Then Angie's part in this drama of her life now returned to Chip in a new light. Once she began to reflect, her self-accusation grew apace and her repentance as well. Now she began to see herself as she was at Tim's Place.
"I think I treated my Greenvale friends very ungratefully," she said to Aunt Abby one evening after they had returned to Christmas Cove once more, "and what Mrs. Frisbie said to me has made me realize it. I know now that few would have done what she did for me. I was an ignorant, dirty, homeless creature and no relation of hers, and yet she took charge of me, bought me clothes, paid all my expenses going to Greenvale, clothed me there, and always treated me nicely without my even asking for it.
"The Frisbies certainly ran some risk by keeping me at their cabin when they knew that half-breed was after me. I don't know why they should have done all this. I was nothing to them. And yet when I recall the night I stumbled into their camp, how Mrs. Frisbie dressed me in her own clothes, shared her tent with me, and even prayed for me, I feel ashamed to think of what I have done. I did think that Mrs. Frisbie despised me from what Hannah said. I know now that I was wrong, and running away as I did, was very ungrateful."
"I think it was, myself," responded Aunt Abby, "and yet believing as you did, Mrs. Frisbie ought not to blame you. I don't think she does, either. She seems a very sensible woman, and I like her. You made your mistake in not confiding in her more. You should have gone to her as you would to a mother, in the first place, and told her just what Hannah had said to you and how you felt about it. To brood over such matters and imagine the worst possible, is unwise in any one. I think from what you have told me, that this person who sneered against you so much must have had a spite against you."
"Hannah was jealous, I know," Chip interrupted, smiling at the recollection, "and I hurt her feelings because I asked her why she didn't shave."
"Didn't shave!" exclaimed Aunt Abby, wide-eyed, "what do you mean?"
"Why, she has whiskers, you see," laughed Chip, "almost as much as some men--a nice little mustache and some on her chin. I told her the next day after I got there I thought she was a man dressed as a woman. I snickered, too, I remember, when I said it, for she looked so comical--like a goat, almost--and then I asked her why she didn't shave. I guess she laid it up against me ever after."