“Oh, Nancy!” exulted Pollyanna, giving her a rapturous hug.  “That’ll be splendid!  Won’t we have fun?”

“Er—­maybe,” conceded Nancy, in open doubt.  “But you mustn’t count too much on me, ye know.  I never was no case fur games, but I’m a-goin’ ter make a most awful old try on this one.  You’re goin’ ter have some one ter play it with, anyhow,” she finished, as they entered the kitchen together.

Pollyanna ate her bread and milk with good appetite; then, at Nancy’s suggestion, she went into the sitting room, where her aunt sat reading.  Miss Polly looked up coldly.

“Have you had your supper, Pollyanna?”

“Yes, Aunt Polly.”

“I’m very sorry, Pollyanna, to have been obliged so soon to send you into the kitchen to eat bread and milk.”

“But I was real glad you did it, Aunt Polly.  I like bread and milk, and Nancy, too.  You mustn’t feel bad about that one bit.”

Aunt Polly sat suddenly a little more erect in her chair.

“Pollyanna, it’s quite time you were in bed.  You have had a hard day, and to-morrow we must plan your hours and go over your clothing to see what it is necessary to get for you.  Nancy will give you a candle.  Be careful how you handle it.  Breakfast will be at half-past seven.  See that you are down to that.  Good-night.”

Quite as a matter of course, Pollyanna came straight to her aunt’s side and gave her an affectionate hug.

“I’ve had such a beautiful time, so far,” she sighed happily.  “I know I’m going to just love living with you but then, I knew I should before I came.  Good-night,” she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.

“Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud.  “What a most extraordinary child!” Then she frowned.  “She’s ‘glad’ I punished her, and I ‘mustn’t feel bad one bit,’ and she’s going to ‘love to live’ with me!  Well, upon my soul!” ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her book.

Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into the tightly-clutched sheet: 

“I know, father-among-the-angels, I’m not playing the game one bit now—­not one bit; but I don’t believe even you could find anything to be glad about sleeping all alone ’way off up here in the dark—­like this.  If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies’ Aider, it would be easier!”

Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work, jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered Jerkily: 

“If playin’ a silly-fool game—­about bein’ glad you’ve got crutches when you want dolls—­is got ter be—­my way—­o’ bein’ that rock o’ refuge—­why, I’m a-goin’ ter play it—­I am, I am!”

CHAPTER VI.  A QUESTION OF DUTY

It was nearly seven o’clock when Pollyanna awoke that first day after her arrival.  Her windows faced the south and the west, so she could not see the sun yet; but she could see the hazy blue of the morning sky, and she knew that the day promised to be a fair one.