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Updated: June 28, 2025
Of course she would not put anything heavy, like hair brushes and shoes and things, on top of anything unless it was the nightgowns, for it doesn't hurt "Oh, Olivicia oh, Olivicia, how I hope she'll say, 'Rebecca Mary, you may pack the valise'! I could do it with my eyes shut, I've done it so many, many times!" But Aunt Olivia did not say it.
In her need for somebody to lean on, her startled gaze sought the beautiful being across the room in agonized appeal. But Olivicia was staring smilingly at Aunt Olivia. If Rebecca Mary had noticed, there was an appealing, wistful look in Aunt Olivia's eyes too, in odd contrast to the firm lips that moved steadily on with their lesson: "You can walk to school with Rhoda, you'll enjoy that.
The valise and the little carpetbag she carried downstairs and out on to the front steps. Her face was whitened as if by a long night's vigil. When she called Rebecca Mary it was with a voice strained hoarse. The beautiful being Olivicia watched her with intent, unwinking gaze. Could it be Olivicia understood?
Many of the times she came out very shortly with the child's "best" things trailing from her arms, but once or twice she stayed rather long long enough to stand beside a little white bed and look down on a flushed little face. A pair of wide-open eyes watched her smilingly from the pillows, but they were not Rebecca Mary's eyes, and Olivicia was altogether trustworthy.
"Olivicia!" she called in a tender whisper, "I shall be right here nights. We shan't be far away from each other." But it would not be like lying in each other's arms oh, not at all like that. Rebecca Mary caught her breath; it was perilously like a sob. Then she girded up her loins and went away to meet her fate the common fate of all. She was very tired.
"There, there the-re!" crooned Rebecca Mary, softly, brooding over the beautiful being. "You'll rest there sweetly after your mother is grown up. And you'll try not to miss her, won't you? You'll understand, Olivicia? oh, Olivicia!" But she did not cry. Her eyes were very bright.
But they keep right on growing they're awful, dear! I can't stop 'em. Olivicia, lie right there and be thankful you're a doll! But I wish you could open your eyes and look at me just once more." Rebecca Mary shut the drawer gently. It was over no, she would say one thing more to the beautiful being in there. She bent to the keyhole.
"Will you take sugar in your tea, Olivicia?" Rebecca Mary asked, shyly. She sat on the ground with her legs drawn under her out of sight, but there were little warm spots in her cheeks. She had not expected to be ashamed. If there had been a knothole anywhere, she thought to herself, the Thought of Growing Up would have come out of it and confronted her and reminded her of her legs.
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