Polly soon lured her out again, by assurances that she would n't be utterly despoiled, and promises to try and soften the hard hearts of her father's creditors, if the ear-rings and the smelling-bottle were attached.
“I wonder if we shall be able to keep one servant, just till we learn how to do the work,” said Fanny, looking at her white hands, with a sigh.
But Maud clapped hers, and gave a joyful bounce, as she cried, “Now I can learn to cook! I love so to beat eggs! I'll have an apron, with a bib to it, like Polly's, and a feather duster, and sweep the stairs, maybe, with my head tied up, like Katy. Oh, what fun!”
“Don't laugh at her, or discourage her; let her find comfort in bibs and dust-pans, if she can,” whispered Polly to Fan, while Maud took a joyful “header” among the pillows, and came up smiling and blowzy, for she loved house-work, and often got lectured for stolen visits to the kitchen, and surreptitious sweepings and dustings when the coast was clear.
“Mamma is so feeble, I shall have to keep house, I suppose, and you must show me how, Polly,” said Fan.
“Good practice, ma'am, as you'll find out some day,” answered Polly, laughing significantly.
Fanny smiled, then grew both grave and sad. “This changes everything; the old set will drop me, as we did the Mertons when their father failed, and my'prospects,' as we say, are quite ruined.”
“I don't believe it; your real friends won't drop you, and you'll find out which the true ones are now. I know one friend who will be kinder than ever.”
“Oh, Polly, do you think so?” and Fanny's eyes softened with sudden tears.
“I know who she means,” cried Maud, always eager to find out things. “It 's herself; Polly won't mind if we are poor, 'cause she likes beggars.”