"Are you sure you are not hurt, Mrs. Patterson?" Polly looked at her anxiously. Oh, dear me! how could she be so careless!
"Not a bit of it," declared that lady, "but, oh, Polly, do you suppose any one saw me?" and she gazed ruefully up and down the street again.
"I don't believe any one did," said Polly, peering this way and that.
"Polly, do come; this sugar is all running away," cried Alexia loudly.
"And do let me brush your gown," implored Polly, feeling as if everything were going wrong this afternoon.
"Never mind, I'm going directly home, here is the carriage," said Mrs.
Patterson, as her handsome equipage drew up. "Don't you worry a bit, Polly
Pepper; I'm not in the least hurt," and off she drove.
"Polly, will you come?" called Alexia, dancing about impatiently on the top step, and clutching the bag of sugar with nervous ringers that didn't help matters any. "Oh, dear me, do look!"—pointing tragically to the little pile of sweetness at her feet.
"Oh, I do hope she wasn't hurt," cried Polly, stumbling up over the steps, how, she didn't know.
"Oh, that tiresome Mrs. Patterson! Well, it will do her good to tumble down once in a while," said Alexia unsympathetically, "she's so stiff and mighty; and I should think you might pay some attention to me," she cried, in a loud, injured tone; "I'm all in a mess with this sugar, and I haven't got any candy, and you made me come clear down to this old shop, and——"
"Well, do come in," cried Polly, interrupting her stream of complaint, and, picking up the bag of nuts before any one else could tumble over it, she hurried Alexia into the little shop.