I wish she hadn't gone,
too; for we promised to go over to see Florence this afternoon,
and she'll think it is queer if we don't."
"I wish you would try to be a little more patient, Polly," said
her mother. "You mustn't be cross every time that Molly laughs at
you; and you answered Aunt Jane very rudely just now. You need to
watch that tongue of yours, my dear, and not let it run away with
you. And now take this to Mrs. Hapgood, and tell her she will need
to allow a good large seam when she cuts it, for Molly is taller
than you."
"Yes'm," said Polly meekly, as she held up her face for the kiss,
without which she never left the house.
Then she slowly went down the stairs, and out at the door,
thinking over what her mother had just said to her, and resolving,
as she did at least twice every day, that she would never, never
quarrel with Molly again. But not in vain had Mrs. Adams devoted
the past thirteen years to watching her only child, and she
understood Polly's present mood well enough to call to her from
the window,--
"You'd better bring Molly back to lunch, I think. We're going to
have raspberry shortcake, and you know she likes that."
And Polly looked up, with a brightening face, to answer,--
"All right.
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