"No; I've only talked with Mrs. Banks."
"Well, I'll talk to Polly. Polly, we've been looking for a nice little girl like you to come and stay at our house. I'm lame, and I can't do much. When mamma came home and told me about you and the bank and the paint-box and the valentine, I said, 'That's the girl for me; let's go and ask her to come.' And won't you come, Polly?"
"I—I'd like to if—if Jane can come too."
"Don't. Polly. I can't—I can't!" whispered Jane.
"Oh, mamma, mamma!" cried the lame Elise, entreatingly.
"Mamma" turned to Mrs. Banks. "If she would only come and help us,—come and try us, at least,—I'm sure we could make satisfactory arrangements."
Mrs. Banks nodded, and smiled approval. "Of course Jane can go if she chooses."
"And you will choose,—you will, won't you, Jane?"
"Course she will," cried Polly; and then everybody laughed, and everything was as good as settled from that moment. Then it was that Polly burst out, "I should be puffickly happy now if I only knew jus' who that mess'nger was that sent my valentine."
"Tell her, mamma, tell her!" called out Elise; and "mamma" bent down, and said to Polly,—