An Old-Fashioned Girl

"That 's the worst of it, you see. He 's paid up so often, that the last time he said his patience could n't stand it, nor his pocket either, and if I got into any more scrapes of that sort, I must get out as I could. I meant to be as steady as Bunker Hill Monument; but here I am again, worse than ever, for last quarter I did n't say anything to father, he was so bothered by the loss of those ships just then, so things have mounted up confoundedly."

"What have you done with all your money?"

"Hanged if I know."

"Can't you pay it anyway?"

"Don't see how, as I have n't a cent of my own, and no way of getting it, unless I try gambling."

"Oh, mercy, no! Sell your horse," cried Polly, after a minute of deep meditation.

"I have; but he did n't bring half I gave for him. I lamed him last winter, and the beggar won't get over it."

"And that did n't pay up the debts?"

"Only about a half of 'em."

"Why, Tom, how much do you owe?"

"I have dodged figuring it up till yesterday; then things were so desperate, I thought I might as well face the truth, so I overhauled my accounts, and there 's the result."

Tom threw a blotted, crumpled paper into Polly's lap, and tramped up and down again, faster than ever. Polly took one look at the total and clasped her hands, for to her inexperienced eyes it looked appalling.

"Tidy little sum, is n't it?" asked Tom, who could n't bear the silence, or the startled, grieved look in Polly's eyes.

"It 's awful! I don't wonder you dread telling your father."

"I 'd rather be shot. I say, Polly, suppose we break it to him easy!" added Tom, after another turn.

"How do you mean?"

"Why, suppose Fan, or, better still, you go and sort of pave the way. I can't bear to come down on him with the whole truth at once."

"So you 'd like to have me go and tell him for you?" Polly's lip curled a little as she said that, and she gave Tom a look that would have shown him how blue eyes can flash, if he had seen it. But he was at the window, and did n't turn, as he said slowly, "Well, you see, he 's so fond of you; we all confide in you; and you are so like one of the family, that it seems quite natural. Just tell him I 'm expelled, you know, and as much more as you like; then I 'll come in, and we 'll have it out."

Polly rose and went to the door without a word. In doing so, Tom caught a glimpse of her face, and said, hastily, "Don't you think it would be a good plan?"

"No, I don't."

"Why not? Don't you think he 'd rather have it told him nicely by you, than blurted out as I always do blurt things?"

"I know he 'd rather have his son go to him and tell the truth, like a man, instead of sending a girl to do what he is afraid to do himself."

If Polly had suddenly boxed his ears, Tom could n't have looked more taken aback than by that burst. He looked at her excited face, seemed to understand the meaning of it, and remembered all at once that he was trying to hide behind a girl. He turned scarlet, said shortly, "Come back, Polly," and walked straight out of the room, looking as if going to instant execution, for poor Tom had been taught to fear his father, and had not entirely outgrown the dread.

Polly sat down, looking both satisfied and troubled. "I hope I did right," she said to herself, "I could n't bear to have him shirk and seem cowardly. He is n't, only he did n't think how it seemed to me, and I don't wonder he was a little afraid, Mr. Shaw is so severe with the poor fellow. Oh, dear, what should we do if Will got into such scrapes.

Thank goodness, he 's poor, and can't; I 'm so glad of that!"

Then she sat silent beside the half-open door, hearing the murmur of Tom's voice across the hall, and hoping, with all her heart, that he would n't have a very hard time.

He seemed to tell his story rapidly and steadily, without interruption, to the end; then Polly heard Mr. Shaw's deeper voice say a few words, at which Tom uttered a loud exclamation, as if taken by surprise. Polly could n't distinguish a word, so she kept her seat, wondering anxiously what was going on between the two men. A sudden pause seemed to follow Tom's ejaculation, then Mr. Shaw talked a long time in a low, earnest tone, so different from the angry one Polly had expected to hear, that it made her nervous, for Mr. Shaw usually "blew Tom up first, and forgave him afterward," as Maud said. Presently Tom's voice was heard, apparently asking eager questions, to which brief replies were given. Then a dead silence fell upon the room, and nothing was heard but the spring rain softly falling out of doors. All of a sudden she heard a movement, and Tom's voice say audibly, "Let me bring Polly;" and he appeared, looking so pale and miserable that Polly was frightened.

"Go and say something to him; I can't; poor old father, if I 'd only known," and to Polly's utter dismay, Tom threw himself into a chair, and laid his head down on the table, as if he had got a blow that was too much for him.

"Oh, Tom, what is it?" cried Polly, hurrying to him, full of fears she dared not speak.