“Not Mrs. Chatterton!” exclaimed Polly aghast; and jumping up, her face very pale, and upsetting her box of ribbons, she seized Joel's arm.
“Tell me this very minute, Joel Pepper,” she commanded, “what do you mean?”
“Mrs. Chatterton has just come. I saw her coming up the drive. There's Johnson now letting her in.” Joel had it all out now in a burst, ready to cry at sight of Polly's face, as the bustle in the hall below and the thin, high voice proclaimed the worst.
“Oh, Joel, Joel!” mourned Polly, releasing his arm to wring her hands. “What shall we do?”
“She's an old harpy,” declared Joel; “mean, horrid, old thing!”
“Oh, stop, Joel!” cried Polly, quite horrified.
“Well, she is,” said Joel vindictively, “to come before we'd got back to school.”
“Well, don't say so,” begged Polly, having hard work to keep back her own words, crowding for utterance. “Mamsie wouldn't like it, Joey.”
Joel, with this thought on his mind, only grumbled out something so faintly that really Polly couldn't hear as she ran out into the hall.
“Oh, Jasper!”