before long.”
“Don’t be too sure of that, ma’am.” Something in Tom’s tone made
Fan turn round, and ask, “What do you mean?”
“Well, it strikes me that Sydney is one of Polly’s new friends. Have
n’t you observed that she is uncommonly jolly, and don’t that sort
of thing account for it?”
“Nonsense!” said Fanny, sharply.
“Hope it is,” coolly returned Tom.
“What put it into your head?” demanded Fanny, twirling round
again so that her face was hidden.
“Oh, well, I keep meeting Syd and Polly circulating in the same
directions; she looks as if she had found something uncommonly
nice, and he looks as if all creation was getting Pollyfied pretty
rapidly. Wonder you have n’t observed it.”
“I have.”
It was Tom’s turn to look surprised now, for Fanny’s voice sounded
strange to him. He looked at her steadily for a minute, but saw
only a rosy ear and a bent head. A cloud passed over his face, and
he leaned his chin on his arm again with a despondent whistle, as
he said to himself, “Poor Fan! Both of us in a scrape at once.”
“Don’t you think it would be a good thing?” asked Fanny, after
playing a bar or two, very badly.
“Yes, for Syd.”
“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 was n’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 could n’t help smiling back.
“I came to see what you have been doing with yourself lately. You