An Old-Fashioned Girl

  CHAPTER VIII. SIX YEARS AFTERWARD

  "WHAT do you think Polly is going to do this winter?" exclaimed Fanny,looking up from the letter she had been eagerly reading.

  "Going to deliver lectures on Woman's Rights," said the young gentlemanwho was carefully examining his luxuriant crop of decidedly auburn hair,as he lounged with both elbows on the chimney-piece.

  "Going to set her cap for some young minister and marry him in thespring," added Mrs. Shaw, whose mind ran a good deal upon match-makingjust now.

  "I think she is going to stay at home, and do all the work,'causeservants cost so much; it would be just like her," observed Maud, whocould pronounce the letter R now.

  "It's my opinion she is going to open a school, or something of thatsort, to help those brothers of hers along," said Mr. Shaw, who had putdown his paper at the sound of Polly's name.

  "Every one of you wrong, though papa comes nearest the truth," criedFanny; "she is going to give music lessons, and support herself, so thatWill may go to college. He is the studious one, and Polly is very proudof him. Ned, the other brother, has a business talent, and don't carefor books, so he has gone out West, and will make his own way anywhere.Polly says she is n't needed at home now, the family is so small, andKitty can take her place nicely; so she is actually going to earn herown living, and hand over her share of the family income to Will. What amartyr that girl does make of herself," and Fanny looked as solemn as ifPolly had proposed some awful self-sacrifice.

  "She is a sensible, brave-hearted girl, and I respect her for doing it,"said Mr. Shaw, emphatically. "One never knows what may happen, and itdoes no harm for young people to learn to be independent."

  "If she is as pretty as she was last time I saw her, she'll get pupilsfast enough. I would n't mind taking lessons myself," was the graciousobservation of Shaw, Jr., as he turned from the mirror, with thesoothing certainty that his objectionable hair actually was growingdarker.

  "She would n't take you at any price," said Fanny, remembering Polly'slook of disappointment and disapproval when she came on her last visitand found him an unmistakable dandy.

  "You just wait and see," was the placid reply.

  "If Polly does carry out her plan, I wish Maud to take lessons of her;Fanny can do as she likes, but it would please me very much to have oneof my girls sing as Polly sings. It suits old people better than youropera things, and mother used to enjoy it so much."

  As he spoke, Mr. Shaw's eye turned toward the corner of the fire wheregrandma used to sit. The easy-chair was empty now, the kind old face wasgone, and nothing but a very tender memory remained.

  "I'd like to learn, papa, and Polly is a splendid teacher, I know; she's always so patient, and makes everything so pleasant. I do hope shewill get scholars enough to begin right away," said Maud.

  "When is she coming?" asked Mrs. Shaw, quite willing to help Polly,but privately resolving that Maud should be finished off by the mostfashionable master in the city.

  "She does n't say. She thanks me for asking her here, as usual, but saysshe shall go right to work and had better begin with her own little roomat once. Won't it seem strange to have Polly in town, and yet not withus?"

  "We'll get her somehow. The little room will cost something, and shecan stay with us just as well as not, even if she does teach. Tell her Isay so," said Mr. Shaw.

  "She won't come, I know; for if she undertakes to be independent, she'll do it in the most thorough manner," answered Fanny, and Mrs. Shawsincerely hoped she would. It was all very well to patronize the littlemusic-teacher, but it was not so pleasant to have her settled in thefamily.

  "I shall do what I can for her among my friends, and I dare say she willget on very well with young pupils to begin with. If she starts right,puts her terms high enough, and gets a few good names to give her theentre into our first families, I don't doubt she will do nicely, for Imust say Polly has the manners of a lady," observed Mrs. Shaw.

  "She's a mighty taking little body, and I'm glad she's to be in town,though I'd like it better if she did n't bother about teaching, butjust stayed here and enjoyed herself," said Tom, lazily.

  "I've no doubt she would feel highly honored to be allowed to devoteher time to your amusement; but she can't afford expensive luxuries, andshe don't approve of flirting, so you will have to let her go her ownway, and refresh herself with such glimpses of you as her engagementspermit," answered Fanny, in the sarcastic tone which was becominghabitual to her.

