CHAPTER XVIII. THE WOMAN WHO DID NOT DARE

andIwanttobeastruetoyouasyouweretomeifIcan.” Fanny'sfacewasfullofagitation,andshespokefastandfrankly,forshewastryingtobegenerousandfounditveryhard.Pollyunderstoodnowandputherfearatrestbysayingalmostpassionately,“ItellyouIdon'tlovehim!Ifhewastheonlymanintheworld,Iwouldn'tmarryhim,becauseIdon'twantto.” Thelastthreewordswereaddedinadifferenttone,forPollyhadcheckedherselftherewithahalf-frightenedlookandturnedawaytohideherfacebehindherhairagain. “Thenifit'snothim,it'ssomeoneelse.You'vegotasecret,Polly,andIshouldthinkyoumighttellit,asyouknowmine,”saidFanny,unabletoresttilleverythingwastold,forPolly'smannertroubledher. Therewasnoanswertoherquestion,butshewassatisfiedandputtingherarmroundherfriend,shesaid,inhermostpersuasivetone,“MypreciousPolly,doIknowhim?” “Youhaveseenhim.” “Andisheverywise,good,andsplendid,dear?” “No.” “Heoughttobeifyoulovehim.Ihopeheisn'tbad?”criedFan,anxiously,stillholdingPolly,whokeptherheadobstinatelyturned. “I'msuited,that'senough.” “Oh,pleasejusttellmeonethingmore.Don'thelovebackagain?” “No.Nowdon'tsayanotherword,Ican'tbearit!”andPollydrewherselfaway,asshespokeinadesperatesortoftone. “Iwon't,butnowI'mnotafraidtotellyouthatIthink,Ihope,IdobelievethatSydneycaresalittleforme.He'sbeenverykindtousall,andlatelyhehasseemedtoliketoseemealwayswhenhecomesandmissmeifI'mgone.Ididn'tdaretohopeanything,tillPapaobservedsomethinginhismanner,andteasedmeaboutit.Itrynottodeceivemyself,butitdoesseemasiftherewasachanceofhappinessforme.” “Thankheavenforthat!”criedPolly,withtheheartiestsatisfactioninhervoice.“Nowcomeandtellmeallaboutit,”sheadded,sittingdownonthecouchwiththeairofonewhohasescapedagreatperil. “I'vegotsomenotesandthingsIwanttoaskyouropinionabout,iftheyreallymeananything,youknow,”saidFanny,gettingoutabundleofpapersfromtheinmostrecessesofherdesk.“There'saphotographofTom,cameinhislastletter.Good,isn'tit?Helooksolder,butthat'sthebeardandtheroughcoat,Isuppose.Dearoldfellow,heisdoingsowellIreallybegintofeelquiteproudofhim.” Fantossedherthephotograph,andwentonrummagingforacertainnote.ShedidnotseePollycatchupthepictureandlookatitwithhungryeyes,butshedidhearsomethinginthelowtoneinwhichPollysaid,“Itdon'tdohimjustice,”andglancingoverhershoulder,Fan'squickeyecaughtaglimpseofthetruth,thoughPollywashalfturnedawayfromher.Withoutstoppingtothink,Fandroppedherletters,tookPollybytheshoulders,andcriedinatonefullofastonishment,“Polly,isitTom?” PoorPollywassotakenbysurprise,thatshehadnotawordtosay.Nonewereneededhertelltalefaceansweredforher,aswellastheimpulsewhichmadeherhideherheadinthesofacushion,likeafoolishostrichwhenthehuntersareafterit. “Oh,Polly,Iamsoglad!Ineverthoughtofityouaresogood,andhe'ssuchawildboy,Ican'tbelieveitbutitissodearofyoutocareforhim.” “Couldn'thelpittriednottobutitwassohardyouknow,Fan,youknow,”saidastifledvoicefromthedepthsoftheveryfuzzycushionwhichTomhadoncecondemned. Thelastwords,andtheappealinghandoutstretchedtoher,toldFannythesecretofherfriend'stendersympathyforherownlovetroubles,andseemedsopathetic,thatshetookPollyinherarms,andcriedoverher,inthefond,foolishwaygirlshaveofdoingwhentheirheartsarefull,andtearscansaymorethantongues.Thesilenceneverlastslong,however,forthefemininedesireto“talkitover”usuallygetsthebetterofthedeepestemotion.Sopresentlythegirlswerehardatit,Pollyveryhumbleanddowncast,Fannyexcitedandoverflowingwithcuriosityanddelight. “Reallymysister!Youdearthing,howheavenlythatwillbe,”shecried. “Itneverwillbe,”answeredPollyinatoneofcalmdespair. “Whatwillpreventit?” “MariaBailey,”wasthetragicreply. “Whatdoyoumean?IsshetheWesterngirl?Sheshan'thaveTomI'llkillherfirst!” “Toolate,letmetellyouisthatdoorshut,andMaudsafe?” Fannyreconnoitered,andreturning,listenedbreathlessly,whilePollypouredintoherearthebi