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"I'LL LOVE HER JUST FOREVER!"
"I'm going home," cried Alexia, hoarsely, and rushing blindly down the hall.
"Alexia!" Polly deserted Phronsie and raced after her. "You can't mean it; do come back. It isn't any matter that lace was torn," she added breathlessly, as she gained her side.
"Polly Pepper," gasped Alexia, "how can you say so? It's the most dreadful thing!" and she turned wide eyes of amazement at her.
"I mean it isn't near as bad as for you to run home," said Polly, hastily; "that would make Mrs. Whitney feel ever so much worse."
At the mention of Mrs. Whitney's name, Alexia's long figure shook all over. "Horrors! I can't ever see her again!" and she buried her face in her hands.
"Now, Alexia, aren't you ashamed to act so?" said Polly. "Dear me, over a bit of lace that can be mended, I most know; and we've had so much trouble," and she sighed.
"And I've made a mess of it ever since those boys came home, and now I've gone and torn that lace," mumbled Alexia, between her fingers, the sigh making her nearly frantic. "Polly Pepper, I shall go home,"—with that she sprang away from Polly, and ran upstairs to Polly's room to get her things.
Polly, with only one thought to get Mamsie, who alone seemed to be the person to manage this new trouble, hurried off to find her. But Mrs. Fisher, happy in the success of the little luncheon party, had disappeared to some unknown house duty, and couldn't at this very moment be found. So Polly had the distress to hear, before she could run over the stairs herself, the big front door bang, and, hurrying to the window, she saw Alexia running down the driveway and pulling her coat around her as she ran.