days!"

"They all do," sighed the minister. "It's human nature, dear.
You'll be telling me next that there's something the matter with
Rhoda's--legs."

The minister's wife gazed thoughtfully ahead at a little trio
fast approaching the vanishing point. Her eyes grew a little
wistful.

"There is now, perhaps, but I haven't noticed--I won't look!" she
murmured. "And, anyway, Robert, Rhoda will give us a little time
to get used to it in. But Rebecca Mary isn't the Rhoda kind--I
don't believe Rebecca Mary will give us even three days of
grace!"

"I always supposed Rebecca Mary was born that way--grown up," the
minister remarked, tucking a gloved hand comfortably close under
his arm. "I wouldn't let it worry me, dear."

"Oh, I don't--not worry, really," she said, smiling--"only her
legs startled me a little today. If she were mine, I should let
her dresses down."

"If she were Rhod--"

"She isn't, she's Rebecca Mary. Probably if I were Miss Olivia I
would let Rhoda's down!" And she knew she would.

Rebecca Mary on the woodshed floor sat and thought "deep-down"