  "You are getting to be a regular old maid, Fan; as sharp as a lemon, andtwice as sour," returned Tom, looking down at her with an air of calmsuperiority.

  "Do be quiet, children; you know I can't bear anything like contention.Maud, give me my Shetland shawl, and put a cushion at my back."

  As Maud obeyed her mother, with a reproving look at her erring brotherand sister, a pause followed, for which every one seemed grateful. Theywere sitting about the fire after dinner, and all looked as if a littlesunshine would do them good. It had been a dull November day, but all ofa sudden the clouds lifted, and a bright ray shot into the room. Everyone turned involuntarily to welcome it, and every one cried out, "Why,Polly!" for there on the threshold stood a bright-faced girl, smiling asif there was no such thing as November weather in the world.

  "You dear thing, when did you come?" cried Fanny, kissing both theblooming checks with real affection, while the rest hovered near,waiting for a chance.

  "I came yesterday, and have been getting my nest in order; but I couldn't keep away any longer, so I ran up to say 'How do you do?'" answeredPolly, in the cheery voice that did one's heart good to hear.

  "My Polly always brings the sunshine with her," and Mr. Shaw held outhis hands to his little friend, for she was his favorite still.

  It was good to see her put both arms about his neck, and give him atender kiss, that said a great deal, for grandma had died since Pollymet him last and she longed to comfort him, seeing how gray and old hehad grown.

  If Tom had had any thoughts of following his father's example, somethingin Polly's manner made him change his mind, and shake hands with ahearty "I'm very glad to see you, Polly," adding to himself, as helooked at the face in the modest little bonnet: "Prettier than ever, byJove!"

  There was something more than mere prettiness in Polly's face, thoughTom had not learned to see it yet. The blue eyes were clear and steady,the fresh mouth frank and sweet, the white chin was a very firm one inspite of the dimple, and the smooth forehead under the little curlshad a broad, benevolent arch; while all about the face were thoseunmistakable lines and curves which can make even a plain countenancecomely, by breathing into it the beauty of a lovely character. Polly hadgrown up, but she had no more style now than in the days of the roundhat and rough coat, for she was all in gray, like a young Quakeress,with no ornament but a blue bow at the throat and another in the hair.Yet the plain suit became her excellently, and one never thought of thedress, looking at the active figure that wore it, for the freedom of herchildhood gave to Polly that good gift, health, and every movement wasfull of the vigor, grace, and ease, which nothing else can so surelybestow. A happy soul in a healthy body is a rare sight in these days,when doctors flourish and every one is ill, and this pleasant union wasthe charm which Polly possessed without knowing it.

  "It does seem so good to have you here again," said Maud, cuddlingPolly's cold hand, as she sat at her feet, when she was fairlyestablished between Fanny and Mr. Shaw, while Tom leaned on the back ofhis mother's chair, and enjoyed the prospect.

  "How do you get on? When do you begin? Where is your nest? Now tell allabout it," began Fanny, who was full of curiosity about the new plan.

  "I shall get on very well, I think, for I've got twelve scholars tobegin with, all able to pay a good price, and I shall give my firstlesson on Monday."

  "Don't you dread it?" asked Fanny.

  "Not much; why should I?" answered Polly, stoutly.

  "Well, I don't know; it's a new thing, and must be a little bit hard a
tfirst," stammered Fanny, not liking to say that working for one's livingseemed a dreadful hardship to her.

  "It will be tiresome, of course, but I shall get used to it; I shalllike the exercise, and the new people and places I must see will amuseme. Then the independence will be delightful, and if I can save a littleto help Kitty along with, that will be best of all."

  Polly's face shone as if the prospect was full of pleasure instead ofwork, and the hearty good will with which she undertook the new task,seemed to dignify her humble hopes and plans, and make them interestingin the sight of others.

  "Who have you got for pupils?" asked Mrs. Shaw, forgetting her nervesfor a minute.

