CHAPTER XIII. THE SUNNY SIDE
"I'VE won the wager, Tom."
"Did n't know there was one."
"Don't you remember you said Polly would be tired of her teaching andgive it up in three months, and I said she would n't?"
"Well, is n't she?"
"Not a bit of it. I thought she was at one time, and expected every dayto have her come in with a long face, and say she could n't stand it.But somehow, lately, she is always bright and happy, seems to like herwork, and don't have the tired, worried look she used to at first. Thethree months are out, so pay up, Tommy."
"All right, what will you have?"
"You may make it gloves. I always need them, and papa looks sober when Iwant money."
There was a minute's pause as Fan returned to her practising, and Tomrelapsed into the reverie he was enjoying seated astride of a chair,with his chin on his folded arms.
"Seems to me Polly don't come here as often as she used to," he said,presently.
"No, she seems to be very busy; got some new friends, I believe, oldladies, sewing-girls, and things of that sort. I miss her, but know she'll get tired of being goody, and will come back to me before long."
"Don't be too sure of that, ma'am." Something in Tom's tone made Fanturn round, and ask, "What do you mean?"
"Well, it strikes me that Sydney is one of Polly's new friends. Have n'tyou observed that she is uncommonly jolly, and don't that sort of thingaccount for it?"
"Nonsense!" said Fanny, sharply.
"Hope it is," coolly returned Tom.
"What put it into your head?" demanded Fanny, twirling round again sothat her face was hidden.
"Oh, well, I keep meeting Syd and Polly circulating in the samedirections; she looks as if she had found something uncommonly nice, andhe looks as if all creation was getting Pollyfied pretty rapidly. Wonderyou have n't observed it."
"I have."
It was Tom's turn to look surprised now, for Fanny's voice soundedstrange to him. He looked at her steadily for a minute, but saw only arosy ear and a bent head. A cloud passed over his face, and he leanedhis chin on his arm again with a despondent whistle, as he said tohimself, "Poor Fan! Both of us in a scrape at once."
"Don't you think it would be a good thing?" asked Fanny, after playing abar or two, very badly.
"Yes, for Syd."
"Not for Polly? Why, he's rich, and clever, and better than most of yougood-for-nothing fellows. What can the girl expect?"
"Can't say, but I don't fancy the match myself."
"Don't be a dog in the manger, Tom. Bless your little heart, I only takea brotherly sort of interest in Polly. She's a capital girl, and sheought to marry a missionary, or one of your reformer fellows, and bea shining light of some sort. I don't think setting up for a fine ladywould suit her."
"I think it would, and I hope she'll have the chance," said Fanny,evidently making an effort to speak kindly.
"Good for you, Fan!" and Tom gave an emphatic nod, as if her words meantmore than she suspected "Mind you," he added, "I don't know anything,and only fancied there might be some little flirtation going on. But Idare say it's nothing."
"Time will show." Then Fan began to sing, and Tom's horse came, so hedeparted with the very unusual demonstration of a gentle pat on thehead, as he said kindly, "That's right, my dear, keep jolly." It wasn't an elegant way of expressing sympathy, but it was hearty, andFan thanked him for it, though she only said, "Don't break your neck,Tommy."
When he was gone, Fan's song ended as suddenly as it began, and she satthinking, with varying expressions of doubt and trouble passing rapidlyacross her face.
"Well, I can't do anything but wait!" she said, at last, slamming themusic-book together with a desperate look. "Yes, I can," she added, aminute after, "it's Polly's holiday. I can go and see her, and if thereis anything in it I shall find it out."
Fanny dropped her face into her hands, with a little shiver, as she saidthat; then got up, looking as pale and resolute as if going to meet somedreadful doom, and putting on her things, went away to Polly's as fastas her dignity would allow.
Saturday morning was Polly's clearing-up day, and Fan found her with ahandkerchief tied over her head, and a big apron on, just putting thelast touches to the tidy little room, which was as fresh and bright aswater, air, and a pair of hands could make it.
"All ready for company. I'll just whisk off my regimentals, and Polly,the maid, becomes Polly, the missis. It was lovely of you to come early;take off your things. Another new bonnet? you extravagant wretch! How isyour mother and Maudie? It's a nice day, and we'll have a walk, won'twe?"
By the time Polly's welcome was uttered, she had got Fan on the littlesofa beside her, and was smiling at her in such an infectious manner,that Fan could n't help smiling back.
