THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 MRS. L. T. MEADE.
 
 Polly : 
 
 A New- Fashioned Girl 
 
 By 
 
 L. T. Meade 
 
 Illustrated 
 
 New York and Boston 
 
 H. M. Caldwell Company 
 
 Publishers
 
 ps 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTK* FAG 
 
 I. A GREAT MISFORTUNE 5 
 
 II. ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY 10 
 
 HI. " BE BRAVE, DEAR." 14 
 
 IV. QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME 20 
 
 V. A SAFETY-VALVE 36 
 
 VI. POLLY'S RAID 31 
 
 VII. THE GROWN-UPS 36 
 
 VIII. SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME ? 43 
 
 IX. LIMITS , 50 
 
 X. INDIGESTION WEEK 57 
 
 XI. A WAS AN APPLE PIE 64 
 
 XII. POTATOES MINUS POINT 73 
 
 XIII. INTHEATTIC 78 
 
 XIV. AUNT MARIA 87 
 
 XV. PUNISHMENT 96 
 
 XVI. DR. MAYBRIQHT versus SCORPION. 104 
 
 XVII. " WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN ? " 112 
 
 XVIII. THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES 118 
 
 XIX. DISTRESSED HEROINES 126 
 
 3 
 
 222624S
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 XX. Lours 13 
 
 XXT, THE HIGH MOUNTAINS v 135 
 
 PART II. 
 
 I. A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS 140 
 
 II. A YOUNG QUEEN 146 
 
 III. Nor LIKE OTHERS 160 
 
 IV. A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN 166 
 
 V. FORSAKEN 175 
 
 VI. WITHOUT HER TREASURE 184 
 
 VII. MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE 191 
 
 VHI. THE HERMIT'S HUT le8 
 
 IX. AN OLD SONG 206 
 
 X. LOOKING AT HERSELF 213 
 
 XI. THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND 221 
 
 XII. RELICS ANDAWELCOME 229 
 
 XIII. VERY ROUGH WEATHER 236 
 
 XIV. A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE 245 
 
 OKI 
 
 XV. A DILEMMA 
 
 2K5 
 
 XVI. FIREFLY 
 
 XVII. TOTHE RESCUE 262 
 
 MO 
 
 XVIII. OH, FIE! POLLY 
 
 XIX. ONE YEAR AFTER 279
 
 POLLY : A NEW-FASHIONED GIRL, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A GREAT MISFORTUNE. 
 
 IT was an intensely hot July day not a cloud 
 appeared in the high blue vault of the sky ; the 
 trees, the flowers, the grasses, were all motionless, 
 for not even the gentlest zephyr of a breeze was 
 abroad ; the whole world seemed lapped in a sort of 
 drowsy, hot, languorous slumber. Even the flowers 
 bowed their heads a little weariedly, and the birds 
 after a time ceased singing, and got into the coolest 
 and most shady parts of the great forest trees. 
 There they sat and talked to one another of the 
 glorious weather, for they liked the heat, although 
 it made them too lazy to sing. 
 
 It was an open plain of country, and although 
 there were clumps of trees here and there, great 
 clumps with cool shade under them, there were also 
 acres and acres of common land on which the sun 
 beat remorselessly. This land was covered with 
 heather, not yet in flower, and with bracken, which 
 was already putting on its autumn glory of yellow 
 and red. Neither the bracken nor the heather mind 
 ed the July heat, but the butterflies thought it a 
 trifle uncomfortable, and made for the clumps of 
 trees, and looked longingly and regretfully at what 
 
 5
 
 6 POLLY. 
 
 had been a noisy, babbling little brook, but was now 
 a dry and stony channel, deserted even by the 
 dragon flies. 
 
 At the other side of the brook was a hedge, 
 composed principally of wild roses and hawthorn 
 bushes, and beyond the hedge was a wide dyke, and 
 at the top of the dyke a wire paling, and beyond 
 that again, a good-sized vegetable garden. 
 
 From the tops of the trees, had any one been 
 energetic enough to climb up there, or had any bird 
 been sufficiently endowed with curiosity to glance 
 his bright eyes in that direction, might have been 
 seen smoke, ascending straight up into the air, and 
 proceeding from the kitchen chimneys of a square- 
 built, gray house. 
 
 The house was nearly covered with creepers, and 
 had a trellis porch, sheltering and protecting its 
 open hall-door. Pigeons were cooing near, and 
 several dogs were lying flat out, in the shade which 
 the wide eaves of the house afforded. There was 
 a flower-garden in front, and a wide gravel sweep, 
 and a tennis-court and croquet lawn, and a rose- 
 arbor, and even a great, wide, cool-looking tent. 
 But as far as human life was concerned the whole 
 place looked absolutely deserted. The pigeons cooed 
 languidly, and the dogs yapped and yawned, and 
 made ferocious snaps at audacious and troublesome 
 flies. But no one handled the tennis bats, nor took 
 up the croquet mallets ; no one stopped to admire 
 the roses, and no one entered the cool, inviting tent. 
 The whole place might have been dead, as far as 
 human life was concerned ; and although the smoke 
 did ascend straight up from the kitchen chimney, a 
 vagrant or a tramp might have been tempted to 
 enter the house by the open hall-door, were it not 
 protected by the lazy dogs.
 
 A GREAT MISFORTUNE. 7 
 
 Up, however, by the hedge, at the other side of 
 the kitchen-garden, could be heard just then the 
 crackle of a bough, the rustle of a dress, and a short, 
 smothered, impatient exclamation. And had any 
 one peered very close they would have seen lying 
 flat in the long grasses a tall, slender, half-grown 
 girl, with dark eyes and rosy cheeks, and tangled 
 curly rebellious locks. She had one arm raised, and 
 was drawing herself deliberately an inch at a time 
 along the smooth grass. Several birds had taken 
 refuge in this fragrant hedge of hawthorn and wild 
 roses. They were talking to one another, keeping 
 up a perpetual chatter ; but whenever the girl 
 stirred a twig, or disturbed a branch, they stopped, 
 looking around them in alarm, but none of them as 
 yet seeing the prone, slim figure, which was, indeed 
 almost covered by the grasses. Perfect stillness 
 once more the birds resumed their conversation, 
 and the girl made another slight movement forward. 
 This time she disturbed no twig, and interrupted 
 none of the bird-gossip. She was near, very near a 
 tempting green bough, and on the bough sat two 
 full-grown lovely thrushes ; they were not singing, 
 but were holding a very gentle and affectionate con 
 versation, sitting close together, and looking at one 
 another out of their bright eyes, and now and then 
 kissing each other with that loving little peck which 
 means a great deal in bird-life. 
 
 The girl felt her heart beating with excitement 
 the birds were within a few inches of her she 
 could see their breasts heaving as they talked. Her 
 own eyes were as bright as theirs with excitement ; 
 she got quite under them, made a sudden upward, 
 dexterous movement, and laid a warm, detaining 
 hand on each thrush. The deed was done the 
 little prisoners were secured. She gave a low laugh
 
 8 POLLY. 
 
 of ecstasy, and sitting upright in the long grass, 
 began gently to fondle her prey, cooing as she 
 talked to them, and trying to coax the terrified little 
 prisoners to accept some kisses from her dainty red 
 lips. 
 
 Poll ! Where's Polly Parrot ? Poll Poll- 
 Poll ! " came a chorus of voices. " Poll, you're 
 wanted at the house this minute. Where are you 
 hiding ? You're wanted at home this minute ! 
 Polly Parrot where are you, Polly ? " 
 
 " Oh, bother ! " exclaimed the girl under her 
 breath ; " then I must let you go, darlings, and I 
 never, never had two of you in my arms at the same 
 moment before. It's always so. I'm always in 
 terrupted when I'm enjoying ecstasy. Well, good 
 bye, sweets. Be happy bless you, darlings 1 " 
 
 She blew a kiss to the released and delighted 
 thrushes, and stood upright, looking very lanky and 
 cross and disreputable, with bits of grass and twig 
 sticking in her hair, and messing and staining her 
 faded, washed cotton frock. 
 
 " Now, what are you up to, you scamps ? can't 
 you let a body be ? " 
 
 Oh, Polly ! " 
 
 Two little figures came tumbling down the gravel 
 walk at the other side of the wire fence. They were 
 hot and panting, and both destitute of hats. 
 
 " Polly, you're wanted at the house. Helen says 
 so ; there's a b-b-baby come. Polly Perkins Poll 
 Parrot, you'd better come home at once, there's a 
 new b-b-baby just come ! " 
 
 " A what ? " said Polly. She vaulted the dyke, 
 cleared the fence, and kneeling on the ground beside 
 her two excited, panting little brothers, flung a hot, 
 detaining arm round each. 
 
 " A baby ! it isn't true, Bunny ? it isn't true,
 
 A GREAT MISFORTUNE. 9 
 
 Bob ? A real live baby ? Not a doll ! a baby that 
 will scream and wriggle up its face ! But it can't 
 be. Oh, heavenly ! oh, delicious ! But it can't be 
 true, it can't! You're always making up stories, 
 Bunny ! " 
 
 "Not this time," said Bunny. "You tell her, 
 Bob she'll believe you. I heard it yelling oh, 
 didn't it yell, just ! And Helen came, and said to 
 send Polly in. Helen was crying, I don't know 
 what about, and she said you were to go in at once. 
 Why, what is the matter, Poll Parrot?" 
 
 " Nothing," said Polly, " only you might have 
 told me about Helen crying before. Helen never 
 cries unless there's something perfectly awful going 
 to happen. Stay out in the garden, you two boys 
 make yourselves sick with gooseberries, if you like, 
 only don't come near the house, and don't make the 
 tiniest little bit of noise. A new baby and Helen 
 crying! But mother I'll find out what it means 
 trom mother ! " 
 
 Polly had long legs, and they bore her quickly in 
 a swift race or canter to the house. When she 
 approached the porch the dogs all got up in a body 
 to meet her ; there were seven or eight dogs, and 
 they surrounded her, impeding her progress. 
 
 " Not a bark out of one of you," she said, sternly, 
 "lie down go to sleep. If you even give a yelp 
 I'll come out by-and-by and beat you. " Oh, Alice, 
 what is it ? What's the matter ? " 
 
 A maid-servant was standing in the wide, square 
 hall. 
 
 " What is the matter, Alice ? What is wrong ? 
 There's a new baby I'm delighted at that. But 
 why is Helen crying, and oh ! oh ! what does it 
 mean you are crying, too, Alice." 
 
 "It's Miss Polly, I can't tell you," began the
 
 10 POLLY. 
 
 girl, She threw her apron over her head, and 
 sobbed loudly. " We didn't know where you was, 
 
 miss it's, it's We have been looking for you 
 
 everywhere, miss. Why, Miss Polly, you're as white, 
 as white Don't take on now, miss, dear." 
 
 " You needn't say any more," gasped Polly, sink 
 ing down into a garden chair. " I'm not going to 
 faint, or do anything silly. And I'm not going to 
 cry either. Where's Helen? If there's anything 
 bad she'll tell me. Oh, do stop making that horrid 
 noise, Alice, you irritate me so dreadfully ! " 
 
 Alice dashed out of the open door, and Polly 
 heard her sobbing again, and talking frantically to 
 the dogs. There was no other sound of any sort. 
 The intense stillness of the house had a half-stun 
 ning, half -calming effect on the startled child. She 
 rose, and walked slowly up-stairs to the first land 
 ing. 
 
 " Polly," said her sister Helen, " you've come at 
 last. Where were you hiding ? oh, poor Polly ! " 
 
 " Where's mother ? " said Polly. " I want her 
 let me go to her let, me go to her at once, Nell." 
 
 " Oh, Polly " 
 
 Helen's sobs came now, loud, deep, and distressful. 
 There was a new baby but no mother for Polly 
 any more. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ALT. ABOUT THE FAMILY. 
 
 DR. MAYBBIGHT had eight children, and the sweet 
 est and most attractive wife of any man in the 
 neighborhood. He had a considerable country prac 
 tice, was popular among his patients, and he and hia
 
 ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY. H 
 
 were adored by the villagers, for the Maybrights 
 had lived in the neighborhood of the little village 
 of Tyrsley Dale for many generations. Dr. May- 
 bright's father had ministered to the temporal wants 
 of the fathers and mothers of these very same 
 villagers ; and his father before him had also been 
 in the profession, and had done his best for the 
 inhabitants of Tyrsley Dale. It was little wonder, 
 therefore, that the simple folks who lived in the 
 little antiquated village on the borders of one of 
 our great southern moors should have thought that 
 to the Maybrights alone of the whole race of man 
 kind had been given the art of healing. 
 
 For three or four generations the Maybright 
 family had lived at Sleepy Hollow, which was the 
 name of the square gray house, with its large 
 vegetable garden, its sheltered clump of forest trees, 
 and its cultivated flower and pleasure grounds. 
 Here, in the old nursery, Polly had first opened her 
 bright blue-black eyes; in this house Dr. May- 
 bright's eight children had lived happily, and en 
 joyed all the sunshine of the happiest of happy 
 childhoods to the full. They were all high-spirited 
 and fearless ; each child had a certain amount of 
 individuality. Perhaps Polly was the naughtiest 
 and the most peculiar ; but her little spirits of in 
 subordination speedily came to nothing, for mother, 
 without ever being angry, or ever saying anything 
 that could hurt Polly's sensitive feelings, had always, 
 with firm and gentle hand, put an extinguisher on 
 them. 
 
 Mother was really, then, the life of the house. 
 She was young to have such tall slips of daughters, 
 and such little wild pickles of sons ; and she was 
 so pretty and so merry, and in such ecstasies over a 
 picnic, and so childishly exultant when Helen, or
 
 12 POLLY. 
 
 Polly, or Katie, won a prize or did anything the 
 least bit extraordinary, that she was voted the best 
 playfellow in the world. 
 
 Mother was never idle, and yet she was always at 
 leisure, and so she managed to obtain the confidences 
 of all the children ; she thoroughly understood each 
 individual character, and she led her small brood 
 with silken reins. 
 
 Dr. Maybright was a great deal older than his 
 wife. He was a tall man, still very erect in his 
 figure, with square shoulders, and a keen, bright, 
 kindly face. He had a large practice, extending 
 over many miles, and although he had not the 
 experience which life in a city would have given 
 him, he was a very clever physician, and many of 
 his brothers in the profession prophesied eminence 
 for him whenever he chose to come forward and 
 take it. Dr. Maybright was often absent from home 
 all day long, sometimes also in the dead of night 
 the children heard his carriage wheels as they bowled 
 away on some errand of mercy. Polly always 
 thought of her father as a sort of angel of healing, 
 who came here, there, and everywhere, and took 
 illness and death away with him. 
 
 " Father won't let Josie Wilson die," Polly used to 
 say ! or, " What bad toothache Peter Simpkins has 
 to-day but when father sees him he will be all 
 right." 
 
 Polly had a great reverence for her father, al 
 though she loved her beautiful young mother best. 
 The children never expected Dr. Maybright to join 
 in their games, or to be sympathetic over their joys 
 or their woes. They reverenced him much,they loved 
 him well, but he was too busy and too great to be 
 troubled by their little concerns. Of course, mother
 
 ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY. 13 
 
 was different, for mother was part and parcel of their 
 lives. 
 
 There were six tall, slim, rather straggling-look 
 ing Maybright girls all overgrown, and long of 
 limb, and short of frock. Then there came two 
 podgy boys, greater pickles than the girls, more 
 hopelessly disreputable, more defiant of all author 
 ity, except mother's. Polly was as bad as her 
 brothers in this respect, but the other five girls were 
 docility itself compared to these black lambs, whose 
 proper names were Charley and John, but who never 
 had been called anything, and never would be called 
 anything in that select circle, but Bunny and Bob. 
 
 This was the family ; the more refined neighbors 
 rather dreaded them, and even the villagers spoke 
 of most of them as " wondrous rampageous ! " But 
 Mrs. Maybright always smiled when unfriendly 
 comments reached her ears. 
 
 " Wait and see," she would say ; " just quietly wait 
 and see they are all, every one of them, the sweet 
 est and most heal thy- minded children in the world. 
 Let them alone, and don't interfere with them. I 
 should not like perfection, it would have nothing to 
 grow to." 
 
 Mrs. Maybright taught the girls herself, and the 
 boys had a rather frightened-looking nursery-gover 
 ness, who often was seen to rush from the school 
 room dissolved in tears ; but was generally overtaken 
 half-way up the avenue by two small figures, nearly 
 throttled by two pairs of repentant little arms, while 
 eager lips vowed, declared, and vociferated, that they 
 would never, never be naughty again that they 
 would never tease their own sweet, sweetest of Miss 
 Wilsons any more. 
 
 Nor did they until the next time. 
 
 Polly was fourteen on that hot July afternoon
 
 14 POLLY. 
 
 when she lay on the grass and skilfully captured the 
 living thrushes, and held them to her smooth, glow 
 ing young cheeks. Her birthday had been over for 
 a whole fortnight ; it had been a day full of delight, 
 love, and happiness, and mother had said a word or 
 two to the exultant, radiant child at the close. Some 
 thing about her putting away some of the childish 
 things, and taking up the gentler and nobler ways of 
 first young girlhood now. She thought in an almost 
 undefined way of mother's words as she held the flut 
 tering thrushes to her lips, and kissed their downy 
 breasts. Then had come the unlooked-for inter 
 ruption. Polly's life seemed cloudless, and all of a 
 sudden there appeared a speck in the firmament a 
 little cloud which grew rapidly, until the whole 
 heavens were covered with it. Mother had gone 
 away forever, and there were now nine children in 
 the old gray house. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " BE BRAVE, DEAR." 
 
 " WASN'T father with her ? " Polly had said when 
 she could find her voice late that evening. " Wasn't 
 father there ? I thought father I always thought 
 father could keep death away." 
 
 She was lying on her pretty white bed when she 
 spoke. She had lain there now for a couple of days 
 not crying nor moaning, but very still, taking no 
 notice of any one. She looked dull and heavy her 
 sisters thought her very ill.- 
 
 Dr. May bright said to Helen 
 
 " You must be very careful of Polly, she has had 
 a shock, and she may take some time recovering. I 
 want you to nurse her yourself, Nell, and to keep the
 
 " BE BRAVE, t>EAR." 15 
 
 others from the room. For the present, at least, she 
 must be kept absolutely quiet the least excitement 
 would be very bad for her." 
 
 " Polly never cries," said Helen, whose own blue 
 eyes were swollen almost past recognition ; " she 
 never cries, she does not even moan. I think, father, 
 what really upset Polly so was when she heard that 
 you you were there. Polly thinks, she always did 
 think that you could keep death away." 
 
 Here poor Helen burst into fresh sobs herself. 
 
 " I think," she added, choking as she spoke, " that 
 was what quite broke Polly down losing mother, 
 and losing faith in your power at the same time." 
 
 " I am glad you told me this, Helen," said Dr 
 Maybright, quietly. "This alters the case. In a 
 measure I can now set Polly's heart at rest. I will 
 see her presently." 
 
 " Presently," did not mean that day, nor the next, 
 nor the next, but one beautiful summer's evening 
 just when the sun was setting, and just when its 
 long low western rays were streaming into the lat 
 tice-window of the pretty little bower bedroom 
 where Polly lay on her white bed, Dr. Maybright 
 opened the door and came in. He was a very tall 
 man, and he had to stoop as he passed under the low, 
 old-fashioned doorway, and as he walked across the 
 room to Polly's bedside the rays of the setting sun 
 fell on his face, and he looked more like a beautiful 
 healing presence than ever to the child. She was 
 lying on her back, with her eyes very wide open ; 
 her face, which had been bright and round and rosy, 
 had grown pale and small, and her tearless eyes had 
 a pathetic expression. She started up when she saw 
 her father come in, gave a glad little cry, and then, 
 remembering something, hid her face in her handa 
 with a moan.
 
 10 POLLY. 
 
 Dr. Maybright sat down in the chair which Helen 
 had occupied the greater part of the day He did 
 not take any notice of Polly's moan, but sat quite 
 still, looking out at the beautiful, glowing July sun 
 set. Wondering at his stillness, Polly presently 
 dropped her hands from her face, and looked 
 round at him. Her lips began to quiver, and her 
 eyes to fill. 
 
 " If I were you, Polly," said the doctor, hi his most 
 matter-of fact and professional manner, "I would get 
 up and come down to tea. You are not ill, you 
 know. Trouble, even great trouble, is not illness. 
 By staying here in your room you are adding a little 
 to the burden of all the others. That is not neces 
 sary, and it is the last thing your mother would 
 wish." 
 
 " Is it ? " said Polly. The tears were now brim 
 ming over in her eyes, but she crushed back her 
 emotion. " I didn't want to get up," she said, " or 
 to do anything right any more. She doesn't know 
 she doesn't hear she doesn't care." 
 
 " Hush, Polly she both knows and cares. She 
 would be much better pleased if you came down to 
 tea to-night. I want you, and so does Helen, and so 
 do the other girls and the little boys. See I will 
 stand by the window and wait, if you dress your 
 self very quickly." 
 
 " Give me my pocket-handkerchief," said Polly. 
 She dashed it to her eyes. No more tears flowed, 
 and by the time the doctor reached the window he 
 heard a bump on the floor ; there was a hasty 
 scrambling into clothes, and in an incredibly short 
 time an untidy, haggard-looking, but now wide 
 awake, Polly stood by the doctor's side. 
 
 u That is right," he said, giving her one of his 
 quick, rare smiles.
 
 " BE BRAVE, DEAR." 17 
 
 He took no notice of the tossed hair, nor the 
 stained, crumpled, cotton frock. 
 
 " Take my arm, Polly," he said, almost cheerfully. 
 And they went down together to the old parlor 
 where mother would never again preside over the 
 tea-tray. 
 
 It was more than a week since Mrs. Maybright 
 had died, and the others were accustomed to Helen's 
 taking her place, but the scene was new to the poor, 
 sore-hearted child who now came in. Dr. May- 
 bright felt her faltering steps, and knew what her 
 sudden pause on the threshold meant. 
 
 " Be brave, dear," he whispered. " You will make 
 it easier for me." 
 
 After that Polly would have fought with dragons 
 rather than shed a ghost of a tear. She slipped into 
 a seat by her father, and crumbled her bread-and- 
 butter, and gulped down some weak tea, taking care 
 to avoid any one's eyes, and feeling her own cheeks 
 growing redder and redder. 
 
 In mother's time Dr. Maybright had seldom 
 spoken. On many occasions he did not even put 
 in an appearance at the family tea, for mother her 
 self and the group of girls kept up such a chatter 
 t!iat, as he said, his voice would not be heard ; now, 
 on the contrary, he talked more than any one, tell 
 ing the children one or two most interesting stories 
 on natural history. Polly was devoted to natural 
 history, and in spite of herself she suspended her 
 tea-cup in the air while she listened. 
 
 " It is almost impossible, I know," concluded Dr. 
 Maybright as he rose from the table. " But it can 
 be done. Oh, yes, boys, I don't want either of you 
 to try it, but still it can be done. If the hand is 
 very steady, and poised in a particular way, then the
 
 18 POLLY. 
 
 bird can be caught, but you must know how to hold 
 him. Yes what is the matter, Polly ? " 
 
 " I did it ! " burst from Polly, " I caught two of 
 them, darlings I was kissing them when oh, 
 father ! " 
 
 Polly's face was crimson. All the others were 
 staring at her. 
 
 " I want you, my dear," said her father, suddenly 
 and tenderly. " Come with me." 
 
 Again he drew her hand protectingly through his 
 arm, and led her out of the room. 
 
 " You were a very good, brave child at tea-time," 
 he said. "But I particularly wish you to cry. 
 Tears are natural, and you will feel much better if 
 you have a good cry. Come up-stairs now to Nurse 
 and baby." 
 
 " Oh no, I can't I really can't see baby ! " 
 
 "Why not? She is a dear little child, and when 
 your mother went away she left her to you all, to 
 take care of, and cherish and love. I think she 
 thought specially of you, Polly, for you always have 
 been specially fond of little children. Come to the 
 nursery now with me. I want you to take care of 
 baby for an hour, while Nurse is at her supper." 
 
 Polly did not say another word. The doctor and 
 she went together into the old nursery, and a mo 
 ment or two afterwards she found herself sitting in 
 Nurse's little straw arm-chair, holding a tiny red 
 mite of a baby on her knee. Mother was gone, and 
 this this was left in her place ! Oh, what did God 
 mean? thought the woe-begone broken-hearted 
 child. 
 
 The doctor did not leave the room. He was look 
 ing through some books, a pile of old MS. books in 
 one corner by the window, and had apparently for 
 gotten all about Polly and the baby. She held the
 
 " BE BRAVE, DEAR." 19 
 
 wee bundle without clasping it to her, or bestowing 
 upon it any endearing or comforting little touch, 
 and as she looked the tears which had frozen round 
 her heart flowed faster and faster, dropping on the 
 baby's dress, and even splashing on her tiny face. 
 
 Baby did not like this treatment, and began to ex 
 postulate in a fretful, complaining way. Instantly 
 Polly's motherly instincts awoke ; she wiped her 
 own tears from the baby's face, and raising it in her 
 arms, pressed its little soft velvet cheek to her own. 
 As she did so, a thrill of warm comfort stole into 
 her heart. 
 
 " Polly," said her father, coming suddenly up to 
 her, " please take good care of baby till Nurse re 
 turns. I must go out now, I have some patients to 
 see, but I am going to prescribe a special little sup 
 per for you, which Helen is to see you eat before you 
 go to bed. Good-night, dear. Please ask Nurse, 
 too, if you can do anything in the morning to help 
 her with baby. Good-night, good-night, both of 
 you. Why the little creature is quite taking to you, 
 Polly ! " 
 
 Dr. Maybright was about to leave the room when 
 Polly called him back. 
 
 " Father, I must say one thing. I have been in t*. 
 dreadful, dreadful dream since mother died. The 
 most dreadful part of my dream, the blackest part, 
 was about you." 
 
 " Yes, Polly, yes, dear." 
 
 " You were there, father, and you let her die." 
 
 Dr. Maybright put his arm round the trembling 
 child, and drew her and the baby too close to 
 him. 
 
 " Not willingly," he said, in a voice which Polly 
 had never heard him use before. " Not willingly, 
 my child. Jt was with anguish I let your mother
 
 20 POLLY. 
 
 go away. But Polly, there was another physician 
 there greater than I." 
 
 " Another ? " said Polly. 
 
 " Yes, another and he prescribed Rest, for ever 
 more." 
 
 All her life afterwards Polly remembered these 
 words of her father's. They calmed her great sor 
 row, and in many ways left her a different child. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 / 
 
 QUITE A NEW SORT OP SCHEME. 
 
 ON a certain sunny morning in August, four or five 
 weeks after Mrs. Maybright's death, six girls stood 
 round Dr. Maybright in his study. They were all 
 dressed in deep mourning, but it was badly made 
 and unbecoming, and one and all looked untidy, and 
 a little run to seed. Their ages were as varied as 
 their faces. Helen, aged sixteen, had a slightly 
 plump figure, a calm, smooth, oval face, and pretty 
 gentle blue eyes. Her hair was fair and wavy ; she 
 was the tidiest of the group, and notwithstanding 
 the heavy make of her ugly frock, had a very sweet 
 and womanly expression. Polly, all angles and 
 awkwardness, came next in years ; she was tall and 
 very slim. Her face was small, her hair nearly 
 black and very untidy, and her big, dark, restless 
 eyes reflected each emotion of her mind. 
 
 Polly was lolling against the mantelpiece, and 
 restlessly changing her position from one leg to 
 another; Katie, aged eleven, was something in 
 Helen's style; then came the twins, Dolly and 
 Mabel, and then a rather pale child, with a some-
 
 QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME. 21 
 
 what queer expression, commonly known in the 
 family as " Firefly." Her real name was Lucy, but 
 no one ever dreamt of calling her by this gentle 
 title. " Firefly " was almost always in some sort of 
 disgrace, and scarcely knew what it was not to live 
 in a state of perpetual mental hot water. It was 
 privately whispered in the family circle that Polly 
 encouraged her in her naughtiness. Whether that 
 was the case or not, these two had a kind of quaint, 
 elfish friendship between them, Firefly in her heart 
 of hearts worshipping Polly, and obeying her 
 slightest nod or wish. 
 
 " I have sent for you, girls," said the Doctor, 
 looking round tenderly at his six motherless daugh 
 ters, " to say that I have talked over matters with 
 Helen, and for the present at least, I am willing to 
 give her plan a trial. I think she is right when she 
 tells me that if it turns out successful nothing would 
 please your mother more. It entirely depends on 
 yourselves whether it succeeds or fails. If you are 
 agreeable to try it, you can come to me to-morrow 
 at this hour and tell me so. Now good-by, my 
 dears. Helen will explain everything to you. 
 Helen, I shall not be in for early dinner. Good- 
 by, good-by to you all." 
 
 The Doctor nodded, looked half -abstractedly at 
 the upturned young faces, pushed his way through 
 the little group, and taking up a parcel of papers 
 and a surgical case which lay near, went straight to 
 his carriage, which was heard immediately after 
 wards to bowl quickly down the avenue. 
 
 The moment he was gone Helen was surrounded 
 by a clamorous group. 
 
 " What is it, Nell ? oh, do tell us tell us quickly," 
 said they, one and all. 
 
 " I thought Helen looked very important these
 
 22 POLLY. 
 
 last few days," said Dolly. " Do tell us what it is, 
 Nell, and what the plan is we are all to agree 
 to." 
 
 " It sounds rather nice to be asked to agree to 
 things," said Firefly. " What's the matter, Poll ? 
 You look grumpy." 
 
 " I think Helen may be allowed to speak," said 
 Polly. " Go on, Nell, out with the budget of news. 
 And you, young ones, you had better not interrupt 
 her, for if you do, I'll pay you out by-and-by. 
 Now, Nell. Speak, Nell." 
 
 It's this," said Helen. 
 
 She seated herself on the window-ledge, and Polly 
 stood, tall and defiant, at her back. Firefly dropped 
 on hr knees in front, and the others lolled about 
 anyhow. 
 
 "It's this," she said. "Father would like to 
 carry on our education as much in mother's way as 
 possible. And he says that he is willing, for a time 
 at least, to do without having a resident elderly 
 governess to live with us." 
 
 " Oh, good gracious ! " exclaimed Polly, " was there 
 ever such an idea thought of ? " 
 
 " She'd have spectacles," said Dolly. 
 
 "And a hooked nose," remarked Katie. 
 
 f 'An:l she'd be sure to squint, and have false 
 teeth, and I'd hate her," snapped Firefly, putting on 
 her most vindictive face. 
 
 " Well, it's what's generally done," said Helen, in 
 her grave, sad, steady, young voice. " You remember 
 the Brewsters when they they had their great 
 sorrow how an elderly governess came, and Aunt 
 Maria Cameron has written to father about two 
 already. She speaks of them as treasures ; father 
 showed me the letters. He says he supposes it is 
 quite the usual thing, and he asked me what I'd
 
 QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME. 23 
 
 like. Poor father, you see he must be out all day 
 with the sick folks." 
 
 " Of course," murmured Polly. " Well, what did 
 you answer him about the old horrors, Nell ? " 
 
 " One seemed rather nice," said Helen. " She was 
 about forty-five, and had thin grayish hair. Aunt 
 Maria sent her photograph, and said that she was a 
 treasure, and that father ought not to lose an hour 
 in securing her. Her name was Miss Jenkins." 
 
 " Jenkins or Jones, I'd have given her sore bones," 
 spitefully improvised Firefly. 
 
 " Well, she's not to come," continued Helen, " at 
 least, not at present. For I have persuaded father 
 to let us try the other plan. He says all our relations 
 will be angry with him ; of course, he is not likely 
 to care for that. This is what we are to try, girls, 
 if you are agreeable. Father is going to get the 
 very best daily governess from Nettleship to come 
 here every morning. She will stay until after early 
 dinner, and then George will drive her back to town 
 in the pony trap. And then Mr. Masters is to come 
 twice a week, as usual, about our music, and Mr. 
 Danvers for drawing. And Miss Wilson is to stay 
 here most of the day to look after Bunny and Bob. 
 That is a much better arrangement than having a 
 resident governess, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yes," said three or four voices, but Polly was 
 silent, and Firefly, eagerly watching her face, closed 
 her own resolute little lips. 
 
 " That is part of father's plan," continued Helen. 
 " But the other, and more important part is this. I 
 am to undertake the housekeeping. Father says he 
 would like Polly to help me a little, but the burden 
 and responsibility of the whole thing rests on me. 
 And also, girls, father says that there must be some 
 one in absolute authority. There must be some one
 
 24 POLLY. 
 
 who can settle disputes, and keep things in order, and 
 so he says that unless you are all willing to do what 
 I ask you to do, the scheme must s.till fall through, 
 and we must be like the Brewsters or any other 
 unhappy girls whose mothers are no longer with 
 them, and have a resident governess. 
 
 " I know you won't like to obey me," continued 
 Helen, looking anxiously round, " but I don't think 
 I'll be hard on you. No, I am sure I shall not be 
 hard on any of you." 
 
 "That remains to be proved," said Polly. "I 
 don't think I like that plan. I won't give any answer 
 at present I'll think about it. Come along, Fly," 
 she nodded to her younger sister, and then, lifting the 
 heavy bottom sash of the window where Helen had 
 been sitting, stepped lightly out, followed by the 
 obedient Firefly. 
 
 " I don't want to obey Nell," said the little sister, 
 clasping two of Polly's fingers with her thin, small 
 hand. " If it was you, Poll Parrot, it would be a 
 different thing, but I don't want to obey Nell. I 
 don't think it's fair ; she's only my sister, like the 
 rest of them. There's nothing said in the Cate 
 chism about obeying sisters. It's only fathers and 
 mothers, and spiritual pastors and masters." 
 
 " And all those put in authority over you," pro 
 ceeded Polly, shaking her fingers free, and facing 
 round on Firefly, in a way which caused that young 
 person to back several inches. " If Helen once gets 
 the authority the Catechism is on her side, not on 
 yours." 
 
 " But I needn't promise, need I ? " pouted Firefly. 
 " If it was you, it would be different. I always did 
 what you wanted me to do, Polly Perkins." 
 
 " Of course you did," responded Polly, in a most 
 contemptuous voice. " Will a duck swim ? I led
 
 QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME. 25 
 
 you into mischief of course you followed. Well, 
 Fly, it rests with yourself. Don't obey our dear, 
 good, gentle Nelly, and you'll have Miss Jenkins 
 here. Won't it be fun to see her squinting at you 
 over her spectacles when she returns your spelling- 
 lessons. Bread and water will be your principal diet 
 most of the week. Well, good-by now ; I'm off to 
 baby." 
 
 Polly took to her heels, and Firefly stood for a 
 moment or two looking utterly miserable and irreso 
 lute on the wide gravel walk in the centre of the 
 flower-garden. She felt very much inclined to 
 stamp her feet and to screw up her thin little face 
 into contortions of rage. Even very little girls, 
 however, won't go into paroxysms of anger when 
 there is no one there to see. Firefly's heart was 
 very sore, for Polly, her idol, had spoken to her 
 almost roughly. 
 
 " I wish mother wasn't in heaven," she murmured 
 in a grieved little voice, and then she turned and 
 walked back to the house. The nearer she ap 
 proached the study window the faster grew her foot 
 steps. At last, like a little torrent, she vaulted back 
 into the room, and flung her arms noisily round 
 Helen's neck. 
 
 " I'll obey you, darling Nell," she said. " I'd 
 much rather have you than Miss Jenkins." 
 
 And then she sobbed aloud, and really shook her 
 self, for she felt still so angry with Polly. 
 
 " That's a good little Fly," said Helen, kissing her 
 affectionately in return, and putting her arm round 
 her waist, so as to establish her comfortably on her 
 knee. The other girls were all lying about in dif 
 ferent easy attitudes, and Firefly joined in the gen 
 eral talk, and found herself much comforted.
 
 26 POLLY. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A SAFETY-VALVE. 
 
 " FLY caved in, didn't she ? " said Polly to her 
 eldest sister that night. 
 
 " Yes, poor little mite, she did, in a touching 
 way," said Helen ; " but she seemed in trouble about 
 something. You know how reserved she is about 
 her feelings, but when she sat on my knee she quite 
 sobbed." 
 
 " I was rather brutal to her," said Polly, in a non 
 chalant tone, flinging up the sash of the bedroom 
 window as she spoke, and indulging in a careless 
 whistle. 
 
 It was bed-time, but the girls were tempted by 
 the moonlight night to sit up and look out at the 
 still, sweet beauty, and chatter together. 
 
 " How could you be unkind to her ? " said Helen, 
 in a voice of dismay. " Polly, dear, do shut that 
 window again, or you will have a sore throat. 
 How could you be unkind to poor little Fly, Poll, 
 when she is so devoted to you ? J> 
 
 " The very reason," said Polly. " She'd never 
 have gone over to you if I hadn't. I saw rebellion 
 in that young 'un's eye that was why I caLba her 
 out. I was determined to nip it in the bud 
 
 "But you rebelled yourself?" 
 
 " Yes, and I mean to go on rebelling. I am not 
 Fly." 
 
 " Well, Polly," said Helen, suppressing a heavy 
 sigh on her own account. " You know I don't want
 
 A SAFETY-VALVE. 2? 
 
 you a bit to obey me. I am not a mistressing sort of 
 girl, and I like to consult you about things, and I 
 want us both to feel more or less as equals. Still 
 father says there are quite two years between us, 
 and that the scheme cannot be worked at all unless 
 some one is distinctly at the head. He particularly 
 spoke of you, Polly, and said that if you would not 
 agree we must go back to the idea of Miss Jenkins, 
 or that he will let this house for a time, and send 
 us all to school." 
 
 " A worse horror than the other," said Polly. " I 
 wouldn't be a school-girl for all you could give me ! 
 Why, the robin's nest might be discovered by some 
 one else, and my grubs and chrysalides would come 
 to perfection without me. No, no ; rather than 
 that can't we effect a compromise, Nell ? " 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Helen. " You know I am 
 willing to agree to anything. It is father." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; poor Nell, you're the meekest and 
 mildest of mortals. Now, look here, wouldn't this 
 be fun?" 
 
 Polly's black eyes began to dance. 
 
 " You know how fond I always was of housekeep 
 ing. Let me housekeep every second week. Give 
 me the money and let me buy every single thing and 
 pay for it, and don't interfere with me whatever I do. 
 I'll promise to be as good as gold always, and obey 
 you in every single thing, if only I have this safety- 
 valve. Let me expend myself upon the housekeep 
 ing, and I'll be as good, better than gold. I'll help 
 you, and be your right hand, Nell ; and I'll obey 
 you in the most public way before all the other girls, 
 and as to Fly, see if I don't keep her in hand. What 
 do you think of this plan, Nell ? I, with my safety- 
 valve, the comfort of your life, a sort of general to 
 keep your forces in order."
 
 28 POLLY. 
 
 " But you really can't housekeep, Polly. Of course 
 I'd like to please you, and father said himself you 
 were to help me in the house. But to manage every 
 thing why, it frightens me, and I am two years 
 older." 
 
 " But you have so very little spirit, darling. Now 
 it doesn't frighten me a bit, and that's why I'm so 
 certain I shall succeed splendidly. Look here, Nell, 
 let me speak to father, myself ; if he says ' yes,' you 
 won't object, will you ? " 
 
 " Of course not," said Helen. 
 
 " You are a darling I'll soon bring father round. 
 Now, shall we go bed ? I am so sleepy." 
 
 The next morning at breakfast Polly electrified 
 her brothers and sisters by the very meek way in 
 which she appealed to Helen on all occasions. 
 
 " Do you think, Nell, that I ought to have any 
 more of this marmalade on fresh bread ? I ate half 
 a pot yesterday on three or four slices of hot bread 
 from the oven, and felt quite a dizzy stupid feeling 
 in my head afterwards." 
 
 " Of course, how could you expect it to agree with 
 you, Polly ? " said Helen, looking up innocently from 
 her place at the tea-tray. 
 
 " Had I better have a little of this stale bread-and- 
 butter then, dear ? " proceeded Polly in a would-be 
 anxious tone. 
 
 " Yes, if you will, dear. But you never like stale 
 bread-and -butter. ' ' 
 
 " I'll eat it if you wish me to, Helen," answered 
 Polly, in a very meek, good little voice. 
 
 The two boys began to chuckle, and even Dr. 
 Maybright looked at his second daughter in a puz 
 zled, abstracted way. Helen, too, colored slightly, 
 and wondered what Polly meant. But the young 
 lady herself munched her stale bread with the most
 
 A SAFETY-VALVE. 29 
 
 immovable of faces, and even held up the slice for 
 Helen to scrutinize, with the gentle, good little re 
 mark " Have I put too much butter on it, Nell ? 
 It isn't right to waste nice good butter, is it ? " 
 
 " Oh, Polly, how dreadful you are ! " said Fly. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said Polly, fiercely. 
 
 She dropped her meek manners, gave one quick 
 glare at the small speaker, and then half turning her 
 back on her, said in the gentlest of voices, " What 
 would you like me to do this morning, Helen ? Shall 
 I look over my history lesson for an hour, and then 
 practise scales on the piano ? " 
 
 " You may do just as you please, as far as I am 
 concerned," replied Helen, who felt that this sort of 
 obedience was far worse for the others than open 
 rebellion. " I thought you wanted to see father, 
 Polly. He has just gone into his study, and perhaps 
 he will give you ten minutes, if you go to him at 
 once." 
 
 This speech of Helen's caused Polly to forget her 
 role of the meek, obedient martyr. Her brow 
 cleared. 
 
 " Thank you for reminding me, Nell," she said, in 
 her natural voice, and a moment later she was 
 knocking at the Doctor's study door. 
 
 " Come in," he said. And when the untidy head 
 and somewhat neglected person of his second 
 daughter appeared, Dr. Maybright walked towards 
 her. 
 
 " I am going out, Polly, do you want me ? " he 
 said. 
 
 " Yes, it won't take a minute," said Polly, eagerly. 
 " May I housekeep every second week instead of Nell ? 
 Will you give me the money instead of her, and let 
 me pay for everything, and buy the food? I am aw 
 fully interested in eggs and butter, and I'll give you
 
 30 POLLY. 
 
 splendid puddings and cakes. Please say yes, father 
 Nell is quite willing, if you are." 
 
 " How old are you, Polly ? " said Dr. Maybright. 
 
 He put his hand under Polly's chin and raised her 
 childish face to scrutinize it closely. 
 
 " What matter about my age," she replied ; " I'm 
 fourteen in body I'm twenty in mind and as to 
 housekeeping, I'm thirty, if not forty." 
 
 " That head looks very like thirty, if not forty," 
 responded the Doctor, significantly. "And that 
 dress," glancing at where the hem was torn, and 
 where the body gaped open for want of sufficient 
 hooks, " looks just the costume I should recommend 
 for the matron of a large establishment. Do you 
 know what it means to housekeep for this family, 
 Polly ? " 
 
 "Buy the bread and butter, and the meat, and 
 the poultry, and the tea, and the sugar, and the 
 citron, and raisins, and allspice, and nutmegs, and 
 currants, and flour, and brick-bat, and hearthstone, 
 and and " 
 
 Dr. Maybright put his fingers to his ears. " Spare 
 me any more," said he, " I never ask for items. There 
 are in this house, Polly, nine children, myself, and 
 four servants. That makes in all fourteen people. 
 These people have to be fed and clothed, and some of 
 them have to be paid wages too ; they have to be 
 warmed, they have to be kept clean, in short, all their 
 comforts of body have to be attended to ; one of them 
 requires one thing, one quite another. For instance, 
 the dinner which would be admirably suited to you 
 would kill baby, and might not be best for Firefly, 
 who is not strong, and has to be dieted in a particular 
 way. I make it a rule that servants' wages and all 
 articles consumed in the house are paid for weekly. 
 Whoever housekeeps for me has to undertake all this,
 
 POLLY'S RAID. 31 
 
 and has to make a certain sum of money cover a cer 
 tain expenditure. Now do you think, Polly do you 
 honestly think that you, an ignorant little girl of 
 fourteen, a very untidy and childish little girl, can 
 undertake this onerous post ? I ask you to answer 
 me quite honestly if you undertake it, are you in 
 the least likely to succeed ? " 
 
 " Oh, father, I know you mean to crush me when 
 you speak like that ; but you know you told Helen 
 that you would like her to try to manage the house 
 keeping." 
 
 I did and, as I know you are fond of domestic 
 things, I meant you to help her a little. Helen is 
 two years older than you, and not the least like 
 you, Polly." 
 
 Polly tossed her head. 
 
 " I know that," she said. " Helen takes twice as 
 long learning her lessons. Try my French beside 
 hers, father ; or my German, or my music." 
 
 " Or your forbearance or your neatness," added 
 the Doctor. 
 
 Here he sighed deeply. 
 
 " I miss your mother, Polly," he said. " And poor, 
 poor child ! so do you. There, I can't waste another 
 minute of my time with you now. Come to my study 
 this evening at nine, and we will discuss the matter 
 further." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 POLLY'S BAID. 
 
 POLLY spent some hours of that day in a some 
 what mysterious occupation. Instead of helping, as 
 she had done lately, in quite an efficient way, with 
 the baby, for she was a very bright child, and could
 
 32 POLLY. 
 
 be most charming and attractive to the smallest 
 living creature when she chose, she left nurse and 
 the little brown-eyed baby to their own devices, and 
 took up a foraging expedition through the house. 
 She called it her raid, and Polly's raid proved ex 
 tremely disturbing to the domestic economy of the 
 household. For instance, when Susan, the very 
 neat housemaid, had put all the bedrooms in per 
 fect order, and was going to her own room to change 
 her dress and make herself tidy, it was very annoying 
 to hear Polly, in a peremptory tone, desiring her to 
 give her the keys of the linen-press. 
 
 " For," said that young lady, " I'm going to look 
 through the towels this morning, Susan, to see which 
 of them want darning, and you had better stay with 
 me, to take away those that have thin places hi 
 them." 
 
 "Oh dear me, Miss Polly," said Susan, rather 
 pertly, " the towels is seen to in the proper rotation. 
 You needn't be a fretting your head about 'em, miss. 
 This ain't the morning for the linen-press, miss. 
 It's done at its proper time and hour." 
 
 " Give me the key at once, Susan, and don't an 
 swer," said Polly. " There, hold your apron I'll 
 throw the towels in. What a lot I don't believe 
 we want half as many. When I take the reins of 
 office next week, I'll put away quite half of these 
 towels. There can't be waste going on in the house 
 I won't have it, not when I housekeep, at any rate. 
 Susan, wasn't that a little round speck of a hole in 
 that towel ? Ah, I thought so. You put it aside, 
 Susan, you'll have to darn it this afternoon. Now 
 then, let me see, let me see." 
 
 Polly worked vigorously through the towels, 
 holding them up to the light to discover their thin 
 places, pinching them in parts, and feeling their
 
 POLLY'S RAID. S3 
 
 texture between her finger and thumb. In the end 
 she pronounced about a dozen unworthy of domestic 
 service, and Susan was desired to spend her after 
 noon in repairing them. 
 
 " I can't, then, Miss Polly," said the much injured 
 housemaid. It ain't neither the day nor the hour, 
 and I haven't got one scrap of proper darning 
 thread left." 
 
 " I'll go to the village, then, and get some," said 
 Polly. " It's only a mile away. Things can't be 
 neglected it isn't right. Take the towels, Susan, 
 and let me find them mended to-morrow morning ; " 
 and the young lady tripped off with a very bright 
 color in her cheeks, and the key of the linen-press 
 In her pocket. 
 
 Her next visit was to the kitchen regions. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Power," she said to the ^cook, " I've 
 come to see the stores. It isn't right that they 
 shouldn't be looked into, is it, in case of anything 
 falling short. Fancy if you were run out of pearl 
 barley, Mrs. Power, or allspice, or nutmegs, or mace. 
 Oh, dear, it makes me quite shiver to tnink of it ! 
 What a mess you would be in, if you hadn't all your 
 ingredients handy, in case you were making a plum- 
 cake, or some of those dear little tea-cakes, or a 
 custard, or something of that sort. Now, if yoit'll 
 just give me the keys, we'll pay a visit to the store 
 room, and see what is likely to be required. I have 
 my tablet here, and I can write the order as I look 
 through." 
 
 Mrs. Power was a red-faced and not a very good- 
 humored woman. She was, however, an excellent 
 cook and a careful, prudent servant. Mrs. May- 
 bright had found her, notwithstanding her very 
 irascible temper, a great comfort, for she was 
 thoroughly honest and conscientious, but even from
 
 34 POLLY. 
 
 her late mistress Mrs. Power would never brook 
 much interference ; it is therefore little to be won 
 dered at that Polly's voluminous speech was not very 
 well received. 
 
 Mrs. Power's broad back was to the young lad}, 
 as she danced gleefully into the kitchen, and it re 
 mained towards her, with one ear just slightly 
 turned in her direction, all the time she was speak 
 ing. 
 
 Mrs. Power was busy at the moment removing 
 the fat from a large vessel full of cold soup. She 
 had some pepper and salt, and nutmegs and other 
 flavoring ingredients on the table beside her, and 
 when Polly's speech came to a conclusion she took 
 up the pepper canister and certainly flavored the 
 soup with a very severe dose. 
 
 " If I was you, I'd get out of the hot kitchen, 
 child I'm busy, and not attending to a word you're 
 talking about." 
 
 No answer could have been more exasperating to 
 Polly. She too had her temper, and had no idea of 
 being put down by twenty Mrs. Powers. 
 
 " Take care, you're spoiling the soup," she said. 
 " That's twice too much pepper and oh, what a lot 
 of salt ! Don't you know, Mrs. Power, that it's very 
 wicked to waste good food in that way it is, really, 
 perhaps you did not think of it in that light, but it 
 is, I'm afraid you can't ever have attended any 
 cookery classes, Mrs. Power, or you'd know better 
 than to put all that pepper into that much soup. 
 Why it ought to be it ought to be let me see, I 
 think it's the tenth of an ounce to half a gallon of 
 soup. I'm not quite sure, but I'll look up the cook 
 ery lectures and let you know. Now, where's the 
 key of the store-room we'd better set to work, for 
 the morning is going on, and I have a great deal on
 
 POLLY'S RAID. 35 
 
 my hands. Where's the key of the store-room, 
 Mrs. Power?" 
 
 " There's only one key that I know much about 
 dt the present moment," replied the exasperated 
 cook, " and that's the key of the kitchen-door ; come, 
 child I'm going to put you on the other side of 
 it ; " and so saying, before Polly was in the least 
 aware of her intention, she was caught up in Mrs. 
 Power's stalwart arms and placed on the flags outside 
 the kitchen, while the door was boldly locked in 
 her face. 
 
 This was really a check, almost a checkmate, and 
 for a time Polly quite shook with fury, but after a 
 little she sufficiently recovered herself to reflect that 
 the reins of authority had not yet been absolutely 
 placed in her hands, and it might be wisest for her 
 to keep this defeat to herself. 
 
 " Poor old Power ! you won't be here long when 
 I'm housekeeper," reflected Polly. " It would not 
 be right you're not at all a good servant. Why, I 
 know twice as much already as you do." 
 
 She went slowly up-stairs, and going to the 
 schoolroom, where the girls were all busying them 
 selves in different fashions, sat down by her own 
 special desk, and made herself very busy dividing a 
 long old-fashioned rosewood box into several com 
 partments by means of stout cardboard divisions. 
 She was really a clever little maid in her own way, 
 and the box when finished looked quite neat. Each 
 division was labelled, and Polly's cheeks glowed as 
 she surveyed her handiwork. 
 
 " What a very queer box," said Dolly, coming for 
 ward. " What are you so long about, Poll Parrot ? 
 And oh, what red cheeks ! " 
 
 " Never you mind," said Polly, shutting up her 
 box. " It's finished now, and quite ready for father
 
 36 POLLY. 
 
 to see to-night. I'm going to become a very import 
 ant personage, Miss Doll so you'd better begin to 
 treat me with respect. Oh dear, where's the cookery 
 book ? Helen, do you know where the ' Lectures on 
 Elementary Cookery ' is ? Just fancy, Nell, cook 
 doesn't know how much pepper should go to a gallon 
 of soup! Did you ever hear of such shameful 
 ignorance ? " 
 
 " Why, you surely have not been speaking to her 
 on the subject ? " said Helen, who was busily engaged 
 darning Bunny's socks; she raised her head and 
 looked at Polly in some surprise as she spoke. 
 
 " Oh, have I not, though ? " Polly's charming, 
 merry face twinkled all over. 
 
 "I saw Susan crying just now," interposed Mabel. 
 " She said Polly had been why, what is the matter, 
 Poll?" 
 
 " Nothing," said Poll, " only if I were you, Mabel, 
 I wouldn't tell tales out of school. I'm going to be 
 a person of importance, so if you're wise, all of you, 
 you'll keep at my blind side. Oh dear ! where is that 
 cookery book ? Girls, you may each tell me what 
 puddings you like best, and what cake, and what 
 dish for breakfast, and " 
 
 But here the dinner gong put an end to a subject 
 of much interest. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE GROWN-UPS. 
 
 IN the evening Polly had her interview with her 
 father. Dr. May bright had gone through a long and 
 fatiguing day ; some anxious cases caused him dis 
 quiet, and his recent sorrow lay heavily against his
 
 THE GROWN-UPS. 37 
 
 heart. How was the father of seven daughters, and 
 two very scampish little sons, to bring them up alone 
 and unaided ? How was a man's own heart to do 
 without the sympathy to which it had turned, the 
 love Avhich had strengthened, warmed, and sustained 
 it ? Dr. May bright was standing by the window, 
 looking out at the familiar garden, which showed 
 shadowy and indistinct in the growing dusk, when 
 Polly crept softly into the room, and, going up to 
 his side, laid her pretty dimpled hand on his arm. 
 
 "Now, father," she said, eagerly, "about the 
 housekeeping? I'm all prepared shall we go into 
 the subject now ? " 
 
 Dr. Maybright sighed, and with an effort roused 
 himself out of a reverie which was becoming very 
 painful. 
 
 " My little girl," he said, pushing back the tumbled 
 hair from Polly's sunshiny face. Then he added, 
 with a sudden change of manner. " Oh, what a goose 
 you are, Polly you know as much about housekeep 
 ing as I do, and that is nothing at all." 
 
 " I wouldn't make bold assertions," replied Polly, 
 saucily " I wouldn't really, father dear ; I couldn't 
 cure a sick person, of course not, but I could make 
 a very nice cake for one." 
 
 " Well, let's go into the matter," said the Doctor, 
 moving to his study table. " I have a quarter of an 
 hour to give you, my dear, then I want to go into 
 the village to see Mrs. Judson before she settles for 
 the night ; she has a nasty kind of low fever about 
 her, and her husband is anxious, so I promised to 
 look in. By the way, Polly, don't any of you go 
 nearer the Judsons' house until I give you leave ; 
 walk at the other side of the village, if you must go 
 there at all. Now, my dear, about this housekeeping. 
 Are you seriously resolved to force your attentions
 
 38 fOLLV, 
 
 upon us for a week ? We shall certainly all be most 
 uncomfortable, and severe attacks of indigestion will 
 probably be the result. Is your heart set on this, 
 Polly, child ? For, if so well, your mother never 
 thwarted you, did she ? " 
 
 " No, father, never but don't talk of mother, for 
 I don't think I can bear it. When I was with mother 
 somehow or other, I don't know why, I never wished 
 for anything she did not like." 
 
 " Just so, my dear child. Turn up the lamp, if 
 you please, Polly sit there, will you I want to see 
 your face. Now I will reply to the first part of your 
 last remark. You asked me not to speak of your 
 mother, my dear ; I certainly will mention her name 
 to her children. She has gone away, but she is still 
 one with us. Why should our dearest household word 
 be buried. Why should not her influence reach 
 you and Helen and Dolly from where she now is? 
 She is above she has gone into the higher life, but 
 she can lead you up. You understand me, Polly. 
 Thoughts of your mother must be your best, your 
 noblest thoughts from this out." 
 
 " Yes, father, yes," said Polly. Her lips were 
 trembling, her eyes were brimful, she clasped and un 
 clasped her hands with painful tension. 
 
 Dr. Maybright bent forward and kissed her on 
 her forehead. 
 
