"Why so sober, Janet?" she asked, plunging the books on a chair.
"I've a weighty problem to solve," Janet told her. "It is this: How can Polly Perkins provide herself with proper attire for a concert next Friday when she has not a cent to bless herself with? I am wondering how fairy godmothers manage such affairs. Not being possessed of a pumpkin large enough, nor a magic wand, nor six mice and six rats, I can't seem to settle the question satisfactorily. Do you suppose I could count on Mascot to furnish the mice and rats? I might get the pumpkin from home, though, alas, where will I find the magic wand?"
"Who is she going with?" asked Teddy with a little tartness in her tone.
"Mr. Vansant Austin and Miss Thurston."
"Janet, you are the queerest girl I ever saw," exclaimed Teddy. "I believe you would delight in haircloth and hempen ropes around your waist, and crosses with stickers all over them to jam against your chest."
"Do you?" said Janet calmly. "No, Ted, I am not of the stuff martyrs are made of, but I hope I am a self-respecting, decent, kindly American woman; that's all."
And then she returned to the German grammar she had flung down when Polly came in.
[CHAPTER XIII]
WHAT POLLY WORE
BEFORE the next Friday came around, Janet had solved the problem of Polly's attire.