y, in spite of her frightened
submission to her mistress, was no saint.

"I--just--wish--I could--dig--out the corners--of--her--soul!" she
muttered jerkily, punctuating her words with murderous jabs of her
pointed cleaning-stick. "There's plenty of 'em needs cleanin' all right,
all right! The idea of stickin' that blessed child 'way off up here in
this hot little room--with no fire in the winter, too, and all this big
house ter pick and choose from! Unnecessary children, indeed! Humph!"
snapped Nancy, wringing her rag so hard her fingers ached from the
strain; "I guess it ain't CHILDREN what is MOST unnecessary just now,
just now!"

For some time she worked in silence; then, her task finished, she looked
about the bare little room in plain disgust.

"Well, it's done--my part, anyhow," she sighed. "There ain't no dirt
here--and there's mighty little else. Poor little soul!--a pretty place
this is ter put a homesick, lonesome child into!" she finished, going
out and closing the door with a bang, "Oh!" she ejaculated, biting
her lip. Then, doggedly: "Well, I don't care. I hope she did hear the
bang,--I do, I do!"

In the garden that afternoon, Nancy found a few minutes in which to
interview Old Tom, who had pulled the weeds and shovelled the paths
about the place for uncounted years.

"Mr. Tom," began Nancy, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to
make sure she was unobserved; "did you know a little girl was comin'
here ter live with Miss Polly?"

"A--what?" demanded the old man, straightening his bent back with
difficulty.

"A little girl--to live with Miss Polly."

"Go on with yer jokin'," scoffed unbelieving Tom. "Why don't ye tell me
the sun is a-goin' ter set in the east ter-morrer?"

"But it's true. She told me so herself," maintained Nancy. "It's her
niece; and she's eleven years old."

The man's jaw fell.

"Sho!--I wonder, now," he muttered; then a tender light came into his
faded eyes. "It ain't--but it must be--Miss Jennie's little gal! There
wasn't none of the rest of 'em married. Why, Nancy, it must be Miss
Jennie's little gal. Glory be ter praise! ter think of my old eyes
a-seein' this!"

"Who was Miss Jennie?"

"She was an angel straight out of Heaven," breathed the man, fervently;
"but the old master and missus knew her as their oldest daughter. She
was twenty when she married and went away from here long years ago. Her
babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be t