"Hush!" begged Polly, with a warning pinch.
"And just think of her going out to see Mrs. Whitney! Come on, Polly, I know the way to the back door," and she seized Polly's arm.
But Polly got away, and carried the shawl down to Miss Barnard and laid it over the wiry little shoulders; and at last the front door was opened.
"My dear Mrs. Whitney," exclaimed the little maiden lady, skipping out to the carriage step, and holding out both hands, "you don't know how very glad I am to see you here; now do get out and have tea with Miss Rhys and me."
"Oh, it is quite impossible, Miss Barnard," said Mrs. Whitney, "thank you. Now, girlies," with a smile over the little maiden lady's head to Polly and Alexia, "step in, both of you, for we must hurry home."
"O dear, I am so sorry," cried Miss Barnard, as the girls rushed to obey; then she gave a little cackle, intended to be very winning, "perhaps some time you will come, my dear Mrs. Whitney, I should so admire to have you—hee-hee."
"How Aunt can—" began Alexia, as the good-bys were said and the carriage door slammed and away they went. "Polly Pepper, I've just killed your foot, I know, but I couldn't help stepping all over you, for that dreadful woman fluttered me so. O dear, and I haven't said anything to Mrs. Whitney," and Alexia could feel her sallow cheek grow hot and red.
"I'll forgive you," said Mrs. Whitney, with a little laugh.
"And how Aunt can take up with her," finished Alexia in vexation, "O dear me, I can't see."
"She has some good qualities," said Mrs. Whitney, kindly; "we must remember that."