ced her whole life, and so we will record it. It
began early; for the hard-hearted little grate would n't behave itself
till she had used up a ruinous quantity of kindlings. Then she scalded
poor Puttel by upsetting her coffee-pot; and instead of a leisurely,
cosy meal, had to hurry away uncomfortably, for everything went wrong
even to the coming off of both bonnet strings in the last dreadful
scramble. Being late, she of course forgot her music, and hurrying back
for it, fell into a puddle, which capped the climax of her despair.

Such a trying morning as that was! Polly felt out of tune herself, and
all the pianos seemed to need a tuner as much as she did. The pupils
were unusually stupid, and two of them announced that their mamma was
going to take them to the South, whither she was suddenly called. This
was a blow, for they had just begun, and Polly had n't the face to send
in a bill for a whole quarter, though her plans and calculations were
sadly disturbed by the failure of that sum.

Trudging home to dinner, tired and disappointed, poor Polly received
another blow, which hurt her more than the loss of all her pupils. As
she went hurrying along with a big music book in one hand and a paper
bag of rolls for tea in the other, she saw Tom and Trix coming. As she
watched them while they slowly approached, looking so gay and handsome
and happy, it seemed to Polly as if all the sunshine and good walking
was on their side of the street, all the wintry wind and mud on hers.
Longing to see a friendly face and receive a kind word, she crossed
over, meaning to nod and smile at least. Trix saw her first, and
suddenly became absorbed in the distant horizon. Tom apparently did not
see her, for his eyes were fixed on a fine horse just prancing by.
Polly thought that he had seen her, and approached with a curious little
flutter at her heart, for if Tom cut her she felt that her cup would be
full.

On they came, Trix intent on the view, Tom staring at the handsome
horse, and Polly, with red checks, expectant eyes, and the brown bundle,
in full sight. One dreadful minute as they came parallel, and no one
spoke or bowed, then it was all over, and Polly went on, feeling as if
some one had slapped her in the face. "She would n't have believed it
of Tom; it was all the doings of that horrid Trix; well, she would n't
trouble him any more, if he was such a snob as to be ashamed of her just
because she carried bundles and worked for her