"I can't _bear_ to think it's all over--except that life itself is one grand adventure and probably, after a little, I'll look back on the school days and think how empty they were of--real things!" Then Nancy, looking down at the frail white hand that clasped her own, thought with a sort of shock that life was scarcely an adventure for poor Miss Milly. But Miss Milly answered contentedly. "I love to hear all about it. I'm glad you had it, my dear. I hope you'll come in and talk with me often--it's like sunshine hearing your young voice!" "Oh, I shall _like_ to. You won't think I'm dreadful, will you, if I tell you that Aunt Sabrina frightens me awfully and so does B'lindy--just a little. But you don't seem a bit like them." Miss Milly laughed outright--a laugh that had a silver tinkle in it. "No, I suppose I'm not--a bit like them." "So when I'm so frightened I don't know what to do I shall come straight to you. And, please, Aunt Milly, will _you_ call me Nancy? No one has ever called me anything but that and it makes me feel--like someone else--when they call me Anne. Aunt Sabrina was horrified when I asked her." "Yes--she would be! Of course I shall call you Nancy--or anything that you wish! I can't be much company for you, dear, tied to this couch, but you can bring a great deal of happiness to me." A wistful gleam in Aunt Milly's eyes made Nancy lean over and kiss her again. At that moment the door opened and Aunt Sabrina walked in. Then it seemed to Nancy as though a shadow crossed Miss Milly's face. The glow in her eyes died completely. She seemed to shrink back among the cushions. "Oh, you have met our niece," Aunt Sabrina said in her cold voice and with no curiosity as to how it had happened. Nancy looked at Aunt Milly and Aunt Milly's glance seemed to say: "Please don't tell her I peeked through the blinds." Aloud she answered meekly: "I told her we were glad she had come!" Aunt Sabrina nodded as though to approve such action. Her eyes turned around the room. "Is there anything you want done? B'lindy's washed the other covers for your cushions, but they aren't dry enough to iron. The color didn't run a bit--they'll be more sensible than those white ones, for they won't be needing washing all the time, and B'lindy has enough to do!" "Oh, yes, they'll be more sensible," Miss Milly agreed wearily. "No, I don't want anything." There were two or three moments of silence. Aunt Sabrina went about the room straightening a picture here, a "tidy" there. Nancy watched her with angry eyes--what _was_ there about her that had killed that precious glow in poor little Miss Milly? She rose abruptly. "May I go to my room? I want to write a letter." Miss Sabrina said, "Why, of course, Anne," and Miss Milly flashed a little ghost of a smile that entreated: "You see what life is like for me, so please, _please_ come again."