jects went sweeping through her mind. "I wish you could be with Ned; you'd get on together, I'm sure; and he'd be so glad to do anything he could. I'll write and ask, straight away, if you want me to."
"Suppose you do; just for information, you know, then I shall have something to go upon. I want to have a feasible plan all ready, before I speak to father. There's nothing so convincing to business men as facts, you know."
Polly could not help smiling at Tom's new tone, it seemed so strange to hear him talking about anything but horses and tailors, dancing and girls. She liked it, however, as much as she did the sober expression of his face, and the way he had lately of swinging his arms about, as if he wanted to do something energetic with them.
"That will be wise. Do you think your father will like this plan?"
"Pretty sure he will. Yesterday, when I told him I must go at something right off, he said, 'Anything honest, Tom, and don't forget that your father began the world as a shop-boy.' You knew that, didn't you?"
"Yes, he told me the story once, and I always liked to hear it, because it was pleasant to see how well he had succeeded."
"I never did like the story, a little bit ashamed, I'm afraid; but when we talked it over last night, it struck me in a new light, and I understood why father took the failure so well, and seems so contented with this poorish place. It is only beginning again, he says; and having worked his way up once, he feels as if he could again. I declare to you, Polly, that sort
