An Old-Fashioned Girl

  CHAPTER X. BROTHERS AND SISTERS

  POLLY'S happiest day was Sunday, for Will never failed to spend it withher. Instead of sleeping later than usual that morning, she was alwaysup bright and early, flying round to get ready for her guest, for Willcame to breakfast, and they made a long day of it. Will considered hissister the best and prettiest girl going, and Polly, knowing well that atime would come when he would find a better and a prettier, was gratefulfor his good opinion, and tried to deserve it. So she made her room andherself as neat and inviting as possible, and always ran to meet himwith a bright face and a motherly greeting, when he came tramping in,ruddy, brisk, and beaming, with the brown loaf and the little pot ofbeans from the bake-house near by.

  They liked a good country breakfast, and nothing gave Polly moresatisfaction than to see her big boy clear the dishes, empty the littlecoffee-pot, and then sit and laugh at her across the ravaged table.Another pleasure was to let him help clear away, as they used to doat home, while the peals of laughter that always accompanied thisperformance did Miss Mills' heart good to hear, for the room was sosmall and Will so big that he seemed to be everywhere at once, and Pollyand Puttel were continually dodging his long arms and legs. Then theyused to inspect the flower pots, pay Nick a visit, and have a littlemusic as a good beginning for the day, after which they went to churchand dined with Miss Mills, who considered Will "an excellent youngman." If the afternoon was fair, they took a long walk together overthe bridges into the country, or about the city streets full of Sabbathquietude. Most people meeting them would have seen only an awkward youngman, with a boy's face atop of his tall body, and a quietly dressed,fresh faced little woman hanging on his arm; but a few people, with eyesto read romances and pleasant histories everywhere, found something veryattractive in this couple, and smiled as they passed, wondering if theywere young, lovers, or country cousins "looking round."

  If the day was stormy, they stayed at home, reading, writing letters,talking over their affairs, and giving each other good advice; for,though Will was nearly three years younger than Polly, he could n't forthe life of him help assuming amusingly venerable airs, when he becamea Freshman. In the twilight he had a good lounge on the sofa, and Pollysung to him, which arrangement he particularly enjoyed, it was so "cosyand homey." At nine o'clock, Polly packed his bag with clean clothes,nicely mended, such remnants of the festive tea as were transportable,and kissed him "good-night," with many injunctions to muffle up histhroat going over the bridge, and be sure that his feet were dryand warm when he went to bed. All of which Will laughed at, acceptedgraciously, and did n't obey; but he liked it, and trudged away foranother week's work, rested, cheered, and strengthened by that quiet,happy day with Polly, for he had been brought up to believe in homeinfluences, and this brother and sister loved one another dearly, andwere not ashamed to own it.

  One other person enjoyed the humble pleasures of these Sundays quite asmuch as Polly and Will. Maud used to beg to come to tea, and Polly, gladto do anything for those who had done a good deal for her, made a pointof calling for the little girl as they came home from their walk, orsending Will to escort her in the carriage, which Maud always managedto secure if bad weather threatened to quench her hopes. Tom and Fannylaughed at her fancy, but she did not tire of it, for the child waslonely, and found something in that little room which the great housecould not give her.

