned my closet," she called to her mother.

Jennifer sucked in her breath.

Julia lifted her head. "I'm glad to hear that," she responded.

"It's as clean as Jennifer's," went on Felicity.

"Good," said Julia.

"Do I get a reward?" asked Felicity.

"Indeed!" said Julia, and Felicity's eyes sparkled.

"You may join us for dinner tonight," Julia finished.

"But I alwaysa"" began Felicity, then felt the nudge of Jennifer's toe.

"Exactly!" responded Julia, and turned back to her roses, singing as she worked.

After dinner, John lifted the family Bible from the bureau and turned the pages absentmindedly. He knew he had to tell the girls about the mill, but he wasn't quite sure how to do it, what to say. True, changes were in store for all of thema"but what changes?

He knew Julia was right. Of course G.o.d would care for thema"just as He had always done. But G.o.d had a.s.signed the care of the family to the father of the home, and John felt as if he were failing his family. Even though he was not responsible for the closing of the mill, he still felt the guilt. He wanted to supply for the needs of his family as he had done in the past.

Though he tried to appear confident, his shoulders sagged. He had spent the afternoon with other men from the lumber mill, and the conversation always came back to the same stark truth. There would be no work in this small town once the mill closed. And there would be no sale for propertya"no matter how fine it might be. The little town of Calder Springs would soon be a ghost town.

Julia reached for John's hand and tried to encourage him with one of her confident smilesa"though deep within her heart she felt little confidence.

John found the place where they were to continue their scripture reading and cleared his throat. He read the story of how Jesus fed 5,000 people with one young boy's lunch, and Julia found herself wondering just how many times in the future Christ would need to multiply the loaves in her cupboard.

The girls listened attentively to the scripture verses. Even Felicity seemed to be concentrating on what her father read.

John closed the Bible and laid it aside. He cleared his throat, and Julia knew he was searching for words.

"Before we pray," he said at last, "wea"Ia"there has been some news that has come to usa"your mama and mea"today that we need to tell you about because it affects all of us."