You don't--you don't think he'd mind,
do you?"
In the dark Aunt Olivia smiled. The small person there on the
pillows was, after all, a child. Rebecca Mary had not grown up,
after all!
"He won't mind," promised Aunt Olivia for the minister. She went
away presently and cut out Rebecca Mary's new nightgowns. She sat
and stitched them, far into the night, and stitched her sad
little bodings in, one by one. Already desolation gripped Aunt
Olivia's heart.
Rebecca Mary's dreams that night were marvelous ones. She dreamed
she saw herself in a glass after she had learned all the things
there were to learn, and she looked like the minister! When she
spoke, her voice sounded deep and sweet like the minister's voice.
Somewhere a voice like the minister's wife's seemed to be calling
"Robert! Robert!"
"Yes?" answered Rebecca Mary, and woke up.
There were many preparations to make. The days sped by busily,
and to Rebecca Mary full of joyous expectancy. Aunt Olivia made
no moan. She worked steadily over the plain little outfit and
thrust her Dreads away with resolute courage, to wait until
Rebecca Mary was gone. Time enough then.
"You're doing right--that ought to comfort you," encouraged Duty,
kindly.
"Clear out!" was what Aunt Olivia cried out, sharply, in answer.
"You've done enough--this is all your work! Don't stand there
hugging yourself.
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