ived
about a block further down Arch street. The other she had known at the
seaside. She smiled with a sudden pleasant surprise. The girl simply
stared. Marilla's face was scarlet. Was it possible she was not to
know any of these girls if she should meet them? This one did not live
here, she knew that.

Then Aunt Hetty came home looking thinner and more dried up than ever,
but glad to get back to her room. She would not come down to dinner
but M'rilla could bring her up some toast and tea.

So instead of having a cozy time with Bridget she carried the small
waiter up stairs. The tea was in the pot; Aunt Hetty had the kettle
boiling on the gas stove. The toast was on a hot plate.

"Sit down a minute, I've hardly seen you. Did you have a nice time? I
suppose the twins will be on the everlasting trot, now they can walk
so well, and as for talking--well I'm glad I don't have to live with
them; that I'm clear this end of the house. You see that they don't
come up stairs. It's nice to be in your own place, though the folks
where I staid were very good and pleasant, I s'pose they thought I
might remember them in my will," and she gave a shrill sort of cackle.
"Now I tell you there isn't much fun in living to be old, and I seem
to have lost my spunk. It's just a kind of drowsing life away. Now
tell me what you did! My, but this toast tastes good! Better than all
their flummery."

"Oh, there were a good many nice things and pretty houses and gay
people, and a big place where they all went to meals. And Jack is
better than he used to be, he had the nicest little playmate and was
out of the house most of the time. But I must run down, for Bridget
said my dinner was ready. I'll come up again when the babies are in
bed; can I bring you anything?"

"Well, yes, a glass of hot milk. No, bring it in a cup with a
handle--it is so much nicer to hold. You're a good willing girl,
Marilla."

"I thought you never would get down," Bridget said, almost crossly.
"If you have to wait on that old woman and all the rest of us you'll
wish you were in the grave. My! You look all tired out. Now, here's a
nice bit of chicken that I laid aside for you. I'm not goin' to have
you fed on leavings. And it wasn't nice down there?" nodding her
head.

"Oh, Bridget, such a kitchen and such a table, and no white cloth on
it! They, the servants didn't seem to care, and they were nice and
clean at the Home, and you're--well, you have things as nice as in