“I have heard people say he is, and I think him great!”
Eleanor chuckled. This was a scene after her own heart.
“Is he old—or ugly, Tom?” added Polly.
“No—he is young, and not very bad-looking.”
Polly thought seriously, then said: “Does he live in New York?”
“I won’t answer any more such questions, Polly, it isn’t fair unless you do your part,” laughed Tom.
“Oh, well, then, please excuse me for ever mentioning you in the same breath with Winnie,” giggled Polly. “Now tell me who sent those roses.”
“I will, Polly, but not to-day. I did not promise to tell you, at once—so I will wait until after John’s wedding.”
Polly stamped her foot as Tom hurried away, and Eleanor laughed merrily at the hoax. But there was too much going on all about them, to bother, now, about roses that were almost two years old.
Mr. Maynard arrived from Chicago in time for the quiet little wedding at “The Church around the Corner,” and then everyone went to the Studio for a reception. John and his bride left for a very short honeymoon, and later, all thoughts centered on Polly and Eleanor. It would be their turn to say good-by in a few days.