Chapter XIII. The Sunny Side

by Louisa May Alcott

　　Chapter XIII. The Sunny Side"I've won the wager, Tom.""Did n't know there was one.""Don't you remember you said Polly would be tired of her teachingand give it up in three months, and I said she would n't?""Well, is n't she?""Not a bit of it. I thought she was at one time, and expected everyday to have her come in with a long face, and say she could n'tstand it. But somehow, lately, she is always bright and happy,seems to like her work, and don't have the tired, worried look sheused to at first. The three months are out, so pay up, Tommy.""All right, what will you have?""You may make it gloves. I always need them, and papa lookssober when I want money."There was a minute's pause as Fan returned to her practising, andTom relapsed into the reverie he was enjoying seated astride of achair, with his chin on his folded arms."Seems to me Polly don't come here as often as she used to," hesaid, presently."No, she seems to be very busy; got some new friends, I believe,old ladies, sewing-girls, and things of that sort. I miss her, butknow she'll get tired of being goody, and will come back to mebefore long.""Don't be too sure of that, ma'am." Something in Tom's tone madeFan turn round, and ask, "What do you mean?""Well, it strikes me that Sydney is one of Polly's new friends. Haven't you observed that she is uncommonly jolly, and don't that sortof thing account for it?""Nonsense!" said Fanny, sharply."Hope it is," coolly returned Tom."What put it into your head?" demanded Fanny, twirling roundagain so that her face was hidden."Oh, well, I keep meeting Syd and Polly circulating in the samedirections; she looks as if she had found something uncommonlynice, and he looks as if all creation was getting Pollyfied prettyrapidly. Wonder you have n't observed it.""I have."It was Tom's turn to look surprised now, for Fanny's voice soundedstrange to him. He looked at her steadily for a minute, but sawonly a rosy ear and a bent head. A cloud passed over his face, andhe leaned his chin on his arm again with a despondent whistle, ashe said to himself, "Poor Fan! Both of us in a scrape at once.""Don't you think it would be a good thing?" asked Fanny, afterplaying a bar or two, very badly."Yes, for Syd.""Not for Polly? Why, he's rich, and clever, and better than most ofyou good-for-nothing fellows. What can the girl expect?""Can't say, but I don't fancy the match myself.""Don't be a dog in the manger, Tom." "Bless your little heart, Ionly take a brotherly sort of interest in Polly. She's a capital girl,and she ought to marry a missionary, or one of your reformerfellows, and be a shining light of some sort. I don't think setting upfor a fine lady would suit her.""I think it would, and I hope she'll have the chance," said Fanny,evidently making an effort to speak kindly."Good for you, Fan!" and Tom gave an emphatic nod, as if herwords meant more than she suspected "Mind you," he added, "Idon't know anything, and only fancied there might be some littleflirtation going on. But I dare say it's nothing.""Time will show." Then Fan began to sing, and Tom's horse came,so he departed with the very unusual demonstration of a gentle paton the head, as he said kindly, "That's right, my dear, keep jolly."It was n't an elegant way of expressing sympathy, but it was hearty,and Fan thanked him for it, though she only said, "Don't breakyour neck, Tommy."When he was gone, Fan's song ended as suddenly as it began, andshe sat thinking, with varying expressions of doubt and troublepassing rapidly across her face."Well, I can't do anything but wait!" she said, at last, slamming themusic-book together with a desperate look. "Yes, I can," sheadded, a minute after, "it's Polly's holiday. I can go and see her,and if there is anything in it I shall find it out."Fanny dropped her face into her hands, with a little shiver, as shesaid that; then got up, looking as pale and resolute as if going tomeet some dreadful doom, and putting on her things, went away toPolly's as fast as her dignity would allow.Saturday morning was Polly's clearing-up day, and Fan found herwith a handkerchief tied over her head, and a big apron on, justputting the last touches to the tidy little room, which was as freshand bright as water, air, and a pair of hands could make it."All ready for company. I'll just whisk off my regimentals, andPolly, the maid, becomes Polly, the missis. It was lovely of you tocome early; take off your things. Another new bonnet? youextravagant wretch! How is your mother and Maudie? It's a niceday, and we'll have a walk, won't we?"By the time Polly's welcome was uttered, she had got Fan on thelittle sofa beside her, and was smiling at her in such an infectiousmanner, that Fan could n't help smiling back."I came to see what you have been doing with yourself lately. Youdon't come and report, and I got anxious about you," said Fanny,looking