ing to finish it."

"Lay your parasol in the entry closet."

"Do you mind if I keep it in my room, please? It always seems safer."

"There ain't any thieves hereabouts, and if there was, I guess they
wouldn't make for your sunshade; but come along. Remember to always go
up the back way; we don't use the front stairs on account o' the
carpet; take care o' the turn and don't ketch your foot; look to your
right and go in. When you've washed your face and hands and brushed
your hair you can come down, and by and by we'll unpack your trunk and
get you settled before supper. Ain't you got your dress on hind side
foremost?"

Rebecca drew her chin down and looked at the row of smoked pearl
buttons running up and down the middle of her flat little chest. "Hind
side foremost? Oh, I see! No, that's all right. If you have seven
children you can't keep buttonin' and unbuttonin' 'em all the
time--they have to do themselves. We're always buttoned up in front at
our house. Mira's only three, but she's buttoned up in front, too."

Miranda said nothing as she closed the door, but her looks were more
eloquent than words.

Rebecca stood perfectly still in the centre of the floor and looked
about her. There was a square of oilcloth in front of each article of
furniture and a drawn-in rug beside the single four poster, which was
covered with a fringed white dimity counterpane.

Everything was as neat as wax, but the ceilings were much higher than
Rebecca was accustomed to. It was a north room, and the window, which
was long and narrow, looked out on the back buildings and the barn.

It was not the room, which was far more comfortable than Rebecca's own
at Sunnybrook Farm, nor the lack of view, nor yet the long journey, for
she was not conscious of weariness; it was not the fear of a strange
place, for she adored new places and new sensations; it was because of
some curious blending of uncomprehended emotions that Rebecca stood her
beloved pink sunshade in the corner, tore off her best hat, flung it on
the bureau with the porcupine quills on the under side, and stripping
down the dimity spread, precipitated herself into the middle of the bed
and pulled the counterpane over her head.

In a moment the door opened with a clatter of the latch.

Knocking was a refinement quite unknown in Riverboro, and if it had
been heard of, it would never have been wasted on a child. Miss Miranda
entered, and as her eye wandered about the vacant roo