"Your lessons didn't use to take up all your time. It's my private opinion that you are taking as well as giving lessons, miss," said Fan, putting on a playfully stern air, to hide her real anxiety.
"Yes, I am," answered Polly, soberly.
"In what? Love?"
A quick color came to Polly's cheeks, as she laughed, and said, looking away,—
"No; friendship and good works."
"Oh, indeed! May I ask who is your teacher?"
"I've more than one; but Miss Mills is head teacher."
"She instructs in good works; who gives the friendship lessons?"
"Such pleasant girls! I wish you knew them, Fan. So clever, and energetic, and kind, and happy, it always does me good to see them," cried Polly, with a face full of enthusiasm.
"Is that all?" And Fan gave her a curious look of mingled disappointment and relief.
"There, I told you my doings would not interest you, and they don't; they sound flat and prosy after your brilliant adventures. Let's change the subject," said Polly, looking relieved herself.
"Dear me, which of our sweethearts sends us dainty bouquets of violets so early in the morning?" asked Fanny, suddenly spying the purple cluster in a graceful little vase on the piano.
"He sends me one every week; he knows I love them so," and Polly's eyes turned that way full of pride and pleasure.
"I'd no idea he was so devoted," said Fanny,