  Polly named her list, and took a secret satisfaction in seeing theimpression which certain names made upon her hearers.

  "How in the world did you get the Davenports and the Greys, my dear?"said Mrs. Shaw, sitting erect in her surprise.

  "Mrs. Davenport and mother are relations, you know."

  "You never told us that before!" "The Davenports have been away someyears, and I forgot all about them. But when I was making my plan, Iknew I must have a good name or two to set me going, so I just wroteand asked Mrs. D. if she would help me. She came and saw us and was verykind, and has got these pupils for me, like a dear, good woman as sheis."

  "Where did you learn so much worldly wisdom, Polly?" asked Mr. Shaw,as his wife fell back in her chair, and took out her salts, as if thisdiscovery had been too much for her.

  "I learnt it here, sir," answered Polly, laughing. "I used to thinkpatronage and things of that sort very disagreeable and not worthhaving, but I've got wiser, and to a certain extent I'm glad to usewhatever advantages I have in my power, if they can be honestly got."

  "Why did n't you let us help you in the beginning? We should have beenvery glad to, I'm sure," put in Mrs. Shaw, who quite burned to be knownas a joint patroness with Mrs. Davenport.

  "I know you would, but you have all been so kind to me I did n't wantto trouble you with my little plans till the first steps were taken.Besides, I did n't know as you would like to recommend me as a teacher,though you like me well enough as plain Polly."

  "My dear, of course I would, and we want you to take Maud at once,and teach her your sweet songs. She has a fine voice, and is reallysuffering for a teacher."

  A slight smile passed over Polly's face as she returned her thanks forthe new pupil, for she remembered a time when Mrs. Shaw considered her"sweet songs" quite unfit for a fashionable young lady's repertoire."Where is your room?" asked Maud.

  "My old friend Miss Mills has taken me in, and I am nicely settled.Mother did n't like the idea of my going to a strange boarding-house,so Miss Mills kindly made a place for me. You know she lets her roomswithout board, but she is going to give me my dinners, and I'm to getmy own breakfast and tea, quite independently. I like that way, and it's very little trouble, my habits are so simple; a bowl of bread andmilk night and morning, with baked apples or something of that sort, isall I want, and I can have it when I like."

  "Is your room comfortably furnished? Can't we lend you anything, mydear? An easy-chair now, or a little couch, so necessary when one comesin tired," said Mrs. Shaw, taking unusual interest in the affair.

  "Thank you, but I don't need anything, for I brought all sorts of homecomforts with me. Oh, Fan, you ought to have seen my triumphal entryinto the city, sitting among my goods and chattels, in a farmer's cart."Polly's laugh was so infectious that every one smiled and forgot to beshocked at her performance. "Yes," she added, "I kept wishing I couldmeet you, just to see your horrified face when you saw me sitting onmy little sofa, with boxes and bundles all round me, a bird-cage on oneside, a fishing basket, with a kitten's head popping in and out of thehole, on the other side, and jolly old Mr. Brown, in his blue frock,perched on a keg of apples in front. It was a lovely bright day, and Ienjoyed the ride immensely, for we had all sorts of adventures."

  "Oh, tell about it," begged Maud, when the general laugh at Polly'spicture had subsided.

  "Well, in the first place, we forgot my ivy, and Kitty came runningafter me, with it. Then we started again, but were soon stopped by agreat shouting, and there was Will racing down the hill, waving a pillowin one hand and a squash pie in the other. How we did laugh when hecame up and explained that our neighbor, old Mrs. Dodd, had sent in ahop-pillow for me, in case of headache, and a pie to begin housekeepingwith. She seemed so disappointed at being too late that Will promisedto get them to me, if he ran all the way to town. The pillow was easilydisposed of, but that pie! I do believe it was stowed in every part ofthe wagon, and never staid anywhere. I found it in my lap, then on thefloor, next, upside down among the books, then just on the pointof coasting off a trunk into the road, and at last it landed in myrocking-chair. Such a remarkable pie as it was, too, for in spite of allits wanderings, it never got spilt or broken, and we finally ate it forlunch, in order to be left in peace. Next, my kitty got away, and Ihad a chase over walls and brooks before I got her, while Mr. Brownsat shaking with fun, to see me run. We finished off by having thebook-shelves tumble on our heads as we went down a hill, and losingmy chair off behind, as we went up a hill. A shout made us pause, and,looking back, there was the poor little chair rocking all by itself inthe middle of the road, while a small boy sat on the fence and whooped.It was great fun, I do assure you."