"I came to see what you have been doing with yourself lately. You don'tcome and report, and I got anxious about you," said Fanny, looking intothe clear eyes before her.
"I've been so busy; and I knew you would n't care to hear about mydoings, for they are n't the sort you like," answered Polly.
"Your lessons did n't use to take up all your time. It's my privateopinion that you are taking as well as giving lessons, miss," said Fan,putting on a playfully stern air, to hide her real anxiety.
"Yes, I am," answered Polly, soberly.
"In what? Love?"
A quick color came to Polly's cheeks, as she laughed, and said, lookingaway, "No; friendship and good works."
"Oh, indeed! May I ask who is your teacher?"
"I've more than one; but Miss Mills is head teacher."
"She instructs in good works; who gives the friendship lessons?"
"Such pleasant girls! I wish you knew them, Fan. So clever, andenergetic, and kind, and happy, it always does me good to see them,"cried Polly, with a face full of enthusiasm.
"Is that all?" And Fan gave her a curious look of mingled disappointmentand relief.
"There, I told you my doings would not interest you, and they don't;they sound flat and prosy after your brilliant adventures. Let's changethe subject," said Polly, looking relieved herself.
"Dear me, which of our sweethearts sends us dainty bouquets of violetsso early in the morning?" asked Fanny, suddenly spying the purplecluster in a graceful little vase on the piano.
"He sends me one every week; he knows I love them so," and Polly's eyesturned that way full of pride and pleasure.
"I'd no idea he was so devoted," said Fanny, stooping to smell theflowers, and at the same time read a card that lay near them.
"You need n't plague me about it, now you know it. I never speak ofour fondness for one another, because such things seem silly to otherpeople. Will is n't all that Jimmy was to me; but he tries to be, and Ilove him dearly for it."
"Will?" Fanny's voice quite startled Polly, it was so sharp and sudden,and her face grew red and pale all in a minute, as she upset the littlevase with the start she gave.
"Yes, of course; who did you think I meant?" asked Polly, sopping up thewater before it damaged her piano.
"Never mind; I thought you might be having a quiet little flirtationwith somebody. I feel responsible, you know, because I told your motherI'd look after you. The flowers are all right. My head aches so, Ihardly know what I'm doing this morning."
Fanny spoke fast, and laughed uncomfortably, as she went back to thesofa, wondering if Polly had told her a lie. Polly seemed to guess ather thoughts as she saw the card, and turning toward her, she held itup, saying, with a conscious look in her eyes, "You thought Mr. Sydneysent them? Well, you are mistaken, and the next time you want to knowanything, please ask straight out. I like it better than talking atcross purposes."
"Now, my dear, don't be angry; I was only teasing you in fun. Tom tookit into his foolish head that something was going on, and I felt anatural interest, you know."
"Tom! What does he know or care about my affairs?" demanded Polly.
"He met you two in the street pretty often, an
d being in a sentimentalmood himself, got up a romance for you and Sydney."
"I'm much obliged to him for his interest, but it's quite wasted,thank you."
Fan's next proceeding gave her friend another surprise, for, beingrather ashamed of herself, very much relieved, and quite at a loss whatto say, she took refuge in an hysterical fit of tears, which changedPolly's anger into tenderness at once.
"Is that the trouble she has been hiding all winter? Poor dear, I wishI'd known it sooner," thought Polly, as she tried to soothe her withcomfortable pats, sniffs of cologne and sympathizing remarks upon thesubject of headache, carefully ignoring that other feminine affliction,the heartache.
"There, I feel better. I've been needing a good cry for some time, andnow I shall be all right. Never mind it, Polly, I'm nervous and tired;I've danced too much lately, and dyspepsia makes me blue;" and Fannywiped her eyes and laughed.
"Of course it does; you need rest and petting, and here I've beenscolding you, when I ought to have been extra kind. Now tell me what Ican do for you," said Polly, with a remorseful face.
"Talk to me, and tell me all about yourself. You don't seem to have asmany worries as other people. What's the secret, Polly?" And Fan lookedup with wet eyes, and a wistful face at Polly, who was putting littledabs of cologne all over her head.
"Well," said Polly, slowly, "I just try to look on the bright side ofthings; that helps one amazingly. Why, you've no idea how much goodnessand sunshine you can get out of the most unpromising things, if you makethe best of them."
"I don't know how," said Fan, despondently.
