“You needn’t be afraid of the minister, my dear,” she said, kindly, “he likes children, and has two little sisters at home.” Polly smiled faintly in return. When the minister came, and they had all walked slowly down the aisle together, there was no sign of the Manser wagon, but Polly was sure she could hear it way up the road; it had a peculiar rattle, not to be mistaken for any other. The little girl had a sober face as she climbed up into the seat beside Hiram, with the minister’s help. “I’m grateful I’ve got you instead of the preacher,” said Hiram, facing straight ahead, as soon as Miss Pomeroy and the minister were fairly launched in conversation. “I’ve always been to church, and I’m a member, but I’m scared of speaking to ’em; it don’t make any difference whether they’re young or old. What’s the matter, honey? Don’t you tell me without you’re a mind to.” “I thought perhaps I’d see the Manser Farm folks,” said Polly. “I thought maybe Uncle Blodgett would want to wait, and Aunty Peebles. I don’t know as Mrs. Ramsdell came if her rheumatism was bad.” “She was there,” said Hiram, quietly, “I know ’em all by sight, and once in awhile I have a little talk with Mr. Manser when we’re taking the horses out of the sheds. But to-day Mrs. Manser hurried him up, and hustled the three old folks into the wagon as if something was after her. I shouldn’t have dared to offer Mis’ Ramsdell anything unless I’d wanted it bit in halves, when she got in,” said Hiram, with a low chuckle. “She spoke her mind good and free, too: I don’t recall ever hearing any one speak freer. She was all for waiting to see you.” “Then I think Mrs. Manser was real mean,” said Polly, with flushed cheeks. “I don’t suppose she meant to be, but I think she was!” Hiram reached out his big brown hand and gave Polly’s fingers a sympathetic squeeze. “I expect we are about as naughty as we can be, both of us,” he said, softly, “but I take real comfort in it once in a while. That Manser woman’s no favorite of mine, nor ever was. I can’t abide her.” “She took care of me for seven years,” said Polly, with a spasm of loyalty, forgetting how little of the care had really come on Mrs. Manser’s shoulders, “and I do try to love her.” “Love don’t always come by trying,” said Hiram, tranquilly, “but I suppose it’s no harm to give it a fair chance. And as for those old folks of yours, you shall see ’em next Sunday, if I have to tole Mr. Manser down behind the sheds and keep him there.” Then Hiram puckered his lips and softly whistled “Duke Street” all the rest of the way to Pomeroy Oaks, while Polly sat beside him, much cheered and comforted.