“Are you Miss—­Pollyanna?” she faltered.  The next moment she found herself half smothered in the clasp of two gingham-clad arms.

“Oh, I’m so glad, glad, glad to see you,” cried an eager voice in her ear.  “Of course I’m Pollyanna, and I’m so glad you came to meet me!  I hoped you would.”

“You—­you did?” stammered Nancy, vaguely wondering how Pollyanna could possibly have known her—­and wanted her.  “You—­you did?” she repeated, trying to straighten her hat.

“Oh, yes; and I’ve been wondering all the way here what you looked like,” cried the little girl, dancing on her toes, and sweeping the embarrassed Nancy from head to foot, with her eyes.  “And now I know, and I’m glad you look just like you do look.”

Nancy was relieved just then to have Timothy come up.  Pollyanna’s words had been most confusing.

“This is Timothy.  Maybe you have a trunk,” she stammered.

“Yes, I have,” nodded Pollyanna, importantly.  “I’ve got a brand-new one.  The Ladies’ Aid bought it for me—­and wasn’t it lovely of them, when they wanted the carpet so?  Of course I don’t know how much red carpet a trunk could buy, but it ought to buy some, anyhow—­much as half an aisle, don’t you think?  I’ve got a little thing here in my bag that Mr. Gray said was a check, and that I must give it to you before I could get my trunk.  Mr. Gray is Mrs. Gray’s husband.  They’re cousins of Deacon Carr’s wife.  I came East with them, and they’re lovely!  And—­there, here ’tis,” she finished, producing the check after much fumbling in the bag she carried.

Nancy drew a long breath.  Instinctively she felt that some one had to draw one—­after that speech.  Then she stole a glance at Timothy.  Timothy’s eyes were studiously turned away.

The three were off at last, with Pollyanna’s trunk in behind, and Pollyanna herself snugly ensconced between Nancy and Timothy.  During the whole process of getting started, the little girl had kept up an uninterrupted stream of comments and questions, until the somewhat dazed Nancy found herself quite out of breath trying to keep up with her.

“There!  Isn’t this lovely?  Is it far?  I hope ’tis—­I love to ride,” sighed Pollyanna, as the wheels began to turn.  “Of course, if ’tisn’t far, I sha’n’t mind, though, ’cause I’ll be glad to get there all the sooner, you know.  What a pretty street!  I knew ’twas going to be pretty; father told me—­”

She stopped with a little choking breath.  Nancy, looking at her apprehensively, saw that her small chin was quivering, and that her eyes were full of tears.  In a moment, however, she hurried on, with a brave lifting of her head.