"That isn't fair," said she, with a look of injury, as she held the candle. "Besides, you don't allow it yourself."
"Polly ought to go away to school," said he, after Polly had gone above stairs. "She's a bright girl."
"And I so poor I'm always wondering what'll happen to-morrow," said Mrs. Vaughn. "The farm has a mortgage, and it's more than I can do to pay the interest. Some day I'll have to give it up."
"Perhaps I can help you," said the young man, feeling the fur on his cap.
There was an awkward silence.
"Fact is," said the young man, a bit embarrassed, "fact is, I love
Polly."
In the silence that followed Trove could hear the tick of his watch.
"Have ye spoken to her?" said the widow, with a serious look.
"I've told her frankly to-night that I love her," said he. "I couldn't help it, she was so sweet and beautiful."
"If you couldn't help it, I don't see how I could," said she. "But Polly's only a child. She's a big girl, I know, but she's only eighteen."