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第38章 GOOD-BY (4)

The rest of the evening was to be devoted to the German; and, as Polly knew nothing about it, she established herself in a window recess to watch the mysteries. For a time she enjoyed it, for it was all new to her, and the various pretty devices were very charming; but, by and by, that bitter weed, envy, cropped up again, and she could not feel happy to be left out in the cold, while the other girls were getting gay tissue-paper suits, droll bonbons , flowers, ribbons, and all manner of tasteful trifles in which girlish souls delight. Everyone was absorbed; Mr. Sydney was dancing;Tom and his friends were discussing base-ball on the stairs; and Maud's set had returned to the library to play.

Polly tried to conquer the bad feeling; but it worried her, till she remembered something her mother once said to her,­"When you feel out of sorts, try to make some one else happy, and you will soon be so yourself.""I will try it," thought Polly, and looked round to see what she could do. Sounds of strife in the library led her to enter. Maud and the young ladies were sitting on the sofa, talking about each other's clothes, as they had seen their mammas do.

"Was your dress imported?" asked Grace.

"No; was yours?" returned Blanche.

"Yes; and it cost­oh, ever so much."

"I don't think it is as pretty as Maud's.""Mine was made in New York," said Miss Shaw, smoothing her skirts complacently.

"I can't dress much now, you know, 'cause mamma's in black for somebody,"observed Miss Alice Lovett, feeling the importance which affliction conferred upon her when it took the form of a jet necklace.

"Well, I don't care if my dress is n't imported; my cousin had three kinds of wine at her party; so, now," said Blanche.

"Did she?" And all the little girls looked deeply impressed, till Maud observed, with a funny imitation of her father's manner,­"My papa said it was scan-dill-us; for some of the little boys got tipsy, and had to be tooked home. He would n't let us have any wine;and gwandma said it was vewy impwoper for childwen to do so.""My mother says your mother's coupé is n't half so stylish as ours," put in Alice.

"Yes, it is, too. It 's all lined with gween silk, and that 's nicer than old wed cloth," cried Maud, ruffling up like an insulted chicken.

"Well, my brother don't wear a horrid old cap, and he 's got nice hair.

I would n't have a brother like Tom. He 's horrid rude, my sister says,"retorted Alice.

"He is n't. Your brother is a pig."

"You 're a fib!"

"So are you!"

Here, I regret to say, Miss Shaw slapped Miss Lovett, who promptly returned the compliment, and both began to cry.

Polly, who had paused to listen to the edifying chat, parted the belligerents, and finding the poor things tired, cross, and sleepy, yet unable to go home till sent for, proposed to play games. The young ladies consented, and "Puss in the corner" proved a peacemaker. Presently, in came the boys;and being exiles from the German, gladly joined in the games, which soon were lively enough to wake the sleepiest. "Blind-man's-buff" was in full swing when Mr. Shaw peeped in, and seeing Polly flying about with band-aged eyes, joined in the fun to puzzle her. He got caught directly; and great merriment was caused by Polly's bewilderment, for she could n't guess who he was, till she felt the bald spot on his head.

This frolic put every one in such spirits, that Polly forgot her trouble, and the little girls kissed each other good-night as affectionately as if such things as imported frocks, coupés , and rival brothers did n't exist "Well, Polly, do you like parties?" asked Fan when the last guest was gone.

"Very much; but I don't think it would be good for me to go to many,"answered Polly, slowly.

"Why not?"

"I should n't enjoy them if I did n't have a fine dress, and dance all the time, and be admired, and­all the rest of it.""I did n't know you cared for such things," cried Fanny, surprised.

"Neither did I till to-night; but I do; and as I can't have 'em, it 's lucky I 'm going home tomorrow.""Oh, dear! So you are! What shall I do without my 'sweet P.,' as Sydney calls you?" sighed Fanny, bearing Polly away to be cuddled.

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