POLLY OF LADY GAY COTTAGE

 BY

 EMMA C. DOWD

 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

 NEW YORK

 GROSSET & DUNLAP

 PUBLISHERS

 Made in the United States of America

COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY EMMA C. DOWD

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[Illustration: HAROLD WESTWOOD!]

 TO MY CRITIC, COUNSELOR AND COMRADE

CONTENTS

 I. THE ROSEWOOD BOX 1

 II. LEONORA'S WONDERFUL NEWS 12

 III. A WHIFF OF SLANDER 20

 IV. COUSINS 36

 V. A MONOPOLIST AND A FANFARON 46

 VI. "NOT FOR SALE" 66

 VII. THE BLIZZARD 73

 VIII. THE INTERMEDIATE BIRTHDAY PARTY 89

 IX. THE EIGHTH ROSE 105

 X. A VISIT FROM ERASTUS BEAN 119

 XI. UNCLE MAURICE AT LADY GAY COTTAGE 125

 XII. LITTLE CHRIS 138

 XIII. ILGA BARRON 152

 XIV. POLLY IN NEW YORK 165

 XV. AN UNEXPECTED GUEST 175

 XVI. ROSES AND THORNS 184

 XVII. A SUMMER NIGHT MYSTERY 194

 XVIII. AT MIDVALE SPRINGS 212

 XIX. TWO LETTERS 237

 XX. MRS. JOCELYN'S DINNER-PARTY 250

POLLY OF LADY GAY COTTAGE

CHAPTER I

THE ROSEWOOD BOX

The telephone bell cut sharp into Polly's story. 

She was recounting one of the merry hours that Mrs. Jocelyn had givento her and Leonora, while Dr. Dudley and his wife were taking theirwedding journey. Still dimpling with laughter, she ran across to theinstrument; but as she turned back from the message her face wastroubled. 

"Father says I am to come right over to the hospital, " she told hermother. "Mr. Bean--you know, the one that married Aunt Jane--has gothurt, and he wants to see me. I hope he isn't going to die. He wasreal good to me that time I was there, as good as he dared to be. "

"I will go with you, " Mrs. Dudley decided. 

And, locking the house, they went out into the early evening darkness. 

The physician was awaiting them in his office. 

"Is he badly hurt?" asked Polly anxiously. "What does he want to seeme for?"

"We are afraid of internal injury, " was the grave answer. "He was onhis way to you when the car struck him. "

"To me?" Polly exclaimed. 

"He was fetching a little box that belonged to your mother. Do yourecollect it--a small rosewood box?"

"Oh, yes!" she cried. "I'd forgotten all about it--there's a wreath oftiny pearl flowers on the cover!"

The Doctor nodded. 

"Mr. Bean seems to attach great value to the box or its contents. "

"Oh, what is in it?"

"I don't know. But he kept tight hold of it even after he was knockeddown, and it was the first thing he called for when he regainedconsciousness. I thought he had better defer seeing you untilto-morrow morning; but he wouldn't hear to it. So I let him have hisown way. "

"Have you sent word to Aunt Jane?" inquired Polly, instinctivelyshrinking from contact with the woman in whose power she had livedthrough those dreadful years. 

Dr. Dudley gave a smiling negative. "He begged me not to let herknow. "

"I don't blame him!" Polly burst out. "I guess he's glad to get awayfrom her, if he did have to be hurt to do it. "

"Probably he wishes first to make sure that the box is in your hands, "observed the Doctor, rising. "She will have to be notified. Come, wewill go upstairs. The sooner the matter is off Mr. Bean's mind, thebetter. "

Polly was dismayed at sight of the little man's face. In theirwhiteness his pinched features seemed more wizen than ever. But hissmile of welcome was eager. 

"How do you do, my dear? My dear!" the wiry hand was extended withevident pain. 

Polly squeezed it sympathetically, and told him how sorry she was forhis accident. 

Mr. Bean gazed at her with tender, wistful eyes. 

"My little girl was 'most as big as you, " he mused. "Not quite; shewasn't but six when she--went. But you look consider'ble likeher--wish't I had a picture o' Susie! I wish't I had!" He drew hisbreath hard. 

Polly patted the wrinkled hand, not knowing what to say. 

"But I've got a picture here you'll like, " the little man brightened. "Yer'll like it first-rate. "

His hand moved gropingly underneath the bed covers, and finallybrought out the little box that Polly instantly recognized. 

"Oh, thank you! How pretty it is!" She received it with a radiantsmile. 

Mr. Bean's face grew suddenly troubled. 

"Yer mustn't blame Jane too much, " he began pleadingly. "I guess shekind o' dassent give it to yer, so long afterwards. It's locked, "--asPolly pulled at the cover, --"and there ain't no key, " he mourned. "Ido' know what Jane's done with it. Yer'll have to git another, --therewa'n't no other way. " His voice was plaintive. 

"That's all right, " Polly reassured him. 

The pleasure of once more holding the little box in her hand wasenough for the moment. 

"I see it in her bureau drawer the day we was first married, " he wenton reminiscently, "an' she opened it and showed me what was in it. Ther' 's a picture of yer mother--"

"Oh!" Polly interrupted excitedly, "of mamma?"

"Yis, so she said. Looks like you, too, --same kind o' eyes. It wasgoin' to be for your birthday--that's what she had it took for, Janesaid. "

Polly had been breathlessly following his words, and now broke out insudden reproach:--

"Oh! why didn't Aunt Jane let me have it! How could she keep it, whenI wanted a picture of mamma so!"

The reply did not come at once. A shadow of pain passed over the man'sface, leaving it more drawn and pallid. 

"It's too bad!" he lamented weakly. "I tol' Jane so then; but shethought 'twould kind o' upset yer, likely, and so--" His voicefaltered. He began again bravely. "You mustn't blame Jane too much, mydear! Jane's got some good streaks, real good streaks. "

Polly looked up from the little box. Her eyes were wet, but she smiledcheerfully into the anxious face. 

"I ought not to blame her, now she's sent it, " she said sweetly; "andI thank you ever so much for bringing it. "

A hint of a smile puckered the thin lips. 

"Guess if I'd waited f'r her to send it, " he murmured, "'t 'ud beenthe mornin' Gabriel come! But Jane's got her good streaks, " heapologized musingly. 

Then he lay silent for a moment, feeling after courage to go on. 

"Ther' 's a letter, too, " he finally hazarded. "Jane said it was aboutsome rich relations o' yours some'er's--I forgit where. She saidlikely they wouldn't care nothin' 'bout you, seein' 's they never'dknown yer, and it would only put false notions into yer head, and soshe didn't"--he broke off, his eyes pleading forgiveness for the womanwhose "good streaks" needed constant upholding. 

But Polly was quite overlooking Aunt Jane. This astonishing bit ofnews had thrown her mind into a tumult, and she breathlessly awaitedadditional items. 

They were slow in coming, and she grew impatient. 

"What relatives are they?" she prodded. "Papa's, or mamma's?"

Mr. Bean could not positively say. He had not read the letter, andrecollected little that his wife had told him. 

"Seems kind o' 's if they was Mays, " he mused; "but I ain't nowayssure. Anyhow they was millionaires, Jane said she guessed, and she wasafraid 't 'ud spile yer to go and live with 'em, --"

At this juncture Dr. Dudley interposed, his fingers trying hispatient's pulse. 

"No more visiting to-night, " he smiled, yet the smile was grave and ofshort life. 

Polly went away directly, carrying the little rosewood box, afteragain expressing her grateful thanks to Mr. Bean. 

Down in the office her tongue ran wild, until her mother was quite asexcited as she. But there was a difference; Polly's wondering thoughtsflew straight to her lips, Mrs. Dudley's stayed in her heart, restlessand fearsome. 

Next morning the injured man seemed no worse, though the physiciansstill had grave doubts of his recovery. Dr. Dudley, while appreciatingMr. Bean's kind intentions towards Polly, and putting out of accountthe serious accident, grimly wished to himself that the little man hadsuffered the rosewood box to remain hidden in his wife's bureaudrawer. Of course, Polly was legally his own, yet these unknownrelatives of hers, --with what convincing arguments might they confronthim, arguments which he could not honestly refute! Yet he carried thebox to the locksmith's, and he conjectured cheerfully with Pollyregarding the contents of the letter. 

Late in the afternoon he put both box and key into Polly's hands. 

"Oh!" she squealed delightedly. "Have you opened it?"

"Most certainly not. That pleasure is left for you. "

She eagerly placed the key in the lock, and carefully raised thecover. 

A folded tissue paper lay on top, which she caught up, and thephotograph was disclosed. 

"Mamma!" she half sobbed, pressing the picture to her lips. 

But Dr. Dudley scarcely noticed her emotion, for the displacementof the card had revealed only an empty box--the letter was gone!He looked across at his wife, and their eyes met in perfectunderstanding. The moment they had both dreaded was postponed, andthey felt a sudden relief. Still, there had been a letter, the Doctorsilently reasoned, and sooner or later its contents must be faced. 

"See!" Polly was holding before him the portrait of a lovely, girlishwoman, with dark, thoughtful eyes and beautiful, curving mouth. 

"It looks just like her!" came in tremulous tones. "Isn't she sweet?"She leaned lightly against her father, drawing a long breath of joyand sorrow. 

As he threw his arm about her, the Doctor could feel her efforts to becalm. 

"But where's the letter?" she asked, with sudden recollection, turningfrom their satisfying praise of the one she loved, to gaze into theempty box. She regarded it disappointedly when she heard the truth. 

"Now I shan't ever know, " she lamented, "whether I have anygrandfather or grandmother, or uncles or aunts, --or anybody! And Ithought, may be, there'd be some cousins too! But, then, " she went oncheerfully, "it isn't as if the letter was from somebody I'd everknown. I'm glad it is that that's lost, instead of this, " clasping thephotograph to her heart. 

Mrs. Dudley glanced over to her husband. "Better not tell her!" hiseyes said, and her own agreed. It seemed that Polly did not dream ofwhat was undoubtedly the case, --that the letter was from her mother, written as a birthday accompaniment to the picture, and givinghitherto withheld information concerning her kindred. 

It was far better for Polly's peace of heart that the probable truthwas not even surmised, and presently she carried the photograph up toher own little room, there to feast her eyes upon the well-rememberedface until time was forgotten. 

CHAPTER II

LEONORA'S WONDERFUL NEWS

"Polly!"

Dr. Dudley waited at the foot of the short staircase. He had just comein from an early morning visit to a hospital patient. 

"Yes, father, " floated down to him, followed by a scurry of light feetin the corridor overhead. 

Directly Polly appeared at the top of the flight, one side of her hairin soft, smooth curls, the other a mass of fluffy waves. 

"Leonora sent word for you to come over 'just as soon as you possiblycan, '" smiled the Doctor. "She has something to tell you. "

"I don't see what it can be, " replied Polly. "Do you know, father?"

"You wouldn't wish me to rob Leonora of the first telling of hernews, " he objected. 

"No, " she admitted slowly; "but I can't imagine why she's in such ahurry. I wonder if she is to stay at the hospital longer than sheexpected--that isn't it, is it?"

Dr. Dudley shook his head. 

"My advice is to make haste with your toilet and run over to thehospital and find out. "

"Yes, " Polly agreed, "I will. " Yet she stood still, her foreheadpuckered over the possible good things that could have happened to herfriend. 

Dr. Dudley turned away, and then halted. 

"Isn't your mother waiting for you?" he suggested. 

"Oh, I forgot!" she cried, and flew back to where Mrs. Dudley sat, brush and comb in hand. 

"How my hair grows!" commented Polly, after discussing the newsawaiting her, and silently concluding that whatever her mother knewshe did not intend to disclose. "It will be a year next week since itwas cut. I shall have mermaid tresses before I know it. Isn't it nicethat I was hurt? Because if I hadn't been I should never have knownyou and father. Did you expect to marry him when he took you to rideon Elsie's birthday?"

"Of course not!" laughed Mrs. Dudley. "You were a roguish littlematch-maker!"

"I never thought of that, " returned Polly. "I only wanted you to havea good time. "

"I had it, " her mother smiled, tying a ribbon to hold the brightcurls. "There!" with a final pluck at the bow; "now run along and hearLeonora's glad story! I am afraid she will be getting impatient. "

As Polly skipped up to the hospital entrance, the door flew open, andLeonora, smiling rapturously, ran to meet her. 

"What is it?" entreated Polly. "I can't wait another minute!"

"Seem's if I couldn't, too! I thought you'd never come! What do youthink, Polly May Dudley! I'm goin' to live with Mrs. Jocelyn!--all thetime!--forever! She's adopted me!"

Polly stared, and then let out her astonishment in a big "O-h!" Thiswas, indeed, something unguessable. "Isn't that lovely!" she cried indelight. "I'm so glad!--just as glad as I can be!"

"Of course you are! Everybody is, " Leonora responded blissfully. Theywent in doors arm in arm, stopping in Dr. Dudley's office, theirtongues more than keeping pace with their steps. 

"I shouldn't think your father and mother would want to give you up, "observed practical Polly. 

"I guess they're glad, " Leonora replied. "Prob'ly I wouldn't go ifthey were my own; but I don't belong to them. "

"You don't?"

"Why, no. My mother died when I was three years old. I can only justremember her. In a little while father married again, and pretty soonhe died--he was awful good to me! I cried when they said he wasn'tgoin' to get well. Then my stepmother married Mr. Dinnan. So, you see, I ain't any relation really, and they're prob'ly glad not to have meto feed any more. And I guess I'm glad--my! But I can't b'lieve ityet! Say, I'm goin' to your school, and Mrs. Jocelyn is comin' to takeme out in her carriage this forenoon to buy me some new clothes!"

Polly's radiant face was enough to keep Leonora's tongue lively. 

"She's goin' to fix me up a room right next to hers, all white andpink! And she's goin' to get me a beautiful doll house and some newdolls--she says I can pick 'em out myself! And--what do youthink!--she said last night she guessed she'd have to get me a pair ofponies and a little carriage just big enough for you and me, and haveme learn to drive 'em!"

"O-h! won't you be grand!" beamed Polly. 

And then, while Leonora chattered on, came to her a picture of thatafternoon--so far away it seemed!--when she had been folded in Mrs. Jocelyn's arms, to be offered these same pleasures, and which she hadrefused for love of Dr. Dudley, although the thought of calling himfather had never then come to her. How glad she was that she had notmentioned this! She had always had an intuitive feeling that theconcern was Mrs. Jocelyn's, to be kept as her secret, and she hadtherefore been silent. Now Leonora need never know that she was"second choice. " Her friend's happy confidences recalled Polly'sstrolling thoughts. 

"I don't b'lieve you have any idea how perfectly splendid it makes mefeel to think I'm goin' to have that sweet, beautiful Mrs. Jocelyn formy own mother. " The last word was little more than a whisper. Leonora's dark eyes were luminous with joy. 

"Why, of course I know!" responded Polly. "You feel just as I did thatday father told me he was going to marry Miss Lucy, --I meanmother, --and I was to be their little girl. Don't you remember? I'dbeen for a visit to Mrs. Jocelyn's and brought home those presents, and Mary Pender thought I must have had such a good time because I wasso full of fun. "

"I guess I couldn't ever forget!" cried Leonora. "That lovely rose-budsash you gave me was the prettiest thing I ever had to wear in all mylife! And was that really the day you first knew about it?"

Polly nodded. 

"Queer!" Leonora went on. "There we both went to the hospital, youhurted so awful bad nobody s'posed you'd get well, and I so lame thateven Dr. Dudley thought I'd never walk straight! And now--my! ain'tit queer? We're adopted by the nicest folks, and I don't limp a mite!Just see how good I can walk!"

She skipped off gleefully, falling into a slow, regular pace acrossthe room. 

"That's beautiful!" praised Polly. "And it doesn't hurt you now, doesit?"

"Not a bit! Oh, it's so splendid that Dr. Dudley cured me!--why, there's David! No, don't go!" as Polly sprang up. "It isn't schooltime yet. "

The girls ran to the door, Leonora clutching her friend's arm, as ifresolved not to let her escape. 

"Your mother told me you were here, " David began. 

"She didn't tell you I was goin' to your school, did she?" laughedLeonora. 

"No! Honest?"

"Yes, honest!" they chorused mischievously. 

"There's something up!" David's head wagged knowingly. "What is it?"

He looked from Leonora to Polly, and back again. 

Then the delightful news could not be kept a minute longer, butbubbled forth from Leonora's lips, until the three were soon in atorrent of merry talk. 

David's interest fully satisfied the girls, which is saying much forit; but the clock ticked steadily on, regardless of adoptions, newclothes, and ponies. Happily there was a chance look across the room, which hurried Polly and David away to school and sent Leonora up tothe convalescent ward to make ready for her drive with Mrs. Jocelyn. 

CHAPTER III

A WHIFF OF SLANDER

Within a few days the little girl, who on the occasion of the ward'sanniversary had been afraid to speak to her beautiful benefactor, found herself established in the stately old house on Edgewood Avenue, and calling the same charming lady "mother. "

On the morning that Mrs. Jocelyn's man drove her across the city tothe private school which Polly and David attended, she was almost toojoyfully excited for comfort. To think that one of her most cherisheddreams was actually coming true!

Polly introduced her as, "My friend, Leonora Jocelyn, " which made thelittle dark face pink with pleasure, and nearly caught away theremnant of her self-possession. 

The girls and boys received her with polite attention or gushingcordiality, and she was beginning to calm into something like soberhappiness when Ilga Barron appeared. 

Ilga was short and plumpy, with pincushion legs, and feet that weretrained to dancing. The skirt of her dress was as brief as compatiblewith fashion, and she swung it with a superior air which abashed themeeker of her schoolmates. She greeted the new pupil with a nod and astare. 

"What's your father's business?" was her abrupt inquiry. 

"I haven't any father, " Leonora answered gently. 

"Oh! Where do you live?"

"On Edgewood Avenue. "

"Up opposite Edgewood Park?"

"Yes. "

"I thought that Mrs. Jocelyn hadn't any children, " scowled Ilga. 

"She has just adopted me, " Leonora explained shyly. 

"Oh!"

That was all, accompanied by a little toss of the head. Then Ilgawhirled away, calling on her favorite mate to follow. 

Leonora's face grew distressfully red, and her soft eyes suddenlybrimmed. 

