a. Red spots of shame flamed in both sallow little cheeks;
resolution sat astride her little uphill nose. She could not bear to go,
but it was easier than being ashamed. The pointing fingers of all the
Plummers pushed her on. Go she must, or be a coward. Long ago--it seemed
long to Rebecca Mary--she had stood up straight and stanch and refused
to make any more sheets. Was that little girl who had dared, THIS little
girl who was afraid? Should that little girl be ashamed of this one?

"Aunt Olivia," steadily, though Rebecca Mary's heart was pounding
hard--"Aunt Olivia, are--are you well off?"

She had not meant to begin like that, but afterwards she was glad that
she had.

"My grief!" Aunt Olivia ejaculated in her surprise. What would the child
ask next? "Am I well off? If you mean rich, no, I ain't."

"Oh! Then you're--why, I didn't think about your being poor! I shouldn't
have thought of asking--that makes a great difference. I never thought
of THAT!"

She was off before Aunt Olivia had fully recovered her breath, and
the stumping of her heavy little shoes going upstairs was the only
distinctly audible sound. In her own room Rebecca Mary stopped, panting.

"Oh, I'm glad I didn't get as far as ASKING!" she breathed aloud. "I
never thought about her being poor--of course then I wouldn't ask!"

But she squared her shoulders and stood up, straight and unashamed. For
she had vindicated herself. She had been ready to ask. She could look
that other little girl of the sheets in the face. The Other Little Girl
was there, coming to meet her as she advanced to the little looking
glass above the table. But Rebecca Mary waved her back peremptorily.

"Go right back!" she said. "I only came to tell you I wasn't a
coward--that's all. Good-bye. For I'm not coming any more. You're sorry
I'm homely, and I'm sorry you are, but it doesn't do any good for us to
look at each other and groan. It will make us unsatisfied. So I shall
turn you back to the wall--good-bye."

But for a very [long] instant they looked sadly into each other's
little lean brown-yellow faces. It was a brief ceremony of farewell.
"Good-bye," smiled Rebecca Mary, bravely. And the lips of The Other
Little Girl moved as though saying it too. The Other Little Girl smiled.
And neither of them knew that just then she was beautiful.

Aunt Olivia was trying to meet her own courage test. She had been trying
a good many days. Duty--stern, unswerving duty--bade her inspe