"No, I'm not going to," said Alexia obstinately, and leaning back in her chair; "you've just got to do it, Polly, so there!"
"There'll be no peace, Polly, for any of us until you do," said Pickering, thrusting his hands lazily into his pockets.
"And I think people would do better to go to work and help," said Alexia decidedly, "than to set other people against—oh, dear me!" as she found herself hopelessly entangled.
"You would do better to get yourself out of that sentence, Alexia," laughed
Jasper, "before you do anything else."
"Well, I don't care," said Alexia, joining in the general laugh; "it's too mean for anything, Pickering, to say I fight, when everybody knows I suffer just everything before I say a word."
"Oh, dear me!" cried Pickering faintly.
"And when you two stop sparring," said Jasper, "perhaps we can do some work. Come now, Polly and I don't propose to do the whole."
Alexia, at this, scrabbled up another envelope, and began to write as fast as she could. And Pickering selecting a pen and getting down to business, the room began to assume a very work-like aspect.
"Now that's done," said Alexia, tossing aside the envelope. "I've addressed notice number two."
"Whose is it?" asked Pickering, glancing up from his own to the scrawling characters where the envelope lay face uppermost on the table. "Who is number two, Alexia?"