"When was it?" put in Miss Sterling.
"This noon. Mother did finally persuade him to stay to dinner—he wasn't going to! I don't see why he was in such a hurry to get away! Oh, I shall miss that boy awfully! He is always just so—never cross or pouty, or anything. Sometimes he has been pretty blue—I suppose thinking of his father and wondering why he didn't come. It has been almost two years! It won't seem a bit natural without Chris. I shall have to come over here and bother you more than ever." Polly sighed a bit sorrowfully and dropped on a hassock at Miss Sterling's feet.
"You know you couldn't come too often, my dear."
"I feel sometimes as if I were a nuisance," laughed Polly. "I guess Miss Sniffen thinks so. She looks at me so queer when she meets me in the hall."
"It is only her way. She can't have anything against you."
Polly shook her head doubtfully; then she smiled. "I did kind of pacify her the other night when we were late from our walk, didn't I? I was afraid I couldn't, but I wasn't going to let her know it!"
"It was funny the way she came round," Miss Sterling agreed.
"That makes me think," Polly broke out, "when are we going to have another walk?"
"I—don't—know," sighed the other. "Walking is such an effort! I get so tired I can't sleep."
"That's too bad!" mourned Polly. "But don't you think it's because you stay in the house so much? If you went oftener maybe you'd get used to it and it wouldn't tire you."