"You must come over and--and do something," she said, at the
conclusion of her strange little story. "It seems to me it's time
for the minister to step in."
"What can I do, Miss Plummer?" the embarrassed young man ejaculated,
with a feeling of helplessness.
"Talk to her," groaned Aunt Olivia, in her agony. "Tell her what
her duty is. Rebecca Mary might listen to the minister. All she's
got to do is to take just one stitch to show her submission. It
won't take but an instant. I've got supper all out on the kitchen
table--I don't care if it's ten o'clock at night!"
"It isn't a case for the minister. It's a case for the Society for
the Prevention of Cruelty to Children!" fumed the minister's kind
little wife inwardly. And she stole away in the twilight to deal
with little Rebecca Mary herself. She came back to the minister by
and by, red-eyed and fierce.
"You needn't go over; I've been. It won't do any good, Robert.
That poor, stiff-willed, set little thing is starving by inches!"
"I think her aunt is, too!"
"Well, perhaps--I can't help it, Robert, perhaps the--aunt--ought--to."
"My dear!--Felicia!"
"I told you I couldn't help it. She is so hungry, Robert! If you
had seen her--What do you think she was doing when I got there?"
"Crying?"
"Crying! She was laughing.
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