“Won't let you? Well, I guess you'll not give her a chance,” cried Jasper hotly. “Polly, I do really wish that father would tell her to go away.”
“Oh, Jasper,” cried Polly, in alarm, “don't say one word to Grandpapa. Promise me you won't, Jasper.”
“Well, father is tired of her. She wears on him terribly, Polly,” said Jasper gloomily.
“I know,” said Polly sadly. “And oh, Jasper, if you say one word, he will really have her go. And I was so bad to her, you know,” and the tears came into Polly's brown eyes.
“Well, she must have been perfectly terrible to you,” said Jasper.
“Polly—Jasper—where are you?” came in old Mr. King's voice.
“Here, father,” and “Here, Grandpapa,” and Clare running up the steps, the little party was soon in the carriage.
“Promise me, Jasper, do,” implored Polly, when Grandpapa was explaining to Cathie about the great actor they were to see, and Clare was listening to hear all about it, too.
“Oh, I won't,” promised Jasper, “if you don't wish me to.”
“I really wouldn't have you for all the world,” declared Polly; and now that this fear was off from her mind, she began to pick up her old, bright spirits, so that by the time the carriage stopped at the theatre, Polly was herself again.