"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, standing quite still in the middle of the room,
the lightning flash and the sudden peal of thunder coming without warning.
"Oh, I'm scared to death," cried Alexia, burrowing frantically; "come in
here, Polly Pepper. Are you killed?" she screamed.
"No," said Polly, "and I don't believe there'll be another as bad."
"Oh, come in here. Ooh!" cried Alexia, in muffled accents, as she huddled
up against the clothes.
"Oh, Polly!" It was Miss Rhys: her embroidery, cast aside at the sudden
storm-burst, was dragging behind her, and she was wringing her hands. "Did
you ever see anything so dreadful?"
"I don't believe there'll be another as bad," said Polly again, finding
nothing more of consolation to offer.
"And where is Alexia?" And without waiting for an answer, Miss Rhys
paced nervously up and down the room, still wringing her hands. "And
of course there will be more; there, there it comes," and she ran, the
embroidery-piece still hanging to her gown, into the closet.
"Oh, Aunt," cried Alexia, with a squeal, "you scared me 'most to death; I
thought I was struck!"
"Why, are you here, Alexia?" gasped Miss Rhys, when she could recover
herself enough to speak. "Well, this is truly a dreadful storm," and she
clutched her with shaking fingers.
"Yes, I am here," said Alexia. "Don't pinch so, Aunt--ow! My arm is all
black and blue, I know it is.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229