CHAPTER VIITHE FIRST MORNING
POLLY slept soundly that night in her little white bed, and woke to see the sun peeping in at her between the snowy curtains of her east window.
“Dear me!” cried Polly. “I ought to be downstairs helping Mrs. Manser this very minute!” Then she clapped her little hands over her mouth and lay very still, remembering where she was, and that Mrs. Manser and all her old friends were nearly seven miles away, on Maple Hill.
“I believe I’d better not think about them just now,” said Polly, winking fast, as she got out of bed. “Someway it makes me feel as if I wanted to swallow every minute. Maybe I can do something for Miss Arctura Green if I hurry and get dressed.”
But when she stole softly downstairs, wearing the old red frock covered with one of her new white aprons, Polly stopped for a minute to look up at the tall clock. Near the clock was a high-backed chair, and as Polly heard Arctura’s voice and a strange one, she sat down in the chair to wait until Miss Green’s visitor departed. She was sitting there when Miss Pomeroy’s door opened, and down she came over the stairs.
“So you’re up before me, Mary,” said the mistress of the house as she held out her hand to the little girl. Polly took the kind hand and shook it vigorously up and down as she had seen grown people do. “For she doesn’t want to kiss me, of course,” thought Polly, wistfully, remembering Mrs. Ramsdell and dear Grandma Manser. “I expect grand people like her don’t kiss little girls much.”
“I thought,” said Polly, when the ceremony was over, “that maybe I could help Miss Arctura set the table for breakfast, but I heard her talking to somebody at the porch door, so I sat down here to wait.”
Just then the door into the hall from the library burst open and Arctura appeared with a much vexed expression on her flushed face.
“Morning, both,” she said, abruptly. “There, I knew you’d be down and waiting! ’Twas old Jane Hackett kep’ me; she’s come spying out the land already. I didn’t let her into the hall for fear she’d abide with us all day.”
“S—h, Arctura!” said Miss Pomeroy, gravely, though her lips seemed inclined to twitch a little. “How is Mrs. Hackett’s rheumatism to-day?”
“Thinks there’s a spell coming on, I believe,” said Arctura, looking rather crestfallen. “Breakfast’s ready, all but the griddle-cakes; I can’t sit down with you, for I’ve got them to fry.”
After breakfast, Miss Pomeroy sent Polly out on the broad piazza that ran across the front of the house and the west side, to play with the kittens.
“I have some plans to talk over with Arctura,” said she, “and then I want a little talk with you before I start my letter-writing. Don’t step off the piazza, for the grass is very wet. It rained in the night, and I don’t wish my guest to take cold,” said Miss Pomeroy, with her pleasant smile.
“I presume,” said Polly to Snip and Snap, as she dangled a string alluringly just above their reach, and watched their wild jumps into the air, “Miss Pomeroy is going to speak to me about my top apron button not being buttoned; but I didn’t forget it till she came down. I was going to ask Miss Arctura Green to fasten it for me. Probably Eleanor had long arms that could reach; I expect she did. Don’t you catch the bottom of this dress, mister,” said Polly, uplifting a warning finger at Snap, whose attitude certainly justified firm, quick measures, “for it’s just as tender!”
Meanwhile Miss Pomeroy and Arctura were having another consultation in the kitchen.
“I don’t know just what to plan about little Mary,” said Miss Hetty, doubtfully. “You see, I want to find out what she likes best to do, so that I can tell what kind of a child she is. I want her to act her own nature, but, of course, I must suggest things and ask some questions, for she’s very shy.”
“M—m,” said Arctura, thoughtfully, “she handles her knife and fork real pretty. I noticed it as I was in and out the two meals, yesterday and to-day. You’d know she come of good folks, and I must say that Manser woman’s brought her up well, though she’s a hatchet-faced piece, if ever I saw one, and given to nagging, if I’m any judge. Supposing you should ride off to the village without Mary this morning and let me visit with her a little mite. She’s full as used to kitchens as she is to parlors, I expect.”
“I believe that would be an excellent idea,” said Miss Pomeroy. “Arctura, you are a very sensible woman.”
“Sho!” said Arctura but she turned quickly to the sink to hide a smile of gratification.
“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.”