“Of course I did.  Good gracious, Polly! there are other ways of losing money than by dropping it in the road.  I believe girls don’t know anything more about the world than the geography tells them,—­that it’s a round globe like a ball or an orange!”

“Don’t be impolite.  The less they know about the old world the better they get on, I dare say.  Your colossal fund of worldly knowledge does n’t seem to make you very happy, just now.  How could you lose your money, I ask?  You ’re nothing but a student, and you are not in any business, are you?”

“Yes, I am in business, and pretty bad business it is, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I ’ve been winding myself up into a hard knot, the last six months, and the more I try to disentangle myself, the worse the thing gets.  My allowance is n’t half enough; nobody but a miser could live on it.  I ’ve been unlucky, too.  I bought a dog, and some one poisoned him before I could sell him; then I lamed a horse from the livery-stable, and had to pay damages; and so it went.  The fellows all kept lending me money, rather than let me stay out of the little club suppers, and since I ’ve shut down on expensive gayeties they’ve gone back on me, and all want their money at once; so does the livery-stable keeper, and the owner of the dog, and a dozen other individuals; in fact, the debtors’ prison yawns before me.”

“Upon my word, I ’m ashamed of you!” said Polly, with considerable heat.  “To waste money in that way, when you knew perfectly well you could n’t afford it, was—­well, it was downright dishonest, that’s what it was!  To hear you talk about dogs, and lame horses, and club suppers, anybody would suppose you were a sporting man!  Pray, what else do they do in that charming college set of yours?”

“I might have known you would take that tone, but I did n’t, somehow.  I told you just because I thought you were the one girl in a thousand who would understand and advise a fellow when he knows he’s made a fool of himself and acted like a cur!  I did n’t suppose you would call hard names, and be so unsympathizing, after all we have gone through together!”

“I ’m not!—­I did n’t!—­I won’t do it again!” said Polly incoherently, as she took a straight chair, planted her elbows on the table, and leaned her chin in her two palms.  “Now let’s talk about it; tell me everything quickly.  How much is it?”

“Nearly two hundred dollars!  Don’t shudder so provokingly, Polly; that ’s a mere bagatelle for a college man, but I know it’s a good deal for me,—­a good deal more than I know how to get, at all events.”

“Where is the debtors’ prison?” asked Polly in an awestruck whisper.