“I can’t write any more—­yes, I can!” she amended.  “Miss Sniffen didn’t tell me not to write.  I needn’t let them pay me any money—­I might order it sent to the missionaries!  Why,”—­as the thought flashed upon her,—­“I could have them send the money anywhere, couldn’t I?  To anybody I knew of that needed it!  Oh, I will!  I’ll begin this very day!  Polly Dudley, you’ve made life worth living for me!”

“I haven’t done anything!” laughed Polly.  “That is your thought, and it is a lovely, unselfish one!”

“It would never have come to me but for what you said!  How can I ever thank you!”

“Nothing to thank me for!” insisted Polly.  “But if you will have it so, I’ll say you may thank me by letting me read your poems.”

“Oh, I’d love to!  And then you can tell me whether they are right or not!”

“As if I’d know!” chuckled Polly.  “But I’ll run away now and let you go to writing—­I do know enough for that!” She took Miss Twining’s face between her soft palms and gave her four kisses, on cheeks and temples.  “Those are for good luck, like a four-leaf clover,” she said gayly.  “Good-bye, dear!”

CHAPTER XXV

ALICE TWINING, MARTYR

Early the next morning Polly ran over to the Home.  She was eager to hear how Miss Twining’s new plan had worked.  As she neared her friend’s door, however, a murmur of voices came from within, and she kept on to the third floor, making her way straight to the corner room.

Juanita Sterling met her with a troubled little smile.

“What is it?” she asked quickly, looking beyond to Mrs. Albright and Miss Crilly.  Their excited faces emphasized the other’s doubtful greeting.

“Nothing,” spoke up Mrs. Albright,—­“only Miss Twining has had a time with Miss Sniffen.”

“What about?”

“Money,” answered Miss Sterling wearily.  “It is lucky for the rest of us that we don’t have any.”

“That same money?” persisted Polly.

“No, dear.”  Mrs. Albright drew up a chair beside her—­“Come sit down, and I’ll tell you about it.  I’ve been telling them, and we have got a little wrought up over it, that’s all.”

“I should think anybody’d get wrought up!” put in Miss Crilly.  “I guess it will be the death of poor Miss Twining!”

“No, no, it won’t!  See how you’re scaring Polly!”

The girl glanced beseechingly from one to another.

“What is it?  You’re keeping something back!”

Mrs. Albright patted the chair invitingly.  “Come here!  I’m going to tell you every word I know.”

“She was so happy yesterday!” mourned Polly.

“She will be again, dear.”

“Looks like it!” sniffed Miss Crilly.  “I believe in saying the truth right out!”

“Katharine Crilly, you just mind your own business!” laughed Mrs. Albright.