Polly, however, was always quicker than Dick, and she said, "Is Tom really going to London, mother?"
"Of course I am; didn't I tell you so last week?"
"But you didn't know it last week," retorted his sister; "the letter has only just come, so how could you know it last week?"
"Hold your tongue, and let me think for a minute how I am going to manage," said her mother. "Uncle George says he wants you to go next week, but I am not sure that I can get your things ready, Tom," she said, in a tone of perplexity.
"Oh, mother, you must," replied the boy. "I don't want much; boys don't want a lot of new frocks, like girls."
"But they wear out their shirts too fast," put in Polly.
"Yes, you must sit down to your sewing at once, Polly, and finish that shirt you are making for Tom. And I shall have to clear up my washing as quick as I can and come and see after his other things, for there is no time to spare if he is to go away next week; and I suppose he must if this place Uncle George has got for him is vacant."
"Oh, yes, mother, I must go, of course," said Tom imperatively.
"I shall be obliged to have a lot of new things, I expect," he said confidentially to his sister, as he went back to the comfortable kitchen, where she had begun to set the tea things in readiness for her father's return.
"Yes, I suppose you will have heaps of new things; but father don't seem to think Dick ever wants anything," said Polly in a resentful tone.