But for a long time Sara went about the humble home with a humbler
heart. She felt that she had been a traitor to her Kingly Father, and
took the pretty little white cross madame had sent her and pinned it up,
face inwards, against the wall.
"I am not worthy to wear it," she said, "until I have done something to
atone for my rebellion."
But the winter passed quietly away; and, if no opportunity offered for
any great deed of atonement, there were always the little worries of
every day to be patiently borne, not the least of which was a sort of
nagging spirit which had gone abroad among the old neighbors and friends
of the Olmstead family. Possibly they were a trifle jealous of Sara's
looks and bearing; it may be those who had predicted failure for her,
"because them as keeps so stiddy to books ain't apt to hev much sense at
things what caounts," were disappointed that she succeeded so well,
or,--let us be charitable,--perhaps they thought the children all needed
a little maternal scolding on general principles; anyhow, whatever they
thought, there was something unpleasant in the air.
Sara felt it keenly, and drew still farther into her shell of reticence,
keeping closely to her studies and home duties, until the neighbors had
some excuse for their plaints that "she didn't care for nothin' nor
nobody but them pesky books!"
One day Mrs.
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