“I guess I will. Now then, all together!” and the three spun off until out of breath.
“Oh dear me!” Polly stopped suddenly. “I never thought of your arm, Alexia. Oh, do you suppose we've hurt it?” It was so very dreadful to think of, that all the color deserted her cheek.
“Nonsense, no!” declared Alexia, “that spin put new life into me, Polly.”
“Well, I don't know,” said Polly critically; “at any rate, we mustn't do it any more. And we must tell Papa-Doctor about it as soon as he gets home.”
“Oh, what good is it to worry him?” cried Alexia carelessly. “Well, Polly, tell all the news about school,” as they hurried downstairs to get ready for luncheon.
“We must tell Papa-Doctor everything about it, Alexia,” said Polly in her most decided fashion, putting her arm carefully around Alexia's waist; and with Phronsie hanging to the other hand, down they went, Polly retailing the last bit of school news fresh that day.
“And, oh, Alexia, Miss Salisbury said we are not to have the picnic until you get quite well; she said so in the big schoolroom, before us all.”
“Did she, Polly?” cried Alexia, immensely gratified.
“Yes, she did.” Polly stood on her tiptoes at the imminent danger of going on her nose, and pulling the other's down, to get a kiss on the long sallow cheek. “She said it very distinctly, Alexia, and all the girls talked about it afterward.”
“Well, she's a dear old thing,” exclaimed Alexia, with remorseful little pangs at the memory of certain episodes at the “Salisbury School,” “and I shall try—oh, Polly, I'll try so hard to be nice and please her.”