into the clear eyes before her."I've been so busy; and I knew you would n't care to hear about mydoings, for they are n't the sort you like," answered Polly."Your lessons did n't use to take up all your time. It's my privateopinion that you are taking as well as giving lessons, miss," saidFan, putting on a playfully stern air, to hide her real anxiety."Yes, I am," answered Polly, soberly."In what? Love?"A quick color came to Polly's cheeks, as she laughed, and said,looking away, "No; friendship and good works.""Oh, indeed! May I ask who is your teacher?""I've more than one; but Miss Mills is head teacher.""She instructs in good works; who gives the friendship lessons?""Such pleasant girls! I wish you knew them, Fan. So clever, andenergetic, and kind, and happy, it always does me good to seethem," cried Polly, with a face full of enthusiasm."Is that all?" And Fan gave her a curious look of mingleddisappointment and relief."There, I told you my doings would not interest you, and theydon't; they sound flat and prosy after your brilliant adventures. Let's change the subject," said Polly, looking relieved herself."Dear me, which of our sweethearts sends us dainty bouquets ofviolets so early in the morning?" asked Fanny, suddenly spying thepurple cluster in a graceful little vase on the piano."He sends me one every week; he knows I love them so," andPolly's eyes turned that way full of pride and pleasure."I'd no idea he was so devoted," said Fanny, stooping to smell theflowers, and at the same time read a card that lay near them."You need n't plague me about it, now you know it. I never speakof our fondness for one another, because such things seem silly toother people. Will is n't all that Jimmy was to me; but he tries tobe, and I love him dearly for it.""Will?" Fanny's voice quite startled Polly, it was so sharp andsudden, and her face grew red and pale all in a minute, as sheupset the little vase with the start she gave."Yes, of course; who did you think I meant?" asked Polly, soppingup the water before it damaged her piano."Never mind; I thought you might be having a quiet little flirtationwith somebody. I feel responsible, you know, because I told yourmother I'd look after you. The flowers are all right. My head achesso, I hardly know what I'm doing this morning."Fanny spoke fast, and laughed uncomfortably, as she went back tothe sofa, wondering if Polly had told her a lie. Polly seemed toguess at her thoughts as she saw the card, and turning toward her,she held it up, saying, with a conscious look in her eyes, "Youthought Mr. Sydney sent them? Well, you are mistaken, and thenext time you want to know anything, please ask straight out. I likeit better than talking at cross purposes.""Now, my dear, don't be angry; I was only teasing you in fun. Tomtook it into his foolish head that something was going on, and I felta natural interest, you know.""Tom! What does he know or care about my affairs?" demandedPolly."He met you two in the street pretty often, and being in asentimental mood himself, got up a romance for you and Sydney.""I'm much obliged to him for his interest, but it's quite wasted,thank you."Fan's next proceeding gave her friend another surprise, for, beingrather ashamed of herself, very much relieved, and quite at a losswhat to say, she took refuge in an hysterical fit of tears, whichchanged Polly's anger into tenderness at once."Is that the trouble she has been hiding all winter? Poor dear, Iwish I'd known it sooner," thought Polly, as she tried to soothe herwith comfortable pats, sniffs of cologne and sympathizing remarksupon the subject of headache, carefully ignoring that otherfeminine affliction, the heartache."There, I feel better. I've been needing a good cry for some time,and now I shall be all right. Never mind it, Polly, I'm nervous andtired; I've danced too much lately, and dyspepsia makes me blue;"and Fanny wiped her eyes and laughed."Of course it does; you need rest and petting, and here I've beenscolding you, when I ought to have been extra kind. Now tell mewhat I can do for you," said Polly, with a remorseful face."Talk to me, and tell me all about yourself. You don't seem to haveas many worries as other people. What's the secret, Polly?" AndFan looked up with wet eyes, and a wistful face at Polly, who wasputting little dabs of cologne all over her head."Well," said Polly, slowly, "I just try to look on the bright side ofthings; that helps one amazingly. Why, you've no idea how muchgoodness and sunshine you can get out of the most unpromisingthings, if you make the best of them.""I don't know how," said Fan, despondently."You can learn; I did. I used to croak and fret dreadfully, and getso unhappy, I was n't fit for anything. I do it still more than I ought,but I try not to, and it gets easier, I find. Get a-top of your troubles,and then they are half cured, Miss Mills says.""Everything is so contrary and