"Oh, now," cried Alexia, catching sight of it, "I almost know that's to hurry you back, Polly. She sha'n't read it, girls." With that she made a feint of seizing the large white envelope.
"Hands off from my property," cried Polly merrily, waving her off, and sitting down on the stair she tore the letter open.
Alexia worked her way along till she was able to sit down beside her, when she was guilty of looking over her shoulder.
"Oh, Alexia Rhys, how perfectly, dreadfully mean!" cried one of the other girls, wishing she could be in the same place.
Alexia turned a deaf ear, and coolly read on, one arm around Polly.
"Oh, girls—girls!" she suddenly screamed, and jumping up, nearly oversetting Polly, she raced over the remaining stairs to the bottom, where she danced up and down the wide hall, "Polly isn't going back—she isn't—she isn't," she kept declaring.
"What!" cried all the girls. "Oh, do stop, Alexia. What is it?"
Meantime Cathie Harrison ran up and quickly possessed herself of the vacated seat.
"Why, Mr. Whitney writes to say that Polly needn't go back—oh, how perfectly lovely in him!" cried Alexia, bringing up flushed and panting. "Oh, dear me, I can't breathe!"
"Oh! oh!" cried all the girls, clapping their hands.