  Polly had run on in her lively way, not because she thought heradventures amounted to much, but from a wish to cheer up her friends,who had struck her as looking rather dull and out of sorts, especiallyMr. Shaw; and when she saw him lean back in his chair with the oldhearty laugh, she was satisfied, and blessed the unlucky pie for amusinghim.

  "Oh, Polly, you do tell such interesting things!" sighed Maud, wipingher eyes.

  "I wish I'd met you, I'd have given you three cheers and a tiger, forit must have been an imposing spectacle," said Tom.

  "No, you would n't; you'd have whisked round the corner when you saw mecoming or have stared straight before you, utterly unconscious of theyoung woman in the baggage wagon."

  Polly laughed in his face just as she used to do, when she said that,and, in spite of the doubt cast upon his courtesy, Tom rather liked it,though he had nothing to say for himself but a reproachful, "Now, Polly,that's too bad."

  "True, nevertheless. You must come and see my pets, Maud, for my catand bird live together as happily as brother and sister," said Polly,turning to Maud, who devoured every word she said.

  "That's not saying much for them," muttered Tom, feeling that Pollyought to address more of her conversation to him.

  "Polly knows what she's talking about; her brothers appreciate theirsisters," observed Fanny, in her sharp tone.

  "And Polly appreciates her brothers, don't forget to add that, ma'am,"answered Tom.

  "Did I tell you that Will was going to college?" broke in Polly, toavert the rising storm.

  "Hope he'll enjoy himself," observed Tom, with the air of a man whohad passed through all the mysteries, and reached that state of sublimeindifference which juniors seem to pride themselves upon.

  "I think he will, he is so fond of study, and is so anxious to improveevery opportunity. I only hope he won't overwork and get sick, as somany boys do," said simple Polly, with such a respectful belief in theeager thirst for knowledge of collegians as a class, that Tom regardedthe deluded girl with a smile of lofty pity, from the heights of hisvast and varied experience.

  "Guess he won't hurt himself. I'll see that he don't study too hard."And Tom's eyes twinkled as they used to do, when he planned his boyishpranks.

  "I'm afraid you can't be trusted as a guide, if various rumors I've heard are true," said Polly, looking up at him with a wistfulexpression, that caused his face to assume the sobriety of an owl's.

  "Base slanders; I'm as steady as a clock, an ornament to my class, anda model young man, ain't I, mother?" And Tom patted her thin cheek witha caressing hand, sure of one firm friend in her; for when he ceased tobe a harum-scarum boy, Mrs. Shaw
began to take great pride in her son,and he, missing grandma, tried to fill her place with his feeble mother.

  "Yes, dear, you are all I could ask," and Mrs. Shaw looked up at himwith such affection and confidence in her eyes, that Polly gave Tom thefirst approving look she had vouchsafed him since she came.

  Why Tom should look troubled and turn grave all at once, she couldn't understand, but she liked to see him stroke his mother's cheek sosoftly, as he stood with his head resting on the high back of her chair,for Polly fancied that he felt a man's pity for her weakness, and waslearning a son's patient love for a mother who had had much to bear withhim.

  "I'm so glad you are going to be here all winter, for we are to bevery gay, and I shall enjoy taking you round with me," began Fanny,forgetting Polly's plan for a moment.

  Polly shook her head decidedly. "It sounds very nice, but it can't bedone, Fan, for I've come to work, not play; to save, not spend; andparties will be quite out of the question for me."

  "You don't intend to work all the time, without a bit of fun, I hope,"cried Fanny, dismayed at the idea.

