"You can. Go and be good to him; you know how; he needs it enough, all alone there. I can't do it, for I 'm only a curse instead of a comfort to him.""How did he take your news?" asked Polly, who, for a time, had forgotten the lesser trouble in the greater.
"Like a lamb; for when I 'd done, he only said, 'My poor lad, we must bear with one another.' and then told his story.""I 'm glad he was kind," began Polly, in a soothing tone; but Tom cried out, remorsefully,­"That 's what knocks me over! Just when I ought to be a pride and a prop to him, I bring him my debts and disgrace, and he never says a word of blame. It 's no use, I can't stand it!" and Tom's head went down again with something very like a sob, that would come in spite of manful efforts to keep it back, for the poor fellow had the warmest heart that ever was, and all the fine waistcoats outside could n't spoil it.
That sound gave Polly more pain than the news of a dozen failures and expulsions, and it was as impossible for her to resist putting her hand tenderly on the bent head, as it was for her to help noticing with pleasure how brown the little curls were growing, and how soft they were. In spite of her sorrow, she enjoyed that minute very much, for she was a born consoler, and, it is hardly necessary for me to add, loved this reprehensible Tom with all her heart. It was a very foolish thing for her to do, she quite agreed to that; she could n't understand it, explain it, or help it; she only felt that she did care for him very much, in spite of his faults, his indifference, and his engagement. You see, she learned to love him one summer, when he made them a visit. That was before Trix caught him;and when she heard that piece of news, Polly could n't unlove him all at once, though she tried very hard, as was her duty. That engagement was such a farce, that she never had much faith in it, so she put her love away in a corner of her heart, and tried to forget it, hoping it would either die, or have a right to live. It did n't make her very miserable, because patience, work, and common-sense lent her a hand, and hope would keep popping up its bright face from the bottom of her Pandora-box of troubles.
Now and then, when any one said Trix would n't jilt Tom, or that Tom did care for Trix more than he should, Polly had a pang, and thought she could n't possibly bear it. But she always found she could, and so came to the conclusion that it was a merciful provision of nature that girls' hearts could stand so much, and their appetites continue good, when unrequited love was starving.
Now, she could not help yearning over this faulty, well-beloved scapegrace Tom, or help thinking, with a little thrill of hope, "If Trix only cared for his money, she may cast him off now he 's lost it; but I 'll love him all the better because he 's poor." With this feeling warm at her heart, I don't wonder that Polly's hand had a soothing effect, and that after a heave or two, Tom's shoulders were quiet, and certain smothered sniffs suggested that he would be all right again, if he could only wipe his eyes without any one's seeing him do it.
Polly seemed to divine his wish, and tucking a little, clean handkerchief into one of his half-open hands, she said, "I 'm going to your father, now," and with a farewell smooth, so comforting that Tom wished she 'd do it again, she went away.
As she paused a minute in the hall to steady herself, Maud called her from above, and thinking that the women might need her more than the men, she ran up to find Fanny waiting for her in her own room.
"Mamma's asleep, quite worn out, poor dear, so we can talk in here without troubling her," said Fanny, receiving her friend so quietly, that Polly was amazed.
"Let me come, too, I won't make any fuss; it 's so dreadful to be shut out everywhere, and have people crying and talking, and locked up, and I not know what it means," said Maud, beseechingly.
"You do know, now; I 've told her, Polly," said Fan, as they sat down together, and Maud perched herself on the bed, so that she might retire among the pillows if her feelings were too much for her.
"I 'm glad you take it so well, dear; I was afraid it might upset you,"said Polly, seeing now that in spite of her quiet manner, Fan's eyes had an excited look, and her cheeks a feverish color.
"I shall groan and moan by and by, I dare say, but at first it sort of dazed me, and now it begins to excite me. I ought to be full of sorrow for poor papa, and I am truly sorry, but, wicked as it may seem, it 's a fact, Polly, that I 'm half glad it 's happened, for it takes me out of myself, and gives me something to do."Fanny's eyes fell and her color rose as she spoke, but Polly understood why she wanted to forget herself, and put her arm round her with a more tender sympathy than Fanny guessed.
"Perhaps things are not as bad as they seem; I don't know much about such matters, but I 've seen people who have failed, and they seemed just as comfortable as before," said Polly.
"It won't be so with us, for papa means to give up everything, and not have a word said against him. Mamma's little property is settled upon her, and has n't been risked. That touched her so much! She dreads poverty even more than I do, but she begged him to take it if it would help him. That pleased him, but he said nothing would induce him to do it, for it would n't help much, and was hardly enough to keep her comfortable.""Do you know what he means to do?" asked Polly, anxiously.
"He said his plans were not made, but he meant to go into the little house that belonged to grandma, as soon as he could, for it was n't honest for a bankrupt to keep up an establishment like this.""I shan't mind that at all, I like the little house 'cause it 's got a garden, and there 's a cunning room with a three-cornered closet in it that I always wanted. If that 's all, I don't think bankrupting is so very bad," said Maud, taking a cheerful view of things.
"Ah, just wait till the carriage goes and the nice clothes and the servants, and we have to scratch along as we can. You 'll change your mind then, poor child," said Fanny, whose ideas of failure were decidedly tragical.
