“Polly,” said Mother Fisher, and her face lightened, “I do think you have saved Phronsie from terrible sorrow; for if you can persuade Mr. King to let her be married here,—and no other person can do it I’m very sure, as Phronsie won’t speak,—you’ll see Roslyn well again. And nothing else will bring him up, the doctor and I both think.”
“I persuade Father King!” exclaimed Polly, raising her head in dismay to look first at Mother Fisher and then at Jasper. “Oh, I never could in all this world!”
“I imagine you could for Phronsie,” said Mrs. Fisher slowly.
“But he has just brought her clear over here at a dreadful sacrifice to his feelings,” went on Polly in greater dismay; “and then to be teased and urged to let her be married, and in a plain little way, here—oh, I can’t do it!”
“‘Can’t’ is a word that you ought not to spell, Polly,” said Mother Fisher gravely.
Polly shivered, and shrank down again into Mamsie’s lap. “Oh! I know you’ve been disappointed in me, Mamsie,” she cried, “because I didn’t want Phronsie to lose the beautiful marriage-day we all want to give her at home.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Fisher slowly, “I was disappointed, Polly.”
“But Polly has come to see it all right now,” cried Jasper eagerly, and pressing Polly’s hand comfortingly.
“I am glad of that,” said Mrs. Fisher, still smoothing Polly’s bright brown hair.
“I’ll do it,” said Polly at last, with a gasp, and getting up to her feet. Jasper put his arm around her, his eyes saying, “I wish I could help you, Polly.”