"Do go!" She tossed an imperative command with her jeweled fingers. "You have ceased to be amusing since your interest is all in the other room with that boy."
Polly dashed the newspaper to the floor, and rushing impulsively across the room, threw herself, with no thought for the consequences, on her knees at Mrs. Chatterton's chair.
"Oh—oh!" she cried, the color flying up to the brown waves on her temples, "don't send me off; then I shall know you never will forgive me."
"Get up, do!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton, in disgust; "you are crushing my gown, and besides I hate scenes."
But Polly held resolutely to the chair-arm, and never took her brown eyes from the cold face.
"I must say, Polly Pepper," cried Mrs. Chatterton with rising anger, "you are the most disagreeable girl that I ever had the misfortune to meet. I, for one, will not put up with your constant ebullitions of temper. Go out of this room!"
Polly rose slowly and drew herself up with something so new in face and manner that the old lady instinctively put up her eyeglass and gazed curiously through it, as one would look at a strange animal.
"Humph!" she said slowly at last, "well, what do you want to say? Speak out, and then go."
"Nothing," said Polly in a low voice, but quite distinctly, "only I shall not trouble you again, Mrs. Chatterton." And as the last words were spoken, she was out of the room.
"Pretty doings these!" Mr. King, by a dexterous movement, succeeded in slipping back of the portiere folds into the little writing-room, as Polly rushed out through the other doorway into the hall. "A fortunate thing it was that I left Dick, to see what had become of Polly. Now, Cousin Eunice, you move from my house!" and descending the stairs, he called determinedly, "Polly, Polly, child!"