“Mr. Tom, Mr. Tom, that blessed child's gone,” she wailed. “She's vanished right up into Heaven where she come from, poor lamb--and me told ter give her bread and milk in the kitchen--her what's eatin' angel food this minute, I'll warrant, I'll warrant!” The old man straightened up. “Gone? Heaven?” he repeated stupidly, unconsciously sweeping the brilliant sunset sky with his gaze. He stopped, stared a moment intently, then turned with a slow grin. “Well, Nancy, it do look like as if she'd tried ter get as nigh Heaven as she could, and that's a fact,” he agreed, pointing with a crooked finger to where, sharply outlined against the reddening sky, a slender, wind-blown figure was poised on top of a huge rock. “Well, she ain't goin' ter Heaven that way ter-night--not if I has my say,” declared Nancy, doggedly. “If the mistress asks, tell her I ain't furgettin' the dishes, but I gone on a stroll,” she flung back over her shoulder, as she sped toward the path that led through the open field. CHAPTER V. THE GAME “For the land's sake, Miss Pollyanna, what a scare you did give me,” panted Nancy, hurrying up to the big rock, down which Pollyanna had just regretfully slid. “Scare? Oh, I'm so sorry; but you mustn't, really, ever get scared about me, Nancy. Father and the Ladies' Aid used to do it, too, till they found I always came back all right.” “But I didn't even know you'd went,” cried Nancy, tucking the little girl's hand under her arm and hurrying her down the hill. “I didn't see you go, and nobody didn't. I guess you flew right up through the roof; I do, I do.” Pollyanna skipped gleefully. “I did, 'most--only I flew down instead of up. I came down the tree.” Nancy stopped short. “You did--what?” “Came down the tree, outside my window.” “My stars and stockings!” gasped Nancy, hurrying on again. “I'd like ter know what yer aunt would say ter that!” “Would you? Well, I'll tell her, then, so you can find out,” promised the little girl, cheerfully. “Mercy!” gasped Nancy. “No--no!” “Why, you don't mean she'd CARE!” cried Pollyanna, plainly disturbed. “No--er--yes--well, never mind. I--I ain't so very particular about knowin' what she'd say, truly,” stammered Nancy, determined to keep one scolding from Pollyanna, if nothing more. “But, say, we better hurry. I've got ter get them dishes done, ye know.” “I'll help,” promised Pollyanna, promptly. “Oh, Miss Pollyanna!” demurred Nancy. For a moment there was silence. The sky was darkening fast. Pollyanna took a firmer hold of her friend's arm. “I reckon I'm glad, after all, that you DID get scared--a little, 'cause then you came after me,” she shivered. “Poor little lamb! And you must be hungry, too. I--I'm afraid you'll have ter have bread and milk in the kitchen with me. Yer aunt didn't like it--because you didn't come down ter supper, ye know.” “But I couldn't. I was up here.”