An Old-fashioned Girl by Louisa M. Alcott

as her engagements permit,” answered Fanny, in the sarcastic tone

which was be coming habitual to her.

“You are getting to be a regular old maid, Fan; as sharp as a lemon,

and twice as sour,” returned Tom, looking down at her with an air

of calm superiority.

“Do be quiet, children; you know I can’t bear anything like

contention. Maud, give me my Shetland shawl, and put a cushion

at my back.”

As Maud obeyed her mother, with a reproving look at her erring

brother and sister, a pause followed, for which every one seemed

grateful. They were sitting about the fire after dinner, and all

looked as if a little sunshine would do them good. It had been a

dull November day, but all of a sudden the clouds lifted, and a

bright ray shot into the room. Every one turned involuntarily to

welcome it, and every one cried out, “Why, Polly!” for there on the

threshold stood a bright-faced girl, smiling as if there was no such

thing as November weather in the world.

“You dear thing, when did you come?” cried Fanny, kissing both

the blooming checks with real affection, while the rest hovered

near, waiting for a chance.

“I came yesterday, and have been getting my nest in order; but I

could n’t keep away any longer, so I ran up to say ‘How do you

do?'” answered Polly, in the cheery voice that did one’s heart good

to hear.

“My Polly always brings the sunshine with her,” and Mr. Shaw

held out his hands to his little friend, for she was his favorite still.

It was good to see her put both arms about his neck, and give him a

tender kiss, that said a great deal, for grandma had died since Polly

met him last and she longed to comfort him, seeing how gray and

old he had grown.

If Tom had had any thoughts of following his father’s example,

something in Polly’s manner made him change his mind, and shake

hands with a hearty “I ‘m very glad to see you, Polly,” adding to

himself, as he looked at the face in the modest little bonnet:

“Prettier than ever, by Jove!”

There was something more than mere prettiness in Polly’s face,

though Tom had not learned to see it yet. The blue eyes were clear

and steady, the fresh mouth frank and sweet, the white chin was a

very firm one in spite of the dimple, and the smooth forehead

under the little curls had a broad, benevolent arch; while all about

the face were those unmistakable lines and curves which can make

even a plain countenance comely, by breathing into it the beauty of

a lovely character. Polly had grown up, but she had no more style

now than in the days of the round hat and rough coat, for she was

all in gray, like a young Quakeress, with no ornament but a blue

bow at the throat and another in the hair. Yet the plain suit became

her excellently, and one never thought of the dress, looking at the

active figure that wore it, for the freedom of her childhood gave to

Polly that good gift, health, and every movement was full of the

vigor, grace, and ease, which nothing else can so surely bestow. A

happy soul in a healthy body is a rare sight in these days, when

doctors flourish and every one is ill, and this pleasant union was

the charm which Polly possessed without knowing it.

“It does seem so good to have you here again,” said Maud,

cuddling Polly’s cold hand, as she sat at her feet, when she was

fairly established between Fanny and Mr. Shaw, while Tom leaned

on the back of his mother’s chair, and enjoyed the prospect.

“How do you get on? When do you begin? Where is your nest?

Now tell all about it,” began Fanny, who was full of curiosity about

the new plan.

“I shall get on very well, I think, for I ‘ve got twelve scholars to

begin with, all able to pay a good price, and I shall give my first

lesson on Monday.”

“Don’t you dread it?” asked Fanny.

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