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Page 6
Miss Polly rose with frowning face and closely-shut lips. She was
glad, of course, that she was a good woman, and that she not only
knew her duty, but had sufficient strength of character to
perform it. But--POLLYANNA!--what a ridiculous name!
CHAPTER II. OLD TOM AND NANCY
In the little attic room Nancy swept and scrubbed vigorously,
paying particular attention to the corners. There were times,
indeed, when the vigor she put into her work was more of a relief
to her feelings than it was an ardor to efface dirt--Nancy, in
spite of her frightened submission to her mistress, was no saint.
"I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!"
she muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs
of her pointed cleaning-stick. "There's plenty of 'em needs
cleanin' all right, all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed
child 'way off up here in this hot little room--with no fire in
the winter, too, and all this big house ter pick and choose from!
Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!" snapped Nancy, wringing her
rag so hard her fingers ached from the strain; "I guess it ain't
CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now, just now!"
For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she
looked about the bare little room in plain disgust.
"Well, it's done--my part, anyhow," she sighed. "There ain't no
dirt here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a
pretty place this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!"
she finished, going out and closing the door with a bang, "Oh!"
she ejaculated, biting her lip. Then, doggedly: "Well, I don't
care. I hope she did hear the bang,--I do, I do!"
In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which
to interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the
paths about the place for uncounted years.
"Mr. Tom," began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder
to make sure she was unobserved; "did you know a little girl was
comin' here ter live with Miss Polly?"
"A--what?" demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
difficulty.
"A little girl--to live with Miss Polly."
"Go on with yer jokin'," scoffed unbelieving Tom. "Why don't ye
tell me the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?"
"But it's true. She told me so herself," maintained Nancy. "It's
her niece; and she's eleven years old."
The man's jaw fell.
"Sho!--I wonder, now," he muttered; then a tender light came into
his faded eyes. "It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little
gal! There wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it
must be Miss Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think
of my old eyes a-seein' this!"
"Who was Miss Jennie?"
"She was an angel straight out of Heaven," breathed the man,
fervently; "but the old master and missus knew her as their
oldest daughter. She was twenty when she married and went away
from here long years ago. Her babies all died, I heard, except
the last one; and that must be the one what's a-comin'."
"She's eleven years old."
"Yes, she might be," nodded the old man.
"And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!"
scolded Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the
house behind her.
Old Tom frowned. The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
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