  "I mean to do what I've undertaken, and not to be tempted away frommy purpose by anything. I should n't be fit to give lessons if I wasup late, should I? And how far would my earnings go towards dress,carriages, and all the little expenses which would come if I set up fora young lady in society? I can't do both, and I'm not going to try,but I can pick up bits of fun as I go along, and be contented with freeconcerts and lectures, seeing you pretty often, and every Sunday Will isto spend with me, so I shall have quite as much dissipation as is goodfor me."

  "If you don't come to my parties, I'll never forgive you," said Fanny,as Polly paused, while Tom chuckled inwardly at the idea of callingvisits from a brother "dissipation."

  "Any small party, where it will do to wear a plain black silk, I cancome to; but the big ones must n't be thought of, thank you."

  It was charming to see the resolution of Polly's face when she saidthat; for she knew her weakness, and beyond that black silk she haddetermined not to go. Fanny said no more, for she felt quite sure thatPolly would relent when the time came, and she planned to give hera pretty dress for a Christmas present, so that one excuse should beremoved.

  "I say, Polly, won't you give some of us fellows music lessons?Somebody wants me to play, and I'd rather learn of you than any SenorTwankydillo," said Tom, who did n't find the conversation interesting.

  "Oh, yes; if any of you boys honestly want to learn, and will behaveyourselves, I'll take you; but I shall charge extra," answered Polly,with a wicked sparkle of the eye, though her face was quite sober, andher tone delightfully business-like.

  "Why, Polly, Tom is n't a boy; he's twenty, and he says I must treathim with respect. Besides, he's engaged, and does put on such airs,"broke in Maud who regarded her brother as a venerable being.

  "Who is the little girl?" asked Polly taking the news as a joke.

  "Trix; why, did n't you know it?" answered Maud, as if it had been anevent of national importance.

  "No! is it true, Fan?" and Polly turned to her friend with a face fullof surprise, while Tom struck an imposing attitude, and affected absenceof mind.

  "I forgot to tell you in my last letter; it's just out, and we don'tlike it very well," observed Fanny, who would have preferred to beengaged first herself.

  "It's a very nice thing, and I am perfectly satisfied," announced Mrs.Shaw, rousing from a slight doze.

  "Polly looks as if she did n't believe it. Have n't I the appearanceof'the happiest man alive'?" asked Tom, wondering if it could be pitywhich he saw in the steady eyes fixed on him.

  "No, I don't think you have," she said, slowly.

  "How the deuce should a man look, then?" cried Tom, rather nettled ather sober reception of the grand news.

  "As if he had learned to care for some one a great deal more than forhimself," answered Polly, with sudden color in her cheeks, and a suddensoftening of the voice, as her eyes turned away from Tom, who was thepicture of a complacent dandy, from the topmost curl of his auburn headto the tips of his aristocratic boots.

  "Tommy's quenched; I agree with you, Polly; I never liked Trix, andI hope it's only a boy-and-girl fancy, that will soon die a naturaldeath," said Mr. Shaw, who seemed to find it difficult to help fallinginto a brown study, in spite of the lively chatter going on about him.

  Shaw, Jr., being highly incensed at the disrespectful manner inwhich his engagement was treated, tried to assume a superb air ofindifference, and finding that a decided failure, was about to strollout of the room with a comprehensive nod, when his mother called afterhim: "Where are you going, dear?"

  "To see Trix, of course. Good-by, Polly," and Mr. Thomas departed,hoping that by the skillful change of tone, from ardent impatience tocondescending coolness, he had impressed one hearer at least with thefact that he regarded Trix as the star of his existence, and Polly as apresuming little chit.

  If he could have heard her laugh, and Fanny's remarks, his wrath wouldhave boiled over; fortunately he was spared the trial, and went awayhoping that the coquetries of his Trix would make him forget Polly'slook when she answered his question.

