"
"I would," said Tom, coolly, running his hands in his pockets. "I tell
you, you don't know my granddaddy. He's got lots of fun in him," he
added.
"Phronsie," said Jasper, rushing around the table, "you are making
Polly sick. Just look at her face."
Phronsie lifted her head where she had burrowed it under Polly's arm.
When she saw that Polly's round cheeks were really quite pale, she
stopped crying at once. "Are you sick, Polly?" she asked, in great
concern.
"I sha'n't be," said Polly, "if you won't cry any more, Phronsie."
"I won't cry any more," declared Phronsie, wiping off the last tear
trailing down her nose. "Then you will be all well, Polly?"
"Then I shall be all as well as ever," said Polly, kissing the wet
little face.
When they got ready to begin on the letter again, it was nowhere to be
found, and Tom had disappeared as well.
"He took it out," said Adela, for the first time finding her tongue. "I
saw him while you were all talking."
While they were wondering over this and were plunged further yet in
dismay, Tom came dancing in, waving the unlucky sheet of the Round
Robin over his head. "My mother says," he announced in triumph, "that
father will get no end of fun over that if you let it go. It will cheer
him up."
So that ended the matter, although Polly, who dearly loved to be
elegant, had many a twinge whenever her eye fell on the letter at which
Phronsie was now labouring afresh.
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