don't know what to do with it, for people I don't want to leave it to
ought to have it, and people I do like won't take it. Oh, deary me,
what _shall_ I do! what shall I do!"

"Shall I tell you, ma'am?" asked Van, gently, for, though she was a
very provoking old lady, he pitied and wished to help her.

A nod and a gurgle seemed to give consent, and, boldly advancing, Van
said, with blush and a stammer, but a very hearty voice,--

"I think, ma'am, if you'd do the right thing with your money you'd be
at ease and find it saved a deal of worry all round. Give it to Mrs.
Snow; she deserves it, poor lady, for she's had a hard time, and done
her duty faithfully. Don't wait till you are--that is, till you--well,
till you in point of fact die, ma'am. Give it now, and enjoy the
happiness it will make. Give it kindly, let them see you're glad to
do it, and I am sure you'll find them grateful; I'm sure you won't be
lonely any more, or feel that you are not loved and thanked. Try it,
ma'am, just try it," cried Van, getting excited by the picture he
drew. "And I give you my word I'll do my best to respect and love you
like a son, ma'am."

He knew that he was promising a great deal, but for Polly's sake he
felt that he could make even that Herculean effort. Aunt Kipp was
surprised and touched; but the contrary old lady couldn't make up her
mind to yield so soon, and wouldn't have done it if Toady hadn't taken
her by storm. Having a truly masculine horror of tears, a very tender
heart under his tailless jacket, and being much "tumbled up and down
in his own mind" by the events of the week, the poor little lad felt
nerved to attempt any novel enterprise, even that of voluntarily