“Why not? Are you angry? I didn’t tell.” And Tom looked amazed at the change which had come over her.

“No; you kept your word, and stood by me like a good boy. I’m not angry, either; but I don’t mean to coast any more. Your mother doesn’t like it.”

“That isn’t the reason, I know. You nodded to me after she’d freed her mind, and you meant to go then. Come, now, what is it?”

“I shan’t tell you; but I’m not going,” was Polly’s determined answer.

“Well, I did think you had more sense than most girls; but you haven’t, and I wouldn’t give a sixpence for you.”

“That’s polite,” said Polly, getting ruffled.

“Well, I hate cowards.”

“I am not a coward.”

“Yes, you are. You’re afraid of what folks will say; are you not, now?”

Polly knew she was, and held her peace, though she longed to speak; but how could she?

“Ah, I knew you’d back out.” And Tom walked away with an air of scorn that cut Polly to the heart.

“It’s too bad! Just as he was growing kind to me, and I was going to have a good time, it’s all spoilt by Fan’s nonsense. Mrs. Shaw don’t like it, nor grandma either, I dare say. There be a fuss if I go, and Fan will plague me; so I’ll give it up, and let Tom think I’m afraid. Oh, dear! I never did see such ridiculous people.”

Polly shut her door hard, and felt ready to cry with vexation, that her pleasure should be spoilt by such a silly idea; for, of all the silly freaks of this fast age, that of little people playing at love is about the silliest. Polly had been taught that it was a very serious and sacred thing; and, according to her notions, it was far more improper to flirt with one boy than to coast with a dozen. She had been much amazed, only the day before, to hear Maud say to her mother, “Mamma, must I have a beau? The girls all do, and say I ought to have Fweddy Lovell; but I don’t like him as well as Hawry Fiske.”

“Oh, yes; I’d have a little sweetheart, dear, it’s so cunning,” answered Mrs. Shaw. And Maud announced soon after that she was engaged to “Fweddy,’ cause Hawry slapped her” when she proposed the match.

Polly laughed with the rest at the time; but when she thought of it afterward, and wondered what her own mother would have said, if little Kitty had put such a question, she didn’t find it cunning or funny, but ridiculous and unnatural. She felt so now about herself; and when her first petulance was over, resolved to give up coasting and everything else, rather than have any nonsense with Tom, who, thanks to his neglected education, was as ignorant as herself of the charms of this new amusement for school-children. So Polly tried to console herself by jumping rope in the back-yard, and playing tag with Maud in the drying-room, where she likewise gave lessons in “nasgim-nics”, as Maud called it, which did that little person good. Fanny came up sometimes, to teach them a new dancing step, and more than once was betrayed into a game of romps, for which she was none the worse. But Tom turned a cold shoulder to Polly, and made it evident, by his cavalier manner, that he really didn’t think her “worth a sixpence”.

Another thing that troubled Polly was her clothes; for, though no one said anything, she knew they were very plain; and now and then she wished that her blue and mouse-coloured merinos were rather more trimmed, her sashes had bigger bows, and her little ruffles more lace on them. She sighed for a locket, and, for the first time in her life, thought seriously of turning up her pretty curls and putting on a “wad”.