her or not," said the grandmother sorrowfully, as she drove toward
home that Sunday noon with Jacob Dyer and his wife. "I never saw the
doctor so taken with a child before. 'Twas a pity he had to lose his
own, and his wife too; how many years ago was it? I should think he'd
be lonesome, though to be sure he isn't in the house much. Marilla
Thomas keeps his house as clean as a button and she has been a good
stand-by for him, but it always seemed sort o' homesick there ever
since the day I was to his wife's funeral. She made an awful sight o'
friends considering she was so little while in the place. Well I'm
glad I let Nanny wear her best dress; I set out not to, it looked so
much like rain."

Whatever Marilla Thomas's other failings might have been, she
certainly was kind that day to the doctor's little guest. It would
have been a hard-hearted person indeed who did not enter somewhat into
the spirit of the child's delight. In spite of its being the first
time she had ever sat at any table but her grandmother's, she was not
awkward or uncomfortable, and was so hungry that she gave pleasure to
her entertainers in that way if no other. The doctor leaned back in
his chair and waited while the second portion of pudding slowly
disappeared, though Marilla could have told that he usually did not
give half time enough to his dinner and was off like an arrow the
first possible minute. Before he took his often interrupted afternoon
nap, he inquired for the damaged shoulder and requested a detailed
account of the accident; and presently they were both laughing
heartily at Nan's disaster, for she owned that she had chased and
treed a stray young squirrel, and that a mossy branch of one of the
old apple-trees in the straggling orchard had failed to bear even so
light a weight as hers. Nan had come to the ground because she would
not loose her hold of the squirrel, though he had slipped through her
hands after all as she carried him towards home. The guest was proud
to become a patient, especially as the only remedy that was offered
was a very comfortable handful of sugar-plums. Nan had never owned so
many at once, and in a transport of gratitude and affection she lifted
her face to kiss so dear a benefactor.

Her eyes looked up into his, and her simple nature was so unconscious
of the true dangers and perils of this world, that his very heart was
touched with compassion, and he leagued himself with the child's good
angel to defend