“Yes,” said Alexia, pleased at the effect of her efforts to entertain, “we are; into the dearest little yellow cottage, with barberry-bushes in front. I’ve named it, ‘The Pumpkin’ and”—
“O Alexia! you are only in fun now,” said Phronsie with a little laugh.
“Indeed, and I’m not,” said Alexia; “I’m having my cards engraved so. Why shouldn’t I have that name, when it’s just the color of a pumpkin, and not much bigger? and lots and lots of places have the most ridiculous names, and no rhyme nor reason for them either. You must come and visit me at ‘The Pumpkin,’ Miss Tupper, when we get in nicely. Then you’ll see for yourself, if you ever knew such a baby as that blessed child of mine. Oh, here’s Polly!”
Polly came in swiftly. She had a little white look around her mouth, as if she were very tired, but she smiled brightly. “It’s all right,” she said to Grace. “Oh, how nice and cheery you are here! Alexia,” and she beamed on her, “you’re as good as gold, to come out and be a comfort.”
“Ugh!” exclaimed Alexia, “don’t praise me, Polly.”
“Go and take your things off, do, Polly,” begged Phronsie.
Alexia sprang after Polly as she went out.
“Oh! I’ve been a horrid mean thing, Polly,” she cried, when safe in Polly’s room, “and I messed things up generally. But I’ll help you now, and she’s a dear, that Grace Tupper is, and you must go for that dreadful Fitzwilliam to-morrow;” and then she told Polly the story of her afternoon.
CHAPTER IX.
PHRONSIE SETTLES THE MATTER.
BUT Polly didn’t take Miss Fitzwilliam in charge; for Phronsie came to early breakfast the next morning with her little brown bonnet on, that, with the walking-suit, meant a day in town. “I am going to Berton,” she said, “with Jasper.”