They all laughed at me as if I had said something foolish.
It was evident that I should never get rid of Madame Tomaso. She would come year after year, forever and ever, until I and the twins were quite grown up. The twins were little and easily frightened. She would make them cry. I knew that she would. Sometimes, although I was such a big girl, she almost made me cry, when she beat time and shouted, for she was beginning to shout. And that last scene, though I had been victorious, had rankled. I felt that my mother would be highly indignant if I told her, but somehow I could not tell her. There did not seem to be any way out. I looked at the piano cover, and thought and thought.
"Granddad," I inquired next day, "what became of Polly?"
"Oh, Polly left," he answered.
"Right away, granddad?" I demanded, eagerly.
"Just as soon as she could get her trunk packed. Why?"
I rubbed my head against his shoulder without replying.
He did not ask any more questions, but he looked at me, keenly. He slipped his hand under my chin, and forced me to meet his eyes. I could never hide my thoughts from anybody. And granddad was always so horribly sharp! He chuckled a little as he gazed at me. When he went away he made me draw largely on the bank, and he patted me on the head.
"Keep up your courage," he whispered. "You're game!"
Out in the hall I heard him ask my mother a sudden question.