The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1868-08-22
pOuLY'S ONE OFFER.
IN SIN CHAPTERS.

Polly did not find herposi,ion. under these
circumstances, at all unpleasant, rather the
reverse, indeed. There was IL great deal
going on at the Grange; never was Maggie
so busy in the kitchen, or so little at leisure
to devote herself to her friend; Laura and
Fanny had, Of course, occupations Of their
own, and were not going to be troubled with
Maggie's darling: and so it fell out that she
was often left to Bob, who had plenty OF
idle time on his hands, and was glad to en-
ploy it.
The first morning after her arrival Polly
was introduced to Sella in large, level pas
ture field, and Bob having put her in the
saddle with infinite care, and many assur-
ances that she need not be in the least afraid,
led the pretty creatures slowly round the
field. They were capital ma oh, he SAID,
and, if Polly liked, Stella should be hers
Then Polly had the bride in her own hands,
and Stella walked quietly and obligingly
after Bob close to the hedge, and then across
the field to the gate, where Mrs. Livingstone
stood, without being led. Mrs. Livingstone
said Stella was admirably trained, and Il do
Gle, fine tempered thing; and then she com
mended Polly as sitting nicely and straight
up, and babe Bob mind and take care of
her. This lesson was repeated every morn
ing after breakfast and Polly could soon
ride well enough to be trusted on the road
with Bob and Maggie, and SO they took sew
eral excursions together, not very long, and
Polly made acquaintance and drank tea in
f~-","!i,' ~ aAreral neighboring houses, where
she was evidently welcomed TOR sonvtoay'D
sake besides her own.
Every time this significant sort of welcome
was given her, Polly's heart suffered that
strange physical wrench, and so it did often
when she was with Bob alone, and he said
kind words, and gave her kind looks that
implied his love for her. He was never
rough with her now, but very quiet and wa
ry, as if he had an inkling Of that hidden
pang, and was watching for his opportunity
to speak without soaring her, and SO finally
to cure it. His wooing was not at all unlike
the process of breaking in Stella; Polly was
quite as shy, as proud, as averse to bit and
bride as that pretty thoroughbred ; but, once
subdued, Bob thought she would also be as
good and as obedient to his hand. y ct all
this while he was endcavoring to make her
compliant and tractable, Polly, was hard
ening her mind against him, and per-
picking Maggie more and more every day.
She had no fear of herself what she should
answer if Bob were so rash as to make love
to her openly las if his daily life at present
was not all love makingD but she hal
many doubts whether she had done what she
ought to have done in coming to Blackthorn
Grange. She had read very few novels, and
was child for worldly wisdom but she
knew it was not good for governess to be
called .1li,t, and Maggie said to her that If
she did not like Bob, she was no better than
a Hirt and a coquette, to which Polly had re-
piled that she did like Bob, and she would
not have bad names fastened upon her
But both the girls knew that they were talk
ing at cross purposes, and that liking meant
very different things in their vocabularies;
standing for downright true love in Maggie's,
and in Polly's for mere general sentiment
free to all the world.
Thus matters went on fora week, Bob al
ways confdent>anl easy, Polly sweet with
him and savage with herself, and Maggie at
her wits end over the vanity and vexation
of other peoples courtships. "lf," cogi-
tated she ,-"J Polly behaves badly to Bob,
she'll have such a fall in my mothers es
TEEN that shall never be allowed to set
eyes on her again, the plaguey puss! She
would be awfully kind and sensible if she
were left to her own discretion, for she has
the dearest little warm heart in the world
for them that love her; and she need not
think she is binding me; she is ever SO fond
of Bob, bless her only she is persuaded
that she's cut out for single life. What
silly, selfish woman Mrs. Curtis must be to
have filled her with such notions! / have
not patience to think of her!'
The wrench at Poly's heart was very fire.
quently repeated at this time; it was re-
newed indeed, day by day. There was an
old friend of the Livingstone family, a widow
lady, who often dropped i'll with her work
of an afternoon, and was quite in the conf
dencc of the sisters. She tried to take up
Polly in the same way, during one of her
visits, and extolled Bob SO highly that Mag
gle sat in dread lest Polly should indulge in
one of those sharp, satiric speeches for
which she was famous at school when pro-
voked. But no; Polly sat Inundated and
in pain, listening to feeble anecdotes of
Bob babyhood and boyhood, most of which
she had already heard from his mother, and
wishing she was safe at home and her trials
and temptations over. The family friend
plainly assumed that she had a special inter
est in Bob, or soon would have and she did
not feel skilful enough to parry the assump-
ton without bctraying that she understood
it. All Polly's fcints consisted in refusing
to see what she did not wish to see. While
the talk was still at its height, down came a
heavy polr of rain, and Bob stroled in from
the garden. Polly was in possession of his
peculiar chair, and quite simply, not mean
ing any. offence or expecting it to be taken,
he said, "Get up, Polly, and you shall sit
on my knee" Polly got up, and would
have stepped away but Bob dexterously
intercepted her and throned her ON his knee,