“Why not? A good idea! The great A. will be held in Miss Singleton’s room, from eight to ten o’clock on the evening of Monday next. Great Bargains! Enormous Sacrifice! Things absolutely given away! Oh, what fun! I’ll be my own auctioneer.”
Polly lay back in her armchair, and laughed loudly.
“What is all this noise about?” asked a refined little voice, and Rosalind Merton entered the room.
Two or three girls jumped up at once to greet her.
“Come in, Rosie; you’re just in time. What do you think Miss Singleton is going to do now?”
“I can’t tell; what?” asked Rosalind. “Something outré, I feel certain.”
Polly made a wry face, and winked her eyes at her companions.
“I know I’m not refined enough for you, Miss Merton,” she drawled. “I’m rough, like my dad, rough and ready; but, at any rate, I’m honest—at least, I think I’m honest. When I owe money, I don’t leave a stone unturned to pay what I owe. Having sinned, I repent. I enter the Valley of Humiliation, and give up all: who can do more?”
“Oh, dear, Polly, I don’t think I’d call owing a little money, sinning,” said Lucy Marsh, whose ideas were known to be somewhat lax.
“Well, my dear, there’s nothing for those in debt but to sell their possessions. My auction is on Monday. Will you come, Rosalind?”