red, had a good deal to do lately, and the dull weather
makes me just a trifle blue. I shall soon brighten up when I get to my
work again," answered Polly, bustling about to put away her things.

"You don't look a bit natural. What have you been doing to your precious
little self?" persisted Fanny, troubled by the change, yet finding it
hard to say wherein it lay.

Polly did not look sick, though her cheeks were thinner and her color
paler than formerly, but she seemed spiritless, and there was a tired
look in her eyes that went to Fanny's heart.

"I 'm all right enough, as you 'll see when I 'm in order. I 'm proper
glad to find you looking so well and happy. Does all go smoothly, Fan?"
asked Polly, beginning to brush her hair industriously.

"Answer me one question first," said Fanny, looking as if a sudden fear
had come over her. "Tell me, truly, have you never repented of your hint
to Sydney?"

"Never!" cried Polly, throwing back the brown veil behind which she had
half hidden her face at first.

"On your honor, as an honest girl?"

"On my honor, as anything you please. Why do you suspect me of it?"
demanded Polly, almost angrily.

"Because something is wrong with you. It 's no use to deny it, for you
've got the look I used to see in that very glass on my own face when I
thought he cared for you. Forgive me, Polly, but I can't help saying it,
for it is there, and I want to be as true to you as you were to me if I
can."

Fanny's face was full of agitation, and she spoke fast and frankly, for
she was trying to be generous and found it very hard. Polly understood
now and put her fear at rest by saying almost passionately, "I tell you
I don't love him! If he was the only man in the world, I would n't marry
him, because I don't want to."

The last three words were added in a different tone, for Polly had
checked herself there with a half-frightened look and turned away to
hide her face behind her hair again.

"Then if it 's not him, it 's some one else. You 've got a secret,
Polly, and I should think you might tell it, as you know mine," said
Fanny, unable to rest till everything was told, for Polly's manner
troubled her.

There was no answer to her question, but she was satisfied and putting
her arm round her friend, she said, in her most persuasive tone, "My
precious Polly, do I know him?"

"You have seen him."

"And is he very wise, good, and splendid, dear?"

"No."

"He ought to be if you love