  "My dear, that boy is the most deluded creature you ever saw," beganFanny, as soon as the front door banged. "Belle and Trix both tried tocatch him, and the slyest got him; for, in spite of his airs, he isas soft-hearted as a baby. You see Trix has broken off two engagementsalready, and the third time she got jilted herself. Such a fuss as shemade! I declare, it really was absurd. But I do think she felt it verymuch, for she would n't go out at all, and got thin, and pale, and blue,and was really quite touching. I pitied her, and had her here a gooddeal, and Tom took her part; he always does stand up for the crushedones, and that's good of him, I allow. Well, she did the forsaken veryprettily; let Tom amuse her, and led him on till the poor fellow losthis wits, and finding her crying one day (about her hat, which was n'tbecoming), he thought she was mourning for Mr. Banks, and so, to comforther, the goose proposed. That was all she wanted; she snapped him up atonce, and there he is in a nice scrape; for since her engagement she isas gay as ever, flirts awfully with any one who comes along, and keepsTom in a fume all the time. I really don't think he cares for her halfas much as he makes believe, but he'll stand by her through thick andthin, rather than do as Banks did."

  "Poor Tom!" was all Polly said, when Fan had poured the story into herear, as they sat whispering in the sofa corner.

  "My only consolation is that Trix will break off the affair beforespring; she always does, so that she may be free for the summercampaign. It won't hurt Tom, but I hate to have him make a fool ofhimself out of pity, for he is more of a man than he seems, and I don'twant any one to plague him."

  "No one but yourself," said Polly, smiling.

  "Well, that's all fair; he is a torment sometimes, but I'm rather fondof him in spite of it. I get so tired of the other fellows, they aresuch absurd things and when Tom is in his good mood he is very nice andquite refreshing."

  "I'm glad to hear it," said Polly, making a mental note of the fact.

  "Yes, and when grandma was ill he was perfectly devoted. I did n't knowthe boy had so much gentleness in him. He took her death sadly to heart,for, though he did n't say much, he was very grave and steady for a longtime. I tried to comfort him, and we had two or three real sweet littletalks together, and seemed to get acquainted for the first time. It wasvery nice, but it did n't last; good times never do with us. We soon gotback into the old way, and now we hector one another just as before."

  Fanny sighed, then yawned, and fell into her usual listless attitude, asif the brief excitement of Polly's coming had begun to subside.

  "Walk home with me and see my funny little room. It's bright now, andthe air will do you good. Come, both of you, and have a frolic as weused to," said Polly, for the red sunset now burning in the west seemedto invite them out.

  They agreed, and soon the three were walking briskly away to Polly's newhome, in a quiet stree
t, where a few old trees rustled in the summer,and the morning sun shone pleasantly in winter time.

  "The way into my parlor Is up a winding stair,"

  sang Polly, running up two flights of broad, old-fashioned steps, andopening the door of a back room, out of which streamed the welcome glowof firelight.

  "These are my pets, Maud," she added, pausing on the threshold, andbeckoning the girls to look in quietly.

  On the rug, luxuriously basking in the warmth, lay a gray kitten, andclose by, meditatively roosting on one leg, stood a plump canary, whococked his bright eye at the new-comers, gave a loud chirp as if to wakehis comrade, and then flew straight to Polly's shoulder, where he brokeinto a joyful song to welcome his mistress home.

  "Allow me to introduce my family," said Polly; "this noisy little chapthe boys named Nicodemus; and this dozy cat is called Ashputtel, becausethe joy of her life is to get among the cinders. Now, take off yourthings, and let me do the honors, for you are to stop to tea, and thecarriage is to come for you at eight. I arranged it with your motherwhile you were upstairs."

  "I want to see everything," said Maud, when the hats were off, and thehands warmed.

  "So you shall; for I think my housekeeping arrangements will amuse you."

  Then Polly showed her kingdom, and the three had a merry time over it.The big piano took up so much room there was no place for a bed; butPolly proudly displayed the resources of her chintz-covered couch, forthe back let down, the seat lifted up, and inside were all the pillowsand blankets. "So convenient, you see, and yet out of the way in thedaytime, for two or three of my pupils come to me," explained Polly.

