"Any answer?" asked Polly. "Oh, stay; I would better read it before you go." And she tore it open.
"I am so sorry that I cannot keep my engagement to play the duet with Miss Porter, but the doctor has just been here, and he says I must not go out. I should have written this morning that I had a sore throat, but I thought I could manage to go. I'm so sorry—oh, Miss Pepper, I'm so sorry!
"JULIA ANDERSON."
[Illustration: "I'LL NOT SING A NOTE!">[
The note fell to Polly's lap, and for a minute she could not speak.
"There is no answer," at last she said to the messenger.
"Oh, Miss Pepper, what is it?" cried Amy Loughead, brought out of her own fright, by the dread of a new trouble.
"Julia Anderson is sick and cannot be here," said Polly.
"Oh, dear! and she was going to play with Miss Porter. What will you do?" cried Amy in consternation.
"Why, I shall have to take her place," said Polly, forcing herself to speak.
"Oh, dear—dear!" exclaimed Amy, trying not to burst into tears.
"Everything is just as bad and horrid as it can be. Oh, dear, dear, and
I can't play; I should disgrace you!"