For an instant Polly stood dazed; but quickly she commanded herscattered wits. 

"There's Lilith Brooks! I want you to know her, she is so sweet! Come, Leonora!" She threw her arm around her friend, and drew her away fromthe embarrassed group. 

"You mustn't mind Ilga!" she whispered. "Nobody does!"

Yet all that morning the impertinence of Senator Barron's onlydaughter occupied more of Polly's mind than her lessons, and at recessher indignant thoughts sprang into words. She went straight to whereIlga was entertaining two of her chosen intimates with chocolatecreams. 

"What did you mean by treating Leonora so rudely?" demanded Polly, threatening sparks in her usually gentle eyes. "She is my friend, andI wish to tell you that you mustn't ever act like that to her again!"

Ilga's box of sweets stopped on its polite way to the new-comer. 

"Huh!" sneered the owner of it, "if you think you are going to orderme round, you're mistaken! I guess I shan't associate with everytramp that comes along--so there, Polly Dudley!"

"Leonora isn't any more of a tramp than you are!" Polly burst outhotly. 

"No, she isn't--'than _you_ are!'" retorted Ilga, with sarcasticemphasis and a disagreeable laugh. 

Polly's eye blazed. She clinched her little fists. 

"And _you_ are too contemptible to--talk with!" she cried scornfully, and whirled away. 

But Ilga's instant rejoinder seemed to retard her feet, for she wasconscious of walking slowly, missing none of the words that bit intoher sensitive heart. 

"Oh! I am, am I? Well, _you_ are a regular nobody! You put on airsjust because Dr. Dudley adopted you; but he isn't anybody! He wouldn'tstay at the hospital for that little bit of a salary if he was. Hecan't get a place anywhere else--he's a no--body!"

Ilga knew her victim well enough to realize that any taunt flung atthe adored father would rebound upon his daughter with double force, and she winked exultingly to her companions as Polly made no attemptat retort, but went straight to her desk and bent her white, drawnlittle face over her speller. It would have given her an added delightif she had known that the book was upside down and its print blurredby a mist of tears. 

At the close of a session Polly usually waited for David; but thisnoon she hurried on alone, and he overtook her only after a quicklittle run. 

"This is great, to go off and leave a fellow!" he grumbled pleasantly. 

"Oh, excuse me!" she replied. "I forgot. "

"Forgot!" he began laughingly, but stopped. Her gravity did not invitehumor. 

He wondered what had gone wrong, but was wise enough to ask noquestions. After an ineffectual attempt at talk, they fell back intosilence, separating at the cottage entrance with sober good-byes. 

The kitchen door was unlocked, and Polly walked slowly through thehouse, longing yet dreading to meet her mother. Down the stairwaycame the sound of voices. She stopped to listen. 

"Oh, dear!--Miss Curtis!" she sighed, and turned towards the littlelibrary. 

Although since the recovery of Elsie's birthday ring the nurse hadbeen unusually kind and friendly, Polly could not help rememberingthat she had once believed her to be the cause of its mysteriousdisappearance, and just now it seemed impossible to meet her withcomposure. So she curled up forlornly in her father's big chair, hastily grabbing a book as an excuse for being there. 

The story was one she had never read, and its interest was proved inthat time and troubles were soon forgotten. Thus her mother found her, and thanks to the respite from Ilga's haunting words she was able torespond to the visitor's greeting with something of her usual happyhumor. 

Dr. Dudley had been unexpectedly called out of town, so the threedined together most unconventionally. The ladies talked over oldhospital days, and Polly, greatly to her relief, was left much toherself. But although she rarely joined in the converse, her thoughtswere not allowed to revert to their unpleasant channel, with theresult that when she returned to school things had regained a littleof their accustomed brightness, and she was ready to smile a greetingto her friends. 

But this happier mood vanished with the opening of the door into theschool dressing-hall. 

A group of girls were removing their wraps, among which was IlgaBarron. Two of them nodded carelessly to Polly, and then went ontalking in low tones, with side glances towards the new-comer. Pollyhurried off her coat and hat, but before they were on their hook Ilgabroke out in a loud whisper, plainly intended to carry across thehall:--

"Dr. Dudley don't know much anyway! He's got a sister that's anidiot--a real idiot! They have to keep her shut up!"

Even Ilga herself, turning to gloat over the effect of her words, wasso startled that she led the way quickly upstairs to the school room, leaving Polly standing there alone, her horrified brown eyes staringout of a colorless face. 

"What in the world's the matter?" cried Glen Stewart, appearing in theouter doorway, at the head of a string of girls. "Are you sick?"

"No--yes--oh, I don't know!" she stammered, catching her breathpiteously. 

They clustered around her, distressed and helpless. 

"Are you faint? I'll get you a drink!" And Lilith Brooks ran to fetcha glass. 

Polly drank the water, grateful for the kindness, although she wasaware of neither faintness nor thirst. Presently she went upstairswith her friends, and the long, dragging afternoon session began. 

Several times her recitations were halting, once woefully incorrect. The teacher in charge was about to reprove her for inattention; butthe wide, sorrowful eyes made an unconscious appeal, and the blunderwas suffered to pass unnoticed. 

Polly was glad with a dreary kind of gladness when the hour ofdismission came, and she hurried away by herself, intent only on arefuge where she should be alone and could think things out. She foundthe kitchen door locked and the key in its accustomed hiding-place;so she let herself in, knowing that her mother was not at home. Up inher own room she sat down by the low side window, and looked out onthe bare landscape of early December. 

Aimlessly she let her eyes wander over the desolate garden of the nexthouse, so recently robbed of all its greenery; then the muslin-drapedwindows opposite came within her vision. The caroling canary, in hislittle gilded prison, caught a glance, a frolicking squirrel runningan endless race in his make-believe home, a lady stitching on a pinkgown, and so towards the street. What she saw there made her start asif with pain. 

Up the sidewalk strolled a lad, "Foolish Joe" people called him, andhe was, as usual, accompanied by a little band of fun-loving, teasingboys. In a moment they were gone; but the shambling central figurewith its vacant face stayed with her to accentuate her distress. Sheleaned her head upon her arm, but she could not shut out the picture. 

Ilga's sneering phrases rang back and forth in her brain, until clearthought was impossible. 

"Lucy! Polly! Are you up there?"

She had not heard any one come in, and she started at sound of herfather's voice. Instead of answering she shrank back into her chair, involuntarily delaying the moment of meeting. 

Dr. Dudley was mounting the stairs, two steps at a time. 

"Well!" His tall figure filled the doorway. "Where is your mother?"

"I--don't know, " Polly faltered. "She's gone out--the door waslocked--maybe with Miss Curtis. Miss Curtis was here to dinner. "

"Was she!" And then, "I am going down to Linwood, and I thought youfolks would like the ride. We shall have to go alone, shan't we?"

Polly did not look up, --perhaps could not would be nearer the truth;but she rose instantly. 

The Doctor took a step forward, and tilted her chin upon his finger. 

In spite of her efforts to smile, her lip quivered. 

"You and David been having a quarrel?" he asked whimsically. 

"Oh, no, we never do!"

"Perhaps you missed a word in spelling?"

She shook her head, with a sober "No. "

"Geography, then?"

"Yes, I made a mistake, " she admitted. 

"I wouldn't worry over that. "

"No, oh, no!"

"Then that isn't it? How long are you going to keep me guessing?"

She hid her face against his coat. "Don't ask me, please!" she begged. 

"Is it as bad as that?" His tone would usually have sent her off in anamused chuckle; now she was miserably silent, pressing closer into thefriendly folds. 

"If it is an all-afternoon affair, we may as well sit down, " and, wheeling about, he took the chair she had just left, drawing her tohis knee. 

"Now let's look at this together, Thistledown. Two heads ought to bewiser than one, you know. Just give me a chance to show my skill athelping. "

"I--can't! It would make you feel bad--awfully bad!"

"Something you did at school? I promise my forgiveness. "

"Oh, no! I haven't done anything--only told Ilga Barron what I thoughtof her. And I'm glad I did!"

"That the pudgy girl we met the other day?--the one that didn't havecloth enough for a decent dress?"

In spite of herself, Polly let go a giggle with her assent. "Why, father, " she remonstrated, "she could have her skirts longer if shewanted to! She's Senator Barron's daughter!"

A quiver of laughter stirred the Doctor's face. 

"All right, we'll let the Senator's daughter wear her frocks as shortas she pleases. But what else has she been doing?"

"She said, " began Polly, "that you--oh, I can't!" She caught herbreath in a sob. 

"About me, was it? I see! You've been carrying a burden intended forme on your small shoulders, when mine are broad enough to bear awhole pack of abuse! Drop the load at once, Thistledown!"

Despite his tender humor, Polly detected in his voice a note ofcommand, and she strove to obey. 

"She said--that you--that you--were a nobody!"

"Is that all?" he laughed. "Well, so I am, measured by her standard, for I am neither a man of wealth nor an influential politician. But, Thistledown, don't you think you are a bit foolish to let that troubleyou?"

"There's something else, " she replied plaintively. 

"I am ready. "

"She told some girls--she meant I should hear--that--that your sisteris--an idiot!" The sentence ended in a wail. 

Dr. Dudley's arms tightened around the slender little figure, and fora moment he did not speak. 

When words came they were in a soft, sad voice. 

"I have no sister on earth. She went to Heaven two years ago. I willtell you about it. Until Ruth was six years old she was a bright, beautiful little girl, beloved by everybody. She was eight yearsyounger than I, and my especial pet. Then came the terrible fever, andfor days we thought she could not live. Finally she rallied, only forus to discover that we had lost her--her brain was a wreck. Thesemblance of Ruth stayed with us twelve years longer, until she waseighteen years old; then she went Home. That is undoubtedly thefoundation for Ilga's malicious little story; but, you see, Thistledown, there is no present cause for sorrow, only thankfulnessthat Ruth's journey is safely ended. We can remember her now for thedear child she was. "

Polly was crying softly on her father's shoulder. Presently sheasked:--

"May I tell Ilga?"

"I wouldn't bring up the subject. If it should ever be referred toagain, you might let her know the truth, as simply as possible; butsometimes things are better left unexplained. "

Polly was silent, and Dr. Dudley went on. 

"I think it will be well for you to keep out of the way of Miss Barronas much as you can. Should there be an opportunity for any littlekindness, do it unobtrusively and sweetly, as I know you would;otherwise give her a wide berth--she needs it. "

"I'll try to, " Polly agreed. "But, father, don't you really care'cause she called you that?"

"A nobody?" he smiled. "I should be one if I allowed it to annoy me. My little girl, I wish I could make you see how trivial, howinconsequent such things are. No human being is a 'nobody' who isfaithful to the best that is in him. It doesn't make much realdifference what people say of us, as long as we keep an honest heartand serve God and our fellow travelers according to our highestknowledge. Life is too brief to spend much thought on taunts orslander. We have too much else to do. I suppose it is scarcelypossible for a person that does anything worth doing to get throughlife without sometimes being talked about unpleasantly andmisrepresented. Do you know what Shakespeare says about that? 'Be thouas chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. '

"But there comes mother! Run, get your hat and coat, and we'll haveour ride. "

CHAPTER IV

COUSINS

Contrary to the physicians' fears, Erastus Bean's condition improvedday by day. Polly went often to see him, delighting the little manwith her small attentions and her ready sympathy. It was on a Mondaymorning that he found out the letter had been missing from therosewood box, and he was at once perturbed over the loss. 

"Jane must 'a' put it some'er's else, some'er's else, " he complained, over and over, although Polly begged him not to worry. 

"It doesn't matter so very much if I don't know who those relationsare, " she assured him, "and anyway we may find the letter sometime. "

"Yer don't s'pose the Doctor said anything to Jane about it?" hequeried suddenly, his eyes sharp with anxiety. 

"Oh, no! I guess not, " Polly replied easily. 

"Wal, yer won't let him, will yer?" he pleaded. "Cause I'll sure findit soon's I git home, an' Jane, she's kind o' cranky, yer know! Butshe's got her good streaks, Jane has! She brought me a bowl o' custardth' other day--that was proper nice o' Jane!" His wrinkled facelighted at remembrance of the unexpected kindness. 

Polly smiled in response, while she wondered vaguely if Aunt Janereally loved the little man whom she ordered about with the authorityof a mother. 

"It's too bad 'bout that letter, " Mr. Bean rambled on. "Yer'd ought tofind out who them relations be--an' 'fore they have time to die. Folksgo off so quick now'days, an' mebbe, if they only knew yer, they'dleave you some o' their prope'ty so's you could live like aqueen--ther' ain't no tellin'. "

"I don't b'lieve I'd like to live like a queen, " laughed Polly. "But, "she admitted, "I should love some own cousins. I wouldn't wonder ifyou'd find the letter when you go home. I feel just as if you would, and--oh, my! I didn't know it was so near nine o'clock!" as a distant_cling-clang_ made itself noticed. "That's the last bell! Good-bye!"And Polly whirled off, Mr. Bean gazing the way she went long after herblue plaid had vanished from his sight. 

Up the street she ran, fearful of being tardy, and slacking to a walkonly when a view of the downtown clock told her that she still hadtime to spare. 

Turning in at the side gate of the house where the school was kept, she saw a lady on the front porch. In the doorway beyond stood MissGreenleaf, the head teacher, with a girl--a very pretty girl of abouther own age. This was all she had time to observe before passing outof sight, on her way to the children's entrance. But a few words, caught just as she slipped by the house corner, stayed with her. 

"I am glad, Mrs. Illingworth, that you think--"

"Illingworth!" Polly repeated softly. "I never knew there were anyIllingworths in town. Mamma used to say there weren't. I wonder ifshe could be related--oh, I wonder!"

Having reached her seat, she began to watch the door for the newscholar. She tried to attend to the opening exercises, but found hereyes constantly reverting to the spot of fascination, until she grewstrangely excited. She really had not long to wait. Soon the girl wasushered quietly in and given a seat five desks away. Polly wished ithad been nearer. Then she might have been asked to show the new pupilabout some lesson, or to lend her a book. But she was at a convenientpoint for being observed, and that was a distinct advantage. 

The girl was a slight little thing, who carried herself gracefully, without bashfulness. Her soft brown hair, brushed smoothly back fromthe tanned oval face, fell in long, thick braids over the slimshoulders, and disappeared in crisp ribbon bows of the same color. Thedress was a simple affair of light blue wool, which fitted the wearerperfectly and gave her the air of being more richly clad than some ofthe girls whose frocks were of costlier material. 

Polly came near giving too much attention to these interestingdetails, but finally settled down to study in the contented beliefthat she was "going to like" the girl with the familiar name. Atrecess she would speak to her, and "get acquainted. " For two hoursthis was her fixed hope. Then, when the rest time came, before shecould make good her desire, she had the dissatisfaction of seeing thenew scholar walk away arm in arm with Ilga Barron, and she turned backto her desk with sober eyes and regret in her heart. 

"Isn't Patricia Illingworth lovely?" whispered a voice. 

Polly looked up, to see Betty Thurston. 

"Do you know her?" she questioned in surprise. 

"Of course not, " smiled Betty. "But I'm going to--if that hateful IlgaBarron doesn't monopolize her all the tune. "

"But how did you know what her name is?" persisted Polly. 

"Oh!" explained Betty, "I was up at Gladys Osborne's Saturday, spending the day, and Gladys's Aunt Julia was there there--she boardsat The Trowbridge, you know, and she told us all about theIllingworths. They board there, too, Patricia and her mother. Theyaren't stuck up a bit, though I guess they're awfully rich. They camefrom 'way out West--I forget the name of the place. It's wherePatricia's father's got a mine. And she hasn't ever been to schoolmuch, only studied with her mother, and rode horseback, and all that. Aunt Julia said she was coming to our school, and I think she'slovely; don't you?"

"Sweet as she can be!" agreed Polly. 

"I know why Ilga pounced on her so quick, " confided Betty. "I'll betshe heard me telling Lilith and some of the other girls that she wasrich, and that's just why. We were down in the dressing-room beforeschool. If it hadn't been for her we could have got acquainted thismorning. "

"Well, there are more days coming, " laughed Polly philosophically. "That's what mother always tells me, when I want to do a thing rightthen, and can't. "

The talk passed to other matters, yet the eyes of both girls followedthe new pupil as she and her companion strolled from room to room ofthe little suite. Here and there they would pause for a few words withsome of Ilga's friends, or to look from a window, and then move onagain. The Senator's daughter was assuredly doing the honors for theentire school. 

Polly and Betty laid plans for "the next time, " but Polly kept hersecret hope close hidden in her heart, not disclosing it even to Davidon the way home. 

Neither did she let it be known to father or mother. 

"Prob'ly Patricia isn't related to me at all, " she argued to herself. "It is silly to think anything about it. "

Yet the subject was still present in her thoughts at the beginning ofthe afternoon session, and she wondered when the opportunity that shelonged for would appear. It came soon, and not at all according to herconjectures. 

School was dismissed in order of deportment marks, those who stoodhighest for the day passing out ahead. Among this small number wasPolly. When she reached the street door she was dismayed to see thatit was raining, and she stood hesitant on the sill, having neitherraincoat, overshoes, nor umbrella. Indifferently she noticed alimousine waiting at the curb, and wondered for whom it had been sent. 

"I think you go my way, " spoke a clear voice behind her. "May I takeyou home?"

Polly turned quickly, to look into the gray eyes of PatriciaIllingworth. 

"Oh, thank you!" was the smiling response. "I didn't know it wasraining until just this minute. "

Before she had time for more, the other had caught her arm, and shewas being escorted to the street under Mrs. Illingworth's green silkumbrella. Then she was seated beside Patricia, and they were glidingalong the road. Even in her delighted surprise the thought that allday had been uppermost pushed itself to her lips. But it was Patriciathat spoke first. 

"I have been wanting to know you ever since I first spied you thismorning, " she beamed. "I was in the front door when you were going inat the side. I knew we'd be friends right away. "

Polly looked her pleasure. 

"And I've been longing to get acquainted with you, " she confessed. "Itwas partly on account of your name. That was mamma's name too, --shewas Phebe Illingworth. "

"Why, isn't that fine!" exclaimed Patricia. "I'm going straight tolook in papa's Genealogy, just as soon as I get home, and see if we'rerelated! Wouldn't it be grand if we are?"

