Pollyanna. "We can't have anybody—now, you know. I'm going to do the work. Until we know just how things are, we shall live very economically, Aunt Polly says."
"Ho! as if I'd take money from—" began Nancy, in bridling wrath; but at the expression on the other's face she stopped, and let her words dwindle off in a mumbling protest, as she hurried from the room to look after her creamed chicken on the stove.
Not until supper was over, and everything put in order, did Mrs. Timothy Durgin consent to drive away with her husband; then she went with evident reluctance, and with many pleadings to be allowed to come "just ter help out a bit" at any time.
After Nancy had gone, Pollyanna came into the living-room where Mrs. Chilton was sitting alone, her hand over her eyes.
"Well, dearie, shall I light up?" suggested Pollyanna, brightly.
"Oh, I suppose so."
"Wasn't Nancy a dear to fix us all up so nice?"
No answer.
"Where in the world she found all these flowers I can't imagine. She has them in every room down here, and in both bedrooms, too."
Still no answer.
Pollyanna gave a half-stifled sigh and threw a wistful glance into her aunt's averted face. After a moment she began again hopefully.
"I saw Old Tom in the garden. Poor man, his
