"Oh, Mr. Fabian! Our poor, dear Mr. Dalken!" sobbed Polly, when the speaker had ended his story.
"If I ever meet that horrid woman I shall tear her hair out, I know I shall!" wept Eleanor, vehemently.
"If only we could do something, Nolla, to make up to our dear Dalk, for all his sorrow," sighed Polly, drying her eyes.
"You can love him the more for this story, girls, but do not refer to it, as he is still tender over his loss."
The sad story told the girls, about their friend Mr. Dalken, filled them with love and compassion for the great-hearted man, and they wondered how they could do _something_ for him that would not only show their appreciation of his kindness to them, but at the same time give him pleasure or happiness. But there seemed no material thing that he needed, and really, nothing that one could do for him.
"There must be times when he sits alone brooding over his boy and how different things might have been had he married a different type of woman," remarked Eleanor, one evening, after leaving their new class-room.
"Yes; but it seems to me he should have been able to see through such a shallow thing as that woman must have been, when he returned from college and found her apparently waiting for him," Polly replied.
"But he's so tender-hearted, you see, he couldn't bear to give her any pain or trouble. That must have been the only reason why he allowed her to get him."
"I suppose so. Why, even now, he is an easy prey to the scheming people who know he has barrels of money, and who simply pretend to be friendly for what they can get out of him."
"It's too bad he can't be satisfied with just Mr. Ashby and Mr. Fabian for man friends, and we few women for his women friends," mused Eleanor. "We'd love him for himself."
Polly smiled. "Wouldn't you and I give him a gay time--with high-school keeping us employed every week-day, and art class every other night in the week, to say nothing of lectures, exhibitions, and other things that Mr. Fabian has us do, in line with our work."
The two girls had crossed Madison and Fourth avenues by this time, and were slowly walking down the street towards the Studio. It was a beautiful Fall night, and the moon was almost full, hence they were in no hurry to reach home and go indoors.