THE LITTLE ATTIC ROOM
here, too, 'cause where there isn't any glass I can't see my freckles."
Nancy made a sudden queer little sound with her mouth—but when Pollyanna turned, her head was in the trunk again. At one of the windows, a few minutes later, Pollyanna gave a glad cry and clapped her hands joyously.
"Oh, Nancy, I hadn't seen this before," she breathed. "Look—'way off there, with those trees and the houses and that lovely church spire, and the river shining just like silver. Why, Nancy, there doesn't anybody need any pictures with that to look at. Oh, I'm so glad now she let me have this room!"
To Pollyanna's surprise and dismay, Nancy burst into tears. Pollyanna hurriedly crossed to her side.
"Why, Nancy, Nancy—what is it?" she cried; then, fearfully: "This wasn't—your room, was it?"
"My room!" stormed Nancy, hotly, choking back the tears. "If you ain't a little angel straight from Heaven, and if some folks don't eat dirt before—Oh, land! there's her bell!" After which amazing speech, Nancy sprang to her feet, dashed out of the room, and went clattering down the stairs.
Left alone, Pollyanna went back to her "pic-
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