r you talk about dogs, and lame horses, and club
suppers, anybody would suppose you were a sporting man! Pray, what
else do they do in that charming college set of yours?"

"I might have known you would take that tone, but I did n't, somehow.
I told you just because I thought you were the one girl in a thousand
who would understand and advise a fellow when he knows he's made a fool
of himself and acted like a cur! I did n't suppose you would call hard
names, and be so unsympathizing, after all we have gone through
together!"

"I 'm not!--I did n't!--I won't do it again!" said Polly incoherently,
as she took a straight chair, planted her elbows on the table, and
leaned her chin in her two palms. "Now let's talk about it; tell me
everything quickly. How much is it?"

"Nearly two hundred dollars! Don't shudder so provokingly, Polly; that
's a mere bagatelle for a college man, but I know it's a good deal for
me,--a good deal more than I know how to get, at all events."

"Where is the debtors' prison?" asked Polly in an awestruck whisper.

"Oh, there is n't any such thing nowadays! I was only chaffing; but of
course, the men to whom I am in debt can apply to father, and get me in
a regular mess. I 've pawned my watch to stave one of them off. You
see, Polly, I would rather die than do it; nevertheless, I would write
and tell father everything, and ask him for the money, but
circumstances conspire just at this time to make it impossible. You
know he bought that great ranch in Ventura county with Albert Harding
of New York. Harding has died insolvent, and father has to make
certain payments or lose control of a valuable property. It's going to
make him a rich man some time, but for a year or two we shall have to
count every penny. Of course the fruit crop this season has been the
worst in ten years, and of course there has been a frost this winter,
the only severe one within the memory of the oldest inhabitant,--that's
the way it always is,--and there I am! I suppose you despise me,
Polly?"

"Yes, I do!" (hotly)--"No, I don't altogether, and I 'm not good enough
myself to be able to despise people. Besides, you are not a despisable
boy. You were born manly and generous and true-hearted, and these
hateful things that you have been doing are not a part of your nature a
bit; but I 'm ashamed of you for yielding to bad impulses when you have
so many good ones, and--oh dear!--I do that very same thing myself, n