'That 's not saying much for them,' muttered Tom, feeling that Polly ought to address more of her conversation to him.
'Polly knows what she 's talking about; her brothers appreciate their sisters,' observed Fanny, in her sharp tone.
'And Polly appreciates her brothers, don't forget to add that, ma'am,' answered Tom.
'Did I tell you that Will was going to college?' broke in Polly, to avert the rising storm.
'Hope he 'll enjoy himself,' observed Tom, with the air of a man who had passed through all the mysteries, and reached that state of sublime indifference which juniors seem to pride themselves upon.
'I think he will, he is so fond of study, and is so anxious to improve every opportunity. I only hope he won't overwork and get sick, as so many boys do,' said simple Polly, with such a respectful belief in the eager thirst for knowledge of collegians as a class, that Tom regarded the deluded girl with a smile of lofty pity, from the heights of his vast and varied experience.
'Guess he won't hurt himself. I 'll see that he don't study too hard.' And Tom's eyes twinkled as they used to do, when he planned his boyish pranks.
'I 'm afraid you can't be trusted as a guide, if various rumors I 've heard are true,' said Polly, looking up at him with a wistful expression, that caused his face to assume the sobriety of an owl's.
'Base slanders; I 'm as steady as a clock, an ornament to my class, and a model young man, ain't I, mother?' And Tom patted her thin cheek with a caressing hand, sure of one firm friend in her; for when he ceased to be a harum-scarum boy, Mrs. Shaw began to take great pride in her son, and he, missing grandma, tried to fill her place with his feeble mother.
'Yes, dear, you are all I could ask,' and Mrs. Shaw looked up at him with such affection and confidence in her eyes, that Polly gave Tom the first approving look she had vouchsafed him since she came.
Why Tom should look troubled and turn grave all at once, she could n't understand, but she liked to see him stroke his mother's cheek so softly, as he stood with his head resting on the high back of her chair, for Polly fancied that he felt a man's pity for her weakness, and was learning a son's patient love for a mother who had had much to bear with him.
'I 'm so glad you are going to be here all winter, for we are to be very gay, and I shall enjoy taking you round with me,' began Fanny, forgetting Polly's plan for a moment.
Polly shook her head decidedly. 'It sounds very nice, but it can't be done, Fan, for I 've come to work, not play; to save, not spend; and parties will be quite out of the question for me.'
'You don't intend to work all the time, without a bit of fun, I hope,' cried Fanny, dismayed at the idea.
'I mean to do what I 've undertaken, and not to be tempted away from my purpose by anything. I should n't be fit to give lessons if I was up late, should I? And how far would my earnings go towards dress, carriages, and all the little expenses which would come if I set up for a young lady in society? I can't do both, and I 'm not going to try, but I can pick up bits of fun as I go along, and be contented with free concerts and lectures, seeing you pretty often, and every Sunday Will is to spend with me, so I shall have quite as much dissipation as is good for me.'
'If you don't come to my parties, I 'll never forgive you,' said Fanny, as Polly paused, while Tom chuckled inwardly at the idea of calling visits from a brother 'dissipation.'
'Any small party, where it will do to wear a plain black silk, I can come to; but the big ones must n't be thought of, thank you.'
It was charming to see the resolution of Polly's face when she said that; for she knew her weakness, and beyond that black silk she had determined not to go. Fanny said no more, for she felt quite sure that Polly would relent when the time came, and she planned to give her a pretty dress for a Christmas present, so that one excuse should be removed.
'I say, Polly, won't you give some of us fellows music lessons? Somebody wants me to play, and I 'd rather learn of you than any Senor Twankydillo,' said Tom, who did n't find the conversation interesting.
'Oh, yes; if any of you boys honestly want to learn, and will behave yourselves, I 'll take you; but I shall charge extra,' answered Polly, with a wicked sparkle of the eye, though her face was quite sober, and her tone delightfully business-like.
'Why, Polly, Tom is n't a boy; he 's twenty, and he says I must treat him with respect.
Besides, he 's engaged, and does put on such airs,' broke in Maud who regarded her brother as a venerable being.
'Who is the little girl?' asked Polly taking the news as a joke.
'Trix; why, did n't you know it?' answered Maud, as if it had been an event of national importance.
'No! is it true, Fan?' and Polly turned to her friend with a face full of surprise, while Tom struck an imposing attitude, and affected absence of mind.
'I forgot to tell you in my last letter; it 's just out, and we don't like it very well,' observed Fanny, who would have preferred to be engaged first herself.
'It 's a very nice thing, and I am perfectly satisfied,' announced Mrs. Shaw, rousing from a slight doze.
'Polly looks as if she did n't believe it. Have n't I the appearance of 'the happiest man alive'?' asked Tom, wondering if it could be pity which he saw in the steady eyes fixed on him.
'No, I don't think you have,' she said, slowly.
'How the deuce should a man look, then?' cried Tom, rather nettled at her sober reception of the grand news.
'As if he had learned to care for some one a great deal more than for himself,'
answered Polly, with sudden color in her cheeks, and a sudden softening of the voice, as her eyes turned away from Tom, who was the picture of a complacent dandy, from the topmost curl of his auburn head to the tips of his aristocratic boots.
'Tommy 's quenched; I agree with you, Polly; I never liked Trix, and I hope it 's only a boy-and-girl fancy, that
