"No!" Rebecca shook her curls. "Because she was so good, God saved her from telling a lie and her basket was filled with beautiful red roses. And when her husband saw how much God thought of her, he became good, too, and tried to help Elizabeth care for all the poor people in the country." "She must have been very rich to help so many poor people," observed Joseph. "Oh, she was a real princess and I guess all princesses have plenty of money," answered his sister easily. "Then you can be just like her, if you want to," the admiring Matilda assured her. "Your papa's one of the richest men in Philadelphia, I guess, and you're beautiful like Elizabeth and with that long veil and those pearls you look just like a real princess this minute, doesn't she, Rachel?" "Let's play the princess in the tower?" cried Joseph, springing up, already weary of the game. "Becky, you get on top of that trunk and we'll put chairs around it and play it's a high tower and Jacob and I will be princes and come and rescue you and take you away on our horses--the way they did in the fairy book you read us the other day." "But what'll we be?" cried Rachel and Matilda together. "You can be her ladies-in-waiting or something," Joseph decided, "and Benjamin can be our page and hold our horses while we climb into the tower." He straddled one of the fencing foils and pranced across the room. "A rescue!" he called shrilly to his brothers, "a rescue for the lovely Princess Rebecca." Hyman Gratz, Rebecca's sixteen-year-old brother, entering the room at that moment, smiled at their sport. Swinging Benjamin to his shoulder he advanced toward the tower which sheltered the three lovely ladies and pulled Rebecca's face down to his for a kiss. "Having a happy birthday?" he asked. "Just splendid." Rebecca's eyes danced with happiness. "We're playing the princess in the tower and I'm the princess." Hyman, his face suddenly grave, looked over the happy, dancing figures in their fantastic dresses. Although he did not know why, he wished at that moment that the children playing in the old attic need never grow up, but might always be carefree and laughing in their idle games. His eyes lingered longest on Rebecca, such a dainty little princess in her yellow silk and pearls and he sighted a little. But all he said was: "If I were you youngsters, I'd play in the garden. The rain's all over and there's a fine rainbow just behind the old chestnut tree." * * * * *