s united to a fair amount
of goodness, something to be devoutly thankful for. It is to be feared
that if a lumpish, dumpish sort of girl (good as gold, you know, but
not suitable for occasions when a fellow's will has to be caught "on
the fly," and held until it settles to its work),--if that lumpish,
dumpish girl had asked the way to Professor Salazar's house, Edgar
Noble would have led her courteously to the turn of the road, lifted
his hat, and wished her a pleasant journey.

But Polly was wearing her Sunday dress of brown cloth and a jaunty
jacket trimmed with sable (the best bits of an old pelisse of Mrs.
Oliver's). The sun shone on the loose-dropping coil of the waving hair
that was only caught in place by a tortoise-shell arrow; the wind blew
some of the dazzling tendrils across her forehead; the eyes that
glanced up from under her smart little sailor-hat were as blue as
sapphires; and Edgar, as he looked, suddenly feared that there might be
vicious bulls in the meadows, and did n't dare as a gentleman to trust
Polly alone! He had n't remembered anything special about her, but
after an interval of two years she seemed all at once as desirable as
dinner, as tempting as the minstrels, almost as fascinating as the
billiards, when one has just money enough in one's pocket for one's
last week's bills and none at all for the next!

The boys, as I say, had imagined Edgar's probable process of reasoning.
Polly was standing in the highroad where "a wayfaring man, though a
fool," could look at her; and when Edgar explained that it was his duty
to see her safely to her destination, they all bowed to the inevitable.
The one called Tony even said that he would be glad to "swap" with him,
and the whole party offered to support him in his escort duty if he
said the word. He agreed to meet the boys later, as Polly's quick ear
assured her, and having behaved both as a man of honor and knight of
chivalry, he started unsuspectingly across the fields with his would-be
guardian.

She darted a searching look at him as they walked along.

"Oh, how old and 'gentlemanly' you look, Edgar! I feel quite afraid of
you!"

"I 'm glad you do. There used to be a painful lack of reverence in
your manners, Miss Polly."

"There used to be a painful lack of politeness in yours, Mr. Edgar. Oh
dear, I meant to begin so nicely with you and astonish you with my new
grown-up manners! Now, Edgar, let us begin as if we had just been
introdu