"Oh, he's the dearest kitty!" cried Vivian, "blow another bubble, Polly, and blow it right at him."
Laughing at the thought of surprising Sir Mortimer, Polly blew a fine bubble, and swung it toward him.
He blinked at it, as it came nearer, and then,—oh, how they laughed, he began to back away from it.
It overtook him, however, and landed squarely on his upturned nose.
He sneezed in disgust, and rubbed his nose violently with his paw.
"Oh, Mortimer darling, I won't do it again. If you don't like soap bubbles, you needn't have them," said Polly, picking him up, and caressing him.
It was evident that he forgave her, for he at once commenced to purr.
When Vivian said that she must go, Polly walked part of the way with her for company.
"Are you truly going to visit Rose Atherton, soon? Inez Varney said you were," said Vivian.
"Oh, yes," Polly replied, "I have the invitation, and I'm to go the first week mama will let me. I may go next week. When I KNOW what day I can go, I'm to write, and tell Rose, and Rose, with her Aunt, will call for me at the station."