'There won't be any one to help the old gentleman safely home to-morrow,' he said, as Polly took his hand in both hers with an affectionate squeeze.
'Yes, there will; see if there is n't,' cried Polly, nodding and smiling, for Fan had confided to her that she meant to try it after her friend had gone.
'I 'm glad of it. But, my dear, I want you to promise that you will come and make us a visit every winter, a good long one,' said Mr. Shaw, patting the blue mittens folded round his hand.
'If they can spare me from home, I 'd love to come dearly.'
'They must lend you for a little while, because you do us all good, and we need you.'
'Do I? I don't see how; but I 'm glad to hear you say so,' cried Polly, much touched.
'I can't tell you how, exactly; but you brought something into my house that makes it warmer and pleasanter, and won't quite vanish, I hope, when you go away, my child.'
Polly had never heard Mr. Shaw speak like that before, and did n't know what to say, she felt so proud and happy at this proof of the truth of her mother's words, when she said that 'even a little girl could exert an influence, and do some good in this big, busy world.' She only gave her friend a grateful look sweeter than any words, and they went on together, hand in hand, through the 'soft-falling snow.'
If Polly could have seen what went into that top tray, she would have been entirely overcome; for Fanny had told grandma about the poor little presents she had once laughed at, and they had all laid their heads together to provide something really fine and appropriate for every member of the Milton family. Such a mine of riches! and so much good-will, affection, and kindly forethought was packed away in the tempting bundles, that no one could feel offended, but would find an unusual charm about the pretty gifts that made them doubly welcome. I only know that if Polly had suspected that a little watch was ticking away in a little case, with her name on it, inside that trunk, she never could have left it locked as grandma advised, or have eaten her dinner so quietly.
As it was, her heart was very full, and the tears rose to her eyes more than once, everyone was so kind, and so sorry to have her go.
Tom did n't need any urging to play escort now; and both Fan and Maud insisted on going too. Mrs. Shaw forgot her nerves, and put up some gingerbread with her own hands; Mr. Shaw kissed Polly as if she had been his dearest daughter; and grandma held her close, whispering in a tremulous tone, 'My little comfort, come again soon'; while Katy waved her apron from the nursery window, crying, as they drove, away, 'The saints bless ye, Miss Polly, dear, and sind ye the best of lucks!'
But the crowning joke of all was Tom's good-by, for, when Polly was fairly settled in the car, the last 'All aboard!' uttered, and the train in motion, Tom suddenly produced a knobby little bundle, and thrusting it in at the window, while he hung on in some breakneck fashion, said, with a droll mixture of fun and feeling in his face, 'It 's horrid; but you wanted it, so I put it in to make you laugh. Good-by, Polly; good-by, good-by!'
The last adieu was a trifle husky, and Tom vanished as it was uttered, leaving Polly to laugh over his parting souvenir till the tears ran down her cheeks. It was a paper bag of peanuts, and poked down at the very bottom a photograph of Tom. It was 'horrid,' for he looked as if taken by a flash of lightning, so black, wild, and staring was it; but Polly liked it, and whenever she felt a little pensive at parting with her friends, she took a peanut, or a peep at Tom's funny picture, which made her merry again.
So the short journey came blithely to an end, and in the twilight she saw a group of loving faces at the door of a humble little house, which was more beautiful than any palace in her eyes, for it was home.
8. Six Years Afterward
'WHAT do you think Polly is going to do this winter?' exclaimed Fanny, looking up from the letter she had been eagerly reading.
'Going to deliver lectures on Woman's Rights,' said the young gentleman who was carefully examining his luxuriant crop of decidedly auburn hair, as he lounged with both elbows on the chimney-piece.
'Going to set her cap for some young minister and marry him in the spring,' added Mrs.
Shaw, whose mind ran a good deal upon match-making just now.
'I think she is going to stay at home, and do all the work, 'cause servants cost so much; it would be just like her,' observed Maud, who could pronounce the letter R now.
'It 's my opinion she is going to open a school, or something of that sort, to help those brothers of hers along,' said Mr. Shaw, who had put down his paper at the sound of Polly's name.
'Every one of you wrong, though papa comes nearest the truth,' cried Fanny; 'she is going to give music lessons, and support herself, so that Will may go to college. He is the studious one, and Polly is very proud of him. Ned, the other brother, has a business talent, and don't care for books, so he has gone out West, and will make his own way anywhere. Polly says she is n't needed at home now, the family is so small, and Kitty can take her place nicely; so she is actually going to earn her own living, and hand over her share of the family income to Will. What a martyr that girl does make of herself,' and Fanny looked as solemn as if Polly had proposed some awful self- sacrifice.
'She is a sensible, brave-hearted girl, and I respect her for doing it,' said Mr. Shaw, emphatically. 'One never knows what may happen, and it does no harm for young people to learn to be independent.'
'If she is as pretty as she was last time I saw her, she 'll get pupils fast enough. I would n't mind taking lessons myself,' was the gracious observation of Shaw, Jr., as he turned from the mirror, with the soothing certainty that his objectionable hair actually was growing darker.
'She would n't take you at any price,' said Fanny, remembering Polly's look of disappointment and disapproval when she came on her last visit and found him an unmistakable dandy.
'You just wait and see,' was the placid reply.
'If Polly does carry out her plan, I wish Maud to take lessons of her; Fanny can do as she likes, but it would please me very much to have one of my girls sing as Polly sings.
It suits old people better than your opera things, and mother used to enjoy it so much.'
As he spoke, Mr. Shaw's eye turned toward the comer of the fire where grandma used to sit. The easy-chair was empty now, the kind old face was gone, and nothing but a very tender memory remained.
'I 'd like to learn, papa, and Polly is a splendid teacher, I know; she 's always so patient, and makes everything so pleasant. I do hope she will get scholars enough to begin right away,' said Maud.
