I hope you 'll be very
happy, Tom;" and Polly shook his hands with a smile that was
more pathetic than a flood of tears.
"What!" cried Tom, looking as if he thought she had lost her mind.
"Ned told us all about her; he thought it would be so, and when
you spoke of another engagement, we knew you meant your own."
"But I did n't! Ned's the man; he told me to tell you. It 's just
settled."
"Is it Maria?" cried Polly, holding on to a chair as if to be prepared
for anything.
"Of course. Who else should it be?"
"He did n't say you talked about her most and so we thought "
stammered Polly, falling into a sudden flutter.
"That I was in love? Well, I am, but not with her."
"Oh!" and Polly caught her breath as if a dash of cold water had
fallen on her, for the more in earnest Tom grew, the blunter he
became.
"Do you want to know the name of the girl I 've loved for more
than a year? Well, it 's Polly!" As he spoke, Tom stretched out his
arms to her, with the sort of mute eloquence that cannot be
resisted, and Polly went straight into them, without a word.
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