They had walked to church as usual, but even on the quiet village street little groups of people were talking earnestly together, and every face they saw was grave, and a little anxious. The service had been beautiful, and the village children had sung the Easter carols, as they always did, but after the regular Easter sermon, the clergyman had made an earnest appeal to his congregation to do their duty as loyal Americans, and to be ready for sacrifice now that the call had come. Gretel had felt her heart thrill as she listened, and she could not help glancing at her schoolmates for sympathy. Amy Bowring was crying softly, and Ada looked flushed and excited. “I’ve been praying all winter that we might not have to go into the war,” Molly Chester whispered, as they walked down the aisle, while the organ played “The Star-Spangled Banner,” “but I’m glad we’re in now. I shouldn’t like to be ashamed of my country.” They had walked home very quietly, nobody feeling much inclined to talk, and now the midday dinner was over, and most of the girls had gathered in the schoolroom to write their weekly letters home. One of the things which had helped to make Miss Minton’s little school popular for so many years was the fact that she had always tried to make it as much as possible like home. There were a few rules, which must be followed, but in general the girls were allowed to do very much, out of lesson hours, as they would if they were in their own homes. Miss Minton always declared that she would not keep a girl in her school whom she could not trust, and when girls--and boys, too, for that matter--are put on their honor, it is really surprising how comparatively seldom they get into mischief. So the girls at Miss Minton’s were allowed to spend their Sunday afternoons very much as they would have spent them at home, although there was a general understanding that Sunday was the day for writing home letters. No one was obliged to attend afternoon service unless she wished, but in the evening they sang hymns, and Miss Minton asked Bible questions, which was quite exciting, as everybody tried to be ready with a correct answer, and Miss Minton had a disconcerting way of skipping about, so that it was impossible to guess what question she would ask next. On this Easter afternoon Grace, Olive, and one or two of the other girls, had gone to church with Miss Laura, and Miss Whiting, the arithmetic teacher, but Gretel, Geraldine, Molly, Kitty, Angel, and Ada were all in the schoolroom writing letters. For a while it was very quiet, with only the scratching of pens, and an occasional rustle of paper, to break the silence, but at last Ada finished her letter, and remarked, as she slipped it into the envelope: “I’ve written Mother that I don’t intend to take another German lesson. I know she’ll approve.” “I envy you,” said Kitty. “I wish I could write the same to my mother, but I know she’d say I must do as Miss Minton thinks best. I hate German.”