Ruth was in Rebecca's room one dingy, rainy afternoon, having skipped gymnasium work of all kind for the day. The proprietor of the room had finished her baby blue cap and had worn it the first time that week.
"I feel that they are not all staring at me now," she confessed to Ruth.
Ruth was at the piles of old papers which Rebecca had hidden under a half-worn portierre she had brought from home.
"Do you know," the girl of the Red Mill said reflectively, "these old things are awfully interesting, Becky?"
"What old things?"
"These papers. I've opened one bundle. They were all printed in Richmond during the Civil War. Why, paper must have been awfully scarce then. Some of these are actually printed on wrapping paper—you can scarcely read the print."
"Ought to look at those Charleston papers," said Rebecca, carelessly. "There are full files of those, too, I believe. Why, some of them are printed on wall paper."
"No!"
"Yes they are. Ridiculous, wasn't it?"
Ruth sat silent for a while. Finally she asked: