"I haven't anything to say," Polly condescended to give him, without turning her head. "Come, Phronsie," holding out her hand.
"Wait a minute."
"Well, what is it?" Polly's hand now held Phronsie's, but she paused on the way to the door.
"I guess I can give up things as well as she can, if I know Mamsie wants me to," said Joel, with a deeply injured manner.
"Mamsie doesn't want any of us to give up anything unless we do it as if we were glad to," said Polly. For her life, she couldn't conceal a little scornful note in her voice, and Joel winced miserably.
"I—I wish she wouldn't have the big party," he whined.
"I thought you wanted it," said Polly, turning to him.
"I—I don't. I'd rather Mamsie would be happy. O, dear! don't look at me so."
"I'm not looking at you so," said Polly. "You acted just as if you had your heart set on the party."
"Well, it isn't. I'll—I'll—if you say party to me again!" and he faced her vindictively.