Part 53 (1/2)
”I'm so sorry for poor Miss Salisbury,” observed Pickering, lazily watching Jasper's efforts.
”Well, you needn't be,” retorted Alexia; ”she's very fond of me, Miss Salisbury is, and I don't in the least know what she'd do if I left her school. But I never shall go away, for I just dote on her.”
”It looks like it,” said Pickering, with a laugh.
”Well, I do,” declared Alexia; ”she's my very sweetest friend, except Polly Pepper, so there!”
”Oh, dear me! I don't know what next to say,” cried Jasper, holding off the notice at arm's length, and scowling at it dreadfully.
”You ought to see your face, Jasper,” cried Alexia. ”Dear me! it's positively awful.”
”Well, it's not half as bad as I feel,” said Jasper, ”with this terrible old notice weighing me down.”
”'Attention',” drawled Pickering, reading the two lines. ”'You are requested to appear--'”
”Hold on!” cried Jasper, turning over the notice. ”Who told you to read it out, pray tell?”
”I'm on the Committee, I'd have you know,” said Pickering coolly.
”Well, we'll pitch you out,” said Jasper, ”neck and heels, if you don't take care. Well, but really this is awful work.” He whirled over the notice again, and glared at it savagely.
”Why don't we just say, 'A Cooking Club is to be formed'?” proposed Polly, ”and----”
”Oh, that will be elegant,” interrupted Alexia, clapping her hands. ”Oh, Polly, you write it.”
”Oh, I couldn't,” said Polly, drawing back.
”Yes, Polly, do,” begged Jasper.
”Oh, no, you write it,” said Polly.
”Well, then, you tell me what to say,” said Jasper, laughing.
”She did,” said Alexia impatiently. ”A Cooking Club is to be formed'--didn't you hear her?”
”I have that,” said Jasper, scribbling away on a fresh piece of paper. ”Now what next?”
”Go on, Polly,” said Alexia.
”Well--oh, 'Will you please come to the first meeting?'”
”'And see how you like it,'” finished Alexia; ”that's just elegant--do write it down, Jasper.”
”You may be sure I will,” cried Jasper, vastly pleased that he was to be helped out, and finis.h.i.+ng it all up with great energy. ”Well, what else?”
and he poised his pen in air and looked at Polly.
”Why, isn't that enough?” said Polly, a little pucker beginning to come on her forehead.
”I should think so,” said Pickering; ”it tells all the story.”