It 's so pleasant to be liked." And she looked up with her face quite bright again.
"I always did like you, don't you know, ever since that first visit." "But you teased me shamefully, for all that." "So I did, but I don't now." Polly did not answer, and Tom asked, with more anxiety than the occasion required: "Do I, Polly ?" "Not in the same way, Tom," she answered in a tone that did n't sound quite natural.
"Well, I never will again." "Yes, you will, you can't help it." And Polly's eye glanced at Sydney, who was in front with Fan.
Tom laughed, and drew Polly closer as the crowd pressed, saying, with mock tenderness: "Did n't she like to be chaffed about her sweethearts?
Well, she shan't be if I can help it.

Poor dear, did she get her little bonnet knocked into a cocked hat and her little temper riled at the same time ?" Polly could n't help laughing, and, in spite of the crush, enjoyed the slow journey from seat to carriage, for Tom took such excellent care of her, she was rather sorry when it was over.
They had a merry little supper after they got home, and Polly gave them a burlesque opera that convulsed her hearers, for her spirits rose again and she was determined to get the last drop of fun before she went back to her humdrum life again.
"I 've had a regularly splendid time, and thank you ever so much," she said when the "good-nights" were being exchanged.
"So have I.Let 's go and do it again to-morrow," said Tom, holding the hand from which he had helped to pull a refractory glove.
"Not for a long while, please.

Too much pleasure would soon spoil me," answered Polly, shaking her head.
"I don't believe it.

Good-night, 'sweet Mistress Milton,' as Syd called you.

Sleep like an angel, and don't dream of I forgot, no teasing allowed." And Tom took himself off with a theatrical farewell.
"Now it 's all over and done with," thought Polly as she fell asleep after a long vigil.