  Maud was twelve now; a pale, plain child, with sharp, intelligent eyes,and a busy little mind, that did a good deal more thinking than anybodyimagined. She was just at the unattractive, fidgety age when no oneknew what to do with her, and so let her fumble her way up as she could,finding pleasure in odd things, and living much alone, for she did notgo to school, because her shoulders were growing round, and Mrs.Shaw would not "allow her figure to be spoiled." That suited Maudexcellently; and whenever her father spoke of sending her again, orgetting a governess, she was seized with bad headaches, a pain in herback, or weakness of the eyes, at which Mr. Shaw laughed, but let herholiday go on. Nobody seemed to care much for plain, pug-nosed littleMaudie; her father was busy, her mother nervous and sick, Fanny absorbedin her own affairs, and Tom regarded her as most young men do theiryounger sisters, as a person born for his amusement and convenience,nothing more. Maud admired Tom with all her heart, and made a littleslave of herself to him, feeling well repaid if he merely said, "Thankyou, chicken," or did n't pinch her nose, or nip her ear, as he had away of doing, "just as if I was a doll, or a dog, and had n't got anyfeelings," she sometimes said to Fanny, when some service or sacrificehad been accepted without gratitude or respect. It never occurred toTom, when Maud sat watching him with her face full of wistfulness, thatshe wanted to be petted as much as ever he did in his neglected boyhood,or that when he called her "Pug" before people, her little feelings wereas deeply wounded as his used to be, when the boys called him "Carrots."He was fond of her in his fashion, but he did n't take the trouble toshow it, so Maud worshipped him afar off, afraid to betray the affectionthat no rebuff could kill or cool.

  One snowy Sunday afternoon Tom lay on the sofa in his favorite attitude,reading "Pendennis" for the fourth time, and smoking like a chimney ashe did so. Maud stood at the window watching the falling flakes with ananxious countenance, and presently a great sigh broke from her.

  "Don't do that again, chicken, or you'll blow me away. What's thematter?" asked Tom, throwing down his book with a yawn that threateneddislocation.

  "I'm afraid I can't go to Polly's," answered Maud, disconsolately.

  "Of course you can't; it's snowing hard, and father won't be homewith the carriage till this evening. What are you always cutting off toPolly's for?"

  "I like it; we have such nice times, and Will is there, and we bakelittle johnny-cakes in the baker before the fire, and they sing, and itis so pleasant."

  "Warbling johnny-cakes must be interesting. Come and tell me all aboutit."

  "No, you'll only laugh at me."

  "I give you my word I won't, if I can help it; but I really am dying ofcuriosity to know what you do down there. You like to hear secrets, sotell me yours, and I'll be as dumb as an oyster."

  "It is n't a secret, and you would n't care for it. Do you want anotherpillow?" she added, as Tom gave his a thump.

  "This will do; but why you women always stick tassels and fringe allover a sofa-cushion, to tease and tickle a fellow, is what I don'tunderstand."

  "One thing that Polly does Sunday nights, is to take Will's head in herlap, and smooth his forehead. It rests him after studying so hard, shesays. If you don't like the pillow, I could do that for you,'cause youlook as if you were more tired of studying than Will," said Maud, withsome hesitation, but an evident desire to be useful and agreeable.

  "Well, I don't care if you do try it, for I am confoundedly tired." AndTom laughed, as he recalled the frolic he had been on the night before.

  Maud established herself with great satisfaction, and Tom owned that asilk apron was nicer than a fuzzy cushion.

  "Do you like it?" she asked, after a few strokes over the hot forehead,which she thought was fevered by intense application to Greek and Latin.

  "Not bad; play away," was the gracious reply, as Tom shut his eyes,and lay so still that Maud was charmed at the success of her attempt.Presently, she said, softly, "Tom, are you asleep?"

  "Just turning the corner."

  "Before you get quite round would you please tell me what a PublicAdmonition is?"

  "What do you want to know for?" demanded Tom, opening his eyes verywide.

  "I heard Will talking about Publics and Privates, and I meant to askhim, but I forgot."

  "What did he say?"

  "I don't remember; it was about somebody who cut prayers, and gota Private, and had done all sorts of bad things, and had one or twoPublics. I did n't hear the name and did n't care; I only wanted to knowwhat the words meant."

  "So Will tells tales, does he?" and Tom's forehead wrinkled with afrown.

  "No, he did n't; Polly knew ab
out it and asked him."

  "Will's a'dig,'" growled Tom, shutting his eyes again, as if nothingmore could be said of the delinquent William.

  "I don't care if he is; I like him very much, and so does Polly."

  "Happy Fresh!" said Tom, with a comical groan.