"You can learn; I did. I used to croak and fret dreadfully, and get sounhappy, I was n't fit for anything. I do it still more than I ought,but I try not to, and it gets easier, I find. Get a-top of yourtroubles, and then they are half cured, Miss Mills says."
"Everything is so contrary and provoking," said Fanny, petulantly.
"Now what in the world have you to fret about?" asked Polly, ratheranxiously.
"Quantities of things," began Fan, and then stopped, for somehow shefelt ashamed to own that she was afflicted because she could n't havea new set of furs, go to Paris in the spring, and make Mr. Sydney loveher. She hunted up something more presentable, and said in a despairingtone, "Well, mother is very poorly, Tom and Trix quarrel all the time,Maud gets more and more wilful every day, and papa is worried about hisaffairs."
"A sad state of things, but nothing very desperate. Can't you lend ahand anywhere? That might do good all round."
"No; I have n't the talent for managing people, but I see what ought tobe done."
"Well, don't wail about it; keep yourself happy, if you can; it willhelp other people to see you cheerful."
"Just what Tom said,'Keep jolly'; but, dear me, how can one, wheneverything is so stupid and tiresome?"
"If ever a girl needed work, it's you!" cried Polly. "You began to bea young lady so early, that you are tired of everything at twenty-two. Iwish you'd go at something, then you'd find how much talent and energyyou really had."
"I know ever so many girls who are just like me, sick to death offashionable life but don't know what to take in its place. I'd like totravel; but papa says he can't afford it, so I can only drag about andget on as I may."
"I pity you rich girls so much, you have so many opportunities, anddon't seem to know how to use them! I suppose I should do just the samein your place, but it seems now as if I could be very happy and usefulwith plenty of money."
"You are that without it. There, I won't croak any more. Let us go andtake a good walk, and don't you tell any one how I came and cried like ababy."
"Never!" said Polly, putting on her bonnet.
"I ought to go and make calls," said Fanny, "but I don't feel now as ifI ever wanted to see any of the girls again. Dreadful state of mind, isn't it?"
"Suppose you come and see some of my friends instead! They are not fineor ceremonious, but lively, odd, and pleasant. Come, it will amuse you."
"I will," cried Fanny, whose spirits seemed improved by the shower."Nice little old lady, is n't she?" added Fan, as she caught sight ofMiss Mills, on their way out, sitting at a table piled with work, andsewing away with an energy that made the gray curls vibrate.
"Saint Mehitable, I call her. Now, there is a rich woman who knew how toget happiness out of her money," said Polly, as they walked away. "Shewas poor till she was nearly fifty; then a comfortable fortune was lefther, and she knew just how to use it. That house was given her, butinstead of living in it all alone, she filled it with poor gentlefolkswho needed neat, respectable homes, but could n't get anythingcomfortable for their little money. I'm one of them, and I know theworth of what she does for me. Two old widow ladies live below me,several students overhead, poor Mrs. Kean and her lame boy have the backparlor, and Jenny the little bedroom next Miss Mills. Each pays whatthey can; that's independent, and makes us feel better but that dearwoman does a thousand things that money can't pay for, and we feel herinfluence all through the house. I'd rather be married, and have a homeof my own; but next to that, I should like to be an old maid like MissMills."
Polly's sober face and emphatic tone made Fanny laugh, and at the cheerysound a young girl pushing a baby-carriage looked round and smiled.
"What lovely eyes!" whispered Fanny.
"Yes, that's little Jane," returned Polly, adding, when she had passed,with a nod and a friendly "Don't get tired, Jenny," "we help one anotherat our house, and every fine morning Jenny takes Johnny Kean out whenshe goes for her own walk. That gives his mother time to rest, does boththe children good, and keeps things neighborly. Miss Mills suggested it,and Jenny is so glad to do anything for anybody, it's a pleasure to lether."
"I've heard of Miss Mills before. But I should think she would gettired to death, sitting there making hoods and petticoats day afterday," said Fanny, after thinking over Jenny's story for a few minutes,for seeing the girl seemed to bring it nearer, and make it more real toher.
"But she don't sit there all the time. People come to her with theirtroubles, and she goes to them with all sorts of help, from soap andsoup, to shrouds for the dead and comfort for the living. I go with hersometimes, and it is more exciting than any play, to see and hear thelives and stories of the poor."
"How can you bear the dreadful sights and sounds, the bad air, and thepoverty that can't be cured?"
"But it is n't all dreadful. There are good and lovely things amongthem, if one only has eyes to see them. It makes me grateful andcontented, shows me how rich I am, and keeps me ready to do all I canfor these poor souls."
