“No, dear, he doesn’t,” she confessed. “You see, I have never been able to bring myself to the point of telling him. You see, he was in Chicago when I met with my accident, and he had just written me of his engagement to such a dear girl. He was so happy, and if he had known about me, it would have spoiled everything. Tom is such a sweet, unselfish boy. Nothing in the world would have kept him away from me. He would have given up his position, where he was doing so well, and come home to take care of me. I couldn’t let him do that, now, could I? Of course, he had to be told of the accident, but I wouldn’t let any one write him how serious it was, and when I left the hospital, and was able to write myself, he thought I was quite well again. I meant to tell him later, but somehow the right time never seemed to come. Tom and Helen are married now, and have a baby, a dear little girl, whom they have named for me. I was so happy when that news came that I cried--wasn’t I silly?” “But doesn’t your brother ever come to see you?” Dulcie asked. “He would if he could, dear, but he can’t leave his business very well, and besides, it costs a good deal to come all the way from Chicago to New York and back. He sends me presents, though, such beautiful presents, and last summer, after the baby came, he and Helen wanted me to come and make them a long visit. He offered to pay all my expenses, and Helen wrote me such a cordial invitation. Of course, I couldn’t go, and I had to pretend that I was too busy to leave New York. You see, Tom thinks I am still giving music lessons, as I did before my accident.” “But that isn’t true,” objected Daisy, looking rather shocked. A shadow crossed Miss Polly’s bright face. “I know it, dear,” she said, with a sigh, “and that’s the hardest part of it all. My father was a minister, and Tom and I were brought up always to speak the truth. It worries me a great deal to have to deceive Tom as I do, but even that seems better than being a burden to him, as I should be if he knew the truth. He had such a hard struggle at first, but he is doing splendidly now, and he and Helen are so ideally happy. They have just bought a little house on the Lake Shore, in one of the prettiest suburbs of Chicago. Tom sent me a photograph of it, with Helen and the baby on the porch. They say there’s a dear little room for me, whenever I can spare the time to make them a visit. They little know what a troublesome visitor I should be.” Miss Polly’s bright voice broke suddenly, and her sentence ended in a sigh. “I don’t believe you would be a troublesome visitor at all,” said Daisy, laying a kind little hand on Miss Polly’s knee. “I think they would just love having you; don’t you, Dulcie?” “Yes,” agreed Dulcie, “I’m perfectly sure of it. But, Miss Polly, would you mind telling us what you write about every week, and how you keep your brother from finding out?”