"There!--try that, and see how it fits."

Aunt Jane had emerged from the depths of a dark closet, and now tossed a limp calico print towards Polly.

The child could discern soiled patches on front and sleeves, and she revolted against the unclean garment; but silently she put it on.

"Well, that ain't so bad!" approved Aunt Jane. "Sophia's a whole year younger than you; but she takes a bigger waist. Stand out there--my, but it's short! Never mind! Here's a petticoat to go with it."

Polly looked down in dismay. She had thought she might perhaps steal away to the hospital, just to let the Doctor and Miss Lucy know where she was; but she could never brave the street in such a skirt.

"Now I'll go to sewin' b.u.t.tons, and you can do up the dinner dishes. I left 'em, thinkin' you'd be here. This is the way to the kitchen." And presently Polly found herself in a little stuffy box of a room, with a tableful of greasy dishes before her.

"Where are the children?" she ventured.

"At school, of course,--where you ought to be. Marcus and 'Melie I left at Mis' Cobbe's. That Marcus is a terror! I shall be thankful when he goes to school. Why did n't they send you this fall? You'll be 'way back in your books."

"Dr. Dudley has made arrangements for me to go to a school near the hospital; it does n't begin till next week."

"Oh, a private school! My, if they ain't puttin' the airs on to you!"

"It's near. That's why--"

"Huh! Well, 't ain't near here. I guess you can git along with the one my kids go to."

Polly did not reply. Experience had taught her to be sparing of words with Aunt Jane. She was still toiling with the heavy crockery, when a rush of feet in the hallway announced that school was out.

The door banged wide.

"Hoh! You've got back, have you?"

"Hullo, Poll!"

"Say, what you wearin' my dress for?"

"Oh, you've got on a gold locket! Le' me see it!" Katie's fingers began pulling at the clasp.

"Oh, don't, please!" cried Polly. "I'll unfasten it for you as soon as I get the dishes done."

"I want to see it now! Mamma, shan't Polly take off her locket, and let me see it?"

"Polly, why can't you try to please you cousin, and not be so stingy with your things?"

"My hands are soapy," she apologized, "and--"

"Well, don't you know enough to wipe them?" snapped Aunt Jane.

"You seem to have grown very helpless."

"Say, what are these blue stones in here?" queried Katie, turning the locket curiously.

"Turquoises," Polly answered, eyeing with fear Katie's rough handling.

"Whose picture is this?" was the next question. "Stop, you Gregory--you'll break it! Mamma, shant' he stop pulling it so?"

"Yes, Gregory, you just wait, like a good boy, till your sister's seen it; then you can take it."

Polly trembled. Her beautiful locket and chain in Gregory's dirty fingers!

"You have n't told me who this is," complained Katie.

"Burton Leonard."

"It's the kid she sung to," added the mother; "the one the paper told about."

"Oh!" cried Katie. "What big eyes he's got!" And she snapped the locket together.

"Now it's my turn!" a.s.serted Maude, s.n.a.t.c.hing the pretty thing from her sister's hand.

Gregory burst into a wail.

"Yer said I could have it next!" he lamented.

"Let him take it!" urged the mother. But Maude only clasped the chain about her own neck, and danced off to the looking-gla.s.s over the sink.

"Yer mean old thing!" screamed Gregory.

"Come get it, Greg!" Sophia darted towards her sister.

"When yer do, let me know!" jeered Maude, eluding their outstretched hands, and putting a chair between them and herself.

A short skirmish was followed by a chase around the room, until their mother interposed.

"Gracious me! What a hubbub! Maude Simpson, bring that locket to me this minute!"

"It was n't my fault at all!" whimpered Maude, taking off the chain and dropping it in her mother's lap.

"There's never no peace when you kids are in the house!"

grumbled the woman, tossing aside her work, and disappearing in the next room.

"What yer done with it?" whined Gregory, as she came back with empty hands.

"I've put it where you won't find it in a hurry," she answered tartly. "Now hustle outdoors, the whole of you, and don't show your heads in here again till supper time!"

Polly drew a breath of relief, as the last Simpson vanished. She had forgotten how turbulent the children were.

When the dishes were out of the way began Polly's first lesson in sewing b.u.t.tons to cards, and to Aunt Jane's delight she could soon do the work quickly and well.

"You'll be quite a help," was the commendation that brought a little solace to her sore heart. "Thank goodness, you're quieter than my own kids!"

So pa.s.sed the afternoon, until came supper and the new uncle.