n the town that if Old Tom was Miss
Polly's right-hand man, Timothy was her left.

Timothy was a good-natured youth, and a good-looking one, as well.
Short as had been Nancy's stay at the house, the two were already good
friends. To-day, however, Nancy was too full of her mission to be her
usual talkative self; and almost in silence she took the drive to the
station and alighted to wait for the train.

Over and over in her mind she was saying it "light hair, red-checked
dress, straw hat." Over and over again she was wondering just what sort
of child this Pollyanna was, anyway.

"I hope for her sake she's quiet and sensible, and don't drop knives nor
bang doors," she sighed to Timothy, who had sauntered up to her.

"Well, if she ain't, nobody knows what'll become of the rest of us,"
grinned Timothy. "Imagine Miss Polly and a NOISY kid! Gorry! there goes
the whistle now!"

"Oh, Timothy, I--I think it was mean ter send me," chattered the
suddenly frightened Nancy, as she turned and hurried to a point where
she could best watch the passengers alight at the little station.

It was not long before Nancy saw her--the slender little girl in the
red-checked gingham with two fat braids of flaxen hair hanging down her
back. Beneath the straw hat, an eager, freckled little face turned to
the right and to the left, plainly searching for some one.

Nancy knew the child at once, but not for some time could she control
her shaking knees sufficiently to go to her. The little girl was
standing quite by herself when Nancy finally did approach her.

"Are you Miss--Pollyanna?" she faltered. The next moment she found
herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.

"Oh, I'm so glad, GLAD, GLAD to see you," cried an eager voice in her
ear. "Of course I'm Pollyanna, and I'm so glad you came to meet me! I
hoped you would."

"You--you did?" stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could
possibly have known her--and wanted her. "You--you did?" she repeated,
trying to straighten her hat.

"Oh, yes; and I've been wondering all the way here what you looked
like," cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the
embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes. "And now I know, and
I'm glad you look just like you do look."

Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up. Pollyanna's words
had been most confusing.

"This is Timothy. Maybe you have a trunk," she stammered.

"Yes, I have," nodde