The tears flew into Polly's brown eyes, and every bit of color deserted
her round cheek. "Don't call it that, Pickering," she implored, putting
out her hand.

"I shall call it just what it is," declared Pickering, in his stiffest
fashion. "It's a broken engagement, Polly Pepper, nothing more nor
less."

"Then," said Polly, all her tears dried, "I must go with you, if you
hold me to it." She raised her head, and looked him full in the eyes. "I
will be ready," and she moved off with her most superb air, without
deigning a good-by.

[Illustration: "WHY, POLLY PEPPER, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"]

"Oh, Polly," cried Pickering, starting forward to overtake her, "see
here, if you very much wish it, why, of course, Polly--Polly, do look
around!"

"What do you wish to say?" asked Polly, not looking around as he gained
her side.

"Why, of course," cried Pickering, his words stumbling over each other,
"if you can't go, I'll--I'll give it up, and stay at home."

"And why should you stay at home?" cried Polly, suddenly giving him a
glimpse of her face; "you've lovely seats; do ask Alexia."

"Alexia!" exclaimed Pickering angrily. "Indeed I will not. I don't want