An Old-Fashioned Girl

"Well, I never will again."

"Yes, you will, you can't help it." And Polly's eye glanced at Sydney, who was in front with Fan.

Tom laughed, and drew Polly closer as the crowd pressed, saying, with mock tenderness: "Did n't she like to be chaffed about her sweethearts? Well, she shan't be if I can help it. Poor dear, did she get her little bonnet knocked into a cocked hat and her little temper riled at the same time?"

Polly could n't help laughing, and, in spite of the crush, enjoyed the slow journey from seat to carriage, for Tom took such excellent care of her, she was rather sorry when it was over.

They had a merry little supper after they got home, and Polly gave them a burlesque opera that convulsed her hearers, for her spirits rose again and she was determined to get the last drop of fun before she went back to her humdrum life again.

"I 've had a regularly splendid time, and thank you ever so much," she said when the

"good-nights" were being exchanged.

"So have I. Let 's go and do it again to-morrow," said Tom, holding the hand from which he had helped to pull a refractory glove.

"Not for a long while, please. Too much pleasure would soon spoil me," answered Polly, shaking her head.

"I don't believe it. Good-night, 'sweet Mistress Milton,' as Syd called you. Sleep like an angel, and don't dream of I forgot, no teasing allowed." And Tom took himself off with a theatrical farewell.

"Now it 's all over and done with," thought Polly as she fell asleep after a long vigil. But it was not, and Polly's fun cost more than the price of gloves and bonnet, for, having nibbled at forbidden fruit, she had to pay the penalty. She only meant to have a good time, and there was no harm in that, but unfortunately she yielded to the various small temptations that beset pretty young girls and did more mischief to others than to herself.

Fanny's friendship grew cooler after that night. Tom kept wishing Trix was half as satisfactory as Polly, and Mr. Sydney began to build castles that had no foundation.

13. 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 and give 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 day to 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 her work, and don't have the tired, worried look she used to at first. The three 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 I want money."

There was a minute's pause as Fan returned to her practising, and Tom relapsed 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, old ladies, 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 Fan turn round, and ask, "What do you mean?"

"Well, it strikes me that Sydney is one of Polly's new friends. Have n't you observed that she is uncommonly jolly, and don't that sort of thing account for it?"

"Nonsense!" said Fanny, sharply.

"Hope it is," coolly returned Tom.

"What put it into your head?" demanded Fanny, twirling round again so that her face was hidden.

"Oh, well, I keep meeting Syd and Polly circulating in the same directions; she looks as if she had found something uncommonly nice, and he looks as if all creation was getting Pollyfied pretty rapidly. Wonder you have n't observed it."

"I have."

It was Tom's turn to look surprised now, for Fanny's voice sounded strange to him. He looked at her steadily for a minute, but saw only a rosy ear and a bent head. A cloud passed over his face, and he leaned his chin on his arm again with a despondent whistle, as he said to himself, "Poor Fan! Both of us in a scrape at once."

"Don't you think it would be a good thing?" asked Fanny, after playing a bar or two, very badly.

"Yes, for Syd."

"Not for Polly? Why, he 's rich, and clever, and better than most of you good-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 take a brotherly sort of interest in Polly. She 's a capital girl, and she ought to marry a missionary, or one of your reformer fellows, and be a shining light of some sort. I don't think setting up for a fine lady would suit her."

"I think it would, and I hope she 'll have the chance," said Fanny, evidently making an effort to speak kindly.