provoking," said Fanny, petulantly."Now what in the world have you to fret about?" asked Polly,rather anxiously."Quantities of things," began Fan, and then stopped, for somehowshe felt ashamed to own that she was afflicted because she couldn't have a new set of furs, go to Paris in the spring, and make Mr.Sydney love her. She hunted up something more presentable, andsaid in a despairing tone, "Well, mother is very poorly, Tom andTrix quarrel all the time, Maud gets more and more wilful everyday, and papa is worried about his affairs.""A sad state of things, but nothing very desperate. Can't you lend ahand anywhere? That might do good all round.""No; I have n't the talent for managing people, but I see what oughtto be done.""Well, don't wail about it; keep yourself happy, if you can; it willhelp other people to see you cheerful.""Just what Tom said,'Keep jolly'; but, dear me, how can one, wheneverything is so stupid and tiresome?""If ever a girl needed work, it's you!" cried Polly. "You began tobe a young lady so early, that you are tired of everything attwenty-two. I wish you'd go at something, then you'd find howmuch talent and energy you really had.""I know ever so many girls who are just like me, sick to death offashionable life but don't know what to take in its place. I'd like totravel; but papa says he can't afford it, so I can only drag about andget on as I may.""I pity you rich girls so much, you have so many opportunities, anddon't seem to know how to use them! I suppose I should do just thesame in your place, but it seems now as if I could be very happyand useful with plenty of money.""You are that without it. There, I won't croak any more. Let us goand take a good walk, and don't you tell any one how I came andcried like a baby.""Never!" said Polly, putting on her bonnet."I ought to go and make calls," said Fanny, "but I don't feel now asif I ever wanted to see any of the girls again. Dreadful state ofmind, is n't it?""Suppose you come and see some of my friends instead! They arenot fine or ceremonious, but lively, odd, and pleasant. Come, itwill amuse you.""I will," cried Fanny, whose spirits seemed improved by theshower. "Nice little old lady, is n't she?" added Fan, as she caughtsight of Miss Mills, on their way out, sitting at a table piled withwork, and sewing away with an energy that made the gray curlsvibrate."Saint Mehitable, I call her. Now, there is a rich woman who knewhow to get happiness out of her money," said Polly, as they walkedaway. "She was poor till she was nearly fifty; then a comfortablefortune was left her, and she knew just how to use it. That housewas given her, but instead of living in it all alone, she filled it withpoor gentlefolks who needed neat, respectable homes, but could n'tget anything comfortable for their little money. I'm one of them,and I know the worth of what she does for me. Two old widowladies live below me, several students overhead, poor Mrs. Keanand her lame boy have the back parlor, and Jenny the littlebedroom next Miss Mills. Each pays what they can; that'sindependent, and makes us feel better but that dear woman does athousand things that money can't pay for, and we feel her influenceall through the house. I'd rather be married, and have a home ofmy own; but next to that, I should like to be an old maid like MissMills."Polly's sober face and emphatic tone made Fanny laugh, and at thecheery sound a young girl pushing a baby-carriage looked roundand smiled.What lovely eyes!" whispered Fanny.Yes, that's little Jane," returned Polly, adding, when she hadpassed, with a nod and a friendly "Don't get tired, Jenny," "we helpone another at our house, and every fine morning Jenny takesJohnny Kean out when she goes for her own walk. That gives hismother time to rest, does both the children good, and keeps thingsneighborly. Miss Mills suggested it, and Jenny is so glad to doanything for anybody, it's a pleasure to let her.""I've heard of Miss Mills before. But I should think she would gettired to death, sitting there making hoods and petticoats day afterday," said Fanny, after thinking over Jenny's story for a fewminutes, for seeing the girl seemed to bring it nearer, and make itmore real to her."But she don't sit there all the time. People come to her with theirtroubles, and she goes to them with all sorts of help, from soap andsoup, to shrouds for the dead and comfort for the living. I go withher sometimes, and it is more exciting than any play, to see andhear the lives and stories of the poor.""How can you bear the dreadful sights and sounds, the bad air, andthe poverty that can't be cured?""But it is n't all dreadful. There are good and lovely things amongthem, if one only has eyes to see them. It makes me grateful andcontented, shows me how rich I am, and keeps me ready to do all Ican for these poor souls.""My good Polly!" and Fanny gave her friends arm an affectionatesqueeze, wondering if