She squeezed Polly rapturously. 

Then the car stopped at Dr. Dudley's door. 

"My grandfather's name was Rufus Illingworth, " added Polly to herthanks. "Oh, I do hope we are cousins!" she smiled. "I've been wishingand wishing for ever so long that I had a cousin, and it will belovelicious if you should turn out to be one. "

With earnest good-byes the new friends separated, and from the shelterof the piazza Polly answered the salute of the little hand at thelimousine window as long as she could see it. 

There was no holding back this time. The story of the day, or theportion of it occupied by Patricia Illingworth, was related indetail, both in Mrs. Dudley's room before tea and at the tableafterwards, as the Doctor was kept busy at the hospital until sixo'clock. 

They were through with the meal, and Polly was helping her mothercarry the dishes into the kitchen, when the telephone called thephysician from the room. In a moment he was back. 

"Your new friend is holding the wire for you, " he told Polly. And sheran, her heart happy and fearful all at once. 

"That you, Polly? Oh, say, we are cousins--third cousins! Isn't thatgreat?"

"Beautiful!" responded Polly. 

"We had the longest time finding the book! I was afraid we'd left itin Nevada, and mamma was too; but it was 'way down in the bottom of atrunk. Do say you're glad, and say it good and strong, so I'll knowyou mean it! I couldn't wait till to-morrow! I hope I haven't botheredyour father. "

Polly's reply seemed fully to satisfy the other end of the line, and, with a good-night and a promise to be early at school the nextmorning, she hung up the receiver. 

CHAPTER V

A MONOPOLIST AND A FANFARON

On their way to school Polly and David were joined by Patricia; butsoon afterwards the lad courteously excused himself, to run across thestreet to see an acquaintance. 

"Nice boy, isn't he?" observed Patricia. 

"He's lovely, " praised Polly, but she scowled a little, her eyesfollowing David. "I wish he hadn't gone off so quick, " she addedregretfully; "I wanted you to know each other. "

"I like him, " admired Patricia, "and I like my new cousin, " shegiggled, squeezing Polly's arm, "I just love her!"

So for the moment David was forgotten, and the boy, viewing them froma little distance behind, saw them enter the school yard in high glee. Laughter was far from his face as he followed. He wished that PatriciaIllingworth had stayed in Nevada. 

At the foot of the staircase the two girls met Ilga Barron. TheSenator's daughter instantly seized upon Patricia with a playfulreprimand. 

"You ran away from me last night!"

"Yes, I went to carry my cousin home, " retorted Patricia roguishly. 

"Who, I'd like to know? Nobody in this school!"

"Yes, she's right here!" laughed the other, enjoying Ilga's puzzledstare. "Allow me to present my cousin, Polly Dudley!" She drew Pollyforward. 

"Huh, not much! You can't make me swallow that!"

"It's true! Isn't it, Polly? We're third cousins! I found it in theGenealogy last night! Her mother was an Illingworth!"

Ilga's face lighted. 

"Oh, you're 'way off!" she broke out. "She isn't related to her motherat all. She's only an adopted child. "

"But I mean her real mother!" returned Patricia indignantly. "Her ownmother was Phebe Illingworth, and was second cousin to my father--asif I didn't know!"

"I don't care!" Ilga retorted. And she ran up the stairs. 

Some of the girls, standing by, snickered; but Polly and Patriciagazed soberly at each other. Then they walked over to the rows ofhooks, unbuttoning their coats as they went. 

"I think Ilga Barron's just horrid!" whispered Patricia. "I didn'tlike her yesterday, and to-day I hate her!"

"Oh, you mustn't!" objected Polly. 

"Why not?"

"Because we ought to love everybody, I s'pose, " Polly answered slowly. 

"Do you love her?" demanded Patricia. "Do you, honest?"

Polly shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't now, " she admitted; "butmaybe I can some time. "

Patricia laughed. "I don't b'lieve I shall--ever, " she declared; "youcan love her enough for us both. "

A flock of girls came in from outside, and confidences were hushed, the two presently going upstairs arm in arm. 

"Don't forget that you are to go home with me right after schoolto-night!" whispered Patricia, just before they reached the upperdoor. 

"I couldn't, " was the smiling answer. And Polly went to her seat, still thinking of the pleasure ahead. 

At noon David lingered behind until the girls were gone, and hurriedoff in advance of them on the way back, trying to satisfy hisconscience with the argument that they wouldn't want him "tagging onanyway. " So the new friends were left for the greater share of thewalk quite to themselves, Polly, when not too much interested in talesof the pet broncho back in Silverton, keeping a lookout for David, andwondering where he could possibly be. She even went so far as to wish, away down in her secret heart, that David were going with her on thefirst visit to her new cousin. 

Opening from the principal schoolroom was a deep, narrow closet wherethe working supplies were kept. To reach the shelves at the back onemust pass through the pinched little door, an easy matter for a spritelike Polly, who flitted in and out at any angle; but an occasionalplump pupil was obliged to slip in sideways or be unpleasantlysqueezed. 

The afternoon was half through when extra paper was needed, and MissCarpenter, an assistant teacher, asked Ilga Barron to fetch some. 

"One of those large packages on the third shelf, " she explained, asthe girl started. 

Strangely enough, Ilga had never been to the closet, and wasunprepared for its cramped dimensions. A bit elated with theimportance of her errand, she went heedlessly forward, bumpingagainst the mouldings as she entered, and flushing with vexation onhearing a giggle from one of the boys. In her confusion she grabbedtwo packages instead of one, and attempted to make her exit; but toher dismay she found that with the bulky parcels in her arms thereturn passage was to be difficult if not impossible. Scarlet withmortification, yet holding blindly to her bundles, she twisted thisway and that, while the children, bubbling with suppressed mirth, watched her breathlessly. To add to her discomfiture, severaldistinguished-looking visitors were approaching from the next room, whither the teacher had gone to meet them, and Polly, throbbing withsympathy, saw that she was on the verge of tears. 

Suddenly, with no thought save of Ilga herself, Polly sprang to herfeet, and running lightly over to the prisoner put out her hands forthe parcels. But Ilga, misinterpreting the motive, drew back in anger, muttering something about wishing "folks would mind their ownbusiness. " Polly, however, loyal to her aim, followed into the closet, and in an earnest whisper urged the other to give up the paper, thatshe might pass out in freedom. Finally, just as Miss Carpenterappeared, to learn the cause of the commotion, Ilga emerged, red-facedand sullen. 

"What is all this fuss about? Polly, how came you here withoutpermission?"

"To help Ilga, " she faltered. 

"I have never known a girl to need assistance in getting a ream ofpaper, " the teacher replied severely, "especially so big a girl asIlga. "

A titter ran through the room, and an uncontrollable smile flickeredon Polly's lips. 

Nettled by this show of levity, for which she discerned no cause, MissCarpenter's sentence upon the supposed culprit was instant andmerciless. 

"Go to your seat, and stay there until six o'clock!"

Hands waved frantically, David's and Patricia's wildly beat the air;but the young teacher either was too much occupied with her visitorsor did not choose to notice, and the would-be defenders were sooncalled to recitation. 

Polly sat still in her chair, dazed by the suddenness and injustice ofit. She had meant only to spare Ilga further mortification--and hadlost her expected treat. She took up her history with a long sigh. 

It was a weary afternoon, and not alone to Polly. The children weredistraught and restless, and things went wrong. The bell for dismissalstruck a note of relief. 

Polly had a faint, a very faint hope that Ilga would explain thematter, and she watched her furtively as she passed out; but theSenator's daughter walked straight by the teacher's desk withoutturning her head, and as Polly saw her plump figure disappear in thestairway she went back to her examples, philosophically thinking that, at any rate, she could get her lessons for the next day, and so havethe evening free to enjoy with mother. If there were a best to anysituation, Polly was sure to find it. 

But to-night clouds gathered early about the sun, and presently theschoolroom grew dusky. Soon it was too dark to read, and with regretPolly shut her book. She looked at her little watch which she usuallywore, the "wedding" gift of Colonel Gresham, and was surprised to findit to be after five. She did not put it directly back in its pocket, but held it in her hand, fingering it lovingly, thinking of David'suncle, and then of the "stormy midnight" and the "sunshiny morning"which the little timepiece commemorated. 

So absorbed was she that the opening of the door caused her to start;but she smiled when she recognized through the dimness Miss Cordelia, the younger of the two Townsend sisters who kept the school. 

"My dear, " exclaimed Miss Cordelia's soft voice, "I am so sorry thishas happened. David Collins has been telling me how it was. "

"David?" repeated Polly in a glad tone. "But, Miss Cordelia, I wentwithout permission. "

"Yes, dear; but a kind action is its own excuse. You were doubtlessthinking only of Ilga. "

"That's every single thing I thought of, " Polly assured her. "Itseemed funny she didn't put the paper out first and then come herself;but I s'pose she was flustered and didn't think. I felt so sorry forher, and the next thing I knew I was racing over there. I didn't meanto break the rule, truly I didn't, Miss Cordelia!"

"I can easily believe you, dear, and I am sure Miss Carpenter was notintentionally unjust. She could not have understood. Somebody said shewas not feeling well, and that she went home directly after school. She must have forgotten what she told you; her memory is treacherousat times. Please say to your father and mother, dear, that my sisterand I are very much grieved over the occurrence, and that we shallendeavor to let nothing of the kind ever happen again. We will havethat closet door widened; it has made too much trouble already. Rundown to David now; he is waiting for you. " And with a kiss from thestately little lady Polly was dismissed. 

David was found on the walk leading from the pupils' entranceexecuting a double shuffle, to keep his feet warm, for the air wasgrowing keen. 

"Well! you've got here at last!" he cried. 

"It's awfully good of you to wait for me, " she crooned, skipping intostep. 

"Pretty queer if I hadn't waited! I'd have got you off sooner, onlythe maid said they had company, and I didn't want to butt in. So Ijust ran home and to your house, to tell them how it was--while I waswaiting for those folks to go. I guess that maid thought I was in amighty hurry to see Miss Townsend, for I kept running round to thekitchen to know if the coast was clear. "

"What a lot of trouble I've made you!" Polly lamented. 

"Trouble nothing!" he scouted. "But whatever did you do it for? Thatgirl!--with all the mean things she's said! And away she stalked afterschool, as disdainful as ever!"

"I know, " Polly admitted mournfully. "But I was so sorry for her--itmust have been dreadful!"

"Sorry!" David chuckled. "It was too funny!"

Polly laughed, too, reminded of the ridiculous sight. Then she sighed. "I was awfully disappointed, " she went on. "For a minute, when MissCarpenter told me to stay, I thought I just couldn't stand it. Ididn't dare look at Patricia, for fear I'd cry. "

"Don't see what she had to do with it!" growled David. 

"Why, I was going home with Patricia right after school. Mrs. Illingworth had invited me to tea. "

"M-m!" responded David

"I want you to know Patricia, " Polly continued; "she's such a deargirl. "

"Must be!" he retorted sarcastically. "So kind to go off and leaveinvited company as she did! She never waited a minute!"

"Well, but, David, what good would it have done? They board, you know, and couldn't wait tea for me. "

"M-m, " remarked David. 

"I don't see why you feel so about Patricia, " Polly began. 

"I haven't any use for a girl broncho-buster!" he broke out. 

"David Collins!"

"Well, " he replied, in a half-ashamed tone, "she rides bronchos, doesn't she? I heard her telling you about being on a broncho thatstood right up on his hind feet, and cut up like sixty!"

"Oh, yes, that was a horse she didn't know about till she got on him!But he couldn't throw her! She kept her seat! Wasn't that splendid!"

"Splendid!" he scorned. "It's just as I said--she's a--"

"She is not!" Polly burst out indignantly. "It just happened thatonce. She's got a lovely little horse that she rides, and he's asgentle as can be. She isn't--that! I shouldn't think you'd say suchthings about my cousin. " Polly's voice was tearful. 

"I d'n' know's cousins are any better 'n other folks, " he growled. 

"Oh, David!" she protested. Then her face suddenly lighted. "You'renot afraid I'll think more of her than I do of you, are you? David, isthat it?" as he did not answer. "Why, David Collins, " she went on, thewords tumbling out tempestuously, "how foolish you are! I couldn't!You ought to know! There we were at the hospital together for so long, till it seemed just like one family, and Colonel Gresham your uncle, and all! Why, David, I don't see what makes you feel so! You never didabout Leonora. "

"That's different, " he mumbled. "You didn't run off with her, andleave me to tag!"

"Why, I don't! I want you to come, too! Patricia thinks you're sonice--she said so. "

"She doesn't know me. "

"Enough to like you. I thought we could be friends all together. " Thetone was plaintive. 

"Well, " he conceded. 

"You know I like you, David, and always shall, no matter how manyother friends I have. It was lovely of you to wait for me to-night andto go and tell Miss Cordelia about it--I never shall forget that!"

They had reached the home cottage, and were passing up the walk. 

"I guess I wanted to be a monopolist, " confessed David. 

"A what?" cried Polly. David's long words often puzzled her. 

He laughed. "Oh, I wanted you all to myself!" he explained. "I'm a piganyway!"

"No, you're not!" declared Polly. 

He turned quickly. "Good-night! I'll be on hand to-morrow morning. "

And Polly knew that David had been won over. 

True to his promise, he called early for his old chum, and accompaniedher and Patricia to school, showing only the merry, winsome side ofhis nature, and making Polly proud to own him for a friend. 

In the hallway the boys laid hold of him, and carried him offupstairs, where a group of lads, with heads together, whispering andsnickering, surrounded one of the desks. 

"What are they up to?" queried Patricia, watching them furtively. "Vance Alden is reading something from a piece of paper--hear themlaugh!"

"Poetry, probably, " guessed Polly. "He's the greatest boy for writingpoetry. He wrote his composition, one week, all in rhyme. "

At recess the secret was soon made known. A long row of boys, arm inarm, marched across the recitation room, singing this bit ofdoggerel:--

 "Ilga Barron, The great fan_fa_ron, Went into the closet one day; But she was so stout She couldn't get out, And there she had to sta-ay! And there she had to stay!"

Ilga and several other girls, who were drawing on the blackboard, hadstopped when the boys formed in line, to see what they were going todo, and as the singing went on they stood as if dazed; but at thelast, fairly realizing the indignity, Ilga sprang forward, crimsonwith anger. 

"I didn't! I didn't!" she cried. "You mean, mean things!"

Instantly the line rounded into a circle, with the girl inside, andthe boys, bowing low, began:--

 "Behold your escort home this noon! And on the way we'll sing this tune, --

 Ilga Barron, The great fan_fa_ron, --"

They got no further, for the prisoner, with a dash and a scream, bursther bars, and fled to the next room, followed by a laughing chorusfrom her tormentors. 

Polly was distressed. 

"I should think you'd be ashamed, " she declared, "to treat a girl inthat way!"

The boys grinned. 

"She deserves it!" spoke up Floyd Bascom. 

"Yes, look at her last night!" cried Prescott Saunders. "Never said aword, and let you bear all the blame!"

"An' see the way she's been actin' to you all along!" put in PeterAnderson. 

"I know, " returned Polly sadly; "but it isn't fair to sing that toher. "

"Why not? Why do you care?" It was Vance Alden that questioned. Therest were still, awaiting Polly's answer. 

"I'm sorry for her. I know how things hurt. "

But the boys only laughed, and began again the taunting song. Theywere resolved to have their fun. 

"It is kind of mean, isn't it?" commented Patricia, as she and Pollyand Leonora walked back into the schoolroom. 

"I wish they wouldn't, " scowled Polly, glancing across to Ilga's desk, where she was in excited conversation with three or four girls. 

"What does fanfaron mean?" questioned Leonora. 

"I don't know, " answered Polly. "Let's find out!"

Patricia was first at the dictionary, and turned quickly to the word. 

"It means, 'A bully; a hector; a swaggerer; an empty boaster, '"reading from the page. 

Polly looked over. 

"Fan"--she began, "why, they haven't got it right! It isn't fan_fa_ronat all, the accent is right on the first syllable, and _fan_farondoesn't rhyme a bit! Oh, just you wait!" and she walked quietly away. 

Patricia and Leonora followed at a little distance. 

Polly went straight to the author of the ditty. There was no distressin her face now. Her eyes were twinkling. 

"If I could write as good poetry as you do, " she dimpled, "and Iwanted to use uncommon words, I think I'd make sure that the accentwas right, and that they rhymed. "

"Wha' do you mean?" he frowned. 

Polly laughed, and ran away. 

"There's only one uncommon word in it, " mused Vance. "I supposed thatwas--"

"Those girls have been looking in the dictionary, " suggested AmosRand. "I saw them there a minute ago. "

"I'll find out!" cried Vance. 

Two or three sprang to accompany him. 

"You stay here!" he commanded, waving them back. 

He returned talking with Polly. 

"Have you told Ilga?" he asked. 

"Of course not, " she answered. 

"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, " hefretted. "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 tosing 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 singleperson, 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 theword in the dictionary, for Vance Alden is so sensitive about amistake. It is funny! Ilga--why, she'd never know whether it was goodrhyme or metre or anything! But Vance didn't think of that. Nowpromise, both of you, that you won't ever tell!"

CHAPTER VI

"NOT FOR SALE"

"Will your father be at home this evening?" Patricia inquired ofPolly, as they left school together. The tone was eager. 

"Not all the time. He is due at the hospital at seven o'clock, and wenever 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; ifthere 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 somevery 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 itwould!"

"Is it a secret?" asked Polly, her curiosity aroused. 

"Yes, a great secret! I promised mamma, fair and square, that Iwouldn't tell you; but I want to awfully!"

"I guess we'd better not talk about it, then, because you might let itout. "

"Oh, you darling!" cried Patricia, squeezing Polly's arm. "I do wish Icould tell you right now! Aren't you aching to know?"

"Why, you make me want to, " laughed Polly; "but if it is your mother'sprivate business, of course--"

"It isn't!" broke in Patricia, a-giggle. "It's about you--oh, Imustn't!" She clapped her hand over her mouth. 

"Me?" Polly's eyes grew round with wonder. "But, oh, do stop talkingabout 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 themultiplication table, if you knew!"

"Don't!" begged Polly, and stopped her ears, beginning to tell of ahappening in the Latin class. By the time the little cottage wasreached they were chatting gayly about school matters. 

