her thoughts as she saw the card, and turning toward her, she held it
up, saying, with a conscious look in her eyes, "You thought Mr. Sydney
sent them? Well, you are mistaken, and the next time you want to know
anything, please ask straight out. I like it better than talking at
cross purposes."

"Now, my dear, don't be angry; I was only teasing you in fun. Tom took
it into his foolish head that something was going on, and I felt a
natural interest, you know."

"Tom! What does he know or care about my affairs?" demanded Polly.

"He met you two in the street pretty often, and being in a sentimental
mood himself, got up a romance for you and Sydney."

"I 'm much obliged to him for his interest, but it 's quite wasted,
thank you."

Fan's next proceeding gave her friend another surprise, for, being
rather ashamed of herself, very much relieved, and quite at a loss what
to say, she took refuge in an hysterical fit of tears, which changed
Polly's anger into tenderness at once.

"Is that the trouble she has been hiding all winter? Poor dear, I wish
I 'd known it sooner," thought Polly, as she tried to soothe her with
comfortable pats, sniffs of cologne and sympathizing remarks upon the
subject of headache, carefully ignoring that other feminine affliction,
the heartache.

"There, I feel better. I 've been needing a good cry for some time, and
now I shall be all right. Never mind it, Polly, I 'm nervous and tired;
I 've danced too much lately, and dyspepsia makes me blue;" and Fanny
wiped her eyes and laughed.

"Of course it does; you need rest and petting, and here I 've been
scolding you, when I ought to have been extra kind. Now tell me what I
can do for you," said Polly, with a remorseful face.

"Talk to me, and tell me all about yourself. You don't seem to have as
many worries as other people. What's the secret, Polly?" And Fan looked
up with wet eyes, and a wistful face at Polly, who was putting little
dabs of cologne all over her head.

"Well," said Polly, slowly, "I just try to look on the bright side of
things; that helps one amazingly. Why, you 've no idea how much goodness
and sunshine you can get out of the most unpromising things, if you make
the best of them."

"I don't know how," said Fan, despondently.

"You can learn; I did. I used to croak and fret dreadfully, and get so
unhappy, I was n't fit for anything. I do it still more than I ought,
but I try not to, and it gets easier, I find. Get a-top o