"I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense at once; and if I see any more of it, I'll send you to school in a Canadian convent."
This awful threat quite took Polly's breath away; but Fanny had heard it before, and having a temper of her own, said, pertly, "I'm sure I haven't done anything so very dreadful. I can't help it if the boys send me philopena presents, as they do to the other girls."
"There was nothing about philopenas in the note. But that's not the question. I forbid you to have anything to do with this Moore. He's not a boy, but a fast fellow, and I won't have him about. You knew this, and yet disobeyed me."
"I hardly ever see him," began Fanny.
"Is that true?" asked Mr. Shaw, turning suddenly to Polly.
"Oh, please, sir, don't ask me. I promised I wouldn't—that is—Fanny will tell you," cried Polly, quite red with distress at the predicament she was in.
"No matter about your promise; tell me all you know of this absurd affair. It will do Fanny more good than harm." And Mr. Shaw sat down looking more amiable, for Polly's dismay touched him.
"May I?" she whispered to Fanny.
"I don't care," answered Fan, looking both angry and ashamed, as she stood sullenly tying knots in her handkerchief.
So, Polly told, with much reluctance and much questioning, all she knew of the walks, the lunches, the meetings, and the notes. It wasn't much, and evidently less serious than Mr. Shaw expected; for,
