"Do bankrupting men" (Maud liked that new word) "always have fits?"
"Mercy, no! What put that into your head, child?" cried Polly.
"Why, Mr. Merton did; and I was thinking perhaps papa had got one down there, and it kind of frightened me."
"Mr. Merton's was a bad, disgraceful failure, and I don't wonder he had a fit. Ours isn't, and papa won't do anything of that sort, you may be sure," said Fanny, with as proud an air as if "our failure" was rather an honor than otherwise.
"Don't you think you and Maud had better go down and see him?" asked Polly.
"Perhaps he wouldn't like it; and I don't know what to say, either," began Fan; but Polly said, eagerly,—
"I know he would, like it. Never mind what you say; just go, and show him that you don't doubt or blame him for this, but love him all the more, and are ready and glad to help him bear the trouble."
"I'm going, I ain't afraid; I'll just hug him, and say I'm ever so glad we are going to the little house," cried Maud, scrambling off the bed, and running down stairs.
"Come with me, Polly, and tell me what to do," said Fanny, drawing her friend after her.
"You'll know what to do when you see him, better than I can tell you," answered Polly, readily yielding, for she knew they considered her 'quite one of the family,' as Tom said.
At the study door they found Maud, whose courage
