But Mamsie--oh, Adela! she made me see it
was wrong; so I had to stop it, you know."
"How is it wrong?" asked Adela, rolling over, and taking the
handkerchief away from one eye enough to see Polly Pepper's face. "I
can cry, I guess, if I want to, without asking anybody."
"Oh, no, you can't," said Polly, decidedly. "I mean no one can."
"Why not, pray tell?" said Adela, sniffing very hard. "My eyes are my
own, and I shall cry, too, whenever I want to."
"Well, I can't just tell you exactly why you can't cry when you want
to," said Polly, afraid she wasn't going to say the right word, "but
Mamsie could if she were here. I'll go and call her, Adela." And Polly
sprang to her feet. "She'll come, I know."
"Oh, no--no," cried Adela, in mortal alarm. "I don't want her--I mean
I'd rather have you. You're a girl; and a woman talking at me scares
me."
"Then you mustn't cry if I stay," said Polly, stopping short, and
seeing her advantage, "for I surely shall go, Adela," she added firmly,
"unless you stop crying."
"O dear me." Adela squirmed all over the bed. "I can't stop--I've
always cried as much as I wanted to. O dear me--boo-hoo-hoo! I mean--I'll
stop, don't go--" sopping up her wet face with a nervous hand. "See,
Pol-_ly_!" for Polly had slipped out of the room. Adela flew
off from the bed. "Polly--Polly, Pol-_ly_!" she called, in a
piteous little tone.
Polly, halfway down the stairs, looked back.
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