Mrs. Illingworth and Patricia spent the hour from eight to nine withPolly and her mother; but Dr. Dudley did not return from the hospital, and the mysterious "business" was not mentioned. Polly went to sleepthat night wondering what it could be. 

The next afternoon when she came from school she found her father andmother in the living-room. There was a note of tenseness in theatmosphere. Polly felt it vaguely as she threw off hat and coat. Shewent over to her mother with a caress, and Mrs. Dudley drew her downinto her lap. 

"I had a call from Mrs. Illingworth this afternoon, " began the Doctor. 

Polly was instantly eager. 

"About the business?" she asked. 

"Yes. "

She gazed at him wistfully, her heart in her eyes. 

"Your mother will tell you about it, " he said, rising from his chair. 

"No, no, Robert!" protested his wife. "Stay and tell her yourself!"

Polly looked from one to the other. Was it something dreadful, thismysterious "business"? They smiled, to be sure, but not at all as ifthey felt merry. 

Dr. Dudley sat down again, and leaned forward, his arms upon hisknees. 

"Patricia wants you for her sister, " he announced. 

"That's queer!" Polly puckered her forehead. "I don't see why it isn'tenough for me to be a cousin. "

"But they would like you to come and live with them, and--"

"Well, I shan't!" she burst out. "The idea! They might know Iwouldn't. Did you s'pose I'd want to?" she queried. "Did you, mother?"

Mrs. Dudley shook her head. 

"Let me tell you what Mrs. Illingworth says, " the Doctor went on. "Shethinks she can give you greater advantages than I can--of education, society, and travel. "

"Travel!" Polly cried scornfully; "I don't want to travel anywhere!Why isn't Miss Townsend's school as good for me as it is for Patriciaand David? And I guess society at The Trowbridge isn't any better thanit is here!"

The Doctor and his wife laughed. Mrs. Dudley's arms tightened theirclasp. 

"You haven't heard all, " the Doctor resumed. "Mrs. Illingworth offersyou a thousand dollars, to use exactly as you choose, if you willcome. "

The indignant blood rushed to Polly's fair face. 

"Do I look as if I were for sale?" she demanded. "Do I?"

Mrs. Dudley drew her down for a kiss and a "Polly, darling!"

"I haven't noticed any price tag, " her father responded, twinkling. 

"Well, " between a sob and a chuckle, "I think I'll tie a card round myneck, and print on it, 'Not for sale. ' As if money'd make up for youand mother!" She hid her face on the snug shoulder. Then she poppedup. 

"How would the minister like it, if you should go to him and say, 'Here, I want your wife' (I heard you tell mother, the other day, thatyou thought she was beautiful), 'and I'll give you a thousand dollarsif you'll let me have her!' How do you think he'd like that?"

"Not a bit!" laughed the Doctor. "He might knock me down. "

"He ought to!" asserted Polly. "And I don't like it any better than hewould. Mrs. Jocelyn didn't offer me money, but 'twas just the same. Idon't want to be bought!" She turned suddenly. "You don't think Iought to go, do you, mother?"

"No, indeed!" The tone was emphatic enough to satisfy Polly. "If youwent I think I should have to go, too!"

"When I go, we'll all go!" declared Polly, "and you can tell Mrs. Illingworth that. " Which sent the Doctor off smiling. 

Polly cuddled down contentedly in her mother's arms. 

"I'm sorry for Patricia, " she sighed. 

Mrs. Dudley knew Polly, and waited. 

"I suppose Mrs. Illingworth is very nice, " she went on, a momentafter; "but she isn't cuddly, like you. I asked Patricia once if shedidn't sit in her mother's lap, and she said no, she was too big agirl. She is hardly any taller than I am. She didn't say it a bit asif she thought so herself. I guess her mother doesn't want herbeautiful dresses mussed up--that's it! I love Patricia, but, oh, I'mglad I am not going to live with them!"

Mrs. Dudley bent her head, and whispered soft words of caress, grateful that to Polly it was given to weigh the things of life in atrue balance. 

Patricia mourned with many words over Dr. Dudley's refusal of hermother's offer; but the friendship of the new cousins was notlessened, and they were often at each other's homes. 

CHAPTER VII

THE BLIZZARD

On a gray morning in early February Dr. Dudley started for New York. 

"I shall probably be back on the nine o'clock train, " he told hiswife; "but the paper says there is a big snowstorm on the way, and forfear I may be delayed I have left word for Joe to come and fill up theheater. " Joe was a boy that did odd jobs about the house, and wasfamiliar with the heater. "He will probably be here early in theevening, " the Doctor went on; "but I can see to it again when I gethome. "

Polly went to school with the snowflakes flying around her. Patriciaovertook her on the way. 

"Where's David?" she asked. 

"He has a cold, and isn't coming, " Polly replied. "He telephoned overjust now. "

"Oh, that's too bad!" lamented Patricia. "I had set my heart on havingyou and him this afternoon. Cousin Lester and Aunt Florence arecoming from Nevada. Mamma heard last night. He is your cousin, too, same as I am. You'll like him; Lester's all right! He is just David'sage--it is a shame David can't come! Won't your mother let you stayhome from school? I'm going to. "

"I don't know, " said Polly. "Wouldn't after do?"

"Not enough time, " Patricia declared. "I want you and Lester to getwell acquainted; he is the nicest boy you ever saw!"

"Except David. "

Patricia laughed. "I guess you won't except anybody when you've seenLester. Well, make your mother let school go for once!"

"I'll ask her, " Polly promised. 

"Tease!" urged Patricia. "Tease like everything!"

Polly said nothing; but there were twinkles in her brown eyes. 

When school was dismissed, the storm was increasing, and Polly rodehome beside her cousin in the limousine. 

She found the back door unlocked, but the kitchen was empty, and therewere seemingly no preparations for dinner. She hastened from room toroom, and finally went upstairs. 

"What is the matter?" she asked in dismayed tone, for her mother waslying on her bed, white with suffering. 

"It came on suddenly--this pain. " She put her hand to her forehead, moaning. 

Polly stood quite still, distress in her face. She waited until thespasm had passed, and then said gently, "Can't I get you something?"

"No. It is that neuralgia over my eye. I have had it before, but neverlike this. The medicine doesn't seem to take hold. If it isn't bettersoon, I'll have to try something else. "

"I wish father were home. Shan't I call Dr. Rodman?"

"Oh, no! It is growing easier. Run down and eat your dinner; I left itin the oven. "

"Have you had yours?"

"All I want. "

Polly lingered, irresolute, her anxious eyes on her mother's face. 

Mrs. Dudley smiled faintly. "Go, dear. There is nothing you can do forme. "

Polly ate a scant meal, and washed the few dishes. Then she thought ofPatricia. Softly shutting the door of the living-room, she went to thetelephone. 

Patricia herself answered. 

"I'm awfully sorry, " Polly told her, "but I can't come. "

"Oh, Polly Dudley!" Patricia broke in, "you said you would!"

"Mother is sick, " Polly explained, "and I mustn't leave her. "

"Can't she stay alone? I shouldn't think she'd mind. You ask her. Oh, you must come! Mamma'll send for you, and you can stay all night. Yourfather'll be home then. Say, run and see if your mother won't let youcome! I'll hold the wire. "

"I can't, Patricia. You don't know how sick mother is. I wouldn'tleave her for anything. "

"Oh, botheree! You've just gone and spoiled all my good time!"

Polly heard the receiver slammed on its hook. She sat for a minutewondering if she could say anything to amend matters, but finallyturned away. Patricia's vexation was never lasting. 

She listened at the foot of the stairs, and then tiptoed up. Hermother lay as if asleep, and she crept noiselessly into her own room. 

Outside the prospect was cheerless. Few people and fewer teams wereabroad. Wind and snow were in command, beating the window panes, thrashing the bare trees, whirling round house corners with a shriekand a roar. Polly turned from the cold tumult feeling strangelydesolate. She read and wandered about by turns, wondering if everthere were any other afternoon so long. At last a sound from hermother's room sent her thither. Mrs. Dudley was sitting on the edge ofthe bed. 

"Is it worse?" Polly faltered. 

A murmured affirmative was the only answer. 

"I wish you would go to the medicine closet, " her mother said feebly, when the pain had lessened, "and get a little round bottle at theright-hand end of the second shelf. "

Polly was off like a sprite, barely waiting for directions. 

"Yes, this is the one. " Mrs. Dudley drew the cork hesitatingly. 

"I thought I could do without it, " she sighed, "but the pain isgrowing worse--I must have something. "

She bade Polly crush one of the tablets, and two small pills fromanother bottle, making a powder of the three. 

"Your father would have given me this before now if he had been here, "she smiled. 

"Why don't you want to take it?" queried Polly. 

"I always put off anodynes as long as possible. But I will not take alarge dose. "

"Will it hurt you?" Polly's face was anxious. 

"Oh, no! it will stop the pain. But how is it that you are home fromschool so early? It is not three o'clock, is it?"

"It is after four. But I didn't go this afternoon. I wouldn't leaveyou all alone; besides, it is snowing hard. "

"Oh, is it snowing! Well, I'm glad you stayed at home. Poor littlegirl! you are having a dreary time. " She clasped Polly's hand withgentle pressure. 

"I don't mind, if you could only be well. " Polly's voice almost broke. 

"Don't worry! I'm easier now. Perhaps I can go to sleep. "

Cautiously she laid her head on the pillow that Polly had made plumpand smooth, and was soon so quiet that the small nurse could not besure whether she were sleeping or not. The rooms were fast growingshadowy, and Polly felt that the lights would be company, so she litthe gas upstairs and down, turning it low in her mother's room. Thenfetching her doll, she took a low rocker, and blue-eyed Phebe andbrown-eyed Polly sat down to watch. 

There was a stir on the bed. Phebe's eyes were wide open, but she madeno sign when the sick woman rose totteringly to her feet. Polly's eyeswere shut tight, and her breathing soft and slow. She was dreaming ofColonel Gresham and his beautiful Lone Star, when she awoke with astart to find the bed empty and uncertain footsteps in the hall. Leaping to her feet, and dropping Phebe with no ceremony, she boundedto the head of the stairs, where her mother wavered on the top step. Catching her gently, in a voice not quite steady, she asked:--

"Where are you going?"

"Oh, I thought I'd go down--and help you wash the dishes!" Mrs. Dudleyreplied. "Poor child! you've had all the work to do. "

"The dishes are all washed, " Polly assured her, "and I am not tired. Hadn't you better lie down again before the pain comes on?"

The sick woman suffered herself to be led back to the bed, where shesat for a moment in silence. 

"I'll wipe the dishes for you, " she murmured, and began fumbling inher lap. "Where are they?" she asked bewilderedly. "They are nothere. "

"I put them up in the china closet, " Polly answered. "Please lie down!I will call you if I need your help. "

At last she was on her pillow, and for a time lay quiet. 

Polly lingered near, affright in her heart, Oh, if her fatherwere only there! For a long time she dared not move, but stood andwatched the quiet face. Then, suddenly, the lips began to mutterunintelligible things, and Polly's eyes dilated in terror. ThatSeptember night, when Colonel Gresham was so near to death, camevividly back to her. 

"I'm afraid"--she whispered, but did not go on. With one, long, anxious look she stole softly away and downstairs to the telephone. She wished she had called Dr. Rodman sooner. 

Her heart was beating painfully as she took the receiver in her hand. No word came to her ear, nothing save a low sputtering of the wire. She waited, and then gently pressed the hook. Still no answer. Againand again, she made the attempt, until, at last, she realized thetruth--the wires were useless. 

She sat for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Finally withdetermination on her face she ran over to the stairs, and listened. There was no sound. Still not quite satisfied, she crept up to hermother's room. She found little change, except that the mutteringswere fainter, and at times the lips were at rest. 

"I must go! I must!" Polly whispered to herself. "She acts just asColonel Gresham did--oh, dear!"

She dreaded to leave the house, fearing that her mother mightrouse--and who knew what she would do! Yet at the hospital was Dr. Rodman and help. It would take but a few minutes to go. Thusreassuring herself, she made ready to battle with the storm. It wasnot long before she opened the front door, but, unprepared for thefury of the wind, she gave a cry as the knob was swept from her grasp. Still she had no thought of turning back, and snapping the night lock, so that she could return without a key, she succeeded in shutting thedoor behind her. 

Outside was tumult. A procession of blasts came roaring down thestreet. It was biting cold. The snow stung. The muffled lights shonewanly through the night, and laid bare the desolate scene. Pollybreathed hard as she staggered across the piazza. The steps were adrifty slope of white, making descent dangerous; but she plunged on, gained a scant foothold, missed the next, clutched at nothing, andwent down, a helpless little heap in the whirling snow. 

Starting to scramble up, she dropped back with a cry. Pluckily shetried it again, this time coming to a sitting posture with a gasp ofpain. Her ankle had twisted when she fell, and was now throbbingdistressfully. 

"Oh, I can't go!" she half sobbed. "Dear, dear mother!"

She looked up and down the street, in hope of help; but none wasthere. The pain in her foot increased, and she realized that she mustact quickly. With a prayer in her heart, she crawled back, little bylittle, up the steps and over to the door, finally, after much effort, reaching the knob and letting herself in. Once assured that the doorwas fast, she sank into the hall corner, spent with her struggle. 

After what seemed a long while Polly crept upstairs. Her mother wasstill quiet, as if asleep. There were now no mutterings. Pollyshivered in her damp clothing and went over to the radiator. Thewarmth was grateful, and she dropped to the floor, cuddling beside heriron friend. Soon there were two sleepers in the lonely room. 

When she awoke Polly found herself hugging a cold pillow, and shesuddenly remembered that Joe was to have come to fill up the heater. Could the fire have gone out? The question brought dismay. If shecould only get down cellar!

Her foot and ankle ached unbearably, and she tried to take off hershoe; but it held fast. She pulled and pushed and twisted, gaspingwith pain; the boot would not stir. 

"Colonel Gresham would let Oscar come over and 'tend to the heater, ifhe only knew, " she muttered sadly--and then a hope popped up. Shewould ring the dinner bell from a side window--perhaps some of themwould hear!

It was a painful journey downstairs, but Polly did not flinch. Againand again the little bell sent its loudest appeal out into the stormynight; but the merciless wind stifled its voice before it could reacha kindly ear. There were snow wreaths in the ringer's hair, and tearsin her eyes, when she shut the window. 

"I thought they must hear, " she said sobbingly. Then, like a carefullittle housewife, she shook the snow from her dress, and brushed upthe slush from the floor. 

"I guess I'll go, " she whispered. "Mother will freeze if I don't. P'rhaps I can--I've got to anyway!" She caught her breath in pain. 

Hobbling over to the kitchen shelf where the runabout lamp was kept, she lighted it, and, supplying herself with matches and a smallshovel, she started for the cellar. In baby-fashion she went down, sitting on the top stair and slipping from step to step. The lightthrew shadows all about, grotesque and startling; but the littlefigure kept steadily on. 

The fire was very low. Polly gazed anxiously at the dull red coals. The damper in the lower door had a bad habit of opening when it wasjarred. It was open now. 

"Father was in a hurry this morning when he shut this door, " sheexplained to herself, "and I guess he didn't stop to look. That's whyit's burned out. "

Slowly and painfully she fetched wood and threw it in the heater, opening the draughts wide, and watching to see if it caught. Soon itbegan to crackle and blaze cheerily, and, despite her loneliness andher suffering, hope leaped in her heart. 

"It will be nice and warm when mother wakes up--oh, I'm so glad I camedown!"

Yet it was dreary waiting for the moment when it seemed best to put onthe coal, and then she lingered still longer before she dared shut offthe draught. But at last her labor was complete. The pipes weregrowing warm, and the heater could safely be left to care for itself. 

Going upstairs was difficult and distressing; but the two flights werefinally accomplished, and Polly was free to rest. She lay down quietlybeside her mother, though not to sleep. Pain that made her almost cryout for relief kept her awake hour after hour. Mrs. Dudley lay verystill. But for her soft breathing the little watcher at her side wouldhave thought her dead. Many times Polly lifted herself upon her elbow, leaned over to listen, and dropped back again satisfied, but with astifled groan. Every movement now was torture. 

The night seemed to have no end. Polly felt as if she had lain there ahundred hours, and yet no sign of day. She wondered if God hadforgotten to wake up the world--and then she slept. 

It was so that Dr. Dudley found them at eight o'clock in the morning. When Polly came to herself her father and mother were talking of thegreat storm, the delay of his train, and of her sudden illness. ButPolly's story of the night sent the Doctor in haste to the aid of theinjured ankle. 

One glance at the swollen foot, and he whipped a pair of scissors fromhis pocket, inserting a blade underneath the leather. 

"Oh, father, " cried Polly in alarm, "these are my second-best boots!"

But the scissors were doing their merciful though destructive work, and the little sufferer closed her eyes with a sob of relief. 

For several days Polly's seat at school was vacant; but Patricia didnot allow her to get lonely. 

"If you had come to see Lester, as I wanted you to, " she insisted, "you wouldn't have sprained your ankle and had to stay home. Honestly, don't you wish you had?"

Polly glanced across to her mother with a mysterious smile. 

"I am sorry, " she answered, "not to have seen your cousin--"

"And yours!" put in Patricia. 

"Yes, 'and mine, '" Polly laughed. "But father says that blizzardlessons are sometimes better than Latin and geography; so I'm glad Ididn't miss them. "

Patricia looked puzzled. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE INTERMEDIATE BIRTHDAY PARTY

"There are Leonora and David and Patricia, to start with, " beganPolly, "and Elsie Meyer and Brida McCarthy and CorneliusO'Shaughnessy. "

Mrs. Dudley, writing down the names, smiled her sanction. 

"I want to invite as many of the girls at school as I can, " Polly wenton thoughtfully, "Lilith Brooks and Betty Thurston anyway--oh, andHilda Breese! I must have Hilda. She is a new scholar, but such adear! How many does that make?"

"Eight girls, with you, and two boys. "

"Only three more girls!" mused Polly anxiously. "I can't leave outAimée Gentil, and I meant to ask Mabel Camp and Mary Pender. " Shepaused. 

"That just makes it. " Her mother's pencil was waiting. 

"But I don't know what to do, " Polly sighed. "There's Gladys Osborne, I ought to invite her. She's Betty's intimate friend, and I'm afraidshe'll feel hurt to be skipped. And Ilga!" She drew another sigh. 

