Polly had run on in her lively way, not because she thought her adventures amounted to much, but from a wish to cheer up her friends, who had struck her as looking rather dull and out of sorts, especially Mr. Shaw; and when she saw him lean back in his chair with the old hearty laugh, she was satisfied, and blessed the unlucky pie for amusing him.
“Oh, Polly, you do tell such interesting things!” sighed Maud, wiping her eyes.
“I wish I'd met you, I'd have given you three cheers and a tiger, for it must have been an imposing spectacle,” said Tom.
“No, you would n't; you'd have whisked round the corner when you saw me coming or have stared straight before you, utterly unconscious of the young woman in the baggage wagon.”
Polly laughed in his face just as she used to do, when she said that, and, in spite of the doubt cast upon his courtesy, Tom rather liked it, though he had nothing to say for himself but a reproachful, “Now, Polly, that's too bad.”
“True, nevertheless. You must come and see my pets, Maud, for my cat and bird live together as happily as brother and sister,” said Polly, turning to Maud, who devoured every word she said.
“That's not saying much for them,” muttered Tom, feeling that Polly ought to address more of her conversation to him.
“Polly knows what she's talking about; her brothers appreciate their sisters,” observed Fanny, in her sharp tone.
“And Polly appreciates her brothers, don't forget to add that, ma'am,” answered Tom.
“Did I tell you that Will was going to college?” broke in Polly, to avert the rising storm.