which made even the dreadful word “buffer” rather touching than
otherwise.
“He will be very angry, I dare say; but he ‘ll help you, won’t he? He
always does, Fan says.”
“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