“I’ve three white rabbits,” said Rob, “and I want to show them to you, Polly.”

“And mama has bought the dearest angora kitten for me.  I wish you’d come down soon and see it,” urged Leslie; “it’s just a baby cat and you can’t help loving her, she’s so cunning.”

“I haven’t anything new to show you,” said Vivian, laughing merrily.  “I mean I’ve nothing of my own, but there’s something I’ll show you, and I guess it’s different from anything you ever saw!”

“Why, Vivian Osborne!  What are you going to show Polly?” Harry Grafton asked.

Vivian’s eyes were dancing as she whispered something in Harry’s ear.

“Oh, that’s it, is it?  Well, I guess Polly will look when you show it to her!”

“You just tell me this minute!” said Polly.  “I’m wild to know what it is!”

“It,” said Vivian, “is a girl, a very pretty little girl!”

“Then why is she a sight to see, and why do you laugh?” Polly asked, completely puzzled.

“She looks well enough,” Vivian replied, “but she acts like—­”

“The old scratch!” said Rob.

“Oh, Rob!” cried Lena, “Mama told you not to say that!”

“I know it,” Rob admitted, “but I couldn’t think of any other name that would give Princess Polly an idea what she was like.”

“But who is she?  Where is she?” questioned Polly.

“Oh, she lives in the next house to us,” said Vivian.  “Her papa has bought that fine large house that has the big lawn, and the lovely garden at the back.  She’s very, very pretty, and if she didn’t act so—­”

“How does she act?” said Polly.  “I tell you all truly, I’m wild to see her!”

“Rob told you how she acted,” said Harry, with a laugh, “and old Scratch isn’t half bad ’nough.  Say!  She wanted to have a wedding for her best doll the other day, and she cut a lace curtain off a yard from the floor to make a wedding veil for it!”

“’Twas a parlor curtain and I guess her mama didn’t think that was cunning,” said Lena.

“She tells lies—­”

“Oh, Harry!” interrupted Leslie, “you mustn’t.”

“Well, she does, and they’re too big to be called fibs,” Harry said, stoutly.

“And the queerest thing is that Inez Varney plays with her all the time, and she doesn’t ever play with any of us now.  She hasn’t been to my house since that new little girl came here to live,” said Leslie.

“And Leslie don’t care,” declared Harry, “because Inez was getting queerer and queerer, and she wasn’t the pleasantest playmate, but now she’s so gay you’d hardly think she was Inez Varney.”

Polly was greatly interested.

“What’s the new little girl’s name?” she asked.

“Gwen Harcourt, and mama says that Mrs. Harcourt is lovely, and I must be kind to Gwen,” said Lena, “and it would be hard, only I don’t often see her.  She’s always with Inez.”