and I croak over my trials like an ungrateful raven.”
“Can’t we make the trials lighter for you?”
The voice that put the question was so very kind, that Polly dared
not look up, because she knew what the eyes were silently saying.
“Thank you, no. I don’t get more tribulation than is good for me, I
fancy, and we are apt to make mistakes when we try to dodge
troubles.”
“Or people,” added Sydney in a tone that made Polly color up to
her forehead.
“How lovely the park looks,” she said, in great confusion.
“Yes, it ‘s the pleasantest walk we have; don’t you think so?” asked
the artful young man, laying a trap, into which Polly immediately
fell.
“Yes, indeed! It ‘s always so refreshing to me to see a little bit of
the country, as it were, especially at this season.”
Oh, Polly, Polly, what a stupid speech to make, when you had just
given him to understand that you were tired of the park! Not being
a fool or a cox-comb, Sydney put this and that together, and taking
various trifles into the account, he had by this time come to the
conclusion that Polly had heard the same bits of gossip that he had,
which linked their names together, that she did n’t like it, and tried
to show she did n’t in this way. He was quicker to take a hint than
she had expected, and being both proud and generous, resolved to
settle the matter at once, for Polly’s sake as well as his own. So,
when she made her last brilliant remark, he said quietly, watching
her face keenly all the while; “I thought so; well, I ‘m going out of
town on business for several weeks, so you can enjoy your ‘little bit
of country’ without being annoyed by me.”
“Annoyed? Oh, no!” cried Polly earnestly; then stopped short, not
knowing what to say for herself. She thought she had a good deal
of the coquette in her, and I ‘ve no doubt that with time and
training she would have become a very dangerous little person, but
now she was far too transparent and straightforward by nature even
to tell a white lie cleverly. Sydney knew this, and liked her for it,
but he took advantage of it, nevertheless by asking suddenly;
“Honestly, now, would n’t you go the old way and enjoy it as much
as ever, if I was n’t anywhere about to set the busybodies
gossiping?”
“Yes,” said Polly, before she could stop herself, and then could
have bitten her tongue out for being so rude. Another awful pause
seemed impending, but just at that moment a horseman clattered
by with a smile and a salute, which caused Polly to exclaim, “Oh,
there ‘s Tom!” with a tone and a look that silenced the words
hovering on Sydney’s lips, and caused him to hold out his hand
with a look which made Polly’s heart flutter then and ache with
pity for a good while afterward, though he only said, “Good by,
Polly.”
He was gone before she could do anything but look up at him with
a remorseful face, and she walked on, feeling that the first and
perhaps the only lover she would ever have, had read his answer
and accepted it in silence. She did not know what else he had read,
and comforted herself with the thought that he did not care for her
very much, since he took the first rebuff so quickly.
Polly did not return to her favorite walk till she learned from
Minnie that “Uncle” had really left town, and then she found that
his friendly company and conversation was what had made the
way so pleasant after all. She sighed over the perversity of things
in general, and croaked a little over her trials in particular, but on
the whole got over her loss better than she expected, for soon she
had other sorrows beside her own to comfort, and such work does
a body more good than floods of regretful tears, or hours of
sentimental lamentation.
She shunned Fanny for a day or two, but gained nothing by it, for