't I? Well, I don't know what I should have done when I was a
little girl like you. I dare say, though, that I should have felt just
as you do--have done just as you, I see, are going to do now."

"Bought the paint-box!" cried Polly.

"Yes, bought the paint-box," laughed the lady.

Polly beamed with smiles, and gave a rapturous look at the treasure that
was so soon to be hers. But presently the rapture faded, and a new
expression came into her face. The lady was watching her very
attentively.

"Well, what now?" she inquired. "Doesn't the paint-box suit you?"

Polly gave an emphatic nod. Perhaps it was that nod that sent two little
tears to her eyes.

"Then, if it suits you, shall I speak to the clerk, and tell him you've
changed your mind about the valentine, and will buy the paint-box?"

Polly shook her head, and two more tears followed the first ones.

"You're not going to buy the paint-box?"

"N-o, I--I gu-ess not. I guess I'll buy the valentine. Jane didn't ever
get a valentine, and she hasn't got anybody to give her one but me."

The blurring tears made Polly's eyes so dim here, she could scarcely
see; but through the dimness she sent one last good-by look at the dear
paint-box, and then resolutely turned to the valentines, from which she
selected the biggest and "bewt'f'lest" she could find, the lady crowning
her kindness by stamping and directing it, and finally mailing it in the
letterbox just outside the shop door.

CHAPTER III.

"What yer watchin' for, Polly?"

Polly didn't answer.

"Guess I know," said Martha, laughing; "yer watchin' for the postman to
bring yer a valentine."

"I ain't," said Polly.

Just then the postman crossed the street, and ring, ring, went the Home
bell.

"I told you so," said Martha, as she ran down to answer it. In a minute
she was back again holding out a big square envelope, and saying again,
"I told you so."

"'T ain't for me," cried Polly.

"Ain't your name Polly Price?"

"Yes," faltered Polly.

"Well, here 's 'Polly Price' written as plain as print. Just look now!"
and Martha held forth the missive.

Polly looked. She could read her own name in writing; and there it was,
sure enough, plain as print,--Polly Price, and it was written on an
envelope exactly like the one she had chosen to send to Jane. A fearful
thought came into Polly's mind. She had told the lady her own
name,--Polly Price,--and it was Polly Price she had written on the
envelop