ank money again, but she knew it would be of no use.
Besides, she did not wish her father and mother to know she had been
eavesdropping. She blushed with shame at the thought. Why had she not
run away at once, or gone boldly into the room. Oh, how she wished she
had!

Bedtime found her in the same frame of mind, although she tried to
appear as if nothing had occurred. She had bidden her mother
good-night, and her foot was on the stair, when the doorbell rang.

"I'll go," she called softly into the library, and then skipped to
answer the summons.

As the door opened she gave a surprised little scream.

"Harold Westwood!"

The boy darted inside, clasping his cousin with a glad cry.

"I supposed you were at boarding-school," Polly told him.

"I was," the lad replied a bit shamefacedly. Then bravely, "I ran away
to see you!"

"Why, Harold!"

"I don't care!" was the dogged response. "I had to!"

"I shouldn't think they'd have let you come in the night," said
Polly, leading him into the library.

The introduction relieved the lad of the necessity of an answer; but
Polly innocently plied her questions.

"Why didn't Julian come, too? Was it a half-holiday?"

For an instant Harold looked disconcerted. Then he replied boldly:--

"Jule doesn't know! I tell you, I ran away!"

Polly's eyes widened in astonishment. Mrs. Dudley smiled
understandingly.

"I gave the conductor my watch for security," the boy went on. "I told
him how 'twas, and he let me ride,--I guess out of his own pocket. He
was a good one! You see, I spent all my money in a jiffy for the first
part of the way and something to eat. I didn't s'pose tickets cost so
much."

"You dear child!" murmured Mrs. Dudley, her eyes soft with sympathy.
Then she caught him in her arms, as if he had been a baby.

"Have you had any supper?"

A weary little negative sent her into the pantry, and soon the hungry
lad was eating bread and butter and cheese and cookies, and feasting
his eyes upon Polly at the same time.

"Say, where in the world were you when I came away from your house?"
was the sudden inquiry.

"Out in the garage," Harold answered promptly.

"But didn't you hear us call?"

He nodded, his lips puckered into a half-smile.

"Why didn't you answer, then?" Polly was plainly puzzled.

"Because," he blurted out defiantly, "I wasn't coming to say good-bye
for anybody!"

"Perhaps you thought, with Dickens," interposed Mrs. Dudley
considerately,