ese true gentlefolk
showed Polly their respect and regard, put many pleasures in her way,
and when they paid her for her work, gave her also the hearty thanks
that takes away all sense of degradation even from the humblest service,
for money so earned and paid sweetens the daily bread it buys, and makes
the mutual obligation a mutual benefit and pleasure.

A few such patrons did much for Polly, and the music she gave them had
an undertone of gratitude that left blithe echoes in those great houses,
which money could not buy.

Then, as her butterfly acquaintances deserted her, she found her way
into a hive of friendly bees, who welcomed her, and showed her how to
find the honey that keeps life sweet and wholesome. Through Miss Mills,
who was the counsellor and comforter of several, Polly came to know
a little sisterhood of busy, happy, independent girls, who each had a
purpose to execute, a talent to develop, an ambition to achieve, and
brought to the work patience and perseverance, hope and courage. Here
Polly found her place at once, for in this little world love and liberty
prevailed; talent, energy, and character took the first rank; money,
fashion, and position were literally nowhere; for here, as in the big
world outside, genius seemed to blossom best when poverty was head
gardener. Young teachers, doing much work for little pay; young artists,
trying to pencil, paint, or carve their way to Rome; young writers,
burning to distinguish themselves; young singers, dreaming of
triumphs, great as those of Jenny Lind; and some who tried to conquer
independence, armed only with a needle, like poor Jane. All these helped
Polly as unconsciously as she helped them, for purpose and principle are
the best teachers we can have, and the want of them makes half the women
of America what they are, restless, aimless, frivolous, and sick.

To outsiders that was a very hard-working and uneventful winter to
Polly. She thought so herself; but as spring came on, the seed of new
virtues, planted in the winter time, and ripened by the sunshine of
endeavor, began to bud in Polly's nature, betraying their presence to
others by the added strength and sweetness of her character, long before
she herself discovered these May flowers that had blossomed for her
underneath the snow.

CHAPTER XII. FORBIDDEN FRUIT

"I 'M perfectly aching for some fun," said Polly to herself as she
opened her window one morning and the sunshine and frosty