“And sitting down to dinner with her!” went on Polly.

David shook his head.  “A man might stand it for one day, but for a lifetime—­good-bye!”

“It doesn’t seem as if he would marry just for money,” sighed Polly.

“That’s what most men think of first.  Isn’t it, Mrs. Dudley?”

“Some of them,” she agreed.  “I can’t believe they are in the majority.”

“She’ll make the very crotchetiest wife!” asserted Polly.  “He’ll have to keep her in a glass case!  See how she went on up in the pasture!  The sun was too hot and the wind was too cool, her stone seat was too hard, and the ground was too rough to dance on!  Everything was too something!  She wasn’t contented till she got her ‘Nelson’ out of reach of Miss Nita.  I guess men have to run more risk than girls do.”

“Uncle David wouldn’t agree with you,” smiled David.  “Aunt Juliet tells a story about him—­long before he was married.  A girl—­I think it was a trained nurse, anyhow somebody he knew pretty well—­asked him what he thought of her marrying.  He waited a moment, and then said, in his deliberate way, ’Well, I don’t know more than three or four decent men anyway, and you wouldn’t be likely forget any of them!’ She had to tell of that, and Aunt Juliet heard it.  Uncle David looks solemn at first, when she begins it—­then he chuckles.”

“That sounds just like Colonel Gresham,” laughed Mrs. Dudley.

“He’s such a nice man!” praised Polly with emphasis.  “And so is Mr. Randolph, just as lovable!—­I wouldn’t mind marrying him myself.”

“You wouldn’t!” flashed David.

“No,” maintained Polly; “but I shan’t have a chance,” she chuckled.

Her mother heard the Doctor calling and went to him.

“You ought to go in there and hear those children ’talking about marriage,” she whispered; “it is better than a circus!”

The Doctor looked through to where they sat, and smiled.

Meantime the talk in the living-room had taken a personal turn.

“I suppose you’d marry any of the fellows.”  David was grumbling.

“I should prefer to choose,” laughed Polly.  “Oh, David! it is funny to hear you go off!”

She dimpled over it.

“’Funny’!” he scorned.  “That Wilmerding dude will be walking down to school with you, same as last year!  Carrying your books, too!” David frowned.  “And you’ll let him!”

“He might as well be of use.  It’s lots easier than to carry them myself.”

“Wish your father’d send you down in the car.”

“He thinks it better for me to walk,” she smiled.

“You’ll talk and laugh,” David fretted on, “till he’ll think you’re dead in love with him!  You jolly with all the boys more than you do with me!”

Polly’s face sobered.  “David,” she said, “in some things you are wonderfully wise; but you don’t seem to know very much about girls.  I am not always the happiest when I’m laughing.  You talk as if you’d like to keep me in prison, same as Miss Sniffen keeps those poor dears over there.  I know better, but it sounds that way.”