back among the flowers which he took from her, saying, shortly, "Send Fanny to me in the library."
"Now you've done it, you stupid thing!" cried Fanny, both angry and dismayed, when Polly delivered the message.
"Why, what else could I do?" asked Polly, much disturbed.
"Let him think the bouquet was for you; then there'd have been no trouble."
"But that would have been doing a lie, which is most as bad as telling one."
"Don't be a goose. You've got me into a scrape, and you ought to help me out."
"I will if I can; but I won't tell lies for anybody!" cried Polly, getting excited.
"Nobody wants you to. Just hold your tongue, and let me manage."
"Then I'd better not go down," began Polly, when a stern voice from below called, like Bluebeard, "Are you coming down?"
"Yes, sir," answered a meek voice; and Fanny clutched Polly, whispering, "You must come; I'm frightened out of my wits when he speaks like that. Stand by me, Polly; there's a dear."
"I will," whispered "sister Ann"; and down they went with fluttering hearts.
Mr. Shaw stood on the rug, looking rather grim; the bouquet lay on the table, and beside it a note, directed to "Frank Moore, Esq.," in a very decided hand, with a fierce-looking flourish after the "Esq." Pointing to this impressive epistle, Mr. Shaw said, knitting his black eyebrows as he looked at Fanny,
