"Peace, Peace! Where are you?" called an excited voice from below, and the brown-eyed philosopher jumped up from her burlap couch with the shout, "Coming, Allee! I hope you find your senses pretty soon, Faith, for the doctor says when that happens you will be all right and not have any more headache." The faded red coat disappeared down the ladder, and Faith was left alone again. But she read no more. The sad story had lost its interest, and she cast aside the magazines without another glance. Was what Mr. Jones had told Peace true? Was there a possibility that the home must be broken up? Was the doctor right in his verdict? Did all the sisters feel that she could be spared the easiest? That was a fierce battle Faith waged with herself in the barn, but when it was ended a determined-faced girl rose from the dusty floor, descended the old ladder, and hurried away toward the village. It was noon before she returned, and the five sisters, anxious over her unusual absence, were just sitting down to a frugal dinner of mush and milk when she entered the door, looking excited and queer, but with a happier light in her eyes than had been there for months. The minute grace was said, Peace demanded suspiciously, "Where have you been all this time?" "Drumming up trade," was the startling answer. "I've got six regular cake customers, and several who promised to buy of me when they needed anything in my line." Faith was awake at last. CHAPTER X COMPANY FOR SUPPER "Cherry, do you know it's 'most night, and those girls aren't at home yet? They said they'd sure be here by four o'clock, and here 'tis five and they haven't come." Peace was plainly worried, and with a half-impatient sigh, Cherry closed her fascinating story book and joined her sister watching at the window for the belated girls who had gone in town with Mrs. Grinnell that morning. "P'r'aps the horse run away," suggested Allee. "They were coming back on the car, 'cause Mrs. Grinnell was to stay all night with her relations." "Then maybe the car run off the track." "That's just what I've been thinking. S'posing they don't come home tonight! What will we do for supper?" "Hope will get some when she comes home from Edwards'." "This is the day she stays so late. She won't get home until Mr. Edwards brings her, at almost bedtime." "Can't we help ourselves?" "'Course, if we wanted to, but that won't be supper for Gail and Faith when they get home all tired out." "Well, then, can't we _cook_ a supper?" "What?" "Why--potatoes and--" "Eggs, I s'pose you'll say. I'm tired of eggs. If we don't stop having them so often, we will all turn into Humpty-Dumpties. S'posing we were eggs and had to walk and act _so_ careful or else get smashed. 'Twouldn't take long to finish me, would it? I don't want eggs for supper. Let's have rice." "Is there any?" "A whole sackful." "Do you know how to cook it?" "Why, in water, of course, just like mush or oatmeal, only it takes longer to get soft."