“Well,” Mrs. Pepper's tone was unusually blithe as she stepped into the kitchen—“you've had a nice time, I suppose—what in the world!” and she stopped at the bedroom door.  
“Oh, mammy, if you'd been here!” said Joel, while Polly sat still, only holding on to her eyes as if they were going to fly out; “there's been a big woman here; she came right in—and she talked awfully! and Polly's been a-cryin', and her eyes ache dreadfully—and—”
 
“Been crying!” repeated Mrs. Pepper, coming up to poor Polly. “Polly been crying!” she still repeated.
 
“Oh, mammy, I couldn't help it,” said Polly; “she said—” and in spite of all she could do, the rain of tears began again, which bade fair to be as uncontrolled as before. But Mrs. Pepper took her up firmly in her arms, as if she were Phronsie, and sat down in the old rocking-chair and just patted her back.
 
“There, there,” she whispered, soothingly, “don't think of it, Polly; mother's got home.”
 
“Oh, mammy,” said Polly, crawling up to the comfortable neck for protection, “I ought not to mind; but 'twas Miss Jerusha Henderson; and she said—”
 
“What did she say?” asked Mrs. Pepper, thinking perhaps it to be the wiser thing to let Polly free her mind.
 
“Oh, she said that we ought to be doing something; and I ought to knit, and—”
 
“Go on,” said her mother.
 
“And then Joel got naughty; oh, mammy, he never did so before; and I couldn't stop him,” cried Polly, in great distress; “I really couldn't, mammy—and he talked to her; and he told her she wasn't ever coming here again.”
 
“Joel shouldn't have said that,” said Mrs. Pepper, and under her breath something was added that Polly even failed to hear—“but no more she isn't!”
 
“And, mammy,” cried Polly—and she flung her arms around her mother's neck and gave her a grasp that nearly choked Mrs. Pepper, “ain't I helpin' you some, mammy? Oh! I wish I could do something big for you? Ain't you happy, mammy?”
 
“For the land's sakes!” cried Mrs. Pepper, straining Polly to her heart, “whatever has that woman—whatever could she have said to you? Such a girl as you are, too!” cried Mrs. Pepper, hugging Polly, and covering her with kisses so tender, that Polly, warmed and cuddled up to her heart's content, was comforted to the full.
 
“Well,” said Mrs. Pepper, when at last she thought she had formed between Polly and Joel about the right idea of the visit, “well, now we won't think of it, ever any more; 'tisn't worth it, Polly, you know.”
 
But poor Polly! and poor mother! They both were obliged to think of it. Nothing could avert the suffering of the next few days, caused by that long flow of burning tears.
 
“Nothing feels good on 'em, mammy,” said Polly, at last, twisting her hands in the vain attempt to keep from rubbing the aching, inflamed eyes that drove her nearly wild with their itching, “there isn't any use in trying anything.”
 
“There will be use,” energetically protested Mrs. Pepper, bringing another cool bandage, “as long as you've got an eye in your head, Polly Pepper!”
 
Dr. Fisher's face, when he first saw the change that the fateful visit had wrought, and heard the accounts, was very grave indeed. Everything had been so encouraging on his last visit, that he had come very near promising Polly speedy freedom from the hateful bandage.
 
But the little Pepper household s............