ting as you walked the street, but the calm
expression of your face emboldened me to send my child to you. And when
I saw you bend your head to speak tenderly to her, I prayed to GOD to
forgive me for having ever brought a sorrow on it. I now pray to you to
forgive me, and to forgive my husband. I was very young, he was young
too, and in the ignorant hardihood of such a time of life we don't know
what we do to those who have undergone more discipline. You generous
man! You good man! So to raise me up and make nothing of my crime
against you!"--for he would not see her on her knees, and soothed her as
a kind father might have soothed an erring daughter--"thank you, bless
you, thank you!"

When he next spoke, it was after having drawn aside the window-curtain
and looked out a while. Then, he only said:

"Is Polly asleep?"

"Yes. As I came in, I met her going away up-stairs, and put her to bed
myself."

"Leave her with me for to-morrow, Beatrice, and write me your address on
this leaf of my pocket-book. In the evening I will bring her home to
you--and to her father."

* * * * *

"Hallo!" cried Polly, putting her saucy sunny face in at the door next
morning when breakfast was ready: "I thought I was fetched last night?"

"So you were, Polly, but I asked leave to keep you here for the day, and
to take you home in the evening."

"Upon my word!" said Polly. "You are very cool, ain't you?"

However, Polly seemed to think it a good idea, and added, "I suppose I
must give you a kiss, though you _are_ cool." The kiss given and taken,
they sat down to breakfast in a highly conversational tone.

"Of course, you are going to amuse me?" said Polly.

"Oh, of course," said Barbox Brothers.

In the pleasurable height of her anticipations, Polly found it
indispensable to put down her piece of toast, cross one of her little fat
knees over the other, and bring her little fat right hand down into her
left hand with a business-like slap. After this gathering of herself
together, Polly, by that time, a mere heap of dimples, asked in a
wheedling manner: "What are we going to do, you dear old thing?"

"Why, I was thinking," said Barbox Brothers, "--but are you fond of
horses, Polly?"

"Ponies, I am," said Polly, "especially when their tails are long. But
horses--n--no--too big, you know."

"Well," pursued Barbox Brothers, in a spirit of grave mysterious
confidence adapted to the imp