it was this alone that had worked the changein Polly."You have seen two of my new friends, Miss Mills and Jenny, nowI'll show you two more," said Polly, presently, as they reached adoor, and she led the way up several flights of public stairs."Rebecca Jeffrey is a regularly splendid girl, full of talent; shewon't let us call it genius; she will be famous some day, I know,she is so modest, and yet so intent on her work. Lizzie Small is anengraver, and designs the most delightful little pictures. Becky andshe live together, and take care of one another in true Damon andPythias style. This studio is their home, they work, eat, sleep, andlive here, going halves in everything. They are all alone in theworld, but as happy and independent as birds; real friends, whomnothing will part.""Let a lover come between them, and their friendship won't lastlong," said Fanny."I think it will. Take a look at them, and you'll change your mind,"answered Polly, tapping at a door, on which two modest cardswere tacked."Come in!" said a voice, and obeying, Fanny found herself in alarge, queerly furnished room, lighted from above, and occupiedby two girls. One stood before a great clay figure, in a corner. Thisone was tall, with a strong face, keen eyes, short, curly hair, and afine head. Fanny was struck at once by this face and figure, thoughthe one was not handsome, and the other half hidden by a greatpinafore covered with clay. At a table where the light was clearest,sat a frail-looking girl, with a thin face, big eyes, and pale hair, adreamy, absorbed little person, who bent over a block, skillfullywielding her tools."Becky and Bess, how do you do? This is my friend, Fanny Shaw.We are out on a rampage; so go on with your work, and let us lazyones look on and admire."As Polly spoke, both girls looked up and nodded, smilingly; Bessgave Fan the one easy-chair; Becky took an artistic survey of thenew-comer, with eyes that seemed to see everything; then eachwent on with her work, and all began to talk."You are just what I want, Polly. Pull up your sleeve, and give mean arm while you sit; the muscles here are n't right, and you've gotjust what I want," said Becky, slapping the round arm of the statue,at which Fan was gazing with awe."How do you get on?" asked Polly, throwing off her cloak, androlling up her sleeves, as if going to washing."Slowly. The idea is working itself clear, and I follow as fast as myhands can. Is the face better, do you think?" said Becky, taking offa wet cloth, and showing the head of the statue."How beautiful it is!" cried Fanny, staring at it with increasedrespect."What does it mean to you?" asked Rebecca, turning to her with asudden shine in her keen eyes."I don't know whether it is meant for a saint or a muse, a goddessor a fate; but to me it is only a beautiful woman, bigger, lovelier,and more imposing than any woman I ever saw," answered Fanny,slowly, trying to express the impression the statue made upon her.Rebecca smiled brightly, and Bess looked round to nodapprovingly, but Polly clapped her hands, and said, "Well done,Fan! I did n't think you'd get the idea so well, but you have, and I'm proud of your insight. Now I'll tell you, for Becky will let me,since you have paid her the compliment of understanding herwork. Some time ago we got into a famous talk about what womenshould be, and Becky said she'd show us her idea of the comingwoman. There she is, as you say, bigger, lovelier, and moreimposing than any we see nowadays; and at the same time, she is atrue woman. See what a fine forehead, yet the mouth is both firmand tender, as if it could say strong, wise things, as well as teachchildren and kiss babies. We could n't decide what to put in thehands as the most appropriate symbol. What do you say?""Give her a sceptre: she would make a fine queen," answeredFanny."No, we have had enough of that; women have been called queensa long time, but the kingdom given them is n't worth ruling,"answered Rebecca."I don't think it is nowadays," said Fanny, with a tired sort of sigh."Put a man's hand in hers to help her along, then," said Polly,whose happy fortune it had been to find friends and helpers infather and brothers."No; my woman is to stand alone, and help herself," said Rebecca,decidedly."She's to be strong-minded, is she?" and Fanny's lip curled a littleas she uttered the misused words."Yes, strong-minded, strong-hearted, strong-souled, andstrong-bodied; that is why I made her larger than the miserable,pinched-up woman of our day. Strength and beauty must gotogether. Don't you think these broad shoulders can bear burdenswithout breaking down, these hands work well, these eyes seeclearly, and these lips do something besides simper and gossip?"Fanny was silent; but a voice from Bess's corner said, "Put a childin her arms, Becky.""Not that even, for she is to be something more than a nurse.""Give her a ballot-box," cried a new voice, and