Polly | Page 9

in trouble about something. You know how reserved she is

about her feelings, but when she sat on my knee she quite sobbed."
"I was rather brutal to her," said Polly, in a nonchalant tone, flinging up
the sash of the bedroom window as she spoke, and indulging in a
careless whistle.
It was bed-time, but the girls were tempted by the moonlight night to sit
up and look out at the still, sweet beauty, and chatter together.
"How could you be unkind to her?" said Helen, in a voice of dismay.
"Polly, dear, do shut that window again, or you will have a sore throat.
How could you be unkind to poor little Fly, Poll, when she is so
devoted to you?"
"The very reason," said Polly. "She'd never have gone over to you if I
hadn't. I saw rebellion in that young 'un's eye--that was why I called her
out. I was determined to nip it in the bud."
"But you rebelled yourself?"
"Yes, and I mean to go on rebelling. I am not Fly."
"Well, Polly," said Helen, suppressing a heavy sigh on her own account;
"you know I don't want you a bit to obey me. I am not a mistressing
sort of girl, and I like to consult you about things, and I want us both to
feel more or less as equals. Still father says there are quite two years
between us, and that the scheme cannot be worked at all unless some
one is distinctly at the head. He particularly spoke of you, Polly, and
said that if you would not agree we must go back to the idea of Miss
Jenkins, or that he will let this house for a time, and send us all to
school."
"A worse horror than the other," said Polly. "I wouldn't be a school-girl
for all you could give me! Why, the robin's nest might be discovered by
some one else, and my grubs and chrysalides would come to perfection
without me. No, no; rather than that--can't we effect a compromise,
Nell?"

"What is it?" asked Helen. "You know I am willing to agree to anything.
It is father."
"Oh, yes; poor Nell, you're the meekest and mildest of mortals. Now,
look here, wouldn't this be fun?"
Polly's black eyes began to dance.
"You know how fond I always was of housekeeping. Let me housekeep
every second week. Give me the money and let me buy every single
thing and pay for it, and don't interfere with me whatever I do. I'll
promise to be as good as gold always, and obey you in every single
thing, if only I have this safety-valve. Let me expend myself upon the
housekeeping, and I'll be as good, better than gold. I'll help you, and be
your right hand, Nell; and I'll obey you in the most public way before
all the other girls, and as to Fly, see if I don't keep her in hand. What do
you think of this plan, Nell? I, with my safety-valve, the comfort of
your life, a sort of general to keep your forces in order."
"But you really can't housekeep, Polly. Of course I'd like to please you,
and father said himself you were to help me in the house. But to
manage everything--why, it frightens me, and I am two years older."
"But you have so very little spirit, darling. Now it doesn't frighten me a
bit, and that's why I'm so certain I shall succeed splendidly. Look here,
Nell, let me speak to father, myself; if he says 'yes,' you won't object,
will you?"
"Of course not," said Helen.
"You are a darling--I'll soon bring father round. Now, shall we go to
bed?--I am so sleepy."
The next morning at breakfast Polly electrified her brothers and sisters
by the very meek way in which she appealed to Helen on all occasions.
"Do you think, Nell, that I ought to have any more of this marmalade
on fresh bread? I ate half a pot yesterday on three or four slices of hot

bread from the oven, and felt quite a dizzy stupid feeling in my head
afterwards."
"Of course, how could you expect it to agree with you, Polly?" said
Helen, looking up innocently from her place at the tea-tray.
"Had better have a little of this stale bread-and-butter then, dear?"
proceeded Polly in a would-be anxious tone.
"Yes, if you will, dear. But you never like stale bread-and-butter."
"I'll eat it if you wish me to, Helen," answered Polly, in a very meek,
good little voice.
The two boys began to chuckle, and even Dr. Maybright looked at his
second daughter in a puzzled, abstracted way. Helen, too, colored
slightly, and wondered what Polly meant. But the young lady herself
munched her