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.
Without looking up, Tom answered, in a smothered voice, “Failed;
all gone to smash; and to-morrow every one will know it.”
Polly held on to the back of Tom’s chair, for a minute, for the news
took her breath away, and she felt as if the world was coming to an
end, “failed” was such a vaguely dreadful word to her.
“Is it very bad?” she asked, softly, feeling as if anything was better
than to stand still and see Tom so wretched.
“Yes; he means to give up everything. He ‘s done his best; but it
can’t be staved off any longer, and it ‘s all up with him.”
“Oh, I wish I had a million to give him!” cried Polly, clasping her
hands, with the tears running down her cheeks. “How does he bear
it, Tom?”
“Like a man, Polly; and I ‘m proud of him,” said Tom, looking up,
all red and excited with the emotions he was trying to keep under.
“Everything has been against him, and he has fought all alone to
stand the pressure, but it ‘s too much for him, and he ‘s given in. It
‘s an honorable failure, mind you, and no one can say a word
against him. I ‘d like to see ’em try it!” and Tom clenched his
hands, as if it would be an immense relief to him to thrash half a
dozen aspersers of his father’s honest name.
“Of course they can’t! This is what poor Maud troubled about. He
had told your mother and Fan before you came, and that is why
they are so unhappy, I suppose.”
“They are safe enough. Father has n’t touched mother’s money; he
‘could n’t rob his girls,’ he said, and that ‘s all safe for ’em. Is n’t he
a trump, Polly?” And Tom’s face shone with pride, even while his
lips would twitch with a tenderer feeling.
“If I could only do anything to help,” cried Polly, oppressed with
her own powerlessness.
“You can. Go and be good to him; you know how; he needs it
enough, all alone there. I can’t do it, for I ‘m only a curse instead of
a comfort to him.”
“How did he take your news?” asked Polly, who, for a time, had
forgotten the lesser trouble in the greater.