  "You need n't sniff at him, for he is nice, and treats me with respect,"cried Maud, with an energy that made Tom laugh in her face.

  "He's good to Polly always, and puts on her cloak for her, and says'mydear,' and kisses her'good-night,' and don't think it's silly, and Iwish I had a brother just like him, yes, I do!" And Maud showed signs ofwoe, for her disappointment about going was very great.

  "Bless my boots! what's the chicken ruffling up her little feathers andpecking at me for? Is that the way Polly soothes the best of brothers?"said Tom, still laughing.

  "Oh, I forgot! there, I won't cry; but I do want to go," and Maudswallowed her tears, and began to stroke again.

  Now Tom's horse and sleigh were in the stable, for he meant to drive outto College that evening, but he did n't take Maud's hint. It was lesstrouble to lie still, and say in a conciliatory tone, "Tell me some moreabout this good boy, it's very interesting."

  "No, I shan't, but I'll tell about Puttel's playing on the piano," saidMaud, anxious to efface the memory of her momentary weakness. "Pollypoints to the right key with a little stick, and Puttel sits on thestool and pats each key as it's touched, and it makes a tune. It'sso funny to see her, and Nick perches on the rack and sings as if he'dkill himself."

  "Very thrilling," said Tom, in a sleepy tone.

  Maud felt that her conversation was not as interesting as she hoped, andtried again.

  "Polly thinks you are handsomer than Mr. Sydney."

  "Much obliged."

  "I asked which she thought had the nicest face, and she said yours wasthe handsomest, and his the best."

  "Does he ever go there?" asked a sharp voice behind them; and lookinground Maud saw Fanny in the big chair, cooking her feet over theregister.

  "I never saw him there; he sent up some books one day, and Will teasedher about it."

  "What did she do?" demanded Fanny. "Oh, she shook him."

  "What a spectacle!" and Tom looked as if he would have enjoyed seeingit, but Fanny's face grew so forbidding, that Tom's little dog, who wasapproaching to welcome her, put his tail between his legs and fled underthe table.

  "Then there is n't any 'Sparking Sunday night'?" sung Tom, who appearedto have waked up again.

  "Of course not. Polly is n't going to marry anybody; she's going tokeep house for Will when he's a minister, I heard her say so," criedMaud, with importance.

  "What a fate for pretty Polly!" ejaculated Tom.

  "She likes it, and I'm sure I should think she would; it's beautifulto hear'em plan it all out."

  "Any more gossip to retail, Pug?" asked Tom a minute after, as Maudseemed absorbed in visions of the future.

  "He told a funny story about blowing up one of the professors. Younever told us, so I suppose you did n't know it. Some bad fellow put atorpedo, or some sort of powder thing, under the chair, and it went offin the midst of the lesson, and the poor man flew up, frightened mostto pieces, and the boys ran with pails of water to put the fire out. Butthe thing that made Will laugh most was, that the very fellow who did itgot his trousers burnt trying to put out the fire, and he asked the isit Faculty or President?"

  "Either will do," murmured Tom, who was shaking with suppressedlaughter.

  "Well, he asked'em to give him some new ones, and they did give himmoney enough, for a nice pair; but he got some cheap ones, with horridgreat stripes on'em, and always wore'em to that particular class,'which was one too many for the fellows,' Will said, and with the restof the money he had a punch party. Was n't it dreadful?"

  "Awful!" And Tom exploded into a great laugh, that made Fanny cover herears, and the little dog bark wildly.

  "Did you know that bad boy?" asked innocent Maud.

  "Slightly," gasped Tom, in whose wardrobe at college those identicaltrousers were hanging at that moment.

  "Don't make such a noise, my head aches dreadfully," said Fanny,fretfully.

  "Girls' heads always do ache," answered Tom, subsiding from a roar intoa chuckle.

  "What pleasure you boys can find in such ungentlemanly things, I don'tsee," said Fanny, who was evidently out of sorts.

