"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, stooping to smell the
flowers, and at the same time read a card that lay near them.
"You need n'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 is n'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.
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