where Mandy had left her. She hardly knew which
way to turn. She was happy, yet afraid. She felt like sinking upon her
knees and begging God to be good to her, to help her. She who had once
been so independent, so self-reliant, now felt the need of direction
from above. She was no longer master of her own soul, something had
gone from her, something that would never, never come again. While
she hesitated, Hasty came through the gate looking anxiously over his
shoulder.

"Well, Hasty?" she said, for it was apparent that Hasty had something
important on his mind.

"It's de big one from de circus," he whispered, excitedly.

"The big one?"

"You know--De one what brung you."

"You don't mean--?" Polly's question was answered by Jim himself who had
followed Hasty quickly through the gate. Their arms were instantly about
each other. Jim forgot Hasty and every one in the world except Polly,
and neither of them noticed the horrified Miss Perkins and the Widow
Willoughby, who had been crossing the yard on their way from the
Sunday-school-room with Julia.

"You're just as big as ever," said Polly, when she could let go of Jim
long enough to look at him. "You haven't changed a bit."

"You've changed enough for both of us." He looked at the unfamiliar long
skirts and the new way of doing her hair. "You're bigger, Poll; more
grown up like."

"Oh, Jim!" She glanced admiringly at the new brown suit, the rather
startling tie, and the neat little posy in Jim's buttonhole.

"The fellows said I'd have to slick up a bit if I was a-comin' to see
you, so as not to make you ashamed of me. Do you like 'em?" he asked,
looking down approvingly at his new brown clothes.

"Very much." For the first time Jim noticed the unfamiliar manner of her
speech. He began to feel self-conscious. A year ago she would have said,
"You bet!" He looked at her awkwardly. She hurried on: "Hasty told me
you were showing in Wakefield. I knew you'd come to see me. How's Barker
and all the boys?" She stopped with a catch in her throat, and added
more slowly: "I suppose everything's different, now that Toby is gone."

"He'd a-liked to a-seen you afore he cashed in," Jim answered; "but
maybe it was just as well he didn't. You'd hardly a-knowed him toward
the last, he got so thin an' peeked like. He wasn't the same after we
lost you, nobody was, not even Bingo."

"Have you still got Bingo?" she asked, through her tears.

"Yep, we got him," drawled Jim, "but