There she is, over an hour late; a littlemore an' she'd 'a' been caught in a thundershower, but she'd never look ahead,"said Miranda to Jane; "and added to all her otheriniquities, if she ain't rigged out in that new dress,steppin' along with her father's dancin'-school steps,and swingin' her parasol for all the world as if shewas play-actin'. Now I'm the oldest, Jane, an' Iintend to have my say out; if you don't like it youcan go into the kitchen till it's over. Step rightin here, Rebecca; I want to talk to you. What didyou put on that good new dress for, on a schoolday, without permission?""I had intended to ask you at noontime, but youweren't at home, so I couldn't," began Rebecca.
"You did no such a thing; you put it on becauseyou was left alone, though you knew well enoughI wouldn't have let you.""If I'd been CERTAIN you wouldn't have let meI'd never have done it," said Rebecca, trying tobe truthful; "but I wasn't CERTAIN, and it was worthrisking. I thought perhaps you might, if you knewit was almost a real exhibition at school.""Exhibition!" exclaimed Miranda scornfully;"you are exhibition enough by yourself, I shouldsay. Was you exhibitin' your parasol?""The parasol WAS silly," confessed Rebecca,hanging her head; "but it's the only time in mywhole life when I had anything to match it, andit looked so beautiful with the pink dress! EmmaJane and I spoke a dialogue about a city girl anda country girl, and it came to me just the minutebefore I started how nice it would come in for thecity girl; and it did. I haven't hurt my dress amite, aunt Mirandy.""It's the craftiness and underhandedness ofyour actions that's the worst," said Mirandacoldly. "And look at the other things you'vedone! It seems as if Satan possessed you! Youwent up the front stairs to your room, but youdidn't hide your tracks, for you dropped yourhandkerchief on the way up. You left the screenout of your bedroom window for the flies to comein all over the house. You never cleared awayyour lunch nor set away a dish, AND YOU LEFT THESIDE DOOR UNLOCKED from half past twelve to threeo'clock, so 't anybody could 'a' come in and stolenwhat they liked!"Rebecca sat down heavily in her chair as sheheard the list of her transgressions. How couldshe have been so careless? The tears began toflow now as she attempted to explain sins thatnever could be explained or justified.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she faltered. "I was trimmingthe schoolroom, and got belated, and ran allthe way home. It was hard getting into my dressalone, and I hadn't time to eat but a mouthful,and just at the last minute, when I honestly--HONESTLY--would have thought about clearing awayand locking up, I looked at the clock and knew Icould hardly get back to school in time to form inthe line; and I thought how dreadful it would beto go in late and get my first black mark on a Fridayafternoon, with the minister's wife and thedoctor's wife and the school committee all there!""Don't wail and carry on now; it's no goodcryin' over spilt milk," answered Miranda. "Anounce of good behavior is worth a pound of repentance.
Instead of tryin' to see how little troubleyou can make in a house that ain't your own home,it seems as if you tried to see how much you couldput us out. Take that rose out o' your dress andlet me see the spot it's made on your yoke, an' therusty holes where the wet pin went in. No, it ain't;but it's more by luck than forethought. I ain't gotany patience with your flowers and frizzled-out hairand furbelows an' airs an' graces, for all the worldlike your Miss-Nancy father."Rebecca lifted her head in a flash. "Look here,aunt Mirandy, I'll be as good as I know how to be.
I'll mind quick when I'm spoken to and neverleave the door unlocked again, but I won't havemy father called names. He was a p-perfectlyl-lovely father, that's what he was, and it's MEANto call him Miss Nancy!""Don't you dare answer me back that imperdentway, Rebecca, tellin' me I'm mean; your fatherwas a vain, foolish, shiftless man, an' you might aswell hear it from me as anybody else; he spentyour mother's money and left her with seven childrento provide for.""It's s-something to leave s-seven nicechildren," sobbed Rebecca.
"Not when other folks have to help feed, clothe,and educate 'em," responded Miranda. "Now youstep upstairs, put on your nightgown, go to bed,and stay there till to-morrow mornin'. You'll finda bowl o' crackers an' milk on your bureau, an' Idon't want to hear a sound from you till breakfasttime. Jane, run an' take the dish towels off theline and shut the shed doors; we're goin' to havea turrible shower.""We've had it, I should think," said Janequietly, as she went to do her sister's bidding.
"I don't often speak my mind, Mirandy; but youought not to have said what you did about Lorenzo.
He was what he was, and can't be madeany different; but he was Rebecca's father, andAurelia always says he was a good husband."Miranda had never heard the proverbial phraseabout the only "good Indian," but her mind workedin the conventional manner when she said grimly,"Yes, I've noticed that dead husbands are usuallygood ones; but the truth needs an airin' now andthen, and that child will never amount to a hill o'
beans till she gets some of her father trounced outof her. I'm glad I said just what I did.""I daresay you are," remarked Jane, with whatmight be described as one of her annual bursts ofcourage; "but all the same, Mirandy, it wasn'tgood manners, and it wasn't good religion!"The clap of thunder that shook the house just atthat moment made no such peal in Miranda Sawyer'sears as Jane's remark made when it fell witha deafening roar on her conscience.
Perhaps after all it is just as well to speak onlyonce a year and then speak to the purpose.
Rebecca mounted the back stairs wearily, closedthe door of her bedroom, and took off the belovedpink gingham with trembling fingers. Her cottonhandkerchief was rolled into a hard ball, and in theintervals of reaching the more difficult buttons thatlay between her shoulder blades and her belt, shedabbed her wet eyes carefully, so that they shouldnot rain salt water............