Nancy chuckled.
"You're right she is--and she always was, I guess! But she's
somethin' more, now, since you came."
Pollyanna's face changed. Her brows drew into a troubled frown.
"There, that's what I was going to ask you, Nancy," she sighed.
"Do you think Aunt Polly likes to have me here? Would she
mind--if if I wasn't here any more?"
Nancy threw a quick look into the little girl's absorbed face.
She had expected to be asked this question long before, and she
had dreaded it. She had wondered how she should answer it--how
she could answer it honestly without cruelly hurting the
questioner. But now, NOW, in the face of the new suspicions that
had become convictions by the afternoon's umbrella-sending--Nancy
only welcomed the question with open arms. She was sure that,
with a clean conscience to-day, she could set the love-hungry
little girl's heart at rest.
"Likes ter have ye here? Would she miss ye if ye wa'n't here?"
cried Nancy, indignantly. "As if that wa'n't jest what I was
tellin' of ye! Didn't she send me posthaste with an umbrella
'cause she see a little cloud in the sky? Didn't she make me tote
yer things all down-stairs, so you could have the pretty room you
wanted? Why, Miss Pollyanna, when ye remember how at first she
hated ter have--"
With a choking cough Nancy pulled herself up just in time.
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