“Polly,” she said, “how would you like to have company to-morrow afternoon?”
“To have company!” repeated Polly, dropping the coat to stare at her mother.
“I don’t mean real company,” Mrs. Pepper made haste to add, “but to play company. You know you said you’d like to, sometime when Ben would be home.”
“And is Ben going to be home to-morrow?” said Polly. “I thought he was going to Mr. Henderson’s to work.”
“I shall tell Mr. Henderson he can’t go to-morrow afternoon to the parsonage,” said Mrs. Pepper, calmly. “Would you like it?”
“If Ben can stay home, I’d like it, oh, so very much,” exclaimed Polly, joyfully, and deserting her stool, the coat flying off in a heap, she threw her arms around Mrs. Pepper’s neck.
“Oh, Mamsie! You’re just too good for anything!” Then off she ran to Phronsie, still spinning contentedly around by herself.
“Phronsie,” she cried, seizing her and dancing away to keep step with the small feet. “We’re going to have company to-morrow afternoon; we are, Phronsie Pepper!”
Phronsie tried to pull herself away from Polly, seeing which Polly stopped short.
“Oh, Polly,” cried Phronsie, breathlessly, and gazing up at Polly’s face.