“Grandpapa,” said Polly, “we are all here.”
“So I perceive,” looking out on the delegation in the hall. For of course all the two clubs couldn't go to the presentation, so committees were chosen to represent them—Polly, Clem, Alexia, and Silvia, for the Salisbury Club, and Jasper, Clare, Pickering, and Richard Burnett for the boys' club; while old Mr. King on his own account had invited Joel, Percy and Van, and, of course, Tom Beresford.
“My! What shall we do with such a lot of boys?” exclaimed Alexia, as they all met in the hall.
“You don't have to do anything at all with us, Alexia,” retorted Joel, who liked her the best of any of Polly's friends, and always showed it by sparring with her on every occasion, “only let us alone.”
“Which I shall proceed to do with the greatest pleasure,” said Alexia. “Goodness me! Joe, as if I'd be bothered with you tagging on. You're much worse than before you went away to school.”
“Come, you two, stop your quarrelling,” said Jasper, laughing. “A pretty example you'd make to those poor Corcoran children.”
“Oh, we sha'n't fight there,” said Alexia sweetly; “we'll have quite enough to do to see all that is going on. Oh, Polly, when do you suppose we can ever start?”
“Father has the bank-book,” announced Jasper; “I saw him put it in his pocket, Polly.”
Polly gave a little wriggle under her coat. “Oh, Jasper, isn't it just too splendid for anything!” she cried.
“I'm going to walk with Polly,” announced Clem, seizing Polly's arm, “so, Alexia Rhys, I give you fair warning this time.”