“I can put them in my pocket if I feel too much dressed,” said Polly as she snapped on the bracelets, but after a wave or two of the fan she felt that it would be impossible to take them off till the evening was over, so enticing was their glitter.
Fanny also lent her a pair of three-button gloves, which completed her content, and when Tom greeted her with an approving, “Here's a sight for gods and men! Why, Polly, you're gorgeous!” she felt that her “fun” had decidedly begun.
“Would n't Polly make a lovely bride?” said Maud, who was revolving about the two girls, trying to decide whether she would have a blue or a white cloak when she grew up and went to operas.
“Faith, and she would! Allow me to congratulate you, Mrs. Sydney,” added Tom, advancing with his wedding-reception bow and a wicked look at Fanny.
“Go away! How dare you?” cried Polly, growing much redder than her rose.
“If we are going to the opera to-night, perhaps we'd better start, as the carriage has been waiting some time,” observed Fan coolly, and sailed out of the room in an unusually lofty manner.
“Don't you like it, Polly?” whispered Tom, as they went down stairs together.
“Very much.”
“The deuce you do!”
“I'm so fond of music, how can I help it?