In this way a goodly sum was collected and laid on Miss Merton's
table.
"There, girls," said the triumphant Speckles. "That will show Julie
whether we have forgiven her or not. And now, do you hear that musical
whistle calling us back to our places? We'd better hustle for the
machines will start up in a minute or two. Machines are like time and
the tide, they wait for no man. Nor woman, either, not even for Julie
Benoit," and with a laugh, Speckles was off like the wind.
As the girls departed, each to her own machine or work-table, Miss
Merton looked after them, a tear in her eye and a smile upon her lips.
"God bless my girls," she said to herself. "Their hearts are in the
right place, every one of them. I need have no fear of the welcome they
will give my poor little Julie Benoit."
PETER.
Peter was thinking. Not that it was an unusual event for Peter to think.
Quite the contrary! To Peter himself it seemed that life was one
continuous round of thinking and planning and worrying. It certainly was
for him, especially since the advent of the baby, that wonderful baby
sister of his. Somehow things had not mattered so much before, when
there was no one to be considered but himself. Now it was different,
with his baby to be thought of and cared for. Peter was worried and
anxious. He felt that a great responsibility rested upon his shoulders.
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