  "As much a mystery to you as it is to us, how you girls can like togabble and prink from one week's end to the other," retorted Tom.

  There was a pause after this little passage-at-arms, but Fan wanted tobe amused, for time hung heavily on her hands, so she asked, in a moreamiable tone, "How's Trix?"

  "As sweet as ever," answered Tom, gruffly.

  "Did she scold you, as usual?"

  "She just did."

  "What was the matter?"

  "Well, I'll leave it to you if this is n't unreasonable: she won'tdance with me herself, yet don't like me to go it with anybody else. Isaid, I thought, if a fellow took a girl to a party, she ought to dancewith him once, at least, especially if they were engaged. She said thatwas the very reason why she should n't do it; so, at the last hop, I lether alone, and had a gay time with Belle, and to-day Trix gave it to mehot and heavy, coming home from church."

  "If you go and engage yourself to a girl like that, I don't know whatyou can expect. Did she wear her Paris hat to-day?" added Fan, withsudden interest in her voice.

  "She wore some sort of a blue thing, with a confounded bird of Paradisein it, that kept whisking into my face every time she turned her head."

  "Men never know a pretty thing when they see it. That hat is perfectlylovely."

  "They know a lady when they see her, and Trix don't look like one; Ican't say where the trouble is, but there's too much fuss and feathersfor my taste. You are twice as stylish, yet you never look loud orfast."

  Touched by this unusual compliment, Fanny drew her chair nearer as shereplied with complacency, "Yes, I flatter myself I do know how to dresswell. Trix never did; she's fond of gay colors, and generally lookslike a walking rainbow."

  "Can't you give her a hint? Tell her not to wear blue gloves anyway, sheknows I hate'em."

  "I've done my best for your sake, Tom, but she is a perverse creature,and don't mind a word I say, even about things much more objectionablethan blue gloves."

  "Maudie, run and bring me my other cigar case, it's lying roundsomewhere."

  Maud went; and as soon as the door was shut, Tom rose on his elbow,saying in a cautiously lowered voice, "Fan, does Trix paint?"

  "Yes, and draws too," answered Fanny, with a sly laugh.

  "Come, you know what I mean; I've a right to ask and you ought totell," said Tom, soberly, for he was beginning to find that beingengaged was not unmitigated bliss.

  "What makes you think she does?"

  "Well, between ourselves," said Tom, looking a little sheepish, butanxious to set his mind at rest, "she never will let me kiss her on hercheek, nothing but an unsatisfactory peck at her lips. Then theother day, as I took a bit of heliotrope out of a vase to put in mybutton-hole, I whisked a drop of water into her face; I was going towipe it off, but she pushed my hand away, and ran to the glass, whereshe carefully dabbed it dry, and came back with one cheek redder thanthe other. I did n't say anything, but I had my suspicions. Come now,does she?"

  "Yes, she does; but don't say a word to her, for she'll never forgivemy telling if she knew it."

  "I don't care for that; I don't like it, and I won't have it," said Tom,decidedly.

  "You can't help yourself. Half the girls do it, either paint or powder,darken their lashes with burnt hair-pins, or take cologne on lumps ofsugar or belladonna to make their eyes bright. Clara tried arsenic forher complexion, but her mother stopped it," said Fanny, betraying thesecrets of the prison-house in the basest manner.

  "I knew you girls were a set of humbugs, and very pretty ones, too,some of you, but I can't say I like to see you painted up like a lot of
actresses," said Tom, with an air of disgust.

  "I don't do anything of the sort, or need it, but Trix does; and havingchosen her, you must abide your choice, for better or worse."

  "It has n't come to that yet," muttered Tom, as he lay down again with arebellious air.

  Maud's return put an end to these confidences, though Tom excited hercuriosity by asking the mysterious question, "I say, Fan, is Polly up tothat sort of thing?"

