"And all the splendid times at Badgertown and the
little brown--"
Just then a long hand came in between the people in the seat back of
them. "I'm no end glad to see you!" exclaimed a voice. It was Tom
Selwyn.
"I'm going over into that vacant seat." Tom forgot his fear of Polly
and his hatred of girls generally, and rushed around the aisle to
plunge awkwardly into the seat just back of Jasper. "I'll stay here
till the person comes." His long arms came in contact with several
obstacles, such as sundry backs and shoulders in his progress, but he
had no time to consider such small things or to notice the black looks
he got in consequence.
"Now, isn't this jolly!" he exclaimed. Jasper was guilty of staring at
him; there seemed such a change in the boy, he could hardly believe it
was really and truly Tom Selwyn.
"My grandfather is well now, and he would have sent some message to you
if he knew I was to run across you," went on Tom, looking at Jasper,
but meaning Polly; "did you get a little trifle he sent you some weeks
ago? He's been in a funk about it because he didn't hear."
Wasn't Polly glad that her little note was on the way, and perhaps in
the old gentleman's hands at this very time!
"Yes," she said, "and he was very kind and--" Tom fumbled his tickets
all the while, and broke in abruptly.
"I didn't know as you'd like it, but it made him sick not to do it, and
so the thing went.
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