They had a merry little supper after they got home, and Polly gave
them a burlesque opera that convulsed her hearers, for her spirits
rose again and she was determined to get the last drop of fun
before she went back to her humdrum life again.
"I 've had a regularly splendid time, and thank you ever so much,"
she said when the "good-nights" were being exchanged.
"So have I. Let 's go and do it again to-morrow," said Tom, holding
the hand from which he had helped to pull a refractory glove.
"Not for a long while, please. Too much pleasure would soon spoil
me," answered Polly, shaking her head.
"I don't believe it. Good-night, 'sweet Mistress Milton,' as Syd
called you. Sleep like an angel, and don't dream of I forgot, no
teasing allowed." And Tom took himself off with a theatrical
farewell.
"Now it 's all over and done with," thought Polly as she fell asleep
after a long vigil. But it was not, and Polly's fun cost more than the
price of gloves and bonnet, for, having nibbled at forbidden fruit,
she had to pay the penalty.
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