"A sharp one!" the saleswoman had called her, the other agreeing; and when the next day, which was also a rainy day, the little company gathered in the lunch-room again, and Lizzie brought forth a variety of pretty papers, there was a general watchfulness to see how much Becky knew, and what she would claim. Two other of the parcel-girls were now present. They had heard all about the basket-making plan of yesterday, and pushed forward with great interest. Becky looked at them with mischief in her eyes, but made no movement to join Lizzie.
"Come," said the older of the two, "why don't you begin, Becky? Lizzie's waitin', and so are we."
"What yer waitin' for?" asked Becky, with an impudent grin.
"To see how you make the baskets."
"Well, yer'll hev to wait."
"Why, you told Lizzie you'd show her how to make baskets out o' paper!"
"But I didn' say I'se goin' to show anybody else. This ain't a free kinnergarden. These are private lessons."
A shriek of laughter went up at this, while somebody cried,—
"And private lessons must be paid for, mustn't they, Becky?"
"Every time," answered Becky, with unruffled coolness.