"Ilga Barron?"

Polly nodded, her forehead wrinkled over the problem. "She has beengood to me lately, and she'll expect an invitation. Still Mabel andMary don't have half the fun that Ilga has, and I want them. Oh, dear, having parties is hard work!"

Mrs. Dudley smiled sympathetically, but offered no direct assistance. 

"Suppose we leave the girls, and take up the boys. Then we can comeback, and things may look clearer. "

"All right. " Polly welcomed a respite from the struggle betweenloyalty to her old hospital friends and duty to her new acquaintances. 

The second list was soon complete, with former patients of theconvalescent ward outnumbering the others. 

"I want Otto Kriloff and Moses Cohn and those boys to have a good timefor once, " Polly unnecessarily explained, and then turned to thematter which had been dropped. 

"I think I'll have Aimée and Gladys and Ilga, " she at length decided. And so the names went down. 

"I will write the invitations this evening, " promised Mrs. Dudley; butin less than an hour came Mrs. Jocelyn with a proposal which precludedall previous arrangements and more pleasantly solved Polly's difficultproblem. 

"Leonora and I are in a quandary, " began the little lady who was usedto having her own way, "and we hope you will help us out. With Polly'sbirthday coming on the eighteenth and Leonora's on the twentieth, andwe planning for separate parties, it is strange I didn't think of itsooner. Probably it wouldn't have occurred to me now, only that theinvitation list has been giving us no end of bother. "

Mrs. Dudley and Polly smiled appreciatively to each other. 

"We reached the end of it, " Mrs. Jocelyn continued, "long beforeLeonora was through choosing, and she was distressed at thought ofleaving out so many. It is all nonsense, this restricting the numberof guests to the years; but if it must be so I think we had bettercombine. Then we can double the list, and nobody will have to beinvited twice. Polly and Leonora ought to be satisfied with forty-fourfriends--no, forty-two besides themselves, " she amended, with atwinkle in her gray eyes. 

The girls eagerly awaited Mrs. Dudley's reply. 

"That would be very pleasant, " she began; "but--"

"There isn't a single but to it, " laughed the little lady comfortably. "We will have the party at my house, two parties in one, on thenineteenth. "

"Oh! that will be a between birthday party, won't it?" piped Pollydelightedly. 

"We will call it just that, " agreed Mrs. Jocelyn. 

Plans were making progress when the Doctor came in, and Polly watchedhis face anxiously as he listened. She knew the signs. 

"I don't quite like this arrangement, " he objected frankly. "We haveintended to make Polly's party a very simple little affair, withoutfuss or ceremony. You, of course, will wish things different. "

"Now, see here, Dr. Robert Dudley, " broke in Mrs. Jocelyn, laughingly, "I'm not going to allow any such insinuations. It shall be bread andbutter and cookies for tea, if you wish; but you are not going tospoil our good time. Just look at those children! They are worryingtheir hearts out for fear you won't let them play hostess together. "

At that, the disturbed faces broadened into smiles, and presently theDoctor asked Polly if she had shown Leonora the new paper dolls thatBurton Leonard's mother had sent her. Which delicate hint told herthat the elder people preferred to discuss the matter alone. 

It was finally settled according to Mrs. Jocelyn's mind, as Leonorahad felt sure it would be. 

"Mother always makes things go her way, " she declared, "and it is abeautiful way, too!"

When it came to deciding on the guests, all was harmonious, even whenPolly submitted the name of Ilga Barron, to whom Leonora had felt astrong dislike since her first day at school. 

"But you can have her if you want her, " she conceded. "I only hope shewon't spoil the party. "

Polly had the same secret hope, mingled with not a little fear; butshe kept silent regarding it, only saying:--

"She has been pleasant lately, and I don't want to snub her just asshe's growing good. "

On the afternoon of Polly's birthday, the school furnace neededimmediate repair, and the session came to an early close. It had beenarranged for Polly to ride home with Leonora; but as the carriage wasnot there they took a trolley car, Leonora not being yet quite strongenough for so long a walk. 

Polly was the first to spy it, the fairy-like automobile, all whiteand gold, in front of Mrs. Jocelyn's house. The girls, excited withwonder, walked slowly past the beautiful little car. 

"It must belong to somebody's fairy godmother, " laughed Leonora. 

"Or to Titania, " added Polly. "It is pretty enough to be hers. "

"Whose do you really s'pose it is?" queried Leonora, loitering at theside entrance for another look. 

But Polly had not even a suggestion beyond the fairy queen. 

"Let's hurry up and find out!" she cried. And they raced round to theback door. 

Barbara, one of the maids, showed plain dismay when she saw them. 

"Stay here, here in this room!" she commanded excitedly. 

"I want to see mother, " objected Leonora. 

"No, no!" replied Barbara, with unheard-of severity. "She gotvis'tors. "

"Did they come in that lovely car? Oh, do tell us that!" Leonorawheedled. 

Barbara hesitated, looking from one to the other. 

"Please!" coaxed Polly. 

"Yes, " she finally admitted, "they come in it. But I not tell more. "She shut her lips tightly. 

Tilly, the cook, slipped outside, and after a while returned with theword that the girls could go where they chose. They were quick to usethe permission; but, as Polly surmised, the little car was gone. 

Mrs. Jocelyn only smiled unsatisfactory answers to their eagerquestions, and they wondered much what it all could mean. 

Soon after tea Polly was sent home in the coach, with a box of elevenlong-stemmed superb pink roses, a birthday present from Leonora. Sheran into the living-room to show them to her father and mother, butstopped just inside the threshold, staring at the corner where a lowbookcase had stood. There, shining with newness, she saw a handsomeupright piano. 

"Why, father, " she cried, "what made you do it? You said you couldn'tafford one just yet, and I could have waited as well as not!"

Dr. Dudley smiled down into her eager face. 

"I didn't, " he answered. "We were as much surprised as you are. Readthat!" pointing to a card tilted against the music rack. 

She snatched the bit of white. 

 To Polly, with all the love and happy birthday wishes that can be packed into a piano. 

 From her friend, JULIET P. JOCELYN. 

Polly drew a long breath of joy. 

"Isn't it lovely!" she beamed. 

The next minute her fingers were racing over the keys in a musicallittle waltz. 

Early the next morning came David with a "Little Colonel" book forPolly. 

"I didn't know whether to bring it over yesterday or not, " he laughed;"but I finally thought I'd better wait for the intermediate day. "

"It wouldn't make any difference, " returned Polly, fingering the bookadmiringly. "Thank you ever and ever so much! I've wanted to know moreabout the 'Little Colonel. ' But what kind of a day did you call it?"

"Intermediate, " he replied. "Isn't that right?"

"Of course, " she assured him promptly, always secretly marveling atDavid's ability to use words with which she was unfamiliar. "Itsounds beautiful. "

"It means halfway between, I think, " he explained; "so I thought itwas an appropriate word. "

"It is, " declared Polly, "a great deal better than just between. Itmakes it seem more important. "

David laughed, and then, spying the piano, admired Polly's newinstrument to her full satisfaction, and ended by sitting down andsinging a little song which she called "another birthday present. "

Shortly before two o'clock the birthday guests began to arrive at Mrs. Jocelyn's beautiful home. The two mothers, one in white and the otherin gray, and the two girls, dressed exactly alike in soft white wool, with pink sashes and ribbons, received informally in the eastdrawing-room, and when the girls and boys were all there Mrs. Dudleystarted a game. 

They were in the midst of the fun, when Polly, glancing at IlgaBarron, was troubled to see an ugly scowl. The children were in acircle, alternate girls and boys, secretly passing a ring from handto hand, and it chanced that Ilga had a place between Otto Kriloff andCornelius O'Shaughnessy. 

"Oh, if she makes a fuss!" thought Polly, and straightway the charm ofthe game vanished. 

Ilga's face grew black and ominous. Suddenly, with a scornful "I guessI won't play any more!" she dropped the hands she held, and, with headhigh, walked mincingly over to the window, and stood with her back tothe others. 

"What's the matter?" broke from several mouths and showed in everyface--every face but Polly's. Polly knew, or thought she knew. 

"We'll keep right on, " she said in a soft, tense voice; and the playproceeded, yet not as before. 

Wondering glances were continually cast towards the window, where theyellow-clad figure stood dark against the light. The Senator'sdaughter received more attention than the ring. 

Meantime Ilga grew tired of waiting for the game to end, and, with afurtive look in the direction of the players, she sauntered offtowards the hallway. 

At once Polly excused herself, and followed. 

Ilga turned quickly. 

"I'm going home, " she said. 

"Oh, please don't!" cried Polly, adding faintly, "Are you ill?"

"No; but I guess I'd better go. There's such a rabble here. "

"Why, Ilga!" gasped Polly. 

"Well, 'tis!" she retorted. "If mamma'd known it, she wouldn't havelet me come; she's very particular who I play with. "

"They're just as nice as they can be, " protested Polly in a soft, grieved voice. 

"Perhaps they seem so to you. I s'pose that's the kind they have athospitals. The little Pole over there, he squeezed my fingers so they'most ache yet, and that tall Irish kid with the red hair is the worstof the bunch!"

"Oh, Ilga, he's a splendid boy, and so brave! I'm sure Otto didn'tmean to hurt you; he is kind as can be. "

"It's all right, if you want them; but I guess I'll go home. Ithought there'd be something besides just games. "

She turned towards the staircase, yet lingered. 

"I'm sorry you don't like it, " Polly replied simply. "I'll playanything you wish. "

"No, I'm going. "

She tossed her head, and took a step upward. 

Polly was in terror lest somebody should overhear, for Ilga's voicewas sharp with excitement. 

"I'll stay and play with the school boys and girls, " the dissatisfiedguest yielded. 

"But I can't separate them, " Polly protested in dismay. 

"Then I'll go home, " Ilga decided, and went slowly up the stairs. 

Polly followed sadly, but presently returned, having given over to hermother the care of the Senator's daughter. 

Leonora ran to meet her. "What is the matter?" she whispered. 

"I know!" spoke up Cornelius. "She don't like the crowd. I had to hearwhat she said about me. Say, Polly, I'll get out, if that'll make herstay. "

"You shan't!" Polly's eyes flashed. Then they brimmed with tears. "Iwant you, Cornelius--I want you all! I wouldn't have you go foranything! Come, let's play--what shall we play? You choose, Cornelius!"

The game was moving pleasantly along when the Barron coach stopped atthe door. For a few minutes the interest of the players flagged; then, having seen Ilga whirled out of sight, a festive spirit fell upon all, and the play went on more merrily than before. 

Game followed game, and mirth was high, when Elsie Meyer, out for aforfeit, suddenly cried:--

"Oh, me! oh, my! the fairies have come!"

This was enough to halt the others, and the glimpse of awhite-and-gold automobile drew the little crowd to the front windows. 

Wonder and delight were on the children's faces, as they watched themotorists alight. The dapper man and the slight little woman weregiven small attention, for in the car were two of the tiniest, dearest midgets that anybody had ever seen. As soon as it was knownthat they were actually coming into the house, the excitement wasgreat. 

"Do you s'pose they're real fairies?" questioned Brida McCarthyeagerly. 

Nobody could answer. In fact, just at the moment, words were scarce. Interest was centred on the visitors that were coming up the frontsteps. The glimpses of the beautiful little creatures as they passedthe curtained doorway increased the children's curiosity, and, duringthe brief time devoted to the removal of wraps, tongues ran lively. The wild surmises came to a sudden halt when the tiny boy and girlappeared bowing and curtsying, being presented to the company as"Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Lucio and Princess Chiara. "

The brother and sister at once proceeded to give a unique performancein song, dance, and pantomime, until the young guests were besidethemselves with delight. 

After this entertainment came the wonderful party tea, arranged andserved in Mrs. Jocelyn's happiest style, with eleven littlecandle-girls atop of the birthday cake, and ice cream in the form offairies. 

When everybody was stuffed with good things, the dainty Prince andPrincess remained for an hour to play with the other children, "justlike real folks, " as Elsie Meyer declared. 

The last game of hide-and-seek came to a merry end, with the findingof the roguish little Princess, who was only eighteen inches tall, curled up snugly back of a small flower pot, inside of a jardiniere. Then the girls and boys bade good-bye to their royal companions, andthe guests were all sent home in the beautiful Jocelyn carriage. Thestately grays had to make a good many trips before the IntermediateBirthday Party was really over; but the last load was finally drivenaway, jubilant voices sounding back through the dusk after thechildren had passed from sight. 

"It was just lovely, from beginning to end, " breathed Leonora. 

Ilga Barron was quite forgotten. 

CHAPTER IX

THE EIGHTH ROSE

On the morning after the party Polly was early downstairs. 

Breakfast not being quite ready, she filled up the time by givingfresh water to her birthday roses. 

"You are going to the hospital to-day, " she told them, as she clippedthe ends of the stems and broke off two or three great thorns. "Thatis, most of you, " she amended. "Let me see, you, and you, and you, "she decided, laying aside three big beauties. Their number wasdoubled, and then she hesitated. 

"Mother, you wouldn't keep more than three, would you?"

Mrs. Dudley looked up from the grapefruit she was cutting. 

"That is a good number to look at, " she smiled. 

"So I think, " Polly agreed; "but they can have only one apiece overat the hospital. One alone is pretty, though, " she mused. "I'd leaveonly one for us, but if Leonora should come, she might be afraid Ididn't care for them. No, I think eight will have to do, and it willbe better to give to those that have to lie abed, won't it?"

Only waiting for her mother's approval, she went on:--

"There's Reva and Ottoine and Mary up in the children's ward, and oldMrs. Zieminski, and that funny little Magdalene, and Gustav and MissButler--that makes seven, " counting them slowly on her fingers. "Idon't know who I will give the eighth to--there are plenty of folks, only I'm not acquainted with them. Never mind, anybody'll be glad ofone of these lovelicious roses, and I'll see when I get there. "

"How does it feel to be eleven?" broke in the Doctor's happy voice. 

"Why, I was eleven day before yesterday, " laughed Polly. "I've hadtime to get used to it. "

"But that was a birthday, and yesterday was a party day; it is whenyou get back to the everydayness that you begin to feel things. "

"It isn't a bit different from ten, " she declared. "Yes, a little, because I have all these roses to give away. Aren't they sweet?" Sheheld them up for her father to sniff. 

"Come to breakfast!" was the gentle command from the dining-room, andPolly skipped on ahead, cautioning the Doctor to be sure not to spillthe water from the vase with which she had entrusted him. 

The hour before school found Polly and the pink roses on their way tothe big white house. Having the freedom of the hospital almost as muchas Dr. Dudley himself, she flitted in and out whenever she chose, never in anybody's way, and greeted with smiles from nurses andpatients. 

Her errand this morning carried her first to the children'sconvalescent ward, where she was so eagerly seized upon that sheescaped only by pleading her additional flowers to distribute, andschool time not far away. 

With the eighth rose still in her hand, and debating whether to carryit up to the children, or to give it to a boy in the surgical wardwith whom she had once spoken, she passed a half-open door on one ofthe private-room corridors. 

Glancing inside, she saw a young man, with bandaged eyes, lying on acouch. He was quite alone, and his mouth looked sad. 

"I wonder if he would like it, " she questioned, and a breath offragrance from the half-blown rose answered her. "He can smell it, even if he can't see it, " she thought, and stepped inside the room. 

The man turned his head. 

"Would you like one of my birthday roses?" she asked. "It is verysweet. " She put it in his hand. 

"I thank you, indeed. " The sad lips smiled. "This is quite outside ofmy programme. In fact, I had almost forgotten there were such pleasanttimes as birthdays. "

"It was day before yesterday, " she ventured. 

"And I judge by your voice that the number of roses needed was notlarge. "

She laughed softly. "Only eleven. "

"About as I guessed! I hope the rest of the birthday matched theroses. This is very beautiful. " His fingers gave it a caressing touch. 

"Oh, I had a lovelicious birthday! I really had two of them!"

"Two? That sounds interesting. Can't you sit down here and tell meabout it?"

"If I wouldn't be late to school, " she hesitated. "I don't know whattime it is. "

He pulled a watch from his pocket, and held it up for her view. 

"Oh, I've twenty-seven minutes! I can stay a little while. "

She took the chair beside him, and recounted the story of theintermediate entertainment, intuitively omitting the part which Ilgaplayed. That it was appreciated by her listener Polly could not doubt. 

"You must come and see me again, " he invited, as she rose to go. "Ithink you may do me more good than the Doctor. "

"Oh, no!" she objected softly; "I couldn't do anything better thanfather! He cures everybody. "

The young man smiled doubtfully. 

"May I ask who 'father' is? Not Dr. Dudley?"

"Why, yes, sir. I s'posed you knew. I'm Polly Dudley, Dr. Dudley'slittle girl. "

"Are you! Well, Miss Polly, I am surely glad to have made youracquaintance. " He ran hurriedly through his pockets. "I had a cardsomewhere. Probably it was seized with the rest of my belongings. Thatseems to be a way they have at hospitals--hide a man's things so hecan't get at them! Never mind, I haven't forgotten my name. I am FloydWestwood of New York. "

"That's a lovelicious name, " Polly told him frankly. 

The corners of his mouth curled up. 

"I hope you will not fail to come often, " he told her, as she put herlittle hand in his for good-bye. 

"Oh, I'll come!" she promised. "But it's father that will cure you. "

"I hope so, but, " he added soberly, "it doesn't look much like it atpresent. "

Polly's eyes went troubled. 

Perhaps the other read her silence, for he said brightly:--

"Now that I know the Doctor's little girl, it may be I shall have moreconfidence in the Doctor's assurances. "

"Oh, if he says you'll get well, " she laughed, "you needn't worry asingle mite! Father doesn't ever lie to people. "

"That sounds pleasant and mighty reassuring. I am glad you came in. Iwas getting blue. "

"Perhaps you were 'scared, ' like Magdalene, " she chuckled. "I do wishyou could see her! She is the funniest little German girl! She hadappendicitis, and the doctors sent for father. He knew right off shecouldn't live without an operation, and he told her father and mother, and then he went and talked to her. He didn't tell her she'd die, forshe's only six years old; but he said she couldn't ever go out toplay, or have any more good times, unless they took her to thehospital to cure her. And she looked up at him, just as sober, andsaid, 'I'm scared! I'm scared!'--not a thing else! They brought her uphere in the ambulance, and she never said a word all the way. But whenshe got downstairs, where there were lots of doctors and nurses, father happened to go near her, and she looked straight up into hisface, and said, 'I'm scared! I'm scared!' Poor little thing! I shouldthink she would have been; but she is so funny. "

"Did she come out all right?"

