Rebecca Mary
Book Excerpt
"Hundred and one!" Rebecca Mary cried out, clearly, courage born within her at the crucial instant. The Time--the Time--had come. She had taken her last stitch.
"It's over," she panted. "It always was a-coming, and it's come. I knew it would. When it's come, you don't feel quite so scared. I'm glad it's over."
She folded up the great sheet carefully, making all the edges meet with painful precision. It took time. She had left the needle sticking in the unfinished seam--in the hundred-and-oneth stitch-- and close beside it was a tiny dot of red to "keep the place."
"Rebecca! Rebecca Mary!" Aunt Olivia always called like that. If there had been still another name--Rebecca Mary Something Else-- she would have called: "Rebecca! Rebecca Mary! Rebecca Mary Something Else!"
"Yes'm; I'm here."
"Where's 'here'?" sharply.
"HERE--the grape-arbor, I mean."
"Have you got your sheet?"