"Come, Philander, let us be a marching, Every one his true love a searching," WOULD be the most appropriate motto for this chapter, because, intimidated by the threats, denunciations, and complaints showered upon me in consequence of taking the liberty to end a certain story as I liked, I now yield to the amiable desire of giving satisfaction, and, at the risk of outraging all the unities, intend to pair off everybody I can lay my hands on.
Occasionally a matrimonial epidemic appears, especially toward spring, devastating society, thinning the ranks of bachelordom, and leaving mothers lamenting for their fairest daughters. That spring the disease broke out with great violence in the Shaw circle, causing paternal heads much bewilderment, as one case after another appeared with alarming rapidity. Fanny, as we have seen, was stricken first, and hardly had she been carried safely through the crisis, when Tom returned to swell the list of victims. As Fanny was out a good deal with her Arthur, who was sure that exercise was necessary for the convalescent, Polly went every day to see Mrs. Shaw, who found herself lonely, though much better than usual, for the engagement had a finer effect upon her constitution than any tonic she ever tried. Some three days after Fan's joyful call Polly was startled on entering the Shaws'
door, by Maud, who came tumbling down stairs, sending an avalanche of words before her,­"He 's come before he said he should to surprise us! He 's up in mamma's room, and was just saying, 'How 's Polly?' when I heard you come, in your creep-mouse way, and you must go right up. He looks so funny with whiskers, but he 's ever so nice, real big and brown, and he swung me right up when he kissed me. Never mind your bonnet, I can't wait."And pouncing upon Polly, Maud dragged her away like a captured ship towed by a noisy little steam-tug.
"The sooner it 's over the better for me," was the only thought Polly had time for before she plunged into the room above, propelled by Maud, who cried triumphantly,­"There he is! Ain't he splendid?"
For a minute, everything danced before Polly's eyes, as a hand shook hers warmly, and a gruffish voice said heartily,­"How are you, Polly?" Then she slipped into a chair beside Mrs.
Shaw, hoping that her reply had been all right and proper, for she had not the least idea what she said.
Things got steady again directly, and while Maud expatiated on the great surprise, Polly ventured to look at Tom, feeling glad that her back was toward the light, and his was not. It was not a large room, and Tom seemed to fill it entirely; not that he had grown so very much, except broader in the shoulders, but there was a brisk, genial, free-and-easy air about him, suggestive of a stirring, out-of-door life, with people who kept their eyes wide open, and were not very particular what they did with their arms and legs. The rough-and-ready travelling suit, stout boots, brown face, and manly beard, changed him so much, that Polly could find scarcely a trace of elegant Tom Shaw in the hearty-looking young man who stood with one foot on a chair, while he talked business to his father in a sensible way, which delighted the old gentleman. Polly liked the change immensely, and sat listening to the state of Western trade with as much interest as if it had been the most thrilling romance, for, as he talked, Tom kept looking at her with a nod or a smile so like old times, that for a little while, she forgot Maria Bailey, and was in bliss.
By and by Fanny came flying in, and gave Tom a greater surprise than his had been. He had not the least suspicion of what had been going on at home, for Fan had said to herself, with girlish malice, "If he don't choose to tell me his secrets, I 'm not going to tell mine," and had said nothing about Sydney, except an occasional allusion to his being often there, and very kind. Therefore, when she announced her engagement, Tom looked so staggered for a minute, that Fan thought he did n't like it;but after the first surprise passed, he showed such an affectionate satisfaction, that she was both touched and flattered.
"What do you think of this performance?" asked Tom, wheeling round to Polly, who still sat by Mrs. Shaw, in the shadow of the bed-curtains.
"I like it very much," she said in such a hearty tone, that Tom could not doubt the genuineness of her pleasure.
"Glad of that. Hope you 'll be as well pleased with another engagement that 's coming out before long"; and with an odd laugh, Tom carried Sydney off to his den, leaving the girls to telegraph to one another the awful message,­"It is Maria Bailey."
How she managed to get through that evening, Polly never knew, yet it was not a long one, for at eight o'clock she slipped out of the room, meaning to run home alone, and not compel any one to serve as escort. But she did not succeed, for as she stood warming her rubbers at the dining-room fire, wondering pensively as she did so if Maria Bailey had small feet, and if Tom ever put her rubbers on for her, the little overshoes were taken out of her hands, and Tom's voice said, reproachfully,­"Did you really mean to run away, and not let me go home with you?""I 'm not afraid; I did n't want to take you away," began Polly, secretly hoping that she did n't look too pleased.
"But I like to be taken away. Why, it 's a whole year since I went home with you; do you remember that?" said Tom, flapping the rubbers about without any signs of haste.
"Does it seem long?"
"Everlasting!"
Polly meant to say that quite easily, and smile incredulously at his answer; but in spite of the coquettish little rose-colored hood she wore, and which she knew was very becoming, she did not look or speak gayly, and Tom saw something in the altered face that made him say hastily,­"I 'm afraid you 've been doing too much this winter; you look tired out, Polly.""Oh, no! it suits me to be very busy," and she began to drag on her gloves as if to prove it.
