are against him,
I don't believe Tom Shaw saw you. Miss Trix is equal to that sort of
thing, but it is n't like Tom, for with all his foppery he is a good
fellow at heart."

As Mr. Sydney said this, Polly held out her hand with a hearty "Thank
you for that." The young man shook the little hand in the gray woollen
glove, gave her exactly the same bow which he did the Honorable Mrs.
Davenport, and went away, leaving Polly to walk up stairs and address
Puttel with the peculiar remark, "You are a true gentleman! so kind
to say that about Tom. I 'll think it 's so, anyway; and won't I teach
Minnie in my very best style!"

Puttel purred, Nick chirped approvingly, and Polly ate her dinner with
a better appetite than she had expected. But at the bottom of her heart
there was a sore spot still, and the afternoon lessons dragged dismally.
It was dusk when she got home, and as she sat in the firelight eating
her bread and milk, several tears bedewed the little rolls, and even the
home honey had a bitter taste.

"Now this won't do," she broke out all at once; "this is silly and
wicked, and can't be allowed. I 'll try the old plan and put myself
right by doing some little kindness to somebody. Now what shall it be?
O, I know! Fan is going to a party to-night; I 'll run up and help her
dress; she likes to have me, and I enjoy seeing the pretty things. Yes,
and I 'll take her two or three clusters of my daphne, it 's so sweet."

Up got Polly, and taking her little posy, trotted away to the Shaws',
determined to be happy and contented in spite of Trix and hard work.

She found Fanny enduring torment under the hands of the hair-dresser,
who was doing his best to spoil her hair, and distort her head with
a mass of curls, braids, frizzles, and puffs; for though I discreetly
refrain from any particular description, still, judging from the present
fashions, I think one may venture to predict that six years hence they
would be something frightful.

"How kind of you, Polly; I was just wishing you were here to arrange my
flowers. These lovely daphnes will give odor to my camellias, and you
were a dear to bring them. There 's my dress; how do you like it?" said
Fanny, hardly daring to lift her eyes from under the yellow tower on her
head.

"It 's regularly splendid; but how do you ever get into it?" answered
Polly, surveying with girlish interest the cloud of pink and white lace
that lay upon the bed.

"It 's fearfully and wonderfull