e better for meeting in this
neighborly fashion," and Mr. Foster ended his sentence with a whistle
like a bird's note. "You must come with the others to the liberty pole
on Sabbath morning," he added. "Parson Lyon is to preach to us there,
and 'twill be a great occasion."

"Yes, sir," Rebby responded, and went slowly on up the slope. It began
to seem to her that she would never escape from the liberty pole. And
now she met Mr. and Mrs. Lyon, with Melvina dancing along in front of
them. "More like Danna than Danna is like herself," thought Rebby,
smiling, as she remembered how sedately and quietly Melvina had walked
before Danna and Luretta had played their mischievous pranks on the day
of the tempest.

The neighbors had all gone when Rebecca reached home, and Mrs. Weston
and Anna were in the house, while Mr. Weston and Paul were taking up the
seats under the elm trees. The pieces of the broken lustre mug lay on
the kitchen table, and Rebby's face clouded as she stood looking at
them.

"Lucia Horton dropped it on purpose!" she said. "I know she did."

"And nobody asked her to come to our party," added Anna; "'twas rude of
her to come."

Mrs. Weston looked in astonishment at her two little daughters.

"Not ask Lucia?" she questioned, and listened to Rebby's explanation:
that, because of the Hortons' store of dainties, and their scorn of the
simple fare of their neighbors, Rebby had decided not to ask Lucia to
her party.

But when the little girl had finished her story, Mrs. Weston shook her
head disapprovingly.

"I am not pleased with you, Rebecca," she said. "'Twas not a kind
thought to sit in judgment and decide to punish a friend for something
that is no fault of hers. Lucia did right to come. Of course she thought
you would welcome her."

"She didn't! She didn't!" exclaimed Rebby. "She made up faces at me, and
said--"

"Never mind, Rebecca. You see what comes from quarreling. Your mug is
broken, Lucia's dress is spoiled, and you had no pleasure from the
afternoon. Now, there is something for you to do to put this straight.
You must take off your pinafore, put on your sunbonnet, and go straight
to Mrs. Horton's and ask Lucia's pardon."

"Oh, Mother!" wailed Rebby. "It isn't fair. It isn't my fault."

But Mrs. Weston was firm. From Rebby's own story her mother decided that
she had been unfair to Lucia; she did not ask if Rebby had purposely
spilled the honey on Lucia's muslin dress, but she felt it was n