"My good Polly!" and Fanny gave her friends arm an affectionate squeeze,wondering if it was this alone that had worked the change in Polly.
"You have seen two of my new friends, Miss Mills and Jenny, now I'llshow you two more," said Polly, presently, as they reached a door, andshe led the way up several flights of public stairs. "Rebecca Jeffreyis a regularly splendid girl, full of talent; she won't let us call itgenius; she will be famous some day, I know, she is so modest, and yetso intent on her work. Lizzie Small is an engraver, and designs the mostdelightful little pictures. Becky and she live together, and take careof one another in true Damon and Pythias style. This studio is theirhome, they work, eat, sleep, and live here, going halves in everything.They are all alone in the world, but as happy and independent as birds;real friends, whom nothing will part."
"Let a lover come between them, and their friendship won't last long,"said Fanny.
"I think it will. Take a look at them, and you'll change your mind,"answered Polly, tapping at a door, on which two modest cards weretacked.
"Come in!" said a voice, and obeying, Fanny found herself in a large,queerly furnished room, lighted from above, and occupied by two girls.One stood before a great clay figure, in a corner. This one was tall,with a strong face, keen eyes, short, curly hair, and a fine head.Fanny was struck at once by this face and figure, though the one wasnot handsome, and the other half hidden by a great
pinafore covered withclay. At a table where the light was clearest, sat a frail-looking girl,with a thin face, big eyes, and pale hair, a dreamy, absorbed littleperson, who bent over a block, skillfully wielding her tools.
"Becky and Bess, how do you do? This is my friend, Fanny Shaw. We areout on a rampage; so go on with your work, and let us lazy ones look onand admire."
As Polly spoke, both girls looked up and nodded, smilingly; Bess gaveFan the one easy-chair; Becky took an artistic survey of the new-comer,with eyes that seemed to see everything; then each went on with herwork, and all began to talk.
"You are just what I want, Polly. Pull up your sleeve, and give me anarm while you sit; the muscles here are n't right, and you've got justwhat I want," said Becky, slapping the round arm of the statue, at whichFan was gazing with awe.
"How do you get on?" asked Polly, throwing off her cloak, and rolling upher sleeves, as if going to washing.
"Slowly. The idea is working itself clear, and I follow as fast as myhands can. Is the face better, do you think?" said Becky, taking off awet cloth, and showing the head of the statue.
"How beautiful it is!" cried Fanny, staring at it with increasedrespect.
"What does it mean to you?" asked Rebecca, turning to her with a suddenshine in her keen eyes.
"I don't know whether it is meant for a saint or a muse, a goddess or afate; but to me it is only a beautiful woman, bigger, lovelier, and moreimposing than any woman I ever saw," answered Fanny, slowly, trying toexpress the impression the statue made upon her.
Rebecca smiled brightly, and Bess looked round to nod approvingly, butPolly clapped her hands, and said, "Well done, Fan! I did n't think you'd get the idea so well, but you have, and I'm proud of your insight.Now I'll tell you, for Becky will let me, since you have paid her thecompliment of understanding her work. Some time ago we got into a famoustalk about what women should be, and Becky said she'd show us her ideaof the coming woman. There she is, as you say, bigger, lovelier, andmore imposing than any we see nowadays; and at the same time, she isa true woman. See what a fine forehead, yet the mouth is both firmand tender, as if it could say strong, wise things, as well as teachchildren and kiss babies. We could n't decide what to put in the handsas the most appropriate symbol. What do you say?"
"Give her a sceptre: she would make a fine queen," answered Fanny.
"No, we have had enough of that; women have been called queens a longtime, but the kingdom given them is n't worth ruling," answered Rebecca.
"I don't think it is nowadays," said Fanny, with a tired sort of sigh.
"Put a man's hand in hers to help her along, then," said Polly, whosehappy fortune it had been to find friends and helpers in father andbrothers.
"No; my woman is to stand alone, and help herself," said Rebecca,decidedly.
"She's to be strong-minded, is she?" and Fanny's lip curled a little asshe uttered the misused words.
"Yes, strong-minded, strong-hearted, strong-souled, and strong-bodied;that is why I made her larger than the miserable, pinched-up woman ofour day. Strength and beauty must go together. Don't you think thesebroad shoulders can bear burdens without breaking down, these hands workwell, these eyes see clearly, and these lips do something besides simperand gossip?"
