her last brilliant remark, he said quietly, watching her face keenly all the while,—
"I thought so; well, I'm going out of town on business for several weeks, so you can enjoy your 'little bit of country' without being annoyed by me."
"Annoyed? oh, no!" cried Polly, earnestly; then stopped short, not knowing what to say for herself.
She thought she had a good deal of the coquette in her, and I've no doubt that with time and training she would have become a very dangerous little person, but now she was far too transparent and straightforward by nature even to tell a white lie cleverly. Sydney knew this, and liked her for it, but he took advantage of it, nevertheless, by asking suddenly,—
"Honestly, now, wouldn't you go the old way and enjoy it as much as ever, if I wasn't anywhere about to set the busy bodies gossiping?"
"Yes," said Polly, before she could stop herself, and then could have bitten her tongue out for being so rude. Another awful pause seemed impending, but just at that moment a horseman clattered by with a smile and a salute, which caused Polly to exclaim, "Oh, there's Tom!" with a tone and a look that silenced the words hovering on Sydney's lips, and caused him to hold out his hand with a look which made Polly's heart flutter then and ache with pity for a good while afterward, though he only said, "Good by, Polly."
He was gone before she could do anything but look up at him with a remorseful face, and she walked on, feeling that the first and perhaps the only lover she would ever have, had read his answer and accepted it
