"Polly," called Jasper's voice, out in the hall.

For the first time in her life, she felt like running away from his call. "Oh! I can't go out; he'll guess something is the matter," she cried to herself.

"Polly?" and there was a rap at the door.

"Yes," said Polly from within.

"Can I see you a minute?"

Polly slowly opened the door, and tried to lift her brown eyes to his face.

"Oh, Polly," he pretended not to notice any thing amiss with her, "I came to tell you first; and you can help me to break it to father."

"Oh, what is it?" cried Polly, looking up quickly. "Oh, Jasper," as she saw that his face was drawn with the effort not to let her see the distress he was in.

He tried to cover up his anxiety, but she saw a yellow paper in his hand. "Oh, Jasper, you've a telegram," she cried breathlessly.

"Polly," said Jasper. He took her hand and held it firmly, "you will help father and me to bear it, I know."

"Oh, Jasper, I will," promised Polly, clinging to his hand. "Don't be afraid to tell me, Jasper."

"Listen; Marian has been thrown from her sleigh this morning; the horses ran," said Jasper hurriedly. "The telegram says 'Come.' She may be living, Polly; don't look so."

For the room grew suddenly so dark to her that she wavered and would have fallen had he not caught her. "I won't faint," she cried, "Jasper, don't be afraid. There, I'm all right. Now, oh, what can I do?"

"Could you go with me when I tell father?" asked Jasp