turning round, theysaw an odd-looking woman perched on a sofa behind them."Thank you for the suggestion, Kate. I'll put that with the othersymbols at her feet; for I'm going to have needle, pen, palette, andbroom somewhere, to suggest the various talents she owns, and theballot-box will show that she has earned the right to use them.How goes it?" and Rebecca offered a clay-daubed hand, which thenew-comer cordially shook."Great news, girls! Anna is going to Italy!" cried Kate, tossing upher bonnet like a school-boy."Oh, how splendid! Who takes her? Has she had a fortune left her?Tell all about it," exclaimed the girls, gathering round the speaker."Yes, it is splendid; just one of the beautiful things that doeseverybody heaps of good, it is so generous and so deserved. Youknow Anna has been longing to go; working and hoping for achance, and never getting it, till all of a sudden Miss Burton isinspired to invite the girl to go with her for several years to Italy.Think of the luck of that dear soul, the advantages she'll have, thegood it will do her, and, best of all, the lovely way in which itcomes to her. Miss Burton wants, her as a friend, asks nothing ofher but her company, and Anna will go through fire and water forher, of course. Now, is n't that fine?"It was good to see how heartily these girls sympathized in theircomrade's good fortune. Polly danced all over the room, Bess andBecky hugged one another, and Kate laughed with her eyes full,while even Fanny felt a glow of, pride and pleasure at the kind act."Who is that?" she whispered to Polly, who had subsided into acorner."Why, it Is Kate King, the authoress. Bless me, how rude not tointroduce you! Here, my King, is an admirer of yours, Fanny Shaw,and my well beloved friend," cried Polly, presenting Fan, whoregarded the shabby young woman with as much respect, as if shehad been arrayed in velvet and ermine; for Kate had written asuccessful book by accident, and happened to be the fashion, justthen."It's time for lunch, girls, and I brought mine along with me, it'sso much jollier to eat in sisterhood. Let's club together, and have arevel," said Kate, producing a bag of oranges, and several big,plummy buns."We've got sardines, crackers, and cheese," said Bess, clearing offa table with all speed."Wait a bit, and I'll add my share," cried Polly, and catching upher cloak, she ran off to the grocery store near by."You'll be shocked at our performances, Miss Shaw, but you cancall it a picnic, and never tell what dreadful things you saw us do,"said Rebecca, polishing a paint knife by rubbing it up and down ina pot of ivy, while Kate spread forth the feast in several odd plates,and a flat shell or two."Let us have coffee to finish off with; put on the pot, Bess, andskim the milk," added Becky, as she produced cups, mugs, and aqueer little vase, to supply drinking vessels for the party."Here's nuts, a pot of jam, and some cake. Fan likes sweet things,and we want to be elegant when we have company," said Polly,flying in again, and depositing her share on the table."Now, then, fall to, ladies, and help yourselves. Never mind if thechina don't hold out; take the sardines by their little tails, and wipeyour fingers on my brown-paper napkins," said Kate, setting theexample with such a relish, that the others followed it in a gale ofmerriment.Fanny had been to many elegant lunches, but never enjoyed onemore than that droll picnic in the studio; for there was a freedomabout it that was charming, an artistic flavor to everything, andsuch a spirit of good-will and gayety, that she felt at home at once.As they ate, the others talked and she listened, finding it asinteresting as any romance to hear these young women discusstheir plans, ambitions, successes, and defeats. It was a new worldto her, and they seemed a different race of creatures from the girlswhose lives were spent in dress, gossip, pleasure, or ennui. Theywere girls still, full of spirits fun, and youth; but below thelight-heartedness each cherished a purpose, which seemed toennoble her womanhood, to give her a certain power, a sustainingsatisfaction, a daily stimulus, that led her on to daily effort, and intime to some success in circumstance or character, which wasworth all the patience, hope, and labor of her life.Fanny was just then in the mood to feel the beauty of this, for thesincerest emotion she had ever known was beginning to make herdissatisfied with herself, and the aimless life she led. "Men mustrespect such girls as these," she thought; "yes, and love them too,for in spite of their independence, they are womanly. I wish I had atalent to live for, if it would do as much for me as it does for them.It is this sort of thing that is improving Polly, that makes hersociety interesting to Sydney, and herself so dear to every one.Money can't buy these things for me, and I want them very much."As these thoughts were passing through