"Oh, ma'am," Polly looked up into the impatient face, and everything she had intended to say flew right out of her mind, for the white puffs seemed to stand right out like mountains, and the Roman nose was so very dreadful. "My brother," was all she could manage to say.
"Hey?" The stately old woman laid down a doll and glared at her. "My brother," began Polly, wishing that she was back with the others. If only she could catch a glimpse of Ben, but the intervening crowd surged in waves between her and the spot where she had left them, so that they were swallowed up. Meantime there was that dreadful old woman, with her cold, sharp eyes just like gimlets boring her through and through, and waiting for her to finish what she had to say.
"My brother," began Polly, faintly, and her head dropped, "said something naughty to you."
"Well?" said the old lady, and she turned her back on the doll counter as far as she was able for being wedged in so, and this time Polly felt that she must make herself understood. Besides, the people on either side were beginning to be interested, and were nudging each other not to miss this funny thing.
So she began quite decidedly, determined to be brave and say it all through. "My brother—" But the stately old lady broke in, "I don't know anything about your brother, nor you, girl, and if you speak to me again, I shall call the proprietor," and she shook with indignation till all the jingling jet things, and there seemed to be a great many under her silk coat, made a great commotion.
"I came to ask you to forgive my brother who spoke to you because you brushed against my little sister." Polly was speaking so fast now, a little red spot on either cheek, that the stately old woman had to hear. "It was naughty of him, and Mamsie would be sorry."
"Naughty?" The old lady gasped for breath; it was such a new idea to ask her to forgive a saucy boy; still, she couldn't make any other reply than "It was scandalous, and you are nearly as bad, interrupting me in the midst of my Christmas shopping." Then she turned to the dolls again, leaving Polly to stumble back as best she might to the place where she had left Ben and the children. But they were not there.