CHAPTER X.

_TELLING FATHER._

THAT night, Pollie's mother went to bed early, and after her father had finished his work, he came in and settled down by the fire.

How different Pollie felt now that she was what her father called "a right down good girl."

Jim was upstairs reading to their mother, so she took her knitting and sat thinking of Miss Loveday.

Suddenly she looked up.

"Father!" she exclaimed.

"Well?" he asked.

"Father! Isn't it Devonshire where grandmother lives?"

"Why surely!" said father, smiling. "What's made you think of that?"

"I was wondering who you knew there."

"Why do you ask?"

"Father—" Pollie paused. "I don't want to tell anything I ought not, but I have somebody's secret that makes me very sad, and I wanted to know if you knew somebody there very particularly. But I can trust you, father."

"You may, my dear; and if I can do anybody any good, you can tell me."

"Do you know anybody of the name of Harry Fulbert, father?"

"Devonshire's a large place, but I do happen to know some one of that name there too."

"Do you, father?" asked Pollie, with her heart beating fast.

"And the funny thing is I know two of 'em, Pollie, as far asunder as the poles though they are."

"Two of them! How?"

"First cousins of the same name. A stupid thing, as I take it, to name 'em alike, but they do tell that neither of the sisters knew what the other was doing till they were named, and then 'twas no use cryin' over spilt milk! One of 'em is as good as gold, and the other, sad to say, is not worth a brass farthin'!"

"Where does the good one live, father?" asked Pollie, almost breathlessly.

"His 'mother' lives at Exeter. He comes home to see her now and again, but I believe he lives in foreign parts somewhere."

"And the bad one, father?" Pollie's voice was almost faint with anxiety. Which was the one who was a friend to her dear Miss Loveday?

"The other knocks about everywhere. He has plenty of money, and travels a great deal, but I would be sorry for any one 'I' loved to have much to do with him. Why do you ask me, Pollie?"

"Father, I hope—oh, I hope I am not wrong to tell you, but could you find out for me? It is Miss Loveday, father; and he has gone out to China to-day, and Miss Loveday is so sad because—." And then Pollie told her father as much as she knew herself, and begged him to help her find out all about it.

"I told her I would pray, and I have. But I never guessed the answer might come so soon, nor that perhaps I might bring it to Miss Loveday. Oh, father, do you think God will let me?"

"That I can't tell, my dear, but this I do know, it says, 'Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him, and He will bring it to pass.'"

Pollie could hardly sleep that night for thinking of what she ought to do about Miss Loveday. Her father had advised her to "commit her way unto the Lord," and she did, but what was the next step?

Dare she go to the vicar and ask him if there were some mistake? Would he tell her she was an impertinent girl?

If it were "right" to go, she would dare even that. But "was" it right? What if Miss Loveday's friend should not turn out to be the true gold?

So she tossed till morning, and no light came. She got up early and busied herself in her duties at the mill, but still no light came.

Her mother was not very well, and Pollie had all the cooking to do, and the bread to make. Her father was off early to the market with his sacks of flour, and would not be in till afternoon. She thought and thought, but could come to no decision.

At last, just as she had washed up the dinner-plates, and was going up to fetch her mother to the tidy kitchen, a thought came which comforted her: "'Trust also in Him; and He will bring it to pass!'"

"I've been worrying and not trusting," she said to herself.

And when she had placed her mother comfortably, and brought her workbasket, she went into her little room and knelt down in silence by the bedside.

Then she took her knitting, and sat down on the doorstep to watch for her father.

Before long, she saw a girl making her way up the steep hill, and as she came nearer, she found it was one of the maids from the vicarage.

Her heart beat fast, and she jumped up and stood waiting, hardly liking to run and meet her; and yet—

"Pollie!" said the maid eagerly. "My Miss Mary is very poorly, and she wants to see you, and I was coming all the morning, but I was too busy. Can you run down to see her now?"

So, in less than half an hour, Pollie stood at her bedside, finding it difficult to repress her eagerness. Miss Loveday put out her hand and drew her down to kiss her, and began at once—

"Pollie, I wanted to tell you—Yesterday I thought it was harder than I could bear. I felt forsaken, as if I never could get over it. But to-day—"

"To-day?" echoed Pollie, with her heart in her eyes. "Has it come right? Oh, Miss Loveday!"

"Right so far as this," answered her teacher gently, "that I have trusted it all to my Lord, and left it with Him to do as He likes."

Pollie's lips parted to speak, but the heavenly look in Miss Loveday's face stopped her. She knelt down by the bed, and covered her friend's little white hand with kisses.

"Dear Miss Loveday, I may pray that it may all come right, mayn't I?"

"Oh, yes, dear but—indeed I want to do His will—not mine."

Pollie was silent. How could she break her news? And yet all the way down the hill, she had been sure that it would be right for her to tell Miss Loveday herself all about it.

"Father knows Devonshire," she said very softly; "he knows people there."

"Does he, dear? Why do you tell me that?" asked Miss Loveday, looking at her.

"Father said he knew two people called that name. I thought you would not mind, because father is perfectly safe, and he was so sorry."

And then Pollie told her all she had heard, and Miss Loveday's pale face brightened into a flush of hope.

"I know he's the golden gold!" she whispered. "And God has sent you, Pollie, to show my uncle that there is some mistake. Oh, I am so glad that I wanted God's will better than my own, for He gives abundantly, Pollie!"

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