she passed a gray old couple walking placidly together in the sunshine, she felt better still, and was glad to see such a happy ending to the romance she had read all down the street.
As if the mischievous little god wished to take Polly at a disadvantage, or perhaps to give her another chance, just at that instant Mr. Sydney appeared at her side. How he got there was never very clear to Polly, but there he was, flushed, and a little out of breath, but looking so glad to see her that she hadn't the heart to be stiff and cool, as she had fully intended to be when they met.
"Very warm, isn't it?" he said, when he had shaken hands, and fallen into step, just in the old way.
"You seem to find it so." And Polly laughed, with a sudden sparkle in her eyes. She really couldn't help it, it was so pleasant to see him again, just when she was feeling so lonely.
"Have you given up teaching the Roths?" asked Sydney, changing the subject.
"No."
"Do you go, as usual?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's a mystery to me how you get there."
"As much as it is to me how you got here so suddenly."
"I saw you from the Shaws' window, and took the liberty of running after you by the back street," he said, laughing.
"That is the way I get to the Roths," answered Polly. She did not mean to tell, but his frankness was so agreeable she forgot herself.
