“Jenny was very sick and I couldn’t leave her, and then the mill took fire and burnt to the ground.”
“Mark Small’s mill burnt. You don’t mean it. Why, it will ruin him,” gasped Aunt Hulda.
“Yes, I’m afraid he’s lost everything.”
“Oh dear, dear, dear! It’s the Lord’s doin’s and I ’spose we must be resigned,” cried Aunt Hulda. “And Mark Small’s lost everything,” and she sat down and rocked briskly, wringing her hands.
“Why, Aunt Hulda, what ails you? You’ll lose nothing. Come, give me my dinner, I’m as hungry as a bear. I can’t wait; come along,” and Becky seized Aunt Hulda by main force and dragged her to the kitchen. Not a word about her adventure to Aunt Hulda, not a word to her mother on her return. They were left in ignorance until Teddy puffing with haste burst into the room. He ran at Becky and seized her in his arms.
“It’s all over town. I tell you, everybody’s talking about you. You’re a heroine, Becky, and I’m your brother.”
“What on airth ails the boy?” shrieked Aunt Hulda. “Is he mad? What’s Becky done now?”
“What has she done, Aunt Hulda? She dragged Jenny York up on the roof, tore up the bags and let her down to the ground, when the building was blazing like fury. D’ye hear that, mother? Our Becky did it. Ain’t you proud of her? I am.”
Becky freed herself from Teddy’s embrace, wondering what could have started him to such a proceeding, he always so cool and undemonstrative. She looked at her mother. The face of the invalid was flushed, the lips moved yet no words escaped them, but in the eyes Becky read the rich reward, “Well done, daughter.” She ran to her mother’s side and put her arms about her neck.