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Rh "Nor care, I suppose, you hard-hearted thing."

"Why, Fan, what do you mean?"

"I'm not blind, my dear, neither is Tom; and when a young gentleman cuts a call abruptly short, and races after a young lady, and is seen holding her hand at the quietest corner of the park, and then goes travelling all of a sudden, we know what it means, if you don't."

"Who got up that nice idea, I should like to know?" demanded Polly, as Fanny stopped for breath.

"Now don't be affected, Polly, but just tell me, like a dear, hasn't he proposed?"

"No, he hasn't."

"Don't you think he means to?"

"I don't think he'll ever say a word to me."

"Well, I am surprised!" and Fanny drew a long breath as if a load was off her mind. Then she added, in a changed tone,—

"But don't you love him, Polly?"

"No."

"Truly?"

"Truly, Fan."

Neither spoke for a minute, but the heart of one of them beat joyfully, and the dusk hid a very happy face.

"Don't you think he cared for you, dear?" asked Fanny, presently. "I don't mean to be prying, but I really thought he did."

"That's not for me to say; but if it is so, it's only a passing fancy, and he'll soon get over it."

"Do tell me all about it; I'm so interested, and I know something has happened, I hear it in your voice, for I can't see your face."