"What did you do at home?" she demanded with harsh abruptness. "N--nothing," Elizabeth answered with a miserable gulp. "You did too! Of course you did something," Olga flamed. "You didn't sit and stare at Molly and the others all day the way you stare at me, did you? _What_ did you do, I say?" Elizabeth gave her a swift scared glance as she stammered, "I didn't do anything but cook and sweep and wash and iron and take care of the children--truly I didn't." Olga's face brightened. "Good heavens--if you aren't the limit!" she shrugged. Then she sprang up and got pencil and paper. "What can you cook?" she demanded, and proceeded to put Elizabeth through a rapid-fire examination on marketing, plain cooking, washing, ironing, sweeping, bed-making, and care of babies. At last she had found some things that even the Poor Thing could do. With flying fingers she scribbled down the girl's answers. Finally she cried excitingly, "_There!_ See what a goose you were to say you couldn't do anything! Why, there are lots of girls here who couldn't do half these things. Elizabeth Page, listen. You've got twelve orange beads like those," she pointed to the necklace--"already, for a beginning. That's more than I have of that colour. I don't know anything about taking care of babies, nor half what you do about cooking and marketing." Elizabeth stared, her mouth half open, her eyes widened in incredulous wonder. "But--but," she faltered, "I guess there's some mistake. Just housework and things like that ain't anything to get beads for--are they?" "They are _that_! I tell you Mrs. Royall will give you twelve honours and twelve yellow beads at the next Council Fire, and if you half try you can win some blue and brown and red ones too before that, and you've just _got to do it_. Do you understand?" The other nodded, her eyes full of dumb misery. Then she began to whimper, "I--I--can't ever do things like you and the rest do," she moaned. "Why not? You can walk, can't you?" "W--walk?" "Yes--_walk_! Didn't hurt you to walk to the village yesterday, did it?" "No--but I couldn't go--alone." "Who said anything about going alone? You'll walk to Slabtown and back with me to-morrow." "O, I'd like that--with you," said the Poor Thing, brightening. Olga gave an impatient sniff. Sometimes she almost hated Elizabeth--almost but not quite. "You'll go with me to-morrow," she declared, "but next day you'll go with some other girl." Elizabeth shrank into herself, shaking her head. Olga eyed her sternly. "Very well--if you won't go with some other girl, you can't go with me to-morrow," she declared. But the next day after breakfast the two set off for Slabtown. Halfway there, Elizabeth suddenly crumpled up and dropped in a limp heap by the roadside. "What's the matter?" Olga demanded, standing over her. Elizabeth lifted tired eyes. "I don't know. You walked so--fast," she panted.