Marken baby in her lap on the stubbly bank.

"Isn't it, Grandpapa?" cried Polly, overflowing with happiness; "and
she has given it to me, Grandpapa. Oh, isn't she good!"

"She is, indeed," assented old Mr. King, just as well pleased as Polly.
"A very good girl, indeed. Come here, Adela."

Adela, whose sharp ears had caught most of this dialogue at the other
end of the room,--although Jasper was keeping a steady fire of talk to
drown it if possible,--was looking in dismay at him.

"O dear me, I wish they'd stop," she breathed in distress.

"I thought you said you had no ear," said Jasper, laughing at her face.

"I can't tell music notes," she said, "but I can hear things."

"Yes, I should think you could," he said. And then came old Mr. King's
"Come here, Adela," so she had to go across the room, shaking every
step of the way, and stand in front of him.

"I didn't know we had such a good little artist among us," said
Grandpapa, wonderfully well pleased and smiling kindly at her.

"That is nothing," said Adela, in despair at ever stopping the flow of
praise. "I spoiled it, and I'm going to do Polly a better one."

"Nothing could be better, my dear," said Grandpapa, blandly; "it is a
fine likeness of Phronsie." And then he questioned her as to her