troubled about something. That's what makes her feel so."

"It's a queer way to bear trouble, I should think, to abuse you," said
Jasper, "when you've been bothering yourself about her all this time."

"Oh, I don't mind," said Polly, brightening up, "if only you won't talk
of our dropping her, Jasper."

Jasper turned on his heel, and walked to the window. When he looked
back, the annoyance had dropped out of his face, and he was just
saying, "All right, Polly, it ought to be as you say, I'm sure," when
Adela Gray rushed into the room and up to Polly, and flung her arms
around her neck. "There, and there, and there!" and something tumbled
into Polly's hands.

"I didn't want anybody to see it," mumbled Adela, "for I've spoiled it;
and I was trying to rub out the spots when you came in, and I made it
worse than ever. But I'll give it to you now, Polly; and please tear it
up, and I'll make you another."

When this long speech was all mumbled out, Polly was looking at a
little sketch of Phronsie holding the fat Marken baby, and the Marken
people looking on.

"Oh, Jasper!" screamed Polly, "do come here! Oh, Adela, did you draw
this? And oh! how perfectly beautiful!" all in one breath.

"It _is_ a good thing," said Jasper, taking the drawing from
Polly's hand and examining it critically, while Polly threw her arms
around Adela, and oh-ed and ah-ed her delight at finding that she could