“That’s all right,” Papa growled. “Only thing is, they get you all upset and that’s what makes me sore. Carson’s been mighty nice to me and you don’t seem to appreciate that. He says I’d be worth a fortune to him on the road. You said you didn’t want me to work nights at the factory so I told him so. He knows I’m too smart for that. Besides if I go on the road, maybe I can pick up a chance at a big job—maybe in Cleveland, Chicago, Pittsburgh. London Junction isn’t the only place in the world.”

“Oh, Harry! A real city?” then their mother’s voice dropped. “But we’ve hardly lived in London Junction yet. I’m not sure I’d like Cleveland.”

Scraps from these scenes were excitedly pieced together in the dark into whispered clues by Lena and Marcia; they were repeated to Mary Evelyn at recess the next day, eventually resulting in Mary Evelyn’s mother saying to Lena’s mother at the Fair Store one day, “Well, I hear you folks are moving to Cleveland any day now. Your little girl told my little girl.” Mama was surprised, then burst out laughing, though later she scolded Lena for telling lies. Lena cried, but Marcia boldly spoke up, “If Papa tells lies, then we can tell lies, too!” This brought Mama’s wrath on Marcia, while Lena complacently ran out to play with Mary Evelyn.

The mature new life of her older sister was desperately fascinating to Marcia, now constantly left out. On Sundays she hoped to have Lena to herself for Sunday School, but even there Mary Evelyn came first. One Sunday they were dressed up in their green nun’s veiling jumper dresses with polka-dot blouses and felt tricorn hats, ready to march off to the First Christian Church, a penny in each little crocheted purse. But at the corner of Maple and Fourth they met Mary Evelyn.

“Hello, Mary Evelyn,” said Lena.

“Hello, Lena Gladys,” said Mary Evelyn.

“Hello,” Marcia said breathlessly, but Mary Evelyn paid no attention, just staring at Lena as if they had a secret together.

“You go on to the Christian Church,” Lena directed Marcia, firmly. “I’m going to Mary Evelyn’s Sunday School.”

“But you can’t!” gasped Marcia. “Mary Evelyn is a Presbyterian, and they sing different songs.”