"I don't care what she says. Polly, he is not engaged lo her."
"He isn't? Oh, I am so glad, I don't know what to do! I didn't want him to be engaged one bit!"
"I didn't say he wasn't engaged," returned the other demurely. "I only said he was not engaged to Miss Puddicombe."
Polly's face fell. "Oh, dear!" she cried in a vexed tone, "I never thought of his being engaged to anybody else! Who is it?—I don't know that I care, but I may as well know!" Polly looked cross.
Miss Sterling laughed softly. "What a little fire-box you are!" she said.
"Oh, yes, laugh!" pouted Polly. "Of course, you don't care, because you don't like him as I do; but I think it is mean for him to be engaged—just when I was so glad he wasn't! You haven't told me who it is yet—anybody I know?"
"Yes."
"Somebody here in town, then?"
"Yes, right here."
"I don't see who it can be. I never saw him riding with anybody but Blanche Puddicombe. Why don't you tell me?" cried Polly impatiently.