Fanny was silent; but a voice from Bess's corner said, "Put a child inher arms, Becky."
"Not that even, for she is to be something more than a nurse."
"Give her a ballot-box," cried a new voice, and turning round, they sawan odd-looking woman perched on a sofa behind them.
"Thank you for the suggestion, Kate. I'll put that with the othersymbols at her feet; for I'm going to have needle, pen, palette,and broom somewhere, to suggest the various talents she owns, and theballot-box will show that she has earned the right to use them. Howgoes it?" and Rebecca offered a clay-daubed hand, which the new-comercordially shook.
"Great news, girls! Anna is going to Italy!" cried Kate, tossing up herbonnet like a school-boy.
"Oh, how splendid! Who takes her? Has she had a fortune left her? Tellall about it," exclaimed the girls, gathering round the speaker.
"Yes, it is splendid; just one of the beautiful things that doeseverybody heaps of good, it is so generous and so deserved. You knowAnna has been longing to go; working and hoping for a chance, and nevergetting it, till all of a sudden Miss Burton is inspired to invite thegirl to go with her for several years to Italy. Think of the luck ofthat dear soul, the advantages she'll have, the good it will do her,and, best of all, the lovely way in which it comes to her. Miss Burtonwants, her as a friend, asks nothing of her but her company, and Annawill go through fire and water for her, of course. Now, is n't thatfine?"
It was good to see how heartily these girls sympathized in theircomrade's good fortune. Polly danced all over the room, Bess and Beckyhugged one another, and Kate laughed with her eyes full, while evenFanny felt a glow of, pride and pleasure at the kind act.
"Who is that?" she whispered to Polly, who had subsided into a corner.
"Why, it Is Kate King, the authoress. Bless me, how rude not tointroduce you! Here, my King, is an admirer of yours, Fanny Shaw, andmy well beloved friend," cried Polly, presenting Fan, who regarded theshabby young woman with as much respect, as if she had been arrayed invelvet and ermine; for Kate had written a successful book by accident,and happened to be the fashion, just then.
"It's time for lunch, girls, and I brought mine along with me, it'sso much jollier to eat in sisterhood. Let's club together, and have arevel," said Kate, producing a bag of oranges, and several big, plummybuns.
"We've got sardines, crackers, and cheese," said Bess, clearing off atable with all speed.
"Wait a bit, and I'll add my share," cried Polly, and catching up hercloak, she ran off to the grocery store near by.
"You'll be shocked at our performances, Miss Shaw, but you can callit a picnic, and never tell what dreadful things you saw us do," saidRebecca, polishing a paint knife by rubbing it up and down in a pot ofivy, while Kate spread forth the feast in several odd plates, and a flatshell or two.
"Let us have coffee to finish off with; put on the pot, Bess, and skimthe milk," added Becky, as she produced cups, mugs, and a queer littlevase, to supply drinking vessels for the party.
"Here's nuts, a pot of jam, and some cake. Fan likes sweet things,and we want to be elegant when we have company," said Polly, flying inagain, and depositing her share on the table.
"Now, then, fall to, ladies, and help yourselves. Never mind if thechina don't hold out; take the sardines by their little tails, and wipeyour fingers on my brown-paper napkins," said Kate, setting the examplewith such a relish, that the others followed it in a gale of merriment.
Fanny had been to many elegant lunches, but never enjoyed one more thanthat droll picnic in the studio; for there was a freedom about it thatwas charming, an artistic flavor to everything, and such a spirit ofgood-will and gayety, that she felt at home at once. As they ate, theothers talked and she listened, finding it as interesting as any romanceto hear these young women discuss their plans, ambitions, successes, anddefeats. It was a new world to her, and they seemed a different raceof creatures from the girls whose lives were spent in dress, gossip,pleasure, or ennui. They were girls still, full of spirits fun, andyouth; but below the light-heartedness each cherished a purpose,which seemed to ennoble her womanhood, to give her a certain power,a sustaining satisfaction, a daily stimulus, that led her on to dailyeffort, and in time to some success in circumstance or character, whichwas worth all the patience, hope, and labor of her life.
Fanny was just then in the mood to feel the beauty of this, forthe sincerest emotion she had ever known was beginning to make herdissatisfied with herself, and the aimless life she led. "Men mustrespect such girls as these," she thought; "yes, and love them too, forin spite of their independence, they are womanly. I wish I had a talentto live for, if it would do as much for me as it does for them. Itis this sort of thing that is improving Polly, that makes her society
interesting to Sydney, and herself so dear to every one. Money can't buythese things for me, and I want them very much."
