badgered by that very uncomfortable old lady. Independence is a very
nice thing, and poverty isn't half as bad as this sort of slavery. But
you are not going to be poor, nor worry about anything. We'll just be
married and take mother and Toady home and be as jolly as grigs, and
never think of Mrs. K. again,--unless she loses her fortune, or
gets sick, or comes to grief in any way. We'd lend her a hand then,
wouldn't we, Polly?" and Van's mild face was pleasant to behold as he
made the kindly proposition.

"Well, we'd think of it," said Polly, trying not to relent, but
feeling that she was going very fast.

"Let's do it!" cried Toady, fired with the thought of privy conspiracy
and rebellion. "Mother would be so comfortable with Polly, and
I'd help Van in the store, when I've learned that confounded
multiplication table," he added with a groan; "and if Aunt Kipp comes
a visiting, we'll just say 'Not at home,' and let her trot off again."

"It sounds very nice, but aunt will be dreadfully offended and I don't
wish to be ungrateful," said Mrs. Snow, brightening visibly.

"There's no ingratitude about it," cried Van. "She might have done
everything to make you love, and respect, and admire her, and been a
happy, useful, motherly, old soul; but she didn't choose to, and now
she must take the consequences. No one cares for her, because she
cares for nobody; her money's the plague of her life, and not a single
heart will ache when she dies."

"Poor Aunt Kipp!" said Polly, softly.