CHAPTER XIX. TOM'S SUCCESS

lice,“Ifhedon'tchoosetotellmehissecrets,I'mnotgoingtotellmine,”andhadsaidnothingaboutSydney,exceptanoccasionalallusiontohisbeingoftenthere,andverykind.Therefore,whensheannouncedherengagement,Tomlookedsostaggeredforaminute,thatFanthoughthedidn'tlikeitbutafterthefirstsurprisepassed,heshowedsuchanaffectionatesatisfaction,thatshewasbothtouchedandflattered. “Whatdoyouthinkofthisperformance?”askedTom,wheelingroundtoPolly,whostillsatbyMrs.Shaw,intheshadowofthebed-curtains. “Ilikeitverymuch,”shesaidinsuchaheartytone,thatTomcouldnotdoubtthegenuinenessofherpleasure. “Gladofthat.Hopeyou'llbeaswellpleasedwithanotherengagementthat'scomingoutbeforelong”andwithanoddlaugh,TomcarriedSydneyofftohisden,leavingthegirlstotelegraphtooneanothertheawfulmessage,“ItisMariaBailey.” Howshemanagedtogetthroughthatevening,Pollyneverknew,yetitwasnotalongone,forateighto'clocksheslippedoutoftheroom,meaningtorunhomealone,andnotcompelanyonetoserveasescort.Butshedidnotsucceed,forasshestoodwarmingherrubbersatthedining-roomfire,wonderingpensivelyasshedidsoifMariaBaileyhadsmallfeet,andifTomeverputherrubbersonforher,thelittleovershoesweretakenoutofherhands,andTom'svoicesaid,reproachfully,“Didyoureallymeantorunaway,andnotletmegohomewithyou?” “I'mnotafraidIdidn'twanttotakeyouaway,”beganPolly,secretlyhopingthatshedidn'tlooktoopleased. “ButIliketobetakenaway.Why,it'sawholeyearsinceIwenthomewithyoudoyourememberthat?”saidTom,flappingtherubbersaboutwithoutanysignsofhaste. “Doesitseemlong?” “Everlasting!” Pollymeanttosaythatquiteeasily,andsmileincredulouslyathisanswerbutinspiteofthecoquettishlittlerose-coloredhoodshewore,andwhichsheknewwasverybecoming,shedidnotlookorspeakgayly,andTomsawsomethinginthealteredfacethatmadehimsayhastily,“I'mafraidyou'vebeendoingtoomuchthiswinteryoulooktiredout,Polly.” “Oh,no!itsuitsmetobeverybusy,”andshebegantodragonherglovesasiftoproveit. “Butitdoesn'tsuitmetohaveyougetthinandpale,youknow.” Pollylookeduptothankhim,butneverdid,fortherewassomethingdeeperthangratitudeinthehonestblueeyes,thatcouldnothidethetruthentirely.Tomsawit,flushedalloverhisbrownface,anddroppingtherubberswithacrash,tookherhands,saying,inhisoldimpetuousway,“Polly,Iwanttotellyousomething!” “Yes,Iknow,we'vebeenexpectingit.Ihopeyou'llbeveryhappy,Tom”andPollyshookhishandswithasmilethatwasmorepatheticthanafloodoftears. “What!”criedTom,lookingasifhethoughtshehadlosthermind. “Nedtoldusallaboutherhethoughtitwouldbeso,andwhenyouspokeofanotherengagement,weknewyoumeantyourown.” “ButIdidn't!Ned'sthemanhetoldmetotellyou.It'sjustsettled.” “IsitMaria?”criedPolly,holdingontoachairasiftobepreparedforanything. “Ofcourse.Whoelseshoulditbe?” “Hedidn'tsayyoutalkedabouthermostandsowethought”stammeredPolly,fallingintoasuddenflutter. “ThatIwasinlove?Well,Iam,butnotwithher.” “Oh!”andPollycaughtherbreathasifadashofcoldwaterhadfallenonher,forthemoreinearnestTomgrew,theblunterhebecame. “DoyouwanttoknowthenameofthegirlI'velovedformorethanayear?Well,it'sPolly!”Ashespoke,Tomstretchedouthisarmstoher,withthesortofmuteeloquencethatcanno