For a moment the two little friends walked on in silence, and then Anna spoke.
“Luretta, I’ll tell you something. I am going to try to be exactly like Melvina Lyon. Everybody praises her, and your mother and mine are always saying that she is well-behaved. And I am going to let my hair grow long and be well-behaved. But don’t tell anyone,” Anna added quickly, “for I want Mrs. Lyon to find it out first of all.”
“Oh, Dan! And won’t you make funny rhymes any more? Or play on the timber-rafts—or—or—anything?” asked Luretta.
“I don’t believe there is any harm in making rhymes. It’s something you can’t help,” responded Anna thoughtfully. “And Parson Lyon has written a book,” she added quickly, as if that in some way justified her jingles.
“I don’t want you to be different, Dan!” declared Luretta.
Anna stopped and looked at her friend reproachfully. “Well, Luretta Foster, I am surprised!” she said, and then clasping Luretta’s hand she started to run down the path, saying: “Let’s hurry, so I can take off this dress; then we will walk a little way toward the forest to see if Father and Paul are coming. Will you truly; give me the rabbit if Paul captures one?”
“Yes, I will,” promised Luretta; but she began to wish that she had not suggested such a thing. If Danna was going to be exactly like Melvina Lyon, thought Luretta, a rabbit would not receive much attention.
Rebecca was sitting on the front step busy with her knitting as the two little girls came up the path. It was her birthday, but so far no one had seemed to remember it. The Polly had not reached port, so the fine present she had been promised could not be expected. But Rebecca was surprised and disappointed that everyone had seemed to forget that she was fourteen on the tenth of May. But as she looked up and saw Anna dressed in her best, and Luretta beside her, coming up the path, Rebby’s face brightened. “I do believe Mother has planned a surprise for me,” she thought happily. “Oh, there comes Lucia! Now I am sure that Mother has asked her to come, and perhaps some of the other girls,” and Rebecca put down her knitting and stood up, smiling at the girls expectantly, for she was quite sure that their first words would be a birthday greeting.
At that moment Mrs. Weston, busy in her kitchen, remembered suddenly that it was September tenth. “My Rebby’s birthday! And, with my mind full of all the worry about being shut off from the world by British cruisers, and provisions growing so scarce, I had forgotten,” and Mrs. Weston left her work and reached the front door just as Rebecca rose to her feet to greet her friends.
“Fourteen to-day, Rebby dear,” said Mrs. Weston, putting her arm about her tall daughter and kissing Rebecca.