I thought she was at one time--Black Tea

"So have I. Let's go and do it again to-morrow," said Tom, holding the hand from which he had helped to pull a refractory glove.
"Not for a long while, please. Too much pleasure would soon spoil me," answered Polly, shaking her head.
"I don't believe it. Good-night,'sweet Mistress Milton,' as Syd called you. Sleep like an angel, and don't dream of I forgot, no teasing allowed." And Tom took himself off with a theatrical farewell.
"Now it's all over and done with," thought Polly as she fell asleep after a long vigil. But it was not, and Polly's fun cost more than the price of gloves and bonnet, for, having nibbled at forbidden fruit, she had to pay the penalty. She only meant to have a good time, and there was no harm in that, but unfortunately she yielded to the various small temptations that beset pretty young girls and did more mischief to others than to herself. Fanny's friendship grew cooler after that night. Tom kept wishing Trix was half as satisfactory as Polly, and Mr. Sydney began to build castles that had no foundation.
"I'VE won the wager, Tom."
"Didn't know there was one."
"Don't you remember you said Polly would be tired of her teaching and give it up in three months, and I said she wouldn't?"
"Well, isn't she?"
"Not a bit of it. I thought she was at one time, and expected every day to have her come in with a long face, and say she couldn't stand it. But somehow, lately, she is always bright and happy, seems to like her work, and don't have the tired, worried look she used to at first. The three months are out, so pay up, Tommy."
"All right, what will you have?"
"You may make it gloves. I always need them, and papa looks sober when I want money."
There was a minute's pause as Fan returned to her practising, and Tom relapsed into the reverie he was enjoying seated astride of a chair, with his chin on his folded arms.
"Seems to me Polly don't come here as often as she used to," he said, presently.
"No, she seems to be very busy; got some new friends, I believe, old ladies, sewing-girls, and things of that sort. I miss her, but know she'll get tired of being goody, and will come back to me before long."
"Don't be too sure of that, ma'am." Something in Tom's tone made Fan turn round, and ask, "What do you mean?"
"Well, it strikes me that Sydney is one of Polly's new friends. Haven't you observed that she is uncommonly jolly, and don't that sort of thing account for it?"
"Nonsense!" said Fanny, sharply.
"Hope it is," coolly returned Tom.