Her babies all died, I heard, except the last one; and that must be the one what's a-comin'." "She's eleven years old." "Yes, she might be," nodded the old man.
"And she's goin' ter sleep in the attic--more shame ter HER!" scolded Nancy, with another glance over her shoulder toward the house behind her.
Old Tom frowned.

The next moment a curious smile curved his lips.
"I'm a-wonderin' what Miss Polly will do with a child in the house," he said.
"Humph! Well, I'm a-wonderin' what a child will do with Miss Polly in the house!" snapped Nancy.
The old man laughed.
"I'm afraid you ain't fond of Miss Polly," he grinned.
"As if ever anybody could be fond of her!" scorned Nancy.
Old Tom smiled oddly.

He stooped and began to work again.
"I guess maybe you didn't know about Miss Polly's love affair," he said slowly.
"Love affair--HER! No!--and I guess nobody else didn't, neither." "Oh, yes they did," nodded the old man.

"And the feller's livin' ter-day--right in this town, too." "Who is he ?" "I ain't a-tellin' that.

It ain't fit that I should." The old man drew himself erect.