"Oh, Robert, why didn't you?"
"Felicia!--my dear!"--for the minister was modest.
"You know plenty for two Rebecca Marys," she triumphed. "Didn't
you appropriate all the honors at college, you selfish boy!"
"It's too late now, dear." But the minister's eyes thanked her,
and the big clasp of his arms. A minister may be mortal.
"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," spoke the minister's wife, in
riddles. "We'll wait and see."
"But, Felicia--but, dear, they're both them Plummers."
"Maybe they are and maybe they aren't," laughed she.
That night Aunt Olivia told Rebecca Mary--after she went to bed,
quite calmly:
"Rebecca Mary, how would you like to go away to school? For I'm
going to send you, my dear."
"'Away--to school--my dear!'" echoed Rebecca Mary, sitting
upright in bed. Her slight figure stretched up rigid and
preternaturally tall in the dim light.
"Yes; the minister advises it--I left it to him. He thinks you
ought to have advantages." Aunt Olivia slipped down suddenly beside
the little rigid figure and touched it rather timidly. She felt a
little in awe of the Rebecca Mary who knew more than her teacher did.
"They all seem to think you're--smart, my dear," Aunt Olivia said,
and she would scarcely have believed it could be so hard to say it.
For the life of her she could not keep the pride from pricking through
her tone.
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