"Never mind; I am glad to see you, anyway. And these are your young friends, I suppose. Wouldn't you all like to stay and have dinner here? It is almost ready," she added, in a generous burst of hospitality.
"Thank you, we should be delighted," said Alan hastily, fearing
Polly might lose the opportunity by politely hesitating.
"Well, Polly Adams, where in the name of time did you come from?" asked Miss Bean's voice behind her.
Polly turned around. Could this be Miss Bean, this little, withered figure in the calico gown and white cap? Where was the green and black gown? Where were the lace mitts and the shaker bonnet? However, there could be no doubt of Miss Bean's identity when she said, in her usual abrupt manner,—
"How's your ma? And who are these children?"
"This is Alan Hapgood," replied Polly, introducing her friends; "and this is Jessie Shepard."
"You don't say so! Henry and Kate Shepard's daughter, from out in
Omaha?"
"Yes."
Miss Bean completed Jessie's embarrassment by critically scrutinizing her from head to foot, then asking suddenly,—
"Do they dress much out in. Omaha?"