And then Polly had to tell the whole story.
"And that's where you were after breakfast, you little monkey, breaking a bank, and running away with it, to buy Jane McClane a valentine. Well, if this isn't the funniest thing I ever heard of. Jane! Jane! come up here and show Polly your valentine!" And up came Jane, her face beaming with smiles, holding in one hand a big square envelope, and in the other an open sheet all covered with lilies and roses and cherubs' faces; that very "bewt'f'lest valentine" that had been chosen for her.
Polly, staring at it in amazement, cried out, "Why, she's got it! she's got it!" And then, pulling open the envelope addressed to Polly Price, she stared in amazement again, and cried out, "Why, this is just like that one,—the one I bought for you, Janey!"
And then it was Jane's turn to cry out in amazement, to say, "You bought it; how did you buy it, Polly?"
"She broke a bank and ran away with the money," laughed Martha.
"I didn't, either. The chimney's made to come out, and the bank's my bank," retorted Polly, indignantly.
"You took your money,—your money you've been saving to buy the paint-box with, to buy this valentine for me?" asked Jane.
"Yes," faltered Polly.
"And gave up the paint-box! Oh, Polly, Polly, you're a dear;" and Jane swooped down upon Polly with a tremendous hug. Polly returned the embrace with ardor, and then, "Who d' you s'pose," she asked, "who d' you s'pose sent me one jus' exactly like yours? It must be somebody that likes me jus' as I like you, Janey."
"Mrs. Banks wants you to go down to the parlor, Polly. There's some one to see you," a voice interrupted here.