Afar off Aunt Olivia heard faintly the shoutings that always heralded
an approach to the Tony Trumbullses, and shuddered. The tumult kept
growing clearer; she thought she detected a wild, excited little
shout that might be Rebecca Mary's. Her thin lips set into a stern,
straight line.

A splash of red caught Aunt Olivia's eye as she drew nearer the
joyous whirl of little children. Rebecca Mary wore a little tight
red dress. The coil seemed closing in about the child.

Close to the southern boundary fence of Aunt Olivia's land stood
an old empty barn. It had been a place for storing surplus hay,
once, when there had been surplus hay. For many years now it had
been empty. As Aunt Olivia approached it she noticed that its great
sliding door was open. Strange, when for so long it had been shut!

"If that old barn door ain't open!" breathed Aunt Olivia, stopping
in her astonishment. "I ain't seen it open before in these ten years.
Now, what I want to know is, who opened it? Likely as not those
screeching little wild Injuns." She strode across the stubby grass-
ground to the barn and peered into its cool, dim depths. Then Aunt
Olivia uttered a little, bewildered cry. Gradually the dimness took
on light and the whole startling picture within unfolded itself to
her astonished eyes.

Rebecca Mary was quilting. She was stooping earnestly over a gay
expanse of purples and reds and greens. Her little tight red back
was towards Aunt Olivia; it looked bent and strained. Rebecca Mary's
eyes were very close to the gay expanse.