"Go away! How dare you?" cried Polly, growing much redder than
her rose.
"If we are going to the opera to-night, perhaps we 'd better start, as
the carriage has been waiting some time," observed Fan coolly,
and sailed out of the room in an unusually lofty manner.
"Don't you like it, Polly?" whispered Tom, as they went down
stairs together.
"Very much."
"The deuce you do!"
"I 'm so fond of music, how can I help it?
"I 'm talking about Syd."
"Well, I 'm not."
"You 'd better try for him."
"I 'll think of it."
"Oh, Polly, Polly, what are you coming to?"
"A tumble into the street, apparently," answered Polly as she
slipped a little on the step, and Tom stopped in the middle of his
laugh to pilot her safely into the carriage, where Fanny was already
seated.
"Here 's richness!" said Polly to herself as she rolled away, feeling
as Cinderella probably did when the pumpkin-coach bore her to
the first ball, only Polly had two princes to think about, and poor
Cinderella, on that occasion, had not even one.
Pages:
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346