hen he looked very serious indeed, and replied:
"A pretty affair! What have you been doing?"
"Nothing, Uncle Enos; indeed I have done no mischief. Tell Aunt Martha that Amanda slapped me, and that I did not slap back."
Uncle Enos nodded, and made a motion for Anne to be silent, and Anne drew quickly back into the room.
"Uncle Enos will find out," she whispered to the little wooden doll, "Martha Stoddard," that her father had made for her when she was a very small girl, and which was still one of her greatest treasures. But the July afternoon faded into the long twilight and no one called to Anne to come down. She began to feel hungry. "I wish I had eaten my share of that luncheon and not given it to Amos to carry home," she thought. For on her way home she had met Amos and had given the lunch basket into his charge, telling him to carry it home to Amanda, but saying nothing of Amanda's anger.
As Anne sat in the loft chamber waiting for the call that did not come, she began t