"It don't do to think of her, and I won't!" said Polly to herself,
setting her lips with a grim look that was not at all becoming.
"What an easy life I should have plenty of money, quantities of
friends, all sorts of pleasures, and no work, no poverty, no cold
shoulders or patched boots. I could do so much for all at home
how I should enjoy that!" And Polly let her thoughts revel in the
luxurious future her fancy painted. It was a very bright picture, but
something seemed amiss with it, for presently she sighed and
shook her head, thinking sorrowfully, "Ah, but I don't love him,
and I 'm afraid I never can as I ought! He 's very good, and
generous, and wise, and would be kind, I know, but somehow I
can't imagine spending my life with him; I 'm so afraid I should get
tired of him, and then what should I do? Polly Sydney don't sound
well, and Mrs. Arthur Sydney don't seem to fit me a bit. Wonder
how it would seem to call him 'Arthur'?" And Polly said it under
her breath, with a look over her shoulder to be sure no one heard it.
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