"
"I told ye so," nodded the man. "I told ye she wa'n't--old."
Nancy laughed.
"Well, I'll own up she HAIN'T got quite so good an imitation of
it--as she did have, 'fore Miss Pollyanna come. Say, Mr. Tom, who
WAS her A lover? I hain't found that out, yet; I hain't, I
hain't!"
"Hain't ye?" asked the old man, with an odd look on his face.
"Well, I guess ye won't then from me."
"Oh, Mr. Tom, come on, now," wheedled the girl. "Ye see, there
ain't many folks here that I CAN ask."
"Maybe not. But there's one, anyhow, that ain't answerin',"
grinned Old Tom. Then, abruptly, the light died from his eyes.
"How is she, ter-day--the little gal?"
Nancy shook her head. Her face, too, had sobered.
"Just the same, Mr. Tom. There ain't no special diff'rence, as I
can see--or anybody, I guess. She jest lays there an' sleeps an'
talks some, an' tries ter smile an' be 'glad' 'cause the sun sets
or the moon rises, or some other such thing, till it's enough ter
make yer heart break with achin'."
"I know; it's the 'game'--bless her sweet heart!" nodded Old Tom,
blinking a little.
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