"Half the awful stories in the papers are made up for a sensation, and it's absurd to believe them, unless one likes to be harrowed up. I don't; and as for peace, I'm not likely to get much, while I have Tom to look after," said Trix, with an aggravating laugh.
Polly's needle snapped in two, but she did not mind it, as she said, with a look that silenced even sharp-tongued Trix,—
"I can't help believing what my own eyes and ears have seen and heard. You lead such safe and happy lives, you can't imagine the misery that is all round you; but if you could get a glimpse of it, it would make your hearts ache, as it has mine."
"Do you suffer from heartache? Some one hinted as much to me, but you looked so well, I couldn't believe it."
Now that was cruel in Trix, more cruel than any one guessed; but girls' tongues can deal wounds as sharp and sudden as the slender stiletto Spanish women wear in their hair, and Polly turned pale, as those words stabbed her. Belle saw it, and rushed to the rescue with more good-will than wisdom.
"Nobody ever accused you of having any heart to ache with. Polly and I are not old enough yet to get tough and cool, and we are still silly enough to pity unhappy people, Tom Shaw especially," added Belle, under her breath.
That was a two-edged thrust, for Trix was decidedly an old girl, and Tom was generally regarded as a hapless victim. Trix turned red; but before she could load and fire again, Emma Davenport, who labored under the delusion that this sort of skirmish-
