CHAPTER XI
A Dreadful Discovery
"WELL, you kids have gone and done it now," was Mary's greeting, as she joined them in the Valley. Miss Cornelia was up at Ingleside, holding agonized conclave with Anne and Susan, and Mary hoped that the session might be a long one, for it was all of two weeks since she had been allowed to revel with her chums in the dear valley of rainbows.
"Done what?" demanded everybody but Walter, who was day-dreaming as usual.
"It's you manse young ones, I mean," said Mary. "It was just awful of you. I wouldn't have done such a thing for the world, and I weren't brought up in a manse,—weren't brought up anywhere—just come up."
"What have we done?" asked Faith blankly.
"Done! You'd better ask! The talk is something terrible. I expect it's ruined your father in this congregation. He'll never be able to live it down, poor man! Everybody blames him for it, and that isn't fair. But nothing is fair in this world. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves."
"What have we done?" asked Una again, despairingly. Faith said nothing, but her eyes flashed golden-brown scorn at Mary.
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