her mind, Fanny washearing all sorts of topics discussed with feminine enthusiasm andfrankness. Art, morals, politics, society, books, religion,housekeeping, dress, and economy, for the minds and tonguesroved from subject to subject with youthful rapidity, and seemed toget something from the dryest and the dullest."How does the new book come on?" asked Polly, sucking herorange in public with a composure which would have scandalizedthe good ladies of "Cranford.""Better than it deserves. My children, beware of popularity; it is adelusion and a snare; it puffeth up the heart of man, and especiallyof woman; it blindeth the eyes to faults; it exalteth unduly thehumble powers of the victim; it is apt to be capricious, and just asone gets to liking the taste of this intoxicating draught, it suddenlyfaileth, and one is left gasping, like a fish out of water," and Kateemphasized her speech by spearing a sardine with a penknife, andeating it with a groan."It won't hurt you much, I guess; you have worked and waited solong, a large dose will do you good," said Rebecca, giving her agenerous spoonful of jam, as if eager to add as much sweetness aspossible to a life that had not been an easy one."When are you and Becky going to dissolve partnership?" askedPolly, eager for news of all."Never! George knows he can't have one without the other, and hasnot suggested such a thing as parting us. There is always room inmy house for Becky, and she lets me do as she would if she was inmy place," answered Bess, with a look which her friend answeredby a smile."The lover won't separate this pair of friends, you see," whisperedPolly to Fan. "Bess is to be married in the spring, and Becky is tolive with her.""By the way, Polly, I've got some tickets for you. People arealways sending me such things, and as I don't care for them, I'mglad to make them over to you young and giddy infants. There arepasses for the statuary exhibition, Becky shall have those, here arethe concert tickets for you, my musical girl; and that is for a courseof lectures on literature, which I'll keep for myself."As Kate dealt out the colored cards to the grateful girls, Fanny tooka good look at her, wondering if the time would ever come whenwomen could earn a little money and success, without paying sucha heavy price for them; for Kate looked sick, tired, and too earlyold. Then her eye went to the unfinished statue, and she said,impulsively, "I hope you'll put that in marble, and show us whatwe ought to be.""I wish I could!" And an intense desire shone in Rebecca's face, asshe saw her faulty work, and felt how fair her model was.For a minute, the five young women sat silent looking up at thebeautiful, strong figure before them, each longing to see it done,and each unconscious that she was helping, by her individual effortand experience, to bring the day when their noblest ideal ofwomanhood should be embodied in flesh and blood, not clay.The city bells rung one, and Polly started up."I must go, for I promised a neighbor of mine a lesson at two.""I thought this was a holiday," said Fanny."So it is, but this is a little labor of love, and does n't spoil the dayat all. The child has talent, loves music, and needs help. I can'tgive her money, but I can teach her; so I do, and she is the mostpromising pupil I have. Help one another, is part of the religion ofour sisterhood, Fan.""I must put you in a story, Polly. I want a heroine, and you willdo," said Kate."Me! why, there never was such a humdrum, unromantic thing as Iam," cried Polly, amazed."I've booked you, nevertheless, so in you go; but you may add asmuch romance as you like, it's time you did.""I'm ready for it when it comes, but it can't be forced, you know,"and Polly blushed and smiled as if some little spice of thatdelightful thing had stolen into her life, for all its prosaic seeming.Fanny was amused to see that the girls did not kiss at parting, butshook hands in a quiet, friendly fashion, looking at one anotherwith eyes that said more than the most "gushing" words."I like your friends very much, Polly. I was afraid I should findthem mannish and rough, or sentimental and conceited. But theyare simple, sensible creatures, full of talent, and all sorts of finethings. I admire and respect them, and want to go again, if I may.""Oh, Fan, I am so glad! I hoped you'd like them, I knew they'd doyou good, and I'll take you any time, for you stood the test betterthan I expected. Becky asked me to bring you again, and sheseldom does that for fashionable young ladies, let me tell you.""I want to be ever so much better, and I think you and they mightshow me how," said Fanny, with a traitorous tremble in her voice."We'll show you the sunny side of poverty and work, and that is auseful lesson for any one, Miss Mills says," answered Polly,hoping that Fan would learn how much the poor can teach the rich,and what helpful friends girls may be to one another.