Hannah was darning stockings, and she threaded her needle and snipped off the yarn before she answered, "No, thank you, Becky. Mother could n't do without me, and I hate going to school. I can read and write and cipher as well as anybody now, and that 's enough for me. I 'd die rather than teach school for a living. The winter 'll go fast, for Will Melville is going to lend me his mother's sewing machine, and I 'm going to make white petticoats out of the piece of muslin aunt Jane sent, and have 'em just solid with tucks. Then there 's going to be a singing-school and a social circle in Temperance after New Year's, and I shall have a real good time now I 'm grown up. I 'm not one to be lonesome, Becky," Hannah ended with a blush; "I love this place."
Rebecca saw that she was speaking the truth, but she did not understand the blush till a year or two later.