As these thoughts were passing through her mind, Fanny was hearing allsorts of topics discussed with feminine enthusiasm and frankness. Art,morals, politics, society, books, religion, housekeeping, dress, andeconomy, for the minds and tongues roved from subject to subject withyouthful rapidity, and seemed to get something from the dryest and thedullest.
"How does the new book come on?" asked Polly, sucking her orange inpublic with a composure which would have scandalized the good ladies of"Cranford."
"Better than it deserves. My children, beware of popularity; it is adelusion and a snare; it puffeth up the heart of man, and especiallyof woman; it blindeth the eyes to faults; it exalteth unduly the humblepowers of the victim; it is apt to be capricious, and just as one getsto liking the taste of this intoxicating draught, it suddenly faileth,and one is left gasping, like a fish out of water," and Kate emphasizedher speech by spearing a sardine with a penknife, and eating it with agroan.
"It won't hurt you much, I guess; you have worked and waited so long,a large dose will do you good," said Rebecca, giving her a generousspoonful of jam, as if eager to add as much sweetness as possible to alife that had not been an easy one.
"When are you and Becky going to dissolve partnership?" asked Polly,eager for news of all.
"Never! George knows he can't have one without the other, and has notsuggested such a thing as parting us. There is always room in my housefor Becky, and she lets me do as she would if she was in my place,"answered Bess, with a look which her friend answered by a smile.
"The lover won't separate this pair of friends, you see," whisperedPolly to Fan. "Bess is to be married in the spring, and Becky is to livewith her."
"By the way, Polly, I've got some tickets for you. People are alwayssending me such things, and as I don't care for them, I'm glad tomake them over to you young and giddy infants. There are passes forthe statuary exhibition, Becky shall have those, here are the concerttickets for you, my musical girl; and that is for a course of lectureson literature, which I'll keep for myself."
As Kate dealt out the colored cards to the grateful girls, Fanny took agood look at her, wondering if the time would ever come when women couldearn a little money and success, without paying such a heavy price forthem; for Kate looked sick, tired, and too early old. Then her eye wentto the unfinished statue, and she said, impulsively, "I hope you'll putthat in marble, and show us what we ought to be."
"I wish I could!" And an intense desire shone in Rebecca's face, as shesaw her faulty work, and felt how fair her model was.
For a minute, the five young women sat silent looking up at thebeautiful, strong figure before them, each longing to see it done, andeach unconscious that she was helping, by her individual effort andexperience, to bring the day when their noblest ideal of womanhoodshould be embodied in flesh and blood, not clay.
The city bells rung one, and Polly started up.
"I must go, for I promised a neighbor of mine a lesson at two."
"I thought this was a holiday," said Fanny.
"So it is, but this is a little labor of love, and does n't spoil theday at all. The child has talent, loves music, and needs help. I can'tgive her money, but I can teach her; so I do, and she is the mostpromising pupil I have. Help one another, is part of the religion of oursisterhood, Fan."
"I must put you in a story, Polly. I want a heroine, and you will do,"said Kate.
"Me! why, there never was such a humdrum, unromantic thing as I am,"cried Polly, amazed.
"I've booked you, nevertheless, so in you go; but you may add as muchromance as you like, it's time you did."
"I'm ready for it when it comes, but it can't be forced, you know,"and Polly blushed and smiled as if some little spice of that delightfulthing had stolen into her life, for all its prosaic seeming.
Fanny was amused to see that the girls did not kiss at parting, butshook hands in a quiet, friendly fashion, looking at one another witheyes that said more than the most "gushing" words.
"I like your friends very much, Polly. I was afraid I should find themmannish and rough, or sentimental and conceited. But they are simple,sensible creatures, full of talent, and all sorts of fine things. Iadmire and respect them, and want to go again, if I may."
"Oh, Fan, I am so glad! I hoped you'd like them, I knew they'd do yougood, and I'll take you any time, for you stood the test better thanI expected. Becky asked me to bring you again, and she seldom does thatfor fashionable young ladies, let me tell you."
"I want to be ever so much better, and I think you and they might showme how," said Fanny, with a traitorous tremble in her voice.
"We'll show you the sunny side of poverty and work, and that is auseful lesson for any one, Miss Mills says," answered Polly, hoping thatFan would learn how much the poor can teach the rich, and what helpfulfriends girls may be to one another.