"I remember it because it was the day before the picnic at the old mill." "And there was a sick baby in the tent when we went in to have our fortunes told," added Joyce.

"It lay in the old woman's lap all the time she held my hand, and it kept turning its head from side to side, and fretting in a weak little voice as if it didn't have strength to cry hard.

That must have been the poor little thing that died." "And you all went into that tent and all let that old woman hold your hands ?" asked Mrs.Sherman, looking around from one to another with a distressed face.
"No, mothah," cried the Little Colonel, "Betty didn't go, and she tried to keep us from goin'.

She said you wouldn't like it." A loving smile of unspoken approval, that made Betty's heart glow with pleasure, lighted Mrs.Sherman's face for an instant.

Then she turned to the others.
"Well, I'll send for Doctor Fuller immediately.