Part 75

"So I perceive," looking out on the delegation in the hall. For of course all the two clubs couldn't go to the presentation, so committees were chosen to represent them--Polly, Clem, Alexia, and Silvia, for the Salisbury Club, and Jasper, Clare, Pickering, and Richard Burnett for the boys' club; while old Mr. King on his own account had invited Joel, Percy and Van, and, of course, Tom Beresford.

"My! What shall we do with such a lot of boys?" exclaimed Alexia, as they all met in the hall.

"You don't have to do anything at all with us, Alexia," retorted Joel, who liked her the best of any of Polly's friends, and always showed it by sparring with her on every occasion, "only let us alone."

"Which I shall proceed to do with the greatest pleasure," said Alexia. "Goodness me! Joe, as if I'd be bothered with you tagging on. You're much worse than before you went away to school."

"Come, you two, stop your quarrelling," said Jasper, laughing. "A pretty example you'd make to those poor Corcoran children."

"Oh, we sha'n't fight there," said Alexia sweetly; "we'll have quite enough to do to see all that is going on. Oh, Polly, when do you suppose we can ever start?"

"Father has the bank-book," announced Jasper; "I saw him put it in his pocket, Polly."

Polly gave a little wriggle under her coat. "Oh, Jasper, isn't it just too splendid for anything!" she cried.

"I'm going to walk with Polly," announced Clem, seizing Polly's arm, "so, Alexia Rhys, I give you fair warning this time."

"Indeed, you're not," declared Alexia stoutly. "Why, I always walk with Polly Pepper."

"And that's just the reason why I'm going to to-day," said Clem, hanging to Polly's arm for dear life.

"Well, I'm her dearest friend," added Alexia, taking refuge in that well-worn statement, "so there now, Clem Forsythe."

"No, you're not," said Clem obstinately; "we're all her dearest friends, aren't we, Polly? Say, Polly, aren't we?"

"Hush!" said Jasper. "Father's coming."

"Well, I can't help it. I'm tired of hearing Alexia Rhys everlastingly saying that, and pushing us all away from Polly."

"Do hear them go on!" exclaimed Tom Beresford, off on the edge of the group. "Does she always have them carrying around like that?"

"Yes," said Joel, "a great deal worse. Oh, they're a lot of giggling girls; I hate girls!" he exploded.

"So do I," nodded Tom. "Let's keep clear of the whole lot, and walk by ourselves."

"Indeed, we will," declared Joel. "You won't catch me walking with girls when I can help it."

"Well, I wonder which of those two will get your sister, Polly, this time," said Tom, craning his long neck to see the contest.

"Oh, Alexia, of course," said Joel carelessly; "she always gets her in the end."

But Joel was wrong. Neither of the girls carried off Polly. Old Mr. King marched out of his reading-room. "Come, Polly, my child, you and I will walk together," and he waited on her handsomely out, and down the walk to the car.

Tom and Joel burst into a loud laugh, in which the others joined, at the crestfallen faces.

"Well, at least you didn't get her, Clem," said Alexia airily, coming out of her discomfiture.

"Neither did you," said Clem happily.

"And you are horrid boys to laugh," said Alexia, looking over at the two. "But then, all boys are horrid."

"Thank you," said Tom, with his best bow.

"Alexia Rhys, aren't you perfectly ashamed to be fighting with that new boy?" cried Clem.