Polly stepped on Alan's toe, under cover of the robe, and was met by an answering flash from the gray eyes, but neither spoke, as Jessie continued,—"You do so many more things here, and have so much better times, you girls, that Kit and I both wish papa and mamma would come back here to live. Omaha is pleasant enough, and the river is lovely,—when it isn't muddy; but I shall miss these hills and the elms and the lazy look of the old town. I like old things best. And what do you suppose I shall miss, most of all?"
"Job" and "Aunt Jane," suggested Alan and Polly, in a breath.
"You're too bad to laugh at me." And Jessie tried to pout, but it was too hard work, so she gave up the attempt and laughed instead. "No, it's the garret at your house, Alan, with all the old spinning wheels and warming pans. Some day, when I get my cats, I'll come back here to live, see if I don't." And Jessie nodded with decision as she started up Cob once more.
"Oh, dear! Next year doesn't mean much fun for me," groaned Polly. "I shall have to begin Latin and Greek and all sorts of dreadful things, so as to get ready for college."
"Then you are really going," said Jessie. "What makes you do it, if you don't want to?"
"It's been the family plan ever since I was a baby," said Polly; "and there's no use in trying to change it. Besides, I don't think I mind it much, or shan't when I once get there. I want to know a few things when. I'm grown up, even if I'm not a lawyer or a doctor,—but I'm going to leave that for Alan,"
"Don't worry about that, Polly," said Alan. "At present rate of progress, if I lose a month or two of school every winter, I shouldn't get through college till long after you were dead and out of the way. And then, I don't think I want to be a doctor, anyway."
"Now, Alan," retorted Polly; "that's not quite fair of you, when you know how my heart is set on having you. a splendid doctor, and in time taking papa's place. I've told you, time and time again, that if I had a brother, he would have to be one; and, as long as I haven't, you're the next best thing. You'd make such a splendid one, too. I know, for I asked papa if you wouldn't, and he said yes. He said—" Polly came to a sudden pause.
"Said what, Poll? Out with it."
"I wasn't going to tell, for fear 'twould make you conceited," returned Polly; "but if I thought it would make any difference with your plans, I'd run the risk, only you must be really in earnest about it, Alan, and think it all over. He said you had just the character that goes to make a good doctor, brave and true and unselfish, and always gentle and calm and jolly. Now doesn't that make you want to be something grand?" And Polly turned to look at the boy, with all her earnestness, all her love for him lighting her face and beautifying it, in spite of the brown freckles on her cheeks.