much I hoped, and what a dreadful loss it's going to be."
Two great tears rolled down Polly's cheeks, and Fanny wiped them away, feeling an intense desire to go West by the next train, wither Maria Bailey with a single look, and bring Tom back as a gift to Polly.
"It was so stupid of me not to guess before. But you see Tom always seems so like a boy, and you are more womanly for your age than any girl I know, so I never thought of your caring for him in that way. I knew you were very good to him, you are to every one, my precious; and I knew that he was fond of you as he is of me, fonder if anything, because he thinks you are perfect; but still I never dreamed of his loving you more than a dear friend."
"He doesn't," sighed Polly.
"Well, he ought; and if I could get hold of him, he should!"
Polly clutched Fan at that, and held her tight, saying, sternly,—
"If you ever breathe a word, drop a hint, look a look that will tell him or any one else about me, I'll—yes, as sure as my name is Mary Milton—I'll proclaim from the housetops that you like Ar." Polly got no further, for Fan's hand was on her mouth, and Fan's alarmed voice vehemently protested,—
"I won't! I promise solemnly I'll never say a word to a mortal creature. Don't be so fierce, Polly; you quite frighten me."
"It's bad enough to love some one who don't love you, but to have them told of it is perfectly awful. It makes me wild just to think of it. Oh, Fan, I'm
