"Yes, indeed!" cried Mrs. Fisher cordially, and making way for him to sit down by her side.
"Now isn't this nice!" breathed Polly, lifting her head out of her mother's lap to look at him on Mamsie's other side. "Now, Jasper, you begin, and we'll tell her all about it, as we always do, you know, when we get home from places."
"I want to tell her something—and to you too, Polly," began Jasper quietly. "Mrs. Fisher—may I speak?" He leaned over and looked into the black eyes above Polly's shining brown hair.
"Yes," said Mother Fisher as quietly.
"How funny you are, Jasper," cried Polly with a laugh, "asking Mamsie in such a solemn way. There now, begin, do."
"Polly," said Jasper, "look at me, do, dear!"
Polly lifted her brown eyes quietly. "Why, Jasper?"
[Illustration: "NOW, JASPER, YOU BEGIN," CRIED POLLY, "AND WE'LL TELL
MAMSIE ALL ABOUT IT, AS WE ALWAYS DO WHEN WE GET HOME!">[
"I waited because I thought I ought," said Jasper, trying not to speak too quickly. "It seemed at one time as if you were going to be happy, and I should spoil it, Polly, if I spoke; but now—oh, Polly!" He put out his hand, and Polly instinctively laid her own warm palm within it. "Do you think you could love me—I've loved you ever since the Little Brown House days, dear!"
"Oh, Jasper!" Polly cried, with a glad ring in her voice, "how good you are," and she clung to his hand across Mamsie's lap.