 " Your mother once said to me," he continued, in a 
 lighter tone, " Polly is the most peculiar and difficult 
 to manage of all my children. She has a vein of ob 
 stinacy in her which no persuasion will overcome. It 
 can only be reached by the lessons which experience 
 teaches. If possible, and where it is not absolutely 
 wrong, I always give Polly her own way. She is a 
 truthful child, and when her eyes are opened she 
 seldom asks to repeat the experiment."
 
 THE GROWN-UPS. 39 
 
 Mother was thinking of the hive of honey," said 
 Polly, gravely. " When I worried her dreadfully she 
 let me go and take some honey away. I thought I 
 could manage the bees just as cleverly as Hungerford 
 does, but I got nervous just at the end, and I was 
 stung in four places. I never told any one about 
 the stings, only mother found out." 
 
 " You did not fetch any more honey from that 
 hive, eh, Polly ? " asked the Doctor. 
 
 " No, father. And then there was another time 
 and oh, yes, many other times. But I did not know 
 mother was just trying to teach me, when she 
 seemed so kind and sympathizing, and used to say 
 in that voice of hers you remember mother's 
 cheerful voice, father ? ' Well, Polly, it is a diffi 
 cult thing, but do your best.' " 
 
 " All right, child," said the Doctor, " I perceive 
 that your mother's plan was a wise one. Tell me 
 quickly what ideas you have with regard to keeping 
 this establishment together, for it is almost time for 
 me to run away to Mrs. Judson. I allow eight 
 pounds a week for all household expenses, servants' 
 wages, coal, light, food, medicine. I shall not allow 
 you to begin with so much responsibility, but for a 
 week you may provide our table." 
 
 " And see after the servants, please, father? " in 
 terrupted Polly, in an eager voice. 
 
 " Well, I suppose so, just for one week, that is, 
 after Helen has had her turn. Your mother always 
 managed, with the help of the vegetables and fruit 
 from the garden, to bring the mere table expenses 
 into four pounds a week ; but she was a most ex 
 cellent manager." 
 
 " Oh, father, I can easily do it too. Why it's a 
 lot of money ! four pounds eighty shillings ! I 
 shouldn't be a bit surprised if I did, it for less.
 
 40 POLLY. 
 
 " Remember, Polly, I allow no stinting ; we must 
 have a plentiful table. No stinting, and no running 
 in debt. Those are the absolute conditions, other 
 wise I do not trust you with a penny." 
 
 " I'll keep them father never fear ! Oh, how 
 delighted I am ! I know you'll be pleased ; I know 
 what you'll say by-and-by. I'm certain I won't 
 fail, certain. I always loved cooking and house 
 keeping. Fancy making pie- crust myself, and 
 cakes, and custards ! Mrs. Powers is rather cross, 
 but she'll have to let me make what things I choose 
 when I'm housekeeper, won't she, father?" 
 
 " Manage it your own way, dear. I neither inter 
 fere nor wish to interfere. Oh, what a mess we 
 shall be in ! But thank heaven it is only for a week. 
 My dear child, I allow you to have your way, but I 
 own it is with trepidation. Now I must really go 
 to Mrs. Judson." 
 
 "But one moment, please, father. I have not 
 shown you my plan. You think badly of me now, 
 but you won't, indeed you won't presently. I am all 
 system, I assure you. I see my way so clearly. I'll 
 retrench without being mean, and I'll economize 
 without being stingy. Don't I use fine words, 
 father? That's because I understand the subject 
 so thoroughly." 
 
 " Quite so, Polly. Now I must be going. Good 
 night, my dear." 
 
 " But my plan you must stay to hear it. Do 
 you see this box ? It has little divisions. I popped 
 them all in before dinner to-day. There is a lock 
 and key to the box, and the lock is a strong one." 
 
 "Well, Polly?" 
 
 The Doctor began to get into his overcoat. 
 
 "Look, father, dear, please look. Each little 
 division is marked with a name. This one is Gro-
 
 THE GROWN-UPS. 41 
 
 ceries, this one is Butcher, this is Milk, butter, and 
 eggs, this is Baker, this is Cheesemonger, and this 
 is Sundries oh yes, and laundress, I must screw 
 in a division for laundress somehow. Now, father, 
 this is my delightful plan. When you give me my 
 four pounds my eighty shillings I'll get it all 
 changed into silver, and I'll divide it into equal por 
 tions, and drop so much into the grocery depart 
 ment, so much into the butcher's, so much into the 
 baker's. Don't you see how simple it will be ? " 
 
 " Very, my dear the game of chess is nothing to 
 it. Good-night, Polly. I sincerely hope no serious 
 results will accrue from these efforts on my part to 
 teach you experience." 
 
 The Doctor walked quickly down the avenue. 
 
 " I'm quite resolved," he said to himself, " to bring 
 them all up as much as possible on their mother's 
 plan, but if Polly requires many such lessons as I am 
 forced to give her to-night, there is nothing for it 
 but to send her to school. For really such an ex 
 perience as we are about to go through at her hands 
 is enough to endanger health, to say nothing of 
 peace and domestic quiet. The fact is, I really am 
 a much worried man. It is no joke bringing up 
 seven motherless girls, each of them with characters ; 
 the boys are a simple matter they have school 
 before them, and a career of some sort, but the girls 
 it really is an awful responsibility. Even the 
 baby has a strong individuality of her own I see 
 it already in her brown eyes bless her, she has got 
 her mother's eyes. But my queer, wild, clever 
 Polly what a week we shall have with you pre 
 sently ! Now, who is that crying and sobbing in 
 the dark ? " 
 
 The Doctor swooped suddenly down on a shadowy 
 object, which lay prone under an arbutus shrub-
 
 42 POLLY. 
 
 " My dear little Firefly, what is the matter ? You 
 ought to be in bed ages ago out here in the damp 
 and cold, and such deep-drawn sobs! What has 
 nurse been about ? This is really extremely care 
 less." 
 
 " It wasn't nurse's fault," sobbed Firefly, nestling 
 her head into her father's cheek. " I ran away from 
 her. I hided from her on purpose." 
 
 " Then you were the naughty one. What is the 
 matter, dear ? Why do you make things worse for 
 me and for us all just now ? " 
 
 Firefly's head sank still lower. Her hot little 
 cheek pressed her father's with an acute longing for 
 sympathy. Instinct told him of the child's need. 
 He walked down the avenue, holding her closely. 
 
 " Wasn't you going the other way, father ? " asked 
 Firefly, squeezing her arms tight around his neck. 
 
 " No matter, I must see you home first. Now 
 what were those sobs about? And why did you 
 hide yourself from nurse ? " 
 
 " 'Cause I wanted to be down-stairs, to listen to 
 the grown-ups." 
 
 " The grown-ups ? My dear, who are they ? " 
 
 Oh, Nell, and Poll Parrot, and Katie ; I don't 
 mind about Nell and Polly, but it isn't fair that 
 Katie should be made a grown-up and she is she 
 is, really, father. She is down in the school-room 
 so important, and just like a regular grown-up, so I 
 couldn't stand it." 
 
 " I see. You wanted to be a grown-up too you 
 are seven years old, are you not ? " 
 
 " I'm more. I'm seven and a half Katie is only 
 eleven." 
 
 " Quite so ; Katie is young compared to you, isn't 
 she, Firefly. Still I don't see my way. You wished 
 to join the grown-ups, but I found you sobbing on
 
 43 
 
 the damp grass under one of the shrubs near the 
 avenue. Is it really under a damp arbutus shrub 
 that the grown-ups intend to take counsel ? " 
 
 " Oh no, father, no " here the sobs began again. 
 " They were horrid, oh they were horrid. They 
 locked me out I banged against the door, but they 
 wouldn't open. It was then I came up here. I 
 wouldn't have minded if it hadn't been for Katie." 
 
 " I see, my child. Well, run to bed now, and 
 leave the matter in father's hands. Ask nurse to 
 give you a hot drink, and not to scold, for father 
 knows about it." 
 
 " Darling father oh, how good you are ! Don't 
 I love you ! Just another kiss what a good father 
 you are ! " 
 
 Firefly hugged the tall doctor ecstatically. He 
 saw her disappear into the house, and once more 
 pursued his way down the avenue. 
 
 " Good ! " he echoed to himself. " Never did a 
 more harassed man walk. How am I to manage 
 those girls ? " 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SHOULD THE STBANGERS COME"? 
 
 HELEN and Polly were seated together in the 
 pleasant morning-room. Helen occupied her mother's 
 chair, her feet were on a high footstool, and by her 
 side, on a small round table, stood a large basket 
 filled with a heterogeneous collection of odd socks 
 and stockings, odd gloves, pieces of lace and em 
 broidery, some wool, a number of knitting needles, 
 in short, a confused medley of useful but run-to-
 
 44 POLLY. 
 
 seed -looking articles which the young housekeeper 
 was endeavoring to reduce out of chaos into order. 
 
 " Oh, Polly, how you have tangled up all this 
 wool ; and where's the fellow of this gray glove ? 
 And Polly, Polly here's the handkerchief you 
 had such a search for last week. Now, how often 
 do you intend me to put this basket in order for 
 you?" 
 
 " Once a week, dear, if not of tener," answered 
 Polly, hi suave tones. " Please don't speak for a 
 moment or two, Nell. I'm so much interested in 
 this new recipe for pie-crust. You melt equal 
 portions of lard and butter in so much boiling water 
 that's according to the size of the pie ; then you 
 mix it into the flour, kneading it very well and 
 and and ' Polly's voice dropped to a kind of 
 buzz, her head sank lower over the large cookery- 
 book which she was studying ; her elbows were on 
 the table, her short curling hair fell over her eyes, 
 and a dimpled hand firmly pressed each cheek. 
 
 Helen sighed slightly, and returned with a little 
 gesture of resignation to the disentangling of Polly's 
 work-basket. As she did so she seated herself more 
 firmly in her mother's arm-chair. Her little figure 
 looked slight in its deep and ample dimensions, and 
 her smooth fair face was slightly puckered with 
 anxiety. 
 
 " Polly," she said, suddenly ; " Polly, leave that 
 book alone. There's more in the world than house 
 keeping and pie-crust. Do you know that I have 
 discovered something, and I think, I really do think, 
 that we ought to go on with it. It was mother's 
 plan, and father will always agree to anything she 
 wished." t 
 
 Polly shut up Mrs. Beaton's cookery-book with 
 a bang, rose from her seat at the table, and opening
 
 SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME ? 45 
 
 the window sat down where the wind could ruffle 
 her hair and cool her hot cheeks. 
 
 "This is Friday," she said, "and my duties begin 
 on Monday. Helen, pie-crust is not unimportant 
 when success or failure hangs upon it ; puddings 
 may become vital, Helen, and, as to cheesecakes, I 
 would stake everything I possess in the world on 
 the manner in which father munches my first cheese 
 cake. Well, dear, never mind ; I'll try and turn 
 my distracted thoughts in your direction for a bit. 
 What's the discovery ? " 
 
 " Only," said Helen, " that I think I know what 
 makes father look so. gray, and why he has a stoop, 
 and why his eyes seem so sunken. Of course there 
 is the loss of our mother, but that is not the only 
 trouble. I think he has another, and I think also, 
 Polly, that he had this other trouble before mother 
 died, and that she helped him to bear it, and made 
 plans to lighten it for him. You remember what 
 one of her plans was, and how we weren't any of 
 us too well pleased. But I have been thinking 
 lately, since I began to guess father's trouble, that 
 we ought to carry it out just the same as if our 
 mother was with us." 
 
 "Yes," said Polly. "You have a very exciting 
 way of putting things, Nell, winding one up and up, 
 and not letting in the least little morsel of light. 
 What is father's trouble, and what was the plan ? 
 I can't remember any plan, and I only know about 
 father that he's the noblest of all noble men, and 
 that he bears mother's loss well, as nobody else 
 would have borne it. What other trouble has our 
 dear father, Nell ? God wouldn't be so cruel as to 
 give him another trouble." 
 
 " God is never cruel," said Helen, a beautiful, 
 steadfast light shining in her eyes. " I couldn't le$
 
 46 POLLY. 
 
 go the faith that God is always good. But father 
 oh, Polly, Polly, I am dreadfully afraid that father 
 is going to lose his sight." 
 
 "What?" said Polly. What? father lose his 
 sight? No, I'm not going to listen to you, Nell. 
 You needn't talk like that. It's perfectly horrid of 
 you. I'll go away at once and ask him. Father ! 
 Why his eyes are as bright as possible. I'll go this 
 minute and ask him." 
 
 " No, don't do that, Polly. I would never have 
 ppoken if I wasn't really sure, and I don't think it 
 would be right to ask him, or to speak about it, until 
 he tells us about it himself. But I began to guess 
 it a little bit lately, when I saw how anxious mother 
 seemed. For she was anxious, although she was 
 the brightest of all bright people. And after her 
 death father said I was to look through some of her 
 letters ; and I found one or two which told me that 
 what I suspected was the case, and father may 
 indeed, he probably will become quite blind, by- 
 and-by. That was that was What's the matter, 
 Polly?" 
 
 " Nothing," said Polly. " You needn't go on 
 you needn't say any more. It's a horrid world, 
 nothing is worth living for ; pie-crust, nor house 
 keeping, nor nothing. I hate the world, and every 
 one in it, and I hate you most of all, Nell, for your 
 horrid news. Father blind ! No, I won't believe it ; 
 it's all a lie." 
 
 "Poor Polly," said Helen. "Don't believe it, 
 dear, I wish I didn't. I think I know a little bit 
 how you feel. I'm not so hot and hasty and passion 
 ate as you, and oh, I'm not half, nor a quarter, so 
 clever, but still, I do know how you feel ; I Polly, 
 you startle me." 
 
 * Only you don't hate me at this moment," said
 
 SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME ? 47 
 
 Polly. And I don't I hate you, just ! There, you 
 can say anything after that. I know I'm a wretch 
 I know I'm hopeless. Even mother would say I 
 was hopeless if she saw me now, hating you, the 
 kindest and best of sisters. But I do, yes, I do, 
 most heartily. So you see you aren't like me, 
 Helen." 
 
 " I certainly never hated any one," said Helen. 
 " But you are excited, Polly, and this news is a 
 shock to you. We won't talk about it one way or 
 other, now, and we'll try as far as possible not to 
 think of it, except in so far as it ought to make us 
 anxious to carry out mother's plan." 
 
 Polly had crouched back away from the window, 
 her little figure all huddled up, her cheeks with 
 carnation spots on them, and her eyes, brimful of 
 the tears which she struggled not to shed, were 
 partly hidden by the folds of the heavy curtain 
 which half-enveloped her. 
 
 " You were going to say something else dreadfully 
 unpleasant," she remarked. "Well, have it out. 
 Nothing can hurt me very much just now." 
 
 "It's about the strangers," said Helen. "The 
 strangers who were to come in October. You surely 
 can't have forgotten them, Polly.". 
 
 Like magic the thunder-cloud departed from 
 Polly's face. The tears dried in her bright eyes, 
 and the curtain no longer enveloped her slight, 
 young figure. 
 
 " Why, of course," she said. " The strangers, how 
 could I have forgotten ! How curious we were about 
 them. We didn't know their names. Nothing, 
 nothing at all except that there were two, and that 
 they were coming from Australia. I always thought 
 of them as Paul and Virginia. Dear, dear, dear, I
 
 48 !>OLLY. 
 
 shall have more housekeeping than ever on my 
 shoulders with them about the place." 
 
 "They were coining in October," said Helen, 
 quietly. "Everything was arranged, although so 
 little was known. They were coming in a sailing 
 vessel, and the voyage was to be a long one, and 
 mother, herself, was going to meet them. Mother 
 often said that they would arrive about the second 
 week in October." 
 
 " In three weeks from now ? " said Polly. " We 
 are well on in September, now. I can't imagine how 
 we came to forget Paul and Virginia. Why, of 
 course, poor children, they must be quite anxious to 
 get to us. I wonder if I'd be a good person to go 
 and meet them. You are so shy with strangers you 
 know, Nell, and I'm not. Mother used to say I 
 didn't know what mauvaise honte meant. I don't 
 say that I like meeting them, poor things, but I'll 
 do it, if it's necessary. Still, Helen, I cannot make 
 out what special plan there is in the strangers com 
 ing. Nor what it has to do with father, with that 
 horrid piece of news you told me a few minutes 
 ago." 
 
 " It has a good deal to say to it, if you will only 
 listen," said Helen. " I have discovered by mother's 
 letters that the father of the strangers is to pay to 
 our father 400 a year as long as his children live 
 here. They were to be taught, and everything done 
 for them, and the strangers' father was to send over 
 a cheque for 100 for them every quarter. Now 
 Polly, listen. Our father is not poor, but neither 
 is he rich, and if if what we fear is going to happen, 
 he won't earn nearly so much money in his profes 
 sion. So it seems a great pity he should lose this 
 chance of earning 400 a year." 
 
 ** But nobody wants him to lose it," said Polly,
 
 " Paul and Virginia will be here in three weeks, and 
 then the pay will begin. 400 a year let me see, 
 that's just about eight pounds a week, that's what 
 father says he spends on the house, that's a lot to 
 spend, I could do it for much less. But no matter. 
 What are you puckering your brows for, Helen? 
 Of course the strangers are coming. 
 
 "Father said they were not to come," replied 
 Helen. " He told me so some weeks ago. When 
 they get to the docks he himself is going to meet 
 them, and he will take them to another home which 
 he has been inquiring about. He says that we can't 
 have them here now." 
 
 "But we must have them here," said Polly. 
 " What nonsense ! We must both of us speak to 
 our father at once." 
 
 " I have been thinking it over," said Helen, in her 
 gentle voice, " and I do really feel that it is a pity to 
 lose this chance of helping father and lightening his 
 cares. You see, Polly, it depends on us. Father 
 would do it if he could trust us, you and me, I 
 mean." 
 
 Well, so he can trust us," replied Polly, glibly. 
 " Everything will be all right. There's no occasion 
 to make a fuss, or to be frightened. We have got 
 to be firm, and rather old for our years, and if either 
 of us puts down her foot she has got to keep it 
 down." 
 
 " I don't know that at all," said Helen. " Mother 
 sometimes said it was wise to yield. Oh, Polly, I 
 don't feel at all wise enough for all that is laid on 
 me. We have to be examples in everything. I do 
 want to help father, but it would be worse to promise 
 to help him and then to fail." 
 
 "I'm not the least afraid," said Polly. "The 
 strangers must come, and father's purse must be
 
 50 POLLY. 
 
 filled in that jolly manner. I don't believe the story 
 about his eyes, Nell, but it will do him good to feel 
 that he has got a couple of steady girls like us to see 
 to him. Now I'm arranging a list of puddings for 
 next week, so you had better not talk any more. 
 We'll speak to father about Paul and Virginia after 
 dinner." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LIMITS. 
 
 EVEN the wisest men know very little of house 
 hold management, and never did an excellent and 
 well-intentioned individual put, to use a well-known 
 phrase, his foot more completely into it than Dr. 
 Maybright when he allowed Polly to learn ex 
 perience by taking the reins of household manage 
 ment for a week. 
 
 Except in matters that related to his own pro 
 fession, Dr. Maybright was apt to be slightly absent- 
 minded ; here he was always keenly alive. When 
 visiting a patient not a symptom escaped him, not 
 a nicker of timid eyelids passed unnoticed, not a 
 passing shade of color on the invalid's countenance 
 but called for his acute observation. In household 
 matters, however, he was apt to overlook trifles, and 
 very often completely to forget what seemed to his 
 family important arrangements. He was the kind 
 of man who was sure to be very much beloved at 
 .home, for he was neither fretful nor fussy, but took 
 large views of all things. Such people are appreci 
 ated, and if his children thought him the best of all 
 xnen, his servants also spoke of him as the most 
 perfect of masters. 
 
 "You might put anything before him," Mrs.
 
 LIMITS. 51 
 
 Power would aver. "Bless his 'art, he wouldn't 
 see, nor he wouldn't scold. Ef it were rinsings of 
 the teapot he would drink it instead of soup ; and 
 I say, and always will say, that ef a cook don't jelly 
 the soup for the like of a gentleman like the doctor 
 what have no mean ways and no fusses, she ain't 
 fit to call herself a cook." 
 
 So just because they loved him, Dr. Maybright's 
 servants kept his table fairly well, and his house 
 tolerably clean, and the domestic machinery went 
 on wheels, not exactly oiled, but with no serious clog 
 to their progress. 
 
 These things of course happened since Mrs. May 
 bright's death. In her day this gentlest and firmest 
 of mistresses, this most tactful of women, kept all 
 things in their proper place, and her servants obeyed 
 her with both will and cheerfulness. 
 
 On the Saturday before Polly's noviciate poor Dr. 
 Maybright's troubles began. He had completely 
 forgotten all about his promise to Polly, and was 
 surprised when the little girl skipped into his study 
 after breakfast, with her black frock put on more 
 neatly than usual, her hair well brushed and pushed 
 off her face, and a wonderful brown holland apron 
 enveloping her from her throat to her ankles. The 
 apron had several pockets, and certainly gave Polly 
 a quaint and original appearance. 
 
 " Here I am, father," she said. " I have come for 
 the money, please." 
 
 "The the what, my dear?" 
 
 Dr. Maybright put up his eyeglass, and surveyed 
 the little figure critically. 
 
 " Are these pockets for your school-books ? " he 
 said. " It is not a bad idea ; only don't lose them, 
 Polly. I don't like untidy books scattered here and 
 there."
 
 52 POLLY. 
 
 Polly took the opportunity to dart a quick, anx 
 ious glance into her father's eyes they were bright, 
 dark, clear. Of course Helen's horrid story was un 
 true. Her spirits rose, she gave a little skip, and 
 clasped her hands on the Doctor's arm. 
 
 " These are housekeeping pockets, father," she 
 said. " Nothing at all to say to books. I'm do 
 mestic, not intellectual ; my housekeeping begins on 
 Monday, you know, and I've come for the eighty 
 shillings now. Can you give it to me in silver, not 
 in gold, for I want to divide it, and pop it into the 
 little box with divisions at once ? " 
 
 " Bless me," said the Doctor, " I'd forgotten I 
 did not know that indigestion week was so near. 
 Well, here you are, Polly, two pounds in gold and 
 two pounds in silver. I can't manage more than 
 two sovereigns' worth of silver, I fear. Now my 
 love, as you are strong, be merciful give us only 
 small doses of poison at each meal. I beseech of 
 you, Polly, be temperate in your zeal." 
 
 " You laugh at me," said Polly. " Well, never 
 mind. I'm too happy to care. I don't expect you'll 
 talk about poisoning when you have eaten my 
 cheesecakes. And father, dear father, you will let 
 Paul and Virginia come? Nell and I meant to 
 speak to you yesterday about them, but you were 
 out all day. With me to housekeep, and Nell to 
 look after everybody, you needn't have the smallest 
 fear about Paul and Virginia ; they can come and 
 they can line your pockets, can't they ? 
 
 " My dear child, I have not an idea what you are 
 talking about. Who are Paul and Virginia have I 
 not a large enough family without taking in the in 
 habitants of a desert island ? There, I can't wait to 
 hear explanations now ; that is my patients' bell- 
 run away, my dear, run away."
 
 LIMITS. 53 
 
 Dr. Maybright always saw his poorer patients 
 gratis on Saturday morning from ten to twelve. 
 This part of his work pleased him, for he was the 
 sort of man who thought that the affectionate and 
 grateful glance in the eye, and the squeeze of the 
 hand, and the " God bless you, doctor," paid in many 
 cases better thah the guinea's worth. He had an 
 interesting case this morning, and again Polly and 
 her housekeeping slipped from his mind. He was 
 surprised, therefore, in the interim between the de 
 parture of one patient and the arrival of another, to 
 hear a somewhat tremulous tap at his study door, 
 and on his saying " Come in," to see the pretty but 
 decidedly ruffled face of his housemaid Alice pre 
 senting herself. 
 
 " Ef you please, Doctor, I won't keep you a 
 minute, but I thought I'd ask you myself ef it's 
 your wish as Miss Polly should go and give orders 
 that on Monday morning I'm to turn the linen-press 
 out from top to bottom, and to do it first of all be 
 fore the rooms is put straight. And if I'm to unpick 
 the blue muslin curtains, and take them down from 
 where they was hung by my late blessed mistress's 
 orders, in the spare room, and to fit them into the 
 primrose room over the porch for she says there's 
 a Miss Virginy and a Master Paul coming, and the 
 primrose room with the blue curtains is for one of 
 them, she says. And I want to know from you, 
 please, Doctor, if Miss Polly is to Mistress it over 
 me ? And to take away the keys of the linen-press 
 from me, and to follow me round, and to upset all 
 my work, what I never stood nor would stand. I 
 want to know if it's your wish, Doctor ? " 
 
 " The fact is, Alice," began the Doctor he put 
 his hand to his brow, and a dim look came over his 
 eyes " the fact is ah, that is my patients' bell, I
 
 54 POLLY. 
 
 must ask you to go, Alice, and to to moderate your 
 feelings. I have been anxious to give Miss Polly a 
 lesson in experience, and it is only for a week. You 
 will oblige me very much, Alice, by helping me in 
 this matter." 
 
 The doctor walked to the door as he spoke, and 
 opened it courteously. 
 
 "Come in, Johnson," he said, to a ruddy-faced 
 farmer, who was accompanied by a shy boy with a 
 swelled face. " Come in ; glad to see you, my 
 friend, Is Tommy's toothache better ? " 
 
 Alice said afterwards that she never felt smaller 
 in her life than when Dr. Maybright opened the 
 study door to show her out. 
 
 " Ef I'd been a queen he couldn't have done it 
 more elegant," she remarked. " Eh, but he's a 
 blessed man, and one would put up with two Miss 
 Pollys for the sake of serving him." 
 
 The Doctor having conquered Alice, again forgot 
 his second daughter's vagaries, but a much sterner 
 and more formidable interview was in store for him ; 
 it was one thing to conquer Alice, who was impres 
 sionable, and had a soft heart, and another to en 
 counter the stony visage and rather awful presence 
 of Mrs. Power. 
 
 " It's to give notice I've come, Dr. Maybright," 
 she said, dropping a curtsey, and twisting a corner 
 of her large white apron round with one formidable 
 red hand. "It's to give notice. This day month, 
 please, Doctor ; and, though I says it as shouldn't, 
 you won't get no one else to jelly your soups, nor 
 feather your potatoes, nor puff your pastry, as Jane 
 Power has done. But there's limits, Dr. Maybright ; 
 and I has come to give you notice, though out of no 
 disrespect to you, sir." 
 
 w Then why do you do it, Mrs. Power ? " said the
 
 LIMITS. 55 
 
 Doctor. "You are an honest and conscientious 
 servant, I know that from your late mistress's tes 
 timony. You cook very good dinners, too, and you 
 make suitable puddings for the children and pastry 
 not too rich. Why do you want to leave ? I don't 
 like change ; and, if it is a question of wages, per 
 haps I may be able to meet you." 
 
 " I'm obligated to you, Doctor ; but it ain't that. 
 I has my twenty-two pounds paid regular, and all 
 found. I ain't grumbling on that score, and Jane 
 Power was never havaricious nor grasping. I'm 
 obligated too by what you says with respect to the 
 pastry ; but, Doctor, it ain't in mortal woman to 
 stand a chit of a child being put over her. So I'm 
 going this day month ; and, with your leave, I'll turn 
 the key in the kitchen-door next week, or else I'll 
 forfeit my wage and go at once." 
 
 " Dear, dear," said the Doctor. " This is really 
 embarrassing. I never thought that Polly's expe 
 rience would upset the household economy in so 
 marked a manner. I am really annoyed, for I cer 
 tainly gave her leave to housekeep for a week." 
 
 " It isn't as I minds youth, Dr. May bright," con 
 tinued Mrs. Power. " I makes due allowances for 
 the young, for I says to myself, ' Jane Power, you 
 was once, so to speak, like an unfledged chick your 
 self ; ' but there's youth and youth, Dr. Maybright ; 
 and Miss Polly's of the kind as makes your 'air stand 
 on hend." 
 
 " Poor Polly," said the Doctor. 
 
 " No, sir, begging your parding, if you was in the 
 kitchen, it's ' poor Mrs. Power ' you'd be a-saying. 
 Now I don't say nothing agin Miss Nelly she's the 
 elder, and she have nice ways with her she takes 
 a little bit after my poor dear mistress ; oh, what a 
 nature was hers, blessed angel I "
 
 56 POLLY. 
 
 Here Mrs. Power rolled her eyes skywards, and 
 the Doctor, turning his back, walked to the window. 
 
 " Be brief," he said, " I am pressed for time." 
 
 " Sir, I was never one for long words ; agen' Miss 
 Helen I haven't a word to say. She comes down to 
 the kitchen after breakfast as pretty as you please, 
 and she says, * Power,' says she, 'you'll advise me 
 about the dinner to-day,' says she. ' Shall we have 
 minced collops, or roast beef? And shall we have 
 fruit tart with custard ? ' Pretty dear, she don't know 
 nothink, and she owns it, and I counsel her, as who 
 that wasn't the most hard-hearted would. But Miss 
 Polly, she's all on wires like, and she bounds in and 
 she says that I pepper the soup too strong, and that 
 I ought to go to cookery schools, and ef I'll go with 
 her that blessed minit she'll tell me what I wants 
 in my own store-room. There's limits, Dr. May- 
 bright, and Miss Polly's my limits ; so ef you'll 
 have no objection, sir, I'll go this day month." 
 
 " But I have an objection," replied Dr. Maybright. 
 " Even Polly's experiment must not cost me a valu 
 able servant. Mrs. Power, I have promised my 
 little girl, and I feel more than convinced that her 
 week.'s trial will ensure to you the freedom you desire 
 and deserve in the future. Listen, I have a plan. 
 " Suppose you go for a week's holiday on Monday ? " 
 
 " Oh, my word, sir ! And are you to be poisoned 
 hout and hout ? " 
 
 " That is unlikely. Maggie, your kitchen-maid, 
 is fond of cooking, and she won't quarrel with Miss 
 Polly. Let us consider it arranged, then. A week's 
 holiday won't do you any harm, cook, and your 
 expenses I will defray. Now, excuse me, I must go 
 out at once The carriage has been at the door for 
 some time."
 
 INDIGESTION WEEK. 57 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 INDIGESTION WEEK. 
 
 IT was quite early on the following Monday morn 
 ing when a light tap was heard outside the door of 
 the room where Helen and Polly slept. It was a 
 very light, modest, and uncertain tap, and it had 
 not the smallest effect upon Helen, who lay in soft 
 slumber, her pretty eyes closed, her gentle face calm 
 and rounded and child-like, and the softest breathing 
 coming from her rosy, parted lips. 
 
 Another little girl, however, was not asleep. At 
 that modest tap up sprang a curly head, two dark, 
 bright eyes opened wide, two white feet sprang 
 quickly but noiselessly on to the floor, and Polly had 
 opened the bedroom door wide to admit the short, 
 dumpy, but excited little person of Maggie, the 
 kitchen-maid. 
 
 " She's a-going, Miss Polly she's a-packing her 
 bandbox now, and putting the strap on. She's in a 
 hawful temper, but she'll be out of the house in less 
 than half an hour. There's a beautiful fire in the 
 kitchen, Miss, and the pan for frying bacon is pol 
 ished up so as you could 'most see yourself in it. 
 And the egg-saucepan is there all 'andy, and the 
 kettle fizzing and sputtering. I took cook up her 
 breakfast, but she said she didn't want none of our 
 poisonous messes, and she'd breakfast with her 
 cousin in the village if we'd no objection. She'll 
 be gone in no time now, Miss Polly, and I'm a- 
 wanting to know when you'll be a-coming down 
 stairs."
 
 58 POLLY. 
 
 " I'm going to dress immediately, Maggie," said 
 Polly. " I've scarcely slept all night, for this is an 
 anxious moment for me. I'll join you in half an 
 hour at the latest, Maggie, and have lots of sauce 
 pans and frying-pans and gridirons ready. Keep 
 the fire well up too, and see that the oven is hot. 
 There, fly away, I'll join you soon." 
 
 Maggie, who was only sixteen herself, almost 
 skipped down the passage. After the iron reign of 
 Mrs. Power, to work for Polly seemed like play to 
 her. 
 
 " She's a duck," she said to herself, " a real cosy 
 duck of a young lady. Oh, my word, won't we spin 
 through the stores this week ! Won't we just ! " 
 
 Meanwhile Polly was hastily getting into her 
 clothes. She did not wish to wake Helen, for she 
 was most anxious that no one should know that on 
 the first morning of her housekeeping she had arisen 
 soon after six o'clock. Her plans were all laid 
 beforehand, and a wonderfully methodical and well 
 arranged program, considering her fourteen years, 
 was hers ; she was all agog with eagerness to carry it 
 out. 
 
 " Oh, won't they have a breakfast this morning," 
 she said to herself. " Won't they open their eyes, 
 and won't Bob and Bunny look greedy. And Fire 
 fly, I must watch Firefly over those hot cakes, or she 
 may make herself sick. Poor father and Nell 
 they'll both be afraid at first that I'm a little too 
 lavish and inclined to be extravagant, but they'll 
 see by and by, and they'll acknowledge deep down 
 in their hearts that there never was such a house 
 keeper as Polly." 
 
 As the little maid dreamed these pleasant 
 thoughts she scrambled somewhat untidily into her 
 clothes, gave her hair a somewhat less careful brush
 
 INDIGESTION WEEK. 59 
 
 than usual, and finally knelt down to say her morn 
 ing prayer. Helen still slept, and Polly by a sudden 
 impulse chose to kneel by Helen's bed and not her 
 own. She pressed her curly head against the 
 mattress, and eagerly whispered her petition. She 
 was excited and sanguine, for this was to her a 
 moment of triumph ; but as she prayed a feeling of 
 rest and yet of longing overpowered her. 
 
 ** Oh, I am happy to-day," she murmured " but 
 oh, mother, oh, mother, I'd give everything in all the 
 wide world to have you back again ! I'd live on bread 
 and water I'd spend years in a garret just for you 
 to kiss me once again, mother, mother ! " 
 
 Helen stirred in her sleep, for Polly's last impul 
 sive words were spoken aloud. 
 
 " Has mother come back ? " she asked. 
 
 Her eyes were closed, she was dreaming. Polly 
 bent down and answered her. 
 
 " No," she said. " It is only me the most foolish 
 of all her children, who wants her so dreadfully." 
 
 Helen sighed, and turned her head uneasily, and 
 Polly, wiping away some moisture from her eyes, 
 ran out of the room. 
 
 Her housekeeping apron was on, her precious 
 money box was under her arm, the keys of the linen- 
 press jingled against a thimble and a couple of 
 pencils in the front pocket of the apron. Polly was 
 going down- stairs to fulfil her great mission ; it was 
 impossible for her spirits long to be downcast. The 
 house was deliciously still, for only the servants were 
 up at present, but the sun sent in some rays of 
 brightness at the large lobby windows, and the little 
 girl laughed aloud in her glee. 
 
 " Good morning, sun ! it is nice of you to smile at 
 me the first morning of my great work. It is very 
 good-natured of you to come instead of sending that
 
 60 POLLY. 
 
 disagreeable friend of yours, Mr. Rain. Oh, how 
 delicious it is to be up early. Why, it is not half- 
 past six yet oh, what a breakfast I shall prepare 
 for father ! " 
 
 In the kitchen, which was a large, cheerful apart 
 ment looking out on the vegetable garden, Polly 
 found her satellite, Maggie, on the very tiptoe of 
 expectation. 
 
 " I has laid the servants' breakfast in the 'all, Miss 
 Polly ; I thought as you shouldn't be bothered with 
 them, with so to speak such a lot on your hands this 
 morning. So I has laid it there, and lit a fire for 
 them, and all Jane has to do when she's ready is to 
 put the kettle on, for the tea's on the table in the 
 small black caddy, so there'll be no worriting over 
 them. And ef you please, Miss Polly, I made bold 
 to have a cup of tea made and ready for you, Miss 
 here it is, if you please, Miss, and a cut off the brown 
 home-made loaf." 
 
 " Delicious," said Polly ; " I really am as hungry 
 as possible, although I did not know it until I saw 
 this nice brown bread-and-butter. Why, you have 
 splendid ideas in you, Maggie ; you'll make a first- 
 rate cook yet. But now " here the young house 
 keeper thought it well to put on a severe manner 
 " I must know what breakfast you have arranged 
 for the servants' hall. It was good-natured of you 
 to think of saving me trouble, Maggie, but please 
 understand that during this week you do nothing 
 on your own responsibility. -Tarn the housekeeper, 
 and although I don't say I am old, I am quite old 
 enough to be obeyed." 
 
 " Very well, Miss," said Maggie, who had gone to 
 open her oven, and poke up the fire while Polly was 
 speaking ; " it's a weight off my shoulders, Miss, for 
 I wasn't never one to be bothered with thinking.
 
 INDIGESTION WEEK. 61 
 
 Mother says as I haven't brains as would go on the 
 top of a sixpenny-bit, so what's to be expected of me, 
 Miss. There, the oven's all of a beautiful glow, and 
 'ull bake lovely. You was asking what breakfast I 
 has put in the servants' 'all well, cold bacon and 
 plenty of bread, and a good pat of the cooking 
 butter. Why, Miss Polly, oh, lor, what is the mat 
 ter, Miss?" 
 
 " Only that you have done very wrong, Maggie," 
 said Polly. " You would not like to have lots of 
 good things going up to the dining-room, and have 
 no share yourself. I call it selfish of you, Maggie, 
 for of course you knew you would be in the kitchen 
 with me, and would be sure to come in for bits. Cold 
 bacon, indeed ! Poor servants, they're not likely to 
 care for my housekeeping if that is all I provide for 
 them ! No, Maggie, when I made out my pro 
 gramme, I thought of the servants as well as the 
 family. I will just refer to my tablets, Maggie, and 
 see what breakfast I arranged for the hall for Mon 
 day morning." 
 
 While Polly was speaking Maggie opened her eyes 
 and mouth wider and wider and when the young 
 lady read aloud from her tablets she could not sup 
 press an expostulatory " oh ! " 
 
 "Monday kitchen breakfast," read Polly 
 " Bacon, eggs, marmalade, sardines. Hot coffee, fresh 
 rolls, if possible." 
 
 " My word, but that is wasteful," said Maggie. 
 
 Polly's cheeks flushed. She glanced at her small 
 handmaid, raised her hand in a reproving manner, 
 and continued to read 
 
 " Dining-room breakfast : Hot scones, baked 
 muffins, eggs and bacon, devilled kidneys, scrambled 
 eggs, a dish of kippered herrings, marmalade, honey, 
 jam, tea and coffee. Oh, and chocolate for Firefly/'
 
 62 POLLY. 
 
 ** My word, Miss," again exclaimed Maggie. " It'g 
 seven o'clock now, and the Doctor likes his breakfast 
 sharp on the table at eight. If we has to get all this 
 ready hi an hour we had better fly round and lose no 
 more time. I'll see to the 'all, bless your kind 'eart, 
 Miss Polly, but we'd better get on with the dining- 
 room breakfast, or there'll be nothing ready in any 
 thing like time. Will you mix up the cakes, Miss 
 Polly, while I sees to the kidneys, and to the bacon 
 and eggs, and the scrambled eggs, and the kippers. 
 My word, but there'll be a power more sent up than 
 can be eaten. But whatever goes wrong we should 
 have the cakes in the oven, Miss Polly." 
 
 Polly did not altogether approve of Maggie's tone, 
 but time did press ; the kitchen clock already pointed 
 to five minutes past seven ; it was much easier to 
 write out a programme up-stairs at one's leisure in 
 the pleasant morning-room than to carry it out in a 
 hurry, in the hot kitchen, particularly when one's 
 own knowledge was entirely theoretical, not prac 
 tical. Yes, the kitchen was very hot, and time never 
 seemed to fly so fast. 
 
 " First of all, open the window, Maggie ; it is 
 wrong to have rooms so hot as this," said the young 
 housekeeper, putting on her most authoritative 
 air. 
 
 "No, Miss, that I mustn't," said Maggie, firmly. 
 " You'd cool down the oven in less than five minutes. 
 Now, shall I fetch you the flour and things from the 
 store-room, Miss ? Why, dear me, your cheeks has 
 peonyed up wonderful. You're new to it yet, Miss, 
 but you'll soon take it quiet-like. Cold bacon is a 
 very nice breakfast for the 'all, Miss, and cooking 
 butter's all that servants is expected to eat of. Now 
 shall I fetch you the flour and the roller, and th 
 milk, Miss Polly ? "
 
 INDIGESTION WEEK. 63 
 
 u Yes, get them," said Polly. She felt decidedly 
 annoyed and cross. " I wish you would not talk so 
 much, Maggie," she said ; " go and fetch the materials 
 for the hot cakes." 
 
 " But I don't know yet what I'm to get, Miss. Is 
 it a dripping cake, or is it a cream cake, or is it a 
 butter-and-egg cake ? I'll bring you things accord 
 ing, Miss Polly, if you'll be so good as to instruct 
 me." 
 
 " Oh dear, oh dear," said Polly, " you make my 
 head go round, when you mention so many kinds of 
 cake, Maggie. I really thought you knew something 
 of cooking. I just want hot cakes. I don't care 
 what kind they are ; oh, I suppse we had better 
 have the richest to-day. Get the material for the 
 butter-and-egg cake, Maggie, and do be quick." 
 
 Thus admonished, Maggie did move off with a 
 dubious look on her face in the direction of the store 
 room. 
 
 " She don't know nothing, poor dear," she said to 
 herself ; " she aims high she's eat up with ambition, 
 but she don't know nothing. It's lucky we in the 
 'all is to have the cold bacon. I don't know how to 
 make a butter-and-egg hot cake oh, my word, a fine 
 scolding Mrs. Power will give us when she comes 
 back," 
 
 Here Maggie approached the store-room door. 
 Then she uttered a loud and piercing exclamation 
 and flew back to Polly. 
 
 " She's gone and done us, Miss Polly," she ex 
 claimed, " She's gone and done us ! Cook's off, and 
 the key of the store-room in her pocket. There's 
 nothing for breakfast, Miss Polly no eggs, no but 
 ter, no marmalade, no sugar, no nothing." 
 
 Poor Polly's rosy little face turned white. 
 
 w It can't be true," she said. And she flew down
 
 (54 POLLY. 
 
 tiio passage to the store-room herself. Alas! onlj 
 U> peep through the key-hole, for the inhospitable 
 door was firmly locked, and nowhere could the key 
 be discovered. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A WAS AN APPLE PIB. 
 
 THE first day of Polly's housekeeping was long 
 remembered in the household. In the first place, 
 the breakfast, though fairly abundant, was plain. 
 A large piece of cold bacon graced one end of the 
 board, a brown loaf stood on a trencher in the 
 centre, and when Helen took her place opposite the 
 tea-tray she found herself provided with plenty of 
 milk and sugar, certainly, and a large teapot of 
 strong tea, but the sugar was brown. No butter, no 
 marmalade, no jams, no hot cakes, graced the board. 
 The children spoke of the fare as severe, and the 
 Doctor's dark brown eyes twinkled as he helped his 
 family to abundant slices of cold bacon. 
 
 ** Not a word," hs said, in a loud aside to his boys 
 and girls. " I did not think it was in Polly to be so 
 sensible. "Why we shall get through indigestion 
 week quite comfortably, if she provides us with 
 plain, wholesome fare like this." 
 
 Polly took her own place at the table rather late. 
 Her cheeks were still peonyed, as Maggie expressed 
 it, her eyes were downcast, her spirits were de 
 cidedly low, and she had a very small appetite. 
 
 After breakfast she beat a hasty retreat, and 
 presently the boys rushed in in great excitement, to 
 announce to Helen and Katie the interesting fact 
 that Polly was walking across the fields accompanied
 
 A WAS AN APPLE PIE. 65 
 
 by Maggie, each of them laden with a large market- 
 basket. 
 
 "They are almost running, both of them," ex 
 claimed Bunny, " and pretty Poll is awful cross, for 
 when we wanted to go with her she just turned 
 round and said we'd have a worse dinner than break 
 fast if we didn't leave her alone." 
 
 " We ran away quickly enough after that," con 
 tinued Bob, " for we didn't want no more cold-bacon 
 and no-butter meals. We had a nasty breakfnst 
 to-day, hadn't we, Nell ? And Poll is a bad houue. 
 keeper, isn't she ? " 
 
 " Oh leave her alone, do," said Helen. " She is 
 trying her very best. Run out and play, boys, and 
 don't worry about the meals." 
 
 The two boys, known in the family as " the 
 scamps," quickly took their departure, and Katie 
 began to talk in her most grown-up manner to Helen. 
 Katie was a demure little damsel, she was fond of 
 using long words, and thought no one in the world 
 like Helen, whom she copied in all particulars. 
 
 " Poll is too ambitious, and she's sure to fail," she 
 began. But Helen shut her up. 
 
 " If Polly does fail, you'll be dreadfully sorry, I'm 
 sure, Katie," she said. "I know I shall be sorry. 
 It will make me quite unhappy, for I never saw any 
 one take more pains about a thing than Polly has 
 taken over her housekeeping. Yes, it will be very 
 sad if Polly fails ; but I don't think she will, for she 
 is really a most clever girl. Now, Katie, will you 
 read your English History lesson aloud ? " 
 
 Katie felt crushed. In her heart of hearts she 
 thought even her beloved Helen a little too lenient. 
 
 " Never mind," she said to herself, " won't Dolly 
 and Mabel have a fine gossip with me presently over 
 the breakfast Polly gave us this morning."
 
 ft* fc)LL*. 
 
 Meanwhile the anxious, small housekeeper Was 
 making her way as rapidly as possible in the direc 
 tion of the village. 
 
 " We haven't a minute to lose, Maggie," she said, 
 as they trudged along. " Can you remember the list 
 of things I gave you to buy at the grocery shop ? 
 It is such a pity you can't read, Maggie, for if you 
 could I'd have written them down for you." 
 
 " It wasn't the Board's fault, nor my mother's," 
 answered Maggie, glibly. " It was all on account of 
 my brain being made to fit on the top of a sixpence. 
 Yes, Miss, I remembers the list, and I'll go to Wat 
 son's and the butcher's while you runs on to the 
 farm for the butter and eggs." 
 
 "You have got to get ten things," proceeded 
 Polly; "don't forget, ten things at the grocer*s. 
 You had better say the list over to me." 
 
 " All right, Miss Polly, ten ; I can tick one off on 
 each finger: white sugar, coffee, rice, marmalade, 
 strawberry jam, apricot jam, mustard, pickles is 
 they mixed or plain, Miss Polly ? raisins, currants. 
 There, Miss, I has them all as pat as possible." 
 
 " Well, stop a minute," said Polly. " I'm going 
 to unlock my box now. Hold it for me, Maggie, 
 while I open it. Here, I'm going to take half-a- 
 sovereign out of the grocery division. You must 
 take this half-sovereign to Watson's, and pay for the 
 things. I have not an idea how much they cost, but 
 I expect you'll have a good lot of change to give me 
 After that, you are to go on to the butcher's and buy 
 four pounds of beef-steak. Here is another half- 
 sovereign that you will have to pay the butcher out 
 of. Be sure you don't mix the change, Maggie. 
 Pop the butcher's change into one pocket, and the 
 grocer's change into another. Now, do you know 
 what we are going to have for dinner ? "
 
 A WAS AN APPLE PIE. (ft 
 
 ** No, Miss, I'm sure I don't. I expect it'L sound 
 big to begin with, and end small, same as the break 
 fast did. Why, Miss Polly, you didn't think cold 
 bacon good enough for the servants, arvd yet you set 
 it down, in the end afore your pa." 
 
 Polly looked hard at Maggie. She suddenly be 
 gan to think her not at all a nice girl. 
 
 " I was met by adversity," she said. " It is wrong 
 of you to speak to me in that tone, Maggie ; Mrs. 
 Power behaved very badly, and I could not help 
 myself ; but she need not think she is going to beat 
 me, and whatever I suffer, I scorn to complain. 
 To-night, after every one is in bed, I am going to 
 make lots of pies and tarts, and cakes, and cheese 
 cakes. You will have to help me ; but we will talk 
 of that by and by. Now, I want to speak about the 
 dinner. It must be simple to-day. We will have 
 a beef-steak pudding and pancakes. Do you know 
 how to toss pancakes, Maggie ? " 
 
 " Oh, lor', Miss," said Maggie, " I did always love 
 to see mother at it. She used to toss 'em real beau 
 tiful, and I'm sure I could too. That's a very nice 
 dinner, Miss, 'olesome and good, and you'll let me 
 toss the pancakes, won't you, Miss Polly ? " 
 
 " Well, you may try, Maggie. But here we are 
 at the village. Now, please, go as quickly as pos 
 sible to Watson's, and the butcher's, and meet me 
 at this stile in a quarter of an hour. Be very care 
 ful of the change, Maggie, and be sure you put the 
 butcher's in one pocket and the grocer's in another. 
 Don't mix them everything depends on your not 
 mixing them, Maggie." 
 
 The two girls parted, each going quickly in op 
 posite directions. Polly had a successful time at 
 the farm, and when she once again reached the 
 turn-stile her basket contained two dozen new-lai$
 
 68 POLLY. 
 
 eggs, two or three pounds of delicious fresh Gutter, 
 and a small jug of cream. The farmer's wife, Mrs. 
 White, had been very pleased to see her, and had 
 complimented her on her discernment in choosing 
 the butter and eggs. Her spirits were now once 
 again excellent, and she began to forget the sore in 
 jury Mrs. Power had done her by locking the store 
 room door. 
 
 "It's all lovely," she said to herself; "it's all 
 turning out as pleasant as possible. The breakfast 
 was nothing, they'd have forgotten the best break 
 fast by now, and they'll have such a nice dinner. I 
 can easily make a fruit tart for father, as well as the 
 pancakes, and won't he enjoy Mrs. White's nice 
 cream ? It was very good of her to give it to me ; 
 and it was very cheap, too only eighteenpence. 
 But, dear me, dear me, how I wish Maggie would 
 come 1 " 
 
 There was no sign, however, of any stout, un 
 wieldy young person walking down the narrow path 
 which led to the stile. Strain her eyes as she would, 
 Polly could not see any sign of Maggie approach 
 ing. She waited for another five minutes, and then 
 decided to go home without her. 
 
 " For she may have gone round by the road," she 
 said to herself, " although it was very naughty of 
 her if she did so, for I told her to be sure to meet me 
 at the turnstile. Still I can't wait for her any 
 longer, for I must pick the fruit for my tart, and I 
 ought to see that Alice is doing what I told her 
 about the new curtains." 
 
 Off trotted Polly with her heavy basket once 
 again across the fields. It was a glorious Sep 
 tember day, and the soft air fanned her cheeks and 
 raised her already excited spirits. She felt more 
 Cheerful than she had done since her mother died,
 
 A WAS AN APPLE PIE. 69 
 
 and many brilliant visions of hope filled her ambi 
 tious little head. Yes, father would see that he was 
 right in trusting her; Nell would discover that 
 there was no one so clever as Polly; Mrs. Power 
 would cease to defy her; Alice would obey her 
 cheerfully ; in short, she would be the mainstay and 
 prop of her family. 
 
 On her way through the kitchen-garden Polly 
 picked up a number of fallen apples, and then she 
 went quickly into the house, to be met on the thresh 
 old by Firefly. 
 
 tt Oh, Poll Parrot, may I come down with you to 
 the kitchen ? I'd love to see you getting the dinner 
 ready, and I could help, indeed I could. The others 
 are all so cross ; that is, all except Nell. Katie is in 
 a temper, and so are Dolly and Mabel ; but I stood 
 up for you, Poll Parrot, for I said you didn't mean 
 to give us the very nastiest breakfast in the world. 
 I said it was just because you weren't experienced 
 enough to know any better that's what I said, 
 Poll." 
 
 "Well, you made a great mistake then," said 
 Polly. " Not experienced, indeed ! as if I didn't 
 know what a good breakfast was like. I had a mis 
 fortune; a dark deed was done, and I was the 
 victim, but I scorn to complain, I let you all think 
 as you like. No, you can't come to the kitchen with 
 me, Firefly ; it isn't a fit place for children. Run 
 away now, do" 
 
 Poor Fly's small face grew longing and pathetic, 
 but Polly was obdurate. 
 
 " I can't have children about," she said to herself, 
 and soon she was busy peeling her apples and pre 
 paring her crust for the pie. She succeeded fairly 
 well, although the water with which she mixed her 
 dough would run all over the board, and her nice
 
 70 POLLY. 
 
 fresh butter stuck in the most provoking way to the 
 rolling-pin. Still, the pie was made, after a fashion, 
 and Polly felt very happy, as she amused herself 
 cutting out little ornamental leaves from what re 
 mained of her pastry to decorate it. It was a good- 
 sized tart, and when she had crowned it with a 
 wreath of laurel leaves she thought she had never 
 seen anything so handsome and appetizing. Alas, 
 however, for poor Polly, the making of this pie was 
 her one and only triumph. 
 
 The morning had gone very fast, while she was 
 walking to the village securing her purchases, and 
 coming home again. She was startled when she 
 looked at the kitchen clock to find that it pointed 
 to a quarter past twelve. At the same time she dis 
 covered that the kitchen fire was nearly out, and 
 that the oven was cold. Father always liked the 
 early dinner to be on the table sharp at one o'clock ; 
 it would never, never do for Polly's first dinner to 
 be late. She must not wait any longer for that 
 naughty Maggie ; she must put coals on the fire her 
 self, and wash the potatoes, and set them on to boil. 
 
 This was scarcely the work of an ordinary lady 
 like housekeeper ; but Polly tried to fancy she was in 
 Canada, or in even one of the less civilized settle 
 ments, where ladies put their hands to anything, and 
 were all the better for it. 
 
 She had a great hunt to find the potatoes, and 
 when she had washed them which it must be owned 
 she did not do at all well she had still greater diffi 
 culty in selecting a pot which would hold them. She 
 found one at last, and with some difficulty placed it 
 on the kitchen-range. She had built up her fire with 
 some skill, but was dismayed to find that, try as she 
 would, she could get no heat into the oven. The fact 
 was, she had not the least idea how to direct thq 
 
 r
 
 A WAS AN APPLE PIE. 71 
 
 draught in the right direction ; and although the fire 
 burned fiercely, and the potatoes soon began to bubble 
 and smoke, the oven, which was to cook poor Polly's 
 tart, remained cold and irresponsive. 
 
 Well, cold as it was, she would put her pie in, for 
 time was flying as surely it had never flown before, 
 and it was dreadful to think that there would be 
 nothing at all for dinner but potatoes. 
 
 Oh, why did not that wicked Maggie come ! Real 
 ly Polly did not know that any one could be quite so 
 depraved and heartless as Maggie was turning out. 
 She danced about the kitchen in her impatience, 
 and began to think she understood something of the 
 wickedness of those cities described in the Bible, 
 which were destroyed by fire on account of their sins, 
 and also of the state of the world before the Flood 
 came. 
 
 " They were all like Maggie," she said to herself. 
 " I really never heard of any one before who was 
 quite so hopelessly bad as Maggie." 
 
 The kitchen clock pointed to the half hour, and 
 even to twenty minutes to one. It was hopeless to 
 think of pancakes now equally hopeless to consider 
 the possibilities of a beefsteak pudding. They would 
 be very lucky if they had steak hi any form. Still, 
 if Maggie came at once that might be managed, and 
 nice potatoes, beefsteak, apple-tart and cream would 
 be better than no dinner at all. 
 
 Just at this moment, when Polly's feelings were 
 almost reduced to despair, she was startled by a queer 
 sound, which gradually came nearer and nearer. It 
 was the sound of some one sobbing, and not only 
 sobbing, but crying aloud with great violence. The 
 kitchen door was suddenly burst open, and dishev 
 eled, tear-stained, red-faced Maggie rushed in, and 
 threw herself on her knees at Polly's feet.
 
 72 POLLY. 
 
 I has gone and done it, Miss Polly," she ex 
 claimed. " I was distraught-like, and my poor little 
 bit of a brain seemed to give way all of a sudden. 
 Mother's in a heap of trouble, Miss Polly. I went 
 round to see her, for it was quite a short cut to Wat 
 son's round by mother's, and mother she were in an 
 awful fixing. She hadn't nothing for the rent, Miss 
 Polly, 'cause the fruit was blighted this year ; and the 
 landlord wouldn't give her no more grace, 'cause his 
 head is big and his heart is small, same as 'tis tother 
 way with me, Miss Polly, and the bailiffs was going 
 to seize mother's little bits of furniture, and mother 
 she was most wild. So my head it seemed to go, 
 Miss Polly, and I clutched hold of the half-sovereign 
 in the butcher's pocket, and the half-sovereign in 
 the grocer's pocket, and I said to mother, 'Miss 
 Polly'll give 'em to you, ' cause it's a big heart as 
 Miss Polly has got. They was meant for the family 
 dinner, but what's dinner compared to your feelings. 
 So mother she borrowed of the money, Miss Polly, 
 and I hasn't brought home nothink ; I hasn't truly, 
 Miss." 
 
