ential
interviews, as heretofore, as to what she should wear and what I should
wear, and whether it would do to wear it again. And Polly went in one
coach, and I in another. No crowding into the hired hack, with all the
delightful care about tumbling dresses, and getting there in good order;
and no coming home together to our little cozy cottage, in a pleasant,
excited state of "flutteration," and sitting down to talk it all over,
and "Was n't it nice?" and "Did I look as well as anybody?" and "Of
course you did to me," and all that nonsense. We lived in a grand way
now, and had our separate establishments and separate plans, and I used
to think that a real separation couldn't make matters much different.
Not that Polly meant to be any different, or was, at heart; but, you
know, she was so much absorbed in her new life of splendor, and perhaps
I was a little old-fashioned.

I don't wonder at it now, as I look back. There was an army of
dressmakers to see, and a world of shopping to do, and a houseful of
servants to manage, and all the afternoon for calls, and her dear, dear
friend, with the artless manners and merry heart of a girl, and the
dignity and grace of a noble woman, the dear friend who lived in the
house of the Seven Gables, to consult about all manner of important
things. I could not, upon my honor, see that there was any place for me,
and I went my own way, not that there was much comfort in it.

And then I would rather have had charge of a hospital ward than take
care of that uncle. Such coddling as he needed, such humoring of whims.
And I am bound to say that Polly could n't have been more dutiful to him
if he had been a Hindoo idol. She read to him and talked to him, and
sat by him with her embroidery, and was patient with his crossness, and
wearied herself, that I could see, with her devoted ministrations.

I fancied sometimes she was tired of it, and longed for the old homely
simplicity. I was. Nepotism had no charms for me. There was nothing that
I could get Polly that she had not. I could surprise her with no little
delicacies or trifles, delightedly bought with money saved for the
purpose. There was no more coming home weary with office work and being
met at the door with that warm, loving welcome which the King of England
could not buy. There was no long evening when we read alternately from
some favorite book, or laid our deep housekeeping plans, rejoiced in a
good bargain or made light of a poor