  "No, she thinks it's awful. When she gets pale and dragged out she willprobably change her mind."

  "I doubt it," said Tom.

  "Polly says it is n't proper to talk secrets before people who ain't in'em," observed Maud, with dignity.

  "Do, for mercy sake, stop talking about Polly, I'm sick to death ofit," cried Fanny, snappishly.

  "Hullo!" and Tom sat up to take a survey. "I thought you were bosomfriends, and as spoony as ever."

  "Well, I am fond of Polly, but I get tired of hearing Maud sing herpraises everlastingly. Now don't go and repeat that, chatterbox."

  "My goodness, is n't she cross?" whispered Maud to Tom.

  "As two sticks; let her be. There's the bell; see who it is, Pug,"answered Tom, as a tingle broke the silence of the house.

  Maud went to peep over the banisters, and came flying back in a rapture.

  "It's Will come for me! Can't I go? It don't snow hard, and I'llbundle up, and you can send for me when papa comes."

  "I don't care what you do," answered Fan, who was in a very bad temper.

  Without waiting for any other permission, Maud rushed away to get ready.Will would n't come up, he was so snowy, and Fanny was glad, becausewith her he was bashful, awkward, and silent, so Tom went down andentertained him with Maud's report. They were very good friends, but ledentirely different lives, Will being a "dig," and Tom a "bird," or,in plain English, one was a hard student, and the other a jolly younggentleman. Tom had rather patronized Will, who did n't like it, andshowed that he did n't by refusing to borrow money of him, or acceptany of his invitations to join the clubs and societies to which Tombelonged. So Shaw let Milton alone, and he got on very well in his ownway, doggedly sticking to his books, and resisting all temptationsbut those of certain libraries, athletic games, and such inexpensivepleasures as were within his means; for this benighted youth had not yetdiscovered that college nowadays is a place in which to "sky-lark," notto study.

  When Maud came down and trotted contentedly away, holding Will'shand, Tom watched them out of sight, and then strolled about the housewhistling and thinking, till he went to sleep in his father's arm-chair,for want of something better to do. He awoke to the joys of a solitarytea, for his mother never came down, and Fanny shut herself and herheadache up in her own room.

  "Well, this is cheerful," he said, as the clock struck eight, and hisfourth cigar came to an end. "Trix is mad, and Fan in the dumps, so I'll take myself off. Guess I'll go round to Polly's, and ask Will todrive out with me, and save him the walk, poor chap. Might bring Midgethome, it will please her, and there's no knowing when the governor willbe back."

  With these thoughts in his head, Tom leisurely got under way, and lefthis horse at a neighboring stable, for he meant to make a little call,and see what it was Maud enjoyed so much.

  "Polly is holding forth," he said to himself, as he went quietly upstairs, and the steady murmur of a pleasant voice came down to him. Tomlaughed at Polly's earnest way of talking when she was interestedin anything. But he liked it because it was so different from thecoquettish clatter of most of the girls with whom he talked. Young menoften laugh at the sensible girls whom they secretly respect, andaffect to admire the silly ones whom they secretly despise, becauseearnestness, intelligence, and womanly dignity are not the fashion.

  The door was ajar, and pausing in the dark entry Tom took a surveybefore he went in. The prospect was not dazzling, but home-like andpleasant. The light of a bright fire filled the little room, and downon a stool before it was Maud tending Puttel, and watching with deepinterest the roasting of an apple intended for her special benefit. Onthe couch lounged Will, his thoughtful eyes fixed on Polly, who, whileshe talked, smoothed the broad forehead of her "yellow-haired laddie"in a way that Tom thought an immense improvement on Maud's performance.They had evidently been building castles in the air, for Polly wassaying in her most impressive manner, "Well, whatever you do, Will,don't have a great, costly church that takes so much money to buildand support it that you have nothing to give away. I like the plain,old-fashioned churches, built for use, not show, where people met forhearty praying and preaching, and where everybody made their own musicinstead of listening to opera singers, as we do now. I don't care ifthe old churches were bare and cold, and the seats hard, there was realpiety in them, and the sincerity of it was felt in the lives of thepeople. I don't want a religion that I put away with my Sunday clothes,and don't take out till the day comes round again; I want something tosee and feel and live by day-by-day, and I hope you'll be one of thetrue ministers, who can teach by precept and example, how to get andkeep it."