 Maggie's narrative was interspersed with very 
 loud sobs, and fierce catches of her breath, and her 
 small eyes were almost sunken out of sight. 
 
 " Oh, I know you're mad with me," she said, in 
 conclusion. "But what's dinner compared with 
 mother's feelings. Oh, Miss Polly, don't look at me 
 like that ! " 
 
 " Get up," said Polly, severely. "You are just like 
 the people before the Flood ; I understand about 
 them at last. I cannot speak to you now, for we 
 have not a moment to lose. Can you make the oven 
 hot ? There are only potatoes for dinner, unless the 
 apple tart can be got ready in time." 
 
 " Oh, lor' ! Miss Polly, I'll soon set that going
 
 POTATOES-MINUS POINT. 73 
 
 why, you has the wrong flue out, Miss. See now, 
 the heat's going round it lovely. Oh, what an elegant 
 pie you has turned out, Miss Polly ! Why, it's quite 
 wonderful ! You has a gift in the cookery line, Miss. 
 Oh, darling Miss Polly, don't you be a naming of me 
 after them Flooders ; it's awful to think I'm like one 
 of they. It's all on account of mother, Miss Polly. 
 It would have gone to your heart, Miss Polly, if you 
 seen mother a looking at the eight- day clock and 
 thinking of parting from it. Her tears made channels 
 on her cheeks, Miss Polly, and it was 'eart-piercing 
 to view her. Oh, do take back them words, Miss 
 Polly. Don't say as I'm a Flooder." 
 
 Polly certainly had a soft heart, and although 
 nothing could have mortified her more than the 
 present state of affairs, she made up her mind to 
 screen Maggie, and to be as little severe to her as 
 she could. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 POTATOES MINUS POINT. 
 
 DR. MAYBBIGHT had reason again to congratulate 
 himself when he sat down to a humble dinner of 
 boiled potatoes. 
 
 " If this regimen continues for a week," he said, 
 under his breath, " we must really resort to tonics. 
 I perceive I did Polly a gross injustice. She does 
 not mean to make us ill with rich living." 
 
 The doctor ate his potatoes with extreme cheer 
 fulness, remarking as he did so on their nutritive 
 qualities, and explaining to his discontented family 
 how many people lived on these excellent roots.
 
 74 POLLY. 
 
 * The only thing we want," he said, " is a red her- 
 ving ; we might then have that most celebrated of 
 all Irish dishes ' potatoes and point.' " 
 
 Do tell us what that is, father," said Helen, who 
 was anxious to draw the direful glances of the rest 
 of the family from poor Polly. 
 
 " ' Potatoes and point,' " said Dr. Maybright, rais 
 ing his head for a moment, while a droll glance filled 
 .iis eyes, " is a simple but economical form of diet. 
 The herring is hung by a string over the center of 
 the board, and each person before he eats his potato 
 points it at the herring ; by so doing a subtle flavor 
 of herring is supposed to be imparted to the potato. 
 The herring lasts for some time, so the diet is really 
 a cheap one. Polly, dear, what is the matter ? I 
 never saw these excellent apples of the earth better 
 cooked." 
 
 Polly was silent; her blushing cheeks alone 
 betrayed her. She was determined to make a good 
 meal, and was sustained by the consciousness that 
 she had not betrayed Maggie, and the hope that the 
 apple-tart would prove excellent. 
 
 It certainly was a noble apple-pie, and the faces 
 of the children quite cheered up at the sight of it. 
 They were very hungry, and were not particular as to 
 the quality of the crust. Mrs. White's cream, too, 
 was delicious, so the second part of Polly's first 
 dinner quite turned out a success. 
 
 After the meal had come to an end, Helen called 
 her second sister aside. 
 
 " Polly," she said, " I think we ought to speak to 
 father now about the strangers coming. Time is 
 going on, and if they come we ought to begin to 
 prepare for them, and the more I think of it the more 
 sure I am that they ought to come." 
 
 * All right,'' saitf Polly. " Only, is this a good
 
 POTATOES-MINUS POINT. 75 
 
 time to speak to father ? For I am quite sure he 
 must be vexed with me." 
 
 " You must not think so, Polly," said Helen, kissing 
 her. " Father has given you a week to try to do 
 your best in, and he won't say anything one way or 
 another until the time is up. Come into his study 
 now, for I know he is there, and we really ought to 
 speak to him." 
 
 Polly's face was still flushed, but the Doctor, 
 who had absolutely forgotten the simplicity of his 
 late meal, received both the girls with equal affec 
 tion. 
 
 " Well, my loves," he said, " can I do anything 
 for you ? I am going for a pleasant drive into the 
 country this afternoon. Would you both like to 
 come ? " 
 
 " I should very much," said Helen ; but Polly 
 with a somewhat important little sigh, remarked 
 that household matters would keep her at home. 
 
 * Well, my dear, you must please yourself. But 
 can L do anything for either of you now ? you both 
 look full of business." 
 
 " We are, father," said Polly r who was always the 
 impetuous one. " We want to know if Paul and 
 Virginia may come." 
 
 " My dear, this is the second time you have spoken 
 to me of those deserted orphans. I don't understand 
 you." 
 
 " It is this, father," explained Helen. " We think 
 the children from Australia the children mother was 
 arranging about might come here still. We mean 
 that Po/iy and I would like them to come, and that 
 we would do our best for them. We think, Polly 
 and I do, that mother, even though she is not here, 
 would still like the strangers to come." 
 
 * Sit down, Helen," said the Doctor ; the harassed
 
 76 POLLY. 
 
 look had once again come across his face, anfl even 
 Polly noticed the dimness in his eyes. 
 
 " You must not undertake too much, you two," he 
 said. " You are only children. You are at an age to 
 miss your mother at every turn. We had arranged to 
 have a boy and girl from Australia to live here, but 
 when your mother your mother was taken I gave 
 up the idea. It was too late to stop their coming 
 to England, but I think I can provide a temporary 
 home for them when they get to London. You need 
 not trouble your head about the strange children, 
 Nell." 
 
 "It is not that," said Polly. "We don't know 
 them yet, so of course we don't love them, but we 
 wish them to come here, because we wish for their 
 money. It will be eight pounds a week ; just what 
 you spend on the house, you know, father." 
 
 " What a little economist ! " said Dr. May bright, 
 stretching out his hand and drawing Polly to him. 
 " Yes, I was to receive 400 a year for the children, 
 and it would have been a help, certainly it would have 
 been a help by-and-by. Still, my dear girls, I don't 
 see how it is to be managed." 
 
 ** But really, father, we are so many that two more 
 make very little difference," explained Helen. " Polly 
 and I are going to try hard to be steady and good, 
 and we think it would certainly please mother if you 
 let the strangers come here, and we tried to make, 
 them happy. If you would meet them, father, and 
 bring them here just at first, we might see how we 
 got on." 
 
 " I might," said the Doctor in a meditative voice, 
 " and 400 is a good deal of money. It is not easily 
 earned, and with a large family it is always wanted. 
 That's what your mother said, and she was very wise. 
 Still, still, children, I keep forgetting how old you are.
 
 POTATOES MINUS POINT. 77 
 
 In reality you are, neither of you, grown up ; in reality 
 Polly is quite a child, and you, my wise little Nell, 
 are very little more. I have offended your aunt, Mrs. 
 Cameron, as it is, and what will she say if I yield to 
 you on this point ? Still, still 
 
 " Oh, father, don't mind what that tiresome Aunt 
 Maria says or thinks on any subject," said Polly. 
 " Why should we mind her, she wasn't mother's real 
 sister. We scarcely know her at all, and she scarcely 
 knows us. We don't like her, and we are sure she 
 doesn't like us. Why should she spoil our lives, and 
 prevent our helping you ? For it would help you 
 to have the strangers here, wouldn't it, father ? " 
 
 By-and-by it would," answered the Doctor. " By 
 and-by it would help me much." 
 
 Again the troubled expression came to his face, 
 and the dimness was perceptible in his eyes. 
 
 " You will let us try it, father," said Helen. " We 
 can but fail ; girls as young as us have done as much 
 before. I am sure girls as young as we are have 
 done harder things before, so why should not we 
 try?" 
 
 " I am a foolish old man," said the Doctor. " I 
 suppose I shall be blamed for this, not that it greatly 
 matters. Well, children, let it be as you wish. I will 
 go and meet the boy and girl in London, and bring 
 them to the Hollow. We can have them for a month, 
 and if we fail, children," added the Doctor, a twinkle 
 of amusement overspreading his face, " we won't tell 
 any one but ourselves. It is quite possible that in the 
 future we shall be comparatively poor if we cannot 
 manage to make that boy and girl from Australia 
 comfortable and happy ; but Polly there has taught 
 us how to economize, for we can always fall back 
 on potatoes and point." 
 
 " Oh oh oh, *o,ther," came from Polly's lips.
 
 78 POLLY. 
 
 " That is unkind, dear father," said Helen. 
 
 But they both hung about his neck and kissed 
 him, and when Dr. May bright drove away that after 
 noon on his usual round of visits, his heart felt com 
 paratively light, and he owned to himself that those 
 girls of his, with all their eccentricities, were a great 
 comfort to him. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 IN THE ATTIC. 
 
 THERE is no saying how Polly's week of house 
 keeping might have ended, nor how substantial her 
 castle in the air might have grown, had not a 
 catastrophe occurred to her of a double and complex 
 nature. 
 
 The first day during which Polly and Maggie, 
 between them, catered for and cooked the family 
 meals, produced a plain diet in the shape of cold 
 bacon for breakfast, and a dinner of potatoes, minus 
 "point." But on the Tuesday, Wednesday, and 
 Thursday of that week Maggie quite redeemed her 
 character of being a Flooder, and worked under Polly 
 with such goodwill that, as she herself expressed it, 
 her small brains began to grow. Fortunately, Mrs. 
 Kicketts, Maggie's mother, was not obliged to meet 
 her rent every day of the week, therefore no more 
 of Polly's four pounds went in that direction. And 
 Polly read Mrs. Beaton's Cookery-book with such 
 assiduity, and Maggie carried out her directions 
 with such implicit zeal and good faith, that really 
 most remarkable meals began to grace the Doctor's 
 board. Pastry in every imaginable form and guise, 
 cakes of all descriptions ; vegetables, so cooked and
 
 IN THE A* TIC. 79 
 
 eo flavored, that their original taste was completely 
 obliterated; meats cooked in German, Italian, and 
 American styles ; all these things, and many more, 
 graced the board and speedily vanished. The 
 children became decidedly excited about the meals, 
 and Polly was cheered and regarded as a sort of 
 queen. The Doctor sighed, however, and counted 
 the days when Nell and Mrs. Power should once 
 more peacefully reign in Polly's stead. Nurse asked 
 severely to have all the nursery medicine bottles 
 replenished. Firefly looked decidedly pasty, and, 
 after one of Polly's richest plum-cakes, with three 
 tiers of different colored icings, Bunny was heard 
 crying the greater part of one night. Still the little 
 cook and housekeeper bravely pursued her career 
 of glory, and all might have gone well, and Polly 
 might have worn a chastened halo of well-earned 
 success round her brow for the remainder of her 
 natural life, but for the catastrophe of which I am 
 about to speak. 
 
 Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday the family 
 fared richly, and the household jogged along some 
 how, but on Friday morning Dr. Maybright sud 
 denly surprised his girls by telling them that 
 unexpected business would call him to London im 
 mediately. He could not possibly return before 
 Monday, but he would get a certain Dr. Strong to 
 see after his patients, and would start for town by 
 the mid-day train. 
 
 The Doctor's portmanteau was quickly packed, 
 and in what seemed a moment of time after the 
 receipt of the letter he had kissed his family and 
 bidden them good-bye. Then her four younger 
 sisters and the boys came round Polly with a daring 
 suggestion. 
 
 w t-et's sit up late, to-night, and have a real, jolly
 
 SO POLLY. 
 
 supper," they begged. " Let's have it at nine o'clock, 
 up in the large garret over the front of the house ; 
 let it be a big supper, all kinds of good things ; 
 ginger- beer and the rest, and let's invite some people 
 to come and eat it with us. Do, Poll do, Poll 
 darling." 
 
 "But," said Polly she was dazzled by this 
 glorious prospect " I haven't got a great deal of 
 money," she said, " and Nurse will be very angry, 
 and Helen won't like it. For you know, children, 
 you two boys and Firefly, you are never allowed to 
 sit up as late as nine o'clock." 
 
 " But for once, Poll Parrot," exclaimed the three 
 victims ; " just for once. We are sure father would 
 not care, and we can coax Nell to consent, and 
 Nurse, as to Nurse, she thinks of no one but baby ; 
 we won't choose the garret over baby. Do, do, do 
 say ' yes,' darling Poll." 
 
 " The dearest cook in all the world ! " exclaimed 
 Bunny, tossing his cap in the air. 
 
 " The queen of cake-makers," said Bob, turning 
 head over heels. 
 
 "The darlingest princess of all housekeepers," 
 echoed Firefly, leaping on her sister, and half-strang 
 ling her with a fierce embrace. 
 
 " And we'll all subscribe," said the twins. 
 
 "And it will really be delightfully romantic; 
 something to remember when you aren't house 
 keeper," concluded Katie. 
 
 " I'd like it awfully," said Polly, " I don't pretend 
 that I wouldn't, and I've just found such a recipe 
 for whipped cream. Do you know, girls, I shouldn't 
 be a bit surprised I really shouldn't if I turned 
 out some meringues made all by myself for supper. 
 The only drawback is the money, for Mrs. White 
 does charge a lot for cream, and I don't mind owning
 
 itt THE ATTIC. 81 
 
 to you all, now that you are nice and sympathetic, 
 that the reason you had only potatoes for dinner on 
 Monday that was because Maggie and I met with a 
 misfortune ; it was a money trouble," continued 
 Polly, with an important air, " and of course children 
 like you cannot understand what money troubles 
 mean. They are wearing, very, and Maggie says 
 she thinks I'm beginning to show some crow's feet 
 round my eyes on account of them. But never 
 mind, I'm not going to cast the shadows of money 
 troubles on you all, and this thing is not to be spoken 
 of, only it makes me very short now." 
 
 "But we'll help you, Poll," said all the eager 
 voices. "Let's fetch our purses and see what we 
 can spare." 
 
 In a twinkling many odd receptacles for holding 
 money made an appearance, and the children between 
 them found they could muster the noble sum of six 
 shillings. All this was handed to Polly, who said, 
 after profound deliberation, that she thought she 
 could make it go furthest and make most show in 
 the purchase of cream and ginger -beer. 
 
 " I'll scrape the rest together, somehow," she 
 said, in conclusion, " and Maggie will help me fine. 
 Maggie's a real brick now, and her brains are growing 
 beautifully." 
 
 But there was another point to be decided Who 
 were to be invited to partake of the supper, and 
 was Nurse to be told, and was Helen to be con 
 sulted ? 
 
 Certainly Polly would not have ventured to carry 
 out so daring a scheme without Helen's consent 
 and co-operation, if it had not happened that she 
 was away for the day. She had taken the opportu 
 nity to drive into the nearest town five miles away 
 with her father, and had arranged to spend the day
 
 82 POLLY. 
 
 there, purchasing several necessary things, and 
 calling on one or two friends. 
 
 " And it will be much too late to tell Nell when 
 she comes back," voted all the children. " If she 
 makes a fuss then, and refuses to join, she will 
 spoil everything. We are bound too, to obey Helen, 
 so we had much better not give her the chance of 
 saying 'no.' Let us pretend to go to bed at our 
 usual hour, and say nothing to either Nurse or 
 Helen. We can tell them to-morrow if we like, 
 and they can only scold us. Yes, that is the only 
 thing to do, for it would never, never do to have 
 such a jolly plan spoilt." 
 
 A unanimous vote was therefore carried that the 
 supper in the garret was to be absolutely secret and 
 confidential, and, naughty as this plan of carrying 
 out their pleasure was, it must be owned that it 
 largely enhanced the fun. The next point to con 
 sider was, who were to be the invited guests ? There 
 were no boys and girls of the children's own class in 
 life within an easy distance. 
 
 "Therefore there is no one to ask,'* exclaimed 
 Katie, in her shortest and most objectionable 
 manner. 
 
 But here Firefly electrified her family by quoting 
 Scripture. 
 
 " When thou makest a supper," she began. 
 
 All the others rose in a body and fell upon her. 
 
 But she had started a happy idea, and in conse 
 quence, Mrs. Ricketts' youngest son and daughter, 
 and the three very naughty and disreputable sons of 
 Mrs. Jones, the laundress, were invited to partake of 
 the coming feast. 
 
 The rest of the day passed to all appearance very 
 soberly. Helen was away. The Doctor's carriage 
 neither came nor went; the Doctor himself, with
 
 IN THE ATTIC. 83 
 
 his kindly voice, and his somewhat brusque, deter- 
 mined manner, awoke no echoes in the old house. 
 Nurse was far away in the nursery wing, with the 
 pretty, brown-eyed baby and the children ; all the 
 girls and the little boys were remarkably good. 
 
 To those who are well acquainted with the habits 
 and ways of young folks, too much goodness is 
 generally a suspicious circumstance. There is a 
 demure look, there is an instant obedience, there is 
 an absence of fretfulness, and an abnormal, although 
 subdued, cheerfulness, which arouses the watchful 
 gaze of the knowing amongst mothers, governesses, 
 and nurses. 
 
 Had Nurse been at dinner that day she might 
 have been warned of coming events by Bunny's ex 
 cellent behavior ; by Bob's rigid refusal to partake 
 twice of an unwholesome compound, which went by 
 the name of iced pudding ; by Firefly's anxiety to 
 be all that a good and proper little girl should be. 
 But Nurse, of course, had nothing to say to the 
 family dinner. Helen was away, the Doctor was 
 nearing the metropolis, and the little boys' daily 
 governess was not dining with the family. 
 
 These good children had no one to suspect them, 
 and all went smoothly ; in short, the wheels of the 
 house machinery never seemed more admirably 
 oiled. 
 
 True, had any one listened very closely there might 
 have been heard the stealthy sound of shoeless feet 
 ascending the rickety step-ladder which led to the 
 large front garret. Shoeless feet going up and down 
 many, many times. Trays, too, of precious crockery 
 were carried up, baskets piled with evergreens and 
 flowers were conveyed thither, the linen cupboard 
 was ruthlessly rifled for snowy tablecloths and table- 
 napkins of all descriptions. Then later ill the day a
 
 84 POLLY. 
 
 certain savory smell might have heen perceived by 
 any very suspicious person just along this special 
 passage and up that dusty old ladder. For hot bread 
 and hot pastry and hot cakes were being conveyed 
 to the attic, and the sober twins themselves fetched 
 the cream from the farm, and the ginger-beer from 
 the grocer's. 
 
 No one was about, however, to suspect, or to tell 
 tales if they did suspect. 
 
 Helen came home about seven o'clock, rather tired, 
 and very much interested in her purchases, to find a 
 cosy tea awaiting her, and Polly anxious to serve 
 her. The twin girls were supposed to be learning 
 their lessons in the school-room, Katie was nowhere 
 to be seen, and Helen remarked casually that she 
 supposed the young ones had gone to bed. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Polly, hi her quickest manner. 
 
 She turned her back as she spoke, and the blush 
 which mantled her brown face was partly hidden by 
 her curly dark hair. 
 
 " I am very hungry," said Helen. " Really, Polly, 
 you are turning out an excellent housekeeper what 
 a nice tea you have prepared for me. How delicious 
 these hot cakes are ! I never thought, Poll, you 
 would make such a good cook and manager, and to 
 think of your giving us such delicious meals on so 
 little money. But you are eating nothing yourself, 
 love, and how hot your cheeks are ! " 
 
 " Cooking is hot work, and takes away the appe 
 tite," said Polly. 
 
 She was listening in agony that moment, for over 
 Helen's head certain stealthy steps were creeping ; 
 they were the steps of children, leaving their snug 
 beds, and gliding as quietly as possible in the direc 
 tion of the savory smells and the dusty ladder and 
 the large dirty, spidery but oh, how romantic, how
 
 IN THE ATTIC. 85 
 
 fascinating front attic. Never before did Polly 
 realize how many creaky boards there were in the 
 house ; oh, surely Helen would observe those steps ; 
 but, no, she cracked her egg tranquilly, and sipped 
 her tea, and talked in her pleasantest way of Polly's 
 excellent cooking, and of her day's adventures. 
 
 Time was going on ; it would soon be eight o'clock. 
 Oh, horrors, why would the Rickettses and Mrs. 
 Jones's three boys choose the path through the 
 shrubbery to approach the house ! The morning- 
 room, where Helen was taking her tea, looked out 
 on the shrubbery, and although it was now quite 
 dark in the world of nature, those dreadful rough 
 boys would crack boughs, and stumble and titter as 
 they walked. Polly's face grew hotter and her hands 
 colder ; never did she bless her sister's rather slow 
 and unsuspicious nature more than at this moment, 
 for Helen heard no boughs crack, nor did the 
 stealthy, smothered laughter, so distinctly audible 
 to poor Polly, reach her ears. 
 
 At ten minutes to eight Helen rose from the table. 
 
 " I'm going up to Nurse to show her what things 
 I have bought for baby," she said. " We are going 
 to short-coat baby next week, so I have a good deal 
 to show her, and I won't be down again for a little 
 bit." 
 
 " All right," said Polly, " I have plenty to do ; 
 don't worry about me till you see me, Nell." 
 
 She danced out of the room, and in excellent 
 spirits joined a large and boisterous party in the 
 front attic. Now, she assured her family and her 
 guests, all would go well ; they were safely housed 
 in a distant and unused part of the establishment, 
 and might be as merry and as noisy as they pleased ; 
 no one would hear them, no one would miss them, 
 no one would suspect them.
 
 And all might have gone according to Polly's 
 gramme, and to this day that glorious feast in tha 
 attic might have remained a secret in the private 
 annals of the house of Maybright, but for that un 
 toward thing which I am about to tell. 
 
 At that very moment while the Maybrights, the 
 Ricketteses, and the Joneses were having delightful 
 and perfectly untrammeled intercourse with each 
 other, a very fidgety old lady was approaching the 
 Hollow, being carefully conducted thither in a 
 rickety fly. A large traveling trunk was on the 
 box-seat of the fly, and inside were two or three 
 bandboxes, a couple of baskets, a strap bursting 
 with railway rugs, cloaks, and umbrellas, and last, 
 but not least, a snarling little toy-terrier, who 
 barked and whined and jumped about, and licked 
 his mistress's hand. 
 
 " Down, Scorpion," exclaimed Mrs. Cameron ; 
 "behave yourself, sir. You really become more 
 vicious every day. Get in that corner, and don't 
 stir till I give you leave. Now, then, driver," open 
 ing the window and poking her head out, " when 
 are we getting to Sleepy Hollow ? Oh ! never, 
 never ha 7 3 I found myself in a more outlandish 
 place." 
 
 "We be a matter of two miles from there, 
 ma'am," said the man. "You set easy, and keep 
 yourself quiet, for the beast won't go no faster." 
 
 ivlrs. Cameron subsided again into the depths of 
 the musty old fly with a groan. 
 
 " Outlandish most outlandish ! " she remarked 
 again. " Scorpion, you may sit in my lap if you like 
 to behave yourself, sir. Well, well, duty calls me 
 into many queer quarters. Scorpion, if you go no 
 snarling and growling I shall slap you smartly. 
 Yes, poor Helen; I never showed my love for her
 
 AUNT MARIA. 87 
 
 more than when I undertook this journey : never, 
 never. Oh ! how desolate that great moor does 
 look ; I trust there are no robbers about. It's per 
 fectly awful to be in a solitary cab, with anything 
 but a civil driver, alone on these great moors. 
 Well, well, how could Helen marry a man like Dr. 
 May bright, and come to live here ? He must be the 
 oddest person, to judge from the letter he wrote me. 
 I saw at once there was nothing for me but to make 
 the stupendous effort of coming to see after things 
 myself. Poor dear Helen ! she was a good creature, 
 very handsome, quite thrown away upon that 
 doctor. I was fond of her ; she was like a child to 
 me long ago. It is my duty to do what I can for 
 her orphans. Now, Scorpion, what is the matter ? 
 You are quite one of the most vicious little dogs I 
 have ever met. Oh, do be quiet, sir." 
 
 But at that moment the fly drew up with a jolt. 
 The driver deliberately descended from his seat, and 
 opened the door, whereupon Scorpion, with a snarl 
 and bound, disappeared into the darkness. 
 
 " He's after a cat," remarked the man, laconically. 
 " This be the Hollow, ma'am, if you'll have the good 
 ness to get out." 
 
 " Sleepy Hollow," remarked Mrs. Cameron to her 
 self, as she steadily descended. " Truly I should 
 think so ; but I am much mistaken if I don't wake 
 it up." 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AUNT MARIA. 
 
 " EF you please, Miss Helen," said Alice, the neat 
 housemaid, putting in her head at the nursery door, 
 " there's a lady downstairs, and a heap of luggage,
 
 88 POLLY. 
 
 and the nastiest little dog I ever saw. He has 
 almost killed the Persian kitten, Miss, and he is 
 snarling and snapping at every one. See, he took 
 this bit out of my apron, Miss. The old lady says 
 as her name is Mrs. Cameron, and she has come to 
 stay ; and she'd be glad if you'd go down to her im 
 mediately, Miss Helen." 
 
 " Aunt Maria ! " said Helen, in an aghast voice. 
 Aunt Maria absolutely come and father away ! 
 Nursie, I must fly down you will understand about 
 those flannels. Oh ! I am sorry Aunt Maria has 
 come. What will Polly say ? " 
 
 Helen felt a curious sinking at her heart as she 
 descended the stairs ; but she was a very polite and 
 well-mannered girl, and when she went up to Mrs. 
 Cameron she said some pretty words of welcome, 
 which were really not overdone. Mrs. Cameron was 
 a short, stout person ; she always wore black, and 
 her black was always rusty. She stood now in the 
 middle of the drawing-room, holding Scorpion in her 
 arms, with her bonnet-strings untied, and her full, 
 round face somewhat flushed. 
 
 " No, my dear, you are not particularly glad to 
 see me," she said, in answer to Helen's gentle digni 
 fied greeting. " I don't expect it, child, nor look for 
 it ; and you need not waste untruths upon me, for 
 I always see through them. You are not glad to 
 see me, and I am not surprised, for I assure you I 
 intend to make myself disagreeable. Helen, your 
 father is a perfect fool. Now, my dear, you need 
 not fire up ; you would say so if you were as old as 
 me, and had received as idiotic an epistle from 
 him," 
 
 " But I am not as old as you, and he is my 
 father," said Helen, steadily. "I don't tell un 
 truths, Aunt Maria, and I am glad to see you be-
 
 AUNT MARIA. 89 
 
 cause because you were fond of mother. Will you 
 come into the dining-room now, and let me get you 
 some tea ? " 
 
 Helen's lips were quivering, and her dark blue 
 eyes were slightly lowered, so that Aunt Maria 
 should not notice the tears that filled them. The 
 old lady, however, had noticed these signs of emo 
 tion, and brave words always pleased her. 
 
 " You aren't a patch on your mother, child," she 
 said. " But you remind me of her. Yes, take me 
 to my room first, and then get me a good substan 
 tial meal, for I can tell you I am starving." 
 
 Helen rang the bell. 
 
 " Alice," she said to the parlor-maid, who speedily 
 answered the summons, "will you get the Rose 
 room ready as quickly as possible ? My aunt, Mrs. 
 Cameron, will stay here for the night. And please 
 lay supper in the dining-room. Tell Mrs. Power 
 oh, I forgot see and get as nice a supper as you 
 can, Alice. You had better speak to Miss Polly." 
 
 "Yes, Miss," said Alice. Then she paused, 
 hesitated, colored slightly, and said, in a dubious 
 manner, "Is it the Rose room you mean, Miss 
 Helen ? That's the room Miss Polly is getting 
 ready for Miss Virginy, and there ain't no curtains 
 to the window nor to the bed at present." 
 
 " Then I won't sleep in that bed," said Mrs. 
 Cameron. "I must have a four-poster with cur 
 tains all round, and plenty of dark drapery to the 
 windows. My eyes are weak, and I don't intend to 
 have them injured with the cold morning light off 
 the moor. 
 
 " Oh, Aunt Maria, the mornings aren't very light 
 now," answered Helen. " They are " 
 
 But Mrs. Cameron interrupted her. 
 
 Don't talk nonsense, child. In a decent place
 
 90 POLLY. 
 
 like Bath I own the day may break gradually, but 
 I expect everything contrary to civilized existence 
 here. The very thought of those awful commons 
 makes me shiver. Now, have you, or have you not, 
 a four-poster, in which I can sleep ? " 
 
 Helen smothered a slight sigh. She turned once 
 again to Alice. 
 
 " Will you get my father's room ready for Mrs. 
 Cameron," she said, " and then see about supper as 
 quickly as possible? Father is away for a few 
 days," she added, turning to the good lady. " Please 
 will you come up to Polly's and my room now to 
 take off your things ? " 
 
 " And where is Polly ? " said Mrs. Cameron. 
 " And why doesn't she come to speak to her aunt ? 
 There's Kate, too, she must be a well-grown girl by 
 now, and scarcely gone to bed yet. The rest of the 
 family are, I presume, asleep ; that is, if there's a 
 grain of sense left in the household." 
 
 " Yes, most of the children are in bed," replied 
 Helen. " You will see Polly and Katie, and per 
 haps the twins, later on, but first of all I want to 
 make you comfortable. You must be very tired ; 
 you have had a long journey." 
 
 " I'm beat out, child, and that's the truth. Here, 
 I'll lay Scorpion down in the middle of your bed ; 
 he has been a great worry to me all day, and he 
 wants his sleep. He likes to get between the sheets, 
 so if you don't mind I'll open the bed and let him 
 slip down." 
 
 " If you want me to be truthful, I do mind very 
 much," said Helen. " Oh, you are putting him into 
 Polly's bed. Well, I suppose he must stay there for 
 the present." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron was never considered an unamiable 
 person ; she was well spoken of by her friends and
 
 MARIA. 91 
 
 relations, for she was rich, and gave away a great 
 deal of money to various charities and benevolent 
 institutions. But if ever any one expected her to 
 depart in the smallest particular from her own way 
 they were vastly mistaken. Whatever her goal, 
 whatever her faintest desire, she rode roughshod 
 over all prejudices until she obtained it. Therefore 
 it was that, notwithstanding poor Helen's protest, 
 Scorpion curled down comfortably between Polly's 
 sheets, and Mrs. Cameron, well pleased at having 
 won her point, went down to supper. 
 
 Alas, and alas ! the supper provided for the good 
 lady was severe in its simplicity. Alice, blushing 
 and uncomfortable, called Helen out of the room, 
 and then informed her that neither Polly nor Maggie 
 could be found, and that there was literally nothing, 
 or next to nothing, in the larder. 
 
 " But that can't be the case," said Helen, " for 
 there was a large piece of cold roast beef brought 
 up for my tea, and a great plate of hot cakes, and 
 an uncut plum-cake. Surely, Alice, you must be 
 mistaken." 
 
 "No, Miss, there's nothing downstairs. Not a 
 joint, nor a cake, nor nothing. If it wasn't that I 
 found some new-laid eggs in the hen-house, and cut 
 some slices from the uncooked ham, I couldn't have 
 had nothing at all for supper and and " 
 
 '- Tut, tut ! " suddenly exclaimed a voice in the 
 dining-room. " What's all this whispering about ? 
 It is very rude of little girls to whisper outside 
 doors, and not to attend to their aunts when they 
 come a long way to see them. If you don't come 
 in at once, Miss Helen, and give me my tea, I shall 
 help myself." 
 
 " Find Polly, then, as quick as you can, Alice," 
 exclaimed poor, perplexed Helen, "and tell her
 
 92 POLLY. 
 
 that Aunt Maria Cameron has come and is going to 
 stay." 
 
 Alice went away, and Helen, returning to the 
 dining-room, poured out tea, and cut bread-and- 
 butter, and saw her aunt demolishing with appetite 
 three new-laid eggs, and two generous slices of fried 
 ham. 
 
 " Your meal was plain ; but I am satisfied with 
 it," she said in conclusion. " I am glad you live 
 frugally, Helen ; waste is always sinful, and in your 
 case peculiarly so. You don't mind my telling you, 
 my dear, that I think it is a sad extravagance wear 
 ing crape every day, but of course you don't know 
 any better. You are nothing in the world but an 
 overgrown child. Now that I have come, my dear, 
 I shall put this and many other matters to rights. 
 Tell me, Helen, how long does your father intend 
 to be away ? " 
 
 " Until Monday, I think, Aunt Maria." 
 
 " Very well ; then you and I will begin our re 
 forms to-morrow. I'll take you round with me, and 
 we'll look into everything. Your father won't know 
 the house when he comes back. I've got a treasure 
 of a woman in my eye for him a Miss Grinsted. 
 She is fifty, and a strict disciplinarian. She will 
 soon manage matters, and put this house into some 
 thing like order. I had a great mind to bring her 
 with me ; but I can send for her. She can 'be here 
 by Monday or Tuesday. I told her to be hi readi 
 ness, and to have her boxes packed. My dear, I 
 wish you would not poke out your chin so much. 
 How old are you ? Oh, sixteen a very gawky age 
 Now then, that I am refreshed and rested, I think 
 that we'll just go round the house." 
 
 ** Will you not wait until to-morrow, Aunt Maria ? 

 
 AUNT MARIA. 93 
 
 The children are all asleep and in bed now, and 
 Nurse never likes them to be disturbed." 
 
 " My dear, Nurse's likes or dislikes are not of the 
 smallest importance to me. I wish to see the chil 
 dren asleep, so if yon will have the goodness to light 
 a candle, Helen, and lead the way, I will follow." 
 
 Helen again stifling a sigh, obeyed. She felt full 
 of trepidation and uneasiness. Why did not Polly 
 come in? Why had all the supper disappeared? 
 Where were Katie and the twins ? How strangely 
 silent the house was. 
 
 " I will see the baby first," said Mrs. Cameron. 
 " In bed ? Well, no matter, I wish to look at the 
 little dear. Ah, this is the nursery ; a nice, cheer 
 ful room, but too much light in it, and no curtains 
 to the windows. Very bad for the dear baby's eyes. 
 How do you do, Nurse ? I have come to see baby. 
 I am her aunt, her dear mother's sister, Maria Cam 
 eron." 
 
 Nurse curtseyed. 
 
 " Baby is asleep, ma'am," she said. "I have just 
 settled her in her little crib for the night. She's a 
 good, healthy child, and no trouble to any one. Yes, 
 ma'am, she has a look of her dear blessed ma. I'll 
 just hold down the sheet, and you'll see. Please, 
 ma'am, don't hold the light full in the babe's eyes, 
 you'll wake her." 
 
 " My good woman, I handled babies before you 
 did. I had this child's mother in my arms when she 
 was a baby. Yes, the infant is well enough ; you're 
 mistaken in there being any likeness to your late 
 mistress in her. She seems a plain child, but healthy. 
 If you don't watch her sight, she may get delicate 
 eyes, however. I should recommend curtains being 
 put up immediately to these windows, and your 
 only using night-lights when she sleeps. It is not
 
 94r POLLY. 
 
 I that am likely to injure the baby with too much 
 light. Good evening, Nurse." 
 
 Nurse muttered something, her brow growing 
 black. 
 
 " Now, Helen," continued Mrs. Cameron, " we will 
 visit the other children. This is the boys' room, I 
 presume. I am fond of boys. What are your 
 brothers' names, my dear ? " 
 
 " We call them Bob and Bunny." 
 
 "Utterly ridiculous! I ask for their baptismal 
 names, not for anything so silly. Ah! oh I 
 thought you said they were in bed : these beds are 
 empty." 
 
 So they were ; tossed about, no doubt, but with no 
 occupants, and the bed-clothes no longer warm ; so 
 that it could not have been quite lately that the 
 truants had departed from their nightly places of 
 rest. On further investigation, Firefly's bed was 
 also found in a sad state of deshabille and it was 
 clearly proved, on visiting their apartments, that 
 the twins and Katie had not gone to bed at all. 
 
 ".Then, my dear, where are the family ?" said 
 Mrs. Cameron. " You and that little babe are the 
 only ones I have yet seen. Where is Mary ? where 
 is Katharine ? Where are your brothers ? My dear 
 Helen, this is awful ; your brothers and sisters are 
 evidently playing midnight pranks. Oh, there is not 
 a doubt of it, you need not tell me. What a good 
 thing it is that I came ! Oh ! my poor dear sister ; 
 what a state her orphans have been reduced to I 
 There is nothing whatever for it but to telegraph 
 for Miss Grinsted in the morning. 
 
 " But, my dear auntie, I am sure, oh ! I am sure 
 you are mistaken," began poor Helen. " The chil 
 dren are always very well behaved they are, indeed 
 they are. They don't play pranks, Aunt Maria."
 
 AUNT MARIA. 95 
 
 " Allow me to use my own eyesight, Helen. The 
 beds are empty not a child is to be found. Come, 
 we must search the house ! " 
 
 Helen never to her dying day forgot that eerie 
 journey through the deserted house, accompanied by 
 Aunt Maria. She never forgot the sickening fear 
 which oppressed her, and the certainty which came 
 over her that Polly, poor, excitable Polly, was up to 
 some mischief. 
 
 Sleepy Hollow was a large and rambling old 
 place, and it was some time before the searchers 
 reached the neighborhood of the festive garret. 
 When they did, however, there was no longer any 
 room for doubt. Wild laughter, and high-pitched 
 voices singing many favorite nursery airs and school 
 room songs, made noise enough to reach the ears 
 even of the deafest. " John Peel " was having a 
 frantic chorus as Helen and her aunt ascended the 
 step-ladder. 
 
 " For the sound of his horn brought me from my bed, 
 And the cry of his hounds which he ofttimes led, 
 Peel's ' View Hulloo ! ' would awaken the dead, 
 Or the fox from his lair in the morning." 
 
 " Very nice, indeed," said Aunt Maria, as she burst 
 open the garret door. Very nice and respectful to 
 the memory of your dear mother ! I am glad, chil 
 dren, that I have come to create decent order in this 
 establishment. I am your aunt, Maria Cameron."
 
 96 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PUNISHMENT. 
 
 THERE are occasions when people who are accused 
 wrongfully of a fault will take it patiently : there was 
 scarcely ever known to be a time when wrong-doers 
 did so. 
 
 The, children in the garret were having a wild time 
 of mirth and excitement. There was no time for any 
 one to think, no time for any one to do aught but 
 enjoy. The lateness of the hour, the stealthy gather 
 ing, the excellent supper, and, finally, the gay songs, 
 had roused the young spirits to the highest pitch. 
 Polly was the life of everything ; Maggie, her de 
 voted satellite, had a face which almost blazed with 
 excitement. 
 
 Her small eyes twinkled like stars, her broad 
 mouth never ceased to show a double row of snowy 
 teeth. She revolved round her brothers and sisters, 
 whispering in their ears, violently nudging them, 
 and piling on the agony in the shape of cups of 
 richly creamed and sugared tea, of thick slices of 
 bread-and-butter and jam, and plum cake, topped 
 with bumpers of foaming ginger-beer. 
 
 Repletion had reached such a pass in the case of 
 the Ricketts brother and sister that they could 
 scarcely move ; the Jones brothers were also be 
 coming slightly heavy-eyed ; but the Maybright 
 children fluttered about here and there like gay 
 butterflies, and were on the point of getting up a 
 dance when Aunt Maria and the frightened Helen 
 burst upon the scene.
 
 PUNISHMENT. 9\ 
 
 It required a much less acute glance than Aunt 
 Maria's to point out Polly as the ringleader. She 
 headed the group of mirth-seekers, every lip re 
 sounded with her name, all the other pairs of young 
 eyes turned to her. When the garret-door was 
 flung open, and Aunt Maria in no measured tones 
 announced herself, the children flew like frightened 
 chickens to hide under Polly's wing. The Rick- 
 ettses and Joneses scrambled to their feet, and ran 
 to find shelter as close as possible to headquarters. 
 Thus, when Polly at last found her voice, and turned, 
 round to speak to Aunt Maria, she looked like the 
 flushed and triumphant leader of a little victorious 
 garrison. She was quite carried away by the excite 
 ment of the whole thing, and defiance spoke both in 
 her eyes and manner. 
 
 " How do you do, Aunt Maria ? " she said. " We 
 did not expect you. We were having supper, and 
 have just finished. I would ask you to have some 
 with us, only I am afraid there is not a clean plate 
 left. Is there, Maggie ? " 
 
 Maggie answered with a high and nervous giggle, 
 " Oh, lor', Miss Polly ! that there ain't ; and there's 
 nothing but broken victuals either on the table by 
 now. We was all hungry, you know, Miss Polly." 
 
 " So perhaps," continued Polly; " you would go 
 down-stairs again, Aunt Maria. Helen, will you take 
 Aunt Maria to the drawing-room ? I will come as 
 soon as I see the supper things put away. Helen, 
 why do you look at me like that ? What's the 
 matter?" 
 
 " Oh, Polly ! " said Helen, in her most reproachful 
 tones. 
 
 She was turning away, but Aunt Maria caught 
 her rather roughly by the shoulder. 
 
 "Do all this numerous party belong to the
 
 9$ POLLY. 
 
 family?" she said. "I see here present thirteen 
 children. I never knew before that my sister had 
 such an enormous family." 
 
 Helen felt in far too great a state of collapse to 
 make any reply ; but Polly's saucy, glib tones were 
 again heard. 
 
 " These are our visitors, Aunt Maria. Allow me 
 to introduce them. Master and Miss Ricketts, 
 Masters Tom, Jim, and Peter Jones. This is Maggie, 
 my satellite, and devoted friend, and and 
 
 But Aunt Maria's patience had reached its tether. 
 She was a stout, heavily-made woman, and when 
 she walked into the center of Polly's garrison she 
 quickly dispersed it. 
 
 " March ! " she said, laying her hand heavily on 
 the girl's shoulder. "To your room this instant. 
 Come, I shall see you there, and lock you in. You 
 are a very bad, wicked, heartless girl, and I am 
 bitterly ashamed of you. To your room this minute. 
 While your father is away you are under my 
 control, and I insist on being obeyed." 
 
 " Oh, lor ! " gasped Maggie. " Run," she whispered 
 to her brother and sister. "Make for the door, 
 quick. Oh, ain't it awful ! Oh, poor dear Miss 
 Polly ! Why, that dreadful old lady will almost 
 kill her." 
 
 But no, Polly was still equal to the emergency. 
 
 " You need not hold me, Aunt Maria," she said, 
 in a quiet voice, " I can go without that. Good 
 night, children. I am sorry our jolly time has had 
 such an unpleasant ending. Now then, I'll go with 
 you, Aunt Maria." 
 
 " In front, then," said Aunt Maria. " No loitering 
 behind. Straight to your room." 
 
 Polly walked down tne dusty ladder obediently 
 enough ; Aunt Maria, scarlet in the face, stumped
 
 PUNISHMENT. 99 
 
 and waddled after her ; Helen, very pale, and feeling 
 half terrified, brought up the rear. All went well, 
 and the truant exhibited no signs of rebellion until 
 they reached the wide landing which led in one 
 direction to the girl's bedroom, in the other to the 
 staircase. 
 
 Here Polly turned at bay. 
 
 " I'm not going to my room at present," she said. 
 " If I've been naughty, father can punish me when 
 he comes home. You can tell anything you like to 
 father when he comes back on Monday. But I'm 
 not going to obey you. You have no authority 
 over me, and I'm not responsible to you. Father 
 can punish me as much as he likes when you have 
 told him. I'm going down-stairs, now ; it's too 
 early for bed. I've not an idea of obeying you." 
 
 " We will see to that," said Aunt Maria. " You 
 are quite the naughtiest child I ever came across. 
 Now then, Miss, if you don't go patiently, and on 
 your own feet, you shall be conveyed to your room 
 in my arms. I am quite strong enough, so you can 
 choose." 
 
 Polly's eyes flashed. 
 
 " If you put it in that way, I don't want to fuss," 
 she said. " I'll go there for the present, but you 
 can't keep me there, and you needn't try." 
 
 Aunt Maria and Polly disappeared round the 
 corner, and poor Helen stood leaning against the 
 oak balustrade, silently crying. In three or four 
 minutes Aunt Maria returned, her face still red, 
 and the key of the bedroom in her pocket. 
 
 "Now, Helen, what is the matter? Crying? 
 Well, no wonder. Of course, you are ashamed of 
 your sister. I never met such a naughty, impertinent 
 girl. Can it be possible that Helen should have 
 such a child? She must take entirely after her
 
 100 POLLY. 
 
 father. Now, Helen, stop crying, tears are most 
 irritating to me, and do no good to any one. I am 
 glad I arrived at this emergency. Matters have 
 indeed come to a pretty crisis. In your father's 
 absence, I distinctly declare that I take the rule of 
 my poor sister's orphans, and I shall myself mete 
 out the punishment for the glaring act of rebellion 
 that I have just witnessed. Polly remains in her 
 room, and has a bread and water diet until Monday. 
 The other children have bread and water for break 
 fast in the morning, and go to bed two hours before 
 their usual time to-morrow. The kitchenmaid I 
 shall dismiss in the morning, giving her a month's 
 wages hi lieu of notice. Now, Helen, come down 
 stairs. Oh, there is just one thing more. You 
 must find some other room to sleep in to-night. I 
 forbid you to go near your sister. In fact, I shall 
 not give you the key. You may share my bed, if 
 you like." 
 
 " I cannot do that, Aunt Maria," said Helen. " I 
 respect you, and will obey you as far as I can until 
 father returns, and tells us what we really ought to 
 do. But I cannot stay away from Polly to-night 
 for any one. I know she has been very naughty. 
 I am as shocked as you can be with all that has 
 happened, but I know too, Aunt Maria, that harsh 
 treatment will ruin Polly ; she won't stand it, she 
 never would, and mother never tried it with her. 
 She is different from the rest of us, Aunt Maria ; 
 she is wilder, and fiercer, and freer ; but mother 
 often said, oh, often and often, that no one might 
 be nobler than Polly, if only she was guided right. 
 I know she is troublesome, I know she was impert 
 inent to you, and I know well she did very wrong, 
 but she is only fourteen, and she has high spirits. 
 You can't bend, nor drive Polly, Aunt Maria, but
 
 PUNISHMENT. 101 
 
 gentleness and love can always lead her. I must 
 sleep in my own bed to-night, Aunt Maria. Oh, 
 don't refuse me please give me up the key." 
 
 " You are a queer girl," said Aunt Maria. " But 
 I believe yok are the best of them, and you cer 
 tainly remind me of your mother when you speak 
 in that earnest fashion. Here, take the key, then, 
 but be sure you lock the door when you go in, and 
 when you come out again in the morning. I trust 
 to you that that little wild, impertinent sister of 
 yours doesn't escape now, remember." 
 
 " While I am there she will not," answered Helen. 
 " Thank you, auntie. You look very tired yourself, 
 won't you go to bed now ? " 
 
 " I will, child. I'm fairly beat out. Such a scene 
 is enough to disturb the strongest nerves. Only 
 what about the other children? Are they still 
 carousing in that wicked way in the garret ? " 
 
 " No, I am sure they have gone to bed, thoroughly 
 ashamed of themselves. But I will go and see to 
 them." 
 
 " One thing more, child. Before I go to bed I 
 should like to fill in a telegraph form to Miss Grin- 
 sted. If she gets it the first thing in the morning 
 she can reach here to-morrow night. Well, Helen, 
 again objecting ; you evidently mean to cross me in 
 everything,' now what is the matter? Why has 
 your face such a piteous look upon it ? " 
 
 " Only this, Aunt Maria. Until father returns I 
 am quite willing to obey you, and I will do my best 
 to make the others good and obedient. But I do 
 think he would be vexed at your getting Miss 
 Grinsted until you have spoken to him. Won't 
 you wait until Monday before you telegraph for 
 her ? " 
 
 " I'll sleep on it, anyhow," replied Mrs. Cameron.
 
 102 
 
 " Good-night, child. You remind me very much of 
 your mother not in appearance, but in the curious 
 way you come round a person, and insist upon hav 
 ing everything done exactly as you like. Now, my 
 dear, good-night. I consider you all the most de 
 moralized household, but I won't be here long before 
 matters are on a very different footing." 
 
 The bedroom door really closed upon Aunt Maria, 
 and Helen drew a long breath. 
 
 Oh, for Monday to arrive ! Oh, for any light to 
 guide the perplexed child in this crisis ! But she had 
 no time to think now. She flew to the garret, to find 
 only the wreck of the feast and one or two candles 
 flickering in their sockets. She put the candles out, 
 and went next to the children's bedrooms. Bob and 
 Bunny, with flushed faces, were lying once more in 
 their cribs, fast asleep. They were dreaming and 
 tossing about, and Nurse stood over them with a 
 perplexed and grave face. 
 
 " This means nightmare, and physic in the morn 
 ing," said the worthy woman. "Now, don't you 
 fret and worry your dear head, Miss Helen, pet. 
 Oh, yes, I know all about it, and it was a naughty 
 thing to do, only children will be children. Your 
 aunt needn't expect that her old crabbed head and 
 ways will fit on young shoulders. You might go 
 to Miss Firefly, though, for a minute, Miss Helen, 
 for she's crying fit to break her heart." 
 
 Helen went off at once. Firefly was a very ex 
 citable and delicate child. She found the little crea 
 ture with her head buried under the clothes, her 
 whole form shaken with sobs. 
 
 " Lucy, darling," said Helen. 
 
 The seldom-used name aroused the weeping child ; 
 she raised her head, and flung two thin arms so tightly 
 round Helen's neck that she felt half strangled.
 
 PUNISHMENT. 103 
 
 " Oh, it's so awful, Nell ; what will she do to poor 
 Polly ! Oh, poor Polly ! Will she half kill her, 
 Nell ? " 
 
 " No, Fly how silly of you to take such an idea 
 into your head. Fly, dear, stop crying at once you 
 know you have all been naughty, and Polly has hurt 
 Aunt Maria, and hurt me, too. You none of you 
 knew Aunt Maria was coming, but I did not think 
 you would play such a trick on me, and when father 
 was away, too." 
 
 " It wasn't Polly's fault," said Firefly, eagerly. 
 " She was tempted, and we were the tempters. We 
 all came round her, and we did coax so hard, and 
 Polly gave way, 'cause she wanted to make us happy. 
 She's a darling, the dearest darling in all the world, 
 and if Aunt Maria hurts her and she dies, I I " 
 
 The little face worked in a paroxysm of grief and 
 agony. 
 
 "Don't, Fly," said Helen. "You are much too 
 tired and excited for me to talk calmly to you to 
 night. You have been naughty, darling, and so has 
 Polly, and real naughtiness is always punished, 
 always, somehow or another. But you need not be 
 afraid that any real harm will happen to Polly. I 
 am going to her in a moment or two, so you need 
 not be in the least anxious. Now fold your hands, 
 Fly, and say ' Our Father.' Say it slowly after me." 
 
 Firefly's sobs had become much less. She now lay 
 quiet, her little chest still heaving, but with her eyes 
 open, and fixed with a pathetic longing on Helen's 
 face. 
 
 "You're nearly as good as mother," she said 
 " And I love you. But Polly always, always must 
 come first. Nell, I'll say ' Our Father,' only not 
 the part about forgiving, for I can't forgive Aunt 
 Maria."
 
 104 POLLY. 
 
 " My dear child, you are talking in a very silly 
 way. Aunt Maria has done nothing but her duty, 
 nothing to make you really angry with her. Now, 
 Fly, it is late, and Polly wants me. Say those dear 
 words, for mother's sake." 
 
 These was no child at Sleepy Hollow who would 
 not have done anything for mother's sake, so the 
 prayer was whispered with some fresh gasps of pain 
 and contrition, and before Helen left the room, little 
 Lucy's pretty dark eyes were closed, and her small, 
 sallow, excitable face was tranquil. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 DB. MAYBBIGHT V6TSUS SCORPION. 
 
 DR. MAYBRIGHT returned to his home on Monday 
 evening in tolerably good spirits. He had gone up 
 to London about a money matter which caused him 
 some anxiety ; his fears were, for the present at least, 
 quite lulled to rest, and he had taken the opportunity 
 of consulting one of the greatest oculists of the day 
 with regard to his eyesight. The verdict was more 
 hopeful than the good Doctor had dared to expect. 
 With care, total blindness might be altogether 
 avoided ; at the worst it would not come for some 
 time. A certain regimen was recommended, over 
 work was forbidden, all great anxiety was to be 
 
 avoided, and then, and then Well, at least the 
 
 blessed light of day might be enjoyed by the 
 Doctor for years to come. 
 
 " But you must not overwork," said the oculist, 
 " and you must not worry. You must read very little, 
 and you must avoid chills : for should a cold attack
 
 DR. MAYBRIGHT VERSUS SCORPION. 105 
 
 your eyes now the consequences would be serious." 
 On the whole this verdict was favorable, and the 
 Doctor returned to Sleepy Hollow with a consider 
 able weight lifted from his mind. As the train bore 
 him homeward through the mellow, ripened country 
 with the autumn colors glorifying the landscape, 
 and a rich sunlight casting a glow over everything, 
 his heart felt peaceful. Even with the better part 
 of him gone away forever, he could look forward 
 with pleasure to the greeting of his children, and 
 find much consolation in the love of their young 
 hearts. 
 
 " After all, there never were girls quite like Helen 
 and Polly," he said to himself. " They both in their 
 own way take after their mother. Helen has got 
 that calm which was always so refreshing and restful 
 in her mother ; and that little scapegrace of a Polly 
 inherits a good deal of her brilliancy. I wonder 
 how the little puss has managed the housekeeping. 
 By the way, her week is up to-day, and we return 
 to Nell's and Mrs. Power's steadier regime. Poor 
 Poll, it was shabby of me to desert the family dur 
 ing the end of Indigestion week, but doubtless 
 matters have gone fairly well. Nurse has all her 
 medicine bottles replenished, so that in case of need 
 she knew what to do. Poor Poll, she really made an 
 excellent cake for my supper the last evening I was 
 at home." 
 
 The carriage rolled down the avenue, and the 
 Doctor alighted on his own door-steps ; as he did so 
 he looked round with a pleased and expectant smile 
 on his face. It was six o'clock, and the evenings 
 were drawing in quickly ; the children might be 
 indoors, but it seemed scarcely probable. The little 
 Maybrights were not addicted to indoor life, and as 
 a rule their gay, shrill voices might have been heard
 
 106 POLLY. 
 
 echoing all over the old place long after sunset. 
 Not so this evening ; the place was almost too still ; 
 there was no rush of eager steps in the hall, and no 
 clamor of gay little voices without. 
 
 Dr. Maybright felt a slight chill ; he could not ac 
 count for it. The carriage turned and rolled away, 
 and he quickly entered the house. 
 
 "Polly, where are you? Nell, Firfly, Bunny," 
 he shouted. 
 
 Still there was no response, unless, indeed, the 
 rustling of a silk dress hi the drawing-room, a some 
 what subdued and half-nervous cough, and the un 
 pleasant yelping of a small dog could have been 
 construed into one. 
 
 "Have my entire family emigrated? And is 
 Sleepy Hollow let to strangers? " murmured the 
 Doctor. 
 
 He turned in the direction of the rustle, the 
 cough, and the bark, and found himself suddenly in 
 the voluminous embrace of his sister-in-law, Mrs. 
 Cameron. 
 
 " My dear Andrew, I am pleased to see you. You 
 have been in the deep waters of affliction, and if in 
 my power I would have come to you sooner. I had 
 rheumatism and a natural antipathy to solitude. 
 Still I made the effort, although a damper or more 
 lonely spot would be hard to find. I don't wonder 
 at my poor sister's demise. I got your letter, An 
 drew, and it was really in reply to it that I am here. 
 Down, Scorpion ; the dog will be all right in a mo 
 ment or two* my dear brother, he is only smelling 
 your trousers." 
 
