"And I'm glad enough to get where I can lay this old thing down," declared Alexia, dumping the bag of sugar upon the first resting-place she saw, an aesthetic little lounge, covered with elaborately embroidered pieces. "Oh, me! my arms are almost broken," and she stretched them restfully, "and beside, the sugar is 'most all run out."
"Oh, Alexia!" cried Polly, quite aghast, as she saw where Alexia had deposited the sugar, just as the proprietor of the shop hurried up with dismay written all over her countenance.
"Oh, my beautiful centerpieces!" she exclaimed, raising both hands in dismay, "I am sure they are quite, quite ruined."
"It's nothing but sugar," grumbled Alexia, as she huddled up her bundle again.
"And I'll brush it all off," said Polly anxiously, bestowing little pats over the various specimens of fancy work. "See, Miss Angell, I don't believe it's hurt," she said, lifting her flushed face.
"Well, I don't wish them," declared two ladies together, coming back from the small table Where they had gone to examine more work.
"They are quite mussed and tumbled now," added one, "and not at all what we want. Come, Sister," and she walked to the door, viewing with disfavor Alexia and her bundle, and Polly Pepper as well.
Miss Angell's face dropped to such a length that Polly couldn't bear to look at it.
"Oh, please don't go," cried Polly, flying after the irate customer; "I don't really believe the pretty things are hurt. Do just come back and see, please."
The other lady was standing irresolutely by the lounge, but she wouldn't even look at the centerpieces that Miss Angell was smoothing out with a despairing hand, preparing to put them into their boxes again.