"It's no time to talk about me now," observed Alexia. "All our minds should be on Polly, and her Recital. Girls, did you see Jack Loughead down at the door?"
"Didn't we?" cried the girls.
"He's as handsome as a picture, isn't he?" cried Alexia, with another little pull at her rebellious hair.
"Isn't he?" hummed the girls.
"Well, he won't look at you, for all your fussing over those bangs," said Sally vindictively.
"Did you suppose I thought he would?" cried Alexia coolly. "Why, it's
Polly Pepper, everybody knows, that brings him here."
"What's become of Mr. Bayley?" asked one of the girls suddenly.
"Hush—sh! you mustn't ask," cried Alexia mysteriously, and turning away from the mirror, with a lingering movement; "there, it looks shockingly, but it is as good as I can fix it."
"Your hair always does look perfectly horrid," declared Sally Moore, deftly slipping into the vacated place.
"Well, do tell all you know about Mr. Bayley and Polly," begged the girl who had raised the question, "I'm just dying to know."