 " He has a very marked way of doing so," re 
 sponded the Doctor, " as I distinctly feel his teeth. 
 AUow me, Maria, to put this little animal outside 
 window a dog's bite given even in play is not
 
 Dfe. MAYBRIGfiT VE&8V8 SCORPION. 107 
 
 the most desirable acquisition. Well, Maria, your 
 visit astonishes me very much. Welcome to Sleepy 
 Hollow. Did you arrive to-day ? How did you 
 find the children?" 
 
 " I came here on Friday evening, Andrew. The 
 children are as well as such poor neglected lambs 
 could be expected to be." 
 
 Dr. Maybright raised his eyebrows very slightly. 
 
 " I was not aware they were neglected," he said. 
 I am sorry they strike you so. I also have a little 
 natural antipathy to hearing children compared to 
 sheep. But where are they? I have been away 
 for four days, and am in the house five minutes, and 
 not the voice of a child do I hear. Where is 
 Helen where is my pretty Poll ? Don't they know 
 that their father has arrived ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you, Andrew. I have been alone 
 myself for the last two or three hours, but I ordered 
 your tea to be got ready. May I give you some ? 
 Shall we come to the dining-room at once ? Your 
 family were quite well three hours ago, so perhaps 
 you and I may have a quiet meal together before 
 we trouble about them any further. I think I may 
 claim this little indulgence, as only properly re 
 spectful to your wife's sister, Andrew." 
 
 " Yes, Maria, I will have tea with you," said ths, 
 Doctor. The pleased, bright look of anticipation 
 had altogether now left his face ; it was careworn, 
 the brow slightly puckered, and many lines of care 
 and age showed round the lips. 
 
 " I will just go up stairs and wash my hands," 
 said Dr. Maybright. " Then I will join you in the 
 dining-room." 
 
 He ran up the low stairs to his own room ; it was 
 not only full of Aunt Maria's possessions, but was 
 guarded by the faithful Scorpion, who had HOWE,
 
 108 [POLLY. 
 
 there in disgust, and now again attacked the 
 Doctor's legs. 
 
 " There is a limit," he murmured, " and I reach it 
 when I am bitten by this toy-terrier." 
 
 He lifted Scorpion by his neck, and administered 
 one or two short slaps, which sent the pampered 
 little animal yelping under the bed ; then he pro 
 ceeded down the passage hi search of some other 
 room where he might take shelter. 
 
 Alice met him ; her eyes glowed, and the olor 
 in her face deepened. 
 
 " We are all so glad you are back, sir," she said, 
 with an affectionate tone in her voice. " And Miss 
 Helen has got the room over the porch ready, if 
 you'd do with it for a night or two, sir. I've took 
 hot water there, sir, for I saw the carriage coming 
 up the drive." 
 
 "Thank you, Alice; the porch-room will do 
 nicely. By the way, can you tell me where all the 
 children are ? " 
 
 But Alice had disappeared, almost flown down 
 the passage, and the Doctor had an uncomfortable 
 half-suspicion that he heard her sob as she went. 
 
 Dr. May bright, however, was not a fanciful person 
 the children, with the exception of baby, were all 
 probably out. It was certainly rather contrary to 
 their usual custom to be away when his return was 
 expected, still, he argued, consistency in children 
 was the last thing to be expected. He went down 
 stairs, therefore, with an excellent appetite for what 
 ever meal Mrs. Cameron might have provided for 
 him, and once more in tolerably good spirits. 
 
 There are some people who habitually, and from 
 a strong sense of duty, live on the shady side of life. 
 Metaphorically speaking, the sunshine may almost 
 touch the very path on which they are treading, but
 
 DR. MAYBRIGHT VERSUS SCORPION. 109 
 
 they shrink from and avoid it, having a strong 
 preference for the shade, but considering themselves 
 martyrs while they live in it. Mrs. Camercn was 
 one of these people. The circumstances of her life, 
 had elected plenty of sunshine for her ; she had a 
 devoted and excellent husband, an abundant income, 
 and admirable health. It is true she had no chil 
 dren, and it is also true that she had brought her 
 self by careful cultivation to a state of chronic 
 ill -temper. Every one now accepted the fact that 
 Mrs. Cameron neither wished to be happy, nor was 
 happy ; and when the Doctor sat down to tea, and 
 found himself facing her, it was with very somber 
 and disapproving eyes that she regarded him. 
 
 " Well, Andrew, I must say you look remarkably 
 well. Dear, dear, there is no constancy in this 
 world, that is, amongst the male sex." 
 
 Here she handed him a cup of tea, and sighed 
 lugubriously. The Doctor accepted the tea with a 
 slight frown ; he was a peaceable man, but as he 
 said, when chastising Scorpion, " there are limits." 
 
 " If you have no objection, Maria," he said, curtly, 
 We will leave the subject of my personal appear 
 ance and the moral question which you have 
 brought forward out of our conversation." 
 
 Then his voice and manner changed ; he put on a 
 company smile, and continued, without any pause, 
 " How is your husband ? Is he as great an anti 
 quary as ever? And do you both continue to like 
 living in Bath ? " 
 
 Mrs. Cameron was a strong and determined 
 woman, but she was no match for the Doctor when 
 he chose to have his own way. For the remainder 
 of the meal conversation was languid, and decidedly 
 eomtijorplace ; once only it brightened into anima-
 
 HO POLLY. 
 
 "I wonder where Scorpion can be?" said the 
 good lady ; " I want to give him his cream." 
 
 " I fear he is under punishment," said the Doctor. 
 " If I judge of him aright, Scorpion is something of 
 a coward, and is not likely to come into the same 
 room where I am for some time." 
 
 "What do you mean? Surely you have not been 
 cruel to him ? " 
 
 " Cruel to be kind. Once again he attempted to 
 eat my legs, and I was obliged to administer one or 
 two sharp slaps nothing to hurt ; you will find 
 him under your bed. And now I really must go to 
 look for my family." 
 
 Dr. Maybright left the room, and Mrs. Cameron 
 sat still, scarlet with annoyance and indignation. 
 
 " How could Helen have married such a man ? " 
 she said to herself. " I never can get on with him 
 never. How cowardly it was of him to hurt the 
 little dog. If it was not for the memory of poor 
 dear Helen I should leave here by the first train in 
 the morning ; but as it is, I will not stir until I have 
 established Miss Grinsted over this poor, misguided 
 household. Ah, well ! duty is ever hard, but those 
 who know Maria Cameron are well acquainted with 
 the fact that she never shirked it. Yes, I will stay ; 
 it will be very unpleasant, but I must go through it. 
 What very abrupt manners the Doctor has ! I was 
 just preparing to tell him all about that wicked 
 Polly when he jumped up and left the room. Now, 
 of course, he will get a wrong impression of the 
 whole thing, for the other children all take her part. 
 Very bad manners to jump up from the tea-table 
 like that. And where is Helen ? where are they 
 all ? Now that I come to think of it, I have seen 
 nothing of any one of them since the early dinner. 
 Well, well, if it were not for poor Helen I should
 
 DR. MAYBRIGHT VERSUS SCORPION, 
 
 wash my hands of the whole concern. But who 
 ever suffers, dear little Scorpion must have his 
 cream." 
 
 Accordingly Mrs. Cameron slowly ascended the 
 stairs, armed with a saucer and a little jug, and 
 Scorpion forgot the indignities to which he had been 
 subjected as he lapped up his dainty meal. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Doctor having explored the morn- 
 itvg room and the school-rooms, having peeped into 
 the conservatory, and even peered with his rather 
 failing sight into the darkness outside, took two or 
 three strides upstairs, and found himself in the 
 presence of Nurse and baby. 
 
 " Well, Pearl," he said, taking the little pure 
 white baby into his arms, looking into its wee face 
 earnestly, and then giving it a kiss, which was sad, 
 and yet partook of something of the nature of a 
 blessing. 
 
 " Baby goes on well, Nurse," he said, returning 
 the little creature to the kind woman's arms. Then 
 he looked into her face, and his own expression 
 changed. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " he said, abruptly. " You 
 have been crying. Is anything wrong? Where 
 have all the children vanished to ? " 
 
 " You have had your tea, sir ? " said Nurse, her 
 words coming out in jerks, and accompanied by 
 fresh sobs. " You have had your tea, and is partial 
 rested, I hope, so it's but right you should know. 
 The entire family, sir, every blessed one of them, 
 with the exception of the babe, has took upon them 
 selves to run away."
 
 CHAPTER XVH. 
 
 WHEBE ABE THE CHILDBEN ? 
 
 NUBSE'S news astonished the Doctor very much. 
 
 He was not a man, however, to show all he felt 
 He saw that Nurse was on the verge of hysterics, 
 and he knew that if he did not take this startling 
 and unpleasant piece of information in the most 
 matter-of-fact way, he would get nothing out of her. 
 
 " I hope matters are not as bad as you fear," he 
 said. " Sit down in this chair, and tell me what has 
 occurred. Don't hurry yourself; a few moments 
 more or less don't signify. Tell your tale quietly, 
 in your own way." 
 
 Thus administered, Nurse gasped once or twice, 
 looked up at the doctor with eyes which plainly 
 declared " there never was your equal for blessed 
 ness and goodness under the sun," and commenced 
 her story in the long-winded manner of her class. 
 
 The Doctor heard a garbled account of the supper 
 in the attic, of the arrival of Mrs. Cameron, of the 
 prompt measures which that good lady took to crush 
 Polly, of Firefly's grief, of the state of confusion into 
 which the old house was thrown. She then went 
 on to tell him further that Polly, having refused to 
 submit or repent in any way, Mrs. Cameron had in 
 sisted on her remaining in her own room, and had 
 at last, notwithstanding all Helen's entreaties, for 
 bidden her to go near her sister. The housekeep 
 ing keys were taken away from Polly, and Mrs. 
 Cameron had further taken upon herself to dismiss 
 Maggie. She had sent a telegram to Mrs. Power,
 
 WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN ? U3 
 
 who had returned in triumph to Sleepy Hollow on 
 Saturday night. 
 
 "Miserable is no word for what this household 
 has been," said Nurse. " There was Miss Polly 
 naughty she may have been, dear lamb, but vicious 
 she ain't there was Miss Polly shut up in her 
 room, and nobody allowed to go near her ; and Mrs. 
 Cameron poking her nose into this corner and into 
 that, and ordering me about what I was to do with 
 the babe ; and poor Miss Helen following her about, 
 for all the world like a ghost herself, so still and 
 quiet and pitiful-looking, but like a dear angel in 
 her efforts to keep the peace ; and there was Alice 
 giving warning, and fit to fly out of the house with 
 rage, and Mrs. Power coming back, and lording it 
 over us all, more than is proper for a cook to do. 
 Oh, sir, we has been unhappy! and for the first 
 time we really knew what we had lost in our blessed 
 mistress, and for the first time the children, poor 
 darlings, found out what it was to be really mother 
 less. The meals she'd give 'em, and the way she'd 
 order them oh, dear ! oh, dear ! it makes me shiver 
 to think of it ! " 
 
 " Yes, Nurse," interrupted the Doctor. " It was 
 unfortunate Mrs. Cameron arriving when I was ab 
 sent. I nave come back now, however, and all the 
 troubles you have just mentioned are, of course, at 
 an end. Still you have not explained the extraor 
 dinary statement you made to me when I came into 
 the room. Why is it that the children have run 
 away ? " 
 
 " I'm a-coming to that, sir ; that's, so to speak, 
 the crisis and all brought about by Mrs. Cameron. 
 I said that Miss Polly was kept in her room, and 
 after the first day no one allowed to go near her. 
 Mrs. Cameron herself would take her up her meals,
 
 1U POLLY. 
 
 and take the tray away again, and very little the 
 poor dear would eat, for I often saw what come out. 
 It would go to your heart, sir, that it would, for a 
 healthier appetite than Miss Polly's there ain't in 
 the family. Well, sir, Miss Helen had a letter from 
 you this morning, saying as how you'd be back by 
 six o'clock, and after dinner she went up to Miss 
 Polly's door, and I heard her, for I was walking 
 with baby up and down the passage. It was beauti 
 ful to hear the loving way Miss Helen spoke, 
 Doctor; she was kneeling down and singing her 
 words through the key-hole. ' Father'll be home to 
 night, Polly,' she said ' keep up heart, Poll dear 
 father'll be home to-night, and he'll make every 
 thing happy again.' Nothing could have been more 
 tender than Miss Helen's voice, it would have moved 
 anybody. But there was never a sound nor an an 
 swer from inside the room, and just then Miss Fire 
 fly and Master Bunny came rushing up the stairs as 
 if they were half mad. ' Oh Nell, come, come quick ! ' 
 they said, ' there's the step-ladder outside Poll's win 
 dow, and a bit of rope and two towels fastened to 
 gether hanging to the sill, and the window is wide 
 open ! ' Miss Helen ran down-stairs with a face 
 like a sheet, and by and by Alice came up and told 
 me the rest. Master Bunny got up on the step- 
 ladder, and by means of the rope and the bedroom 
 towels managed to climb on to the window-sill, and 
 then he saw there wasn't ever a Miss Polly at all in 
 the room. Oh, poor dear ! he might have broke his 
 own neck searching for her, but well, there's a 
 Providence over children, and no mistake. Miss 
 Polly had run away, that was plain. When Miss 
 Helen heard it, and knew that it was true, she 
 turned to Alice with her face like a bit of chalk, and 
 tears in her eyes, and, Alice,' she said,' ' I'm going
 
 WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN ? H5 
 
 to look for Polly. You can tell Nurse I'll be back 
 when I have found Polly.' With that she walked 
 down the path as fast as she could, and every one 
 of the others followed her. Alice watched them 
 getting over the little turnstile, and down by the 
 broad meadow, then she came up and let me know. 
 I blamed her for not coming sooner, but what's the 
 matter, Doctor?" 
 
 " I am going to find Polly and the others," said 
 Dr. May bright. "It was a pity no older person in 
 the house followed them ; but so many can scarcely 
 come to harm. It is Polly I am anxious about 
 they cannot have discovered her, or they would be 
 home before now." 
 
 The Doctor left the nursery, ran down-stairs, put 
 on his hat, and went out. As he did so, he heard 
 the dubious, questioning kind of cough which Mrs. 
 Cameron was so fond of making this cough was 
 accompanied by Scorpion's angry snarling little 
 bark. The Doctor prayed inwardly for patience as 
 he hurried down the avenue in search of his family. 
 He was absolutely at a loss where to seek them. 
 
 " The broad meadow only leads to the high-road," 
 he said to himself, " and the high-road has many 
 twists and turns. Surely the children cannot have 
 ventured on the moor; surely Polly cannot have 
 been mad enough to try to hide herself there." 
 
 " It was a starlight night, and the Doctor walked 
 quickly. 
 
 " I don't know where they are. I must simply 
 let instinct guide me," he said to himself ; and after 
 walking for three-quarters of an hour instinct did 
 direct him to where, seated on a little patch of green 
 turf at one side of the king's highway, were three 
 solitary and disreputable-looking little figures. 
 
 " Father ! " came convulsively from three little
 
 116 POLLY. 
 
 parched throats ; there was a volume in the cry, a 
 tone of rapture, of longing, of pain, which was al 
 most indescribable. " Father's come back again, 
 it's all right now," sobbed Firefly, and immediately 
 the boys and the little girl had cuddled up to him 
 and were kissing him, each boy taking possession of 
 a hand, and Firefly clasping her arms round his 
 neck. 
 
 "I know all about it, children," explained the 
 Doctor. " But tell me quickly, where are the 
 others ? where is Polly ? " 
 
 "Oh, you darling father!" said Firefly, "you 
 darling, you darling ! let me kiss you once again. 
 There, now I'm happy ! " 
 
 " But tell me where the others are, dear child." 
 
 " Just a little way off. We did get so tired, and 
 Helen said that Polly must have gone on the moor, 
 aud she said she must and would follow her." 
 
 " We were so tired," said Bunny. 
 
 " And there was a great nail running into my 
 heel," explained Bob. 
 
 " So we sat down here, and tried to pretend we 
 were gipsies," continued Firefly. " The moon was 
 shining, and that was a little wee bit of comfort, but 
 we didn't like it much. Father, it isn't much fun 
 being a gipsy, is it ? " 
 
 " No, dear ; but go on. How long is it since you 
 parted from the others ? " 
 
 "Half an hour; but it's all right. Bunny, you 
 can tell that part." 
 
 Bunny puffed himself out, and tried to speak in 
 his most important manner. 
 
 " Nell gave' me the dog- whistle," he said, " and I 
 was to whistle it if it was real necessary, not by no 
 means else. I didn't fancy that I was a gipsy. I 
 thought perhaps I was the driver of a fly, and that
 
 WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN ? 117 
 
 when I blew my whistle Nell would be like another 
 driver coming to me. That's what I thought," con 
 cluded Bunny. But as his metaphors were always 
 extremely mixed and confusing, no one listened to 
 him. 
 
 " You have a whistle ? " said the Doctor. " Give 
 it to me. This is a very dangerous thing that you 
 have done, children. Now, let me see how far I can 
 make the sound go. Oh, that thing ! I can make 
 a better whistle than that with my hand." 
 
 He did so, making the moor, on the borders of 
 which they stood, resound with a long, shrill, power 
 ful blast. Presently faint sounds came back in an 
 swer, and in about a quarter of an hour Helen and 
 her three sisters, very tired and faint, and loitering 
 in their steps, came slowly into view. 
 
 Oh yes ; they were all so glad to see father, but 
 they had not seen Polly ; no, not a trace nor sound 
 could be discovered to lead to Polly's whereabouts. 
 
 " But she must not spend the night alone on the 
 moor," said the Doctor. "No, that cannot be. 
 Children, you must all go home directly. On your 
 way past the lodge, Helen, desire Simkins and 
 George to come with lanterns to this place. They 
 are to wait for me here, and when they whistle I 
 will answer them. After they have waited here for 
 half an hour, and I do not whistle back, they are to 
 begin to search the moor on their own account. 
 Now go home as fast as you can, my dears. I will 
 return when I have found Polly, not before." 
 
 The moon was very brilliant that night, and 
 Helen's wistful face, as she looked full at her father, 
 caused him to bend suddenly and kiss her. " You 
 are my brave child, Nell. Be the bravest of all 
 by taking the others home now. Home, children ;
 
 118 POLLY. 
 
 and to bed at once, remember. No visiting of the 
 drawing-room for any of you to-night." 
 
 The Doctor smiled, and kissed his hand, and a 
 very disconsolate little party turned in the direction 
 of Sleepy Hollow. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. 
 
 IF ever there was a girl whose mind was in a 
 confused and complex state, that girl was Polly 
 Maybright. Suddenly into her life of sunshine and 
 ease and petting, into her days of love and indulg 
 ence, came the cold shadow of would-be justice. 
 Polly had done wrong, and a very stern judge, in 
 the shape of Aunt Maria Cameron, was punishing 
 her. 
 
 Polly had often been naughty in her life ; she 
 was an independent, quick-tempered child ; she had 
 determination, and heaps of courage, but she was 
 always supposed to want ballast. It was the fashion 
 in the house to be a little more lenient to Polly's 
 misdemeanors than to any one else's. When a 
 very little child, Nurse had excused ungovernable 
 fits of rage with the injudicious words, " Poor lamb, 
 she can't help herself ! " The sisters, older or 
 younger, yielded to Polly, partly because of a cer 
 tain fascination which she exercised over them, for 
 she was extremely brilliant and quick of idea, and 
 partly because they did not want her to get into 
 what they called her tantrums. Father, too, made 
 a pet of her, and perhaps slightly spoiled her, but 
 during mother's lifetime all this did not greatly 
 matter, for mother guided the imperious, impetuous,
 
 THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. 119 
 
 self-willed child, with the exquisite tact of love. 
 During mother's lifetime, when Polly was naughty, 
 she quickly became good again ; now matters were 
 very different. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron was a woman who, with excellent 
 qualities, and she had many, had not a scrap of the 
 " mother-feel " within her. There are women who 
 never called a child their own who are full of it, but 
 Mrs. Cameron was not one of these. Her rule with 
 regard to the management of young people was 
 simple and severe she saw no difference between 
 one child and another. " Spare the rod and spoil 
 the child," applied equally in every case, so now, 
 constituting herself Polly's rightful guardian in the 
 absence of her father, she made up her mind on no 
 account to spare the rod. Until Polly humbled 
 herself to the very dust she should go unforgiven. 
 Solitary confinement was a most safe and admirable 
 method of correction. Therefore unrepentant Polly 
 remained in her room. 
 
 The effects as far as the culprit was concerned 
 were not encouraging. In the first place she would 
 not acknowledge Mrs. Cameron's right to interfere 
 in her life ; in the next harshness had a very harden 
 ing effect on her. 
 
 It was dull in Polly's room. The naughtiest child 
 cannot cry all the time, nor sulk when left quite to 
 herself, and although, whenever Mrs. Cameron ap 
 peared on the scene, the sulks and temper both re 
 turned in full force, Polly spent many long and 
 miserable hours perfectly distracted with the long 
 ing to find something to do. The only books in the 
 room were Helen's little Bible, a copy of " Robinson 
 Crusoe," and the Dictionary. For obvious reasons 
 Polly did not care to read the Bible at present. 
 * Robinson Crusoe " she knew already by heart, but
 
 120 POLLY. 
 
 found it slightly amusing trying to make something 
 of the sentences read backwards. The Dictionary 
 was her final resource, and she managed to pass 
 many tedious hours working straight through it 
 page after page. She had got as far as M., and life 
 was becoming insupportable, when about the middle 
 of the day, on Monday, she was startled by a cau 
 tious and stealthy noise, and also by a shadow falling 
 directly on her page. She looked up quickly ; there 
 was the round and radiant face of Maggie glued to 
 the outside of the window, while her voice came in, 
 cautious but piercing, "Open the window quick, 
 Miss Polly, I'm a- falling down." 
 
 Polly flew to the rescue, and in a moment Maggie 
 was standing in the room. In her delight at seeing 
 a more genial face than Aunt Maria's, Polly flung 
 her arms round Maggie and kissed her. 
 
 " How good of you to come ! " she exclaimed. 
 "And you must not go away again. Where will 
 you hide when Aunt Maria comes to visit me? 
 Under the bed, or in this cupboard ? " 
 
 " Not in neither place," responded Maggie, who 
 was still gasping and breathless, and whose brown 
 winsey frock showed a disastrous tear from hem to 
 waist. 
 
 " Not in neither place," she proceeded, " for I 
 couldn't a-abear it any longer, and you ain't going to 
 stay in this room no longer, Miss Polly ; I nearly 
 brained myself a-clinging on to the honeysuckle, 
 and the ivy-roots, but here I be, and now we'll both 
 go down the ladder and run away." 
 
 " Run away oh ! " said Polly, clasping her hands, 
 and a great flood of rose-color lighting up her face. 
 
 She ran to the window. The housemaid's step- 
 ladder stood below, but Polly's window was two or 
 three feet above,
 
 THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. 121 
 
 " We'll manage with a bit of rope and the bed 
 room towels," said Maggie, eagerly. " It's nothing 
 at all, getting down it's what I did was the danger. 
 Now, be quick, Miss Polly ; let's get away while 
 they're at dinner." 
 
 It did not take an instant for Polly to decide. 
 Between the delights of roaming the country with 
 Maggie, and the pleasure of continuing to read 
 through the M's in "Webster's Dictionary, there 
 could be little choice. On the side of liberty and 
 freedom alone could the balance fall. The bed 
 room towels were quickly tied on to the old rope, 
 the rope secured firmly inside the window-sill, and 
 the two girls let themselves swing lightly on to the 
 step-ladder. They were both agile, and the descent 
 did not terrify them in the least. When they 
 reached the ground they took each other's hands, 
 and looked into each other's faces. 
 
 "You might have thought of bringing a hat, Miss 
 Polly." 
 
 " Oh never mind, Maggie. You do look shabby ; 
 your frock is torn right open." 
 
 " Well, Miss, I got it a-coming to save you. Miss 
 Polly, Mrs. Power's back in the kitchen. Hadn't we 
 better run ? We'll talk afterwards." 
 
 So they did, not meeting any one, for Mrs. 
 Cameron and the children were all at dinner, and 
 the servants were also in the house. They ran 
 through the kitchen garden, vaulted over the sunken 
 fence, and found themselves in the little sheltered 
 green lane, where Polly had lain on her face and 
 hands and caught the thrushes on the July day when 
 her mother died. She stood almost in the same spot 
 now, but her mind was in too great a whirl, and 
 her feelings too excited, to cast back any glances of 
 memory just then.
 
 122 POLLY. 
 
 tt Well, Maggie," she said, pulling up short, " now, 
 what are your plans? Where are we going to? 
 Where are we to hide ? " 
 
 "Eh?" said Maggie. 
 
 She had evidently come to the end of her re 
 sources, and the intelligent light suddenly left her 
 face. 
 
 I didn't think o' that," she said: ''there's 
 mother's." 
 
 " No, that wouldn't do," interrupted Polly. " Your 
 mother has only two rooms. I couldn't hide long in 
 her house ; and besides, she is poor, I would not 
 put myself on her for anything. I'll tell you what, 
 Maggie, we'll go across Peg-Top Moor, and make 
 straight for the old hut by the belt of fir-trees. You 
 know it, we had a picnic there once, and I made up a 
 story of hermits living in the hut. Well, you and I 
 will be the hermits." 
 
 ' But what are we to eat ? " said Maggie, whose 
 ideas were all practical, and her appetite capacious. 
 
 Polly's bright eyes, however, were dancing, and 
 her whole face was radiant. The delight of being a 
 real hermit, and living in a real hut, far surpassed 
 any desire for food. 
 
 " We'll eat berries from the trees," she said, " and 
 we'll drink water from the spring. I know there's a 
 spring of delicious water not far from the hut. Oh ! 
 come along, Maggie, do ; this is delightful ! " 
 
 An old pony, who went in the family by the 
 stately name of Sultan, had been wont to help the 
 children in their long rambles over the moor. They 
 were never allowed to wander far alone, and had not 
 made one expedition since their mother's death. It 
 was really two years since Polly had been to the hut 
 at the far end of Peg-Top Moor. This moor was par 
 ticularly lonely, it was interspersed at intervals with
 
 THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. 123 
 
 thickets of rank undergrowth and belts of trees, and 
 was much frequented on that account by gipsies and 
 other lawless people. Polly, who went last over the 
 moor, carried the greater part of the way on Sultan's 
 friendly back, had very little idea how far the dis 
 tance was. It was September now, but the sun shone 
 on the heather and fern with great power, and as 
 Polly had no hat on her head, having refused to take 
 Maggie's from her, she was glad to take shelter under 
 friendly trees whenever they came across her path. 
 
 At first the little girls walked very quickly, for 
 they were afraid of being overtaken and brought 
 back ; but after a time their steps grew slow, their 
 movement decidedly languid, and Maggie at least 
 began to feel that berries from the trees and water 
 from the spring, particularly when neither was to 
 be found anywhere, was by no means a substantial 
 or agreeable diet to dwell upon. 
 
 " I don't think I like being a hermit," she began. 
 " I don't know nought what it means, but I fancy it 
 must be very thinning and running down to the con- 
 stitootion." 
 
 Polly looked at her, and burst out laughing. 
 
 " It is," she said, " that's what the life was meant 
 for, to subdue the flesh hi all possible ways ; you'll 
 get as thin as a whipping-post, Mag." 
 
 " I don't like it," retorted Maggie. " May -be we'd 
 best be returning home, now, Miss Polly." 
 
 Polly's eyes flashed. She caught Maggie by the 
 shoulder. 
 
 You are a mean girl," she said. " You got me 
 into this scrape, and now you mean to desert me. I 
 was sitting quietly in my room, reading through the 
 M's in Webster's Dictionary, and you came and 
 asked me to run away ; it was your doing, Maggie, 
 you know that."
 
 124 POLLY. 
 
 ** Yes, Miss ! yes, Miss ! w 
 
 Maggie began to sob. " But I never, never thought 
 it meant berries and spring- water ; no, that I didn't. 
 Oh, I be so hungry ! " 
 
 At this moment all angry recriminations were 
 frozen on the lips of both little girls, for rising sud 
 denly, almost as it seemed from the ground at their 
 feet, appeared a gaunt woman of gigantic make. 
 
 " May-be you'll be hungrier," she said in a menac 
 ing voice. " What business have you to go through 
 Deadman's Copse without leave ? " 
 
 Maggie was much too alarmed to make any reply, 
 but Polly, after a moment or two of startled silence, 
 came boldly to the rescue. 
 
 " Who are you ? " she said. " Maggie and I know 
 nothing of Deadman's Copse ; this is a wood, and 
 we are going through it ; we have got business on 
 the other side of Peg-Top Moor." 
 
 " That's as it may be," replied the woman, " this 
 wood belongs to me and to my sons, Nathaniel and 
 Patrick, and to our dogs Cinder and Flinder, and 
 those what goes through Deadman's Copse must pay 
 toll to me, the wife of Micah Jones. My husband 
 is dead, and he left the wood to me, and them as go 
 through it must pay toll." 
 
 The woman's voice was very menacing ; she was 
 of enormous size, and going up to the little girls, 
 attempted to place one of her brawny arms on 
 Polly's shoulder. But Polly with all her faults 
 possessed a great deal of courage ; her eyes flashed, 
 and she sprang aside from the woman's touch. 
 
 "You are talking nonsense," she said. "Father 
 has over and over told me that the moor belongs to 
 the Queen, so this little bit couldn't have been given 
 to your husband, Micah Jones, and we are just as
 
 THE WIFE OF MIC AH JONES. 125 
 
 free to walk here as you are. Come on, Maggie, we'll 
 be late for our business if we idle any longer." 
 
 But the woman with a loud and angry word de 
 tained her. 
 
 " Highty-tighty ! " she said. Here's spirit for 
 you, and who may your respected papa be, my dear ? 
 He seems to be mighty wise. And the wife of Micab 
 Jones would much like to know his name " 
 
 "You're a very rude unpleasant woman," said 
 Polly. " Don't hold me, I won't be touched by you. 
 My father is Dr. Maybright, of Sleepy Hollow, you 
 must know his name quite well." 
 
 The wife of Micah Jones dropped a supercilious 
 curtsey. 
 
 " Will you tell Dr. Maybright, my pretty little 
 dear," she said, " that in these parts might is right, 
 and that when the Queen wants Deadman's Copse, 
 she can come and have a talk with me, and my two 
 sons, and the dogs, Cinder and Flinder. But, there, 
 what am I idling for with a chit like you ? You and 
 that other girl there have got to pay toll. You have 
 both of you got to give me your clothes. There's 
 no way out of it, so you needn't think to try words, 
 nor blarney, nor nothing else with me. I have a sack 
 dress each for you, and what you have on is mine. 
 That's the toll, you will have to pay it. My hut 
 is just beyond at the other side of the wood, my sons 
 are away, but Cinder and Flinder will take care of 
 you until I come back, at nine o'clock. Here, follow 
 me, we're close to the hut. No words, or it will be 
 the worse for you. On in front, the two of you, or 
 you, little Miss," shaking her hand angrily at Polly, 
 " will know what it means to bandy words with the 
 wife of Micah Jones." 
 
 The woman's face became now very fierce and 
 terrible, and even Polly was sufficiently impressed
 
 126 POLLY. 
 
 to walk quietly before her, clutching hold of poor 
 terrified Maggie's hand. 
 
 The hut to which the woman took the little girls 
 was the very hermit's hut to which their own steps 
 had been bent. It was a very dirty place, consisting 
 of one room, which was now filled with smoke from 
 a fire made of broken fagots, fir-cones, and with 
 ered fern. Two ugly lean-looking dogs guarded the 
 entrance to the hut. When they saw the woman 
 coming, they jumped up and began to bark savagely ; 
 poor Maggie began to scream, and Polly for the first 
 time discovered that there could be a worse state of 
 things than solitary confinement in her room, with 
 Webster's Dictionary for company. 
 
 " Sit you there," said the woman, pushing the 
 kittle girls into the hut. " I'll be back at nine o'clock. 
 I'm off now on some business of my own. When I 
 come back I'll take your clothes, and give you a sack 
 each to wear. Cinder and Flinder will take care of 
 you ; they're very savage dogs, and can bite awful, 
 but they won't touch you if you sit very quiet, and 
 don't attempt to run away." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 DISTRESSED HEROINES. 
 
 IF ever poor little girls found themselves in a 
 plight it was the two who now huddled close to 
 gether in the hermit's hut. Even Polly was thor 
 oughly frightened, and as to Maggie, nothing but 
 the angry growls of Cinder restrained the violence 
 of her sobs. 
 
 " Oh, ain't a hermit's life awful ! " she whispered 
 more than once to her companion. " Oh ! Miss Polly,
 
 HEROINES. 
 
 why did you speak of Peg- Top Moor, and the her 
 mit's hut, and berries and water ? " 
 
 " Don't be silly, Maggie," said Polly, " I did not 
 mention the wife of Micah Jones, nor these dreadful 
 dogs. This is a misfortune, and we must bear it as 
 best we can. Have you none of the spirit of a hero 
 ine in you, Maggie ; don't you know that in all the 
 story-books, when the heroines run away, they come 
 to dreadful grief ? If we look at it in that light, and 
 think of ourselves as distressed heroines, it will help 
 us to bear up. Indeed," continued Polly, " if it 
 wasn't for my having been naughty a few days ago, 
 and perhaps father coming back to night, I think 
 
 I'd enjoy this I would really. As it is- " Plere 
 
 the brave little voice broke off into a decided quaver. 
 The night was falling, the stars were coming out in 
 the sky, and Polly, standing in the door of the hut, 
 with her arm thrown protectingly round Maggie's 
 neck, found a great rush of loneliness come over her. 
 
 During those weary days spent in her bedroom, 
 repentance, even in the most transient guise, had 
 scarcely come near her. She was too much oppressed 
 with a sense of injustice done to herself to be sorry 
 about the feast in the attic. In short, all her time 
 was spent in blaming Aunt Maria. 
 
 Now with the lonely feeling came a great soreness 
 of heart, and an intense and painful longing for her 
 mother. Those fits of longing which came to Polly 
 now and then heralded in, as a rule, a tempest of grief. 
 Wherever she was she would fling herself on the 
 ground, and give way to most passionate weeping. 
 Her eyes swam in tears now, she trembled slightly, 
 but controlled herself. On Maggie's accoumVit would 
 never do for her to give way. The ugly dogs came 
 up and sniffed at her hands, and smeit her dress. 
 Maggie screamed when they approached her, but
 
 128 
 
 ( -lly patted their heads. She was not really afraid of 
 Uiem, neither was she greatly alarmed at the thought 
 of the wife of Micah Jones. What oppressed her, 
 and brought that feeling of tightness to her throat, 
 and that smarting weight of tears to her eyes, were 
 the great multitude of stars in the dark-blue heavens, 
 and the infinite and grand solitude of the moors 
 which lay around. 
 
 The night grew darker ; poor Maggie, worn out, 
 crouched down on the ground ; Polly, who had now 
 quite made friends with Cinder, sat by Maggie's side, 
 and when the poor hungry little girl fell asleep, Polly 
 let her rest her head in her lap. The dogs and the 
 two children were all collected in the doorway of the 
 hut, and now Polly could look more calmly up at the 
 stars, and the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. 
 
 It was in this position that, at about a quarter to 
 nine, Dr. May bright found her. Some instinct seemed 
 to lead him to Peg-top Moor a sudden recollection 
 brought the hut to his memory, a ringing voice, and 
 gay laugh came back to him. The laugh was Polly's, 
 the words were hers. " Oh, if there could be a de 
 lightful thing, it would be to live as a hermit in the 
 hut at the other side of Peg-Top Moor ! " 
 
 " The child is there," he said to himself. And 
 when this thought came to him he felt so sure that 
 it was a true and guiding thought that he whistled 
 for the men who were to help him in the search, and 
 together they went to the hut. 
 
 Cinder and Flinder had got accustomed to Polly, 
 whom they rather liked ; Maggie they barely toler 
 ated ; but the firm steps of three strangers approach 
 ing the hut caused them to bristle up, to call all 
 their canine ferocity to their aid, and to bark 
 furiously. 
 
 But all their show of enmity mattered nothing in
 
 DISTRESSED HEROINES. 
 
 such a supreme moment as this to Polly. No dogs, 
 however fierce, should keep her from the arms of 
 her father. In an instant she was there, cuddling up 
 close to him, while the men he had brought with him 
 took care of Maggie, and beat off the angry dogs. 
 
 " Father, there never was any one as naughty as I 
 have been I " 
 
 " My darling, you have found that out ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, yes ! and you may punish me just 
 whatever way you like best, only let me kiss you 
 now. Punish me, but don't be angry." 
 
 " I'm going to take you home," said the Doctor, 
 who feared mischief from Polly's present state of 
 strong excitement. " I expect you have gone through 
 a fright and have had some punishment. The min 
 ute, too, we find out that we are really naughty, 
 our punishment begins as well as our forgiveness. 
 I shall very likely punish you, child, but be satisfied, 
 I forgive you freely. Now home, and to bed, and no 
 talk of anything to-night, except a good supper, and 
 a long restful sleep. Come, Polly, what's the matter ? 
 Do you object to be carried ? " 
 
 " But not in your arms, father. I am so big and 
 heavy, it will half-kill you." 
 
 " You. are tall, but not heavy, you are as light as 
 a reed. Listen! I forbid you to walk a step. 
 When I am tired there are two men to help me. 
 Simpkins, will you and George give Maggie a hand, 
 and keep close to us. Now, we had better aD get 
 home as fast as possible." 
 
 It was more than half -past ten that night before 
 Polly and the Doctor returned to Sleepy Hollow. 
 But what a journey home she had ! how comforting 
 were the arms that supported her, how restful was 
 the shoulder, on w 1 ;' , now and then in an ecstasy 
 of love and repent - % she laid her tired headl
 
 130 
 
 The stars were no longer terrible, far-off, and lonely, 
 but near and friendly, like the faces of well-known 
 friends. The moor ceased to be a great, vast, awful 
 solitude, it smelt of heather, and was alive with the 
 innumerable sounds of happy living creatures and 
 best of all, mother herself seemed to come back out 
 of the infinite, to comfort the heart of the sorrowful 
 child. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 LIMITS. 
 
 " AND now, Maria, I want to know what is the 
 meaning of all this," said the Doctor. 
 
 It was late that night, very late. Polly was in 
 bed, and Helen lay in her little white bed also, close 
 to Polly's side, so close that the sisters could hold 
 each other's hands. They lay asleep now, breathing 
 peacefully, and the Doctor being satisfied that no 
 serious mischief had happened to any of his family, 
 meant to have it out with his sister-in-law. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron was a very brave woman, or at 
 least she considered herself so; it was perfectly 
 natural that people should fear her, she did not ob 
 ject to a little wholesome awe on the part of those 
 who looked up to her and depended on her words of 
 wisdom. To be afraid on her own part was certainly 
 not her custom, and yet that evening, as she sat 
 alone in the deserted old drawing-room, and listened 
 to the wind as it rose fitfully and moaned through 
 the belt of fir-trees that sheltered the lawn ; as she 
 sat there, pretending to knit, but listening all the 
 time for footsteps which did not come, she did own 
 to a feeling which she would not describe as fear,
 
 LIMITS. 131 
 
 but which certainly kept her from going to bed, anc 
 make her feel somewhat uncomfortable. 
 
 It was about eleven o'clock that night when Dr. 
 May bright entered the drawing-room. He was a tall 
 man with a slight stoop, and his eyes looked some 
 what short-sighted. To-night, however, he walked 
 in quickly, holding himself erect. His eyes, too, had 
 lost their peculiar expression of nearness of vision, 
 and Mrs. Cameron knew at once that she was in for 
 a bad time. 
 
 " And now, Maria, I want to know what is the 
 meaning of all this," he said, coming up close to her. 
 
 She was standing, having gathered up her knitting 
 preparatory to retiring. 
 
 " I don't understand you, Andrew," she answered, 
 in a some what complaining, but also slightly alarmed 
 voice. " I think it is I who have to ask for an ex 
 planation. How is it that I have been left alone 
 this entire evening ? I had much to say to you I 
 came here on purpose, and yet you left me to myself 
 all these hours." 
 
 " Sit down, Maria," said the Doctor, more gently. 
 " I can give you as much time as you can desire now, 
 and as you will be leaving in the morning it is as 
 well that we should have our talk out to-night." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron's face became now really crimson 
 with anger. 
 
 " You can say words like that to me ? " she said 
 " your wife's sister." 
 
 "My dear wife's half-sister, and until now my 
 very good friend," retorted the Doctor. " But, how 
 ever well you have meant it, you have sown dissen 
 sion and unhappiness in the midst of a number of 
 motherless children, and for the present,"* at least, for 
 all parties, I must ask you, Mafia, to return to Bath." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron sank now plump down into her
 
 132 POLLY. 
 
 chair. She was too deeply offended for a moment 
 to speak. Then she said, shortly 
 
 " I will certainly return, but from this moment I 
 wash my hands of you all." 
 
 " I hope not," said the Doctor. " I trust another 
 time you will come to me as my welcome and invited 
 guest. You see, Maria" here his eyes twinkled 
 with that sly humor which characterized him " it 
 was a mistake it always is a mistake to take the 
 full reins of government in any house uninvited." 
 
 tt But, Andrew, you were making such a fool of 
 yourself. After that letter of yours I felt almost 
 hopeless, so for poor Helen's sake I came, at great 
 personal inconvenience. Your home is most dreary, 
 the surroundings appalling in their solitude. No 
 wonder Helen died ! Andrew, I thought it but 
 right to do my best for those poor children. I came, 
 the house was in a state of riot, you have not an idea 
 what Polly's conduct was. Disrespectful, insolent, 
 impertinent. I consider her an almost wicked girl." 
 
 " Stop," said the Doctor. " We are not going to 
 
 discuss Polly. She behaved badly, I grant. But I 
 
 think, Maria, when you locked her up in her room, 
 
 and forbade Helen to go to her, and treated her 
 
 without a spark of affection or a vestige of sympathy ; 
 
 >n you kept up this line of conduct for four long 
 
 .5, you yourself in God's sight were not blameless. 
 
 .1 at least forgot that you too were once fourteen, 
 
 perhaps you never were ; no, I am sure you never 
 were what that child is with all her faults noble." 
 
 " That is enough, Andrew, we will, as you say, 
 v not discuss Polly further. I leave by the first train 
 that can take me away \n the morning. You are 
 a very much mistaking and ill-judging man; you 
 were never worthy tc be Helen's husband, and I 
 Bitterly grieve that her children must be brought
 
 LIMITS. 133 
 
 L1 P by you. For Helen's sake alone, I must nov 
 give you one parting piece of advice, it is t 
 When Miss Grinsted comes, treat her with kindm > 
 and consideration. Keep Miss Grinsted in this 
 house at all hazards, and there may be a chance for 
 your family." 
 
 " Miss Grinsted ! " said the Doctor. " Who, and 
 what do you mean ? " 
 
 " Andrew, when I introduce you to such a lady I 
 heap coals of fire on your head. Miss Grinsted alone 
 can bring order out of chaos, peace out of strife. In 
 short, when she is established here, I shall feel at 
 rest as far as my dear sister's memory is concerned." 
 
 "Miss Grinsted is not going to be established in 
 this house," said the Doctor. " But who is she ? I 
 never heard of her before. " 
 
 " She is the lady-housekeeper and governess whom 
 I have selected for you. She arrives at mid-day to 
 morrow." 
 
 " From where ? " 
 
 " How queerly you look at me, Andrew. Nobody 
 would suppose you were just delivered from a load 
 of household care and confusion. Such a treasure, 
 too, the best of disciplinarians. She is fifty, a little 
 angular, but capital at breaking in. What is the 
 matter, Andrew ? " 
 
 " What is Miss Grinsted's address ? " 
 
 "Well, well; really your manners are beari ;:'. 
 She is staying with an invalid sister at Exeter ;it 
 present. " 
 
 " Will you oblige me with the street and number 
 of the house ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; but she can scarcely get here before 
 mid-day now. Her trains are all arranged. " 
 
 " The name of the street and number of the house, 
 if you please, Maria. "
 
 134 POLLY. 
 
 Vere Street, No. 30. But she can't be here be 
 fore twelve or one to-morrow, Andrew." 
 
 " She is never to come here. I shall go into the 
 village the first thing in the morning, and send her 
 a telegram. She is never to come here. Maria, you 
 made a mistake, you went too far. If you and I are 
 to speak to each other in the future, don't let it occur 
 again. Good-night ; I will see that you are called in 
 good time in the morning. " 
 
 It was useless either to argue or to fight. Dr. 
 Maybright had, as the children sometimes described 
 it, a shut-up look on his face. No one was ever yet 
 known to interfere seriously with the Doctor when 
 he wore that expression, and Aunt Maria, with Scor 
 pion under her arm, hobbled up-stairs, tired, weary 
 and defeated. 
 
 " I wash my hands of him and his," she muttered* 
 and the unhappy lady shed some bitter tears of 
 wounded mortification and vanity as she laid her 
 head on her pillow. 
 
 u I know I was severe with her," murmured the 
 Doctor to himself, " but there are some women who 
 must be put down with a firm hand. Yes, I can bear 
 a great deal, but to have Maria Cameron punishing 
 Polly, and establishing a housekeeper and governess 
 of her own choosing in this family is beyond my 
 patience. As I said before, there are limits."
 
 THE HIGH MOUNTAINS. 135 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE HIGH MOUNTAINS. 
 
 HELEN and Polly slept late on the following morn 
 ing. They were both awakened simultaneously by 
 Nurse, who, holding baby in her arms, came, briskly 
 into the room. Nurse was immediately followed by 
 Alice bearing a tray with an appetizing breakfast for 
 both the little girls. 
 
 " The Doctor says you are neither of you to get 
 up until you have had a good meal," said Nurse. 
 
 "And, Miss Polly, he'd like to have a word with 
 you, darling, in his study about eleven o'clock. Eh, 
 dear, but it's blessed and comforting to have the dear 
 man home again ; the house feels like itself, and we 
 may breathe now." 
 
 "And it's blessed and comforting to have one we 
 wot of away again," retorted Alice. " The young 
 ladies will be pleased, won't they, Nurse ? " 
 
 "To be sure they will. You needn't look so 
 startled, loveys, either of you. It's only your aunt 
 and the dog what is well quit of the house. They're 
 on their road to Bath now, and long may they stay 
 there." 
 
 At this news Helen looked a little puzzled, and 
 not very joyful, but Polly instantly sat up hi bed 
 and spoke in very bright tones. 
 
 " What a darling father is ! I'm as hungry as pos 
 sible. Give me my breakfast, please, Alice ; and oh, 
 Nurse, mightn't baby sit between us for a little in 
 bed?" 
 
 " You must support her back well with pillows,"
 
 136 POLLY. 
 
 said Nurse. " And see as you don't spill any coffee 
 on her white dress. Eh ! then, isn't she the sweetest 
 and prettiest lamb in all the world ? " 
 
 The baby, whose little white face had not a tinge 
 of color, and whose very large velvety brown eyes 
 always wore a gentle, heavenly calm about them, 
 smiled hi a slow way. When she smiled she showed 
 dimples, but she was a wonderfully grave baby, as 
 though she knew something of the great loss which 
 had accompanied her birth. 
 
 " She is lovely," said Polly. " It makes me feel good 
 even to look at her. 
 
 " Then be good, for her sake, darling," said Nurse, 
 suddenly stooping and kissing the bright, vivacious 
 girl, and then bestowing another and tenderer kiss 
 on the motherless baby. " She's for all the world 
 like Peace itself," said Nurse. " There ain't no sort 
 of naughtiness or crossness in her." 
 
 " Oh, she makes me feel good ! " said Polly, hug 
 ging the little creature fondly to her side. 
 
 Two hours later Polly stood with her father's arm 
 round her neck : a slanting ray of sunlight was fall 
 ing across the old faded carpet in the study, and 
 mother's eyes smiled out of their picture at Polly 
 from the wall. 
 
 "You have been punished enough," said the 
 Doctor. " I have sent for you now just to say a word 
 or two. You are a very young climber, Polly, but 
 if this kind of thing is often repeated, you will never 
 make any way." 
 
 " I don't understand you, father." 
 
 The Doctor patted Polly's curly head 
 
 " Child," he said, " we have all of us to go 
 mountains, and if you choose a higher one, Wi, 
 peaks nearer to the sky than others, you have all 
 the more need for the necessary helps for ascent."
 
 THE HIGH MOUNTAINS. 137 
 
 u Father is always delightful when he is allegori 
 cal," Polly had once said. 
 
 Now she threw back her head, looked full into his 
 dearly- loved face, clasped his hands tightly in both 
 her own, and said with tears filling her eyes, " I am 
 glad you are going to teach me through a kind of 
 story, and I think I know what you mean by my 
 trying to climb the highest mountain. I always did 
 long to do whatever I did a little better than any 
 one else." 
 
 " Exactly so, Polly ; go on wishing that. Still try 
 to climb the highest mountain, only take with you 
 humility instead of self-confidence, and then, child, 
 you will succeed, for you will be very glad to avail 
 yourself of the necessary helps." 
 
 The helps ? What are they, father ? I partly 
 know what you mean, but I am not sure that I quite 
 know." 
 
 " Oh yes, you quite know. You have known ever 
 since you knelt at your mother's knee, and whispered 
 your prayers all the better to God because she was 
 listening too. But I will explain myself by the com 
 monest of illustrations. A shepherd wanted to res 
 cue one of his flock from a most perilous situation. 
 The straying sheep had come to a ledge of rock, from 
 where it could not move either backwards or for 
 wards. It had climbed up thousands of feet. How 
 was the shepherd to get to it ? There was one way. 
 His friends went by another road to the top of the 
 mountain. From there they threw down ropes, 
 which he bound firmty round him, and then they 
 drew him slowly up. He reached the ledge, he res 
 cued the sheep, and it was saved. He could have 
 done nothing without the ropes. So you, too, Polly, 
 can do nothing worthy ; you can never climb your 
 high mountain without the aid of that prayer which
 
 138 POLLY. 
 
 links you to your Father in heaven. Do you under 
 stand?" 
 
 " Yes, I understand," said Polly ; " I see. I won't 
 housekeep any more for the present, father." 
 
 " You had better not, dear ; you have plenty of 
 talent for this, as well as for anything else you like 
 to undertake, but you lack experience now, and 
 discretion. It was just all this, and that self-confi 
 dence which I alluded to just now, which got my 
 little girl into all this trouble, and caused Aunt 
 Maria to think very badly of her. Aunt Maria has 
 gone, so we will say nothing about her just at pres 
 ent. I may be a foolish old father, Polly, but I own 
 I have a great desire to keep my children to myself 
 just now. So I shall give Sleepy Hollow another 
 chance of doing without a grown-up housekeeper. 
 Your governesses and masters shall come to teach 
 you as arranged, but Helen must be housekeeper, 
 with Mrs. Power, who is a very managing person, 
 to help her. Helen, too, must have a certain amount 
 of authority over you all, with the power to appeal 
 to me in any emergency. This you must submit to, 
 Polly, and I shall expect you to do so with a good 
 grace." 
 
 " Yes, father." 
 
 " I have acceded to your wishes in the matter of 
 bringing the Australian children here for at least 
 six months. So you see you have a good deal on 
 your hands ; and as I have done so at the express 
 wish of Helen and yourself, I shall expect you both 
 to take a good deal of responsibility, and to be in 
 every sense of the word, extra good." 
 
 Polly's eyes danced with pleasure. Then she 
 looked up into her father's face, and something she 
 saw there caused her to clasp her arms round his 
 neck, and whisper eagerly and impulsively
 
 THE HIGH MOtfNfAittS, 
 
 " Father, dear, what Helen told me is not true is 
 it?" 
 
 "You mean about my eyes, Polly? So Helen 
 knows, and has spoken about it, poor girl ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes, but it isn't true, it can't be ? " 
 
 " Don't tremble, Polly. I am quite willing to tell 
 you how things really are. I don't wish it to be 
 spoken of, but it is a relief to trust some one. I saw 
 Sir James Dawson when in town. He is the first 
 oculist in England. He told me that my sight was 
 in a precarious state, and that if matters turned out 
 unfavorably it is possible, nay probable, that I may 
 become quite blind. On the other hand he gives me 
 a prescription which he thinks and hopes will avert 
 the danger." 
 
 " What is it ? Oh ! father, you will surely try it ? " 
 
 " If you and the others will help me." 
 
 "But what is it?" 
 
 Dr. Maybright stroked back Polly's curls. 
 
 " Very little anxiety," he said. " As much rest 
 as possible, worries forbidden, home peace and rest 
 largely insisted upon. Now run away, my dear. I 
 hear the tramp of my poor people. This is their 
 morning, you remember." 
 
 Polly kissed her father, and quietly left the room. 
 
 " See if I'm not good after that," she murmured. 
 "Wild horses shouldn't drag me into naughtiness 
 after what father has just said."
 
 PART II 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS. 
 
 ALL the young Maybrights, with the exception of 
 the baby, were collected in the morning-room. It 
 was the middle of October. The summer heat had 
 long departed, the trees were shedding their leaves 
 fast, the sky had an appearance of coming wind and 
 showers ; the great stretch of moorland which could 
 be seen best in winter when the oaks and elms were 
 bare, was distinctly visible. The moor had broad 
 shadows on it, also tracts of intense light; the 
 bracken was changing from green to brown and 
 yellow color brilliant color was everywhere. At 
 this time of year the moors in many ways looked 
 their best. 
 
 The May bright children, however, were not think 
 ing of the landscape, or the fast approach of whiter, 
 they were busily engaged chattering and consulting 
 together. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and 
 they knew that the time left for them to prepare 
 was short, consequently their busy fingers worked 
 as well as their tongues. Helen was helping the 
 twins and the little boys to make up a wreath of 
 enormous dimensions, and Polly, as usual, was flit 
 ting about the room, followed by her satellite Fire 
 fly. As usual, too, Polly was first to remark and 
 140
 
 A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS. 
 
 quickest to censure. She looked very much like the 
 old Polly ; no outward change was in the least vis 
 ible, although now she yielded a kind of obedience 
 to the most gentle and unexacting of sisters, and 
 although she still vowed daily to herself, that she, 
 Polly, wen 1 ! certainly climb the highest mountain, 
 and for ither's sake would be the best of all his 
 children. 
 
 " How slow you are, Nell," she now exclaimed, 
 impatiently ; " and look what a crooked ' E ' you 
 have made to tne end of ' WELCOME.' Oh, don't 
 be so slow, boys ! Paul and Virginia will be here 
 be! ore we are half ready." 
 
 tt They can't come before six o'clock," said Helen. 
 " We have two hours yet left to work in. Do, dear, 
 pretty Polly, find something else to take up your 
 time, and let the twins and the boys help me to 
 finish this wreath." 
 
 " Oh, if you don't want me," said Polly, in a 
 slightly offended voice. " Come along, Fly, we'll go 
 up and see if Virginia's room is ready, and then we'll 
 pay a visit to our baby. You and I won't stay where 
 we are not wanted. Come along." 
 
 Fly trotted off by her elder sister's side, a great 
 light of contentment filling her big eyes. The two 
 scampered up-stairs, saw that a cosy nest was all 
 ready for the Australian girl, while a smaller room 
 at the other side of the passage was in equal readiness 
 for the boy. 
 
 " Oh, what darling flowers ! " said Firefly, running 
 up to the dressing-table in the principal bedroom, 
 and sniffing at the contents of a dainty blue jar. 
 " Why, Polly, these buds must be from your own 
 pet tea-rose." 
 
 " Yes," said Polly, in a careless voice, " they are ; 
 I picked them for Virginia this morning. I'd do
 
 142 POLLY. 
 
 anything for Virginia. I'm greatly excited about 
 her coming." 
 
 " You never saw her," said Firefly, in an aggrieved 
 voice. " You wouldn't give me your tea-roses. I 
 don't think its nice of you to be fonder of her than 
 you are of me. And Nursie says her name isn't 
 Virginia." 
 
 " Never mind, she's Virginia to me, and the boy is 
 Paul. Why, Fly, what a jealous little piece you are. 
 Come here, and sit on my lap. Of course I'm fond 
 of you, Fly, but I'm not excited about you. I know 
 just the kind of nose you have, and the kind of 
 mouth, and the kind of big, scarecrow eyes, but you 
 see I don't know anything at all about Virginia, so 
 I'm making up stories about her, and pictures, all 
 day long. I expect she's something of a barbarian, 
 both she and her brother, and isn't it delicious to 
 think of having two real live barbarians in the 
 house ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Firefly, in a dubious voice. " I 
 suppose if they are real barbarians, they won't know 
 a bit how to behave, and we'll have to teach them. 
 I'll rather like that." 
 
