t of the group under the elm
trees, until she could not be seen from the house. Then she caught a
glimpse of Lucia's yellow dress, and ran faster than before. But she did
not call Lucia's name. She said to herself that she would never speak to
Lucia again.

Hearing the hurrying steps behind her Lucia looked over her shoulder,
and seeing Rebby she became frightened and ran faster than ever. Lucia
did not know why she was afraid, but she remembered that she had not
been asked to the party, that she had spoken insultingly to Rebby,
and--she had dropped the mug purposely. So it was small wonder that her
guilty conscience accused her, and that she was eager to reach home
before Rebby could overtake her.

On raced the two girls along the narrow path. A few men at the wharves
watched the flying figures, but no one imagined it more than a game.
Very soon the Horton house was in sight. Its front door opening on the
street stood open to admit the pleasant spring air. In a moment Lucia
was in the house and had slammed and fastened the door behind her.

Rebby stood on the step breathless, the silk mitts clasped in her hand.
After a moment she rapped loudly on the door. There was no response. But
in a moment an upper window opened, and Mrs. Horton looked down at
Rebby.

"Why, Rebecca Flora!" she exclaimed in her pleasant voice. "Lucia has
gone to your party."

"If you please, Mrs. Horton, I have brought back the mitts Lucia gave me
for a birthday present," responded Rebby, her voice faltering a little.

"Oh! Don't they fit? Why, that is a shame. Well, lay them on the step,"
said Mrs. Horton, wondering why Rebby should look so flushed and warm,
and why she had not given the mitts to Lucia. Later on, when she heard
Lucia's account of Rebby's turning honey and water over the pretty
yellow muslin, she decided that Rebecca was ashamed to keep a gift after
treating Lucia so badly.

Rebby went slowly toward home tired and unhappy. All the pleasure of
the party, she said to herself, was spoiled. She was not sorry to give
up the mitts, for everything that reminded her of Lucia made her think
of the night when they had pushed the liberty tree from its moorings.

When she was nearly home she heard Mr. Foster's whistle and in a moment
they were face to face.

"Well, Rebecca Flora, 'twas a fine party," he said smilingly, for Mr.
Foster had not seen the accident to the mug. "The neighbors are all
smiling and cheerful, and we are all th