“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.

“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 wasn’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 couldn’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 wouldn’t care to hear about my doings, for they aren’t the sort you like,” answered Polly.

“Your lessons didn’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.