 " Oh, you'll have to be awfully good, Fly, for 
 they'll copy you in every way ; no sulking or sitting 
 crooked, or having untidy hair, or you'll have a 
 couple of barbarians just doing the very same thing. 
 Now, jump off my lap, I want to go to Nurse, and 
 you may come with me as a great treat. I'm going 
 to undress baby. I do it every night ; and you may 
 see how I manage. Nurse says I'm very clever 
 about the way I manage babies." 
 
 " Oh, you're clever about everything," said Fly, 
 with a prolonged, deep-drawn breath. " Well, 
 Polly, I do hope one thing." 
 
 "Yes?"
 
 A COtTPLE OF BARBARIANS. 
 
 * I do hope that the barbarians will be very, very 
 ugly, for after you've seen them you won't be curious 
 any more, and after you know them there won't be 
 any stories to make up, and then you won't love 
 them better than me." 
 
 " What a silly you are, Fly," responded Polly. 
 
 But she gave her little sister's hand an affectionate 
 squeeze, which satisfied the hungry and exacting 
 heart of its small owner for the present. 
 
 Meanwhile the enormous wreath progressed well 
 and presently took up an important position over 
 the house doorway. As the daylight was getting 
 dim, and as it would, in the estimation of the chil 
 dren, be the cruellest thing possible if the full glories 
 of the wreath were not visible to the eyes of the 
 strangers when they approached Sleepy Hollow, 
 lamps were cunningly placed in positions where 
 their full light could fall on the large " Welcome," 
 which was almost the unaided work of the twins 
 and their small brothers. 
 
 But now six o'clock was drawing near, and Polly 
 and Firefly joined the rest of the children in the hall. 
 The whole house was in perfect order ; an excellent 
 supper would be ready at any moment, and there 
 was little doubt that when the strangers did appear 
 they would receive a most hearty welcome. 
 
 " Wheels at last ! " said Bunny, turning a somer 
 sault in the air. 
 
 " Hurrah ! Three cheers for the barbarians ! " 
 sang out Firefly. 
 
 " I do hope Virginia will be beautiful," whispered 
 Polly, under her breath. 
 
 Helen went and stood on the door-steps. Polly 
 suddenly raised a colored lamp, and waved it above 
 her head. 
 
 "Welcome" smiled down from the enormous
 
 POLLY. 
 
 wreath, and shone on the features of each Maybright 
 as the Doctor opened the door of the carriage, and 
 helped a tall, slender girl, and a little boy in a black 
 velvet suit, to get out. 
 
 " Our travelers are very hungry, Polly," he said, 
 "and and very tired. Yes, I see you have pre 
 pared things nicely for them. But first of all they 
 must have supper, and after that I shall prescribe 
 bed. Welcome, my dear children, to Sleepy Hollow 1 
 May it be a happy home to you both." 
 
 "Thank you," said the girl. 
 
 She had a pale face, a quantity of long light hair, 
 and dreamy sleepy eyes ; the boy, on the contrary, 
 had an alert and watchful expression ; he clung to 
 his sister, and looked in her face when she spoke. 
 
 "Do tell us what you are called," said Polly. 
 " We are all just dying to know. Oh ! I trust, I do 
 trust that you are really Paul and Virginia. How 
 perfectly lovely it would be if those were your real 
 names." 
 
 The tall girl looked full into Polly's eyes, a 
 strange sweet wistful light filled her own, her 
 words came out musically. 
 
 " I am Flower," she said, " and this is David. I 
 am thirteen years old, and David is eight. Father 
 sent us away because after mother died there was no 
 one to take care of us." 
 
 A sigh of intense interest and sympathy fell from 
 the lips of all the young Maybrights. 
 
 "Come up-stairs, Flower; we know quite well 
 how to be sorry for you," said Helen. 
 
 She took the strange girl's hand, and led her up 
 the broad staircase. 
 
 " I'll stay below," said David. " I'm not the least 
 toed, and my hands don't want washing. Who's the 
 jolliest here ? Couldn't we have a game of ball ? I
 
 A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS. 145 
 
 haven't played ball since I left Ballarat. Flower 
 wouldn't let me. She said I might when I came 
 here. She spoke about coming here all the time, 
 and she always wanted to see your mother. She 
 .pried the whole of last night because your mother 
 was dead. Now has nobody got a ball, and won't 
 the j oiliest begin ? " 
 
 " I'll play with you, David," said Polly. " Now 
 catch ; there ! once, twice, thrice. Aren't you starv 
 ing ? I want my tea, if you don't." 
 
 " Flower said I wasn't to ask for anything to eat 
 now that your mother is dead, responded David. 
 " She said it wasn't likely we'd stay, but that while 
 we did I was to be on my good behavior. I hate 
 being on my good behavior ; but Flower's an awful 
 mistress. Yes, of course, I'm starving." 
 
 " Well, come in to tea, then," said Polly, laughing, 
 " Perhaps you will stay, and anyhow we are glad to 
 have you for a little. Children, please don't stare 
 so hard." 
 
 " I don't mind," said David. " They may stare 
 if it pleases them ; I rather like it." 
 
 " Like being stared at ! " repeated Firefly, whose 
 own sensitive little nature resented the most tran 
 sient glance. 
 
 " Yes," responded David, calmly ; "It shows that 
 I'm admired; and I know that I'm a very handsome 
 boy." . 
 
 So he was, with dark eyes like a gipsy, and a 
 splendid upright figure and bearing. Far from being 
 the barbarian of Polly's imagination, he had some of 
 the airs and graces of a born aristocrat. His calm 
 remarks and utter coolness astonished the little 
 Maybrights, who rather shrank away from him, and 
 left him altogether to Polly's patronage. 
 
 At this moment Helen and the young Australian
 
 146 POLLY. 
 
 girl came down together. David instantly trotted 
 up to his sister. 
 
 "She thinks that perhaps we'll stay, Flower," 
 pointing with his finger at Polly, " and in that case 
 I needn't keep up my company manners, need I ? " 
 
 " But you must behave well, David," responded 
 Flower, " or the English nation will fancy we are 
 not civilized." 
 
 She smiled in a lovely languid way at her brother, 
 and looked round with calm indifference at the boys 
 and girls who pressed close to her. 
 
 " Come and have tea," said Helen. 
 
 She placed Flower at her right hand. The Doctor 
 took the head of the table, and the meal progressed 
 more or less in silence. Flower was too lazy or too 
 delicate to eat much. David spent all his time in 
 trying to make Firefly laugh, and in avoiding the 
 Doctor's penetrating glance. The Maybrights were 
 too astonished at the appearance of their guests to 
 feel thoroughly at ease. Polly had a sensation 
 of things being somehow rather flat, and the Doctor 
 wondered much in his inward soul how this new 
 experiment would work. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A YOUNG QUEEN. 
 
 IT did not work well as far as Polly was concerned. 
 Whatever she was at home, whatever her faults and 
 failings, whatever her wild vagaries, or unreasonable 
 moods, she somehow or other always managed to be 
 first. First in play, first in naughtiness, first at her 
 lessons, the best musician, the best artist, the best 
 housekeeper, the best originator of sports and frolics
 
 A YOUNG QUEEN, 
 
 on all occasions, was Polly Maybright. From this 
 position, however, she was suddenly dethroned. It 
 was quite impossible for Polly to be first when 
 Flower was in the room. 
 
 Flower Dalrymple had the ways and manners of 
 a young queen. She was imperious, often ungra 
 cious, seldom obliging, but she had a knack of getting 
 people to think first of her, of saying the sort of 
 things which drew attention, and of putting every 
 other little girl with whom she came into contact 
 completely hi the shade. 
 
 In reality, Polly was a prettier girl than Flower. 
 Her eyes were brighter, her features more regular. 
 But just as much in reality Polly could not hold a 
 candle to Flower, for she had a sort of a languorous, 
 slumberous grace, which exactly suited her name ; 
 there was a kind of etherealness about her, an abso 
 lutely out-of-the-common look, which made people 
 glance at her again and again, each time to discover 
 how very lovely she was. 
 
 Flower was a perfect contrast to David, being as 
 fair as he was dark. Her face had a delicate, creamy 
 shade, her eyes were large and light blue, the lashes 
 and eyebrows being only a shade or two darker than 
 her long, straight, rather dull-looking, yellow hair. 
 She always wore her hair straight down her back ; 
 she was very willowy and pliant in figure, and had 
 something of the graoe and coloring of a daffodil. 
 
 Flower had not been a week in the Maybright 
 family before she contrived that all the arrange 
 ments in the, house should be more or less altered 
 to suit her convenience. She made no apparent 
 complaint, and never put her wishes into words, 
 still she contrived to have things done to please her. 
 For instance, l^ng before that week was out, Polly 
 found herself Deprived of the seat she had always
 
 148 POLLY. 
 
 occupied at meals by her father's side. Flower liked 
 to sit near the Doctor, therefore she did so ; she 
 liked to slip her hand into his between the courses, 
 and to look into his face with her wide-open, pathetic, 
 sweet eyes. Flower could not touch coffee at break 
 fast, therefore by common consent the whole family 
 adopted tea. In the morning-room Flower estab 
 lished herself in mother's deep arm-chair, hitherto 
 consecrated by all rights and usages to Helen. As 
 to Polly, she was simply dethroned from her pedes 
 tal, her wittiest remarks fell flat, her raciest stories 
 were received with languid interest. What were 
 they compared to the thrilling adventures which 
 the young Australian could tell when she pleased ! 
 Not, indeed, that Flower often pleased, she was not 
 given to many words, her nature was thoroughly 
 indolent and selfish, and only for one person would 
 she ever really rouse and exert herself. This person 
 was David ; he worshipped her, and she loved him 
 as deeply as it was in her nature to love any one. 
 To all appearance, however, it mattered very little 
 who, or how Flower loved. On all hands, every 
 one fell in love with her. Even Polly resigned her 
 favorite seat for her, even Helen looked without pain 
 at mother's* beloved chair when Flower's lissome 
 figure filled it. The younger children were for ever 
 offering flowers and fruit at her shrine. Nurse de 
 clared her a bonny, winsome thing, and, greatest 
 honor of all, allowed her to play with little Pearl, 
 the baby, for a few minutes, when the inclination 
 seized her. Before she was a week in the house, 
 not a servant in the place but would have done any 
 thing for her, and even the Doctor so far succumbed 
 to her charms as to pronounce her a gracious and 
 lovable creature. 
 ** Although I can't make her out," he often said to
 
 A VOUNO QUEEN, 
 
 himself, " I have an odd instinct which tells me that 
 there is the sleeping lioness or the wild cat hidden 
 somewhere beneath all that languid, gracious care 
 lessness. Poor little girl ! she has managed to cap 
 tivate us all, but I should not be surprised if she 
 turned out more difficult and troublesome to manage 
 than the whole of my seven daughters put together." 
 
 As Flower and David had been sent from Aus 
 tralia especially to be under the care and guidance 
 of Mrs. Maybright, the Doctor felt more and more 
 uncertain as to the expediency of keeping the chil 
 dren. 
 
 " It is difficult enough to manage a girl like Polly," 
 he said to himself ; " but when another girl comes 
 to the house who is equally audacious and untamed 
 for my Polly is an untamed creature when all's 
 said and done how is a poor half-blind old doctor 
 like myself to keep these two turbulent spirits in 
 order ? I am dreadfully afraid the experiment won't 
 work ; and yet and yet 400 a year is sadly needed 
 to add to the family purse just now." 
 
 The Doctor was pacing up and down his library 
 while he meditated. The carpet in this part of the 
 room was quite worn from the many times he walked 
 up and down it. Like many another man, when he 
 was perplexed or anxious he could not keep still. 
 There came a light tap at the library door. 
 
 " Come in ! " said the Doctor ; and to his surprise 
 Flower, looking more like a tall yellow daffodil than 
 ever, in a soft dress of creamy Indian silk, opened 
 the door and took a step or two into the room. 
 
 She looked half-shy, half-bold a word would 
 have sent her flying, or a word drawn her close to 
 the kind Doctor's side. 
 
 " Come here, my little girl," he said, " and tell me 
 what .you want "
 
 150 POLLY. 
 
 Flower would have hated any one else to speak 
 of her as a little girl, but she pushed back her hair 
 now, and looked with less hesitation and more long 
 ing at the Doctor. 
 
 " I thought you'd be here I ventured to come," 
 she said. 
 
 " Yes, yes ; there's no venturing in the matter. 
 Take my arm, and walk up and down with me." 
 
 "May I really?" 
 
 "Of course you may, puss. Now I'll warrant 
 anything you have walked many a carpet bare with 
 your own father. See ! this is almost in holes ; 
 those are Polly's steps, these are mine." 
 
 "Oh yes well, father isn't that sort of man. 
 I'll take your arm if I may, Doctor. Thank you. 
 I didn't think I don't exactly know how to say 
 what I want to. say." 
 
 " Take time, my dear child ; and it is no matter 
 how you put the words." 
 
 " When I heard that there was no mother here, 
 I did not want to stay long. That was before I 
 knew you. Now I came to say it I do want to 
 stay, and so does David." 
 
 " But you don't really know me at all, Flower." 
 
 " Perhaps not really ; but still enough to want to 
 stay. May I stay ? " 
 
 Flower's charming face looked up inquiringly. 
 
 " May I stay ? " she repeated, earnestly. " I do 
 wish it ! very much indeed." 
 
 Dr. Maybright was silent for a moment. 
 
 " I was thinking about this very point when you 
 knocked at the door," he said, presently. " I was 
 wondering if you two children could stay. I want 
 to keep you, and yet I own I am rather fearful of the 
 result. You see, there are so many motherless 
 girls and boys in this house."
 
 A YOUNG QUEEN. 151 
 
 But we are motherless too ; you should be sorry 
 for us ; you should wish to keep us." 
 
 " I ain very sorry for you. I have grown to a certain 
 extent already to love you. You interest me much ; 
 still, I must be just to you and to my own children. 
 You are not a common, everyday sort of girl, Flower. 
 I don't wish to flatter you, and I am not going to say 
 whether you are nice or the reverse. But there is no 
 harm in my telling you that you are out of the com 
 mon. It is probable that you may be extremely 
 difficult to manage, and it is possible that your dis 
 position may may clash with those of some of the 
 members of my own household. I don't say that this 
 will be the case, mind, only it is possible. In that 
 case, what would you expect me to do ? " 
 
 " To keep me," said Flower, boldly, " and, if neces 
 sary, send away the member of the household, for I 
 am a motherless girl, and I have come from a long 
 way off to be with you." 
 
 " I don't quite think I can do that, Flower. There 
 are many good mothers in England who would tram 
 you and love you, and there are many homes where 
 you might do better than here. My own children are 
 placed here by God himself, and I cannot turn them 
 out. Still what is the matter, my dear child ? " 
 
 " I think you are unjust ; I thought you would be 
 so glad when I said I wanted to stay." 
 
 " So I am glad ; and for the present you are here. 
 How long you remain depends on yourself. I have 
 no intention of sending you away at present. I 
 earnestly wish to keep you." 
 
 Another tap came to the study door. 
 
 " If you please, sir," said Alice, " blind Mrs. Jones 
 is in the kitchen, and wants to know most particular 
 if she can see you." 
 
 How ridiculous ! " said Flower, laughing.
 
 152 POLLY. 
 
 " Show Mrs. Jones in here, Alice," said the 
 Doctor. 
 
 His own face had grown a shade or two paler. 
 
 u Blind people often speak in that way, Flower," 
 he said, with a certain intonation in his voice which 
 made her regard him earnestly. 
 
 The memory of a rumor which had reached her 
 ears with regard to the Doctor's own sight flashed 
 Before her. She stooped suddenly, and with an im 
 pulsive, passionate gesture kissed his hand. 
 
 Outside the room David was waiting. 
 
 " Well, Flower, well ? " he asked, with intense 
 eagerness. 
 
 " I spoke to him," said Flower. " We are here on 
 sufferance, that's all. He is the dearest man in all 
 the world, but he is actually afraid of me." 
 
 "You are rather fierce at times, you know, 
 Flower. Did you tell him about about " 
 
 " About what, silly boy ? " 
 
 "About the passions. You know, Flower, we 
 agreed that he had better know." 
 
 A queer steely light came into Flower's blue eyes. 
 
 " I didn't speak of them," she said. " If I said 
 anything of that sort I'd soon be packed away. I 
 expect he's in an awful fright about that precious 
 Polly of his." 
 
 " But Polly is nice," interposed David. 
 
 " Oh yes, just because she has a rather good-look 
 ing face you go over to her side. I'm not at all sure 
 that I like her. Anyhow, I'm not going to play 
 second-fiddle to her. There now, Dave, go and play. 
 We're here on sufferance, so be on your good be- 
 aavior. As to me, you need not be the least un 
 easy. I wish to remain at Sleepy Hollow, so of 
 course the passions won't come. Go and play, 
 Dave,"
 
 A YOUNG QUEEN. 
 
 Firefly called across the lawn. David bounded 
 out of the open window, and Flower went slowly up 
 to her own room. 
 
 There came a lovely day towards the end of 
 October ; St. Martin's summer was abroad, and the 
 children, with the Doctor's permission, had arranged 
 to take a long expedition across one of the southern 
 moors in search of late blackberries. They took 
 their dinner with them, and George, the under- 
 gardener, accompanied the little party for protec 
 tion. Nurse elected, as usual, to stay at home with 
 baby, for nothing would induce her to allow this 
 treasured little mortal out of her own keeping ; but 
 the Doctor promised, if possible, to join the children 
 at Troublous Times Castle at two o'clock for dinner. 
 This old ruin was at the extreme corner of one of 
 the great commons, and was a very favorite resort 
 for picnics, as it still contained the remains of a fine 
 old banqueting-hall, where in stormy or uncertain 
 weather a certain amount of shelter could be 
 secured. 
 
 The children started off early, in capital spirits. 
 A light wind was blowing ; the sky was almost cloud- 
 Jess. The tints of late autumn were still abroad in 
 great glory, and the young faces looked fresh, care 
 less, and happy. 
 
 Just at the last moment, as they were leaving the 
 house, an idea darted through Polly's brain. 
 
 " Let's have Maggie," she said. " I'll go round 
 by the village and fetch her. She would en 
 joy coming with us so much, and it would take off 
 her terror of the moor. Do you know, Helen, she is 
 such a silly thing that she has been quite in a state 
 of alarm ever since the day we went to the hermit's 
 hut. I won't be a moment running to fetch Mag ; 
 do let's have her. Firefly, you can come with me."
 
 154: POLLY. 
 
 Maggie, who now resided with her mother, not 
 having yet found another situation for Mrs. Power 
 had absolutely declined to have her back in the 
 kitchen was a favorite with all the children. They 
 were pleased with Polly's proposal, and a chorus 
 of " Yes, by all means, let's have Maggie ! " rose in 
 the air. 
 
 Flower was standing a little apart; she wore a 
 dark green close-fitting cloth dress ; on her graceful 
 golden head was a small green velvet cap. She was 
 picking a late rose to pieces, and waiting for the 
 others with a look of languid indifference on her 
 face. Now she roused herself, and asked in a 
 slightly weary voice 
 
 Who is Maggie ? " 
 
 " Maggie ? " responded Helen, " she was our 
 kitchen-maid ; we are all very fond of her Polly 
 especially." 
 
 " Fond of a kitchen-maid ? I don't suppose you 
 mean that, Helen," said Flower. " A kitchen-maid's 
 only a servant." 
 
 " I certainly mean it," said Helen, with a little 
 warmth. "I am more or less fond of all our 
 servants, and Maggie used to be a special favorite." 
 
 " How extraordinary ! " said Flower " The Eng 
 lish nation have very queer and plebeian ways 
 about them; it's very plebeian to take the least 
 notice of servants, except to order them to obey 
 you." 
 
 " On the contrary," retorted Polly ; " it's the sign 
 of a true lady or gentleman to be perfectly courteous 
 to their dependants, and if they deserve love, to 
 give it to them. I'm fond of Maggie ; she's a good 
 little girl, and she shall come to our picnic. Come 
 along, Fire-fly." 
 
 " I certainly will have nothing to say to Polly
 
 A YOUNG QUEEN. 155 
 
 while she associates with a servant," said Flower, 
 slowly, and with great apparent calmness. " I don't 
 suppose we need all wait for her here. She can 
 follow with the servant when she gets her. I sup 
 pose Polly's whims are not to upset the whole 
 party." 
 
 " Polly will very likely catch us up at the cross 
 roads," said Helen, in a pleasant voice. " Come, 
 Flower, you won't really be troubled with poor 
 little Maggie ; she will spend her day probably with 
 George, and will help him to wash up our dinner- 
 things after we have eaten. Come, don't be vexed, 
 Flower." 
 
 " I vexed ! " said Flower. " You are quite mis 
 taken. I don't intend to have anything to say to 
 Polly while she chooses a kitchen-maid for her 
 friend, but I dare say the rest of you can entertain 
 me. Now, Mabel and Dolly, shall I tell you what 
 we did that dark night when David and I stole out 
 through the pantry window ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, yes ! " exclaimed the twins. The others 
 all clustered round eagerly. 
 
 Flower had a very distinct voice, and when she 
 roused herself she could really be eloquent. A 
 daring little adventure which she and her brother 
 had experienced lost nothing in the telling, and when 
 Polly, Firefly, and Maggie, joined the group, they 
 .found themselves taken very little notice of, for all 
 the other children, even Helen, were hanging on 
 Flower's words. 
 
 "Oh, I say, that isn't fair!" exclaimed Polly, 
 whose spirits were excellent. "You're telling a 
 story, Flower, and Firefly and I have missed it 
 Maggie loves stories too; don't you Mag? Do 
 begin again, please Flower, please do ! " 
 
 Flower did not even pretend to hear Polly's words
 
 she walked straight on, gesticulating a little now 
 and then, now and then raising her hand in a slightly 
 dramatic manner. Her clear voice floated back to 
 Polly as she walked forward, the center of an eager, 
 worshipping, entranced audience. 
 
 Polly's own temper was rather hasty, she felt her 
 face flushing, angry words were bubbling to her lips, 
 and she would have flown after the little party who 
 were so utterly ignoring her, if David had not sud 
 denly slipped back and put his hand on her arm. 
 
 " I know the story," he said ; " so I needn't stay 
 to listen. She's adding to it awfully. We didn't 
 use any ropes, the window is only three feet from 
 the ground, and the awful howling and barking of 
 the mastiff was made by the shabbiest little cur. 
 Flower is lovely, but she does dress up her stories. 
 I love Flower, but I'll walk with you now, if you'll 
 let me Polly." 
 
 "You're very kind, David," said Polly. But I 
 don't know that I want any one to walk with me, 
 except Maggie. I think Flower was very rude just 
 now. Oh, you can stay if you like, David I don't 
 mind, one way or another. Isn't this south moor 
 lovely, Maggie? Aren't you glad I asked you to 
 corne with us ? " 
 
 " Well yes, Miss, I be. It was good-natured of 
 you, Miss Polly, only if there's stories a-going, I'd 
 like to be in at them. I does love narrations of 
 outlandish places, Miss. Oh, my word, and is that 
 the little foreign gentleman ? It is a disappoint 
 ment as I can't 'ear what the young lady's a-telling 
 of." 
 
 " Well, Maggie, you needn't be discontented. 1 
 am not hearing this wonderful story, either. David, 
 what are you nudging me for ? " 
 
 "Send her to walk with George," whispered
 
 A YOUNG QUEEN. 157 
 
 David. " I want to say something to you so badly, 
 Polly." 
 
 Polly frowned. She did not feel particularly in 
 clined to oblige any one just now, but David had a 
 pleading way of his own; he squeezed her arm 
 affectionately, and looked into her face with a world 
 of beseeching in his big black eyes. After all it 
 was no very difficult matter to get at Polly's warm 
 heart. She looked over her shoulder. 
 
 " George, will you give Maggie a seat beside you," 
 she said. " No, none of the rest of us want to drive. 
 Come on, David. Now David, what is it ? " 
 
 " It's about Flower," said David. " She she 
 you don't none of you know Flower yet." 
 
 " Oh, I am not sure of that," replied Polly, speak 
 ing on purpose in a very careless tone. " I suppose 
 she's much like other girls. She's rather pretty, of 
 course, arid has nice ways with her. I made stories 
 about you both, but you're not a bit like anything 
 1 thought of. In some ways you're nicer, in some 
 not so nice. Why, Avhat is the matter, David? 
 What are you staring at me so hard for ? " 
 
 " Because you're all wrong," responded David. 
 "You don't know Flower. She's not like other 
 girls ; not a bit. There were girls at Ballarat, and 
 she wasn't like them. But no one wondered at 
 that, for they were rough, and not like real ladies. 
 And there were girls on board the big ship we came 
 over in, and they weren't rough, but Flower wasn't 
 a bit like them either. And she's not like any of 
 you, Polly, although I'm sure you are nice, and 
 Helen is sweet, and Fly is a little brick. Flower is 
 not like any other girl I have ever seen." 
 
 " She must be an oddity, then," said Polly. " I 
 hate oddities. Do let's walk a little faster, David." 
 
 " You are wrong again," persisted David, quicken-
 
 158 POLLY. 
 
 ing his steps. " An oddity is some one to laugh at, 
 but no one has ever dreamed of laughing at Flower. 
 She is just herself, like no one else in the world. 
 No, you don't any of you know her yet. I suppose 
 you are every one of you thinking that she's the 
 very nicest and cleverest and perfectest girl you 
 ever met?" 
 
 " I'm sure we are not," said Polly ; " I think, for 
 my part, there has been a great deal too much fuss 
 made about her. I'm getting tired of her airs, and 
 I think she was very rude just now." 
 
 "Oh don't, Polly, you frighten me. I want to 
 tell you something so badly. Will you treat it as 
 a great, enormous secret ? will you never reveal it, 
 Polly ? " 
 
 " What a queer boy you are," said Polly. " No, 
 I won't tell. What's the mystery ? " 
 
 "It's this. Flower is sometimes sometimes 
 oh, it's dreadful to have to tell ! Flower is some 
 times not nice." 
 
 Polly's eyes danced. 
 
 " You're a darling, David ! " she said. " Of course, 
 that sister of yours is not perfect. I'd hate her if 
 she was." 
 
 " But it isn't that," said David. It's so difficult 
 to tell. When Flower isn't nice, it's not a small 
 thing, it's oh, she's awful ! Polly, I don't want any 
 of you ever to see Flower in a passion; you'd be 
 frightened, oh, you would indeed. We were all 
 dreadfully unhappy at Ballarat when Flower was in 
 a passion, and lately we tried not to get her into 
 one. That's what I want you to do, Polly ; I want 
 you to try; I want you to see that she is not 
 vexed." 
 
 " I like that," said Polly. " Am I to be on my 
 ' P's and Q's, for this Miss Flower of yours ? Now,
 
 ( A YOtTNG QtTEEK. 
 
 David, what do you mean by a great passion ? I'm 
 rather hot myself. Come, you saw me very cross 
 about the lemonade yesterday; is Flower worse 
 than that ? What fun it must be to see her ! " 
 
 " Don't ! " said David, turning pale. " You wouldn't 
 speak in that way, Polly, if you knew. What you 
 did yesterday like Flower ? Why, I didn't notice 
 
 you at all. Flower's passions are are But I 
 
 can't speak of them, Polly." 
 
 "Then why did you tell me?" said Polly. "I 
 can't help her getting into rages, if she's so silly." 
 
 " Oh yes you can, and that's why I spoke to you. 
 She's a little vexed now, about your having brought 
 the the kitchen-maid here. I know well she's 
 vexed, because she's extra polite with every one 
 else. That's a way she has at first. I don't suppose 
 she'll speak to you, Polly ; but oh, Polly, I will love 
 you so much, I'll do anything in all the world for 
 you, if only you'll send Maggie home ! " 
 
 "What are you dreaming of?" said Polly. 
 "Because Flower is an ill-tempered, proud, silly 
 girl, am I to send poor little Maggie away ? No, 
 David, if your sister has a bad temper, she must 
 learn to control it. She is living in England now, 
 and she must put up with our English ways ; we 
 are always kind to our servants." 
 
 Then it can't be helped," said David. You'll 
 remember that I warned you you'll be sorry after 
 wards ! Hullo, Flower yes, Flower, I'm coming." 
 
 He flew from Polly's side, going boldly over to 
 what the little girl was now pleased to call the 
 ranks of the enemy. She felt sorry for a moment, 
 for Firefly had long since deserted her. Then she 
 retraced her steps, and walked by Maggie's side for 
 the rest of the time.
 
 160 K>LLY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NOT LIKE OTHEBS. 
 
 IT was still early when the children reached 
 Troublous Times Castle. Dr. Maybright would not 
 be likely to join them for nearly an hour. They 
 had walked fast, and Polly, at least, felt both tired 
 and cross. When the twins ran up to her and 
 assured her with much enthusiasm that they had 
 never had a more delightful walk, she turned from 
 them with a little muttered "Pshaw!" Polly's 
 attentions now to Maggie were most marked, and 
 if this young person were not quite one of the most 
 obtuse in existence, it is possible she might have 
 felt slightly embarrassed. 
 
 While we're waiting for father," exclaimed Polly, 
 speaking aloud, and in that aggressive tone which 
 had not been heard from her lips since the night of 
 the supper in the attic " while we're waiting foi 
 father we'll get the banqueting -hall ready. Maggie 
 and I will see to this, but any one who likes to join 
 us can. We don't require any assistance, but if it 
 gives pleasure to any of the others to see us unpack 
 the baskets, now is the time for them to say the 
 word." 
 
 " But, of course, we're all going to get the dinner 
 ready," exclaimed Dolly and Katie, in voices of con 
 sternation. " What a ridiculous way you are talk 
 ing, Polly ! This is all our affair : half the fun is 
 getting the dinner ready. Isn't it, Nell ? "
 
 NOT LIKE OTHERS. 
 
 "Yes, of course," said Helen, in her pleasant, 
 bright voice. " We'll all do as much as we can do 
 to make the banqueting-hall ready for father. Now, 
 let's get George to take the hampers there at once ; 
 and, Flower, I thought, perhaps, you would help me 
 to touch up the creepers here and there, they do look 
 so lovely falling over that ruined west window. 
 Come, Flower, now let's all of us set to work with 
 out any more delay." 
 
 " Yes, Flower, and you know you have such a way 
 of making things look sweet," said David, taking his 
 sister's hand and kissing it. 
 
 She put her arm carelessly round his neck, stooped 
 down, and pressed her lips to his brow, then said 
 in that light, arch tone, which she had used all day. 
 " David is mistaken. I can't make things look sweet, 
 and I'm not coming to the banqueting-hall at 
 present," 
 
 There was a pointed satire in the two last words. 
 Flower's big blue eyes rested carelessly on Maggie, 
 then they traveled to where Polly stood, and a fine 
 scorn curled her short, sensitive upper lip. The 
 words she had used were nothing, but her expressive 
 glance meant a good deal. Polly refused to see the 
 world of entreaty on David's face she threw down 
 her challenge with equal scorn and a good deal of 
 comic dignity. 
 
 "It's a very good thing, then, you're not coming 
 to the banqueting-hall, Flower," she said. " For we 
 don't want people there who have no taste. I sup 
 pose it's because you are an Australian, for in Eng 
 land even the cottagers know a little about how to 
 make picnics look pretty. Maggie is a cottager at 
 present, as she's out of a situation, so it's lucky we've 
 brought her. Now, as every one else wants to come, 
 let them, and don't let's waste any more time, or
 
 162 POLLY. 
 
 when father comes, we really will have nothing ready 
 for him to eat." 
 
 " Very well," said Flower. " Then I shall take a 
 walk by myself. I wish to be by myself. No, David, 
 you are not to come with me, I forbid it." 
 
 For a quarter of a second a queer steely light filled 
 her blue eyes. David shrank from her glance, and 
 followed the rest of the party down a flight of steps 
 which led also into the old banqueting-hall. 
 
 "You've done it now," he whispered to Polly. 
 "You'll be very, very sorry by-and-by, and you'll 
 remember then that I warned you." 
 
 " I really think you're the most tiresome boy," said 
 Polly. " You want to make mysteries out of noth 
 ing. I don't see that Flower is particularly passion 
 ate ; she's a little bit sarcastic, and she likes to say 
 nasty, scathing things, but you don't suppose I mind 
 her ! She'll soon come to her senses when she sees 
 that we are none of us petting her, or bowing down 
 to her. I expect that you and your father have 
 spoiled that Flower of yours over in Ballarat." 
 
 " You don't know Flower a bit," responded David. 
 "I warned you. You'll remember that presently. 
 Flower not passionate ! Why, she was white with 
 passion when she went away. Well, you wait and 
 see." 
 
 "I wish you'd stop talking," responded Polly, 
 crossly. "We'll never have things ready if you 
 chatter so, and try to perplex me. There's poor Fly 
 almost crying over that big hamper. Please, David, 
 g*> und help her to get the knives, and forks, and 
 glasses out, and don't break any glasses, for we're 
 always fined if we break glasses at picnics." 
 
 David moved away slowly. He was an active 
 little fellow as a rule, but now there seemed to be a 
 weight over him. The vivaciousness had left his
 
 NOT LIKE OTHERS. 163 
 
 handsome, dark little face ; once he turned round 
 and looked at Polly with a volume of reproach in his 
 eyes. 
 
 She would not meet his eyes, she was "bending 
 over her own hamper, and was laughing and chat 
 ting gaily with every one who came within her reach. 
 The moment Flower's influence was removed Polly 
 became once more the ringleader of all the fun. 
 Once more she was appealed to, her advice asked, 
 her directions followed. She could not help admit 
 ting to herself that she liked the change, and for the 
 first time a conscious feeling of active dislike to 
 Flower took possession of her. What right had this 
 strange girl to come and take the lead in everything ? 
 No, she was neither yery pretty nor very agreeable ; 
 she was a conceited, ill-tempered, proud creature, 
 and it was Polly's duty, of course it was Polly's 
 duty, to see that she was not humored. Was there 
 anything so unreasonable and monstrous as her dis 
 like to poor little Maggie? Poor little harmless 
 Maggie, who had never done her an ill-turn in her 
 life. Really David had been too absurd when he 
 proposed that Maggie should be sent home. David 
 was a nice boy enough, but he was not to suppose 
 that every one was to bow down to his Queen 
 Flower. Ridiculous ! let her go into passions if she 
 liked, she would soon be tamed and brought to her 
 senses when she had been long enough in England. 
 
 Polly worked herself up into quite a genuine little 
 temper of her own, as she thought, and she now re 
 solved, simply and solely for the purpose of teasing 
 Flower, that Maggie should dine with them all, and 
 have a seat of honor near herself. When she had 
 carelessly thought of her coming to the picnic, she, 
 of course, like all the others, had intended that 
 Maggie and George should eat their dinner together
 
 164 POLLY. 
 
 after the great meal was over; and even Helen 
 shook her head now when Polly proposed in her 
 bright audacious way that Maggie should sit near 
 her, in one of the best positions, where she could see 
 the light flickering through the ivy, which nearly 
 covered the beautiful west window. 
 
 " As you like, of course, Polly," responded Helen. 
 " But I do think it is putting Maggie a little out of 
 her place. Perhaps father won't like it, and I'm sure 
 Flower won't." 
 
 "I'll ask father myself, when he arrives," an 
 swered Polly, choosing to ignore the latter part of 
 Helen's speech. 
 
 The banqueting-hall, which was a perfect ruin at 
 one end, was still covered over at the other. And it 
 was in this portion, full of picturesque half-lights 
 and fascinating dark corners, that the children had 
 laid out their repast. The west window was more, 
 than fifty feet distant. It was nearly closed in with 
 an exquisite tracery of ivy ; but as plenty of light 
 poured into the ruin from the open sky overhead, 
 this mattered very little, and but added to the gen 
 eral effect. The whole little party were very busy, 
 and no one worked harder than Polly, and no one's 
 laugh was more merry. Now and then, it is true, 
 an odd memory and a queer sensation of failure 
 came over her. Was she really really to-day, at 
 least trying to climb successfully the highest 
 mountain ? She stifled the little voice speaking in 
 her heart, delighted her brothers and sisters, and 
 even caused a smile to play round David's grave lips 
 as she made one witty remark after another. Fire 
 fly in particular was in ecstasies with her beloved 
 sister, and when the Doctor at last appeared on the 
 scene the fun was at its height. 
 
 The moment he entered the banqueting-hall Polly
 
 NOT LIKE OTHERS. 165 
 
 went up to him, put on her archest and most plead 
 ing expression, and said in a tone of inquiry 
 
 " It's all so delightful, and such a treat for her. 
 And you don't mind, do you, father ? " 
 
 "I don't know that I mind anything at this 
 moment, Polly, for I am hungry, and your viands 
 look tempting of the tempting. Unless you bid me 
 not to come to the feast, I shall quarrel with no 
 other suggestion." 
 
 " Oh ! you darlingest of fathers ; then you won't be 
 angry if poor Maggie sits next me, and has her dinner 
 with us '? She is a little afraid of the moor, and I 
 wanted to cure her, so I brought her to-day, and she 
 will be so happy if she can sit next me at dinner." 
 
 " Put her where you please, my dear ; we are not 
 sitting on forms or standing on ceremony at present. 
 And now to dinner, to dinner, children, for I must 
 be off again in an hour." 
 
 No one noticed, not even David, that while the 
 Doctor was speaking a shadow stole up and re 
 mained motionless by the crumbling stairs of the 
 old banqueting-hall : no one either saw when it 
 glided away. Polly laughed, and almost shouted ; 
 every one, Flower excepted, took their places as best 
 they could on the uneven floor of the hall ; the 
 white table-cloth was spread neatly in the middle. 
 Every one present was exceedingly uncomfortable 
 physically, and yet each person expressed him or 
 herself in tones of rapture, and said never was such 
 food eaten, or such a delightful dinner served. 
 
 For a long time Flower was not even missed ; then 
 David's grave face attracted the Doctor's attention. 
 
 " What is the matter, my lad ? " he said. " Have 
 you a headache ? Don't you enjoy this alfresco sort 
 of entertainment ? And, by the way, I don't see
 
 your sister. Helen, my dear, do you know where 
 Flower is ? Did not she come with you ? " 
 
 " Of course she did, father : how stupid and care 
 less of me never to have missed her." 
 
 Helen jumped up from the tailor-like position she 
 was occupying on the floor. 
 
 " Flower said she would take a little walk," she 
 continued. " And I must say I forgot all about her. 
 She ought to have been back ages ago." 
 
 " Flower went by herself for a walk oii the moor ! " 
 echoed the Doctor. " But that isn't safe ; she may 
 lose her way, or get frightened. Why did you let 
 her go, children ? " 
 
 No one answered ; a little cloud seemed to have 
 fallen on the merry party. Polly again had a pin 
 prick of uneasiness in her heart, and a vivid recollec 
 tion of the highest mountain which she was certainly 
 not trying to climb. 
 
 The Doctor said he would go at once to look for 
 Flower. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. 
 
 DAVID was quite right when he said his sister 
 was not like other girls. There was a certain ele 
 ment of wildness in her; she had sweet man 
 ners, a gracious bearing, an attractive face ; but in 
 some particulars she was untamed. Never had 
 that terrible strong temper of hers been curbed. 
 More than one of the servants in the old home at 
 Ballarat had learnt to dread it. When Flower 
 stormed, her father invariably left home, and David 
 shut himself up in his own room. Her mother, an 
 affectionate but not particularly strong-minded wo-
 
 A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. 167 
 
 man, alone possessed sufficient fcourage to approach 
 the storm-tossed little fury. Mrs. Dalrymple had 
 a certain power of soothing the little girl, but even 
 she never attempted to teach the child the smallest 
 lesson of self-control. 
 
 This unchecked, unbridled temper grew and 
 strengthened with Flower's growth. When under 
 its influence she was a transformed being, and David 
 had good reasons to be afraid of her. 
 
 In addition to an ungovernable temper, Flower 
 was' proud ; she possessed the greatest pride of all, 
 that of absolute ignorance. She believed firmly in 
 caste ; had she lived in olden days in America, she 
 would have been a very cruel mistress of slaves. 
 Yet with it all Flower had an affectionate heart ; 
 she was generous, loyal, but she was so thoroughly 
 a spoiled and untrained creature that her good 
 qualities were nearly lost under the stronger sway 
 of her bad ones. 
 
 After her mother's death Flower had fretted so 
 much that she had grown shadowy and ill. It was 
 then her father conceived the idea of sending her 
 and David to an English family to train and educate. 
 He could not manage Flower, he could not educate 
 David. The Maybrights were heard of through a 
 mutual friend, and Flower was reconciled to the 
 thought of leaving the land and home of her birth 
 because she was told she was going to another 
 mother. She dried her eyes at this thought, and 
 was tolerably cheerful during the voyage over. On 
 reaching England the news of Mrs. Maybright's 
 death was broken to her. Again Flower stormed 
 and raged ; she gave poor little David a dreadful 
 night, but in the morning her tears were dried, her 
 smile had returned, and she went down to Sleepy 
 Hollow with the Doctor in fairly good spirits.
 
 168 POLLY. 
 
 The young Maybrights were all on their best be 
 havior Flower was on hers, and until the day of 
 the picnic all went well. 
 
 It did not take a great deal to rouse first the ob 
 stinate pride of this young Australian, and then her 
 unbridled passions. Associate with a servant ? No, 
 that she would never, never do. Show Polly that 
 she approved of her conduct ? Not while her own 
 name was Flower Dalrymple. She let all the other 
 happy children go down to the banqueting-hall 
 without her, and strode away, miserable at heart, 
 choking with rage and fury. 
 
 The Dalrymples were very wealthy people, and 
 Flower's home in Ballarat was furnished with every 
 luxury. Notwithstanding this, the little girl had 
 never been in a truly refined dwelling-house until 
 she took up her abode in old-fashioned Sleepy Hol 
 low. Flower had taken a great fancy to Helen, and 
 she already warmly loved Dr. Maybright. She was 
 wandering over the moor now, a miserable, storm- 
 tossed little personage, when she saw his old-fash 
 ioned gig and white pony " Rowney " approaching. 
 That old gig and the person who sat in it for Dr. 
 Maybright drove himself began to act on the heart 
 of the child with a curious magnetic force. Step by 
 step they caused her to turn, until she reached 
 Troublous Times Castle almost as soon as the 
 Doctor. She did not know why she was coming 
 back, for she had not the remotest idea of yielding 
 her will to Polly's. Still she had a kind of instinct 
 that the Doctor would set things right. By this 
 she meant that he would give her her own way and 
 banish Maggie from the scene of festivity. 
 
 The banqueting-hall at the old castle could be 
 reached by two ways : you might approach it quite 
 easily over the green sward, or you might enter a
 
 A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. 169 
 
 higher part of the castle, and coine to it down 
 broken steps. 
 
 The Doctor chose one way of approaching the 
 scene of the feast, Flower another. She was about 
 to descend when she heard voices : Polly was eagerly 
 asking permission for Maggie to dine with them ; 
 the Doctor, in his easy, genial tones, was giving it to 
 her. That was enough. If Flower had never 
 known before what absolute hatred was like, she 
 knew it now. She hated Polly ; ungovernable pas 
 sion mounted to her brain, filled her eyes, lent wings 
 to her feet ; she turned and fled. 
 
 Although the month was October, it was still very 
 hot in the middle of the day on the open moor. 
 Flower, however, was accustomed to great heat in 
 her native home, and the full rays of the sun did 
 not impede her flight. She was so tall and slight 
 and willowy that she was a splendid runner, but 
 the moor was broken and rough, interspersed here 
 and there with deep bracken, here and there with 
 heather, here and there again with rank clumps of 
 undergrowth. The young girl, half blinded with 
 rage and passion, did not see the sharp points of the 
 rocks or the brambles in her path. Once or twice 
 she fell. After her second fall she was so much 
 bruised and hurt, that she was absolutely forced 
 to sit still in the midst of the yellow and brown 
 bracken. It was in a bristling, withered state, but 
 it still stood thick and high, and formed a kind of 
 a screen all round Flower as she sat in it. S-he took 
 off her cap, and idly fanned her hot face with it ; 
 her yellow head could scarcely be distinguished 
 from the orange and gold tints of the bracken which 
 surrounded her. 
 
 In this way the Doctor, who was now anxiously
 
 170 POLLY. 
 
 looking for Flower, missed her, for he drove slowly 
 \>y, hot a hundred yards from her hiding-place. 
 
 As Flower sat and tried to cool herself, she began 
 to reflect. Her passion was not in the least over ; on 
 the contrary, its most dangerous stage had now be 
 gun. As she thought, there grew up stronger and 
 stronger hi her heart a great hatred for Polly. From 
 the first, Flower had not taken so warmly to Polly 
 as she had done to Helen. The fact was, these girls 
 were in many ways too much alike. Had it been 
 Polly's fate to be born and brought up in Ballarat, 
 she might have been Flower over again. She might 
 have been even worse than Flower, for she was 
 cleverer; on the other hand, had Flower been 
 trained by Polly's wise and loving mother, she 
 might have been a better girl than Polly. 
 
 As it was, however, these two must inevitably 
 clash. They were like two queen bees in the same 
 hive; they each wanted the same place. It only 
 needed a trifle to bring Flower's uneasy, latent feel 
 ing against Polly to perfection. The occasion arose, 
 the match had fired the easily ignited fuel, and 
 Flower sat now and wondered how she could best 
 revenge herself on Polly. 
 
 After a time, stiff and limping, for she had hurt 
 her ankle, she recommenced her walk across the 
 moor. She had not the least idea where her steps 
 were leading her. She was tired, her feet ached, and 
 her great rage had sufficiently cooled to make her 
 remember distinctly that she had eaten no dinner ; 
 still, she plodded on. From the time she had left 
 Troublous Times Castle she had not encountered an 
 individual, but now, as she stepped forward, a man 
 suddenly rose from his lair in the grass and con 
 fronted her. He was a black-eyed, unkempt, uncouth- 
 looking person, and any other girl would have been
 
 A fcOtfNG AUSTRALIA!?. 17J 
 
 Very much afraid of him. He put his arms akimbo, a 
 disagreeable smile crossed his face, and he instantly 
 placed himself in such a position as completely to bar 
 the girl's path. 
 
 An English girl would have turned pale at such 
 an apparition in so lonely a place, but Flower had 
 seen bush men in her day, and did not perceive any 
 thing barbarous or outlandish in the man's appear 
 ance. 
 
 " I'm glad I've met you," she said, in her clear 
 dulcet voice, " for you can tell me where I am. I 
 want to get to Sleepy Hollow, Dr. Maybright's place 
 am I far away ? " 
 
 " Two miles, as the crow flies," responded the man. 
 
 " But I can't go as the crow flies. What is the 
 best way to walk ? Can't you show me ? " 
 
 " No-a. I be sleepy. Have you got a coin about 
 you, Miss?" 
 
 " Money ? No. I left my purse at home. I have 
 not got a watch, either, nor a chain, but I have got 
 a little ring. It is very thin, but it is pure gold, 
 and I am fond of it. I will give it to you if you will 
 take me the very nearest way to Sleepy Hollow." 
 
 The man grinned again. 
 
 " You be a girl ! " he said, in a tone of admiration. 
 " Yes, I'll take you ; come." 
 
 He turned on his heel, shambled on in front, and 
 Flower followed. 
 
 In this manner the two walked for some time. 
 Suddenly they mounted a ridge, and then the man 
 pointed to where the Doctor's house stood, snug 1 in 
 its own enclosure. 
 
 " Thank you," said Flower. 
 
 She took a little twist of gold off her smallest 
 finger, dropped it Into the man's dirty, open palm, 
 and began quickly to descend the ridge hi the direc-
 
 POLLY. 
 
 tion of the Hollow. It was nearly three o'clock when 
 she entered the cool, wide entrance-hall. The house 
 felt still and restful. Flower acknowledged to her 
 self that she was both tired and hungry, but her main 
 idea to revenge herself on Polly was stronger than 
 either fatigue or hunger. She walked into the din 
 ing-room, cut a thick slice from a home-made loaf 
 of bread, broke off a small piece to eat at once, and 
 put the rest into her pocket. A dish of apples stood 
 near ; she helped herself to two, stowed them away 
 with the bread in the capacious pocket of her green 
 cloth dress, and then looked around her. She had 
 got to Polly's home, but how was she to accomplish 
 her revenge ? How strike Polly through her most 
 vulnerable point ? 
 
 She walked slowly upstairs, meditating as she 
 went. Her own little bower-like room stood open ; 
 she entered it. Polly's hands had been mainly in 
 strumental in giving choice touches to this room ; 
 Polly's favorite blue vase stood filled with flowers 
 on the dressing-table, and a lovely photograph of the 
 Sistine Madonna which belonged to Polly hung over 
 the mantelpiece. Flower did not look at any of these 
 things. She unlocked a small drawer in a dainty 
 inlaid cabinet, which she had brought with her from 
 Ballarat, took out two magnificent diamond rings, a 
 little watch set with jewels, and a small purse, very 
 dainty in itself, but which only held a few shillings. 
 She put all these treasures into a small black velvet 
 bag, fastened the bag round her neck by a narrow 
 gold chain, and then leaving her room, stood once 
 more in a contemplative attitude on the landing. 
 
 She was ready now for flight herself, for when 
 she had revenged herself on Polly, she must cer 
 tainly fly. But how should she accomplish her re 
 venge ? what should she do? She thought hard.
 
 A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. 173 
 
 She knew she had but little time, for the Doctor 
 and the children might return at any moment. 
 
 In the distance she heard the merry laugh of 
 Polly's little sister, Pearl. Flower suddenly colored, 
 her eyes brightened, and she said to herself, 
 
 " That is a good idea ; I will go and have a talk 
 with Nurse. I can find out somehow from Nurse 
 what Polly likes best." 
 
 She ran at once to the nurseries. 
 
 "My dear Miss Flower," exclaimed Nurse. 
 " Why, wherever have you been, Miss ? I thought 
 you was with the others. Well ! you do look tired 
 and fagged." 
 
 "I have walked home," said Flower, carelessly. 
 " I didn't care to be out so long ; picnics are noth' 
 ing to me ; I'm accustomed to that sort of thing on 
 a big scale at Ballarat, you know. I walked home, 
 and then I thought I'd have a chat with you, if you 
 didn't mind." 
 
 " For sure, dear. Sit you down in that easy chair, 
 Miss Flower ; and would you like to hold baby for a 
 bit? Isn't she sweet to-day? I must say I never 
 saw a more knowing child for her age." 
 
 " She is very pretty," said Flower, carelessly. 
 " But I don't think I'll hold her, Nurse. I'm not 
 accustomed to babies, and I'm afraid she might 
 break or something. Do you know I never had a 
 baby in my arms in my life ? I don't remember 
 David when he was tiny. No, I never saw anything 
 so young and soft and tiny as this little Pearl ; she 
 is very pretty." 
 
 " Eh, dear lamb," said Nurse, squeezing the baby 
 to her heart, " she's the very sweetest of the sweet. 
 Now you surprise me, Miss Flower, for I'd have said 
 yon'd be took up tremendous with babies, you has 
 them winsome ways. Why, look at the little dear,
 
 174 POLLY. 
 
 she's laughing even now to see you. She quite 
 takes to you, Miss the same as she does to Miss 
 Polly." 
 
 " She takes to Polly, does she ? " said Flower. 
 
 " Take to her ? I should say so, Miss ; and as to 
 Miss Polly, she just worships baby. Two or three 
 times a day she comes into the nursery, and many 
 and many a time she coaxes me to let her bath her. 
 The fact is, Miss Flower, we was all in a dreadful 
 taking about Miss Polly when her mamma died. 
 She was quite in a stunned sort of state, and it was 
 baby here brought her round. Ever since then our 
 little Miss Pearl has been first of all with Miss 
 Polly." 
 
 " Give her to me," said Flower, in a queer, changed 
 voice. "I've altered my mind I'd like to hold her. 
 See, is she not friendly ? Yes, baby, kiss me, baby, 
 with your pretty mouth. Does she not coo isn't 
 she perfect ? You are quite right, Nurse. I do like 
 to hold her, very much indeed." 
 
 " I said she'd take to you, Miss," said Nucee, in a 
 gratified voice. 
 
 " So she does, and I take to her. Nurse, I wonder 
 if you'd do something for me ? " 
 
 " Of course I will, my dear." 
 
 " I am so awfully hungry. Would you go down 
 to the kitchen and choose a nice little dinner for 
 me?" 
 
 " I'll ring the bell, Miss Dalrymple. Alice shall 
 bring it to you on a tray here, if you've a mind to eat 
 it in the nursery." 
 
 " But I do want you to choose something ; do go 
 yourself, and find something dainty. Do, nursie, 
 please nursie. I want to be spoiled a little bit ; no 
 one ever spoils me now that my mamma is dead." 
 
 ** Bless the child ! " said good-natured and im-
 
 FORSAKEN. 175 
 
 suspicious Nurse. " Of course I'll go, if you put it 
 that way, Missy. Well, take care of baby, Miss 
 Flower. Don't attempt to carry her; hold her 
 steady with your arm firm round her back. I'll 
 bring you your dinner in ten minutes at latest, 
 Miss." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FORSAKEN. 
 
 THE moment Nurse's footsteps died away Flower 
 sprang to her feet, snatched up a white wool shawl, 
 which lay over the baby's cot, wrapped it round 
 her, and flew downstairs with the little creature in 
 her arms. 
 
 Out through a side door which stood open ran 
 Flower, down by the shrubbery, over the stile, and 
 in a few moments she was out again on the wide, 
 wild, lonely moor with Polly's pet pressed close to 
 her beating heart. Long before Nurse had re 
 turned to the nursery Flower had reached the moor, 
 and when poor, distracted Nurse discovered her loss, 
 Flower had wriggled herself into the middle of a 
 clump of young oak-trees, and was fondling and pet 
 ting little Pearl, who sat upright on her knee. From 
 her hiding-place Flower could presently hear foot 
 steps and voices, but none of them came near her, 
 and for the present baby was contented, and did 
 not cry. After a time the footsteps moved further 
 off, and Flower peeped from her shelter. 
 
 " Now, baby, come on," she said. She wrapped 
 the shawl again firmly round the little one, and 
 started with a kind of trotting motion over the out 
 skirts of the moor. She was intensely excited, and
 
 176 POLLY. 
 
 her cheeks were flushed with the first delicious glow 
 of victory. Oh, how sorry Polly would be now for 
 having attempted to oppose her. Yes, Polly would 
 know now that Flower Dalrymple was not a person 
 to be trifled with. 
 
 She was really a strong girl, though she had a 
 peculiarly fragile look. The weight of the three 
 months' old baby was not very great, and for a time 
 she made quite rapid progress. After she had 
 walked about a mile she stood still to consider and 
 to make her plans. No more ignorant girl in all 
 England could perhaps be found than this same poor 
 silly, revengeful Flower ; but even she, with all her 
 ideas Australian, and her knowledge of English life 
 and ways simply null and void, even she knew that 
 the baby could not live for a long time without food 
 and shelter on the wide common land which lay 
 around. She did not mean to steal baby for always, 
 but she thought she would keep her for a month or 
 two, until Polly was well frightened and repentant, 
 and then she would send her back by some kind, 
 motherly woman whom she was sure to come across. 
 As to herself, she had fully made up her mind never 
 again to enter the doors of Sleepy Hollow, for it 
 would be impossible for her, she felt, to associate 
 with any people who had sat down to dinner with 
 the kitchen-maid. Holding the baby firmly hi her 
 arms, Flower stood and hesitated. The warm fleecy 
 white shawl sheltered little Pearl from all cold, 
 and for the present she slept peacefully. 
 
 " I must try and find some town," thought Flower. 
 " I must walk to some town the nearest, I suppose 
 . with baby. Then I will sell one of my rings, and 
 try to get a nice woman to give me a lodging. If 
 she is a motherly person and I shall certainly look 
 out for some one that is I can give her little Pearl
 
 FORSAKEN. 
 
 when I get tired of her, and she can take her back 
 to Sleepy Hollow. But I won't give Pearl up for 
 the present ; for, in the first place she amuses me, 
 and hi the next I wish Polly to be well punished. 
 Now I wonder which is the nearest way to the town ? 
 If I were at Ballarat, I should know quickly enough 
 by the signposts placed at intervals all over the 
 country, but they don't seem to have anything of the 
 sort here in barbarous England. Now, how shall I 
 get to the nearest town without meeting any one 
 who would be likely to tell Dr. May bright ? " 
 
 Flower had scarcely expressed herself in this 
 fashion before once again the rough-looking man 
 crossed her path. She greeted him quite joyfully. 
 