  Then there was a bright drugget over the faded carpet, the littlerocking-chair and sewing-table stood at one window, the ivy ran all overthe other, and hid the banqueting performances which went on in thatcorner. Book-shelves hung over the sofa, a picture or two on thewalls, and a great vase of autumn leaves and grasses beautified the lowchimney-piece. It was a very humble little room, but Polly had done herbest to make it pleasant, and it already had a home-like look, with thecheery fire, and the household pets chirping and purring confidingly onthe rug.

  "How nice it is!" exclaimed Maud, as she emerged from the big closetwhere Polly kept her stores. "Such a cunning teakettle and saucepan,and a tete-a-tete set, and lots of good things to eat. Do have toast fortea, Polly, and let me make it with the new toasting fork; it's suchfun to play cook."

  Fanny was not so enthusiastic as her sister, for her eyes saw manytraces of what seemed like poverty to her; but Polly was so gay, sosatisfied with her small establishment, so full of happy hopes andplans, that her friend had not the heart to find a fault or suggest animprovement, and sat where she was told, laughing and talking while theothers got tea.

  "This will be a country supper, girls," said Polly, bustling about."Here is real cream, brown bread, home-made cake, and honey from my ownbeehives. Mother fitted me out with such a supply, I'm glad to have aparty, for I can't eat it all quick enough. Butter the toast, Maudie,and put that little cover over it. Tell me when the kettle boils, anddon't step on Nicodemus, whatever you do."

  "What a capital house-keeper you will make some day," said Fanny, as shewatched Polly spread her table with a neatness and despatch which waspleasant to behold.

  "Yes, it's good practice," laughed Polly, filling her tiny teapot, andtaking her place behind the tray, with a matronly air, which was thebest joke of the whole.

  "This is the most delicious party I ever went to," observed Maud, withher mouth full of honey, when the feast was well under way. "I do wishI could have a nice room like this, and a cat and a bird that would n'teat each other up, and a dear little teakettle, and make just as muchtoast as I like."

  Such a peal of laughter greeted Maud's pensive aspiration, that MissMills smiled over her solitary cup of tea, and little Nick burst into aperfect ecstasy of song, as he sat on the sugar-bowl helping himself.

  "I don't care for the toast and the kettle, but I do envy you your goodspirits, Polly," said Fanny, as the merriment subsided. "I'm so tiredof everybody and everything, it seems sometimes as if I should die ofennui. Don't you ever feel so?"

  "Things worry me sometimes, but I just catch up a broom and sweep, orwash hard, or walk, or go at something with all my might, and I usuallyfind that by the time I get through the worry is gone, or I've gotcourage enough to bear it without grumbling," answered Polly, cuttingthe brown loaf energetically.

  "I can't do those things, you know; there's no need of it, and Idon't think they'd cure my worrying," said Fanny, languidly feedingAshputtel, who sat decorously beside her, at the table, winking at thecream pot.

  "A little poverty would do you good, Fan; just enough necessity to keepyou busy till you find how good work is; and when you once learn that,you won't complain of ennui any more," returned Polly, who had takenkindly the hard lesson which twenty years of cheerful poverty had taughther.

  "Mercy, no, I should hate that; but I wish some one would invent a newamusement for rich people. I'm dead sick of parties, and flirtations,trying to out-dress my neighbors, and going the same round year afteryear, like a squirrel in a cage."

  Fanny's tone was bitter as well as discontented, her face sad as well aslistless, and Polly had an instinctive feeling that some trouble, morereal than any she had ever known before, was lying heavy at her friend'sheart. That was not the time to speak of it, but Polly resolved to standready to offer sympathy, if nothing more, whenever the confidentialminute came; and her manner was so kind, so comfortable, that Fanny feltits silent magic, grew more cheerful in the quiet atmosphere of thatlittle room, and when they said good-night, after an old-time gossip bythe fire, she kissed her hostess warmly, saying, with a grateful look,"Polly, dear, I shall come often, you do me so much good."