Fisher
hurried, while old Mr. King slipped off in the opposite direction.
"How funnily they act," said Polly, looking first after one and then
another, with a puzzled face. "What can it be, Jasper?"
"Oh, well, I suppose they are in a hurry," said Jasper, as carelessly
as he could. "Never mind, Polly, everything is all right. Oh, I say,
let's fix our stamp books."
"But I was going to ask Grandpapa to go out with us, and now he's gone
by himself," and Polly's face grew more puzzled than ever.
"Polly," said Jasper, desperately, "I really think we ought to fix our
stamp books. I really do," and he took her hand. "My stamps are all in
heaps in the envelopes, and in a mess generally. Come, let's begin
now--do." And he led her back down the corridor.
"I suppose so," said Polly, with a reluctant little sigh, as they went
off.
And that afternoon, there was another narrow escape, when it seemed as
if the secret really must pop out. Polly, rushing along to the reading
room opposite the big dining room, saw Mother Fisher in consultation
with the head waiter, and he was saying "cake," and then he stopped
suddenly, and Mrs. Fisher turned and saw her. And Mamsie came across
the hall, and into the reading room, and sat there a bit, while Polly
tossed off a letter to Alexia Rhys, that had been worrying her for
days. And there was a funny little smile tucked away in the corners of
Mother Fisher's mouth, and Polly thought that things were getting
queerer than ever.
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