“Now, Mary, you and I will have our little talk,” said Miss Pomeroy, a few minutes later, and then to Polly’s great amazement, she sat down in one of the big piazza chairs, and drew the child into her lap.
“I didn’t mean to forget that top-button,” said Polly, bravely, “but you came downstairs sooner than I expected, and I can’t quite reach it, so I was going to ask Miss Arctura to fasten it for me. I’m sorry I was an untidy girl; ’tisn’t Mrs. Manser’s fault; she spoke to me and spoke to me about my careless habits.”
“I’ve no doubt she did,” said Miss Hetty, dryly; “I presume she’d speak to me about my placket-hook that’s generally undone.” As she said this she buttoned Polly’s apron and gave her a pat which warmed the little girl’s heart; and then Miss Hetty held her in such a way that Polly could not see the kind, grave face.
“Now, my dear,” she said, slowly, “I suppose Mrs. Manser may have told you that I had a little niece of whom you remind me.” Polly nodded her head, and scarcely breathed. “I asked Mrs. Manser to let me have you for at least a month,” said Miss Pomeroy, unsteadily, “to see—to see if perhaps we might decide to be together as long as I live, my dear. If you are as like my little Eleanor as I think you may be, in many ways,” said Miss Hetty, after a pause during which Polly sat very still, “I shall not be able to let you go, I am sure. I’m growing old, Mary, and I need somebody to help me forget it. Eleanor would have done it, I know, though I had not seen her often enough for her to care a great deal about me, I’m—”
Polly turned quickly around as the voice faltered and stopped. She laid her soft cheek against Miss Pomeroy’s with a little cry of sympathy.
“I will be just as like Eleanor as ever I can,” said Polly, earnestly, “and I will love you every minute, and try to do everything you want.”
“I want you to have a good time,” said Miss Pomeroy, patting the brown curls. “We are old-fashioned people here, and you may find it very dull and quiet, my dear.”
“I shall like it very, very much,” said Polly, stoutly, and to herself she said, “There! you can help Miss Pomeroy as well as the poor-farm folks, Polly Prentiss, and if you didn’t do it, you’d be as selfish as old Redtop!” Redtop was a rooster, resident at Manser farm, whose greed and ugliness were by-words in the place of his abode.
“Now I must go to my letter-writing,” said Miss Pomeroy, briskly, after a few moments’ silence. She had stroked Polly’s curls, with a far-away expression, and then had given her a sudden kiss and set her down on the piazza floor. “I’m obliged to do a good many errands to-day, and I think perhaps I’d better not take you, though I should, generally. Suppose you run out to the kitchen and see if you can help Arctura in any way.”