“I guess I was twice as horrid as you were, if it comes to that, Erica,” she admitted. “Maybe none of you can quite understand how I feel about—about being dependent on anyone not my own mother or father, even when they make me welcome as generously as Cousin Callie did. Mother was the same way, too—I guess she gave me my love of independence. After my father died—Barbee was only a wee baby then—mother wouldn’t accept help from anyone, except a little bit from her brother—the one who brought Barbee and me here last Christmas, you know. She took in sewing; first for neighbors and friends, and later for quite a number of outside customers. That’s how I learned to sew. She taught me to help her, as I grew older, but she never would let it interfere with my going to school. In the afternoons and evenings, though, we sat and worked together—” Milly turned her head away abruptly, but not before Erica had seen the glitter of tears on her long lashes. Mrs. Folger’s eyes were wet, too, as she gazed down at the gold piece Milly had pressed into her hand. “Dear child, I understand and honor the feeling that prompted you,” she said, softly. “However, this is too much for you to give me. If you insist on paying something—if you will really feel happier that way—let us divide this. Half for me, and half for you to put away. If you can make some extra money now and then, and feel you want to do it, I have nothing to say against it. But part of all you earn must be saved for the future. You may need money for something important one day, my dear.” “Some day,” Milly flashed, eagerly, “I want to have a big, very select dressmaking establishment in Boston or—or maybe even _New_ _York_. With lots of girls under me, and fine ladies coming to me to have beautiful silks and velvets and satins made up. If you really won’t take all I can earn, Cousin Callie, I’ll put the rest away for that. Oh, it won’t be for years and _years_, of course,” she wound up, faltering a little in confusion at having so impulsively revealed her daring ambition. “But—well, wonderful things do happen if you stick at working and hoping,” she said, half defiantly. “And then I could take care of Barbee myself, and make a home for her.” Eighty years ago, ten dollars had a purchasing power several times that of its present value, so it was no wonder that both Lis and Erica looked with respect at the glittering gold piece in Mrs. Folger’s hand. Particularly on Nantucket, where life was simple and wants few, did it represent a quite amazing achievement on the part of a fifteen-year-old girl. “I don’t see how you ever thought of it, or stuck at it so patiently afterward,” Erica said in quite an awed voice. Both Mrs. Folger and Lis laughed at that, for Erica’s clumsiness with her needle, and her rebellious dislike of all kinds of sewing and knitting, were a family joke—besides being a real trial to both her aunts.