within her reach, and began to ask herself if she could honestly receive the gift, and reward the giver.
At first she tried to think she could; but unfortunately hearts are so "contrary" that they won't be obedient to reason, will, or even gratitude. Polly felt a very cordial friendship for Mr. Sydney, but not one particle of the love which is the only coin in which love can be truly paid. Then she took a fancy into her head that she ought to accept this piece of good fortune for the sake of the family, and forget herself. But this false idea of self-sacrifice did not satisfy, for she was not a fashionable girl, trained to believe that her first duty was to make "a good match," and never mind the consequences, though they rendered her miserable for life. Polly's creed was very simple: "If I don't love him, I ought not to marry him, especially when I do love somebody else, though everything is against me." If she had read as many French novels as some young ladies, she might have considered it interesting to marry under the circumstances and suffer a secret, anguish to make her a romantic victim. But Polly's education had been neglected, and after a good deal of natural indecision, she did what most women do in such cases, thought she would "wait and see."
The discovery of Fanny's secret seemed to show her something to do, for if the "wait-and-see" decision was making her friend unhappy, it must be changed as soon as possible. This finished Polly's indecision, and after that night she never allowed herself to dwell upon the pleasant temptation which came in a guise particularly attractive to a young girl with
