ged on his tastes and preferences, his
likes and dislikes; he gave vent to his real feelings for the country
of his exile, and his longings for "home"; told how he had come to the
colony, in the first instance, with the fantastic notion of redeeming
the fortunes of his family; described his collections of butterflies
and plants to her, using their Latin names. And Polly drank in his
words, and humbly agreed with all he wrote, or at least did not
disagree; and, from this, as have done lovers from the beginning of
time, he inferred a perfect harmony of mind. On one point only did he
press her for a reply. Was she fond of books? If so, what evenings they
would spend together, he reading aloud from some entertaining volume,
she at her fancy work. And poetry? For himself he could truly say he
did not care for poetry ... except on a Saturday night or a quiet
Sunday morning; and that was, because he liked it too well to approach
it with any but a tranquil mind.

I THINK IF I KNOW YOU ARIGHT, AS I BELIEVE I DO, MY POLLY, YOU TOO HAVE
POETRY IN YOUR SOUL.

He smiled at her reply; then kissed it.

I CANNOT WRITE POETRY MYSELF, said Polly, BUT I AM VERY FOND OF IT AND
SHALL INDEED LIKE VERY MUCH DEAR RICHARD TO LISTEN WHEN YOU READ.

But the winter ran away, one cold, wet week succeeding another, and
still they were apart. Mahony urged and pleaded, but could not get
Polly to name the wedding-day. He began to think pressure was being
brought to bear on the girl from another side. Naturally the Beamishes
were reluctant to let her go: who would be so useful to them as
Polly?--who undertake, without scorn, the education of the whilom
shepherd's daughters? Still, they knew they had to lose her, and he
could not see that it made things any easier for them to put off the
evil day. No, there was something else at the bottom of it; though he
did not know what. Then one evening, pondering a letter of Polly's, he
slapped his forehead and exclaimed aloud at his own stupidity. That
night, into his reply he slipped four five-pound notes. JUST TO BUY
YOURSELF ANY LITTLE THING YOU FANCY, DEAREST. IF I CHOSE A GIFT, I
MIGHT SEND WHAT WOULD NOT BE ACCEPTABLE TO YOU. Yes, sure enough, that
was it--little Polly had been in straits for money: the next news he
heard was that she had bought and was stitching her wedding-gown. Taxed
with her need, Polly guiltily admitted that her salary for the past
three months was owing to her. But there ha