stooping to smell the flowers, and at the same time read a card that lay near them.
"You needn't plague me about it, now you know it. I never speak of our fondness for one another, because such things seem silly to other people. Will isn't all that Jimmy was to me; but he tries to be, and I love him dearly for it."
"Will?" Fanny's voice quite startled Polly, it was so sharp and sudden, and her face grew red and pale all in a minute, as she upset the little vase with the start she gave.
"Yes, of course; who did you think I meant?" asked Polly, sopping up the water before it damaged her piano.
"Never mind; I thought you might be having a quiet little flirtation with somebody. I feel responsible, you know, because I told your mother I'd look after you. The flowers are all right. My head aches so, I hardly know what I'm doing this morning."
Fanny spoke fast, and laughed uncomfortably, as she went back to the sofa, wondering if Polly had told her a lie. Polly seemed to guess at her thoughts as she saw the card, and turning toward her, she held it up, saying, with a conscious look in her eyes,—
"You thought Mr. Sydney sent them? Well, you are mistaken, and the next time you want to know anything, please ask straight out. I like it better than talking at cross purposes."
"Now, my dear, don't be angry; I was only teasing you in fun. Tom took it into his foolish head that something was going on, and I felt a natural interest, you know."
