An Old-Fashioned Girl

"Good for you, Fan!" and Tom gave an emphatic nod, as if her words meant more than she suspected "Mind you," he added, "I don't know anything, and only fancied there might be some little flirtation going on. But I dare say it 's nothing."

"Time will show." Then Fan began to sing, and Tom's horse came, so he departed with the very unusual demonstration of a gentle pat on the head, as he said kindly, "That 's right, my dear, keep jolly." It was n't an elegant way of expressing sympathy, but it was hearty, and Fan 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 sat thinking, with varying expressions of doubt and trouble passing rapidly across her face.

"Well, I can't do anything but wait!" she said, at last, slamming the music-book together with a desperate look. "Yes, I can," she added, a minute after, "it 's Polly's holiday. I can go and see her, and if there is anything in it I shall find it out."

Fanny dropped her face into her hands, with a little shiver, as she said that; then got up, looking as pale and resolute as if going to meet some dreadful doom, and putting on her things, went away to Polly's as fast as her dignity would allow.

Saturday morning was Polly's clearing-up day, and Fan found her with a handkerchief tied over her head, and a big apron on, just putting the last touches to the tidy little room, which was as fresh and bright as water, 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 is your mother and Maudie? It 's a nice day, and we 'll have a walk, won't we?"

By the time Polly's welcome was uttered, she had got Fan on the little sofa 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't come and report, and I got anxious about you," said Fanny, looking into the clear eyes before her.

"I 've been so busy; and I knew you would n't care to hear about my doings, 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 private opinion 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, looking away, "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, and energetic, 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 disappointment and 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 change the subject," said Polly, looking relieved herself.

"Dear me, which of our sweethearts sends us dainty bouquets of violets so early in the morning?" asked Fanny, suddenly spying the purple cluster in a graceful little vase on the piano.

"He sends me one every week; he knows I love them so," and Polly's eyes turned that way full of pride and pleasure.

"I 'd no idea he was so devoted," said Fanny, stooping to smell the flowers, 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 of our fondness for one another, because such things seem silly to other people. Will is n't all that Jimmy was to me; but he tries to be, and I love 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 little vase with the start she gave.

"Yes, of course; who did you think I meant?" asked Polly, sopping up the water before it damaged her piano.

"Never mind; I thought you might be having a quiet little flirtation with somebody. I feel responsible, you know, because I told your mother I 'd look after you. The flowers are all right. My head aches so, I hardly know what I 'm doing this morning."

Fanny spoke fast, and laughed uncomfortably, as she went back to the sofa, wondering if Polly had told her a lie. Polly seemed to guess at her thoughts as she saw the card, and turning toward her, she held it up, saying, with a conscious look in her eyes, "You thought Mr. Sydney sent them? Well, you are mistaken, and the next time you want to know anything, please ask straight out. I like it better than talking at cross purposes."