“I want Polly,” she said presently.
“Stay where you are, Polly,” said her mother, who had telegraphed this before with her eyes, over Phronsie's yellow hair.
Polly, at the sound of Phronsie's voice, had leaned forward, but now stood quite still, clasping her hands tightly together.
“Speak to her, Polly,” said Jasper.
But Polly shook her head, unable to utter a sound.
“Polly, you must,” said Jasper, for Phronsie was trying to turn in her mother's lap, and saying in a worried way, “Where's Polly? I want Polly.”
“Polly is over there,” said Mamsie, “but I do not think it's best for her to come now. But she'll speak to you, Phronsie.”
“How funny!” laughed Phronsie. “Polly can't come, but she'll talk across the room.”
Everything turned black before Polly's eyes; but she began, “Yes, Pet, I'm here,” very bravely.
“I am so glad you are there, Polly,” said Phronsie, easily satisfied.