e dress likewise, so look your
prettiest, and accept my blessing," continued Polly, seeing that Fan
liked her raillery.

"Time for what?" asked Paulina Pry.

"Your wedding, dear," sweetly answered Fan, for Polly's pleasant hints
and predictions put her in a charming humor, and even made old clothes
of little consequence.

Maud gave an incredulous sniff, and wondered why "big girls need to be
so dreadful mysterious about their old secrets."

"This silk reminds me of Kitty's performance last summer. A little
checked silk was sent in our spring bundle from Mrs. Davenport, and
Mother said Kit might have it if she could make it do. So I washed it
nicely, and we fussed and planned, but it came short by half of one
sleeve. I gave it up, but Kit went to work and matched every scrap that
was left so neatly that she got out the half sleeve, put it on the under
side, and no one was the wiser. How many pieces do you think she put in,
Maud?"

"Fifty," was the wise reply.

"No, only ten, but that was pretty well for a fourteen-year-old
dressmaker. You ought to have seen the little witch laugh in her sleeve
when any one admired the dress, for she wore it all summer and looked as
pretty as a pink in it. Such things are great fun when you get used to
them; besides, contriving sharpens your wits, and makes you feel as if
you had more hands than most people."

"I think we 'll get a farm near your house; I should like to know
Kitty," said Maud, feeling a curious interest in a girl who made such
peculiar patchwork.

"The dress-parade is over, and I 'm ever so much obliged to you, Polly,
for helping me through, and showing me how to make the best of things.
I hope in time to have as many hands as you," said Fan gratefully,
when the simple bonnet was done and everything planned out ready to be
finished.

"I hope you will soon have two good, strong ones beside your own, my
dear," answered Polly, as she vanished, with a parting twinkle that kept
Fan's face bright all day.

CHAPTER XVII. PLAYING GRANDMOTHER

I THINK Tom had the hardest time of all, for besides the family
troubles, he had many of his own to perplex and harass him. College
scrapes were soon forgotten in greater afflictions; but there were
plenty of tongues to blame "that extravagant dog," and plenty of heads
to wag ominously over prophecies of the good time Tom Shaw would now
make on the road to ruin. As reporters flourish in this country, of
course Tom soo