When Saturday came, Polly started as usual for a visit to Becky
and Bess, but could n't resist stopping at the Shaws' to leave a little
parcel for Fan, though it was calling time. As she stepped in,
meaning to run up for a word if Fanny should chance to be alone,
two hats on the hall table arrested her.
"Who is here, Katy?"
"Only Mr. Sydney and Master Tom. Won't you stop a bit, Miss
Polly?"
"Not this morning, I 'm rather in a hurry." And away went Polly as
if a dozen eager pupils were clamoring for her presence. But as the
door shut behind her she felt so left out in the cold, that her eyes
filled, and when Nep, Tom's great Newfoundland, came
blundering after her, she stopped and hugged his shaggy head,
saying softly, as she looked into the brown, benevolent eyes, full of
almost human sympathy: "Now, go back, old dear, you must n't
follow me. Oh, Nep, it 's so hard to put love away when you want
it very much and it is n't right to take it." A foolish little speech to
make to a dog, but you see Polly was only a tender-hearted girl,
trying to do her duty.
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