"Look here," said Matilda. "Comfort, your mother wouldn't let you buy
another ring with that gold dollar, would she?"

"That gold dollar's to keep," sobbed Comfort; "it ain't to spend."
And, indeed, she felt as if spending that gold dollar would be almost
as bad as losing the ring; the bare idea of it horrified her.

"Well, I didn't s'pose it was," said Matilda, abashedly. "I just
happened to think of it." Suddenly she gave Comfort a little poke
with her red-mittened hand. "Don't you cry another minute, Comfort
Pease," she cried. "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll ask my Uncle
Jared to give me a gold dollar, and then I'll give it to you to buy a
gold ring."

"I don't believe he will," sobbed Comfort.

"Yes, he will. He always gives me everything I ask him for. He thinks
more of me than he does of Rosy and Imogen, you know, 'cause he was
going to get married once, when he was young, and she died, and I
look like her."

"Were you named after her?" inquired Comfort.

"No; her name was Ann Maria; but I look like her. Uncle Jared will
give me a gold dollar, and I'll ask him to take us to Bolton in his
sleigh Saturday afternoon, and then you can buy another ring. Don't
you cry another mite, Comfort Pease."

And poor Comfort tried to keep the tears back as the bell began to
ring, and she and Matilda hastened to the school-house.