that her cheeks no longer burned, and that the fire
had died out in her eyes. Her face was pale, and its expression sad,
but enduring.

"Polly," said I, kindly, "sit down. I would like to have some talk with
you."

The girl seemed taken by surprise. Her face warmed a little, and her
eyes, which had been turned aside from mine, looked at me with a glance
of inquiry.

"There, Polly"--and I pointed to a chair--"sit down."

She obeyed, but with a weary, patient air, like one whose feelings were
painfully oppressed.

"Polly," said I, with kindness and interest in my voice, "has anything
troubled you of late?"

Her face flushed and her eyes reddened.

"If there has, Polly, and I can help you in any way, speak to me as a
friend. You can trust me."

I was not prepared for the sudden and strong emotion that instantly
manifested itself. Her face fell into her hands, and she sobbed out,
with a violence that startled me. I waited until she grew calm, and
then said, laying a hand kindly upon her as I spoke--

"Polly, you can talk to me as freely as if I were your mother. Speak
plainly, and if I can advise you or aid you in any way, be sure that I
will do it."

"I don't think you can help me any, ma'am, unless it is to bear my
trouble more patiently," she answered, in a subdued way.

"Trouble, child! What trouble? Has anything gone wrong with you?"

The manner in which this inquiry was made, aroused her, and she said
quickly and with feeling:

"Wrong with _me_? O no, ma'am!"

"But you are in trouble, Polly."

"Not for myself, ma'am--not for myself," was her earnest reply.

"For whom, then, Polly?"

The girl did not answer for some moments. Then with a long, deep sigh,
she said:

"You never saw my brother Tom, ma'am. Oh, he was such a nice boy, and I
was so fond of him! He had a hard place where he worked, and they paid
him so little that, poor fellow! if I hadn't spent half my wages on
him, he'd never have looked fit to be seen among folks. When he was
eighteen he seemed to me perfect. He was so good and kind. But--" and
the girl's voice almost broke down--"somehow, he began to change after
that. I think he fell into bad company. Oh, ma'am! It seemed as if it
would have killed me the first time I found that he had been drinking,
and was not himself. I cried all night for two or three nights. When we
met again I tried to talk with Tom about it, but he wouldn't hear a
word, and, for the first time in his life,