"Will you promise not to?" he entreated. She smiled into his anxious face. "I'll never hear the last of that blunder if she gets hold of it," he fretted. "Say, Polly, don't tell--her or anybody!" Polly was still silent. "I thought you didn't b'lieve in hurting folks," he pouted. "I don't," she replied. "But you only laughed when I begged you not to sing that any more." "And you're going to pay me off," he responded gloomily. "Yes," Polly smiled, "that's just exactly what I'm going to do!" The lad's face darkened. "I shall pay you off," she went on slowly, "by not telling a single person, and I'll get Patricia and Leonora not to tell either." "Polly Dudley, you're a dandy girl!" His eyes sparkled. Polly ran off laughing. "It's all right!" she reported gleefully to Leonora and Patricia. "Nobody'll ever hear that song again! I was sure of it when I saw the word in the dictionary, for Vance Alden is so sensitive about a mistake. It is funny! Ilga--why, she'd never know whether it was good rhyme or metre or anything! But Vance didn't think of that. Now promise, both of you, that you won't ever tell!" CHAPTER VI "NOT FOR SALE" "Will your father be at home this evening?" Patricia inquired of Polly, as they left school together. The tone was eager. "Not all the time. He is due at the hospital at seven o'clock, and we never know when he'll be back. Why?" Patricia wagged her head mysteriously. "Mamma and I were coming over. Mamma wants to see him." "Oh! is she sick?" "Not a bit!" laughed Patricia. "She isn't coming for that." "Well, sometimes he gets back by eight, if there are no new cases; if there are, he has to stay. But you can come and see mother and me, can't you? We'd love to have you!" "I don't know. Perhaps. Only mamma wants to see your father on some very special business." Patricia giggled. "You act as if it were funny," observed Polly. "It will be if it comes to pass--lovely, too! Oh, don't I wish it would!" "Is it a secret?" asked Polly, her curiosity aroused. "Yes, a great secret! I promised mamma, fair and square, that I wouldn't tell you; but I want to awfully!" "I guess we'd better not talk about it, then, because you might let it out." "Oh, you darling!" cried Patricia, squeezing Polly's arm. "I do wish I could tell you right now! Aren't you aching to know?" "Why, you make me want to," laughed Polly; "but if it is your mother's private business, of course--" "It isn't!" broke in Patricia, a-giggle. "It's about you--oh, I mustn't!" She clapped her hand over her mouth. "Me?" Polly's eyes grew round with wonder. "But, oh, do stop talking about it! I'm afraid you'll tell more than your mother will like. Let's think of something else--repeat the multiplication table, or--anything!" Patricia laughed. "I guess you wouldn't care much about the multiplication table, if you knew!"