"Such a
looking place! Nothing to see but snow and trees," for the
village of Pine Camp was quite surrounded by the forest and all
the visitor could see from the windows of her first-floor bedroom
were stumps and trees, with deep snow everywhere.
There was a glowing wood stove in the room and a big, chintz-
covered box beside it, full of "chunks." It was warm in the
room, the atmosphere being permeated with the sweet tang of wood
smoke.
Nan dried her eyes. There really was not any use in crying.
Momsey and Papa Sherwood could not know how bad she felt, and
she really was not selfish enough to wish them to know.
"Now, Nanny Sherwood!" she scolded herself, "there's not a
particle of use of your sniveling. It won't 'get you anywhere,'
as Mrs. Joyce says. You'll only make your eyes red, and the
folks will see that you're not happy here, and they will be hurt.
"Mustn't make other folks feel bad just because I feel bad
myself," Nan decided. "Come on! Pluck up your courage!
"I know what I'll do," she added, literally shaking herself as
she jumped off the trunk. "I'll unpack. I'll cover up
everything ugly that I can with something pretty from Tillbury."
Hurried as she had been her departure from the cottage on Amity
Street, Nan had packed in her trunk many of those little
possessions, dear to her childish heart, that had graced her
bedroom.
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