  "I hope I shall be, Polly, but you know they say that in families, ifthere is a boy who can't do anything else, they make a minister of him.I sometimes think I ain't good for much, and that seems to me the reasonwhy I should n't even try to be a minister," said Will, smiling, yetlooking as if with all his humility he did have faith in the aspirationsthat came to him in his best moments.

  "Some one said that very thing to father once, and I remember heanswered, 'I am glad to give my best and brightest son to the service ofGod.'"

  "Did he say that?" and Will's color rose, for the big, book-lovingfellow was as sensitive as a girl to the praise of those dearest to him.

  "Yes," said Polly, unconsciously giving the strongest stimulus to herbrother's hope and courage. "Yes, and he added, 'I shall let my boysfollow the guide that is in them, and only ask of them to use theirgifts conscientiously, and be honest, useful men.'"

  "So we will! Ned is doing well out West, and I'm hard at it here. Iffather does his best to give us the chance we each want, the least wecan do is to work with a will."

  "Whatever you do, you can't help working with a Will," cried Tom, whohad been so interested, that he forgot he was playing eavesdropper.

  Polly flew up, looking so pleased and surprised, that Tom reproachedhimself for not having called oftener.

  "I've come for Maud," he announced, in a paternal tone, which made thatyoung lady open her eyes.

  "I can't go till my apple is done; besides, it is n't nine yet, and Willis going to take me along, when he goes. I'd rather have him."

  "I'm going to take you both in the cutter. The storm is over, but it isheavy walking, so you'll drive out with me, old man?" said Tom, with anod at Will.

  "Of course he will; and thank you very much. I've been trying to keephim all night; Miss Mills always manages to find a corner for straypeople, but he insists on going, so as to get to work early to-morrow,"said Polly, delighted to see that Tom was taking off his coat, as if hemeant to wait for Maud's apple, which Polly blessed for being so slow tocook.

  Putting her guest into the best chair, Polly sat down and beamed at himwith such hospitable satisfaction, that Tom went up several pegs in hisown estimation.

  "You don't come very often, so we are rather over-powered when you dohonor us," she said, demurely.

  "Well, you, know we fellows are so busy, we have n't much time to enjoyourselves," answered Tom.

  "Ahem!" said Will, loudly.

  "Take a troche," said Tom.

  Then they both burst out laughing, and Polly, fully understandingthe joke, joined them, saying, "Here are some peanuts, Tom; do enjoyyourself while you can."

  "Now I call that a delicate compliment!" And Tom, who had not lost hisearly relish for this sort of refreshment, though he seldom indulgedhis passion nowadays, because peanuts are considered vulgar, fell tocracking and munching with great satisfaction.

  "Do you remember the first visit I made at your house,
how you gaveme peanuts, coming from the depot, and frightened me out of my wits,pretending the coachman was tipsy?" asked Polly.

  "Of course I do, and how we coasted one day," answered Tom, laughing.

  "Yes, and the velocipede; you've got the scar of that yet, I see."

  "I remember how you stood by me while it was sewed up; that was veryplucky, Polly."

  "I was dreadfully afraid, but I remember I wanted to seem very brave,because you'd called me a coward."

  "Did I? Ought to have been ashamed of myself. I used to rough youshamefully, Polly, and you were so good-natured, you let me do it."

  "Could n't help myself," laughed Polly. "I did use to think you were anawful boy, but seems to me I rather liked it."

  "She had so much of it at home, she got used to it," put in Will,pulling the little curl behind Polly's ear.

