"He looked perfectly bowed down with remorse last time I saw him," said Will, regarding Tom with eyes full of fun, for Will was a boy as well as a bookworm, and relished a joke as well as scatter-brained Tom.
"He always is remorseful after a scrape, I've understood, for he isn't a very bad fellow, only his spirits are one too many for him, and he isn't as fond of his book as another fellow I know."
"I'm afraid he'll be expelled if he don't mind," said Polly, warningly.
"Shouldn't wonder if he was, he's such an unlucky dog," answered Tom, rather soberly.
"I hope he'll remember that his friends will be very much disappointed if he is. He might make them so proud and happy; that I guess he will, for he isn't half as thoughtless as he makes himself out," said Polly, looking across at Tom with such friendly eyes that he was quite touched, though of course he didn't show it.
"Thank you, Polly; he may pull through, but I have my doubts. Now, old man, let us 'pud' along; it's getting late for the chicken," he added, relapsing into the graceful diction with which a classical education gifts its fortunate possessor.
Taking advantage of the moment while Will was wrestling with his boots in the closet, and Maud was absorbed in packing her apple into a large basket, Polly said to Tom in a low tone,—
"Thank you very much, for being so kind to Will."
"Bless your heart, I haven't done anything; he's such a proud fellow he won't let me," answered Tom.
