a wave of soft pink dyed her face and flowed upward redly to her hair.

"Well!" Duty jibed, mocking her.

"Don't say a word!" cried poor Aunt Olivia. "I'll put her right back."

"What good will that do?"

"I'll lock her in."

"You've locked her in before."

"I'll--I'll hide the key."

"Where you can find it! Think again."

Aunt Olivia thrust the doll back into its coffin with unsteady hands. The red in her face had faded to a faint, abiding pink. She locked
the drawer and drew out the key. She strode to the window and flung
it out with a wide sweep of her arm.

The minister's wife, ignorant of the results of her kind little
experiment, resolved to question Rebecca Mary the next time she
came on an errand. She would do it with extreme caution.

"I'll just feel round," she said. "I want to know if her aunt's given
it to her. You think she must have, don't you, Robert? By this time? Why, it was six weeks ago I carried it over! It was such a nice, friendly little doll! By this time they would be such friends--
if her aunt gave it to her. Robert, you think--"

"I think it's going to rain," the minister said. But he kissed her
to make it easier.