“So B’lindy took care of the little girl,”—Polly glanced over with a smile at “sister’s” meek face,—“an’ I had the wust, ’cause I had to drive, an’ I had that boy. Well, an’ we went fust of all to the shoe-shop. I was a-comin’ here with the jell fust, but then I thought, bein’ you said you warn’t”—
“Oh! I didn’t need the jelly,” said Polly hastily; “thank you for going to Mr. Beebe’s first.”
“An’ I jest let the childern out, of course, as I s’posed ’twas their home, an’ that’s all I know, ’cept that old Mis’ Beebe run in to Simons’s with an apun over her head,—we was tradin’, gettin’ some new calikers, you know,” said Miss Sally in an important way, “an’”—
“She asked you to let us know, did she?” asked Phronsie.
“Yes, she did; an’ then I told her I was the one that brung them childern to her shop, an’ then we heard a squeal, an’ that boy there,” pointing her long finger at Elyot, “come runnin’ in the shop, an’ said he’d come to bid old Mis’ Beebe good-by, and the little girl come along too, an’ he said they’d sent for ’em to come home right away, an’ he was a-comin’ again some time—but I know one thing, an’ that is, that I won’t bring him.”
“Sally, Sally,” ventured Miss Belinda in a shocked tone.
“Dear Miss Scrannage,” cried Polly, rushing out of her seat, and clinging to Barby, while Elyot dragged after, clutching her gown, “and dear Miss Belinda, you don’t know how grateful I am to you for all your lovely care of my little ones. I wish—oh, how I wish my husband was home to thank you too! Oh! we never can repay you.” She took their withered and hard hands in her soft, warm ones.
“And I’d like to kiss you,” said Barby, putting up her rosy lips, “anyway her—I would like to kiss her,” pointing to Miss Belinda, who was blushing like a winter apple, and beaming at her.
“No, we never can repay you,” repeated Polly out of a full heart.
Miss Sally received all this with the greatest satisfaction, but her cup of happiness was quite full when Grandpapa got deliberately out of his chair and advanced to her.