“I wish I’d met you, I’d have given you three cheers and a tiger, for it must have been an imposing spectacle,” said Tom.

“No you wouldn’t; you’d have whisked round the corner when you saw me coming, or have stared straight before you, utterly unconscious of the young woman in the baggage wagon.”

Polly laughed in his face just as she used to do, when she said that, and in spite of the doubt cast upon his courtesy Tom rather liked it, though he had nothing to say for himself but a reproachful,—

“Now, Polly, that’s too bad.”

“True, nevertheless. You must come and see my pets, Maud, for my cat and bird live together as happily as brother and sister,” said Polly, turning to Maud, who devoured every word she said.

“That’s not saying much for them,” muttered Tom, feeling that Polly ought to address more of her conversation to him.

“Polly knows what she’s talking about; her brothers appreciate their sisters,” observed Fanny, in her sharp tone.

“And Polly appreciates her brothers, don’t forget to add that, ma’am,” answered Tom.

“Did I tell you that Will was going to college?” broke in Polly, to avert the rising storm.

“Hope he’ll enjoy himself,” observed Tom, with the air of a man who had passed through all the mysteries, and reached that state of sublime indifference which Juniors seem to pride themselves upon.

“I think he will, he is so fond of study, and is so anxious to improve every opportunity. I only hope he won’t overwork and get sick, as so many boys do,” said simple Polly, with such a respectful belief in the eager thirst for knowledge of collegians as a class, that Tom regarded the deluded girl with a smile of lofty pity, from the heights of his vast and varied experience.

“Guess he won’t hurt himself. I’ll see that he don’t study too hard.” And Tom’s eyes twinkled as they used to do when he planned his boyish pranks.

“I’m afraid you can’t be trusted as a guide, if various rumours I’ve heard are true,” said Polly, looking up at him with a wistful expression that caused his face to assume the sobriety of an owl’s.

“Base slanders; I’m as steady as a clock, an ornament to my class, and a model young man, am I not, mother?” And Tom patted her thin cheek with a caressing hand, sure of one firm friend in her; for when he ceased to be a harum-scarum boy, Mrs. Shaw began to take great pride in her son, and he, missing grandma, tried to fill her place with his feeble mother.

“Yes, dear, you are all I could ask,” and Mrs. Shaw looked up at him with such affection and confidence in her eyes, that Polly gave Tom the first approving look she had vouchsafed him since she came.

Why Tom should look troubled and turn grave all at once, she couldn’t understand, but she liked to see him stroke his mother’s cheek so softly, as he stood with his head resting on the high back of her chair, for Polly fancied that he felt a man’s pity for her weakness, and was learning a son’s patient love for a mother who had had much to bear with him.

“I’m so glad you are going to be here all winter, for we are to be very gay, and I shall enjoy taking you round with me,” began Fanny, forgetting Polly’s plan for a moment.

Polly shook her head decidedly. “It sounds very nice, but it can’t be done, Fan, for I’ve come to work, not play; to save, not spend; and parties will be quite out of the question for me.”