Happie turned to Gretta with her whole heart in her face.
"It was death," she whispered; she could not summon her voice. "I can never thank you."
"I only held her up," said Gretta.
Then the color rushed up over her blanched face in a wave of joy.
"I'm glad if I can pay some of my debt," she said.
The great wagon, so heavily laden with its towering hay and grateful hearts, rolled slowly down the road. Thanks to Gretta, it was still carrying only glad young folk on a hay ride. But how nearly it had been dear little Polly's funeral car!
[CHAPTER XII]
LAURA'S PHILANTHROPY
"I wish you and Gretta had not forgotten my pup," said Miss Bradbury coming into the dining-room the morning after the departure of Margery. "I still hear queer noises at night. I'm going to send down to town for a good dog. Jake Shale has offered me a beagle, and Peter Kuntz assures me the one thing on earth I need is his old dog, half shepherd and seven-eighths cur, but I'm not convinced."