they have."

"Oh, Mrs. Puddicombe!" burst out Polly, "Miss Sterling didn't send
me at all! She doesn't know a thing about it! I never thought of
coming in until I passed the door--then it occurred to me that
maybe you would like to help her out. It's pretty hard to have to
go to a wedding with your hair all flat, just as they do it at a
hospital--I don't believe you'd like it yourself, Mrs. Puddicombe."

Several smiles were visible. A titter escaped the youngest member.

Mrs. Puddicombe's broad face reddened under her amazing labyrinth
of screwlike curls.

"These charity people," she resumed irrelevantly, "never know when
they're well off. Why, this Home is the very gate of heaven! Just
look at that new rug in the library--it cost three hundred dollars!
But who appreciates it?"

"Well, I should rather walk over a thirty-cent rug than every time
I turned round have to have a rule to turn by!" Polly tossed out
the words impetuously.

"You're a saucy girl!" returned Mrs. Puddicombe. "You'd better go
home and tell your father to teach you good manners." The
president rapped for order.

"I beg your pardon, if I was saucy," Polly hastened to say. "I
didn't mean to be. I was only thinking--"