enough, but Ann saw Hannah go away, and sat down to her spinning with
more fierce defiance in her heart than had ever been there before.
She had been unusually good, too, lately. She always was, during the
three months' schooling, with sober, gentle little Hannah French.

She had been spinning sulkily a while, and it was almost dark, when a
messenger came for her master and mistress to go to Deacon Thomas
Wales', who had been suddenly taken very ill.

Ann would have felt sorry if she had not been so angry. Deacon Wales
was almost as much of a favorite of hers as his wife. As it was, the
principal thing she thought of, after Mr. Wales and his wife had
gone, was that _the key was in the desk_. However it had happened,
there it was. She hesitated a moment. She was all alone in the
kitchen, and her heart was in a tumult of anger, but she had learned
her lessons from the Bible and the New England Primer and she was
afraid of the _sin_. But, at last, she opened the desk, found the
indentures, and hid them in the little pocket which she wore tied
about her waist, under her petticoat.

Then she threw her blanket over her head, and got her poppet out of
the chest. The poppet was a little doll manufactured from a corn-cob,
dressed in an indigo-colored gown. Grandma had made it for her, and
it was her chief treasure. She clasped it tight to her bosom and ran
across lots to Hannah French's.

Hannah saw her coming, and met her at the door.

"I've brought you my poppet," whispered Ann, all breathless, "and you
must keep her always, and not let her work too hard. I'm going away!"