l to her.

"You are getting to be a regular old maid, Fan; as sharp as a lemon, and
twice as sour," returned Tom, looking down at her with an air of calm
superiority.

"Do be quiet, children; you know I can't bear anything like contention.
Maud, give me my Shetland shawl, and put a cushion at my back."

As Maud obeyed her mother, with a reproving look at her erring brother
and sister, a pause followed, for which every one seemed grateful. They
were sitting about the fire after dinner, and all looked as if a little
sunshine would do them good. It had been a dull November day, but all of
a sudden the clouds lifted, and a bright ray shot into the room. Every
one turned involuntarily to welcome it, and every one cried out, "Why,
Polly!" for there on the threshold stood a bright-faced girl, smiling as
if there was no such thing as November weather in the world.

"You dear thing, when did you come?" cried Fanny, kissing both the
blooming checks with real affection, while the rest hovered near,
waiting for a chance.

"I came yesterday, and have been getting my nest in order; but I could
n't keep away any longer, so I ran up to say 'How do you do?'" answered
Polly, in the cheery voice that did one's heart good to hear.

"My Polly always brings the sunshine with her," and Mr. Shaw held out
his hands to his little friend, for she was his favorite still.

It was good to see her put both arms about his neck, and give him a
tender kiss, that said a great deal, for grandma had died since Polly
met him last and she longed to comfort him, seeing how gray and old he
had grown.

If Tom had had any thoughts of following his father's example, something
in Polly's manner made him change his mind, and shake hands with a
hearty "I 'm very glad to see you, Polly," adding to himself, as he
looked at the face in the modest little bonnet: "Prettier than ever, by
Jove!"

There was something more than mere prettiness in Polly's face, though
Tom had not learned to see it yet. The blue eyes were clear and steady,
the fresh mouth frank and sweet, the white chin was a very firm one in
spite of the dimple, and the smooth forehead under the little curls
had a broad, benevolent arch; while all about the face were those
unmistakable lines and curves which can make even a plain countenance
comely, by breathing into it the beauty of a lovely character. Polly had
grown up, but she had no more style now than in the days of the round
hat and rough co