Why, he would rather have lost the money ten times over!
To divert his mind, he began next morning to make an inventory of the
goods in the store. It was high time, too: thanks to the recent
disturbances he did not know where he stood. And while he was about it,
he gave the place a general clean-up. A job of this kind was a powerful
ally in keeping edged thoughts at bay. He and his men had their hands
full for several days, Polly, who was not allowed to set foot in the
store, peeping critically in at them to see how they progressed. And,
after business hours, there was little Polly herself.
He loved to contemplate her.
Six months of married life had worked certain changes in his black-eyed
slip of a girl; but something of the doe-like shyness that had caught
his fancy still clung to her. With strangers she could even yet be
touchingly bashful. Not long out of short frocks, she found it difficult
to stand upon her dignity as Mrs. Dr. Mahony. Besides, it was second
nature to Polly to efface herself, to steal mousily away. Unless, of
course, some one needed help or was in distress, in which case she
forgot to be shy. To her husband's habits and idiosyncrasies she had
adapted herself implicitly--but this came easy; for she was sure
everything Richard did was right, and that his way of looking at things
was the one and only way. So there was no room for discord between them.
By this time Polly could laugh over the dismay of her first homecoming:
the pitch-dark night and unfamiliar road, the racket of the serenade,
the apparition of the great spider: now, all this might have happened to
somebody else, not Polly Mahony.
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