"Of course you can't; it 's snowing hard, and father won't be home with the carriage till this evening. What are you always cutting off to Polly's for?""I like it; we have such nice times, and Will is there, and we bake little johnny-cakes in the baker before the fire, and they sing, and it is so pleasant.""Warbling johnny-cakes must be interesting. Come and tell me all about it.""No, you 'll only laugh at me."
"I give you my word I won't, if I can help it; but I really am dying of curiosity to know what you do down there. You like to hear secrets, so tell me yours, and I 'll be as dumb as an oyster.""It is n't a secret, and you would n't care for it. Do you want another pillow?" she added, as Tom gave his a thump.
"This will do; but why you women always stick tassels and fringe all over a sofa-cushion, to tease and tickle a fellow, is what I don't understand.""One thing that Polly does Sunday nights, is to take Will's head in her lap, and smooth his forehead. It rests him after studying so hard, she says. If you don't like the pillow, I could do that for you, 'cause you look as if you were more tired of studying than Will," said Maud, with some hesitation, but an evident desire to be useful and agreeable.
"Well, I don't care if you do try it, for I am confoundedly tired."And Tom laughed, as he recalled the frolic he had been on the night before.
Maud established herself with great satisfaction, and Tom owned that a silk apron was nicer than a fuzzy cushion.
"Do you like it?" she asked, after a few strokes over the hot forehead, which she thought was fevered by intense application to Greek and Latin.
"Not bad; play away," was the gracious reply, as Tom shut his eyes, and lay so still that Maud was charmed at the success of her attempt. Presently, she said, softly,­"Tom, are you asleep?"
"Just turning the comer."
"Before you get quite round would you please tell me what a Public Admonition is?""What do you want to know for?" demanded Tom, opening his eyes very wide.
"I heard Will talking about Publics and Privates, and I meant to ask him, but I forgot.""What did he say?"
"I don't remember; it was about somebody who cut prayers, and got a Private, and had done all sorts of bad things, and had one or two Publics.
I did n't hear the name and did n't care; I only wanted to know what the words meant.""So Will tells tales, does he?" and Tom's forehead wrinkled with a frown.
"No, he did n't; Polly knew about it and asked him.""Will's a 'dig,'" growled Tom, shutting his eyes again, as if nothing more could be said of the delinquent William.
"I don't care if he is; I like him very much, and so does Polly.""Happy Fresh!" said Tom, with a comical groan.
"You need n't sniff at him, for he is nice, and treats me with respect," cried Maud, with an energy that made Tom laugh in her face.
"He 's good to Polly always, and puts on her cloak for her, and says 'my dear,' and kisses her 'goodnight,' and don't think it 's silly, and I wish I had a brother just like him, yes, I do!" And Maud showed signs of woe, for her disappointment about going was very great.
"Bless my boots! what's the chicken ruffling up her little feathers and pecking at me for? Is that the way Polly soothes the best of brothers?"said Tom, still laughing.
"Oh, I forgot! there, I won't cry; but I do want to go," and Maud swallowed her tears, and began to stroke again.
Now Tom's horse and sleigh were in the stable, for he meant to drive out to College that evening, but he did n't take Maud's hint. It was less trouble to lie still, and say in a conciliatory tone,­"Tell me some more about this good boy, it 's very interesting.""No, I shan't, but I 'll tell about Puttel's playing on the piano,"said Maud, anxious to efface the memory of her momentary weakness. "Polly points to the right key with a little stick, and Puttel sits on the stool and pats each key as it 's touched, and it makes a tune. It 's so funny to see her, and Nick perches on the rack and sings as if he 'd kill himself.""Very thrilling," said Tom, in a sleepy tone.
Maud felt that her conversation was not as interesting as she hoped, and tried again.
"Polly thinks you are handsomer than Mr. Sydney.""Much obliged."
"I asked which she thought had the nicest face, and she said yours was the handsomest, and his the best.""Does he ever go there?" asked a sharp voice behind them; and looking round Maud saw Fanny in the big chair, cooking her feet over the register.
"I never saw him there; he sent up some books one day, and Will teased her about it.""What did she do?" demanded Fanny.
"Oh, she shook him."
"What a spectacle!" and Tom looked as if he would have enjoyed seeing it, but Fanny's face grew so forbidding, that Tom's little dog, who was approaching to welcome her, put his tail between his legs and fled under the table.
"Then there is n't any 'Sparking Sunday night'?" sung Tom, who appeared to have waked up again.
"Of course not. Polly is n't going to marry anybody; she 's going to keep house for Will when he 's a minister, I heard her say so," cried Maud, with importance.
"What a fate for pretty Polly!" ejaculated Tom.
"She likes it, and I 'm sure I should think she would; it 's beautiful to hear 'em plan it all out.""Any more gossip to retail, Pug?" asked Tom a minute after, as Maud seemed absorbed in visions of the, future.
"He told a funny story about blowing up one of the professors. You never told us, so I suppose you did n't know it. Some bad fellow put a torpedo, or some sort of powder thing, under the chair, and it went off in the midst of the lesson, and the poor man flew up, frightened most to pieces, and the boys ran with pails of water to put the fire out. But the thing that made Will laugh most was, that the very fellow who did it got his trousers burnt trying to put out the fire, and he asked the­is it Faculty or President? ""Either will do," murmured Tom, who was shaking with suppressed laughter.
