"There, don't ask."

Phronsie crept away in a grieved fashion, to be presently folded into
Polly's warm arms. "I'm bad to-day, Phronsie dear. There, Pet, now you
are all right, aren't you?" as she hugged her close.

"I am, if you are, Polly," said Phronsie doubtfully.

"Well, I'm all right now," said Polly, her brow clearing; "the bad has
gone at last, I hope, to stay away, Phronsie. Now I must hurry and eat
this nice luncheon you've fixed for me;" and she sprang toward the
table.

"Don't you want to write a note first?" asked Phronsie, wondering at
Polly's strange mood, and following her to the table-edge, "you said
so."

"No; I've given it up," said Polly, sitting down and beginning on her
chop and toast. "Bless you, dear, you've given me an orchid," glancing
down between her mouthfuls to the bouquet at her plate; "you should have
saved them all for Jasper."

"Turner said I might have it," said Phronsie triumphantly, "and I knew
you'd give it to Jasper, so it's all right."

"It surely shall do double duty," said Polly merrily, with a tender
glance for the orchid. "Well, how's Baby?"

"He is very nice," said Phronsie, with a grown-up air, "and didn't cry a
bit for Mamsie. And now if you are really all right, Polly, I'll go up