Good-night," she called cheerfully, as she ran from the room.
"Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly, half aloud.

"What a most extraordinary child!" Then she frowned.

"She's 'glad' I punished her, and I 'mustn't feel bad one bit,' and she's going to 'love to live' with me! Well, upon my soul!" ejaculated Miss Polly again, as she took up her book.
Fifteen minutes later, in the attic room, a lonely little girl sobbed into the tightly-clutched sheet: "I know, father-among-the-angels, I'm not playing the game one bit now--not one bit; but I don't believe even you could find anything to be glad about sleeping all alone 'way off up here in the dark--like this.
If only I was near Nancy or Aunt Polly, or even a Ladies' Aider, it would be easier!" Down-stairs in the kitchen, Nancy, hurrying with her belated work, jabbed her dish-mop into the milk pitcher, and muttered Jerkily: "If playin' a silly-fool game--about bein' glad you've got crutches when you want dolls--is got ter be--my way--o' bein' that rock o' refuge--why, I'm a-goin' ter play it--I am, I am!".