r. Well, it's saved me a
world of bother. If kids don't like me I don't like them, so that's an
even score. But that certainly is a handsome child."

Jims chose this moment for waking up. He opened his big brown eyes and
looked at Mrs. Matilda Pitman unblinkingly. Then he sat up, dimpled
deliciously, pointed to her and said solemnly to Rilla, "Pwitty lady,
Willa, pwitty lady."

Mrs. Matilda Pitman smiled. Even eighty-odd is sometimes vulnerable in
vanity. "I've heard that children and fools tell the truth," she said.
"I was used to compliments when I was young--but they're scarcer when
you get as far along as I am. I haven't had one for years. It tastes
good. I s'pose now, you monkey, you wouldn't give me a kiss."

Then Jims did a quite surprising thing. He was not a demonstrative
youngster and was chary with kisses even to the Ingleside people. But
without a word he stood up in bed, his plump little body encased only
in his undershirt, ran to the footboard, flung his arms about Mrs.
Matilda Pitman's neck, and gave her a bear hug, accompanied by three or
four hearty, ungrudging smacks.

"Jims," protested Rilla, aghast at this liberty.

"You leave him be," ordered Mrs. Matilda Pitman, setting her bonnet
straight.

"Laws I like to see some one that isn't skeered of me. Everybody
is--you are, though you're trying to hide it. And why? Of course Robert
and Amelia are because I make 'em skeered on purpose. But folks always
are--no matter how civil I be to them. Are you going to keep this
child?"

"I'm afraid not. His father is coming home before long."

"Is he any good--the father, I mean?"

"Well--he's kind and nice--but he's poor--and I'm afraid he always will
be," faltered Rilla.

"I see--shiftless--can't make or keep. Well, I'll see--I'll see. I have
an idea. It's a good idea, and besides it will make Robert and Amelia
squirm. That's its main merit in my eyes, though I like that child,
mind you, because he ain't skeered of me. He's worth some bother. Now,
you get dressed, as I said before, and come down when you're good and
ready."

Rilla was stiff and sore after her tumble and walk of the night before
but she was not long in dressing herself and Jims. When she went down
to the kitchen she found a smoking hot breakfast on the table. Mr.
Chapley was nowhere in sight and Mrs. Chapley was cutting bread with a
sulky air. Mrs. Matilda Pitman was sitting in an armchair, knitting a
grey army sock. She still wore h