"It still looks wild," said Treasure softly. "But it is such a lovely wildness--all the ugly grime is gone, and the beauty of it is more beautiful than ever. And it doesn't make you shiver now--it only makes you sad." "It does not make me sad," said Zee. "I am never sad when there are chicken sandwiches. And this china-- Well, I know it is better than ours at the manse, and it was given to us by our last Christian Endeavor, so you may know it is very nice indeed--but this is better still--and I believe to goodness these are regular silver spoons. And do you suppose the colored man is his servant? And hasn't he any wife? And do you think he bought this place? I wonder where he got the money? And why does he stay out of sight--he ought to come and eat with us, since we are company?" The Curious Cat waved his arms helplessly. "I am trying to bring a spirit from the air to answer your questions. But it does not work. I am afraid I ate too many sandwiches. I never can do my enchantments when I eat more than six sandwiches at a sitting." "I think we ought to go," said Treasure. "I am afraid we are not just welcome. Wouldn't it be lovely to lie around here a whole day, Zee? But we have to go." "Can you truly sneak us in without any one catching us?" "We are going to try." So they drove hurriedly home to the manse again, and the girls said good-by to their Curious Cat and felt that after all he had his good points. He did not say a word about the shattered door of the barn, and the girls did not wonder until he had lifted his hat and disappeared how he was going to get back to his horse again. They closed the doors of the barn sadly and went into the house. How quiet and cool and beautiful the manse was that afternoon. They walked slowly, appreciatively through every room. Doris, sitting in the bay-window with the eternal mending, was like a glorious madonna, and they put their arms around her and kissed her tenderly, as girls returned from a long absence. But she took it very placidly. They saw Rosalie lying on her bed up-stairs, reading, and eating an apple. How pretty and dear Rosalie was. They stood in the doorway and looked at her almost worshipfully. Outside their father's study they stood a long time, thinking, but went at last to their own room and closed the door. A little later they heard their father at the telephone, asking questions--but it was aimless conversation, they could make nothing of it. How strange it was that they had not been missed. Such wonderful things had happened, life had been spared to them by less than a fraction of an inch--and here were their loved ones, Doris mending, Rosalie eating apples, father writing a sermon--as serenely as though two dear young daughters had not just been returned to them from the shadow of the grave.