“It’s a stingy town, I’m afraid,” said Arctura, shaking her head. “The Square was the most liberal man in it, and Miss Hetty follows right on, but most of the purse strings are drawn pretty close. Sometime I’ll tell you a little story about the Square and me when I was your age; you remind me to relate it to you. We haven’t got time now,” she said, glancing at the clock, “for those cakes have got to come out in a minute, and then I’ll have to fly around; dinner time always gains on me, someway.” “Do you know anything special I could do to please Miss Pomeroy?” asked Polly, wistfully. “She’s being so good to me.” “Let’s see,” said Arctura, meditatively. “Why, of course, she wants you to enjoy yourself. I expect she’d be pleased to see you take notice of things like the old shells and so on, and there’s the books; Bobby admired to read, and she always said Eleanor was quite a hand for stories, too. And you could go to walk with her, pleasant days, same as Bobby did last winter. And she’d be glad to see you relish your food.” “Oh, I do, Miss Arctura,” cried Polly. “I do, every single bite I take!” “Well now, that’s good news,” said Miss Green, comfortably. “I can’t think of anything else; you do all right so far as I know. I wouldn’t worry, but just do my best every day as things come along. Now we’ll take a look at those cakes.” “She didn’t say a word about playing or running round,” thought Polly, as Arctura rose to open the oven doors; “of course, she thinks I’m too big now for those things, just as Mrs. Manser said. There’s a girl in the village that’s most twelve, and she plays with a dolly, for I’ve seen her. But she belonged to somebody, and that’s different, I guess, from when you’re going to be adopted.” Polly’s lips seemed inclined to quiver for a moment, but then her cakes--the dozen golden brown cakes--were lifted from the oven and set on the table, and in the rush of delight, at seeing the delicate tops puffed up above the edges of the tins, the quiver changed to a smile. “Arctura says you are a born cook,” said Miss Pomeroy at dinner time, “and she has requested the pleasure of your company tomorrow morning when she makes the pies.” Polly dimpled with pleasure; she was eating steadily, just as much as she could. Miss Pomeroy noticed her increased appetite with agreeable surprise. “Miss Arctura was very, very kind to me,” said the little girl, sedately, “and I had a beautiful time, and Miss Arctura said if the minister--the supply minister, that’s nothing more or less than a bashful boy, according to her ideas--came to dinner Sunday, she should set four of my cakes along with four of hers on the table for dessert with the pudding.” Miss Pomeroy suppressed an inclination to laugh, and told Polly she had understood from Arctura that the cakes were a great success.