"Going up to the college?" he asked.

"Oh, no; there'd be no good in my knowing a lot. I've been nearly
through the Fieldham High School already, and the little that I've
learned doesn't seem to stick very well. No, indeed! I'm going to--"
she paused with a feeling of loyalty to Dan--"I'm only going to help
on the general cause of education," she finished demurely.

As she made this sphinx-like remark, Mr. Horace Clapp wished she would
relinquish the pursuit of wealth long enough to put her work down and
let him see exactly what she meant.

"I think that is the best use to put money to," he said gravely, "but
I'm not in the way of knowing about people who need help. Couldn't you
tell me of somebody, some young man who wanted to go to college, or
some girl who would like to go abroad? Of course, I could found a
scholarship, or endow a 'chair,' but one likes a bit of the personal
element in one's work."

Polly's heart gave a thump. Here was a chance for Dan; a word from her
was all that was needed to make his path an easy one. Had she a right
to withhold that word,--to cramp and hinder him? She did not speak for
a good many seconds; she simply plied her needle with more and more
diligence, while her breath came fast and unevenly. Suddenly a furious
blush went mounting up into her temples and spread itself down her
neck. Her visitor thought he had never seen any one blush like that,
and it somehow struck him that his little plan was swamped. Quite
right he was, too. Polly blushed to think that she had thought of Dan
in such a connection for a single instant.

It was very unreasoning, this impulse of rebellious shame: are we not
admonished to help one another? And what could the helpers do if all
their benefactions were indignantly thrust back? Very unreasoning
indeed, but natural!--natural as the colour of her hair and the
quickness of her wit, natural as all the graces and virtues, all the
misconceptions and foibles, that went to make up the personality of
Polly Fitch,--of Polly Fitch, the daughter of Puritan ancestors; men
and women who could starve, body and mind, but who never had learned
to accept a charity.

Before the flush had died away, Polly was quite herself again, and
looked up so brightly and sweetly that Mr. Clapp took heart of hope.

"You do know somebody like that; I'm sure you do!" he said
insinuatingly.

"I?" said Polly. "I know hardly anybody. But I'm sure the president of
the college could