Oh,
yes, it's very easy for you all to laugh! You didn't have to drink
it."
"We had to eat two meals, though," said Felicity with a shiver.
"And I don't know when those dishes of hers were washed. I just
shut my eyes and took gulps."
"Did you notice the soapy taste in the porridge?" asked the Story Girl.
"Oh, there were so many queer tastes about it I didn't notice one
more than another," answered Felicity wearily.
"What bothers me," remarked Peter absently, "is that skull. Do
you suppose Peg really finds things out by it?"
"Nonsense! How could she?" scoffed Felix, bold as a lion in daylight.
"She didn't SAY she did, you know," I said cautiously.
"Well, we'll know in time if the things she said were going to
happen do," mused Peter.
"Do you suppose your father is really coming home?" queried Felicity.
"I hope not," answered Peter decidedly.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Felicity severely.
"No, I oughtn't. Father got drunk all the time he was home, and
wouldn't work and was bad to mother," said Peter defiantly. "She
had to support him as well as herself and me. I don't want to see
any father coming home, and you'd better believe it. Of course,
if he was the right sort of a father it'd be different.
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