"The turnip," as you call it, will be empty; "the horse-radish" and "the beets" will be still the same; "the wilted sunflower" will shed its usual ray on our heads. No breeze will disturb us, for there will be no fresh air. We shall have the long evening to ourselves, and you can tell me just how it is that you two, not heavy Tilly, not heavy Beverley, sat on opposite sides of the room and declared to each other:
"I will not."
"I will not."
Since I have broken an engagement for you, be sure not to let any later temptation elsewhere keep you away.
POLLY.
[Later in the day]
BEN DOOLITTLE TO POLLY BOLES
June 13.
DEAR POLLY:
Beverley and Tilly have had the long-expected final flare-up. Yesterday he wrote, asking me to come up as soon as I was through with business. I spent last night with him.