 " Oh ! you're just the person I want," she ex 
 claimed. " I've got my purse now, and a little money 
 in it. "Would you like to earn a shilling ? " 
 
 " Surety," said the man. " But I'd a sight rather 
 'arn two," he added. 
 
 " I'll give you two. I have not got much money, 
 but I'll certainly give you two shillings if you'll help 
 me now. I have got a little baby here a dear little 
 baby, but she's rather heavy. I am running away 
 with her to revenge myself on somebody. I don't 
 mind telling you that, for you look like an outlaw 
 yourself, and you'll sympathize with me. I want 
 you to carry baby for me, and to take us both to the 
 nearest town. Do you hear ? Will you do it ? " 
 
 " Sure-Jy," said the man, favoring Flower with a 
 long, peculiar glance. 
 
 " Well, here's baby ; you must be very careful of 
 her. I'll give you three shillings after you have taken 
 her and me to the nearest town ; and if you are really 
 kind, and walk quickly, and take us to a nice restau 
 rant where I can have a good dinner for I am 
 awfully hungry you shall have something to eat
 
 178 POLLY. 
 
 yourself as well. Now walk on in front of me, please, 
 and don't waste any more time, for it would be 
 dreadful if we were discovered." 
 
 The man shambled on at once in front of Flower ; 
 his strong arms supported little Pearl comfortably, 
 and she slumbered on in an unbroken dream. 
 
 The bright sunlight had now faded, the short 
 October day was drawing in, the glory and heat of 
 the morning had long departed, and Flower, whose 
 green cloth dress was very light in texture, felt her 
 self shivering in the sudden cold. 
 
 " Are you certain you are going to the nearest 
 town ? " she called out to the man. 
 
 " Sure-Jy," he responded back to her. He was 
 stepping along at a swinging pace, and Flower was 
 very tired, and found it difficult to keep up with 
 him. Having begged of him so emphatically to 
 hurry, she did not like to ask him now to moderate 
 his steps. To keep up with him at all she had al 
 most to run ; and she was now not only hungry, 
 cold, and tired, but the constant quick motion took 
 her breath away. They had left the border of the 
 moor, and were now in the middle of a most desolate 
 piece of country. As Flower looked around her she 
 shivered with the first real sensation of loneliness 
 she had ever known. The moor seemed to fill the 
 whole horizon. Desolate moor and lowering sky 
 there seemed to be nothing else in all the world. 
 
 " Where is the nearest town ? " she gasped at last. 
 " Oh, what a long, long way off it is ! " 
 
 " It's miles away ! " said the man, suddenly stop 
 ping and turning round fiercely upon her ; " but ef 
 you're hungry, there's a hut yer to the left where 
 my mother lives. She'll give you a bit of supper 
 and a rest, ef so be as you can pay her well." 
 
 "Oh, yes, I can pay her," responded Flower. The
 
 FORSAKEN. 179 
 
 thought of any shelter or any food was grateful to 
 the fastidious girl now. 
 
 " I am very hungry and very tired," she said. I 
 will gladly rest in your mother's cottage. Where 
 is it ? " 
 
 " I said as it wor a hut. There are two dawgs 
 there : be you afeard ? " 
 
 " Of dogs ? I am not afraid of any thing ! " said 
 Flower, curling her short lip disdainfully. 
 
 " You be a girl ! " responded the man. He sham 
 bled on again in front, and presently they came in 
 sight of the deserted hermit's hut, where Polly and 
 Maggie a few weeks before had been led captive. 
 A woman was standing in the doorway, and by her 
 side, sitting up on their haunches, were two ugly, 
 lean-looking dogs. 
 
 " Down, Cinder and Flinder ! " said the woman. 
 " Down, you brutes ! Now, Patrick, what have you 
 been up to ? Whatever's that in your arms, and 
 who's a-follering of yer?" 
 
 " This yer's a babby," said the man, " and this 
 yer's a girl. She," pointing to Flower, " wants to 
 be took to the nearest town, and she have money to 
 pay, she says." 
 
 " Oh ! she have money to pay ? " said the wife of 
 Micah Jones for it was she. " Them as has money 
 to pay is oilers and oilers welcome. Come in, and 
 set you down by the fire, hinney. Well, well, and 
 so you has brought a babby with you ! Give it to 
 me, Pat. What do you know, you great hulking 
 feller ! about the tending of babbies ? " 
 
 The man gladly relinquished his charge, then 
 pointed backwards with his finger at Flower. 
 
 " She's cold and 'ungry, and she has money to 
 pay," he said. 
 
 f* Come in, then, Missy, come in ; yer's a good fire,
 
 180 POLLY. 
 
 and a hunk of cheese, and some brown bread, and 
 there'll be soup by-and-by. Yes," winking at her 
 son, " there'll be good strong soup by-and-by." 
 
 Flower, who had come up close to the threshold 
 of the hut, now drew back a step or two. At sight 
 of the woman her courage had revived, hsr feeling of 
 extreme loneliness had vanished, and a good deal 
 of the insolence which of ten marked her bearing had 
 in consequence returned to her. 
 
 " I won't go in," she said. " It looks dirty in 
 there, and I hate dirt. No, I won't go in ! Bring 
 me some food out here, please. Of course I'll pay 
 you." 
 
 " Highty-tighty ! " said the woman. " And is 
 wee babby to stay out in the cold night air ? " 
 
 " I forgot about the baby," said Flower. " Gire 
 her to me. Is the night air bad for babies'?" she 
 asked, looking up inquiringly at the great rough 
 woman who stood by her side. 
 
 Flower's utter and fearless indifference to even 
 the possibility of danger had much the same effect 
 on Mrs. Jones that it had upon her son. They both 
 owned to a latent feeling of uneasiness in her pres 
 ence. Had she showed the least trace of fear ; had 
 she dreaded them, or tried in any way to soften 
 them, they would have known how to manage her. 
 But Flower addressed them much as she would 
 have done menials in her kitchen at home. The 
 mother, as well as the son, muttered under her 
 breath " Never see'd such a gel ! " She dropped 
 the baby into Flower's outstretched arms, and an 
 swered her query in a less surly tone than usual. 
 
 " For sure night air is bad for babes, and this 
 little 'un is young. Yes, werry young and purty." 
 
 The woman pulled aside the white fluffy shawl ;
 
 FORSAKEN. 181 
 
 two soft clear brown eyes looked up at her, and a 
 little mouth was curved to a radiant smile. 
 
 " For sure she's purty," said the woman. " Look, 
 Patrick. She minds me o' Well, never mind. 
 Missy, it ain't good for a babe like that to be out in 
 the night air. You're best in the house, and so is 
 the babe. The dawgs shan't touch yer. Come into 
 the house, and I'll give yer what supper's going, 
 and the babe, pretty crittur, shall have a drink of 
 milk." 
 
 " I would not injure the baby," said Flower. She 
 held both arms firmly round it, and entered the 
 smoky, dismal hut. 
 
 The wife of Micah Jones moved a stool in front of 
 the fire, pushed Flower rather roughly down on it, 
 and then proceeded to cut a thick hunch of sour 
 bread and cheese. This was quite the coarsest food 
 Flower had ever eaten, and yet she never thought 
 anything more delicious. While she ate the woman 
 sat down opposite her. 
 
 "I'll take the babe now and feed it," she said. 
 " The pretty dear must be hungry." 
 
 It was not little Pearl's way to cry. It was her 
 fashion to look tranquilly into all faces, and to take 
 calmly every event, whether adverse or otherwise. 
 When she looked at Flower she smiled, and she 
 smiled again into the face of the rough woman who, 
 in consequence, fed her tenderly with the best she 
 had to give. 
 
 " Is the soup done ? " said the rough man, suddenly 
 coming forward. " It's soup I'm arter. It's soup 
 as'll put life into Miss, and give her a mind to walk 
 them miles to the nearest town." 
 
 The woman laughed back at her son. 
 
 " The soup's in the pot," she said. " You can give 
 it a stir, Pat, if you will. Nathaniel will be in by-
 
 182 POLLY. 
 
 and-by, and he'll want his share. But you can take 
 a bowl now, if you like, and give one to Missy." 
 
 " Ay," said the man, " soup's good ; puts life into 
 a body." 
 
 He fetched two little yellow bowls, filled, one for 
 Flower, stirring it first with a pewter spoon. 
 
 " This'll put life into you, Miss," he said. 
 
 He handed the bowl of soup to the young girl. 
 All this time the woman was bending over the baby. 
 Suddenly she raised her head. 
 
 " 'Tis a bonny babe," she said. " Ef I was you, 
 Pat, I wouldn't stir Missy's soup. I'd give her your 
 own bowl. I has no quarrel with Miss, and the babe 
 is fair. Give her your own soup, Patrick." 
 
 " It's all right, mother, Miss wouldn't eat as much 
 as is in my bowl. You ain't 'ungry enough for 
 that, be you, Miss ? " 
 
 " I am very hungry," said Flower, who was grate 
 fully drinking the hot liquid. " I could not touch 
 this food if I was not very hungry. If I want more 
 soup I suppose I can have some more from the pot 
 where this was taken. What is the matter, woman ? 
 What are you staring at me for ? " 
 
 " I think nought at all of you," said the woman, 
 frowning, and drawing back, for Flower's tone was 
 very rude. " But the babe is bonny. Here, take 
 her back, she's like but never mind. You'll be 
 sleepy, may-be, and 'ud like to rest a bit. I meant 
 yer no harm, but Patrick's powerful, and he and Nat, 
 they does what they likes. They're the sons of 
 Micah Jones, and he was a strong man in his day. 
 You'd like to sleep, may-be, Missy. Here, Patrick, 
 take the bowl from the girl's hand." 
 
 " I do feel very drowsy," said Flower. " I sup 
 pose it is from being out all day. This hut is smoky 
 and dirty, but I'll just have a doze for five minutes.
 
 FORSAKEN. 183 
 
 Please, Patrick, wake me at the end of five minutes, 
 for I must, whatever happens, reach the nearest 
 town before night." 
 
 As Flower spoke her eyes closed, and the woman, 
 laying her back on some straw, put the baby into 
 her arms. 
 
 " She'll sleep sound, pretty dear," she said. " Ef 
 I was you I wouldn't harm her, just for the sake of 
 the babe," she concluded. 
 
 " Why, mother, what's took you ? I won't hurt 
 Missy. It's her own fault ef she runs away, and 
 steals the baby. That baby belongs to the doctor 
 what lives in the Hollow ; it's nought special, and 
 you needn't be took up with it. Ah, here comes 
 Nathaniel. Nat, I've found a lass wandering on the 
 moor, and I brought her home, and now the mother 
 don't want us to share the booty." 
 
 Nathaniel Jones was a man of very few words 
 indeed. He had a fiercer, wilder eye than his 
 brother, and his evidently was the dominant and 
 ruling spirit. 
 
 " The moon's rising," he said ; " she'll be at her 
 full in half, an hour. Do your dooty, mother, for we 
 must be out of this, bag and baggage, in half an 
 hour." 
 
 Without a word or a sigh, or even a glance of re 
 morse, Mrs. Jones took the cap from Flower's head, 
 and feeling around her neck discovered the gold 
 chain which held the little bag of valuables. With 
 out opening this she slipped it into her pocket. 
 Flower's dainty shoes were then removed, and the 
 woman looked covetously at the long, fine, cloth 
 dress, but shook her head over it. 
 
 " I'd wake her if I took it," she said. 
 
 " No, you wouldn't, I drugged the soup well," said 
 Pat
 
 184 POLLY. 
 
 " Well, anyhow, I'll leave her her dress. There's 
 nought more but a handkerchief with a bit of lace 
 on it." 
 
 " Take the baby's shawl," said Nathaniel, " and 
 let us be off. If the moon goes down we won't see 
 the track. Here, mother, I'll help myself to the 
 wrap." 
 
 " No, you won't," said the woman. " You don't 
 touch the babe with the pale face and the smile of 
 Heaven. I'm ready ; let's go." 
 
 The dogs were called, and the entire party strode 
 in single file along a narrow path, which led away in 
 a westerly direction over Peg-Top Moor. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 WITHOUT HER TKEASUEE. 
 
 " THERE is a great fuss made about it all," said 
 Polly. 
 
 This was her remark when her father left the 
 pleasant picnic dinner and drove away over the moor 
 in search of Flower. 
 
 " There is a great fuss made over it all. What is 
 Flower more than any other girl ? Why should she 
 rule us all, and try to make things uncomfortable 
 for us ? No, David, you need not look at me like 
 that. If Flower has got silly Australian notions in 
 her head, she had better get rid of them as fast as 
 possible. She is living with English people now, and 
 English people all the world over won't put up with 
 nonsense." 
 
 "It isn't Flower's ways I mean," said David. 
 tt Her ways and her thoughts aren't much, but it's
 
 WITHOUT HER TREASURE. 185 
 
 it's when she gets into a passion. There's no use 
 talking about it you have done it now, Polly ! but 
 Flower's passions are awful." 
 
 David's eyes filled slowly with tears. 
 
 " Oh, you are a cry-baby," said Polly. She knew 
 she was making herself disagreeable all round. In 
 her heart she admired and even loved David ; but 
 nothing would induce her to say she was sorry for 
 any part she had taken in Flower's disappearance. 
 
 " Everything is as tiresome as possible," she said, 
 addressing her special ally, Maggie. " There, Mag, 
 you need not stare at me. Your brain will get as 
 small as ever again if you don't take care, and I know 
 staring in that stupid way you have is particularly 
 weakening to the brain. You had better help George 
 to pack up, for I suppose Nell is right, and we must 
 all begin to think of getting home. Oh, dear, what 
 a worry it is to have to put up with the whims of 
 other people. Yes, I understand at last why father 
 hesitated to allow the strangers to come here." 
 
 " I wouldn't grumble any more, if I were you, 
 Polly," said Helen. "See how miserable David 
 looks. I do hope father will soon find Flower. I 
 did not know that David was so very fond of 
 her." 
 
 " David is nervous," retorted Polly, shortly. Then 
 she turned to and packed in a vigorous manner, and 
 very soon after the little party started on their return 
 walk home. It was decidedly a dull walk. Polly's 
 gay spirits were fitful and forced ; the rest of the 
 party did not attempt to enjoy themselves. David 
 lagged quite behind the others ; and poor Maggie con 
 fided to George that somehow or other, she could not 
 tell why, they were all turning their eyes reproach 
 ful like on her. The sun had gone in now in the 
 heavens, and the children, who had no sunshine i*
 
 186 POLLY. 
 
 their hearts just then, had a vivid consciousness that 
 it was late autumn, and that the summer was quite 
 at an end. 
 
 As they neared the rise in the moor which hid 
 Sleepy Hollow from view, David suddenly changed 
 his position from the rear to the van. As they ap 
 proached the house he stooped down, picked up a 
 small piece of paper, looked at it, uttered a cry of 
 fear and recognition, and ran off as fast as ever he 
 could to the house. 
 
 " What a queer boy David is ! " was on Polly's 
 lips ; but she could scarcely say the words before he 
 came out again. His face was deadly white, he 
 shook all over, and the words he tried to say only 
 trembled on his lips. 
 
 " What is it, David ? " said the twins, running up 
 to him. 
 
 " She'll believe me now," said David. 
 
 He panted violently, his teeth chattered. 
 
 " Oh ! David, you frighten us ! What can be the 
 matter ? Polly, come here 1 Nell, come and tell us 
 what is the matter with David." 
 
 The elder girls, and the rest of the children, col 
 lected in the porch. Polly, the tallest of all, looked 
 over the heads of the others. She caught sight of 
 David's face, and a sudden pain, a queer sense of 
 fear, and the awakening of a late remorse, filled her 
 breast. 
 
 " What is it, David ? " she asked, with the others ; 
 but her voice shook, and was scarcely audible. 
 
 " She's done it ! " said David. " The baby's gone ! 
 It's Flower 1 She was in one of her passions, and 
 she has taken the baby away. I said she wasn't 
 like other girls. Nurse thinks perhaps the baby'll 
 die. What is it ? oh, Polly ! what is it ! " For 
 Polly had given one short scream, and, pushing
 
 WITHOUT HER TREASURE. 187 
 
 David and every one aside, rushed wildly into the 
 house. 
 
 She did not hear the others calling after her ; she 
 heard nothing but a surging as of great waves in her 
 ears, and David's words echoing along the passages 
 and up the stairs " perhaps the baby will die ! " 
 She did not see her father, who held out his arms to 
 detain her. She pushed Alice aside without know 
 ing that she touched her. In a twinkling she was 
 at the nursery door ; in a twinkling she was kneel 
 ing by the empty cot, and clasping the little frilled 
 pillow on which baby's head used to rest passion 
 ately to her lips. 
 
 " It's true, then ! " she gasped, at last. " I know 
 now what David meant ; I know now why he warned 
 me. Oh, nursie ! nursieM it's my fault ! " 
 
 " No, no, my darling ! " said Nurse ; " It's that 
 dreadful young lady. But she'll bring her back. 
 Sure, what else could she do, lovey ? She'll bring 
 the little one back, and, by the blessing of the good 
 God, she'll be none the worse for this. Don't take 
 on so, Miss Polly! Don't look like that, dear! 
 Why, your looks fairly scare me." 
 
 I'll be better in a minute," said Polly. This 
 is no time for feelings. I'll be quiet in a minute. 
 Have you got any cold water? There's such a 
 horrid loud noise in my ears." 
 
 She rushed across the room, poured a quantity of 
 water into a basin, and laved her face and head. 
 
 " Now I can think," she said. " What did Flower 
 do, Nurse ? Tell me everything ; tell me, hi very 
 few words, please, for there isn't a moment there 
 isn't half a moment to lose." 
 
 " It was this way, dear : she came into the room, 
 and took baby into her arms, and asked for some 
 dinner. She didn't seem no way taken with baby
 
 188 POLLY. 
 
 at first, but when I told her how much you loved 
 our little Miss Pearl, she asked me to give her to 
 her quite greedy-like, and ordered me to fetch some 
 dinner for herself, for she was starving, she said. I 
 offered that Alice should bring it ; but no, she was 
 all that I should choose something as would tempt 
 her appetite, and she coaxed with that pretty way 
 she have, and I went down to the kitchen myself to 
 please her. I'll never forgive myself, never, to the 
 longest day I live. I wasn't ten minutes gone, but 
 when I come back with a nice little tray of curry, 
 and some custard pie, Miss Flower and the baby were 
 away. That's all they hasn't been seen since." 
 
 " How long ago is that, Nurse ? " 
 
 " I couldn't rightly tell you, dearie maybe two 
 hours back. I ran all round the moor anywhere 
 near, and so did every servant in the house, but since 
 the Doctor come in they has done the thing properly. 
 Now where are you going, Miss Polly, love ? " 
 
 " To my father. I wish this horrid noise wouldn't 
 go on in my head. Don't worry me, Nurse. I know 
 it was my fault. I wouldn't listen to the warning, 
 and I would provoke her, but don't scold me now 
 until I have done my work." 
 
 Polly rushed downstairs." 
 
 " Where's father ? " she asked of Bunny, who was 
 sobbing violently, and clinging in a frantic manner 
 to Firefly's skirts. 
 
 I I don't know. He's out." 
 
 " He's away on the moor," said Fly. " Polly, are 
 you really anxious about baby Pearl ? " 
 
 " I have no time to be anxious," said Polly. " I 
 must find her first. I'll tell you then if I'm anxioua 
 Where's Nell, where are the twins ? " 
 
 " On the moor ; they all went out with father." 
 
 Which moor, the South or Peg-Top ? "
 
 WITHOUT HER TREASURE. 189 
 
 I think the South moor." 
 
 " All right, I'm going out too. What's the mat 
 ter, Fly ? Oh, you're not to come." 
 
 " Please, please, it's so horrid in the house, and 
 Bunny does make my dress so soppy with crying 
 into it." 
 
 " You're not to come. You are to stay here and 
 do your best, your very best, for father and the 
 others when they come home. If they don't meet 
 me, say I've gone to look for baby and for Flower. 
 I'll come back when I've found them. If they find 
 baby and Flower, they might ask to have the church 
 bells rung, then I'll know. Don't stare at me like 
 that, Fly ; it was my fault, so I must search until I 
 find them." 
 
 Polly ran out of the house and down the lawn. 
 Once again she was out on the moor. The great 
 solitary commons stretched to right and left ; they 
 were everywhere, they filled the whole horizon, ex 
 cept just where Sleepy Hollow lay, with its belt of 
 trees, its cultivated gardens, and just beyond the 
 little village and the church with the square, gray 
 tower. There was a great lump in Polly's throat, 
 and a mist before her eyes. The dreadful beating 
 was still going on in her heart, and the surging, 
 ceaseless waves of sound In her ears. 
 
 Suddenly she fell on her knees. 
 
 " Please, God, give me back little Pearl. Please, 
 God, save little Pearl. I don't want anything else ; 
 I don't even want father to forgive me, if you will 
 save little Pearl." 
 
 Most earnest prayers bring a sense of comfort, and 
 Polly did not feel quite so lonely when she stood 
 again on her feet, with the bracken and the fern all 
 round her. 
 
 She tried hard now to collect her thoughts ; she
 
 190 POLLY. 
 
 made a yaliant effort to feel calm and reasonable. 
 
 " I can do nothing if I get so excited," she said to 
 herself. "I must just fight with my anxious spirit. 
 My heart must stay quiet, for my brain has got to 
 work now. Let me see ! where has Flower taken 
 baby ? Father and Nell and the others are all 
 searching the South moor, so I will go on to Peg-Top. 
 I will walk slowly, and I will look behind every clump 
 of trees, and I will call Flower's name now and then ; 
 for I am sure, I am quite, quite sure that however 
 dreadful her passion may have been, if Flower is the 
 least like me, she will be dreadfully sorry by now 
 dreadfully sorry and dreadfully frightened so if she 
 hears me calling she will be sure to answer. Oh, 
 dear ! oh, dear ! here is my heart speaking again, and 
 my head is in a whirl, and the noises are coming back 
 into my ears. Oh ! how fearfully I hate Flower ! 
 How could she, how could she have taken our dar 
 ling little baby away ? And yet and yet I think 
 I'd forgive Flower ; I think I'd try to love her ; I 
 think I'd even tell her that I was the one who had 
 done most wrong ; I think I'd even go on my knees 
 and beg Flower's pardon, if only I could hold baby 
 to my heart again ! " 
 
 By this time Polly was crying bitterly. These 
 tears did the poor child good, relieving the pressure 
 on her brain, and enabling her to think calmly and 
 coherently. While this tempest of grief, however, 
 effected these good results, it certainly did not im 
 prove her powers of observation ; the fast-flowing 
 tears blinded her eyes, and she stumbled along com 
 pletely forgetting the dangerous and uneven charac 
 ter of the ground over which she walked. 
 
 It was now growing dusk, and the dim light also 
 added to poor Polly's dangers. Peg-Top Moor had 
 m^ny tracks leading in all d_irections. Polly knew
 
 MAGGIE TO TflE RESCI7E. 
 
 several of these, and where they led, but she had now 
 left all the beaten paths, and the consequence was 
 that she presently found herself uttering a sharp and 
 frightened cry, and discovered that she had fallen 
 down a fairly-steep descent. She was slightly 
 stunned by her fall, and for a moment or two did not 
 attempt to move. Then a dull pain in her ankle 
 caused her to put her hand to it, and to struggle 
 giddily to a sitting position. 
 
 " I'll be able to stand in a minute," she said to her 
 self ; and she pressed her hand to her forehead, and 
 struggled bravely against the surging, waving sounds 
 which had returned to her head. 
 
 " I can't sit here ! " she murmured ; and she tried 
 to get to her feet. 
 
 In vain ! a sharp agony brought her, trembling 
 and almost fainting, once more to a sitting posture. 
 What was she to do? how was she now to find 
 Flower and the baby ? She was alone on the moor, 
 unable to stir. Perhaps her ankle was broken ; cer 
 tainly, it was sprained very badly. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MAGGIE TO THE BESCTJE. 
 
 N^ the Maybrights returned home from their 
 disastrous picnic at Troublous Times Castle, Maggie 
 and George brought up the rear. In consequence 
 of their being some little way behind the others, 
 Maggie did not at once know of the fact of Flower's 
 disappearance with the baby. She was naturally a 
 slow girl ; ideas came to her at rare intervals ; she 
 even received startling and terrible news with a cer-
 
 POLLY. 
 
 ; iin outward stolidity and calm. Still, Maggie was 
 not an altogether purposeless and thoughtless 
 maiden ; thoughts occasionally drifted her way ; ideas, 
 when once born in her heart, were slow to die. 
 When affection took root there it became a very 
 sturdy plant. If there was any one in the world 
 whom Maggie adored, it was her dear young mis 
 tress, Miss Polly May bright. Often at night Maggio 
 awoke, and thought, with feelings of almost worship, 
 of this bright, impulsive young lady. How delight- 
 ful that week had been when she and Polly had 
 cooked, and housekeeped, and made cakes and pud 
 dings together! Would any one but Polly have 
 forgiven her for taking that pound to save her 
 mother's furniture? Would any one in all the 
 world, except that dear, warm-hearted, impulsive 
 Polly, have promised to do without a winter jacket 
 in order to return that money to the housekeeping 
 fund ? Maggie felt that, stupid as she knew herself 
 to be, slow as she undoubtedly was, she could really 
 do great things for Polly. In Polly's cause her 
 brain could awake, the inertia which more or less 
 characterized her could depart. For Polly she could 
 undoubtedly become a brave and active young per 
 son. 
 
 She was delighted with herself when she assisted 
 Miss Maybright to descend from her bedroom win 
 dow, and to escape with her on to the moor, but her 
 delight and sense of triumph had not been proof 
 against the solitude of the sad moor, against the 
 hunger which was only to be satisfied with berries 
 and spring water, and, above all, against the terrible 
 apparition of the wife of Micah Jones. What Maggie 
 went through in the hermit's hut, what terrors she 
 experienced, were only known to Maggie's own heart. 
 When, however, Mrs. Ricketts got back her
 
 MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 daughter from that terrible evening's experience, 
 she emphatically declared that " Mag were worse 
 nor useless ; that she seemed daft-like, and a'most 
 silly, and that never, never to her dying day, would 
 she allow Mag to set foot on them awful lonely com 
 mons again." 
 
 Mrs. Ricketts, however, was not a particularly 
 obstinate character, and when Polly's bright face 
 peeped round her door, and Polly eagerly, and almost 
 curtly, demanded that Maggie should that very 
 moment accompany her on a delightful picnic to 
 Troublous Times Castle, and Maggie herself, with 
 sparkling eyes and burning cheeks, was all agog to 
 go, and was now inclined to pooh-pooh the terrors 
 she had endured in the hermit's hut, there was noth 
 ing for Mrs. Ricketts to do but to forget her vow 
 and send off the two young people with her bless 
 ing. 
 
 " Eh, but she's a dear young lady," she said, under 
 her breath, apostrophizing Miss May bright. " And 
 Mag do set wonderful store by her, and no mistake. 
 It ain't every young lady as 'ud think of my Maggie 
 when she's going out pleasuring ; but bless Miss 
 Polly ! she seems fairly took up with my poor gel." 
 
 No face could look more radiant than Maggie's 
 when she started for the picnic^ but, on the other 
 hand, no young person could look more thoroughly 
 sulky ai*i downcast than she did on her return. 
 Mrs. Ricketts was just dishing up some potatoes for 
 supper when Maggie flung open the door of the tiny 
 cottage, walked across the room, and flung herself 
 on a little settle by the fire. 
 
 " You're hungry, Mag," said Mrs. Ricketts, without 
 looking up. 
 
 " No, I bean't," replied Maggie, shortly. 
 
 " Eh, I suppose you got your fill of good things
 
 194 i>OLLY. 
 
 out with the young ladies and gentlemen. It ain't 
 your poor mother's way to have a bit of luck like 
 that, and you never thought, I suppose, of putting a 
 slice or two of plum cake, or maybe the half of a 
 chicken, in your pocket, as a bit of a relish for your 
 mother's supper. No, no, that ain't your way, Mag ; 
 you're all for self, and that I will say." 
 
 " No, I ain't, mother. You has no call to talk so. 
 How could I hide away chicken and plum cake, under 
 Miss Polly's nose, so to speak. I was setting nigh 
 to Miss Polly, mother, jest about the very middle of 
 the feast. I had a place of honor close up to Miss 
 Polly, mother." 
 
 " Eh, to be sure ! " exclaimed Mrs. Ricketts. 
 
 She stopped dishing up the potatoes, wiped her 
 brow, and turned to look at her daughter, with a slow 
 expression of admiration in her gaze. 
 
 " Eh," she continued, " you has a way about you, 
 Mag, with all your contrariness. Miss Polly May- 
 bright thinks a sight on you, Mag ; seems to me as if 
 maybe she'd adopt you, and turn you into a real 
 lady. My word, I have read of such things in story 
 books." 
 
 " You had better go on dishing up your supper, 
 mother, and not be talking nonsense like that. Miss 
 Polly is a very good young lady, but she hasn't no 
 thought of folly of that sort. Eh, dear me," continued 
 Maggie, yawning prodigiously, " I'm a bit tired, and 
 no mistake." 
 
 " That's always the way," responded Mrs. Ricketts. 
 " Tired, and not a word to say after your pleasuring , 
 no talking about what happened, and what Miss 
 Helen wore, and if Miss Firefly has got on her winter 
 worsted stockings yet, and not a mention of them 
 foreigners as we're all dying to hear of, and not a 
 \vord of what victuals you ate, nor nothing. You'rC
 
 MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE. 195 
 
 a selfish girl, Maggie Ricketts, and that I will say, 
 though I am your mother." 
 
 " I'm sleepy," responded Maggie, who seemad. by 
 no means put out by this tirade on the part of her 
 mother. " I'll go up to bed if you don't mind, mother. 
 No, I said afore as I wasn't hungry." 
 
 She left the room, crept up the step-ladder to the 
 loft, where the family slept, and opening the tiny 
 dormer window, put her elbows on the sill and 
 gazed out on the gathering gloom which was settling 
 on the moor. 
 
 The news of the calamity which had befallen 
 Polly had reached Maggie's ears. Maggie thought 
 only of Polly in this trouble ; it was Polly's baby 
 who was lost, it was Polly whose heart would be 
 broken. She did not consider the others in the 
 matter. It was Polly, the Polly whom she so 
 devotedly loved, who filled her whole horizon. 
 When the news was told her she scarcely said a 
 word ; a heavy, " Eh ! you don't say ! " dropped 
 from her lips. Even George, who was her informer, 
 wondered if she had really taken in the extent of 
 the catastrophe ; then she had turned on her heel 
 and walked down to her mother's cottage. 
 
 She was not all thoughtless and all indifferent, 
 however. While she looked so stoical and heavy she 
 was patiently working out an idea, and was nerving 
 herself for an act of heroism. 
 
 Now as she leant her elbows on the sill by the 
 open window, cold Fear came and stood by her side. 
 She was awfully frightened, but her resolve did not 
 falter. She meant to slip away in the dusk and walk 
 across Peg-Top Moor to the hermit's hut. An 
 instinct, which she did not try either to explain away 
 or prove, led her to feel sure that she should find 
 Polly's baby in the hermit's hut. She would herself,
 
 196 POLLY. 
 
 unaided and alone, bring little Pearl back to her 
 sister. 
 
 It would have been quite possible for Maggie to 
 have imparted her ideas to George, to her mother, or 
 to some of the neighbors. There was not a person 
 in the village who would not go to the rescue of the 
 Doctor's child. Maggie might have accompanied a 
 multitude, had she so willed it, to the hermit's hut. 
 But then the honor and glory would not have been 
 hers ; a little reflection of it might shine upon her, 
 but she would not bask, as she now hoped to do, in 
 its full rays. 
 
 She determined to go across the lonely moor 
 which she so dreaded alone, for she -alone must bring 
 back Pearl to Polly. 
 
 Shortly before the moon arose, and long after sun 
 set, Maggie crept down the attic stairs, unlatched the 
 house door, and stepped out into the quiet village 
 street. Her fear was that some neighbors would see 
 her, and either insist on accompanying her on her 
 errand, or bring her home. The village, however, 
 was very quiet that night, and at nine o'clock, when 
 Maggie started on her search, there were very few 
 people out. 
 
 She came quickly to the top of the small street, 
 crossed a field, squeezed through a gap in the hedge, 
 and found herself on the borders of Peg- Top Moor. 
 The moon was bright by this time, and there was no 
 fear of Maggie not seeing. She stepped over the 
 ground briskly, a solitary little figure with a long 
 shadow ever stalking before her, and a beating, de 
 fiant heart in her breast. She had quite determined 
 that whatever agony she went through, her fears 
 should not conquer her ; she would fight them down 
 with a strong "hand, she would go forward on her 
 poad, come what might.
 
 MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE. 197 
 
 Maggie was an ignorant little cottager, and there 
 were many folk-lore tales abroad with regard to the 
 moor which might have frightened a stouter heart 
 than hers. She believed fully in the ghost who was 
 to be seen when the moon was at the full, pacing 
 slowly up and down, through that plantation of trees 
 at her right ; she had unswerving faith in the bogey 
 who uttered terrific cries, and terrified the people 
 who were brave enough to walk at night through 
 Deadman's Glen. But she believed more fully still 
 in Polly, in Polly's love and despair, and in the 
 sacredness of the errand which she was now under 
 taking to deliver her from her trouble. 
 
 From Mrs. Ricketts' cottage to the hermit's hut 
 there lay a stretch of moorland covering some miles 
 in extent, and Maggie knew that the lonely journey 
 she was taking could not come to a speedy end. 
 
 She knew, however, that she had got on the right 
 track, and that by putting one foot up and one foot 
 down, as the children do who want to reach London 
 town, she also at last would come to her destination. 
 
 The moon shone brightly, and the little maid, her 
 shadow always going before her, stepped along 
 bravely. 
 
 Now and then that same shadow seemed to as 
 sume gigantic and unearthly proportions, but at 
 other times it wore a friendly aspect, and somewhat 
 comforted the young traveler. 
 
 " It's more or less part of me," quoth Maggie, 
 " and I must say as I'm glad I have it, it's better nor 
 nought ; but oh, ain't the moon fearsome, and don't 
 my heart a-flutter, and a pit-a-pat ! I'm quite sure 
 now, yes, I'm quite gospel sure, thatef I was to meet 
 the wife of Micah Jones, I'd fall flat down dead at her 
 feet. Oh, how fearsome is this moor! Well, ef I 
 gets hold of Miss Pearl I'll never set foot on it
 
 again. No, not even for a picnic, and the grandest 
 seat at the feast, and the best of the victuals." 
 
 The moon shone on, and presently the interminable 
 walk came to a conclusion. Maggie reached the 
 hermit's hut, listened with painful intentness for the 
 baying of some angry dogs, pressed her nose against 
 the one pane of glass in the one tiny window, saw 
 nothing, heard nothing, finally lifted the latch, and 
 went in. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE HERMIT'S HUT. 
 
 It was perfectly dark inside the hut, for the little 
 window, through which the moon might have shone, 
 was well shrouded with a piece of old rug. It was 
 perfectly dark, and Maggie, although she had 
 stumbled a good deal in lifting the latch, and having 
 to descend a step without knowing it, had all but 
 tumbled headlong into the tiny abode, had evoked 
 no answering sound or stir of any sort. 
 
 She stood still for a moment in the complete dark 
 ness to recover breath, and to consider what she was 
 to do. Strange to say, she did not feel at all frightened 
 now; the shelter of the four walls gave her 
 confidence. There were no dogs about, and Maggie 
 felt pretty sure that the wife of Micah Jones was 
 also absent, for if she were in the hut, and awake, 
 she would be sure to say, " Who's there ? " quoth 
 Maggie, to her own heart ; " and ef she's in the hut, 
 and asleep, why it wouldn't be like her not to snore." 
 
 The little girl stood still for a full minute ; during 
 this time she was collecting her faculties, and that 
 brain, which Polly was pleased to call so small, waa 
 revolving some practical schemes.
 
 THE HERMIT'S HUT. 199 
 
 Ef I could only lay my hand on a match, now," 
 she thought. 
 
 She suddenly remembered that in her mother's 
 cottage the match-box was generally placed behind a 
 certain brick near the fireplace ; it was a handy spot, 
 both safe and dry, and Maggie, since her earliest 
 days, had known that if there was such a luxury as 
 a box of matches in the house, it would be found in 
 this corner. She wondered if the wife of Micah 
 Jones could also have adopted so excellent a practice. 
 She stepped across the little hut, felt with her hands 
 right and left, poked about all round the open 
 fireplace, and at last, joy of joys, not only discovered 
 a box with a few matches in it, but an end of candle 
 besides. 
 
 In a moment she had struck a match, had applied 
 it to the candle, and then, holding the flickering 
 light high, looked around the little hut. 
 
 A girl, crouched up against the wall on some straw, 
 was gazing at her with wide-open terrified eyes ; the 
 girl was perfectly still, not a muscle hi her body 
 moved, only her big frightened eyes gazed fixedly 
 at Maggie. She wore no hat on her head ; her long 
 yellow hair lay in confusion over her shoulders ; 
 her feet were shoeless, and one arm was laid with a 
 certain air of protection on a wee white bundle on 
 the straw by her side. 
 
 " Who are you ? " said Flower, at last. " Are you 
 a ghost, or are you the daughter of the dreadful 
 woman who lives in this hut ? See ! I had a long 
 sleep. She put me to sleep, I know she did ; and 
 while I was asleep she stole my purse and rings, and 
 my hat and shoes Bat chat's nothing, that's noth- 
 irg at aM. While I was asleep, baby here died. I 
 V iOvV she's quite dead, she has not stirred nor moved 
 for hours, at least it seems like hours. "What are
 
 200 POLLY. 
 
 you staring at me in that rude way for, girl ? I'm 
 quite sure the baby, Polly's little sister, is dead." 
 
 Nobody could speak in a more utterly apathetic 
 way than Flower. Her voice neither rose nor fell. 
 She poured out her dreary words in a wailing mono 
 tone. 
 
 " I know that it's my fault," she added ; " Polly's 
 little sister has died because of me." 
 
 She still held her hand over the white bundle. 
 
 " I'm terrified, but not of you," she added ; " you 
 may be a ghost, stealing in here in the dark, or you 
 may be the daughter of that dreadful woman. But 
 whoever you are, it's all alike to me. I got into one 
 of my passions. I promised my mother when she 
 died that I'd never get into another, but I did, I got 
 into one to-day. I was angry with Polly May bright ; 
 I stole her little sister away, and now she's dead. I 
 am so terrified at what I have done that I never can 
 be afraid of anything else. You need not stare so at 
 me, girl ; whoever you are I'm not afraid of you." 
 
 Maggie had now found an old bottle to stick her 
 candle into. 
 
 U I am Miss Polly's little kitchen-maid, Maggie 
 Ricketts," she replied. " I ain't a ghost, and I haven't 
 nothing to say to the wife of Micah Jones. As to the 
 baby, let me look at it. You're a very bad young 
 lady, Miss Flower, but I has come to fetch away the 
 baby, ef you please, so let me look at it this minute. 
 Oh, my, how my legs do ache ; that moor is heavy 
 walking ! Give me the baby, please, Miss Flower. It 
 ain't your baby, it's Miss Polly's." 
 
 " So you're Maggie ? " said Flower. There was 
 a queer shake in her voice. " It was about you I 
 was so angry. Yes, you may look at the baby ; 
 take it and look at it, but I don't want to see it, not 
 if it's dead."
 
 THE HERMIT'S HUT. 201 
 
 Maggie instantly lifted the little white bundle 
 into her arms, removed a portion of the shawl, and 
 pressed her cheek against the cheek of the baby. 
 
 The little white cheek was cold, but not deadly 
 cold, and some faint, faint breath still came from the 
 slightly parted lips. 
 
 When Maggie had anything to do, no one could 
 be less nervous and more practical. 
 
 " The baby ain't dead at all," she explained. 
 " She's took with a chill, and she's very bad, but she 
 ain't dead. Mother has had heaps of babies, and I 
 know what to do. Little Miss Pearl must have a 
 bath this minute." 
 
 " Oh, Maggie," said Flower. " Oh Maggie, Mag 
 gie ! " 
 
 Her frozen indifference, her apathy, had departed. 
 She rose from her recumbent position, pushed back 
 her hair, and stood beside the other young girl, with 
 eyes that glowed, and yet brimmed over with tears. 
 
 " Oh, what a load you have taken off my heart !" 
 she exclaimed. " Oh, what a darling you are ! Kiss 
 me, Maggie, kiss me, dear, dear Maggie." 
 
 " All right, Miss. You was angry with me afore, 
 and now you're a-hugging of me, and I don't see no 
 more sense in one than t'other. Ef you'll hold the 
 baby up warm to you, Miss, and breathe ag'in her 
 cheek werry gentle-like, you'll be a-doing more good 
 than a-kissing of me. I must find sticks, and I must 
 light up a fire, and I must do it this minute, or we 
 won't have no baby to talk about, nor fuss over." 
 
 Maggie's rough and practical words were perhaps 
 the best possible tonic for Flower at this moment. 
 She had been on the verge of a fit of hysterics, 
 which might have been as terrible in its consequences 
 as either her passion or her despair. Now trembling 
 slightly, she sat down on the little stool which Maggie
 
 202 POLLY. 
 
 had pulled forward for her, took the baby in her 
 arms, and partly opening the shawl which covered 
 it, breathed on its white face. 
 
 The little one certainly was alive, and when 
 Flower's breath warmed it, its own breathing became 
 stronger. 
 
 Meanwhile, Maggie bustled about. The hermit's 
 hut, now that she had something to do in it, seemed 
 no longer at all terrible. After a good search round 
 she found some sticks, and soon a bright fire blazed 
 and crackled, and filled the tiny house with light and 
 warmth. A pot of water was put on the fire to 
 warm, and then Maggie looked round for a vessel to 
 bath the baby in. She found a little wooden tub, 
 which she placed ready in front of the fire. 
 
 " So far, so good ! " she exclaimed ; " but never a 
 sight of a towel is there to be seen. Ef you'll give 
 me the baby now, Miss, I'll warm her limbs a bit 
 afore I put her in the bath. I don't know how I'm 
 to dry her, I'm sure, but a hot bath she must 
 have." 
 
 " I have got a white petticoat on," said Flower. 
 " Would that be any use ? " 
 
 " Off with it this minute, then, Miss ; it's better 
 nor nought. Now, then, my lamb ! my pretty ! see 
 ef Maggie don't pull you round in a twinkling ! " 
 
 She rubbed and chafed the little creature's limbs 
 and soon baby opened her eyes, and gave a weak, 
 piteous cry. 
 
 "I wish I had something to give her afore I put 
 her in the bath," said Maggie. " There's sure to be 
 sperits of some sort in a house like this. You look 
 round you and see ef you can't find something, Miss 
 Flower." 
 
 Flower obediently searched in the four corners of 
 the but.
 
 HERMIT'S fitff , &08 
 
 "1 can't see anything!" she exclaimed. "The 
 place seems quite empty." 
 
 " Eh, dear ! " said Maggie : " you don't know how 
 to search. Take the baby, and let me." 
 
 She walked across the cabin, thrust her hand into 
 some straw which was pressed against the rafters, 
 pulled out an old tin can, and opened it." 
 
 " Eh, what's this ! " she exclaimed. " Sperits ? 
 Now we'll do. Give me the baby back again, Miss 
 Flower, and fetch a cup, ef you please." 
 
 Flower did so. 
 
 " Put some hot water into it. Why, you ain't very 
 handy ! Miss Polly's worth a dozen of you ! Now 
 pour in a little of the sperit from the tin can not 
 too much. Let me taste it. That will do. Now, 
 baby now, Miss Polly's darling baby ! I'll wet 
 your lips with this, and you'll have your bath, and 
 you'll do fine ! " 
 
 The mixture was rubbed on the blue lips of the 
 infant, and Maggie even managed to get her to 
 swallow a few drops. Then, the bath being pre 
 pared by Flower, under a shower of scathing ridi 
 cule from Maggie, who had very small respect, in 
 any sense of the word, for her assistant, the baby was 
 put into it, thoroughly warmed, rubbed up, and com 
 forted, and then, with the white fleecy shawl 
 wrapped well around her, she fell asleep in Maggie's 
 arms. 
 
 " She'll do for the present," said the kitchen-maid, 
 leaning back and mopping a little moisture from her 
 own brow. " She'll do for a time, but she won't do 
 for long, for she'll want milk and all kinds of com 
 forts. And I tell you what it is, Miss Flower, that 
 my master and Miss Polly can't be kept a-fretting 
 for this child until the morning. Some one must go 
 at once, and tell 'em where she is, and put 'em out of
 
 201 POLLY. 
 
 their misery, and the thing is this : is it you, or is it 
 ine that's to do the job ? " 
 
 " But," said Flower she had scarcely spoken at 
 all until now "cannot we both go? Cannot we 
 both walk home, and take the baby with us ? " 
 
 " No, Miss, not by no means. Not a breath of 
 night air must touch the cheeks of this blessed lamb. 
 Either you or me, Miss Flower, must walk back to 
 Sleepy Hollow, and tell 'em about the baby, and 
 bring back Nurse, and what's wanted for the child. 
 Will you hold her, Miss ? and shall I trot off at once ? 
 for there ain't a minute to be lost." 
 
 " No," said Flower, " I won't stay in the hut. It 
 is dreadful to me. I will go and tell the Doctor and 
 Polly." 
 
 " As you please, Miss. Maybe it is best as I should 
 stay with little Missy. You'll find it awful lonesome 
 out on the moor, Miss Flower, and I expect when you 
 get near Deadman's Glen as you'll scream out with 
 terror ; there's a bogey there with a head three times 
 as big as his body, and long arms twice as long as 
 they ought to be, and he tears up bits of moss and 
 fern, and flings them at yer, and if any of them, even 
 the tiniest bit, touches yer, why you're dead before 
 the year is out. Then there's the walking ghost and 
 the shadowy maid, and the brown lady, the same 
 color as the bracken when it's withering up, and 
 and why, what's the matter, Miss Flower ? " 
 
 " Only I respected you before you talked in that 
 way," said Flower. " I respected you very much, and 
 I was awfully ashamed of not being able to eat my 
 dinner with you. But when you talk in such an 
 awfully silly way I don't respect you, so you had 
 better not go on. Please tell me, as well as you can, 
 how I'm to get to Sleepy Hollow, and I'll start off at 
 once."
 
 THE HERMIT'S HUT. 205 
 
 "You must beware of the brown lady, all the 
 same." 
 
 " No, I won't beware of her ; I'll spring right into 
 her arms." 
 
 " And the bogey in Deadman's Glen. For 
 Heaven's sake, Miss Flower, keep to the west of 
 Deadman's Glen." 
 
 " If Deadman's Glen is a short cut to Sleepy Hol 
 low, I'll walk through it. Maggie, do you want 
 Nurse to come for little Pearl, or not ? I don't mind 
 waiting here till morning ; it does not greatly matter 
 to me. I was running away, you know." 
 
 " You must go at once," said Maggie, recalled to 
 common sense by another glance at the sleeping 
 child. "The baby's but weakly, and there ain't 
 nothing here as I can give her, except the sperits 
 and water, until Nurse comes. I'll lay her just for 
 a minute on the straw here, and go out with you and 
 put you on the track. You follow the track right on 
 until you see the lights in the village. Sleepy Hol 
 low's right in the village, and most likely there'll be 
 a light in the Doctor's study window ; be quick, for 
 Heaven's sake, Miss Flower ! " 
 
 " Yes, I'm off. Oh, Maggie, Maggie ! what do you 
 think ? That dreadful woman has stolen my shoes. 
 I forgot all about it until this minute. What shall 
 t do ? I can't walk far in my stockings." 
 
 " Have my boots, Miss ; they're hob-nailed, and 
 shaped after my foot, which is broad, as it should be, 
 seeing as I'm only a kitchen-maid. But they're 
 strong, and they are sure to fit you fine." 
 
 " I could put my two feet into one of them," re 
 sponded Flower, curling her proud lip once again 
 disdainfully. But then she glanced at the baby, and 
 a queer shiver passed over her ; her eyes grew moist, 
 her hands trembled.
 
 206 POLLY. 
 
 "I will put the boots on," she said. And she 
 slipped her little feet, in their dainty fine silk stock 
 ings, into Maggie's shoes. 
 
 " Good-bye, Miss ; come back as soon as you can," 
 called out the faithful waiting-maid, and Flowsr set 
 off across the lonely moor. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AN OLD SONG. 
 
 IT took a great deal to frighten Polly Maybright ; 
 no discipline, no hard words, no punishments, had 
 ever been able to induce the smallest sensation of 
 fear in her breast. As to the moor, she had been 
 brought up on it ; she had drank in its air, and felt 
 its kindly breath on her cheeks from her earliest 
 days. The moors were to Polly like dear, valued, 
 but somewhat stern, friends. To be alone, even at 
 night, in one of the small ravines of Peg-Top Moor 
 had little in itself to alarm the moorland child. 
 
 It took Polly some time to realize that she was 
 absolutely unable to stir a step. Struggle as she 
 might, she could not put that badly-injured foot to 
 the ground. Even she, brave and plucky as she was, 
 had not the nerve to undergo this agony. She could 
 not move, therefore she could do nothing at present 
 to recover little Pearl. This was really the thought 
 which distressed her. As to sleeping with her head 
 pressed against the friendly bracken, or staying on 
 Peg- Top Moor all night, these were small considera 
 tions. But not to be able to stir a step to find the 
 baby, to feel that Flower was carrying the baby 
 farther and farther away, and that Polly's chance of
 
 AN OLD SONG. 20? 
 
 ever seeing her again was growing less and less, 
 became at last a thought of such agony that the 
 poor little girl could scarcely keep from screaming 
 aloud. 
 
 "And it was all my fault!" she moaned. "I 
 forgot what father said about climbing the highest 
 mountain. When David came to me, and told me 
 that Flower was subject to those awful passions, I 
 forgot all about my mountain-climbing. I did not 
 recognize that I had come to a dangerous bit, so 
 that I wanted the ropes of prayer and the memory 
 of mother to pull me over it. No, I did nothing but 
 rejoice in the knowledge that I didn't much like 
 Flower, and that I was very, very glad to tease her. 
 Now I am punished. Oh, oh, what shall I do? 
 Oh, if baby is lost ! If baby dies, I shall die too ! 
 Oh, I think I'm the most miserable girl in all the 
 world! What shall I do? Why did mother go 
 away ? Why did Flower come here ? Why did I 
 want her to come ? I have made a mess of the house 
 keeping, and now I have made a mess of the visit 
 of the strangers. Oh, I'm the sort of girl who 
 oughtn't to go a step alone ! I really, really am ! 
 I think I'm the very weakest sort of girl in all the 
 world ! " 
 
 Polly sobbed and sobbed. It was not her custom 
 to give way thus utterly, but she was in severe pain 
 of body, and she had got a great shock when the loss 
 of little Pearl had been announced by David. 
 
 " What shall I do ? " she moaned and sobbed. 
 " Oh, I'm the sort of girl who oughtn't to go a step 
 alone." 
 
 While she cried all by herself on the moor, and 
 the friendly stars looked down at her, and the moon 
 came out and shone on her poor forsaken little figure, 
 an old verse she used to say in her early childhood
 
 POLLY. 
 
 returned to her memory. It was the verse of $ 
 hymn a hymn her mother was fond of, and used 
 often to sing, particularly about the time of the New 
 Year, to the children. 
 
 Mrs. Maybright had a beautiful voice, and on 
 Sunday evenings she sang many hymns, with won 
 derful pathos and feeling, to her children. Polly, 
 who cared for music on her own account, had loved 
 to listen. At these times she always looked hungrily 
 into her mother's face, and a longing and a desire for 
 the best things of all awoke hi her breast. It was 
 at such times as these that she made resolves, and 
 thought of climbing high and being better than 
 others. 
 
 Since her mother's death, Polly could not bear to 
 listen to hymns. In church she had tried to shut her 
 ears ; her lips were closed tight, and she diligently 
 read to herself some other part of the service. For 
 her mother's sake, the hymns, with that one beau 
 tiful voice silent, were torture to her ; but Polly was 
 a very proud girl, and no one, not even her father, 
 who now came nearest to her in all the world, 
 guessed what she suffered. 
 
 Now, lying on the moor, her mother's favorite 
 hymn seemed to float down from the stars to her 
 ears: 
 
 " I know not the way I am going, 
 
 But well dp I know my Guide ; 
 With a trusting faith I give my hand 
 To the loving Friend at my side. 
 
 " The only thing that I say to Him 
 As He takes it is, ' Hold it fast ! 
 Suffer me not to lose my way, 
 And bring me home at last ! ' " 
 
 It did not seem at all to Polly that she was re-
 
 AN OLD SONG 209 
 
 peating these words herself ; rather they seemed to 
 be said to her gently, slowly, distinctly, by a well- 
 loved and familiar voice. 
 
 It was true, then, there was a Guide, and those 
 who were afraid to go alone could hold a Hand 
 which would never lead them astray. 
 
 Her bitter sobs came more quietly as she thought 
 of this. Gradually her eyes closed, and she fell 
 asleep. 
 
 When Flower started across the moor it was quite 
 true that she was not hi the least afraid. A great 
 terror had come to her that night ; during those aw 
 ful minutes when she feared the baby was dead, the 
 terror of the deed she had done had almost stunned 
 her ; but when Maggie came and relieved her of her 
 worst agony, a good deal of her old manner and a 
 considerable amount of her old haughty, defiant 
 spirit had returned. 
 
 Flower was more or less uncivilized ; there was a 
 good deal of the wild and of the untamed about her ; 
 and now that the baby was alive, and likely to do 
 well, overwhelming contrition for the deed she had 
 done no longer oppressed her. 
 
 She stepped along as quickly as her uncomfortable 
 boots would admit. The moonlight fell full on her 
 slender figure, and cast a cold radiance over her un 
 covered head. Her long, yellow hair floated down 
 over her shoulders ; she looked wonderfully ethereal, 
 almost unearthly, and had' any of the villagers been 
 abroad, they might well have taken her for one of the 
 ghosts of the moor. 
 
 Flower had a natural instinct for finding her way, 
 and, aided by Maggie's directions, she steered in a 
 straight course for the village. Not a soul was 
 abroad ; she was alone, in a great solitude. 
 
 The feeling gave her a certain sense of exhilara-
 
 210 1POLLY. 
 
 tion. From the depths of her despair her easily 
 influenced spirits sprang again to hope and confi 
 dence. After all, nothing very dreadful had hap 
 pened. She must struggle not to give way to in 
 temperate feelings. She must bear with Polly ; 
 she must put up with Maggie. It was all very try 
 ing of course, but it was the English way. She 
 walked along faster and faster, and now her lips rose 
 in a light song, and now again she ran, eager to get 
 over the ground. When she ran, her light hair 
 floated behind her, and she looked less and less like 
 a living creature. 
 
 Polly had slept for nearly two hours. She awoke 
 to hear a voice singing, not the sweet, touching, 
 high notes which had seemed to fall from the stars to 
 comfort her, but a wild song : 
 
 " Oh, who will up and follow me? 
 
 Oh, who will with me ride ? 
 Oh, who will up and follow me 
 To win a bonny bride ? " 
 
 For a moment Polly's heart stood still ; then she 
 started forward with a glad and joyful cry. 
 
 " It is Flower ! Flower coming back again with 
 little Pearl ! " she said, in a voice of rapture. " That 
 is Flower's song and Flower's voice, and she wouldn't 
 sing so gaily if baby was not quite, quite well, and if 
 she was not bringing her home." 
 
 Polly rose, as well as she could, to a sitting pos 
 ture, and shouted out in return 
 
 " Here I am, Flower. Come to me. Bring me 
 baby at once." 
 
 Even Flower, who in many respects had nerves of 
 iron, was startled by this sudden apparition among 
 the bracken. For a brief instant she pressed her 
 hand to her heart. Were Maggie's tales true 't
 
 AN OLD SONG. 211 
 
 Were there really queer and unnatural creatures to 
 be found on the moor ? 
 
 " Come here, Flower, here ! I have sprained my 
 ankle. What are you afraid of?" shouted Polly 
 again. Then Flower sprang to her side, knelt down 
 by her, and took her cold hand in hers. Flower's 
 slight fingers were warm ; she was glowing all over 
 with life and exercise. 
 
