talent, and he wants me to go
to New York and study in an art school there. He says Mrs. Stephens
finds it hard to get good help, and if I'd be willing to work for her
in the mornings, I could live with them and have my afternoons off. So
it won't cost much. And he said he would help me--and, oh, Aunt
Rebecca, can't I go?"

Jane Lavinia's breath gave out with a gasp of suspense.

Aunt Rebecca was silent for so long a space that Jane Lavinia had time
to pass through the phases of hope and fear and despair and
resignation before she said, more grimly than ever, "If your mind is
set on going, go you will, I suppose. It doesn't seem to me that I
have anything to say in the matter, Jane Lavinia."

"But, oh, Aunt Rebecca," said Jane Lavinia tremulously. "I can't go
unless you'll help me. I'll have to pay for my lessons at the art
school, you know."

"So that's it, is it? And do you expect me to give you the money to
pay for them, Jane Lavinia?"

"Not give--exactly," stammered Jane Lavinia. "I'll pay it back some
time, Aunt Rebecca. Oh, indeed, I will--when I'm able to earn money by
my pictures!"

"The security is hardly satisfactory," said Aunt Rebecca immovably.
"You know well enough I haven't much money, Jane Lavinia. I thought
when I was coaxed into giving you two quarters' lessons with Miss
Claxton that it was as much as you could expect me to do for you. I
didn't suppose the next thing would be that you'd be for betaking
yourself to New York and expecting me to pay your bills there."

Aunt Rebecca turned and went into the house. Jane Lavinia, feeling
sore and bruised in spirit; fled to her own room and cried herself to
sleep.

Her eyes were swollen the next morning, but she was not sulky. Jane
Lavinia never sulked. She did her morning's work faithfully, although
there was no spring in her step. That afternoon, when she was out in
the orchard trying to patch up her tattered dreams, Aunt Rebecca came
down the blossomy avenue, a tall, gaunt figure, with an uncompromising
face.

"You'd better go down to the store and get ten yards of white cotton,
Jane Lavinia," she said. "If you're going to New York, you'll have to
get a supply of underclothing made."

Jane Lavinia opened her eyes.

"Oh, Aunt Rebecca, am I going?"

"You can go if you want to. I'll give you all the money I can spare.
It ain't much, but perhaps it'll be enough for a start."

"Oh, Aunt Rebecca, thank you!" exclaimed Jane Lavinia, crimson with