"Oh, yes, of course!--father performed the operation. The next daywhen he saw her she was looking as happy as could be, and he asked herif she was scared, and she didn't speak, only just shook her head thisway, and grinned. " Polly's curls waved vigorously. "After a few daysshe grew worse, and they had a consultation, and three or four doctorswere there. Father thought she looked frightened, and he asked her ifshe was scared, and she bowed her head hard--oh, she is so funny! Ijust carried her one of my roses, and I'm sure she liked it, but shedidn't say a single word. "

"I have a fellow-feeling for that little girl, " smiled Mr. Westwood. "I know all right what it is to be 'scared, ' and it isn't pleasant. "

As Polly's lips parted for a response, her eyes fell upon the watchwhich the young man was still fingering. 

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed, "I forgot all about school! Good-bye!" Andshe flashed away. 

At dinner she told where she had left her eighth rose. 

"I am glad you happened in there, " returned the Doctor. "He seems tobe a fine young fellow, a chemist, just out of college. He came upfrom New York to see a friend, and while he was assisting with somechemical work he was temporarily blinded by an explosion. He is comingon all right; but for a few days I have noticed that he has seemedrather gloomy. Go again! You will do him good. "

Several times during the next week Polly obeyed her father'sinjunction, and accepted Mr. Westwood's repeated invitations. Withevery visit the two became better friends, and Polly waited almost aseagerly as the patient himself for the day when his bandaged eyesshould be released. Only in Polly's heart there was not a littleregret mingled with her anticipated joy, for that would herald Mr. Westwood's going away. Still she would not let the disturbing thoughtdetract from her present pleasure, and she ran in and out of theyoung man's room in a happy, quite-at-home fashion. 

She was starting for one of these little visits, when her mothercalled to her. 

"I wish you would go down to Besse and Drayton's, and get me a yardmore of this ribbon, " she requested; "I find I haven't enough. " Sheheld out a bit of blue satin. 

"I'll be back with it in a jiffy--a ten-minute jiffy, " laughed Polly. 

Off she flew, tripping down the street and around the corner sobriskly that she nearly ran into a little man who was proceeding at aquick, heedless pace. 

"Why, Mr. Bean!" she cried. 

"I declare, if 'tain't Polly! little Polly! How do you do, my dear?How do you do?"

As soon as Mr. Bean learned that Polly was on her way down to thedepartment store, he turned about, and walked along by her side, listening delightedly to her happy chatter. 

"I'm proper sorry I hain't found that letter yit, " he mourned. "Janeshe's been kind o' upset 'n' cranky lately, or I should 'a' asked herabout it before. I guess I shall speak about it to-night, yis, Iguess I shall, " he assured Polly and himself. 

"Oh, don't hurry to do it right away!" Polly respondedunderstandingly. "I can wait to know about my relatives. If Aunt Janeisn't feeling--quite well, it wouldn't be a good time. "

"No, 'twouldn't, " he agreed in a relieved tone. "But I'll have it foryer soon's I see my way to it. Sometime when Jane's feelin' real good, I'll broach the subjec', I certain will. "

Home with her ribbon and then over to the hospital sped Polly. Shefound her friend impatiently striding up and down the limited space ofhis room. 

"I'd about given you up, " he told her in an aggrieved tone. "Iconcluded you were tired of coming to be eyes for a poor old blindfellow like me, and so had stayed after school to play. "

Polly looked at him keenly. Sometimes she did not quite know whetherto take him in fun or in earnest. Now his face was serious; but shefelt almost sure there was a twinkle behind that tantalizing bandage. 

"You know I couldn't be tired of coming to see you, " she said simply, "and I never stay to play after school. I went on an errand formother, and then I met Mr. Bean, and he stopped to apologize for notfinding a letter that is--lost, a letter about my May relatives. "

"What!" His tone startled Polly. "Are you related to the Mays? how?Tell me!" He was waiting with eager, parted lips. 

"Why, " she hesitated, vaguely abashed all at once, "I'm Polly May, youknow--or was. I guess I haven't told you. " Polly never talked of heradoption, instinctively guarding as a precious secret what wasnaturally well known throughout the city. 

"No, you haven't; but won't you tell me now, please?"

"Father and mother adopted me the day they were married, " sheexplained simply. "Papa and mamma were dead, and I didn't belong toAunt Jane or anybody. "

"Polly, who was your father--your own father?" The words tumbled closeon the heels of her sentence. 

"Chester May, " she answered dazedly. Something was imminent. She knewnot what. 

"Chester May! And your mother's name? Was it Illingworth? PhebeIllingworth?" The words shot like bullets. 

"Why, yes!" gasped Polly. "How did you know?"

"Polly! Polly!" He thrust out his hands--they touched Polly's, whichhe caught in a strong grip. "My mother was your father's sister, hiseldest sister! We are cousins, Polly, own cousins!"

Dr. Dudley came, with the nurse, before the story was ended, and thenit had to be begun and told all over again, --the old, old story of aquarrel between the father and the "baby" of his family, of the hastyleaving home of the boy, of the meagre news of his early marriage, andlastly of the years that were empty of tidings. These Polly was ableto fill up in part, when the story-teller turned listener, withinterest almost as great as Polly's own. 

Floyd Westwood begged the physician to allow him one little glimpse ofhis new-found cousin; but Dr. Dudley was firm, and the eager eyeswere not uncovered. Polly soon slipped away to share her joy with hermother, leaving the Doctor and his patient to talk over present plansand future possibilities. 

CHAPTER X

A VISIT FROM ERASTUS BEAN

It was yet early the next evening, soon after Dr. Dudley had gone forhis usual round at the hospital, that Polly answered the doorbell toreturn with Erastus Bean. 

Delight laughed from the little man's weathered face. 

"There 'tis, my dear! there 'tis!" he chuckled, carefully drawing afolded paper from an inner pocket. He put it in Polly's hand with animpressive bow. "I hope it will make yer a millionaire, " he wished, "yis, I do!"

Polly thanked him, fingering the letter in a somewhat awed way, butnot at all as if she were in a hurry to discover her chances towardsmillionairedom. Meantime Mrs. Dudley was seating the little man in theeasiest chair. 

Settling himself comfortably, with a profusion of acknowledgments, herubbed his lean hands together with a reminiscent smile. 

"I took Jane ridin' in a autymobile this afternoon!" he announced. 

"You did?" Polly burst out. 

"Sure thing!" he beamed. "Jane she's been a-wishin' an' a-wishin' shecould go skylarkin' off like other folks, an' when that autymobiledriv' up this afternoon, you'd oughter seen her eyes! It was a stylishone, I tell yer! An' we went bouncin' up an' down like the best of'em! Jane she says it was full as good's a weddin' trip!"

He was silent a moment, smiling at the remembrance. 

"I'm so glad you had such a nice ride, " purred Polly. 

"It was proper nice, " he agreed. "Yer see, " falling into aconfidential tone, "I couldn't make out no surer way to git hold o'that letter. Jane she's kind o' cranky sometimes, but she's got hergood streaks, and you can coax her into 'most anything. Now when wewas whirlin' along there through Cat-hole Pass, on that slick road, Ijust broached the subjec'. Couldn't 'a' picked out a better minutenohow! She chimed right in, and said 'twas time yer had it, if yer wasever goin' to--an' there it is!" He chuckled like a boy over his bitof stratagem. 

"Hadn't yer better look at it, my dear, " he proposed, "just to makecertain it's all right?" Eager that his service should bring her joy, he was anxious to see its consummation. 

Polly, still dimpling with amusement over Mr. Bean's management ofAunt Jane, unfolded the sheet. One glance at the closely-written firstpage, the smiles vanished, her cheeks went white, and, drooping herhead, she wailed out:--

"Mamma! mamma! Oh, mamma, I want you!"

Mrs. Dudley sprang to comfort her, but the little man was there first. Gathering Polly tenderly in his arms, he crooned over her like amother. 

"There! there! my dear! There, dearie! I know! I know! It's hard! Ifelt just that way when Susie went. There! cry right on myshoulder--it'll do you good. There, dearie! Pretty soon I'll tell yousomething. There! there!"

The tones were soft and soothing. Mrs. Dudley could barely make outthe words. Soon the sobbing ceased. 

"I didn't know the letter was from her, " Polly broke out plaintively. "That's what she used to call me--'Polly Precious'--oh, de-e-ar!"

"There! there! I know! I know! It's hard, awful hard! I know!"

She lay back on his shoulder again, and presently was more calm. 

"Now I'm goin' to tell you something, " the little man resumed. "AfterSusie went, I just couldn't stand it without her--she was all I had. Her mother'd gone two years before. An' I got to thinkin' 'bout Susie, an' how she'd always tag me round, from cellar to attic, goin' with mefur's I'd let her when I went to work, and runnin' to meet me when Icome home. And thinks I, 'S'pose Susie's goin' to stay up in Heavenaway from me? No, sir! She's taggin' me round just the same as ever! Ican't see her, but she's right here!' An' she has been! I couldn't 'a'stood it no other way! An' Susie couldn't! The good God knows howmuch we c'n stand, and he eases things up for us. 

"Now, my dear, it's just so with your mother. She loves you more--yis, more--than you do her, an' do you think she stays away from you? Why, no, dearie, she's right here, takin' care o' you all the time!"

"Oh! do you really s'pose that?" cried Polly joyously. 

"My dear, my dear!" the little man's voice was tense with feeling, "Idon't s'pose--I _know_! Ther' 's nothin' in all God's universe sostrong as love, and so what is there to keep love away from us? For, of course, our folks don't stop lovin' us. They're just the same, hereor there. 

"I don't very often tell people how I feel, for once I got caught. Awoman thought sure I was a spiritu'list, and wanted to bring me amessage from Susie. But I told her, 'Now, Susie and I git on all righttogether without talkin', and if she's got anything to say to me thatI can understand she'll say it right to me, and not to somebody she'snever seen or heard of. No, ma'am, ' I says, 'I know Susie better 'nyou do!' So since then I've kep' pretty whist about Susie; but she's amighty comfort to me every day o' my life. "

Polly sat quite still in the little man's arms, her head leaningconfidingly against the shiny, well-brushed coat. Her eyes werelustrous with the new, beautiful thought. Could it be really true? Shewas going to believe so! Presently she was smiling again, and she readthat portion of her letter which gave the addresses of her father'srelatives. She told Mr. Bean all about the wonderful discovery ofFloyd Westwood through a birthday rose, and found that an address inthe letter was identical with one which her cousin had given her. Shebegan to feel the pleasant reality of kinsfolk, and when the littleman went home she waved him a happy good-night from the piazza, quiteas if there were no such things as tears. 

CHAPTER XI

UNCLE MAURICE AT LADY GAY COTTAGE

"You can't live in Lady Gay Cottage much longer!"

This exulting announcement greeted Polly as she entered theschoolroom. 

She looked at Ilga Barron with puzzled eyes. 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

"Just what I say, " answered Ilga. "She can't; can she, Gustave?"

The boy at her side Polly had never spoken with, but now she turned tohim inquiringly. He had been in school only two days, having butrecently returned with his parents from a long stay abroad. 

"She's right, " he asserted, addressing himself to Polly. "Father'sgoing to sell the place. "

"Oh! is that what you call our house?" queried Polly, beginning tounderstand. "Does your father own it?"

Gustave nodded. "Mother named it from the Lady Gay roses on thepiazzas, " he explained. "Wait till June, and you'll see!"

"I remember them last summer, " Polly smiled. "They were lovely--allpink and white, but I didn't know their name. "

"You'll have to go back to the hospital to live, shan't you?"questioned Ilga curiously. 

"I don't know, " Polly answered. Her face held a bit of anxiety as shemoved away. 

This piece of news was the foremost topic at the Dudley dinner-table. Polly saw that her father and mother were disturbed by it. Althoughthe Doctor made little jests, the laughter sometimes seemed forced, and occasionally talk would flag. There was no other rented house inthe neighborhood, and Dr. Dudley must live in the immediate vicinityof the hospital to retain his position there. This Polly gathered fromwhat passed between her father and mother, and she returned to schoolin no mood for study or play. Later a thought came which she felt surewould solve the problem. It was not until after tea that she made theproposition. 

"Father, " she began, atilt on the arm of his chair, "should you liketo buy this house yourself?"

"Possibly, if I had plenty of money; but what little I have is tied upwhere I can't get at it conveniently. "

"Oh, then you can buy it right away!" Polly cried gleefully. "You cantake my two thousand dollars! Won't that be enough?"

Dr. Dudley's lips set themselves firmly, and he shook his head. 

"No, Thistledown, I cannot touch your money. Don't you remember, Itold you it must stay where it is until you are of age?"

"Oh, but this is different!" she urged. "Please take it--do!"

Her entreaties, however, could not prevail against the Doctor'sjudgment. 

"What shall we do, then?" she complained. 

"Keep still for the present, " he laughed. "The house isn't sold yet, perhaps won't be. Don't worry over it, Thistledown! There will be someway out, and a good way, too. Your Cousin Floyd told me to-night thatthe Royal is due to-morrow. You know that is the steamer his fathersailed on, so you may expect to see your uncle by Friday. Floyd thinkshe will come up at once. "

"I shall like him if he is as nice as Floyd, " returned Pollythoughtfully. 

Dr. Dudley said nothing. He was weighing love and legal rights againstwealth and near kinship. The balance did not appear to be in hisfavor. 

On Thursday Polly was thrown into a pleasant excitement by thetelephone message that came to Dr. Dudley. Uncle Maurice Westwood wasin New York, and would motor up to Fair Harbor the next morning, tosee his son and his new niece. 

"I shall have to stay home from school, shan't I?" Polly questionedeagerly. 

"I think not, " was the quiet answer. "It is uncertain what time hewill come, so things had better go on as usual. "

"But what if he should go back before I got home?" worried Polly. 

Mrs. Dudley laughed. "No danger of that! Don't you think your unclewill be as anxious to see you as you are to see him?"

"Maybe, " she replied doubtfully. 

She felt that so unusual an occasion called for her best dress and astately waiting for the visitor, instead of going to school in hercommon frock just as on ordinary days when nothing happened. But shemade no further objection, joining David on the front walk, andtelling him that "Uncle Maurice" was actually coming. 

Returning at noon, Polly ran nearly all the way, so eager was sheto see if her uncle's car were in front of the house. To herdisappointment the only vehicle in sight was a grocer's team atColonel Gresham's side gate. 

"I'm afraid he's gone, " she lamented under her breath; yet she hurriedround to the kitchen door, and was relieved of her fear by hearingvoices in the living-room, her mother's and a deeper one that she didnot know. 

Uncle Maurice looked a little as Polly had pictured, patterning him byhis young son; but she had not made sufficient allowance for years, and he was older and very much bigger than she had imagined he wouldbe. His smile was pleasant, like Floyd's, and his greeting cordialand even fatherly. When Dr. Dudley came in he found her chattingfamiliarly upon her uncle's knee. 

It was not until after dinner that Mr. Westwood spoke of Polly'sfuture. Then his first sentence almost caught away her breath. 

"Well, Doctor, I suppose you are going to give this little girl tome. "

"It will be as Polly says, " replied the physician, with a grave smile. 

He did not look at Polly, who sat in a low chair near by; but sheturned to him with an exclamation on her lips. It was arrested, however, by her uncle's response. 

"It surely seems to be the only way to fix matters. To begin with, sheis my brother-in-law's daughter, and it doesn't seem fair to have herout of the family. If my wife were living she would never hear to sucha thing, and Floyd wishes her to come to us as much as I do. She willhave a mother in my sister, who has kept house for me the last threeyears, and I can give her every advantage that a girl should have. Ofcourse, she can visit you occasionally, and we shall always be gladto see you in our New York home or in California. I bought a placedown on the Pacific Coast, some six years ago, and I have kept addingto it until I have quite a ranch. It gives us an ideal home for thecoldest weather, though this last winter we made only a flying tripthere. Business called me across the water, and Floyd would ratherdabble in chemicals, and incidentally put his eyes out, than doanything worth while. He doesn't take to manufacturing. Wish he did!My two younger boys, Harold and Julian, I put in a military schoollast fall, and they're having a dandy time. They will be home soon fortheir spring vacation, and then Polly can make their acquaintance. They are fine little fellows. Julian is captain of the junior footballteam, but Harold doesn't go in for athletics. You'll find him curledup with a book at almost any hour. Let's see--he must be about yourage. How old did you tell me you are?"

Polly, thus addressed, murmured, "Eleven"; but only her lips moved. Itwas as if an automaton spoke. 

Mrs. Dudley, glancing that way, was startled. 

The soft brown eyes were wide and brilliant, and a scarlet spot oneither cheek lighted the pallid face. Polly was gazing at her uncle asif held by some strange power. 

"He is only ten, " Mr. Westwood was saying. "Julian is fourteen. Butthere isn't difference enough to matter. You three will get onadmirably together. 

"Better let her go back with me, " he went on, turning to the Doctor. "Mrs. Calhoun, my sister, will fix her out in the way of clothes. Youcan buy anything in New York, from a shoestring to--"

Nobody heard the end of that sentence, for, with a leap, Polly had thefloor. Her eyes flashed, and her voice was tense with anger anddetermination. 

"Uncle Maurice, " she cried, "I s'pose you mean all right; but I guessmy mother knows how to get my clothes just as well as anybody, and youneedn't think I'm going to New York, you needn't think so a singlesecond! Why, I wouldn't leave father and mother for a milliondollars! I wouldn't go for ten million dollars!"

"Well, Miss Highflier!" Mr. Westwood threw back his head in achuckling laugh. "Some spirit in that little frame of yours! Shouldn'twonder if you took after your father. Chester was a fiery boy. Now, come here, and let me tell you something. "

Polly's head went up defiantly. "I'm not going!" she insisted. "Youneedn't think you can coax me into it! You can't!"

"Polly!" The Doctor's voice was gently admonitive. 