 " Where's baby ? " said Polly, a sickly fear steal 
 ing over her again when she saw that the queer girl 
 was alone. 
 
 " Baby ? She's in the hermit's hut with Maggie. 
 Don't scold me, Polly. I'm very sorry I got into a 
 passion." 
 
 Polly pushed Flower's fingers a little away. 
 
 " I don't want to be angry," she said. " I've been 
 asking God to keep me from being angry. I did 
 wrong myself, I did very wrong, only you did worse ; 
 you did worse than I did, Flower." 
 
 " I don't see that at all. At any rate, I have said 
 I am sorry. No one is expected to beg pardon twice. 
 How is it you are out here, lying on the moor, Polly ? 
 Are you mad ? " 
 
 " No. I came out to look for baby, and for you." 
 
 " But why are you here ? You could not find us 
 in that lazy fashion." 
 
 " Look at my foot ; the moonlight shines on it. 
 See, it is twisted all round. I fell from a height 
 and hurt myself. I have been lying here for 
 hours." 
 
 " Poor Polly ! I am really sorry. I once strained 
 my foot like that. The pain was very bad very, 
 very bad. Mother kept my foot on her knee all 
 night ; she bathed it all night long ; in the morn 
 ing it was better." 
 
 M Please, Flower, don't mind about my foot now.
 
 212 POLLY. 
 
 Tell me about baby. Is she ill ? Have you injured 
 her?" 
 
 " I don't know. I suppose I did wrong to take her 
 out like that. I said before, I was sorry. I was 
 frightened about her, awfully frightened, until 
 Maggie came in. I was really afraid baby was dead. 
 I don't want to speak of it. It wasn't true. Don't 
 look at me like that. Maggie came, and said that 
 little Pearl lived. I was so relieved that I kissed 
 Maggie, yes, actually, although she is only a kitchen- 
 maid. Maggie got a warm bath ready, and put baby 
 in, and when I left the hut she was sound asleep. 
 Maggie knew exactly what to do for her. Fancy 
 my kissing her, although she is only a kitchen- 
 maid ! " 
 
 " She is the dearest girl in the world ! " said Polly. 
 " I think she is noble. Think of her going to the 
 hermit's hut, and finding baby, and saving baby's 
 life. Oh, she is the noblest girl hi the world, miles 
 and miles above you and me ! " 
 
 " You can speak for yourself. I said she behaved 
 very well. It is unnecessary to compare her to 
 people hi a different rank of life. Now, do you 
 think you can lean on me, and so get back to Sleepy 
 Hollow ? " 
 
 "No, Flower. I cannot possibly stir. Look at 
 my foot ; it is twisted the wrong way." 
 
 " Then I must leave you, for Maggie has sent me 
 in a great hurry to get milk, and comforts of all sorts, 
 for baby." 
 
 "Please don't stay an instant. Run, Flower. 
 Why did you stay talking so long ? If father is in 
 the house, you can tell him, and he will come, I know, 
 and carry me home. But, oh ! get everything that 
 is wanted for baby first of all. I am not of the 
 smallest consequence compared to baby. Do run,
 
 LOOKING AT HERSELF. 213 
 
 Flower ; do be quick. It frets me so awfully to see 
 you lingering here when baby wants her comforts." 
 " I shan't be long," said Flower. She gathered 
 up her skirts, and sped down the path, and Polly 
 gave a sigh of real relief. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LOOKING AT HERSELF. 
 
 THAT night, which was long remembered in the 
 annals of the May bright family as one of the dreariest 
 and most terrible they had ever passed through 
 came to an end at last. With the early dawn Polly 
 was brought home, and about the same time Nurse 
 and Maggie reappeared with baby on the scene. 
 
 Flower, after she had briefly told her tidings, went 
 straight up to her own room, where she locked the 
 door, and remained deaf to all entreaties on David's 
 part that he might come in and console her. 
 
 " She's always dreadful after she has had a real 
 bad passion," he explained to Fly, who was following 
 him about like a little ghost. " I wish she would 
 let me in. She spends herself so when she is in a 
 passion that she is quite weak afterwards. She 
 ought to have a cup of tea ; I know she ought." 
 
 But it was in vain that David knocked, and that 
 little Fly herself, even though she felt that she hated 
 Flower, brought the tea. There was no sound at the 
 other side of the locked door, and after a time the 
 anxious watchers went away. 
 
 At that moment, however, had anybody been out 
 side, they might have seen pressed against the 
 window-pane in that same room a pale but eager face.
 
 2!4 POLLY. 
 
 Had they looked, too, they might have wondered at 
 the hard lines round the young, finely-cut lips, and 
 yet the eager, pleading watching in the eyes. 
 
 There was a stir in the distance the far-off sound 
 of wheels. Flower started to her feet, slipped the 
 bolt of her door, ran downstairs, and was off and 
 away to meet the covered carriage which was bring 
 ing baby home. 
 
 She called to George, who was driving it, to stop. 
 She got in, and seated herself beside Nurse and 
 baby. 
 
 " How is she ? Will she live ? " she asked, her 
 voice trembling. 
 
 " God grant it ! " replied the Nurse. " What are 
 you doing, Miss Flower? No, you shan't touch 
 her." 
 
 " I must ! Give her to me this moment. There 
 is Dr. Maybright. Give me baby this moment. I 
 must, I will, have her ! " 
 
 She almost snatched the little creature out of 
 Nurse's astonished arms, and as the carriage drew 
 up at the entrance steps sprang out, and put the 
 baby into Dr. Maybright arms. 
 
 " There I " she said ; " I took her away, but I 
 give her back. I was in a passion and angry when 
 I took her away ; now I repent, and am sorry, and I 
 give her back to you. Don't you see, I can't do more 
 than give her back to you ? That is our way out in 
 Victoria. Don't you slow English people under 
 stand ? I was angry ; now I am sorry. Why do you 
 all stand round and stare at me like that. Can any 
 body be more than sorry, or do more than give back 
 what they took ? " 
 
 " It is sometimes impossible to give back what we 
 took away, Flower," replied the Doctor, very gravely. 
 
 He was standing in the midst of his children j his
 
 LOOKING AT HERSELF. 215 
 
 face was white ; his eyes had a strained look in them ; 
 the strong hands with which he clasped little Pearl 
 trembled. He did not look again at Flows:.', who 
 shrank away as if she had received a blow, and crept 
 upstairs. 
 
 For the rest of the day she was lost sight of; 
 there was a great deal of commotion and excitement- 
 Polly, when she was brought home, was sufficiently 
 ill and suffering to require the presence of a doctor ; 
 little Pearl showed symptoms of cold, and for her 
 too a physician prescribed. 
 
 Why not Dr. Maybright ? The children were not 
 accustomed to strange faces and unfamiliar voices 
 when they were ill or in pain. Polly had a curious 
 feeling when the new doctor came to see her ; he pre 
 scribed and went away. Polly wondered if the world 
 was coming to an end ; she was in greater pain than 
 she had ever endured in her life, and yet she felt 
 quiet and peaceful. Had she gone up a step or two 
 of the mountain she so longed to climb ? Did she 
 hear the words of her mother's favorite song, and 
 was a Guide the Guide holding her childish hand ? 
 
 The hours of the long day passed somehow. 
 
 If there was calm in Polly's room, and despair 
 more or less in poor Flower's, the rest of the house 
 was kept in a state of constant excitement. The 
 same doctor came back again ; doors were shut and 
 opened quickly ; people whispered in the corridors. 
 As the hours flew on, no one thought of Flower in 
 her enforced captivity, and even Polly, but for 
 Maggie's ceaseless devotion, might have fared badly. 
 
 All day Flower Dairy mple remained in her room. 
 She was forgotten at meal-times. Had David been 
 at home, this would not have been the case ; but 
 Helen had sent David and her own little brothers to 
 spnd the day at Mrs. Jones's farm. Even the wildest
 
 216 POLLY. 
 
 spirits can be tamed and brought to submission by 
 the wonderful power of hunger, and so it came to pass 
 that in the evening a disheveled-looking girl opened 
 the door of her pretty room over the porch, and slipped 
 along the passages and downstairs. Flower went 
 straight to the dining-room ; she intended to provide 
 herself with bread and any other food she could 
 and, then to return to her solitary musings. She 
 thought herself extremely neglected, and the repent 
 ance and sense of shame which she had more or less 
 experienced in the morning and the memory of Dr. 
 Maybright's words -and the look in his grave eyes 
 had faded under a feeling of being unloved, forsaken, 
 forgotten. Even David had never come near her 
 David, who lived for her. Was she not his queen as 
 well as sister ? Was he not her dutiful subject as 
 well as her little brother ? 
 
 All the long day that Flower had spent in soli 
 tude her thoughts grew more and more bitter, and 
 only hunger made her now forsake her room. She 
 went into the dining-room ; it was a long, low room, 
 almost entirely lined with oak. There was a white 
 cloth on the long center table, in the middle of which 
 a lamp burnt dimly ; the French windows were open ; 
 the blinds were not drawn down. As Flower opened 
 the door, a strong cold breeze caused the lamp to flare 
 up and smoke, the curtains to shake, and a child to 
 move in a restless, fretful fashion on her chair. The 
 child was Firefly ; her eyes were so swollen with cry 
 ing that they were almost invisible under their heavy 
 red lids ; her hair was tossed ; the rest of her little 
 thin face was ghastly pale. 
 
 " Is that you, Flower ? " she exclaimed. " Are 
 you going to stay here ? If you are, I'll go away." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " said Flower. " You go 
 away ? You can go or stay, just as you please. I
 
 LOOKING AT HERSELF. 217 
 
 have come here because I want some food, and 
 because I've been shamefully neglected and starved 
 all day. Ring the bell, please, Fly. I really must 
 order up something to eat." 
 
 Fly rose from her chair. She had long, lanky legs 
 and very short petticoats, and as she stood half lean 
 ing against the wall, she looked so forlorn, pathetic, 
 and yet comical, that Flower, notwithstanding 
 her own anger and distress, could not help bursting 
 out laughing. 
 
 "What is the matter?" she said. "What an 
 extraordinary little being you are ! You look at me 
 as if you were quite afraid of me. For pity's sake, 
 child, don't stare at me in that gruesome fashion. 
 Ring the bell, as I tell you, and then if you please 
 you can leave the room." 
 
 There was a very deep leather arm-chair near the 
 fireplace. Into this now Flower sank. She leant 
 her head comfortably against its cushions, and gazed 
 at Firefly with a slightly sarcastic expression. 
 
 " Then you don't know ! " said Fly, suddenly. 
 " You sit there and look at me, and you talk of eat 
 ing, as if any one could eat. You don't know. You 
 wouldn't sit there like that if you really knew." 
 
 " I think you are the stupidest little creature I 
 ever met ! " responded Flower. " I'm tp know some 
 thing, and it's wonderful that I care to eat. I tell 
 you, child, I haven't touched food all day, and I'm 
 starving. What's the matter ? Speak ! I'll slap 
 you if you don't." 
 
 "There's bread on the sideboard," said Fly. 
 " I'm sorry you're starving. It's only that father is 
 ill ; that that he's very ill. I don't suppose it is 
 anything to you, or you wouldn't have done it." 
 
 " Give me that bread," said Flower. She turned 
 very white, snatched a piece out of Fly's hand, and
 
 218 POLLY. 
 
 put it to her lips. She did not swallow it, however. 
 A lump seemed to rise in her throat. 
 
 " I'm faint for want of food," she said in a minute. 
 " I'd like some wine. If David was here, he'd give 
 it to me. What's that about your father? 111? 
 He was quite well this morning ; he spoke to me." 
 
 She shivered. 
 
 "I'm awfully faint," she said in a moment. 
 " Please, Fly, be merciful. Give me half a glass of 
 sherry." 
 
 Fly started, rushed to the sideboard, poured a 
 little wine into a glass, and brought it to Flower. 
 
 " There ! " she said in a cold though broken-hearted 
 voice. " But you needn't faint ; he's not your father ; 
 you wouldn't have done it if he was your father." 
 
 Flower tossed off the wine. 
 
 " I'm better now," she said. 
 
 Then she rose from the deep arm-chair, stood up, 
 and put her two hands on Fly's shoulder. 
 
 " What have I done ? What do you accuse me 
 of?" 
 
 " Don't ! You hurt me, Flower ; your hands are 
 so hard." 
 
 " I'll take them off. What have I done ? " 
 
 " We are awfully sorry you came here. We all 
 are ; we all are." 
 
 "Yes? you can be sorry or glad, just as you 
 please ! What have I done ? " 
 
 " You have made father, our own father you have 
 made him ill. The doctor thinks perhaps he'll die, 
 and hi any case he will be blind." 
 
 " What horrid things you say, child! _ aaven't 
 done this." 
 
 " Yes. Father was out all last night. You took 
 baby away, and he went to look for her, and he 
 wasn't well before, and he got a chill. It was a bad
 
 LOOKING AT &ERSELF, 
 
 chill, and he has been ill all day. You did it, but 
 he wasn't your father. We are all so dreadfully 
 sorry that you came here." 
 
 Flower's hands dropped to her sides. Her eyes 
 curiously dilated, looked past Fly, gazing so intently 
 at something which her imagination conjured up 
 that the child glanced in a frightened way over her 
 shoulder. 
 
 "What's the matter, Flower? What are you 
 looking at?" 
 
 "Myself." 
 
 " But you can't see yourself." 
 
 " I can. Never mind. Is this true what you have 
 been telling me ? " 
 
 " Yes, it's quite true. I wish it was a dream, and 
 I might wake up out of it." 
 
 " And you all put this thing at my door ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course. Dr. Strong said Dr. Strong 
 has been here twice this evening he said it was be 
 cause of last night." 
 
 "Sometimes we can never give back what we take 
 away" These few words came back to Flower 
 now. 
 
 " And you all hate me ? " she said, after a pause. 
 
 " We don't love you, Flower ; how could we ? " 
 
 " You hate me ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Father wouldn't like us to hate 
 anybody." 
 
 " Where's Helen ? " 
 
 " She's in father's room." 
 
 And Polly ? " 
 
 " Polly is in bed. She's ill, too, but not in danger, 
 like father. The doctor says that Polly is not to 
 know about father for at any rate a day, so please be 
 careful not to mention this to her, Flower." 
 
 "No fear! "
 
 220 POLLY. 
 
 " Polly is suffering a good deal, but she's not un 
 happy, for she doesn't know about father." 
 
 " Is baby very ill, too ? " 
 
 "No. Nurse says that baby has escaped quite 
 wonderfully. She was laughing when I saw her last. 
 She has only a little cold." 
 
 " I am glad that I gave her to your father myself," 
 said Flower, in a queer, still voice. " I'm glad of 
 that. Is David anywhere about ? " 
 
 " No. He's at the farm. He's to sleep there to 
 night with Bob and Bunny, for there mustn't be 
 a stir of noise in the house." 
 
 " Well, well, I'd have liked to say good-bye to 
 David. You're quite sure, Fly, that you all think it 
 was -Tmade your father ill ? " 
 
 " Why, of course. You know it was." 
 
 " Yes, I know. Good-bye, Fly." 
 
 " Good-night, you mean. Don't you want some 
 thing to eat?" 
 
 " No. I'm not hungry now. It isn't good-night ; 
 it's good-bye." 
 
 Flower walked slowly down the long, low, dark 
 room, opened the door, shut it after her, and disap 
 peared. 
 
 Fly stood for a moment in an indifferent attitude 
 at the table. She was relieved that Flower had at 
 last left her, and took no notice of her words. 
 
 Flower went back to her room. Again she shut 
 and locked her door. The queer mood which had 
 been on her all day, half repentance, half petulance, 
 had completely changed. It takes a great deal to 
 make some people repent, but Flower Dalrymple 
 was now indeed and in truth facing the consequences 
 of her own actions. The words she had said to Fly 
 were quite true. She had looked at herself. Some 
 times that sight is very terrible. Her fingers
 
 THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND. 221 
 
 trembled, her whole body shook, but she did not take 
 a moment to make up her mind. They all hated 
 her, but not more than she hated herself. They 
 were quite right to hate her, quite right to feel 
 horror at her presence. Her mother had often spoken 
 to her of the consequences of unbridled passion, but 
 no words that her mother could ever have used came 
 up to the grim reality. Of course, she must go 
 away, and at once. She sat down on the side of her 
 bed, pressed her hand to her forehead, and reflected. 
 In the starved state she was in, the little drop of 
 wine she had taken had brought on a violent head 
 ache. For a time she found it difficult to collect her 
 thoughts. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND. 
 
 FLOWER quite made up her mind to go away 
 again. Her mood, however, had completely changed. 
 She was no longer in a passion ; on the contrary, she 
 felt stricken and wounded. She would go away now 
 to hide herself, because her face, her form, the sound 
 of her step, the echo of her voice, must be painful to 
 those whom she had injured. She shuddered as she 
 recalled Firefly's sad words 
 
 " Father says it is wrong to hate any one, but of 
 course we cannot love you." 
 
 She felt that she could never look Polly in the 
 face again, that Helen's gentle smile would be tor 
 ture to her. Oh, of course she must go away ; she 
 must go to-night. 
 
 She was very tired, for she had really scarcely 
 rested since her fit of mad passion, and the previous 
 night she had never gone to bed. Still all this mat-
 
 222 POLLY. 
 
 tered nothing. There was a beating in her heart 
 there was a burning sting of remorse awakened 
 within her, which made even the thought of rest 
 impossible. 
 
 Flower was a very wild and untaught creature ; 
 her ideas of right and wrong were of the crudest. 
 It seemed to her now that the only right thing was 
 to run away. 
 
 When the house was quiet, she once more opened 
 her little cabinet, and took from thence the last great 
 treasure which it contained. It was one solitary 
 splendid unset diamond. She had not the least 
 idea of its value, but she knew that it would prob 
 ably fetch a pound or two. She had not the least 
 notion of the value of money or of the preciousness 
 of the gem which she held in her hand, but she 
 thought it likely that it would supply her imme 
 diate needs. 
 
 The house was quite still now. She took off her 
 green cloth dress, put on a very plain one of black 
 cashmere, slipped a little velvet cap on her head, 
 wrapped a long white shawl round her, and thus 
 equipped opened her door, and went downstairs. 
 
 She was startled at the foot of the stairs to en 
 counter Maggie. Maggie was coming slowly up 
 wards as Flower descended, and the two girls 
 paused to look at one another. The lamps in 
 the passages were turned low, and Maggie held a 
 candle above her head : its light fell full on Flower. 
 
 " You mustn't go to Miss Polly on no account, 
 Miss Flower," said Maggie, adopting the somewhat 
 peremptory manner she had already used to Flower 
 in the hermit's hut. " Miss Polly is not to be fright 
 ened or put out in any way, leastways not to-night." 
 
 " You mean that you think I would tell her about 
 Pr. Maybright ? "
 
 WORTH OF A DIAMOND. 
 
 " Perhaps you would, Miss ; you're none too 
 sensible." 
 
 Flower was too crushed even to reply to this un 
 complimentary speech. After a pause, she said 
 
 "I'm not going to Polly. I'm going away. 
 Maggie, is it true that the that Dr. May bright is 
 very ill ? " 
 
 " Yes, Miss, the Doctor's despert bad." 
 
 Maggie's face worked ; her candle shook ; she put 
 up her other hand to wipe away the fast-flowing 
 tears. 
 
 " Oh, don't cry ! " said Flower, stamping her foot 
 impatiently. " Tears do no good, and it wasn't you 
 who did it." 
 
 " No, Miss, no, Miss ; that's a bit of a comfort. 
 I wouldn't be you, Miss Flower, for all the wide 
 world. Well, I must go now ; I'm a-sleeping in 
 Miss Polly's room to-night, Miss." 
 
 "Why, is Polly ill too?" 
 
 "Only her foot's bad. I mustn't stay, really 
 Miss Flower." 
 
 " Look here," said Flower, struck by a sudden 
 thought, " before you go tell me something. Your 
 mother lives in the village, does she not ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, Miss, just hi the main street, down 
 round by the corner. There's the baker's shop and 
 the butcher's, and you turn round a sharp corner, 
 and mother's cottage is by your side." 
 
 " I've a fancy to go and see her. Good-night." 
 
 " But not at this hour, surely, Miss ? " 
 
 " Why not ? I was out later last night." 
 
 " That's true. Well, I must go to Miss Polly now. 
 Don't you make any noise when your're coming in, 
 Miss ! Oh, my word ! " continued Maggie to herself, 
 " what can Miss Flower want with mother ? Well, 
 he is a contrary young lady, mischievous, and all
 
 224 POLLY. 
 
 that, and hasn't she wrought a sight of harm in this 
 yer house ! But for all that, mother'll be mighty 
 took up with her, for she's all for romance, mother is, 
 and Miss Flower's very uncommon. Well, it ain't 
 nought to do with me, and I'll take care to tell no 
 tales to Miss Polly, poor dear." 
 
 The night was still and calm ; the stars shone 
 peacefully ; the wind, which had come in gusts 
 earlier in the evening, had died down. It took 
 Flower a very few minutes to reach the village, 
 and she wasn't long in discovering Mrs. Ricketts' 
 humble abode. 
 
 That good woman had long retired to rest, but 
 Flower's peremptory summons on the door soon 
 caused a night-capped head to protrude out of a 
 window, a burst of astonishment to issue from a 
 wonder-struck pair of lips, and a moment later the 
 young lady was standing by Mrs. Ricketts' fireside. 
 
 " I'm proud to see you, Miss, and that I will say. 
 Set down, Miss, do now, and I'll light up the fire in 
 a twinkling." 
 
 " No, you needn't," said Flower. " I'm hot ; I'm 
 burning. Feel me ; a fire would drive me wild." 
 
 " To be sure, so you are, all in a fever like," said 
 Mrs. Ricketts, laying her rough hand for a moment 
 on Flower's dainty arm. " You'll let me light up 
 the bit of a paraffin lamp, then, Miss, for it ain't 
 often as I have the chance of seeing a young lady 
 come all the way from Australy." 
 
 " You can light the lamp if you like," said Flower. 
 " And you can stare at me as much as you please. 
 I'm just like any one else, only wickeder. I've come 
 to you, Mrs. Ricketts, because you're Maggie's 
 mother, and Maggie's a good girl, and I thought per 
 haps you would help me." 
 
 ** I'm obligated for the words of praise about my
 
 WORTH OF A DIAMOND. 225 
 
 daughter, Miss. Yes, she don't mean bad, Maggie 
 don't. What can I do to help you, Miss ? Any 
 thing in my power you are kindly welcome to." 
 
 " Have you ever seen a diamond, Mrs. Ricket's ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure, Miss." 
 
 " Diamonds are very valuable stones, you know." 
 
 "Maybe, Miss. They ain't in my way. I wish 
 you'd let me light you a bit of fire, Miss Flower. 
 You'll have the chills presently, Miss, for you're all 
 of a burning fever now." 
 
 " You can do anything you like in the way of fi*re 
 by-and-by. I have a diamond here. Shall I show 
 it to you?" 
 
 " Oh, law, Miss, I'm sure you are condescending." 
 
 " Come over close to the paraffin lamp. Now you 
 shall see. Doesn't it sparkle ! " 
 
 Mrs. Ricketts dropped a curtsey to the gem, 
 which, unpolished as it was, cast forth strange re 
 flections, giving her, as she afterwards explained, a 
 " queer feel " and a sense of chill down the marrow 
 of her back. 
 
 " This is very valuable," said Flower. " I don't 
 know what it is worth, but my father gave it to my 
 mother, and she gave it to me. She said it would 
 be well for me to have it in case of emergency. 
 Emergency has come, and I want to sell this stone. 
 It is very likely that whoever buys it from me will 
 become rich. Would you like it ? You shall have 
 it for what money you have in the house." 
 
 " Oh, law, Miss ! but I'm a very poor woman, Miss." 
 
 Mrs. Rickets curtseyed again, and drew closer. 
 " For all the world, it looks as if it were alive, Miss." 
 
 " All valuable diamonds look as if they lived. If 
 this were cut and polished it would dazzle you." 
 
 " And if I had it, I could sell it for a good bit of 
 money ? "
 
 POLLY. 
 
 "I am sure you could. I don't know for 
 much, but for more than I am likely to get frorr. 
 you." 
 
 "I'd like to pay Miss Polly back that pound a<? 
 Maggie took from her." 
 
 "Don't worry me about your debts. Will you 
 have this beautiful uncut diamond for the money 
 you have in the house ? " 
 
 Mrs. Ricketts did not reply for a moment. 
 
 " I have nine shillings and fourpence-halfpenny, " 
 she said at last, "and to-morrow is rent-day. Rent 
 will be eight shillings ; that leaves me one-and- 
 fourpence-halfpenny for food. Ef I give you all my 
 money, Miss, how am I to pay rent? And how are 
 the children to have food to-morrow ? " 
 
 " But you can sell the diamond. Why are you so 
 dreadfully stupid ? You can sell the diamond for 
 one, two, or perhaps three pounds. Then how rich 
 you will be." 
 
 " Oh, Miss ! there's no one hi this yer village 'ud 
 give away good money for a bit of a stone like that ; 
 they'd know better. My word ! it do send out a sort 
 of a flame, though ; it's wondrous to look upon ! " 
 
 " People will buy it from you in a town. Go to 
 the nearest town, take it to a jeweler, and see how 
 rich you will be when you come out of his shop. 
 There, I will give it to you for your nine-and-four- 
 pence-half penny." 
 
 Flower laid the diamond in the woman's hand. 
 
 " It seems to burn me like," she said. But all the 
 same her fingers closed over it, and a look of greed 
 and satisfaction filled her face. 
 
 " I don't know if I'm a-doin' right," she said, " for 
 perhaps this ain't worth sixpence, and then where's 
 the rent and the food ? But, all the same, I don't like 
 to say no to a pretty lady when she's in trouble,
 
 THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND. 227 
 
 Here's the nine-and-fourpence-half penny, Miss. 'I 
 earned it bit by bit by washing the neighbors' 
 clothes ; it wasn't easy come by ; there's labor in it, 
 and aches and dead-tiredness about it. You take it, 
 Miss. I only trust the diamond will repay what I 
 loses on that nine-and-fourpence-half penny." 
 
 Flower handled the money as if she thought it 
 dirty. 
 
 Without a word she slipped it into the pocket of 
 her dress. 
 
 " I am going away," she said. " They are angry 
 with me at Sleepy Hollow. I have done wrong. I 
 am not a bit surprised. I'm going away, so as not 
 to cause them any more trouble." 
 
 " Oh, law, now, Miss ! but they'll fret to part with 
 you." 
 
 " No, they won't. Anyhow, it isn't your affair. 
 I'm going away as soon as I possibly can. Can you 
 tell me where the nearest railway-station is ? " 
 
 " There's none closer than Everton, and that's a 
 matter of five mile from here." 
 
 " I must get there as quickly as possible. What 
 road shall I take?" 
 
 " Do you think, Miss, I'd let a pretty young lady 
 like you trape the lanes in the dead of night ? No, 
 no ; carrier goes between two and three in the morn 
 ing You might go with him, if you must go." 
 
 " That is a good thought. Where does the carrier 
 live?" 
 
 " Three doors from here. I'll run round presently 
 and tell him to call." 
 
 " Thank you. Do you think nine-and-fourpence- 
 halfpenny will take me to Bath ? " 
 
 " To Bath, Miss ? It might, if you condescended 
 fa third class." 
 
 Third class will do very well, Did you ever
 
 22S POLLY. 
 
 hear Polly May bright speak of an aunt of hers, a Mrs. 
 Cameron ? " 
 
 Mrs. Ricketts, whose back was half turned to 
 Flower while she shut and locked the box out of 
 which she had taken the precious nine-and-fourpence 
 halfpenny, now sprang to her feet, and began to speak 
 in a tone of great excitement. 
 
 "Did I hear of her?" she exclaimed. " Did I 
 hear of the woman for lady she ain't what turned 
 my Maggie out of her good place, and near broke 
 Miss Polly's heart ? Don't mention Mrs. Cameron, 
 please, Miss Flower, for talk of her I won't ; set 
 eyes on her I wouldn't, no, not if I was to receive a 
 pound for it ! " 
 
 " You needn't get so excited," said Flower ; " you 
 have not got to see Polly's aunt ; only I thought per 
 haps you could give me her address, for I am going 
 to her to-morrow." 
 
 " I wouldn't, Miss, if I was you." 
 
 " Yes, you would if you were me. What is Mrs. 
 Cameron's address?" 
 
 " I don't know as I can rightly tell you, Miss." 
 
 " Yes, you must. I see you know it quite well." 
 
 " Well then, well then you won't like her a bit, 
 Miss Flower." 
 
 " What's her address ? " 
 
 " Jasper Street ; I think it's Jasper Street." 
 
 " And the number ? She doesn't live in the whole 
 of Jasper Street." 
 
 " Now, was it a one and a six or a one and a 
 seven ? " queried Mrs. Ricketts. " Oh, Miss ! if I 
 was you, I wouldn't go near her ; but I think her 
 number is a one and a seven." 
 
 " Seventeen, you mean." 
 
 " Yes, that's it ; I was never great at counting."
 
 RELICS AND A WELCOME. 229 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 RELICS AND A WELCOME. 
 
 MRS. CAMERON'S house in Bath was decidedly old- 
 fashioned. It was a large, solemn, handsome man 
 sion ; its windows shone from constant cleaning ; its 
 paint was always fresh, its Venetian blinds in per 
 fect order. 
 
 When a certain wild, untidy, almost disreputable- 
 looking girl ran up its snow-white steps, and rang its 
 highly-polished brass bell, the neat parlor-maid who 
 answered her summons stared at her, and doubted a 
 good deal if Mrs. Cameron could see her. 
 
 " You had better step into the hall for a moment," 
 said the maid-servant, " and I'll inquire if my missis 
 is at leisure ; but if it's the new housemaid's place 
 you've come after " 
 
 Flower gasped ; she drew herself up, raised her 
 hand, and took off her small black velvet cap. 
 
 " You forget yourself ! " she said, with a haughti 
 ness which did not ill become her, notwithstanding 
 her untidy and dishevelled state. "My name is 
 Flower Dalrymple, and I have come from Sleepy 
 Hollow Please let your mistress know directly." 
 
 The parlor-maid, who saw her mistake, was pro 
 fuse in apologies. 
 
 She showed Flower into a dismal-looking dining- 
 room, and went up-stairs. 
 
 " Who is it, Ann ? " asked an anxious voice as she 
 prepared to ascend the richly-carpeted stairs. 
 
 A door was opened at the end of the passage, and
 
 POLLY. 
 
 a fusty, dusty-looking little man put in an appear 
 ance. 
 
 " Who is it, Ann ? Any one for me ? " 
 
 " A young lady as wants to see the missis, sir. Oh, 
 Mr. Cameron ! what a deal of dust you has brought 
 out into the 'all ! " 
 
 The little man looked meekly down at his dusty 
 garments. 
 
 " I have just been unpacking my last crate of 
 curiosities from China, Ann. Where is the young 
 lady ? Perhaps she would tike to see the relics " 
 
 "No, sir, that I'm sure she wouldn't; she's all 
 brown and spent like. She's for all the world like a 
 relic herself." 
 
 Ann tripped lightly up-stairs, and Mr. Cameron, 
 pushing his spectacles high up on his bald forehead, 
 looked with an anxious glance to right and left. 
 Then very quickly on tiptoe he crossed the hall, 
 opened the dining-room door, and went in. 
 
 "How are you, young lady? If you are very 
 quick, I can get you into my sanctum sanctorum. I 
 am just unpacking Chinese relics. I trust, I hope, 
 you are fond of relics." 
 
 Flower started to her feet. 
 
 " I thought, I certainly thought, Polly said Mrs. 
 Cameron," she remarked. " I don't think I shall be 
 at all afraid to live with you. I don't exactly know 
 what Chinese relics are, but I should love to see 
 them." 
 
 " Then quick, my dear, quick ! We haven't a min 
 ute to spare. She's sure to be down in a jift'y. 
 Now then, step on tiptoe across the hall. Ann has 
 the quickest ears, and she invariably reports. She's 
 not a nice girl, Ann isn't. She hasn't the smallest 
 taste for relics. My dear, there's an education in
 
 RELICS AND A WELCOME. 231 
 
 this room, but no one, no one who comes to the house, 
 cares to receive it." 
 
 While the little man was talking, he was rushing 
 across the wide hall, and down a long passage, 
 Flower's hand clasped in his. Finally he pushed 
 open a baize-lined door, hastily admitted himself 
 and Flower, and closed it behind them. The sanc 
 tum sanctorum was small, stuffy, dusty, dirty. 
 There were several chairs, but they were all piled 
 with relics, two or three tables were also crammed 
 with tokens of the past. Flower was very weary, 
 the dust and dirt made her sneeze, and she looked 
 longingly for even the smallest corner of a chair on 
 which to seat herself. 
 
 " I do want some breakfast so badly," she began. 
 
 " Breakfast ! My love, you shall have it presently. 
 Now then, we'll begin. This case that I have just 
 unpacked contains teeth and a small portion of a 
 jawbone. Ah ! hark ! what is that ? She is coming 
 already ! Will that woman never leave me in peace ? 
 My love, the object of my life, the one object of my 
 whole life, has been to benefit and educate the young 
 I thought at last I had found a pupil, but, ah, I fear 
 she is very angry ! " 
 
 The sound of a sharp voice was heard echoing 
 down the stairs and along the passage, a sharp, high- 
 pitched voice, accompanied by the sharper, shriller 
 barking of a small dog. 
 
 "Zeb! I say, Zeb! Zebedee, if you have taken 
 that young girl into your sanctum, I desire you to 
 send her out this moment." 
 
 The little man's face grew pale ; he pushed his 
 spectacles still higher on his forehead. 
 
 " There, my love, do you hear her ? I did my 
 best for you. I was beginning your education,"
 
 232 POLLY. 
 
 "Zeb! Zeb! Open the door this minute," was 
 shouted outside. 
 
 " You'll remember, my love, to your dying day, 
 that I showed you three teeth and the bit of a jaw 
 bone of a Chinaman who died a thousand years ago." 
 
 " Zeb ! " thundered the voice. 
 
 " Yap ! yap ! yap ! " barked the small dog. 
 
 You must go, my dear. She's a powerful woman. 
 She always has her way. There, let me push you out. 
 I wouldn't have her catch sight of me at this mo 
 ment for fifty pounds." 
 
 The green baize door was opened a tiny bit, a 
 violent shove was administered to Flower's back, and 
 she found herself in the arms of Mrs. Cameron, and 
 in extreme danger of having her nose bitten off by 
 the infuriated Scorpion. 
 
 " Just like Zebedee ! " exclaimed the good lady. 
 " Always struggling to impart the dry bones of ob 
 solete learning to the young ! Come this way, Miss 
 Miss what's your name ? " 
 
 " Dalrymple Flower Dalrymple." 
 
 " An outlandish title, worthy of Sleepy Hollow. 
 I have not an idea who you are, but come into the 
 dining-room." 
 
 " Might I might I have a little breakfast ? " 
 
 " Bless me, the child looks as if she were going to 
 faint ! Ann, Ann, I say ! Down, Scorpion ! You shall 
 have no cream if you bark any more. Ann, bring 
 half a glass of port wine over here, and make some 
 breakfast for Miss Miss Rymple as fast as you 
 can." 
 
 a Dalrymple, please ! " 
 
 " Don't worry me, child. I can't get my tongue 
 round long names. Now, what is it you are called ? 
 Daisy ? What in the world have you come to me 
 for, Daisy?"
 
 RELICS AND A WELCOME. 233 
 
 I'm Flower- 
 
 " Well, and isn't Daisy a flower ? Now then, Daisy 
 Ryraple, tell your story as quickly as possible. I 
 don't mind giving you breakfast, but I'm as busy as 
 possible to-day. I've six committee meetings on 
 between now and two o'clock. Say your say, Daisy, 
 and then you can go." 
 
 " But I've come to stay ! " 
 
 " To stay f Good gracious ! Scorpion, down, 
 sir ! Now, young lady, have you or have you not 
 taken leave of your senses ? " 
 
 " No, really. May I tell you my story ? " 
 
 " If you take ten minutes over it ; I won't give 
 you longer time." 
 
 "I'll try to get it into ten minutes. I'm an 
 Australian, and so is David. David is my brother. 
 We came over in the Australasia about six weeks 
 ago. Dr. May bright met us in London, and took us 
 down to Sleepy Hollow." 
 
 " Bless the man ! just like him. Had he any re 
 sponsible matron or spinster in the house, child ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; I don't think so. There was 
 Helen and Polly and " 
 
 " I don't want to hear about Polly ! Go on ; your 
 ten minutes will soon be up. Go on." 
 
 " A couple of days ago we went on a picnic I 
 have a way of getting into awful passions and 
 Polly Polly vexed me." 
 
 " Oh, she vexed you ? You're not the first that 
 young miss has vexed, I can tell you." 
 
 " She vexed me ; I oughtn't to have minded ; I got 
 into a passion ; I felt awful ; I ran away with baby," 
 
 " Goodness me ! what is the world coming to ? 
 You don't mean to say you have dared to bring the 
 infant here, Daisy ? " 
 
 " No, no. I ran away with her on to the
 
 234: POLLY. 
 
 I was so frightened, for I thought baby had died. 
 Then Maggie came, and she saved her life, and she 
 was brought home again." 
 
 " That's a good thing ; but I can't see why you 
 are troubling me with this story." 
 
 "Yesterday morning I gave baby back to Dr. 
 Maybright. He's not like other people ; he looked 
 at me, and his look pierced my heart. He said 
 something too, and then for the first time I began to 
 be really, really sorry. I went up to my room ; I 
 stayed there alone all day ; I was miserable " 
 
 " Served you right if you were, Daisy." 
 
 " In the evening I was so hungry, I went down 
 for food. I met Firefly ; she told me the worst." 
 
 " Then the baby died ? You really are an awful 
 girl, Daisy Rymple." 
 
 No. The baby is pretty well, and Polly, who 
 sprained her foot running after me, is pretty well ; 
 but it's it's Dr. Maybright the best man I ever 
 met a man who could have helped me and made me 
 a a good girl he's very, very ill, and they think he 
 may die. He wasn't strong, and he was out all night 
 looking for baby and me, and he got a bad chill, and 
 he he may be dead now. It was my doing ; Fly 
 told me so." 
 
 Flower laid her head on the table ; her long-sus 
 tained fortitude gave way ; she sobbed violently. 
 
 Her tears stained Mrs. Cameron's snowy table- 
 linen ; her head was pressed down on her hands ; 
 her face was hidden. She was impervious in her woe 
 to any angry words or to the furious barking of a 
 small dog. 
 
 At last a succession of violent shakes recalled her 
 to herself. 
 
 " Witt you sit up ? spoiling my damask and shed 
 ding tears into the excellent coffee I have made for
 
 RELICS AND A WELCOME. 335 
 
 you. Ah, that's better ; now I can see your face. 
 Don't you know that you are a very naughty, dan 
 gerous sort of girl ? " 
 
 " Yes, I know that quite well. Mother always said 
 that if I didn't check my passion I'd do great mis 
 chief some day." 
 
 " And right she was. I don't suppose the table- 
 linen will ever get over those coffee stains mixed with 
 tears. Now, have the goodness to tell me, Daisy, or 
 Ivy, or whatever you are called, why you have come 
 to tell this miserable, disgraceful story to me." 
 
 " Fly said they none of them could love me now." 
 
 " I should think not, indeed ! No one will love 
 such a naughty girl. What have you come to me 
 for?" 
 
 " I thought I could stay with you for a little until 
 there was another home found for me." 
 
 " Oh, ah ! Now at last we have come to the bottom 
 of the mystery. And I suppose you thought I'd pet 
 you and make much of you ? " 
 
 " I didn't. I thought you'd scold me and be very 
 cross. I came to you as a punishment, for Polly 
 always said you were the Grossest woman she ever 
 met." 
 
 " Polly said that ? Humph ! Now eat up your 
 breakfast quickly, Daisy. I'm going out. Don't stir 
 from this room until I come back." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron, who had come down-stairs in her 
 bonnet, slammed the dining-room door after her, 
 walked across the hall, and let herself out. It did 
 not take her many minutes to reach the telegraph 
 office. From there she sent a brief message to Helen 
 Maybright : 
 
 " Sorry your father is ill. Expect me this evening 
 with Daisy
 
 236 POLLY. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 VEEY BOUGH WEATHER. 
 
 WITH all her easy and languishing ways, Flower 
 Dalrymple had often gone through rough tunes. Her 
 life in Australia had given to her experiences both of 
 the extreme of luxury and the extreme of roughing, 
 but never hi the course of her young life did she go 
 through a more uncomfortable journey than that 
 from Mrs. Cameron's house in Bath to Sleepy 
 Hollow. It was true that Scorpion, Mrs. Cameron, 
 and Flower, traveled first-class; it was true also 
 that where it was necessary for them to drive the 
 best carriages to be procured were at their service ; 
 but, as on all and every occasion Scorpion was king 
 of the ceremonies these arrangements did not add to 
 Flower's comfort. Mrs. Cameron, who felt seriously 
 angry with the young girl, addressed all her conver 
 sation to the dog, and as the dog elected to sit on 
 Flower's lap, and snapped and snarled whenever she 
 moved, and as Mrs. Cameron's words were mostly 
 directed through the medium of Scorpion at her, her 
 position was not an agreeable one. 
 
 " Ah-ha, my dear doggie ! " said the good lady. 
 " Somebody has come to the wrong box, has she not ? 
 Somebody thought I would take her in, and be kind 
 to her, and pet her, and give her your cream, did she 
 not ? But no one shall have my doggie's cream ; no, 
 that they shan't ! " 
 
 "Mrs. Cameron," said Flower, when these par 
 ticularly clever and lucid remarks had continued for
 
 VERY ROUGH WEATHER. 237 
 
 nearly an hour, " may I open the window of the 
 carriage at this side ? I'm quite stifling." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron laid a firm, fat hand up^r. the 
 window cord, and bent again over the pampered 
 Scorpion. 
 
 " And is my doggie's asthma not to be considered 
 for the sake of somebody who ought not to be here, 
 who was never invited nor wished for, and is now to 
 be returned like a bad penny to where she came from ? 
 Is my own dearest little dog to suffer for such a per 
 son's whims ? Oh, fie ! oh, fie ! Well, come here 
 my Scorpion ; your mistress won't reject you." 
 
 For Flower, in a fit of ungovernable temper, had 
 suddenly dashed the petted form of Scorpion to the 
 ground. 
 
 The poor angry girl now buried herself in the 
 farthest corner of the railway carriage. From there 
 she could hear Mrs. Cameron muttering about 
 "somebody's " temper, and hoping that "some 
 body " would not get her deserts. 
 
 These remarks, uttered several times, frightened 
 Flower so much that at last she looked up, and said, 
 in a queer, startled voice, 
 
 " You don't think Dr. Maybright is going to die ? 
 You can't be so awfully wicked as to think that." 
 
 " Oh, we are wicked, are we, Scorpion ? " said 
 Mrs. Cameron, her fat hand gently stroking down 
 Scorpion's smooth fur from tip to tail. " Never mind, 
 Scorpion, my own ; never mind. When the little 
 demon of temper gets into somebody she isn't quite 
 accountable, is she ? " 
 
 Flower wondered if any restraining power would 
 keep her from leaping out of the window. 
 
 But even the weariest journey comes to an end at 
 last, and twenty-four hours after she had left Sleepy 
 Hollow, Flower, feeling the most subdued, the most
 
 238 POLLY. 
 
 abject, the most brow-beaten young person in Christ 
 endom, returned to it. Towards the end of the 
 journey she felt impervious to Mrs. Cameron's sly 
 allusions, and Scorpion growled and snapped at 
 her in vain. Her whole heart was filled with one 
 overpowering dread. How should she find the 
 Doctor ? Was he better ? Was he worse ? Or had 
 all things earthly come to an end for him ; and had 
 he reached a place where even the naughtiest girl 
 in all the world could vex and trouble him no 
 longer ? 
 
 When the hired fly drew up outside the porch, 
 Flower suddenly remembered her first arrival the 
 gay " Welcome " which had waved above her head ; 
 the kind, bright young faces that had come out of 
 the darkness to greet her ; the voice of the head of 
 the house, that voice which she was so soon to learn 
 to love, uttering the cheeriest and heartiest words of 
 greeting. Now, although Mrs. Cameron pulled the 
 hall-door bell with no uncertain sound, no one, for a 
 tune at least, answered the summons, and Flower, 
 seizing her opportunity, sprang out of the fly and 
 rushed into the house. 
 
 The first person she met, the very first, was Polly. 
 Polly was sitting at the foot of the stairs, all alone. 
 She had seated herself on the bottom step. Her 
 knees were huddled up almost to her chin. Her 
 face was white, and bore marks of tears. She 
 scarcely looked up when Flower ran to her. 
 
 " Polly ! Polly ! How glad I am you at least are 
 not very ill." 
 
 Is that you, Flower ? " asked Polly. 
 
 She did not seem surprised, or in any way af 
 fected. 
 
 "Yes, my leg does still ache very much. But 
 yrhat of that 9 What of anything now? He is
 
 VERY ROUGH WEATHER. 
 
 worse ! They have sent for another doctor. The 
 doctor from London is up-stairs; he's with him. 
 I'm waiting here to catch him when he comes down, 
 for I must know the very worst." 
 
 " The very worst ! " echoed Flower in a feeble 
 tone. 
 
 She tumbled down somehow on to the stairs 
 beside Polly, and the next instant her death-like 
 face lay in Polly's lap. 
 
 " Now, my dear, you need not be hi the least 
 frightened," said a shrill voice in Polly's ears. " A 
 most troublesome young person! a most trouble 
 some ! She has just fainted ; that's all. Let me 
 fetch a jug of cold water to pour over her." 
 
 " Is that yow, Aunt Maria ? " said Polly. " Oh 
 yes, there was a telegram, but we forgot all about 
 it. And is that Scorpion, and is he going to bark ? 
 But he mustn't ! Please kneel down here, Aunt 
 Maria, and hold Flower's head. Whatever happens 
 Scorpion mustn't bark. Give him to me ! " 
 
 Before Mrs. Cameron had time to utter a word or 
 in any way to expostulate, she found herself dragged 
 down beside Flower, Flower's head transferred 
 to her capacious lap, and the precious Scorpion 
 snatched out of her arms. Polly's firm, muscular 
 young fingers tightly held the dog's mouth, and in 
 an instant Scorpion and she were out of sight. 
 Notwithstanding all his fighting and struggling and 
 desperate efforts to free himself, she succeeded in 
 carrying him to a little deserted summer pagoda at 
 a distant end of the garden. Here she locked him 
 in, and allowed him to suffer both cold and hunger 
 for the remainder of the night. 
 
 There are times when even the most unkind are 
 softened. Mrs. Cameron was not a sympathetic per 
 son. She was a great philanthropist, it is true, and.
 
 fcOLLY. 
 
 was much esteemed, especially by those people who 
 did not know her well. But love, the real name 
 for what the Bible calls charity, seldom found an 
 entrance into her heart. The creature she devoted 
 most affection to was Scorpion. But now, as she 
 sat in the still house, which all the time seemed to 
 throb with a hidden intense life ; when she heard 
 in the far distance doors opening gently and stifled 
 sobs and moans coming from more than one young 
 throat ; when she looked down at the deathlike face 
 of Flower she really did forget herself, and rose 
 for once to the occasion. 
 
 Very gently for she was a strong woman she 
 lifted Flower, and carried her into the Doctor's 
 study. There she laid her on a sofa, and gave her 
 restoratives, and when Flower opened her dazed 
 eyes she spoke to her more kindly than she had 
 done yet. 
 
 " I have ordered something for you, which you 
 are to take at once," she said. " Ah ! here it is ! 
 Thank you, Alice. Now, Daisy, drink this off at 
 once." 
 
 It was a beaten-up egg in milk and brandy, and 
 when Flower drank it she felt no longer giddy, and 
 was able to sit up and look around her. 
 
 In the meantime Polly and all the other children 
 remained still as mice outside the Doctor's door. 
 They had stolen on tiptoe from different quarters of 
 the old house to this position, and now they stood 
 perfectly still, not looking at one another or uttering 
 a sound, but with their eyes fixed with pathetic 
 earnestness and appeal at the closed door. When 
 would the doctors come out? When would the 
 verdict be given ? Minutes passed. The children 
 found this time of tension an agony. 
 
 tt 1 can't bear it ! " sobbed Firefly at last.
 
 VERY ROUGH WEATHER. 241 
 
 But the others said, " Hush ! " so peremptorily, 
 and with such a total disregard for any one person's 
 special emotions, that the little girl's hysterical fit 
 was nipped in the bud. 
 
 At last there was a sound of footsteps within the 
 room, and the local practitioner, accompanied by the 
 great physician from London, opened the door care 
 fully and came out. 
 
 " Go in and sit with your father," said one of the 
 doctors to Helen. 
 
 Without a word she disappeared into the darkened 
 room, and all the others, including little Pearl in 
 Nurse's arms, followed the medical men down-stairs. 
 They went into the Doctor's study, where Flower 
 was still lying very white and faint on the sofa. 
 Fortunately for the peace of the next quarter of an 
 hour Mrs. Cameron had taken herself off in a vain 
 search for Scorpion. 
 
 " Now," said Polly, when they were all safely in 
 the room she took no notice of Flower ; she did not 
 even see her " now please speak ; please tell us the 
 whole truth at once." 
 
 She went up and laid her hand on the London 
 physician's arm. 
 
 " The whole truth ? But I cannot do that, my 
 dear young lady," he said, in hearty, genial tones. 
 " Bless me ! " turning to the other doctor, " do all 
 these girls and boys belong to Maybright ? And so 
 you want the whole truth, Miss Miss " 
 
 " I'm called Polly, sir." 
 
 " The whole truth, Polly ? Only God knows that. 
 Your father was in a weak state of health ; he had a 
 shock and a chill. We feared mischief to the brain. 
 Oh no, he is by no means out of the wood yet. Still 
 I have hope of him ; I have great hope. What do 
 you say, Strong? Symptoms have undoubtedly
 
 24:2 POLLY. 
 
 taken a more favorable turn during the last hour or 
 two." 
 
 " I quite agree with you, Sir Andrew," said the 
 local practitioner, with a profound bow. 
 
 " Then, my dear young lady, my answer to you, to 
 all of you, is that, although only God knows the 
 whole truth, there is, in my opinion, considerable 
 hope yes, considerable. I'll have a word with you 
 in the other room, Strong. Good-bye, children ; 
 keep up your spirits. I have every reason to think 
 well of the change which has set in within the last 
 hour." 
 
 The moment the doctors left the room Polly 
 looked eagerly round at the others. 
 
 " Only God knows the truth," she said. " Let us 
 pray to him this very minute. Let's get on our 
 knees at once." 
 
 They all did so and all were silent." 
 
 " What are we to say, Polly ? " asked Firefly at 
 last. " I never did * aloud prayers ' since mother 
 died." 
 
 Hush ! There's the Lord's Prayer," said Polly. 
 " Won't somebody say it ? My voice is choking." 
 
 " I will," said Flower. 
 
 Nobody had noticed her before; now she came 
 forward, knelt down by Polly's side, and repeated 
 the prayer of prayers in a steady voice. When it 
 was over, she put up her hands to her face and re 
 mained silent. 
 
 " What are you saying now ? " asked Firefly, pull 
 ing at her skirt. 
 
 "Something about myself." 
 
 What is that? " they all asked. 
 
 "I've been the wickedest girl in the whole of 
 England. I have been asking God to forgive me."
 
 A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. 243 
 
 " Oh, poor Flower ! " echoed the children, touched 
 by her dreary, forsaken aspect. 
 
 Polly put her arms round her and kissed her. 
 
 " We have quite forgiven you, so of course God 
 will," she said. 
 
 " How noble you are ! Will you be my friend ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you want to have me. Oh, children ! " 
 continued Polly, "do you think we can any of 
 us ever do anything naughty again if father gets 
 better?" 
 
 " He will get better now," said Firefly. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. 
 
 WHETHER it was the children's faith or the 
 children's prayer, certain it is that from that mo 
 ment the alarming symptoms in connection with Dr. 
 Maybright's illness abated. It was some days be 
 fore he was pronounced out of danger, but even that 
 happy hour arrived in due course, and one by one 
 his children were allowed to come to see him. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron meanwhile arranged matters pretty 
 much as she pleased down-stairs. Helen, who from 
 the first had insisted on nursing her father herself, 
 had no time to housekeep. Polly's sprained ankle 
 would not get well in a minute, and, besides, other 
 circumstances had combined to reduce that young 
 lady's accustomed fire and ardor. Consequently, 
 Mrs. Cameron had matters all her own way, and 
 there is not the least doubt that she and Scorpion 
 between them managed to create a good deaf of 
 moral and physical disquietude. 
 
 *' Well," she said to herself, " when all is said and
 
 POLLY. 
 
 done, that poor man who is on the flat of his back 
 up-stairs is my sainted Helen's husband ; and if at 
 such a time as this Maria Cameron should harbor 
 ill-will in her heart it would but ill become the 
 leader of some of the largest philanthropic societies 
 in Bath. No, for the present my place is here, and 
 no black looks, nor surly answers, nor impertinent 
 remarks, will keep Maria Cameron from doing her 
 duty." 
 
 Accordingly Mrs. Power gave a month's notice, 
 and Alice wept so profusely that her eyes for the 
 time being were seriously injured. Scorpion bit the 
 new kitchen-maid Jane twice, who went into hyster 
 ics and expected hydrophobia daily. But not 
 withstanding these and sundry other fracas, Mrs. 
 Cameron steadily pursued her way. She looked 
 into account-books, she interviewed the butcher, she 
 dismissed the baker, she overhauled the store-room, 
 and after her own fashion and a disagreeable fash 
 ion it was did a good deal of indirect service to the 
 family. 
 
 Flower in particular she followed round so con 
 stantly and persistently that the young girl began to 
 wonder if Mrs. Cameron seriously and really intended 
 to punish her, by now bereaving her of her senses. 
 
 " I don't think I can stand it much longer," said 
 Flower to Polly. " Last night I was in bed and 
 asleep when she came in. I was awfully tired, and 
 had just fallen into my first sleep, when that de 
 testable dog snapped at my nose. There was Mrs. 
 Cameron standing in the middle of the room with a 
 lighted candle in her hand. 'Get up,' she said. 
 What for ? ' I asked. * Get up this minute ! ' she 
 said, and she stamped her foot. I thought perhaps 
 she would disturb your father, for my room is not 
 far away from his, so I tumbled out of bed. ' Now,
 
 A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. 24:5 
 
 what is the matter ? ' I asked. * The matter ? ' said 
 Mrs. Cameron. Thafs the matter ! and that's the 
 matter ! and that's the matter ! ' And what do you 
 think? She was pointing to my stockings and 
 shoes, and my other clothes. I always do leave 
 them in a little heap in the middle of the floor; 
 they're perfectly comfortable there, and it doesn't 
 injure them in th least. Well ! that awful woman 
 woke me out of my sleep to put them by. She stood 
 over me, and made me fold the clothes up, and shake 
 out the stockings, and put the shoes under a chair, 
 and all the time that fiendish dog was snapping at 
 my heels. Oh, it's intolerable ! I'll be in a lunatic 
 asylum if this goes on much longer ! " 
 
 Polly laughed ; she could not help it ; and Firefly 
 and David, who were both listening attentively, 
 glanced significantly at one another. 
 
 The next morning, very, very early, Firefly was 
 awakened by a bump. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, 
 and murmured, " All right ! " under her breath. 
 
 "Put something on, Fly, and be quick," whis 
 pered David's voice from the door. 
 
 Firefly soon tumbled into a warm frock, a thick 
 outdoor jacket, and a little fur cap ; her shoes and 
 stockings were tumbled on anyhow. Holding her 
 jacket together for she was in too great a hurry to 
 fasten it she joined David. 
 
 " I did it last night," he said ; " it's a large hole ; 
 he'll never be discovered there. And now the thing 
 is to get him." 
 
 " Oh, Dave, how will you manage that ? " 
 
 " Trust me, Fly. Even if I do run a risk, I don't 
 care. Anything is better than the chance of Flower 
 getting into another of her passions." 
 
 " Oh, anything, of course," said Fly. " Are you 
 going to kill him, Dave ? "
 
 K)LLY. 
 
