"Like it?" repeated her mother. "How can she help it, Polly?"
"I think so too," said Polly, happily, replacing it on the bed of cotton, and putting on the cover to look over another gift.
Mrs. Fisher regarded her keenly. "Well, now, Polly," she said, decidedly, "I shall go down and get that chain we were looking at. For you do need that, and your father and I are going to give it to you."
"Oh, Mamsie," protested Polly, "I don't need it; really, I don't."
"Well, we shall give it to you," said Mother Fisher. Then she went over to the bed and dropped a kiss on Polly's brown hair.
"Mamsie," exclaimed Polly, springing off the bed, and throwing her arms around her mother's neck, "I shall love that chain, and I shall wear it just all the time because you and Papa-Doctor gave it to me."
When they neared Paris, Adela drew herself up in her corner of the compartment. "I expect you'll stare some when you get to Paris, Polly Pepper."
"I've been staring all the time since we started on our journey, Adela, as hard as I could," said Polly, laughing.
"Well, you'll stare worse than ever now," said Adela, in an important way. "There isn't anything in all this world that isn't in Paris," she brought up, not very elegantly.
"I don't like Paris." Tom let the words out before he thought.