The Good-Conduct Club had a special session the next morning before school. After various suggestions, it was that a fast day would be an appropriate punishment.  
"We won't eat a single thing for a whole day," said Jerry. "I'm kind of curious to see what fasting is like, anyhow. This will be a good chance to find out."
 
"What day will we choose for it?" asked Una, who thought it would he quite an easy punishment and rather wondered that Jerry and Faith had not devised something harder.
 
"Let's pick Monday," said Faith. "We mostly have a pretty FILLING dinner on Sundays, and Mondays meals never amount to much anyhow."
 
"But that's just the point," exclaimed Jerry. "We mustn't take the easiest day to fast, but the hardest—and that's Sunday, because, as you say, we mostly have roast beef that day instead of cold ditto. It wouldn't be much punishment to fast from ditto. Let's take next Sunday. It will be a good day, for father is going to exchange for the morning service with the Upper Lowbridge minister. Father will be away till evening. If Aunt Martha wonders what's got into us, we'll tell her right up that we're fasting for the good of our souls, and it is in the Bible and she is not to , and I guess she won't."
 
Aunt Martha did not. She merely said in her fretful way, "What foolishness are you young rips up to now?" and thought no more about it. Mr. Meredith had gone away early in the morning before any one was up. He went without his breakfast, too, but that was, of course, of common occurrence. Half of the time he forgot it and there was no one to remind him of it. Breakfast—Aunt Martha's breakfast—was not a hard meal to miss. Even the hungry "young rips" did not feel it any great to from the "lumpy porridge and blue milk" which had aroused the scorn of Mary Vance. But it was different at dinner time. They were furiously hungry then, and the odor of roast beef which the manse, and which was wholly in spite of the fact that the roast beef was badly underdone, was almost more than they could stand. In desperation they rushed to the where they couldn't smell it. But Una could not keep her eyes from the dining room window, through which the Upper Lowbridge minister could be seen, eating.
 
"If I could only have just a weeny, teeny piece," she sighed.
 
"Now, you stop that," commanded Jerry. "Of course it's hard—but that's the punishment of it. I could eat a graven image this very minute, but am I complaining? Let's think of something else. We've just got to rise above our stomachs."
 
At supper time they did not feel the of hunger which they had suffered earlier in the day.
 
"I suppose we're getting used to it," said Faith. "I feel an queer all-gone sort of feeling, but I can't say I'm hungry."
 
"My head is funny," said Una. "It goes round and round sometimes."
 
But she went gamely to church with the others. If Mr. Meredith had not been so wholly wrapped up in and carried away with his subject he might have noticed the pale little face and hollow eyes in the manse pew beneath. But he noticed nothing and his sermon was something longer than usual. Then, just before be gave out the final , Una Meredith tumbled off the seat of the manse pew and lay in a dead faint on the floor.
 
Mrs. Elder Clow was the first to reach her. She caught the thin little body from the arms of white-faced, terrified Faith and carried it into the vestry. Mr. Meredith forgot the hymn and everything else and rushed madly after her. The congregation dismissed itself as best it could.
 
"Oh, Mrs. Clow," Faith, "is Una dead? Have we killed her?"
 
"What is the matter with my child?" demanded the pale father.
 
"She has just fainted, I think," said Mrs. Clow. "Oh, here's the doctor, thank goodness."
 
Gilbert did not find it a very easy thing to bring Una back to consciousness. He worked over her for a long time before her eyes opened. Then he carried her over to the manse, ............