 " No. The hole is big ; he can move about ill it 
 What I thought of was this we'd sell him." 
 
 Sell him ? But he isn't ours." 
 
 "No matter! He's a public nuisance, and he 
 must be got rid of. There are often men wander 
 ing on the moor who would be glad to buy a small 
 dog like Scorpion. They'd very likely give us a 
 shilling for him. Then we'd drop the shilling into 
 Mrs. Cameron's purse. Don't you see ? She'd never 
 know how it got there. Then, you understand, it 
 would really have been Mrs. Cameron who sold 
 Scorpion." 
 
 " Oh, delicious ! " exclaimed Fly. " She'd very 
 likely spend the money on postage stamps to send 
 round begging charity letters." 
 
 " So Scorpion would have done good in the end," 
 propounded David. " But come along now, Fly. 
 The difficult thing is to catch the little brute." 
 
 It was still very early in the morning, and the 
 corridors and passages were quite dark. David and 
 Fly, however, could feel their way about like little 
 mice, and they soon found themselves outside the 
 door of the green room, which was devoted to Mrs. 
 Cameron. 
 
 " Do you feel this ! " said David, putting out his 
 hand and touching Fly. " This is a long towel ; 
 I'm winding part of it round my hand and arm. 
 T don't want to get hydrophobia, like poor Jane. 
 Now, I'm going to creep into Mrs. Cameron's room so 
 quietly, that even Scorpion won't wake. I learned 
 how to do that from the black people hi Australia. 
 You may stand there, Fly, but you won't hear even 
 a pin fall till I come back with Scorpion." 
 
 If I don't hear, I feel," replied F)y. " My heart 
 does thump so. I'm just awfully excited. Don't b 
 very long away, Dave."
 
 A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. 247 
 
 By this time David had managed to unhasp the 
 door. He pushed it open a few inches, and then lay 
 flat down on his face and hands. The next moment 
 he had disappeared into the room, and all was pro 
 foundly still. Fly could hear through the partly open 
 door the gentle and regularly kept- up sound of a duct 
 of snoring. After three or four minutes the duet 
 became a solo. Still there was no other sound, not a 
 gasp, not even the pretense of a bark. More minutes 
 passed by. Had David gone to sleep on the floor ? 
 Was Scorpion dead that he had ceased to snore ? 
 
 These alarming thoughts had scarcely passed 
 through her mind before David rejoined her. 
 
 " He's wrapped up in this towel," he said. " He's 
 kicking with his hind legs, but he can't get a squeak 
 out ; now come along." 
 
 Too careless and happy in the success of their 
 enterprise even to trouble to shut Mrs. Cameron's 
 door, the two children rushed down-stairs and out of 
 the house. They effected their exit easily by opening 
 the study window. In a moment or two they were 
 in the shrubbery. 
 
 " The hole isn't here," said David. " Somebody 
 might find him here and bring him back, and that 
 would never do. Do you remember Farmer Long's 
 six-acre field ? " 
 
 "Where he keeps the bull?" exclaimed Fly. 
 " You haven't made the hole there, Dave ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have, in one corner ! It's the best place 
 in all the world, for not a soul will dare to come near 
 the field while the bull is there. You needn't be 
 frightened, Fly ! He's always taken home at night ! 
 He's not there now. But don't you see how he'll 
 guard Scorpion all day ! Even Mrs. Cameron won't 
 dare to go near the field while the bull is there." 
 
 ** I see 1 " responded Fly, in an appreciative voice.
 
 248 POLLY. 
 
 " You're a very clever boy, Dave. Now let's come 
 quick and pop him into the hole." 
 
 Farmer Long's six-acre field was nearly a quarter 
 of a mile away, but the children reached it in good 
 time, and Fly looked down with interest on the scene 
 of David's excavations. The hole, which must have 
 given the little boy considerable labor, was nearly 
 three feet deep, and about a foot wide. In the bot 
 tom lay a large beef bone. 
 
 " He won't like it much ! " said David. " His 
 teeth aren't good ; he can only eat chicken bones, but 
 hunger will make him nibble it by and by. Now, 
 Fly, will you go behind that furze bush and bring 
 me a square, flat board, which you will find there ? " 
 
 " What a funny board ! " said Fly, returning in a 
 moment. " It's all over little square holes." 
 
 "Those are for him to breathe through," said 
 David. " Now then, master, here you go ! You won't 
 annoy any one in particular here, unless, perhaps, 
 you interfere with Mr. Bull's arrangements. Hold 
 the board over the top of the hole, so, Fly. Now 
 then, I hope you'll enjoy yourself, my dear amiable 
 little friend." 
 
 The bandage which firmly bound Scorpion's 
 mouth was removed. He was popped into the hole, 
 and the wooden cover made fast over the top. The 
 children went home, vowing eternal secrecy, which 
 not even tortures should wring from them. 
 
 At breakfast that morning Mrs. Cameron appeared 
 late on the scene. Her eyes were red with weeping. 
 -She also looked extremely cross. 
 
 " Helen, I must request you to have some fresh 
 coffee made for me. I cannot bear half cold coffee. 
 Daisy, have the goodness to ring the bell. Yes, my 
 dear children, I am late. I have a sad reason for 
 being late ; the dog is nowhere to be found,"
 
 A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. 249 
 
 A gleam of satisfaction filled each young face. 
 Fly, crimsoning greatly, lowered her eyes ; but David 
 looked tranquilly full at Mrs. Cameron. 
 
 " Is it that nice little Scorpion ? " he asked. " I'm 
 awfully sorry, but I suppose he went for a walk." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron glanced with interest at David's 
 sympathetic face. 
 
 " No, my dear boy, that isn't his habit. The dear 
 little dog sleeps, as a rule, until just the last moment. 
 Then I lift him gently, and carry him down-stairs for 
 his cream." 
 
 " I wonder how he likes that bare beef bone ? " 
 murmured Fly, almost aloud. 
 
 " He's sure to come home for his cream in a 
 moment or two ! " said David. 
 
 He gave Fly a violent kick under the table. 
 
 " Helen," said Mrs. Cameron, " be sure you keep 
 Scorpion's cream." 
 
 " There isn't any," replied Helen. " I was obliged 
 to send it up to father. There was not nearly so 
 much cream as usual this morning. I had scarcely 
 enough for father." 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me you have used up 
 the dog's cream ? " exclaimed Mrs. Cameron. " Well, 
 really, that is too much. The little animal will 
 starve, he can't touch anything else. Oh, where is 
 he ? My little, faithful pet ! My lap feels quite 
 empty without him. My dear children, I trust you 
 may never love love a little creature as I love 
 Scorpion, and then lose him. Yes, I am seriously 
 uneasy, the dog would not have left me of his own 
 accord." 
 
 Here, to the astonishment of everybody, and the 
 intense indignation of Mrs. Cameron, Fly burst into 
 a scream of hysterical laughter, and hid her face hi 
 Polly's neck-
 
 250 POLLY. 
 
 " What a naughty child ! " exclaimed the good 
 lady. " You have no sympathy with my pet, my dar 
 ling ! Speak this minute. Where is the dog, miss ? " 
 
 " I expect in his grave," said Fly. 
 
 Whereupon Dave suddenly disappeared under the 
 table, and all the others stared in wonder at Fly. 
 
 " Firefly, do you know anything ? " 
 
 " I expect Scorpion is in his grave. Where is the 
 use of making such a fuss ? " responded Fly. 
 
 And she made a precipitate retreat out of the 
 window. 
 
 All the remainder of that day was occupied in a 
 vain search for the missing animal. Mrs. Cameron 
 strongly suspected Firefly, but the only remark the 
 little girl could be got to make was 
 
 " I am sure Scorpion is in his grave." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron said that was no answer, and 
 further insisted that the child should be severely 
 punished. But as in reply to that, Helen said firmly 
 that as long as father was in the house no one should 
 punish the children but him, she felt, for the pres 
 ent, at least, obliged to hold her sense of revenge in 
 check. 
 
 After Fly had gone to bed that night, David crept 
 into her room. 
 
 <4 I've done it all now," he said. " I sold Scorpion 
 to-night for a shilling to a man who was walking 
 across the moor, and I have just popped the shilling 
 into Mrs. Cameron's purse. The horrid little brute 
 worked quite a big hole hi the bottom of the grave, 
 Fly, and he nearly snapped my fingers off when I 
 lifted him out to give him to Jones. But he's away 
 now, that's a comfort. What a silly thing you were, 
 Fly, to burst out laughing at breakfast, and then say 
 that Scorpion was in his grave."
 
 A DiLfiMMA, 
 
 tt But it was so true, David. That hole looked 
 exactly like a grave." 
 
 " But you have drawn suspicion upon you. Now, 
 Mrs. Cameron certainly doesn't suspect me. See 
 what she has given me : this beautiful new two- 
 shilling piece. She said I was a very kind boy, and 
 had done my best to find her treasure for her." 
 
 " Oh, Dave, how could you take it ! " 
 
 " Couldn't I, just ! I'm not a little muff, like you. 
 I intend to buy a set of wickets with this. Well, 
 good-night, Fly; nobody need fear hydrophobia 
 after this good day's work." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A. DILEMMA. 
 
 A NIGHT'S sleep had by no means improved Mrs. 
 Cameron's temper. She came down-stairs the next 
 morning so snappish and disagreeable, so much in 
 clined to find fault with everybody, and so little 
 disposed to see the faintest gleam of light in any 
 direction, that the children almost regretted Scor 
 pion's absence, and began to wonder if, after all, he 
 was not a sort of safety-valve for Mrs. Cameron, and 
 more or less essential to her existence. 
 
 Hitherto this good woman had not seen her 
 brother-in-law ; and it was both Helen's and Polly's 
 constant aim to keep her from the sick room. 
 
 It was several days now since the Doctor was pro 
 nounced quite out of danger ; but the affection of his 
 eyes, which had caused his children so many anxious 
 fears, had become much worse. As the London 
 oculist had told him, any shock or chill would do
 
 252 POLLY. 
 
 this ; and there was now no doubt whatever that for 
 a time, at least, he would have to live in a state of 
 total darkness. 
 
 " It is a dreadful fate," said Helen to Polly. " Oh 
 yes, it is a dreadful fate, but we must not complain, 
 for anything is better than losing him." 
 
 "Anything truly," replied Polly. "Why, what 
 is the matter, Flower ? How you stare." 
 
 Flower had been lying full-length on the old sofa 
 in the school-room ; she now sprang to her feet, and 
 came up eagerly to the two sisters. 
 
 "Could a person do this," she said, her voice 
 trembling with eagerness " Could such a thing as 
 this be done : could one give their eyes away ? " 
 
 " Flower ! " 
 
 " Yes, I mean it. Could I give my eyes to Dr. 
 Maybright I mean just do nothing at all but read to 
 him and look for him manage so that he should 
 know everything just through my eyes. Can I do 
 it ? If I can, I will." 
 
 But, Flower, you are not father's daughter," said 
 Polly hi an almost offended tone. " You speak, 
 Flower you speak as if he were all the world to 
 you." 
 
 " So he is all the world to me ! " said Flower. " I 
 owe him reparation, I owe him just everything. 
 Yes, Helen and Polly, I think I understand how to 
 keep your father from missing his eyes much. Oh, 
 how glad I am, how very glad I am ! " 
 
 From that moment Flower became more or less a 
 changed creature. She developed all kinds of quali 
 ties which the Maybrights had never given her credit 
 for. She had a degree of tact which was quite 
 astonishing in a child of her age. There was never a 
 jarring note in her melodious voice. With her 
 impatience gone, and her fiery, passionate temper
 
 A DILEMMA. 253 
 
 soothed, she was just the girl to be a charming com 
 panion to an invalid. 
 
 However restless the Doctor was, he grew quieter 
 when Flower stole her little hand into his ; and when 
 he was far too weak and ill and suffering to bear any 
 mere reading aloud, he could listen to Flower as she 
 recited one wild ballad after another. 
 
 Flower had found her mission, and she was seldom 
 now long away from the Doctor's bedside. 
 
 " Don't be jealous, Polly," said Helen. " All this 
 is saving Flower, and doing father good." 
 
 "There is one comfort about it," said Polly, "that 
 as Aunt Maria perfectly detests poor Flower, or 
 Daisy, as she calls her, she is not likely to go into 
 father's room." 
 
 " That is true ! " said Helen. " She came to the 
 room door the other day, but Flower was repeating 
 ' Hiawatha,' and acting it a little bit you know she 
 can't help acting anything she tries to recite and 
 Aunt Maria just threw up her hands and rolled her 
 eyes, and went away." 
 
 " What a comfort ! " said Polly, " Whatever 
 happens, we must never allow the dreadful old thing 
 to come near father." 
 
 Alack ! alas ! something so bad had happened, 
 so terrible a tragedy had been enacted, that even 
 Flower and Hiawatha combined could no longer keep 
 Mrs. Cameron away from her brother-in-law's apart 
 ment. 
 
 On the second day after Scorpion's disappearance, 
 the good woman called Helen aside, and spoke some 
 words which filled her with alarm. 
 
 "My dear!" she said, "I am very unhappy. 
 The little dog, the little sunbeam of my life, is lost. 
 I am convinced, Helen ! yes, I am convinced, that 
 there is foul play in the matter. You, every one of
 
 254: POLLY. 
 
 you, took a most unwarrantable dislike to the poor, 
 faithful little animal. Yes, every one of you, with 
 the exception of David, detested my Scorpion, and I 
 am quite certain that you all know where he now 
 is." 
 
 " But really, Aunt Maria," said Helen, her fair face 
 flushing, " really, now, you don't seriously suppose 
 that I had anything to say to Scorpion's leaving 
 you." 
 
 "I don't know, my dear. I exonerate David. 
 Yes, David is a good boy ; he was attached to the 
 dog, and I quite exonerate him. But as to the rest 
 of you, I can only say that I wish to see your father 
 on the subject." 
 
 " Oh ! Aunt Maria ; you are not going to trouble 
 father, so ill as he is, about that poor, miserable little 
 dog?" 
 
 " Thank you, Helen ! thank you ! poor miserable 
 little dog indeed. Ah ! my dear, you have let the cat 
 out of the bag now. Yes, my dear I insist on seeing 
 your father with regard to the poor, miserable little 
 dog. Poor, indeed, am I without him, my little 
 treasure, my little faithful Scorpion." Here Mrs. 
 Cameron applied her handkerchief to her eyes, and 
 Helen walked to the window, feeling almost driven 
 to despair. 
 
 " I think you are doing wrong ! " she said, pres 
 ently. " It is wrong to disturb a man like father 
 about any dog, however noble. I am sure I am right 
 in saying that we none of us know anything about 
 Scorpion's disappearance. However, if you like, and 
 rather than that father should be worried, I will send 
 for all the children, and ask them the question one by 
 one before you. I am absolutely sure that they won't 
 think Scorpion worth a lie."
 
 FIREFLY. 955 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FIREFLY. 
 
 HELEN experienced some little difficulty in getting 
 her scattered brothers and sisters together. She 
 could not get any of them to think seriously of 
 Scorpion's departure. They laughed and lingered 
 over their own pursuits, and told Helen to her face 
 that she made a great fuss about nothing ; in short, 
 the best part of an hour had gone by before the May- 
 brights and the two Dalrymples assembled in Mrs. 
 Cameron's presence in the morning room. 
 
 "It is just this, children," said Helen. "Aunt 
 Maria feels very low about Scorpion ; you see she 
 loved him." Groans here came audibly from the lips 
 of Bob and Bunny. " Yes ! " said Helen, looking 
 severely at her two little brothers, " Aunt Maria did 
 love Scorpion. She feels very lonely without him, 
 and she has taken an idea into her head that one or 
 other of you had something to say to his disappear 
 ance. Of course I know that hone of you could be so 
 cruel and heartless, but to satisfy Aunt Maria, I have 
 asked you all to come here just to tell her that you 
 did nothing to make Scorpion run away." 
 
 " Only we are very glad he did run away ! " said 
 Bob, " but as to touching him, why, I wouldn't with 
 a pair of tongs." 
 
 " I wish to say a word ! " said Mrs. Cameron. 
 She came forward, and stood looking very flushed 
 and angry before the assembled group. " I wish to 
 say that I am sure some of you in your malice de 
 prived me of my dog. I believe David Dalrymple
 
 ;.;56 POLLY. 
 
 i :> be innocent, but as to the rest of you, I may aa 
 well say that I do not believe you, whatever you 
 may tell me." 
 
 " Well after that ! " exclaimed all the children. 
 
 " I suppose, Helen, after that we may go away ? " 
 said Firefly, who was looking very pale. 
 
 " No, Miss ! " said Aunt Maria, " you must stay. 
 Your sister Helen does not wish me to do anything 
 to disturb your father, but I assure you, children, 
 there are limits even to my patience, and I intend to 
 visit him this morning and tell him the whole story, 
 unless before you leave the room you tell me the 
 truth." 
 
 Firefly's sallow little face grew whiter and whiter. 
 She glanced imploringly at David, who looked boldly 
 and unconcernedly back at her ; then, throwing 
 back his head, he marched up to Mrs. Cameron's 
 side. 
 
 " You believe that Jam innocent, don't you ? " he 
 said. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear boy. I have said so." 
 
 " In that case, perhaps you would not mind my 
 going out a little way on the moor and having a 
 good look round for the dog, he may have wandered 
 there, you know, and broken "his leg or something." 
 Mrs. Cameron shuddered. " In any case," continued 
 David, with a certain air of modest assurance, which 
 became him very much, " it seems a pity that I 
 should waste time here." 
 
 " Certainly ; go, my dear lad," answered Mrs. 
 Cameron. " Bring my little innocent suffering 
 treasure back with you, and I will give you half 
 a crown." 
 
 David instantly left the room, unheeding a short, 
 sharp cry which issued from Firefly's lips as he 
 passed her.
 
 J1REFLY. 257 
 
 Most of the other children were laughing ; it was 
 impossible for them to think of anything in connec 
 tion with Scorpion except as a joke. 
 
 " Listen, Aunt Maria," said Helen. " I am afraid 
 you must not treat my brothers and sisters as you 
 propose. Neither must you trouble father without 
 the doctor's permission. The fact is, Aunt Maria, 
 we are Maybrights, and every one who knows any 
 thing about us at all must know that we would scorn 
 to tell a lie. Our father and our dear, dear mother 
 your sister whom you loved, Aunt Maria, and for 
 whose sake you are interested in us taught us to 
 fear a lie more than anything, much more than 
 punishment, much more than discovery. Oh, yes, 
 \ve have heaps and heaps of faults ; we can tease, we 
 can be passionate, and idle, and selfish ; but being 
 .Maybrights, being the children of our own father and 
 mother, we can't lie. The fact is, we'd be afraid 
 to." 
 
 Helen's blue eyes were full of tears. 
 
 " Bravo ! Helen ! " said Polly, going up to her 
 sister and kissing her. " She says just the simple 
 truth, Aunt Maria," she continued, flashing round 
 in her bright way on the old lady. "We are a 
 naughty set you know that, don't you ? but we 
 can't tell lies; we draw the line there." 
 
 "Yes, we draw the line there," suddenly said 
 Firefly, in a high-pitched voice, which sounded as if 
 it was going to crack. 
 
 " I admire bravery," said Mrs. Cameron, after a 
 pause. " Ask your questions, Helen. For my dead 
 sister's sake I will accept the word of a May bright. 
 'Pon my word, you are extraordinary young people ; 
 but I admire girls who are not afraid to speak out, 
 and who uphold their parents' teaching. Ask the 
 children quickly, Helen, if they know anything about
 
 258 POLLY. 
 
 the dog, for after David's hint about his having 
 strayed on that awful moor, and perhaps having 
 broken one of his dear little legs, I feel more un 
 comfortable than ever about him. For goodness' 
 sake, Helen ! ask your question quickly, and let me 
 get out on the moor to look for my dog." 
 
 " Children," said Helen, coming forward at once, 
 " do you know anything about Scorpion's loss, any 
 thing ? Now, I am going to ask you each singly ; 
 as you answer you can leave the room. Polly, I 
 begin with you." 
 
 One by one the Maybrights and Flower answered 
 very clear and emphatic " No's " to Helen's question, 
 and one by one they retired to wait for their com 
 panions in the passage outside. 
 
 At last Helen put the question to Firefly. Two 
 big, green-tinted hazel eyes were raised to her face. 
 
 " Yes, Helen, I do know," replied Firefly. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron uttered a shriek, and almost fell 
 upon the little girl, but Helen very gently held her 
 back." 
 
 " One minute," she said. " Firefly, what do you 
 know?" 
 
 " I'm not going to tell you, Helen." The child's 
 lips quivered, but her eyes looked up bravely. 
 
 " Why so ? Please, Aunt Maria, let me speak to 
 her. Why won't you tell j.what you know, dear 
 Fly ? " 
 
 " Because I promised. There, I won't say a word 
 more about it. I do know, and I won't tell ; no I 
 won't ever, ever tell. You can punish me, of course, 
 Aunt Maria." 
 
 So I will, Miss. Take that slap for your imper 
 tinence. Oh ! if you were my child, should not I 
 give you a whipping ! You know what has hap 
 pened to my poor fear little dog, and you refuse to
 
 FIREFLY. 259 
 
 tell. But you shall tell you wicked cruel little 
 thing you shall, you must ! " 
 
 " Shall I take Firefly away and question her ? " 
 asked Helen. " Please, Aunt Maria, don't be too 
 stern with her. She is a timid little thing ; she is 
 not accustomed to people blaming her. She has 
 some reason for this, but she will explain every 
 thing to her sister Nell, won't you, darling ? " 
 
 The child's lips were trembling, and her eyes 
 filling with tears. 
 
 " There's no use in my going away with you, 
 Helen," she replied, steadily. " I am willing Aunt 
 Maria should punish me, but I can't tell because 
 I'm a Maybright. It would be telling a lie to say 
 what I know. I don't mind you punishing me 
 rather badly, Aunt Maria." 
 
 "Oh, you don't, don't you?" said Aunt- Maria. 
 " Listen ; was not that the sound of wheels ? " 
 
 " The doctor to see father," explained Helen. 
 " I ought to go." 
 
 " Excuse me, my dear, I particularly wish to see 
 your father's medical adviser this morning. I will 
 not detain him long, but I have a question I wish to 
 put to him. You stay with your little sister, Helen. 
 I shall be back soon." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron trotted out of the room. In about 
 ten minutes, with an exultant look on her face, she 
 returned. Firefly was now clasped tightly in 
 Helen's arms while she sobbed her heart out on her 
 breast. 
 
 " Well, Helen, has this most impertinent, naughty 
 child confessed ? " 
 
 " She has not," said Helen. " I don't understand 
 her ; she seems in sore trouble. Dear little Fly ! " 
 
 " ' Dear little Fly,' indeed ! Naughty, wicked 
 little Fly, you mean. However, my dear, I have
 
 260 POLLY. 
 
 come to tell you that I have just had an interview 
 with the excellent doctor who attends your father. 
 He has gone up to see him now. He says he does 
 not want to see you at all to-day, Helen. Well, I 
 spoke to Dr. Strong, and he was astonished abso 
 lutely astonished, when he heard that I had not yet 
 been permitted to see my brother-in-law. I told 
 him quite frankly that you girls were jealous of my 
 influence, and used his (Dr. Strong's) name to keep 
 me out of my poor brother's room. ' But my dear 
 madam,' he said, ' the young ladies labor under a 
 mistake a vast, a monstrous mistake. Nothing 
 could do my poor patient more good than to see a 
 sensible, practical lady like yourself ! ' ' Then I 
 may see him this afternoon ? ' I asked. * Undoubt 
 edly, Mrs. Cameron,' he replied ; * it will be some 
 thing for my patient to look forward to.' I hava 
 arranged then, my dear Helen, to pay a visit to your 
 father at three o'clock to-day." 
 
 Helen could not repress a sigh. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron raised her eyebrows with a certain 
 suggestive and aggravating gesture. 
 
 " Ah, my dear," she said, " you must try to keep 
 under that jealous temperament. Jealousy fostered 
 in the heart overshadows and overclouds all life. Be 
 warned in time." 
 
 " About this child," said Helen, drawing Firefly 
 forward, " what is to be done about her ? You will 
 be lenient, won't you, Aunt Maria, for she is very 
 young?" 
 
 " By the way," said Mrs. Cameron, with the manner 
 of one who had not heard a word of Helen's last 
 speech, " is this naughty little girl attached to her 
 father?" 
 
 Firefly raised her tear-dimmed face. 
 
 M He is my darling " she began.
 
 FIREFLY, 261 
 
 " Ah, yes, my dear ; I detest exaggerated expres 
 sions. If you love him, you can now prove it. You 
 would not, for instance, wish to give him anxiety, or 
 to injure him ? " 
 
 *' Oh, no, oh, no ! I would rather die." 
 
 " Again that sentimental exaggeration ; but you 
 shall prove your words. If you have not confessed 
 to me before three o'clock to-day all you know about 
 the loss of my treasured dog Scorpion, I shall take 
 you into your father's sick room, and in his presence 
 dare you to keep your wicked secret to yourself any 
 longer." 
 
 " Oh, you don't mean that," said Firefly. " You 
 can't be so awfully cruel. Nell, Nell, do say that 
 Aunt Maria doesn't mean that." 
 
 The child was trembling violently ; her little face 
 was white as death, her appealing eyes would have 
 softened most hearts. 
 
 " Oh, Nell, what shall I do if I make father worse 
 again ? For I can't tell what I know ; it would be a 
 lie to tell it, and you said yourself, Nell, that no 
 Maybright told lies." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron smiled grimly. 
 
 " I have said it," she remarked : " it all rests with 
 yourself, Firefly. I shall be ready either to hear 
 your confession or to take you to your father at 
 three o'clock to-day." 
 
 With these words the good lady walked out of the 
 room.
 
 262 POLLY, 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 TO THE BESCTJE. 
 
 AN hour later a wildly anxious and disconsolate 
 little figure might have been seen knocking at 
 Polly's door. No answer from within. A moment 
 of suspense on the part of the little figure, followed 
 by another and louder knock ; then the small, ner 
 vous fingers turned the handle of the door, and Fire 
 fly pushed her head in and peered anxiously round. 
 
 Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! No Polly was in the room. 
 And why did the great eight-day clock in the hall 
 strike twelve ? Why, on this morning of all morn 
 ings, should time go on wings ? Firefly had great 
 faith in Polly's powers of helping her. But the mo 
 ments were too precious to waste them hi trying to 
 find her. She had another search to make, and she 
 must set out at once. No, not quite at once. She 
 clasped her hands to her beating little heart as an 
 idea came to her on which she might act. A deli 
 cious and yet most sorrowful idea, which would fill 
 her with the keenest pain, and yet give her the very 
 sweetest consolation. She would go and get a kiss 
 from her father before she set out on the search, 
 which might be a failure. Very swiftly she turned, 
 flew down the long gallery which led to Dr. May- 
 bright's room, and went in. 
 
 Dr. Strong had paid his visit and gone away. 
 Firefly's heart gave a bound of delight, for her father 
 was alone. He was lying supported high in bed 
 with pillows. His almost sightless eyes were not 
 bandaged, they were simply closed ; his hands, with
 
 TO THE RESCUE, 
 
 their long, sensitive, purposeful fingers lay on the 
 white sheets in a restful attitude. Already the 
 acute hearing of the blind had come to him, and as 
 Firefly glided up to the bedside, he turned his head 
 quickly. Her two small hands went with a kind of 
 bound into one of his. His fingers closed over 
 them. 
 
 " This is my Fly," said the Doctor ; " a very ex 
 cited and feverish Fly, too. How these small fin 
 gers flutter 1 What is it, my darling ? " 
 
 " A kiss, father," said Fly, " a great hug of a kiss ! 
 please, please. I want it so awfully badly." 
 
 " Climb up on the bed, and put your arms round 
 me. Is that all right ? My dear little one, you are 
 not well." 
 
 " I'm quite well, now, while I'm loving you. Oh ! 
 aren't you just the darlingest of all darling fathers ? 
 There, another kiss ; and another ! Now I'm 
 better." 
 
 She glided off the bed, pressed two long, last fer 
 vent embraces on the Doctor's white hand, and 
 rushed out of the room. 
 
 "I'm lots stronger now," she said to herself. 
 " Whatever happens, I'll have those kisses to hold 
 on to and remember ; but nothing shall happen, for 
 I'm going to find David ; he is sure to put things 
 right for me." 
 
 Meanwhile, Polly's absence from her room was 
 accounted for, also the fact of Fly finding her father 
 alone. It was seldom that this dearly loved and 
 favorite father, physician, and friend, was left to in 
 dulge hi solitude. It was the privilege of all priv 
 ileges to sit by him, read to him, and listen to his 
 talk ; and a girl, generally two girls, occupied the 
 coveted chairs by his bedside. On this morning, 
 however, poor Helen was detained, first by Aunt
 
 264: POLLY, 
 
 Maria, and then by necessary housekeeping cares ; 
 and Polly and Flower were deeply engrossed over a 
 matter of considerable importance. 
 
 When Polly had replied in the negative to Helen's 
 question, she lingered for a moment in the passage 
 outside the morning-room, then started off to find 
 Nurse and little Pearl. Flower, however, waited 
 with a feeling of curiosity, or perhaps something 
 more, to hear what the others would say. She was 
 witness, therefore, through the open door, of Fire 
 fly's curious mixture of avowal and denial, and when 
 Mrs. Cameron went away to consult the doctor who 
 attended Dr. May bright, she coolly waited in an ad 
 joining room, and when the good woman returned, 
 once more placed herself within earshot. No May- 
 bright would dream of evesdropping, but Flower's 
 upbringing had been decidedly lax with regard to 
 this and other matters. 
 
 In full possession, therefore, of the facts of the 
 catastrophe which was to overpower poor little Fly 
 and injure Dr. May bright, she rushed off to find 
 Polly. Polly was feeling intensely happy, playing 
 with and fondling her sweet little baby sister, when 
 Flower, pale and excited, rushed into the room. 
 Nurse, who had not yet forgiven Flower, turned her 
 back upon the young lady, and hummed audibly. 
 Flower, however, was far too much absorbed to heed 
 her. 
 
 " Listen, Polly ! you have got to come with me 
 at once. Give baby back to Nurse. You must 
 come with me directly." 
 
 " If it is anything more about Scorpion, I refuse 
 to stir," answered Polly. " If there is a creature in 
 this world whom I absolutely loathe, it's that de 
 testable little animal ! " 
 
 "You don't hate him more than I do," sai4
 
 TO THE RESCUE, 265 
 
 Flower. " My news is about him. Still, you must 
 come, for it also means Firefly and your father. 
 They'll both get into awful trouble I know they 
 will if we don't save them." 
 
 "What?" said Polly; "what? Take baby, 
 please, Nurse. Now, what is it, Flower ? " pulling 
 her outside the nursery door. " What has that 
 horrid Scorpion to do with Fly and father ? " 
 
 "Only this: Fly has confessed that she knows 
 what has become of him, but she's a dear little brick 
 and won't tell. She says she's a Maybright, and 
 they don't tell lies. Three cheers for the May- 
 brights, if they are all like Fly, say I ! Well, the 
 little love won't tell, and Mrs. Cameron is fit to 
 dance, and what does she do but get leave from Dr. 
 Strong to see your father, and she's going to drag 
 Fly before him at three o'clock to-day, and make a 
 fine story of what happened. She holds it over Fly 
 that your father will be made very ill again. Very 
 likely he will, if ice don't prevent it." 
 
 " It's horrible ! " said Polly ; " but how can we 
 prevent it, Flower ? " 
 
 "Oh, easily enough. You must guard your 
 father's room. Let no one in under any pretence 
 whatever until I have found David." 
 
 " What do you mean by finding David ? What 
 can David have to say to it ? " 
 
 " Oh ! has he not ? Poor Fly ! David has got 
 her into his toils ? David is at the bottom of all 
 this, I am convinced. I guessed it the moment I 
 saw him go up so boldly to Mrs. Cameron and pre 
 tend to be sorry about the dog. He sorry about 
 Scorpion! He hates him more than any of us." 
 
 "But then I don't understand; if that is so, 
 David told a deliberate lie, Flower." 
 
 Flower colored.
 
 266 POLLY. 
 
 "We have hot been brought up like the 
 brights," she said. " Oh, yes, we could tell a lie ; 
 we were not brought up to be particular about 
 good things, or to avoid bad things. We were 
 brought up well, just anyhow." 
 
 Polly stole up to Flower and kissed her. 
 
 " I am glad you have come to learn of my father," 
 she said. " Now do tell me what we are to do for 
 poor, poor Fly. Do you think David is guilty, and 
 that he has got Fly to promise not to tell ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is what I think. David must be found, 
 and got to confess, and so release Fly of her promise 
 before three o'clock. David is a dreadful boy to find 
 when he takes it into his head to hide on purpose; 
 but I must look for him, and in the meantime will 
 you guard your father, Polly ? " 
 
 " As a dragon," said Polly. " You may trust me 
 about that at least. I will go to his room at once to 
 make all things safe, for there is really no trusting 
 Aunt Maria when she has a scheme of vengeance 
 with regard to that dog in her head. Good-bye, 
 Flower ; I'm off to father." 
 
 Polly turned away, and Flower ran quickly down 
 stairs. She knew she had not a moment to lose, for 
 David, as she expressed it, was a very difficult boy 
 to find when he took it into his head to hide him 
 self. 
 
 Flower had not been on the moor since that dread 
 ful day when she had taken the baby away. So 
 much had happened since then, so many dreadful 
 things had come to pass, that she shuddered at the 
 bare thought of the great and desolate moorland. 
 Nevertheless she guessed that David would hide 
 there, and without a moment's hesitation turned her 
 steps in the direction of Peg-Top Moor. She had 
 walked for nearly half an hour, and had reached
 
 ft) T#E RESCtffi, 26? 
 
 rather a broad extent of table land, when she saw 
 their little figures plainly visible against the sky 
 two children, nearly a quarter of a mile away, eagerly 
 talking together. There was not the least doubt as 
 to their identity ; the children a boy and a girl 
 were David and Fly. Fly was holding David's arm, 
 and gesticulating and talking eagerly ; David's head 
 was turned away. Flower quickened her steps al 
 most into a run. If only she could reach the two be 
 fore they parted ; above all things, if she could reach 
 them before David saw her ! 
 
 Alas and alas ! she was too late for this. David 
 suddenly pushed his little companion a couple of feet 
 away from him, and to all appearance vanished into 
 the solid ground. 
 
 Fly, crying bitterly, began to run to meet Flower. 
 Flower held out her arms as the little girl ap 
 proached. 
 
 " What is it, Firefly ? Tell me, has David con 
 fessed?" 
 
 " Oh, what do you know about it, Flower ? Oh, 
 what am I to do, what am I to do ? " 
 
 " You are to go quietly home," said Flower, speak 
 ing in a voice of authority. " You are to go quietly 
 home, and leave this matter in my hands. I know all 
 about it, and just what David has done. He has 
 bound you by a sort of oath, you poor little thing 
 you dear, brave little thing ! Never mind, Fly ; you 
 leave David to me. I expect I shall find him now 
 that is, if you don't keep me too long talking. Go 
 home, and leave matters to me." 
 
 " But Flower Flower, you do comfort me a little ; 
 but Flower, it will soon be three o'clock, and then 
 and then oh, dear father ! Oh, it is so dreadful ! " 
 
 " No, you silly mite ; it is not dreadful at all. 
 Polly is in charge of the Doctor. She is sitting with
 
 POLLY. 
 
 him now, and the door is locked, and the key is in 
 Polly's pocket, and she has promised me not to open 
 that door to any one no, Fly, not to a hundred of 
 your Aunt Marias until I bring David home." 
 
 Fly's face underwent a transformation. Her big 
 eyes looked full up into Flower's. A smile flitted 
 across her quivering lips. With a sudden, passionate 
 gesture, she stooped down and kissed Flower's 
 fingers, then ran obediently back hi the direction of 
 Sleepy Hollow. 
 
 ** She is a perfect little darling ! " said Flower to 
 herself. " If Master David does not rue it for 
 making her suffer, my name is not Flower 
 Dalrymple." 
 
 She ran on swiftly. She was always very quick 
 and light in her movements. Soon she came to the 
 place where David had to all appearance disappeared. 
 She did not stay there long. She ran on to where 
 the bracken grew thick and long, then suddenly lay 
 flat down on the ground, and pressed her ear close to 
 Mother Earth. What she heard did not satisfy her. 
 She rose again, repeating the same process several 
 times. Suddenly her eyes brightened ; she raised her 
 head, and listened attentively, then she whistled a 
 long peculiar note. There was no answer, but 
 Flower's face retained its watchful, intent expression. 
 She laid her head down once more close to the 
 ground, and began to speak, " David, David, I know 
 you are there ; there is no use in your hiding. Come 
 here, I want you, I, Flower. I will give you two 
 minutes, David ; if you don't come then I'll keep the 
 threat I made when you made me angry with you 
 at Ballarat." 
 
 A perfect silence followed Flower's words. She 
 still lay flat on the ground. One of the minutes 
 flew by.
 
 OH, FIE ! POLLY. 269 
 
 I'll keep my word, David ! " she said again. 
 You know me ; you know what my threat means. 
 Three-quarters of a minute more, half a minute, then 
 I'll go home, and I'll do what I said I would do when 
 you made me angry at Ballarat." 
 
 Again there was silence, but this time quickly 
 broken; a boy's black head appeared above the 
 bracken, a little brown hand was held out, and David, 
 without troubling himself to move a hair's breadth, 
 looked full into his sister's face. 
 
 " I don't want to lose you, Flower ! " he said. 
 " You are the only person in all the world I care 
 twopence about. Now what's the row ? " 
 
 " You're a cowardly boy, David, and I'm ashamed 
 of you ; come with me this minute." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 OH, PIE ! POLLY. 
 
 WHILE these events were taking place, and the 
 children in their various ways were preparing check 
 mate for Aunt Maria Cameron, that good lady was 
 having a by no means unexciting experience of her 
 own. After her housekeeping cares were over, after 
 she had interviewed Mrs. Power, and made Alice 
 thoroughly uncomfortable ; after, in short, meaning 
 it all the while for the best, she had succeeded in 
 jarring the whole household machinery to the utmost, 
 it was her custom morning after morning to retire 
 with Scorpion into the seldom used drawing-room, 
 and there, seated comfortably in an old-fashioned 
 arm-chair, with her feet well supported on a large 
 cushion, and the dog on her lap, to devote herself 
 to worsted work. Not crewel work, not church
 
 270 POLLY. 
 
 embroidery, not anything which would admit of the 
 use of modern art colors, but genuine, old-fashioned 
 worsted work. Mrs. Cameron delighted in the 
 flaring scarlets, pinks, greens, blues, and mauves of 
 thirty years ago. She admired with all her soul 
 the hard, staring flowers which these colors 
 produced. They looked, she said, substantial and 
 durable. They looked like artificial flowers ; nobody 
 could mistake them for the real article, which was 
 occasionally known to be the case with that flimsy, 
 in her opinion, ugly, art embroidery. 
 
 No, no, Mrs. Cameron would not be smitten by the 
 art craze. " Let nature be nature ! " she would say, 
 " and worsted work be worsted work, and don't let 
 us try to clash the poor things into one, as that 
 wretched art-school is always endeavoring to do." 
 So each morning Mrs. Cameron plied her worsted 
 needle, and Scorpion slumbered peacefully on her 
 knee. She liked to sit with her back to the light, so 
 that it should fall comfortably on her work, and her 
 own eyes be protected from an extensive and very 
 beautiful view of the south moor. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron hated the moor ; it gave her, as 
 she expressed it, " the creeps," and on all occasions 
 she avoided looking at it. On this morning, as 
 usual, she took out her large roll of worsted work, 
 and prepared to ground a huge, impossible arum lily. 
 Her thoughts, however, were not, as usual, with her 
 work. Her cheeks were flushed, and her whole face 
 expressed annoyance and anxiety. 
 
 " How I miss even his dear little playful bite ! " 
 she said aloud, a big tear falling on her empty lap. 
 " Ah, my Scorpion ! why did I love you, but to lose 
 you ? How true are the poet's words, 
 
 ' I never loved a clear gazelle.'
 
 OH, FIE ! POLLY. 271 
 
 Well, I must say it, I seldom came across more 
 wicked, heartless children than the Maybrights and 
 Daisy Rymple. David is really the only one of the 
 bunch worth rearing. Ah, my poor sister ! your 
 removal has doubtless spared you many sorrows, for 
 what could you expect of the future of such a family 
 as yours? Now, what is that ? This moor is enough 
 to keep anybody's nerves in a state of tension. 
 What is that awful sound approaching the house ? " 
 
 " The noise in question was the unmistakable one 
 of a woman's loud sobbing. It came nearer and 
 nearer, gaining in fulness and volume as it ap 
 proached the house. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron was always intensely curious. She 
 threw open the drawing-room window ; and as the 
 sufferer approached, effectually stopped her progress 
 with her own stout person. 
 
 " Now, my dear, good creature, what is this most 
 unpleasant sound ? Don't you know that it is fright 
 fully bad- mannered to cry in that loud, unrestrained 
 fashion. Pray restrain yourself. You are quite 
 childish. You cannot know what real affliction 
 
 means. Now, if you had lost a a . If, my poor 
 
 woman, you had lost a dear little dog ! " 
 
 " Is it a dog ? " gasped Mrs. Ricketts, for it was 
 she. " Is it a dog ? Oh, my word ! Much you know 
 about 'fictions and such- like ! Let me go to the 
 house, ma'am. It isn't to you as I has come to tell 
 my tale." 
 
 " Then let me inform you that you are going to 
 tell it to no one else. Here I stand, and here I re 
 main until you choose to explain to me the reason 
 of your loud bursts of uncontrollable grief. During 
 the illness of its master I am the mistress here, and 
 either you speak to me or you go home." 
 
 Mrs. Ricketts had by this time so far restrained
 
 272 POLLY. 
 
 her sobs as to be able to take a long and very acute 
 glance at the lady in question. Doubtless she was 
 face to face with the formidable Mrs. Cameron, that 
 terrible personage who had got her Maggie dismissed, 
 and who had locked up poor darling Miss Polly for 
 days in her bedroom. 
 
 There was no one, perhaps, in the world whom 
 Mrs. Ricketts more cordially disliked than this good 
 lady, but all the same, it was now her policy to pro 
 pitiate her. She smoothed, therefore, her brow, dried 
 her eyes, and, with a profound courtesy, began her 
 tale. 
 
 " Ef you please, ma'am, it's this way ; it's my 
 character that's at stake. I always was, and always 
 will be, honest of the honest. 'Ard I works, ma'am, 
 and the bread of poverty I eats, but honest I am, 
 and honest I brings up those fatherless lambs my 
 children." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron waved one of her fat hands impres 
 sively. 
 
 " Pardon me, my good woman. I am really not 
 interested in your family. Pray come to the point, 
 and then go home." 
 
 " To the p'int, ma'am ? Oh, yes, I'll come to the 
 p'int. This is the p'int, ef you please, ma'am," and 
 she suddenly thrust, almost into Mrs. Cameron's 
 dazzled face, the splendid gleam and glitter of a large 
 unset diamond. " This is the p'int, ma'am ; this is 
 what's to take my character away, and the bread 
 out of the mouths of my innocent children." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron never considered herself a worldly 
 woman. She was undoubtedly a very Christian- 
 minded, charitable, good woman, but all the same, 
 she loved fine houses and big dinners and rich ap 
 parel, and above all things she adored jewelry. 
 Flowers, that is, natural flowers had never yet
 
 OH, FIE ! POLLY. 273 
 
 drawn a smile out of her. She had never pined for 
 them or valued them, but jewels, ah! they were 
 worth possessing. She quite gasped now, as she 
 realized the value of the gem which Mrs. Ricketts so 
 unceremoniously thrust under her nose. 
 
 " A diamond ! Good gracious ! How did you 
 come by it ? A most valuable diamond of extraor 
 dinary size. Give it to me this moment, my good 
 dear creature ! and come into the drawing-room. 
 You can step in by this open window. We won't 
 be disturbed in here. I suppose you were weeping 
 in that loud and violent manner at the thought of 
 the grief of the person who had lost this treasure ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am, I were a sobbing at the grief of her 
 what ''ad it. Oh, my word ! And the young lady 
 said for sure as I'd get nine-and-fourpence halfpenny 
 for it. No, ma'am, I won't go into the 'ouse, thank 
 you. Oh dear! oh dear! the young lady did set 
 store by it, and said for certain I'd get my nine-and- 
 fourpence halfpenny back, but when I took the stone 
 to the shop to-day, and asked the baker to give me 
 some bread and let this go partly to pay the account, 
 he stared at me and said as I wasn't honest, and 
 he thrust it back in my hand. Oh, dearie me ! oh, 
 dearie me ! the foreign young lady shouldn't have 
 done it!" 
 
 " I am very sure that you're honest, my good 
 creature ! Now, do tell me about this stone. Ho\V 
 did you come by it ? " 
 
 " It was the young lady, ma'am ; the young lady 
 from Australia." 
 
 " Daisy Rymple, do you mean ? " 
 
 "Miss Flower, she called herself, ma'am. She 
 come to me in sore plight late one evening, when 
 we was all in bed, and 'Mrs. Ricketts,' said she, 
 dear lamb, ' will you help me to go away to Mrs.
 
 274: POLLY. 
 
 Cameron, to Bath ? I want the money to go third 
 class to Bath. Can you let me have nine shillings 
 and fourpence halfpenny, Mrs. Ricketts? and I'll 
 give you this for the money ! ' and she flashed that 
 bit of a glittering stone right up into my eyes. My 
 word, I thought as I was blinded by it. ' You'll get 
 most like two pounds for it, Mrs. Ricketts', she said, 
 for my father told me it was worth a sight of 
 money.' That's how I come by it, ma'am, and that's 
 the way I was treated about it to-day." 
 
 Mrs. Cameron slowly drew out her purse. 
 
 " I will give you two sovereigns for the stone ! " 
 she said. " There, take them and go home, and say 
 nothing about the money. It will be the worse for 
 you if you do ; now go quickly home." 
 
 Mrs. Ricketts' broad face was one glow of delight. 
 She dropped another courtesy, and tried to articulate 
 some words of thanks, but Mrs. Cameron had already 
 disappeared into the drawing-room, where she now 
 sat, holding the diamond hi the palm of her open 
 hand. 
 
 She knew enough about precious stones to guess 
 at something of its probable value. The idea of in 
 this way possessing herself of Flower's diamond never 
 for a moment entered her head, but she was worldly- 
 minded enough to wish that it could be her own, 
 and she could not help owning to a feeling of satis 
 faction, even to a sense of compensation for the loss 
 of Scorpion, while she held the beautiful glittering 
 thing in her open palm. 
 
 Even Flower rose in her estimation when she 
 found that she had possessed a gem so brilliant. A 
 girl who could have such a treasure and so lightly 
 part with it was undoubtedly a simpleton but she 
 was a simpleton who ought to be guarded and prized 
 the sort of young innocent who should be sur-
 
 OH, FIE ! POLLY. 275 
 
 rounded by protecting friends. Mrs. Cameron felt 
 her interest in Flower growing and growing. Sup 
 pose she offered to release the Doctor of this weari 
 some burden. Suppose she undertook the care of 
 Flower and her diamond herself. 
 
 No sooner did this thought occur to Mrs. Cameron, 
 than she resolved to act upon it. Of course the 
 Doctor would be delighted to part with Flower. 
 She would see him on the subject at once. 
 
 She went slowly upstairs and knocked with a 
 calm, steady hand at the door of the dressing-room 
 which opened into Dr. Maybright's apartment. No 
 sound or reply of any kind came from within. She 
 listened for a moment, then knocked again, then 
 tried to turn the handle of the door. It resisted 
 her pressure, being locked from within. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron raised her voice. She was not a 
 person who liked to be opposed, and that locked door, 
 joined to that most exasperating silence, became more 
 than trying. Surely the Doctor was not deaf as well 
 as blind. Surely he must hear her loud demands, 
 even though a dressing-room stood between his 
 room and the suppliant without. 
 
 And surely the Doctor would have heard, for 
 a more polite man never lived, were it not for 
 that all mischievous and irrepressible Polly. But 
 she, being left in charge, had set her sharp brains 
 to work, and had devised a plan to outwit Mrs. 
 Cameron. The dressing-room in question con 
 tained a double-baize door. This door was seldom 
 or never used, but it came in very conveniently now, 
 for the furtherance of Polly's plan. When it was 
 shut, and thick curtains also drawn across, and when, 
 in addition, the door leading into Dr. Maybright's 
 room was securely fastened and curtained off, Polly 
 felt sure that she and her father might pass their
 
 276 POLLY. 
 
 morning in delicious quietude. Not hearing Mrs 
 Cameron, she argued with herself that no one could 
 possibly blame her for not letting her in. Therefore, 
 in high good humor, this young lady sat down to 
 read, work, and chatter gaily. As the Doctor listened, 
 he said to himself that surely there never was in the 
 world a sweeter or more agreeable companion than 
 his Polly. 
 
 With all her precautions, however, as the hours 
 flew by, sundry muffled and distant sounds did pene 
 trate to the sick chamber. 
 
 " What a peculiar noise ! " remarked the Doctor. 
 
 " Can it be mice ? " queried Polly's most innocent 
 voice. 
 
 More time passed. 
 
 Suddenly the sharp and unmistakable sound of 
 gravel being flung against the window forced the 
 young lady to go to ascertain what was the matter. 
 
 On looking out, she saw what caused her to utter 
 an amazed exclamation. 
 
 Mrs. Cameron, very red in the face, and holding 
 the lost Scorpion in one encircling arm, while the 
 other was thrown firmly round a most sulky-looking 
 David ; Firefly, pale and with traces of tears on her 
 face ; Flower looking excited and eager all stood 
 under the window. This group were loud in demand 
 ing instant admission to the Doctor's room. 
 
 " What is it, what is it ? " questioned the patient 
 from the bed. 
 
 "Oh, you are not strong enough to see them, 
 father." 
 
 " To see whom ? " 
 
 " Aunt Maria Scorpion the children." 
 
 " Yes, I am quite strong enough. Let them come 
 up at once." 
 
 But father ! "
 
 OS, FIE ! POT^Y. 
 
 "But Polly! You don't suppose seriously that 
 your Aunt Maria can disturb my equanimity ? " 
 
 " Oh ! She will worry you with so many tales." 
 
 " About my very naughty family ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you bad much better not see her." 
 
 "Because she wants me to get a chaperon for 
 you?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes oh I don't see her." 
 
 " My dear, you can trust me ; you happen to 
 be my childien, not hers. I would rather have the 
 matter out. I knew there was something wrong 
 from the way little Fly kissed my hand this morn 
 ing. Show the deputation outside the window into 
 the audience chamber at once, Polly." 
 
 So admonished, the curtains had to be drawn 
 back, the baize door. reopened, and Polly a most 
 unwilling hostess had to receive her guests. But 
 no words can describe the babel of sounds which 
 there and then filled the Doctor's room ; no words 
 can tell how patiently the blind man listened. 
 
 Aunt Maria had a good tale to tell, and it lost 
 nothing in the telling. The story of Scorpion's dis 
 appearance ; of the wickedness of David and Fly ; 
 of the recovering of the little animal from the man 
 who had bought it through Flower's instrumentality ; 
 all this she told, following up with the full and partic 
 ular history of the sale of a valuable diamond. At 
 last at long last the good lady stopped for want of 
 breath. 
 
 There was a delicious pause, then the Doctor said, 
 quietly 
 
 " In short, Maria, you have never come across such 
 absolutely wicked children as the Maybrights and 
 Dalrymples?" 
 
 " No, Andrew never ! never ! " 
 
 "It is lucky they are not your children ?"
 
 POLL?. 
 
 fc Thank Heaven f 
 
 " Would it not be well to leave them to me ? 1 
 am accustomed to them." 
 
 " Yes ; I wash my hands of you all ; or no not 
 quite of you all I heap coals of fire on your head, 
 Andrew; I offer to relieve you of the charge of 
 Daisy Rymple." 
 
 " Of Flower ? but she is one of the worst of us." 
 
 Here Flower ran over, crouched down by the 
 Doctor, and put one of her hands into his. 
 
 " But I will be good with you," she said with a 
 half-sob. 
 
 " Hear her," said the Doctor. " She says she will 
 be good with me. Perhaps, after all, Maria, I can 
 manage my own children better than any one else 
 can." 
 
 " Daisy is not your child you had better give her 
 to me." 
 
 " I can't part with Flower ; she is an excellent 
 reader. I am a blind man, but she scarcely allows 
 me to miss my eyes." 
 
 Flower gave a low, ecstatic sob. 
 
 " And you will allow her to part with valuable 
 gems like this ? " 
 
 "Thanks to you, Maria, she has recovered her 
 diamond." 
 
 " Andrew, I never met such an obstinate, such a 
 misguided man ! Are you really going to bring up 
 these unfortunate children without a chaperon ? " 
 
 "I think you must allow us to be good and 
 naughty in our own way." 
 
 " Father is looking very tired, Aunt Maria," here 
 whispered Polly. 
 
 "My dear, jTam never going to fatigue him more. 
 Andrew, I wash my hands of your affairs. Daisy, 
 take your diamond. At least, my little precious
 
 ONE YEAR AFTER. 279 
 
 dog, I have recovered you. We return to Bath by 
 the next train." 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ONE YEAR AFTEB. 
 
 " HELEN, here's a letter." 
 
 Yes. Who is it for ? " 
 
 I think it's for us all. See : * the Misses May- 
 bright and Miss Dalrymple.' " 
 
 M Well, where's Flower ? We can't open it till 
 Flower comes down. It must be yes, it must be 
 about father ! You know it was yesterday his eyes 
 were to be operated on." 
 
 " As if I didn't know it, Nell ! I never closed my 
 eyes last night. I felt nearly as bad as that awful 
 day a year ago now. I wish I might tear open this 
 envelope. Where is Flower? Need we wait for 
 her?" 
 
 " It would be unkind not to wait ! No one feels 
 about father as Flower does." 
 
 " David, please call her this instant ! " 
 
 David flew out of the room, and Polly began to 
 finger the precious letter. 
 
 " It's thick," she said ; " But I don't think there's 
 much writing inside. Yes," she continued, " Flower 
 is certainly very sensitive about father. She's a 
 dear girl. All the same, I'm sometimes jealous of 
 her" 
 
 Oh, dear Polly ! why ? " 
 
 " Father thinks so much of her. Yes, I know it's 
 wrong, but I do feel a little sore now and then. 
 Not often though, and never when I look into 
 Flower's lovely eyes."
 
 2SO POLLY. 
 
 " She is very sweet with father," said Helen. " It 
 seems to me that during this past year she has 
 given up her very life to him. And did you ever 
 hear any one read better ? " 
 
 " No, that's one of the reasons why I'm devoured 
 with jealousy. Don't talk to me about it, it's an 
 enemy I haven't yet learnt to overcome. Ah ! here 
 she comes." 
 
 " And Fly, and the twins ! " echoed Helen. 
 u Here's a letter from father, Flower. At least, we 
 think so. It's directed to us and to you." 
 
 A tall, very fair girl, with soft, shining eyes, and a 
 wonderful mane of yellow hair came up and put her 
 arm round Polly's neck. She did not smile, her face 
 was grave, her voice shook a little. 
 
 "Open the letter, Helen," she exclaimed im 
 patiently. 
 
 " Don't tremble so, Flower," said Polly. 
 
 But she herself only remained quiet by a great 
 effort, as Helen unfastened the thick envelope, 
 opened the sheet of paper, and held it up for many 
 eager pairs of eyes to read. 
 
 " My Children, I see again, thank God. 
 
 " Your Father and loving Friend." 
 
 " There ! " said Polly. " Oh, I can't talk about it. 
 Flower, you are silly to cry. Will no one dance a 
 hornpipe with me? I'll choke if I don't laugh. 
 You're the one to dance, Fly. Why, you are crying, 
 too. Ridiculous ! Where's the letter ? Let's kiss 
 it all round. That'll make us better. His own 
 blessed writing ! Isn't he a darling ? Was there 
 ever such a father ? " 
 
 " Or such a friend ? " exclaimed Flower. " I said 
 long ago, and I say again now, that he's the best man
 
 ONE YEAR AFTER. 281 
 
 in the world, and I do really think that some day 
 he'll tur.i me into a good girl." 
 
 "Why, you're the nicest girl I know now," said 
 Polly. 
 
 And then they kissed each other. 
 
 THE ENB.
 
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