  "You boys never teased me as Tom did, that's the reason it amused me, Isuppose; novelty hath charms, you know."

  "Grandma used to lecture Tom for plaguing you, Polly, and he used to sayhe'd be a tip-top boy, but he was n't," observed Maud, with a venerableair.

  "Dear old grandma; she did her best, but I'm a bad lot," said Tom, witha shake of the head and a sober face.

  "It always seems as if she must be up in her rooms, and I can't get usedto finding them empty," added Polly, softly.

  "Father would n't have anything moved, and Tom sits up there sometimes;it makes him feel good, he says," said Maud, who had a talent forbetraying trifles which people preferred should not be mentioned inpublic.

  "You'd better hurry up your apple, for if it is n't done pretty soon,you'll have to leave it, Pug," said Tom, looking annoyed.

  "How is Fan?" asked Polly, with tact.

  "Well, Fan is rather under the weather; says she's dyspeptic, whichmeans cross."

  "She is cross, but she's sick too, for I found her crying one day, andshe said nobody cared about her, and she might as well be dead," addedMaud, having turned her apple with tender care.

  "We must try to cheer her up, among us. If I was n't so busy I'd liketo devote myself to her, she has done so much for me," said Polly,gratefully.

  "I wish you could. I can't understand her, for she acts like aweathercock, and I never know how I'm going to find her. I hate to haveher mope so, but, upon my life, I don't know what to do," said Tom; butas he uttered the words, something was suggested by the sight beforehim. Chairs were few, and Polly had taken half of Will's when they drewround the fire. Now she was leaning against him, in a cosy, confidingway, delightful to behold, while Will's strong arm went round her witha protecting air, which said, as plainly as any words, that this bigbrother and small sister knew how to love and help one another. It was apleasant little picture, all the pleasanter for its unconsciousness, andTom found it both suggestive and agreeable.

  "Poor old Fan, she don't get much petting; maybe that's what she wants.I'll try it and see, for she stands by me like a trump. If she wasa rosy, cosy little woman, like Polly, it would come easier, though,"thought Tom, as he meditatively ate his last nut, feeling that fraternalaffection could not be very difficult of demonstration, to brothersblessed with pretty, good-tempered sisters.

  "I told Tom about the bad fellow who blew up the professor, and he saidhe knew him, slightly; and I was so relieved, because I had a kind of afeeling that it was Tom himself, you and Will laughed so about it."

  Maud had a queer way of going on with her own thoughts, and suddenlycoming out with whatever lay uppermost, regardless of time, place, orcompany. As this remark fell from her, there was a general smile, andPolly said, with mock solemnity, "It was a sad thing, and I've no doubtthat misguided young man is very sorry for it now."

  "He looked perfectly bowed down with remorse last time I saw him," saidWill, regarding Tom with eyes full of fun, for Will was a boy as well asa bookworm, and relished a joke as well as scatter-brained Tom.

  "He always is remorseful after a scrape, I've understood, for he is n'ta very bad fellow, only his spirits are one too many for him, and he isn't as fond of his book as another fellow I know."

  "I'm afraid he'll he expelled if he don't mind," said Polly,warningly.

  "Should n't wonder if he was, he's such an unlucky dog," answered Tom,rather soberly.

  "I hope he'll remember that his friends will be very much disappointedif he is. He might make them so proud and happy; that I guess he will,for he is n't half as thoughtless as he makes himself out," said Polly,looking across at Tom with such friendly eyes that he was quite touched,though of course he did n't show it.

  "Thank you, Polly; he may pull through, but I have my doubts. Now oldman, let us'pud' along; it's getting late for the chicken," he added,relapsing into the graceful diction with which a classical educationgifts its fortunate possessor.

  Taking advantage of the moment while Will was wrestling with his bootsin the closet, and Maud was absorbed in packing her apple into a largebasket, Polly said to Tom in a low tone, "Thank you very much, for beingso kind to Will."

