She sat for hours with Miss Pomeroy, sewing patchwork and listening to stories of the old curiosities in the Indian cabinet that stood in the parlor. They were interesting stories, but the room was kept very warm because of Miss Hetty’s rheumatism which was troublesome just then, and Polly’s head grew hot and tired as she sat quietly in the little chair at Miss Pomeroy’s side. She ate as much as she possibly could at every meal, and she did not speak of going out to walk in the afternoons after her hour on the bed. “I shall be glad when I get over this stiffness, so we may have our walks together again,” said Miss Pomeroy, when Friday night came. “I’m afraid if it were not for me, Mary, you would not have enough outdoor air. But I am glad you are so contented in the house, for it is very pleasant to have a little companion while I am obliged to keep still so much of the time.” Polly smiled affectionately at her, but the little girl’s heart was heavy. She was listless in her movements except when under some one’s eye, and felt a strange indifference to the things which had always delighted her. “I guess I’m getting just exactly like Eleanor in some ways,” she said to herself many times a day. “The brook calls and calls me just the way it did at first, but my legs feel so queer and my head is so funny. I don’t seem to care so much about paddling in the water now. Miss Arctura says it is too cold in the woods yet, anyway. She says her brother John’s wife caught her death once, neglecting to use her judgment when a cold spell came in April. Oh, dear. I wish Bobby had been here and gone away! S’posing he doesn’t ’prove of me. Wouldn’t that be dreadful!” Hiram was Polly’s stay and comfort in this trying time. Arctura--the truth must be told--had suffered more or less from a grumbling toothache ever since her afternoon in the woods. Arctura objected to going to the dentist “on principle,” she said, though Miss Pomeroy had never been able to understand just what she meant by that. Hiram was the only person who ventured to brook the subject to his sister, and his advice was sharply scorned. “Don’t you think you’d ought to have that tooth pulled, ’Tura?” Hiram had mildly asked as he washed his hands at the noon hour on Thursday, and Miss Green had turned upon him with swift contempt. “Better have my legs removed next time they get a mite overtired and ache a little, hadn’t I?” she said, severely. “Go and have all your own teeth out whenever you want, but just leave mine alone, if you please!” Polly had overheard this dialogue as she entered the kitchen on an errand, and she could hardly believe her ears.