him, I ought not to marry him, especially when I do love
somebody else, though everything is against me." If she had read as
many French novels as some young ladies, she might have considered it
interesting to marry under the circumstances and suffer a secret anguish
to make her a romantic victim. But Polly's education had been neglected,
and after a good deal of natural indecision she did what most women do
in such cases, thought she would "wait and see."

The discovery of Fanny's secret seemed to show her something to do, for
if the "wait and see" decision was making her friend unhappy, it must be
changed as soon as possible. This finished Polly's indecision, and
after that night she never allowed herself to dwell upon the pleasant
temptation which came in a guise particularly attractive to a young girl
with a spice of the old Eve in her composition. So day after day she
trudged through the dull back streets, longing for the sunny park, the
face that always brightened when it saw her coming, and most of all the
chance of meeting well, it was n't Trix.

When Saturday came, Polly started as usual for a visit to Becky and
Bess, but could n't resist stopping at the Shaws' to leave a little
parcel for Fan, though it was calling time. As she stepped in, meaning
to run up for a word if Fanny should chance to be alone, two hats on the
hall table arrested her.

"Who is here, Katy?"

"Only Mr. Sydney and Master Tom. Won't you stop a bit, Miss Polly?"

"Not this morning, I 'm rather in a hurry." And away went Polly as if a
dozen eager pupils were clamoring for her presence. But as the door shut
behind her she felt so left out in the cold, that her eyes filled,
and when Nep, Tom's great Newfoundland, came blundering after her, she
stopped and hugged his shaggy head, saying softly, as she looked into
the brown, benevolent eyes, full of almost human sympathy: "Now, go
back, old dear, you must n't follow me. Oh, Nep, it 's so hard to put
love away when you want it very much and it is n't right to take it."
A foolish little speech to make to a dog, but you see Polly was only a
tender-hearted girl, trying to do her duty.

"Since he is safe with Fanny, I may venture to walk where I like. It
's such a lovely day, all the babies will be out, and it always does me
good to see them," thought Polly, turning into the wide, sunny street,
where West End-dom promenaded at that hour.

The babies were out in full force, looking as gay and