"There, you see," said Alexia, beginning to wring her hands. "You'd much better let me shut the door and keep them out, Ben Pepper."
"Polly," said Ben, and he turned her off to a quiet corner, "perhaps they have never seen a Christmas tree. Why, what am I talking about?—we know they haven't."
"Well, they are coming to it to-night," said Polly, the flash dying down a bit, "and that's enough, I'm sure," she added obstinately.
"But the fun of getting ready! Oh, Polly, supposing—supposing somebody had come into the little brown house and asked us to come to help get a tree ready. Just think, Polly!"
Polly dug the toe of her shoe into a heap of greens, then she suddenly threw her arms around Ben's neck. "Oh, I'm a selfish pig, Ben," she cried. "Do let them come in."
Ben gave her an approving pat. "Now you're fine!" he said. "Come on, we'll call them in," taking her hand.
"Oh, now you've gone and made Polly let those dreadful children in," cried Alexia, nervously, envious that she was not to go too, as they ran by her.
"Jasper," said Ben, as they passed his chair, "it's the mountain children; they're waiting outside now. We're going to have them in to help us."
"Whew!" whistled Jasper. Then he added in delight, "The very thing I wanted most of all was to see those mountain children. Do hurry and fetch them."
Which urging was not in the least necessary as soon appeared—Elvira, in her smart blue gown, clear in advance of either Polly or Ben. She pushed her straight locks out of her eyes and gazed around, wholly unabashed.