what _he_ wanted, but thought it might be selfish to urge it. "Have
you tried to soften your aunt's heart?" he asked, after a moment's
meditation.

"Good gracious, Van, she hasn't got any," cried Polly, who firmly
believed it.

"It's hossified," thoughtfully remarked Toady, quite unconscious of
any approach to a joke till every one giggled.

"You've had hossification enough for one while, my lad," laughed Van.
"Well, Polly, if the old lady has no heart you'd better let her go,
for people without hearts are not worth much."

"That's a beautiful remark, Van, and a wise one. I just wish she could
hear you make it, for she called you a fool," said Polly, irefully.

"Did she? Well, I don't mind, I'm used to it," returned Van, placidly;
and so he was, for Polly called him a goose every day of her life, and
he enjoyed it immensely.

"Then you think, dear, if we stopped worrying about aunt and her
money, and worked instead of waiting, that we shouldn't be any poorer
and might be a great deal happier than we are now?" asked Polly,
making a pretty little tableau as she put her hand through Van's arm
and looked up at him with as much love, respect, and reliance as if he
had been six feet tall, with the face of an Apollo and the manners of
a Chesterfield.

"Yes, my dear, I do, for it has troubled me a good deal to see you so