"Would it?" asked Phronsie, swallowing hard.

"Yes," said Polly, decidedly, "it would. People never go to a
party, and then say they must go home."

"Don't they, Polly?" asked the little girl.

"No," said Polly, decidedly, "I never heard of such a thing. And
just think, Phronsie Pepper, how Mamsie would look! Oh, you
can't mean to be a naughty girl."

"I--won't--be a naughty--girl, Polly," promised Phronsie,
battling with her tears, "an' I won't look at the big woman, nor
the boy. Then I'll stay."

So Polly kissed her, and pretty soon Mrs. Beebe bustled in, her
round face quite red with the exertions she had been making, and
Mr. Beebe having seen to his horse, came in rubbing his hands
worse than ever, saying, "Now, if we only had Joel, we'd be all
right."

"Now, my dears,"--began Mrs. Beebe. "Why, you haven't laid off
your things yet!" to the Peppers.

"No'm," said Polly, "but we will now, thank you, Mrs. Beebe,"
and she untied Phronsie's sun-bonnet and took off the shawl,
David putting his cap down on the counter, keeping a sharp,
disapproving eye on Ab'm every minute.

"When are you coming for a new pair of shoes?" whispered Mr.