"
"Oh, dear me!" cried Pickering faintly.
"And when you two stop sparring," said Jasper, "perhaps we can do some
work. Come now, Polly and I don't propose to do the whole."
Alexia, at this, scrabbled up another envelope, and began to write as fast
as she could. And Pickering selecting a pen and getting down to business,
the room began to assume a very work-like aspect.
"Now that's done," said Alexia, tossing aside the envelope. "I've addressed
notice number two."
"Whose is it?" asked Pickering, glancing up from his own to the scrawling
characters where the envelope lay face uppermost on the table. "Who is
number two, Alexia?"
"You mustn't see," cried Alexia, twitching it away; "you go on and address
your own, Pickering, and let mine alone."
"Well, I've seen already," said Pickering coolly. "It would be impossible
not to read your writing a mile off, Alexia."
"Well, that's much better than to write such mean, lazy little words that
nobody can make them out," she retorted.
"Oh, clear! we haven't a pattern of the notice made yet," said Polly,
leaning back in her chair, after the labor of getting the first envelope
addressed; and she pushed up the little brown rings of hair from her brow,
for Polly didn't like very well to write, and it always took her some time
to achieve anything in that line. "Jasper, you draw up one, do," she
begged.
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