"I'm going up to see Alan," responded Polly.
"But I thought we were all going down to see Bridget."
"Bother Bridget!" returned Polly, with some energy. "The rest of
you can go all the time, if you want to; but it's my impression
that charity begins at home. Here we've all of us had that
everlasting old Bridget on the brain, and let Alan get along as
best he can."
"But Alan has mamma, and Bridget hasn't anybody but us," said
Molly, in a virtuous tone of self-denial.
"I don't care if she hasn't," retorted Polly vehemently; "she has
five of you to coddle her, and you just go there because you like
the fun and think it sounds goody. There are enough of you without
me, and one of you can take my afternoon, till Alan gets better."
"That's just like Polly," said Molly teasingly. "She always has
liked boys better than girls."
Polly's face flushed.
"You know that's not so, Molly! I've done my fair share with
Bridget, but now I think it isn't just right to go chasing off
after her when we're leaving Alan all alone. If you knew--" Polly
checked herself abruptly, then added more quietly, "I'll tell you
what, girls, it isn't like Alan to be cross, and if he is, there's
some good reason for it, so I think it's our place to find out
what's the matter.
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