“I remember how you stood by me while it was sewed up; that was very plucky, Polly.”
“I was dreadfully afraid, but I remember I wanted to seem very brave, because you'd called me a coward.”
“Did I? Ought to have been ashamed of myself. I used to rough you shamefully, Polly, and you were so good-natured, you let me do it.”
“Could n't help myself,” laughed Polly. “I did use to think you were an awful boy, but seems to me I rather liked it.”
“She had so much of it at home, she got used to it,” put in Will, pulling the little curl behind Polly's ear.
“You boys never teased me as Tom did, that's the reason it amused me, I suppose; novelty hath charms, you know.”
“Grandma used to lecture Tom for plaguing you, Polly, and he used to say he'd be a tip-top boy, but he was n't,” observed Maud, with a venerable air.
“Dear old grandma; she did her best, but I'm a bad lot,” said Tom, with a shake of the head and a sober face.
“It always seems as if she must be up in her rooms, and I can't get used to finding them empty,” added Polly, softly.
“Father would n't have anything moved, and Tom sits up there sometimes; it makes him feel good, he says,” said Maud, who had a talent for betraying trifles which people preferred should not be mentioned in public.