“Yes’m,” said Polly; then she looked eagerly over at Arctura. “Did you ever see little Eleanor?” she asked, breathlessly.
“No, never,” said Arctura, and Polly felt a throb of disappointment. “You see, Square Pomeroy didn’t depart this life till a year ago last December, and he was kind of queer,” Arctura tapped her forehead significantly, “the last few years, and ’twasn’t a cheerful place to bring a child. And he’d hardly let his daughter out of his sight. About once in six months I’d send her off to Shelby to see the twins for two or three days, but I was always put to it to keep the Square satisfied till she got back.”
“Was he cross?” asked Polly.
“Not to say cross,” replied Arctura, slowly, “but terrible decided and unreasonable. Miss Hetty’s had her trials, and so’ve I; money isn’t all.”
“No’m,” said Polly, soberly, “but it does a great many things, Miss Arctura. Did you know how poor this town is? Manser farm leaks in places, and the paint is all gone, and the ceilings drop sometimes, pieces of them, I mean. But the town is too poor to help fix any of those things. Uncle Sam Blodgett and Father Manser would shingle the roof quick enough, though they aren’t as spry as once they were, if only they could set eyes on the shingles,” said Polly, quoting freely from her old friends.
“It’s a stingy town, I’m afraid,” said Arctura, shaking her head. “The Square was the most liberal man in it, and Miss Hetty follows right on, but most of the purse strings are drawn pretty close. Sometime I’ll tell you a little story about the Square and me when I was your age; you remind me to relate it to you. We haven’t got time now,” she said, glancing at the clock, “for those cakes have got to come out in a minute, and then I’ll have to fly around; dinner time always gains on me, someway.”
“Do you know anything special I could do to please Miss Pomeroy?” asked Polly, wistfully. “She’s being so good to me.”
“Let’s see,” said Arctura, meditatively. “Why, of course, she wants you to enjoy yourself. I expect she’d be pleased to see you take notice of things like the old shells and so on, and there’s the books; Bobby admired to read, and she always said Eleanor was quite a hand for stories, too. And you could go to walk with her, pleasant days, same as Bobby did last winter. And she’d be glad to see you relish your food.”
“Oh, I do, Miss Arctura,” cried Polly. “I do, every single bite I take!”
“Well now, that’s good news,” said Miss Green, comfortably. “I can’t think of anything else; you do all right so far as I know. I wouldn’t worry, but just do my best every day as things come along. Now we’ll take a look at those cakes.”