"Excuse me, " she apologized. "I didn't mean to be impolite. But Ishan't go!" She moved obediently towards her uncle, and he placed heron his knee, where she sat, submissive but alert. 

"I want to tell you what a splendid time you'll have with us, " hebegan. 

"Other folks have tried to buy me, " remarked Polly. 

"Have they, indeed! It is a good thing to be marketable, " with awhimsical glance towards the Doctor. 

"I don't like it, " returned Polly. 

"Well, you won't have any more such trouble after you come to NewYork. "

Polly was silent, but her lips were set, and her eyes grew ominouslydark. 

"Now, in the first place, you shall have anything in the world youwish, --dolls, toys, and a playroom to keep them in, and a wholelibrary of story-books. Then parties--whew, you ought to see whatparties Julian and Harold have! They'd make you open your eyes withenvy!"

"Mrs. Jocelyn gave me a beautiful birthday party, " responded Pollywith dignity. 

"Ah? But it wasn't a New York party. You don't know what kind ofparties we get up in New York. Why, the flowers for the boys' lastaffair cost two hundred dollars!"

Polly gazed down at the rug, and followed the intricate lines of thepattern. 

"Then you shall have the handsomest pink silk party dress we can findin the city, all fixed up with white lace--real lace, mind you! Whatdo you think of that?"

"I don't want a pink silk party dress!" scorned Polly. "I have onealready. "

"Ah?" Mr. Westwood looked a bit disconcerted. 

"I will buy you a Shetland pony, " he resumed, "the very best one wecan find, and you shall take riding-lessons with the boys. I'll seethat you have the choosing of your riding-suit, any color and styleyou like. "

Polly's eyes showed mild interest, and her uncle proceeded. 

"I saw a pony awhile ago that I think I can get for you. He ishigh-priced, but I guess he's worth it. Such a pretty creature! He atebread and butter and sugar out of my hand. "

"That's what Lone Star does!" brightened Polly. "Lone Star is ColonelGresham's beautiful trotter. "

"I think I've heard of him, " observed Mr. Westwood. 

"Have you?" Polly cried. "Oh, I wish you could see him! He is the mostlovelicious horse!"

Her uncle laughed. "Well, you can have one just as 'lovelicious' as heis, a second Lone Star, if you like. Oh, how you will love your pony!"

"I am not going to have any pony!" was the resolute announcement. 

"Oh, yes, you are!" he wheedled. "And we'll take him with us when wego to our summer home up the Hudson River. Such a fine time you andthe boys will have cantering over the country roads!"

For an instant Polly's eyes sparkled over the picture. Then she cameback. 

"Uncle Maurice, " she declared, "there isn't a bit of use in yourtrying to make me want to go and live with you! I wouldn't leavefather and mother for a hundred thousand ponies and parties and pinkdresses and everything!" She slid from her uncle's arm, and ran overto the Doctor, where she hid her face on his shoulder, breaking intosoft sobs. 

Mrs. Dudley drew her gently away and upstairs. She ended her cry onher mother's breast. 

When she was called down to bid her uncle good-bye, no mention wasmade of the subject which had brought the tears, and she thanked himvery sweetly for his invitation to visit them sometime in the nearfuture. Yet she watched him drive away in his handsome motor-car witha feeling of relief, and her wave of farewell was accompanied by aradiant smile. 

CHAPTER XII

LITTLE CHRIS

Polly dreaded the next meeting with her Cousin Floyd, for sheanticipated his disappointment at her decision. But he took the newscheerfully. 

"Just wait till we get you down to our house!" he laughed. "We'll giveyou so good a time you'll forget there ever was a Fair Harbor. "

Polly smiled contentedly. This was so much pleasanter than her uncle'sinsistence. 

Yet when his eyes were free to look upon her, his gayety vanished. 

"So like my mother!" he murmured. "Not the eyes, --hers were blue, --butthe mouth and the expression of the face--yes, and the forehead!--theyare mother's right over again!" His lips drooped sorrowfully. "Youbring her back to me better than a picture. It is a shame, " heregretted, "when you belong to us, that we can't have you under ourroof!"

"I'm sorry, " Polly sighed. "I wish I could be in two places. "

"One would be quite enough, " laughed Floyd, "if only that were NewYork. Oh, come on, Polly! We'll have no end of a good time. "

She shook her head slowly, the red fluttering on her cheeks. "Ican't, " she told him; "truly I can't!"

"All right, " he responded, and touched the subject no more; yet Pollywas troubled at the seriousness of his face. Finding relatives was notcomplete joy after all. 

The good-byes, which came soon, brought no further word from him inregard to her decision; but he urged an early visit, to which Pollyand her parents agreed. 

The taxicab that carried Floyd and his luggage to the station wasbarely out of sight when Polly spied a familiar little figure on thehospital walk. 

"There's Moses Cohn!" she cried. "I wonder what he is coming for. "

"Hullo, Polly!" was the friendly call, the freckled face under theshabby hat shining with delight. 

She waved him a welcome, dancing about in the cold of the morninguntil he came up. They went inside together, Moses eagerly unfoldinghis errand. 

"I've been tellin' a kid 'bout Dr. Dudley and you, " he began. "He'ssick, awful sick, and his father wouldn't have no doctor, and Chris hekeeps a-growin' worser 'n worser. So I said how Dr. Dudley could curehim quicker 'n lightnin', and I guess he'll bring him up--he 'mostpromised. "

"It might be better for me to see him first, " observed the physician. 

"No, sir! he said 'xpressly for you not to come!"

"Then I can send the ambulance--"

"No, he don't want that neither! He's goin' to bring him right in hisarms. Why, I could myself--easy! He's the littlest kid, an' han'some!My, he's a beaut! Jus' wait till you see him! He ain't but nine yearsold. He goes to my school, or did before he was sick. His father's gotthe money--you bet! An' my! he thinks that kid's it! He is, too! Iguess they'll be here pretty soon--he 'most promised. "

On the strength of Moses Cohn's story, Dr. Dudley ordered a bed to beprepared for the probable patient; but he did not arrive until eveningand Polly had given up his coming. Then the father insisted on aprivate room for his little son, remaining himself to see thateverything was provided for his comfort. 

"Good-bye, Chris! Keep up a big bluff! Daddy'll be here in the morningsure!" That was what the attending nurse overheard of the parting. Aminute after the door had shut, she discovered her little patientshedding silent tears for "daddy"; but he brightened quickly at hercheering words, and soon dropped into a quiet sleep. 

Polly was anxious to see the boy of whom Moses had told her, but theslow fever from which he was suffering kept him a stranger for manydays. When, at last, she was allowed to pay him a visit, even Moses'description of his friend had not prepared her for the beautiful wispof a lad with the sky-blue eyes and the red-gold hair. Polly thoughtshe had never seen so lovely a face. Her smile brought a shy responsefrom the pillow, though talk did not at once flourish. 

"Father says you are better, " Polly ventured. 

Only a wee nod answered her. 

"I've been wanting to come in before, " she persevered. "Moses Cohntold me about you. "

A faint smile. 

"Do you like it here at the hospital?" Polly questioned adroitly. 

No smile now, only an added wistfulness. Then courtesy brought a softresponse. 

"I like it evenings, when daddy comes. "

"It's nice you have him to come to see you. I used to wish I hadsomebody. There was only Aunt Jane, and I guess she was too busy. "

"Were you sick, too?" The sky-blue eyes showed interest. 

"I was hurt, and they brought me here. I lived in the hospital ever solong. "

"Weren't you lonesome?"

"No, only once in a while, when I saw other folks having company. Iwas in the ward, you know. After I got acquainted with father--hewasn't my father then--I didn't mind. Don't you just love father?Everybody does!"

"Yes; he's nice, " smiled the boy. "How did he come to be your father?"

"He and mother adopted me. My own papa and mamma are in Heaven. "

"Oh! are they? That's where mommy is. Daddy is all I've got. I wishyou'd come and see daddy sometime. He gets here every night rightafter six o'clock. "

"I'd love to!" Polly beamed. "Fathers are beautiful, I think. Ofcourse, mothers are--but fathers!" Her curls gave the emphasis. 

"I know!" cried little Chris, his eyes ashine. "Daddy's the dearestthat ever was! Why, if anything should happen to daddy--there might, while I'm here and can't take care of him!--oh, I don't know what Ishould do!" Fear crept over the sweet face. 

"I wouldn't worry about it, " counseled Polly cheerily. "Big men cantake care of themselves better than little folks like us can. "

"Daddy isn't very big, " confided Chris in a low tone; "but he'sstrong, strong as anything! I guess there couldn't much hurt him, could there?" he smiled reassuringly. 

"No, indeed!" assented Polly. 

"He is so strong he brought me 'way up here in his arms, " the ladexulted, "and he wasn't tired a bit! I wish he could come and staywith me daytimes, " the wistful voice went on, "but he has to sleepthen. He watches, you know. "

"And you have to stay alone all night?" Polly's eyes showed sympathy. 

"Oh! daddy doesn't go away till after I'm asleep, " the lad explained, "and he is home again before I wake up. A nice woman in the next roomcomes in if I call her. I never did but once, and that was when I fellout of bed. I gave a little cry before I knew anything. It didn't hurtme a mite, but she was scared, and daddy was, too. He wouldn't leaveme the next night. "

Dr. Dudley's entrance put a stop to the talk, and presently Polly saidgood-bye, carrying away with her a happy picture of Moses Cohn'sprotégé. 

When Polly first saw "daddy" she was conscious of disappointment. Theslight man with the cold black eyes and the hard-lined mouth did nottally with her thought of "the dearest that ever was. " Yet hisgreeting was pleasant, and whenever he spoke to his little son atenderness stole into his voice that made her regard him with morelenient eyes, and before her visit was over he proved himself sofascinating an entertainer, she went away feeling that the opinion oflittle Chris was not after all so very far from the truth. 

One night "daddy" did not appear, until the sick boy, who for hourshad strained his ears for the step he loved, was in a state ofagitation which the combined efforts of nurse and physician failed tocalm. 

At last Polly was summoned, and although her arguments were not unlikethose put forth by the others, they were made in such simple faith asto carry greater force. 

"He'd come if he was alive! I know he would!" the boy had beentearfully reiterating. "He must be dead--oh, daddy! daddy!"

Polly entered in time to hear the last. She skipped straight to thecot. 

"Now, Chris, just listen to me! Your daddy isn't dead!"

"How do you know?" he asked weakly. There was a touch of hope in thedoubting tone. 

"Why, we'd have heard of it long before this, if he were, " shereasoned rashly. 

"We might not, " he objected. 

"Oh, yes, we should have!" she insisted. "Because everybody knowsyou're at the hospital, and they'd send word to father first thing. "

"They would, wouldn't they?" he brightened. 

"Of course, " she returned confidently. 

"But why doesn't he come?" he persisted. 

"Oh, I don't know, " she replied cheerfully. "Maybe he had to go awayon business--father does sometimes, and can't stop for anything. But Iwouldn't worry another bit, if I were you. When he comes and tells youall about it, you'll wonder why you didn't think it was allright--just as it is. "

Chris said nothing, only gazed into Polly's face, as if to gathereven more assurance than her words had given him. 

"I'm going to tell you about a blizzard we had last winter, " Pollywent on, "when father went to New York and mother was sick, and I wasall alone. " Then, seeing she had her hearer's attention, she began thestory of the well-remembered February day. 

Her voice was soft and soothing, and before the tale was half-told thesky-blue eyes closed and the tired little boy was asleep. This waswell, as the messenger who had finally been sent to Mr. Morrow'sboarding-place returned with the word that the man had not been theresince early the previous day, and nobody knew where he had gone. 

The next morning Chris received from his father a short letter sayingthat urgent business had suddenly called him to New York, where he hadbeen most unexpectedly detained so that he might not be able to returnhome under a day or two, but that he should come to the hospital justas soon as he arrived in Fair Harbor. A number of beautiful post-cardswere inclosed in the envelope, one of which was immediately laid asidefor Polly, and then at once exchanged for another that might be a bitmore attractive. This exchange went on for some time, until she hadbeen allotted them all in turn, and the nurse was finally called intocounsel for a last decision. 

When Polly came in for a flying visit before school, she was given herpresent, which she received with genuine pleasure, for the little cardwas an exquisite creation, and the fact that Chris wished her to havethe very prettiest of his treasures made it doubly dear. 

Three days dragged by before Mr. Morrow again appeared at thehospital. Then it was at a much later hour than usual, and the smallboy was asleep. His father insisted on awakening him, however, andtheir meeting, the nurse asserted, was not without tears on bothsides. 

On the day that little Chris was to leave the hospital, Polly paid hima long visit, and there were many plans and promises for the future. It was arranged that Chris should come up to see Polly at least everySaturday, as soon as he was well enough, and until that time Pollywas to ride across the city with her father to visit him. When, atlast, the six o'clock bell told of a supper that would soon be comingin on a tray, and of the one awaiting Polly at home, the good-byes hadto be said. Then the lad drew from beneath his pillow a small leathercase. 

"I wanted to give you something, " he said wistfully, "so daddy boughtme this. I hope you'll like it. I think it's pretty. "

Polly opened the dainty box, to find, on a cushion of white velvet, anexquisite pansy pin, with green-gold leaves, the blossom studded withsapphires and diamonds. 

"Oh, how beautiful!" she cried delightedly. "I never saw anything solovely. "

"I thought you'd like it, " he beamed. "Just hold it up to yourneck--it looks sweet there! You'll keep it always to remember me by, won't you?"

"Forever, " promised Polly. "Oh, it is so nice of your father to buy itfor me!"

"He's always nice, " praised Chris. "There couldn't be anybody better. "And for the moment Polly almost agreed with him. 

But when Dr. Dudley saw the pretty ornament he looked grave. 

"It is far too expensive a present for you to accept, " he objected. "Diamonds and sapphires are costly stones. This must be worth a greatdeal of money. "

"Can't I keep it then?" questioned Polly plaintively. "It will breakChris's heart if I don't. "

"We needn't decide the matter to-night. " He looked across the table tohis wife. "What do you think?" he asked. 

"I don't know, " was the doubtful reply. "How can Mr. Morrow buy suchjewelry, do you suppose? A night watchman's position cannot bring himvery high wages. "

The Doctor shook his head, and narrowed his eyes in thought. Then hebegan to talk of other things. 

Meantime Polly was in distress. What would Chris say, if she had togive back his beautiful present which she had promised always to keep?

The next afternoon Dr. Dudley brought the matter to a climax bydriving over to see the father of little Chris. Perhaps a talk withhim would put things in a different light. Thus reasoning, he rangthe doorbell at Mr. Morrow's boarding-house. 

"They ain't here, " began the woman who answered his summons. "They gotoff, bag and baggage, before breakfast, this morning. He paid up allright, " she exulted, "an' when they do that I'm done with 'em. He wasa good payin' man straight along, I'll say that for him; but wherehe's gone I do' know no more 'n West Peak!"

Questioning among the boarders brought no satisfaction, and the Doctorreturned home mystified and suspicious. 

It was long before Polly saw little Chris again. 

CHAPTER XIII

ILGA BARRON

Spring was in Fair Harbor. Tulips and hyacinths flaunted their gaygowns in the city parks, and daffodils laughed in old-fashionedgardens. Flocks of blackbirds, by the suburb roadsides, creaked theirjoy in the sunshine, and robins caroled love ditties to their mates. Mrs. Jocelyn's stable, too, told of spring's coming, for there stoodone of the prettiest pairs of ponies that ever trotted before acarriage. 

Already Leonora was becoming an experienced little horsewoman, thoughwhenever she drove there was always Philip, Mrs. Jocelyn's man, ridingclose behind. Polly had had a dozen drives with David and Jonathan, and Elsie and Brida and the others had not been forgotten. 

On a Saturday morning Leonora telephoned early and invited Polly to goto Crab Cove, some six miles away. The day was perfect, blueoverhead, green along the waysides, and sunshine all around. The girlswere in a merry mood. 

"There's Ilga Barron out in her yard, " remarked Polly, looking ahead. 

"M-h'm, " replied Leonora indifferently, glancing that way. 

"You haven't taken her to ride yet, have you?" Polly went on. 

"No, and I'm not going to, " was the decided answer. 

"Why, you'll have to ask her sometime, shan't you?" insisted Polly. "Say, Leonora, drive slow a minute!"

"What do you want?" began the other, a bit of impatience in her tone. 

"I just happened to think, "--the words were tumbling out fast, --"I'vehad ever so many rides, and Patricia and Lilith and Gladys have, andIlga will feel it if she is skipped. Mayn't I run over and ask her totake my place for this once? I can go any time, you know! Do youmind?" for Leonora's face showed disapproval. 

"Oh, dear! I don't want her!" fretted the little driver. "I wish shehadn't been out there. I wish we'd gone some other way. Yes, goahead, if you want to!" she yielded, seeing Polly's wistful eyes. "I'll try to be good to her. "

The carriage stopped in front of the big granite house, and theexchange was soon made. Ilga was only too ready for a drive behind theponies which were the envy of every girl who saw them. 

Polly waved them a gay good-bye, and turned towards home. 

"I believe I'll go up to Patricia's, " she said to herself. "Motherwon't expect me back for an hour or two, and Patricia wanted me to seeher new dresses. It'll be a good time. "

Thus thinking, she took the street that led to The Trowbridge, and waspresently admiring Patricia's pretty frocks. Time passed quickly, andit was nearly ten o'clock when she finally started for home. 

As she rounded the corner below Lady Gay Cottage, she saw her father'sautomobile in front, and then the Doctor himself coming down the walkon a run. 

"Oh, maybe I can go with him!" she thought, and sprang ahead. "Father! father!" she called. 

Dr. Dudley turned, and came swiftly towards her. He caught her in hisarms, --"Polly!" his voice breaking as she had never heard it before. "You aren't hurt at all?" Incredulity was in his tone. 

"Hurt? Why, no! How should I be?"

He left her, leaping up the steps, and throwing wide the door. Sheheard him call:--

"Lucy! she is here!--safe!"

Polly hurried after, to be clasped tightly in her mother's arms withexcited expressions of thankfulness. 

"What is it?" she pleaded. "I don't see what it all means!"

"We heard that the ponies ran away, " the Doctor explained, "and thatone of you was hurt--badly. Somebody thought it was not Leonora, and, of course--"

"Oh, Ilga!" broke in Polly. And she told of how the exchange had beenmade. 

