“Does she?” cried Mrs. Pepper. “Then they shall go; yes, indeed.” And her black eyes shone with pleasure.
Peletiah at that started and moved slowly to the door.
“You tell your mother,” said Mrs. Pepper, “that I am very much obliged, and that Polly and Phronsie will go.”
“And Polly said to tell her that Phronsie and she would go if you said they might. I must tell her that, too,” said Peletiah, precisely.
“Well, I have said they might go, so that is all you need to say, Peletiah,” said Mrs. Pepper; “only be sure to tell her I am very much obliged.”
But Peletiah decided in his own mind as he went slowly off that he should give the whole of the two messages just as they came to him.
And the next morning Polly hurried to the parsonage with Phronsie, in a clean pink pinafore, clinging to her hand.
“O dear me!” thought Polly, as she came in sight of it, and her heart sank with the dread of meeting a pair of sharp green eyes, and a long hard face, till she scarcely dared to look up. But she needn’t have worried, for Miss Jerusha had been gone a whole half-hour, and there at the gate was the minister’s boy waiting for her.
“I want to play what you did yesterday,” said Peletiah.
“Oh,—‘Stage-coach,’” said Polly, with a gasp, bringing her brown eyes to bear on his face.