  "Bless your heart, I have n't done anything; he's such a proud fellowhe won't let me," answered Tom.

  "But you do in many little ways; to-night, for example. Do you thinkI don't know that the suit of clothes he's just got would have cost agood deal more, if your tailor had n't made them? He's only a boy,and don't understand things yet; but I know your way of helping proudpeople; so that they don't find it out, and I do thank you, Tom, somuch."

  "Oh, come, Polly, that won't do. What do you know about tailors andcollege matters?" said Tom, looking as much confused as if she had foundhim out in something reprehensible.

  "I don't know much, and that's the reason why I'm grateful for yourkindness to Will. I don't care what stories they tell about you, I'msure, you won't lead him into trouble, but keep him straight, for mysake. You know I've lost one brother, and Will takes Jimmy's place tome now."

  The tears in Polly's eyes as she said that made Tom vow a tremendous vowwithin himself to stand by Will through thick and thin, and "keep himstraight for Polly's sake"; feeling all the time how ill-fitted he wasfor such a task.

  "I'll do my best," he said, heartily, as he pressed the hand Polly gavehim, with a look which assured her that he felt the appeal to his honor,and that henceforth the country lad was safe from all the temptationsTom could have offered him.

  "There! now I shall give that to mamma to take her pills in; it'sjust what she likes, and it pleases her to be thought of," said Maud,surveying her gift with complacency, as she put on her things.

  "You're a good little soul, to remember poor mum, said Tom, with anapproving nod.

  "Well, she was so pleased with the grapes you brought her, I thought I'd try something, and maybe she'd say 'Thank you, darling,' to me too.Do you think she will?" whispered Maud, with the wistful look so oftenseen on her little plain face.

  "See if she don't;" and to Maud's great surprise Tom did n't laugh ather project.

  "Good night, dear; take care of yourself, and keep your muffler roundyour mouth going over the bridge, or you'll be as hoarse as a crowto-morrow," said Polly, as she kissed her brother, who returned itwithout looking as if he thought it "girl's nonsense" Then the threepiled into the sleigh and drove off, leave Polly nodding on thedoorstep.

  Maud found the drive altogether too short, but was consoled by thepromise of a longer one if the sleighing lasted till next Saturday: andwhen Tom ran up to bid his mother good-by, and give her a hint aboutMaud's gift, she stayed below to say, at the last minute, in unconsciousimitation of Polly.

  "Good night; take care of yourself, my dear."

  Tom laughed, and was about to pinch the much enduring little nose; but,as if the words reminded him of something, he gave her a kiss instead, apiece of forbearance which almost took Maud's breath away with surpriseand gratification.

  It was rather a silent drive, for Will obediently kept his muffler up,and Tom fell into a brown study.

  He was not much given to reflection, but occasionally indulged when
something gave him a turn in that direction, and at such times he was assober and sincere as could be desired. Any one might have lectured himfor an hour without doing as much good as that little call and the chatthat grew out of it, for, though nothing very wise or witty wassaid, many things were suggested, and every one knows that persuasiveinfluences are better than any amount of moralizing. Neither Polly norWill tried to do anything of the sort, and that was the charm of it.Nobody likes to be talked to, but nobody can resist the eloquence ofunconscious preaching. With all his thoughtlessness, Tom was quick tosee and feel these things, and was not spoilt enough yet to laugh atthem. The sight of Will and Polly's simple affection for one anotherreminded him of a neglected duty so pleasantly, that he could not forgetit. Talking of early days made him wish he could go back and startagain, doing better. Grandma's name recalled the tender memory thatalways did him good, and the thought that Polly trusted her dearestbrother to his care stirred up a manful desire to deserve theconfidence. Tortures would n't have drawn a word of all this from him,but it had its effect, for boys don't leave their hearts and consciencesbehind them when they enter college, and little things of this sort domuch to keep both from being damaged by the four years' scrimmage whichbegins the battle of life for most of them.