Dr. Dudley hastened away, to learn the truth of the matter, whilePolly and her mother tried to settle into something like calmness. 

By chance callers and over the wire came snatches of facts concerningthe accident. Nobody seemed to know what had startled the ponies, butLeonora had pluckily held to the reins until a hill was reached, thereby averting injury to herself. Ilga, becoming frightened, hadjumped from the carriage, with serious results. It had occurred whilePhilip had gone into a shop for some purchase, leaving his own horseand the little team at the curb. When he came out the ponies weredashing across the railway tracks ahead of a coming train, and he wasobliged to wait behind the gates until the small carriage was out ofsight. 

It was not until the Doctor returned that the nature of Ilga'sinjuries were known. 

"Dr. Palmer and Dr. Houston are attending her, " the physician said. "Ihave heard nothing direct from them, but it is rumored that the girl'sback is broken. "

"Poor Ilga!" burst out Polly, and hid her face in her hands amid atorrent of tears. "It is all my fault!" she moaned. "It is all myfault! If I hadn't asked her, she wouldn't have got hurt!"

Father and mother tried to soothe her; but her sensitive heartshouldered the entire blame of Ilga's accident, and it required muchreasoning before she was able to look at the matter in a true light. 

Further reports confirmed the first rumors about the unfortunate girl. It was extremely doubtful, the physicians thought, if she ever walkedagain. Dr. Dudley and his wife kept the sad tidings as much aspossible from Polly; but she was obliged to hear talk of it at school, and often she would come home at noon only to spoil her dinner withtears. 

One evening Polly was, as usual, perched on the arm of her father'schair, when he surprised her with some news. 

"I had the pleasure of making Miss Ilga's acquaintance to-day. "

Polly's eyes widened incredulously. 

"She is at the hospital, " he continued, "and has passed through asuccessful operation. It is too soon to be quite positive, buteverything looks favorable to-night. "

"Is she going to be able to walk?"

"We hope so. "

Polly dropped her head on her father's shoulder, and sighed a deepsigh of joy. 

"How perfectly beautiful! And to think you have done it!" She caughther breath. 

The Doctor rested his cheek lightly on the sunny curls, sayingnothing. They were still sitting in silence when Mrs. Dudley came in. Polly and her father understood each other without words. 

The Senator's daughter carried out the hopes of the doctors to thehighest degree, and there came a day when Polly, at Ilga's ownrequest, was sent for. 

Miss Hortensia Price was the sick girl's nurse, and Polly had learnedwith surprise that a strong friendship was growing between them. Nevertheless she was unprepared for any manifestation of it, and herjoy in seeing their evident love for each other made the first momentsof her visit less conscious than they otherwise might have been, forshe had been wondering if her schoolmate attached any blame to her forthe injuries received in the accident. 

"Miss Price knows--I've told her!"--Ilga began abruptly; "but I wantyou to know, for they said you cried when you heard I was hurt, andyou thought it was your fault. It wasn't! Not the least bit! It wasall mine! Mrs. Jocelyn's man went into the store, and told us to wait. I didn't see why we should, --and I don't now, if the ponies wereproperly trained. I wanted just to drive around the square, butLeonora wouldn't; so I began to fool with the whip. I switched itabout, and teased the ponies. Leonora said she'd never touched themwith it, and I told her I didn't see what a whip was good for if itwasn't used--and I don't! If she'd been quiet, I shouldn't have beenso possessed about it; but she kept saying, 'Don't, Ilga! Pleasedon't, Ilga!' and I hate being nagged. So finally I gave it a goodsmart flirt, and off they went like a shot! Of course, I was scared, and hardly knew what I did do. Leonora said, real low, 'Keep still!Don't stir!' I do' know as I should have jumped, if she hadn't told menot to. But I did, and that's the last I knew till the doctors werefussing over me. "

"But you're going to get well now!" Polly burst out delightedly. 

The pale face on the pillow reflected the joy. "Yes, " Ilga replied, "Iguess I am, unless they all lie to me. I know Miss Price doesn't, "with a nodding smile towards the window where the nurse sat reading. "But I didn't s'pose I ever should one time. I don't b'lieve I shouldeither, if it hadn't been for Dr. Dudley. Polly, your father is justsplendid!"

Polly's eyes suddenly filled with happy tears. This was something shehad not anticipated--at least, not yet. 

The nurse came with a few spoonfuls of nourishment, and the talkpassed to other things; but Polly went away feeling that Ilga's praisewas her apology, and that her enemy had been miraculously changed intoa friend. 

Yet there were hours when the old Ilga was at the front, domineeringand impertinent, and Polly would be called upon to exercise all hertact and patience in order to keep things pleasant during her visits. But, little by little, as the convalescent gathered strength of bodyshe also gained in self-control. Miss Price and Polly were her adoredexamples of beautiful living, and it was plain that she was honestlytrying to attain to what she admired in them, although thedissimilarity of eleven and thirty made the task somewhat moredifficult. 

Miss Hortensia Price seemed to Polly to be more gentle than in the olddays. Or was it that she now understood her better? She could nottell; but it was as unending a wonderment as a joy that the dignifiednurse and the untrained, ungoverned girl should have become such closefriends. 

On the day set for Ilga to try walking across her room she had planneda small tea-party for her chosen comrades. 

"Wouldn't it be wiser, my dear, to wait until the next day?" MissPrice had suggested, not daring to hint more strongly of thepossibility of the blasting of their hopes. "The excitement andpleasure of being on your feet again should be sufficient forWednesday. "

But Ilga, sanguine and joyous, wished her friends there to witness herachievement, and so the preparations had gone on. 

Miss Price was to be the guest of honor, and Polly, Patricia, David, Gustave, and June English and her brother were to make up the party. Mrs. Barron was sparing neither trouble nor money to please herdaughter, and there were to be guessing contests, with prizes for thesuccessful ones. It was quite out of Ilga's power to keep a secret, soPolly had been treated to a glimpse of the dear little pussy-headpins, with the emerald eyes, and had heard all about the odd-shapedsandwiches and the curious cakes representing animals, birds, andvarious other objects, the guessing of which was to be the feature ofthe tea. She had even peeped at one of the beautiful boxes ofconfections which stood ready to be given the departing guests assweet good-byes, until she was looking forward to the party almost asjoyfully as Ilga herself. And then the New York letter came. 

Ilga noticed the change as soon as Polly appeared. 

"What's the matter?" she asked abruptly. 

Polly had been bravely trying to smile, but at the sudden question thecorners of her mouth flew down. 

"How'd you know there was anything?" she faltered. 

"Hoh, I can read you like a book! Your mother sick?"

"No, oh, no! But I can't be here at the party!"

"Why not?" Ilga raised herself on her elbow. 

"We had a letter from Cousin Floyd last night, and they want me tocome to New York Wednesday morning. "

"Well, you aren't obliged to go, if they do! Oh, you haven't a bit ofspunk!"

"It isn't that, Ilga. Father thinks I ought to go, seeing it's myvacation, and so does mother. Two of my girl cousins that I haven'tever seen are going to sail for Germany in a day or two, and theyaren't coming back for years, maybe, and they want me to help themreceive at their farewell party--"

"Oh, yes! I s'pose their party's better'n mine!" Ilga burst outscornfully. "If you do go, Polly Dudley, let me tell you I'll neverspeak--"

"My dear!" Miss Price arrested the rash words on Ilga's lips, andtook the hot cheeks between her cool palms. 

The excited girl sobbed out her penitence and her disappointment inthe nurse's arms, while Polly sat by, distressed at the way thingswere going. 

When the tears were spent, the three talked the matter overquietly, --or as quietly as Ilga would allow. At first she decidedperemptorily that if Polly could not be there she would have no partyat all; but arguments and persuasions finally had their effect, andthe plans were left unaltered, Glen Stewart being chosen in place ofPolly. 

CHAPTER XIV

POLLY IN NEW YORK

Polly's first journey by herself caused a good deal of excitement inLady Gay Cottage. Mrs. Dudley was a little nervous at thought of it, the Doctor wondered at the very last moment if he had been unwise toallow her to go alone, and for Polly herself the new experience almostpushed Ilga Barron and the tea-party from her mind. But the miles weretraveled without any startling adventure, and in two hours she was inNew York, with Cousin Floyd clasping her in his arms and telling herhow glad he was to see her. 

The next days were so crammed with novel sights and undreamed-ofpleasures that Polly felt as if she were in a new kind ofmerry-go-round and must stop and take breath. But she whirled onand on, in company with her cousins and other girls and boys, andeverybody was so kind and so gay that she found not a moment to behomesick or lonely in, although Fair Harbor seemed a very long wayoff. 

From the first she and her Cousin Harold were comrades. Theydiscovered that they had read the same books, that they enjoyed thesame sports, that they loved the same flowers and songs and fairy-taleheroes. Harold had always envied boys with sisters, and now his dreamof a sister for himself seemed actually to have come to pass--only heknew that the waking time must be soon. 

Ever since it had been decided that Polly should come to New York shehad wondered with a vague fear if her relatives would urge her toremain with them; but for a few days nothing was said of it. ThenHarold spoke out. 

"I wish you were really my sister, " he told her, as they stoodtogether watching the antics of some monkeys at the Hippodrome; "thenwe could come here every Saturday. "

"You couldn't come, " Polly laughed. "You'd be away at school. "

"No, " was the serious reply, "I should get father to let me go toschool here. If you'd stay and be my cousin-sister, it would be justexactly as good--oh, Polly! won't you?"

Her lips drooped sorrowfully. "I can't! truly I can't!" she answered, just as she had answered his brother, in Fair Harbor. 

Then they went past the cage of the very funniest monkeys of all, andHarold did not even smile. 

The day before the one set for Polly's going home she was given agrand party by her cousins, and Uncle Maurice ordered the affair witha free hand. She had never seen a house so converted into a garden offlowers. Wandering about from room to room, she and Harold watched themen as they placed potted plants, twined garlands, banked windows andfireplaces with vines and blossoms, and arranged pretty nooks ofgreenery and color. Finally they sat down in a little make-believearbor of roses, Polly busily admiring everything. 

Harold was more quiet; he was even grave. At last his thoughts becamewords. 

"Oh, Polly, stay with me! do! I want you!"

"Why, Harold, you know I told you I couldn't!" she answered, almostreprovingly. 

"I know you say so, " he retorted; "but you can! You can as well asnot! You just don't want to--that's why! But I think you might, toplease me! Do, Polly!"

She plucked a bit of green from her cousin's coat sleeve before shereplied. 

"I don't see how I could leave father and mother, " she said softly. "You wouldn't want to give up your home here and your father andbrothers to go and live with me. "

"Yes, I would!" was the unexpected response. "I'd go in a minute!Polly, I'd go anywhere or do anything for you!"

The boy believed it, and, looking into his earnest eyes, Polly almostbelieved it, too. She did not know how to answer. Then she shifted theviewpoint. 

"But father and mother--you don't think of them! How could they getalong without any little girl?--without me?"

Harold thought and sighed. This was a new light on the matter. 

"No, they couldn't, " he admitted slowly. "They've known you longerthan I have, and I don't see how they could give you up. Well, Isuppose I shall have to let you go. " He looked the disconsolate lover, instead of the merry-hearted boy of ten. 

Two weeks before, when Polly's small trunk had been packed, she hadbegged to be allowed to take with her the parting present of ChrisMorrow, for hitherto there had been no occasion grand enough towarrant its being used. At first Mrs. Dudley had been in doubt, butafter a few quite reasonable arguments on the part of Polly the littlecase had been tucked into a safe corner. The beautiful ornament hadalready fastened Polly's sash a number of times, and it was againcalled into service for the home party. She was in a hurry when themaid clasped it, for Harold was calling her to come out in the halland see the caterers bring the things in, and before the evening washalf spent her sash was trailing out of place and the pin missing. Hastily she confided to her cousin her misfortune, and together theysearched up and down the rooms. Finally, just as Harold was startingto tell Floyd of the loss, they heard a cry of surprise from one ofthe guests not far away, and they saw that the pansy pin was in herhand. 

"I found it right down here!" the girl was saying excitedly. "Where doyou s'pose it came from? Oh, it's just like one my sister had that wasstolen by a burglar last winter--why!" as the back of the pin wasdisclosed, "it is hers! There's the 'B' I scratched one day, and Tipgave me an awful scolding for it! I was going to scratch my wholename, but she caught me too quick--my, didn't she come at me!"

Harold waited for no more. 

"It belongs to my cousin, " he explained. "She just lost it from hersash, and we've been hunting everywhere for it. "

He held out his hand for the ornament, but the finder clasped ittightly in her palm. 

"It is my sister's, " she declared. "The burglars--"

"Botheration!" he cried. "Of course, it isn't the same pin! This oneis Polly's. It was a present to her, and she thinks a lot of it. "

"But I scratched the 'B'--"

"Probably somebody else scratched this. Did you, Polly?" turning tohis cousin. 

"No, " she admitted slowly, "I didn't; but I noticed the 'B, ' andwondered how it came to be there. I don't see how it could have beenyour sister's, " she said, addressing the girl who still kept the pinhidden in her hand. "Chris's father bought it for him to give to me. "

Those most interested in this little controversy were now surroundedby the young guests who were eager to know the cause of the dispute. Floyd and Julian pressed near, but before they reached Polly's sideshe had bravely settled the question. 

"Keep the pin, " she yielded gently. "I should not wish to have it backagain if you think it belongs to your sister. Come, Harold!" andturning from the little crowd she ran into the arms of Floyd. 

He drew her away to a retired spot, followed only by the eyes of a fewcurious ones, and the story was told, beginning with little Chris andending with Bertha Kingstone. 

Polly was close to tears as she finished, and Harold was openlyindignant that she should have allowed Bertha to keep the pin. 

"Of course, there are two pins!" he declared vehemently. "This onenever belonged to Tip Kingstone. If you don't get it away from her, Floyd Westwood, I will!" His flashing eyes emphasized his hot words, and he would have carried out his threat if it had not been for hisbrother's authoritative advice to let things be as they had fallenuntil their father could be consulted. 

This little episode came near upsetting the party, but Aunt SallyCalhoun was a diplomat of no mean degree, and under her tactfulmanagement things quickly regained their smooth course. Yet Polly wentto sleep that night wishing with all her heart that she had neverbrought her precious pansy pin to New York. 

The next morning, just as she was putting on her hat and coat to go tothe station, a maid appeared at her door with a card. She read, engraved in small script, "Bertha Curtis Kingstone, " and she wonderedwith a joyful wonder why she had come to see her. 

The girl that met her downstairs in the reception room seemed a verydifferent Bertha from the one of the night before. She held out thepin. 

"Mother says I have no right to this, " she began abruptly, "and I begyour pardon for keeping it. " The words were spoken in a low, monotonous voice, as if they were a lesson. "I am sorry I was so rude, and I trust you will excuse me. "

Polly was at once generous. 

"Oh, it may be yours!" she responded. "I'm afraid I ought not to takeit back. "

"Mercy!" the other broke out, "I guess you'll have to! I've hadscoldings enough over the old pin! I wouldn't carry it home again fora bushel of 'em!"

"I am sorry you have been scolded, " sympathized Polly. 

"Oh, I don't care!" Bertha returned. "I'm used to it. But I hate toapologize--that's the worst of doing things. Good-bye!"

Polly ran to find Harold, to share with him her joy in the restoredpin; but the lad was not to be seen. Nor did he appear to bid hergood-bye, although she lingered to search for him until she came nearmissing her train. What could have happened? Fear haunted her all theway home. 

CHAPTER XV

AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

One of Polly's first questions on her return was of Ilga Barron. Ifshe had not been so over-occupied while in New York, the fact that nota word was written her of Ilga would have given her great concern. Asit was she had had only time for brief surprise on receipt of letteror card; then it would slip from her mind. But now she eagerly awaitedher mother's answer. It was slow in coming, and then was accompaniedby an ominous shake of the head. 

"Ilga's party day ended sadly. Her first few steps were such a joythat she forgot herself, and started on with a skip. Her footcaught--"

"Oh!" cried Polly in consternation, "did she fall?"

Mrs. Dudley nodded, hastening to say, "Your father thinks she willcome out all right in time, but there will have to be a long waiting. She realizes it is her own fault, for Miss Price warned her to becareful; but that doesn't make it any easier to bear. "

"Poor Ilga!" mourned Polly. "While I was having such a splendid timeshe was feeling so bad! I'll go to see her right away, and tell herall about my visit. Perhaps that will help her to forget. "

So Polly found her work waiting for her, and she took it up with herusual readiness; but it was hard to settle into the regular schoolroutine after the exciting whirl of that gay fortnight. Cards had comefrom Floyd and Harold, but the absence of the latter when she leftthem was not even mentioned. This she could not understand, for shehad expected an apology as the very least amends he could make. Takenaltogether such rudeness seemed to Polly unpardonable, after Harold'sprotested affection. Still his message was as warm-hearted and lovingas ever, and she wisely tried to put the matter aside as one of thethings that could not be explained away. 

When she had been at home a week, and New York was beginning to fadeinto the past, she returned from afternoon school to find nobody insight as she entered the back door. Quietly she went through thehouse, and hearing voices in the library she halted to ascertain ifthere were company. A few words arrested her. 

"It is a shame for you to have to do so much for so little, " Mrs. Dudley was saying. 

The Doctor laughed softly. Polly could almost hear his eyes twinkle. 

"You, too!" he retorted. 

"Nonsense!" she protested; "all I'm doing is to try to keep thehousehold expenses down as low as possible. "

"And that is the main thing. You have done admirably. I hoped we couldbe out of pinch before long--and now this cut-down in salary!"

"Never mind! we shall get on all right, " came in Mrs. Dudley's cheerytones. 

"Of course, " the Doctor agreed; "but it means too much scrimp for you. It is what I did not anticipate. If I had more time for outsidepractice"--he stopped, as if musing. "And if it weren't for the coalbill!"

"That coal bill is your bugbear, " laughed his wife. "Don't worry, Robert! It isn't like you. Winship isn't bothering you about it, ishe?"

"Not a bit. It is only that I hate debt, and--"

Polly involuntarily tiptoed away, feeling strangely guilty at havingoverheard what was not intended for her ears. So her father's salaryhad been cut down! And it was small enough before! She had heard thecoal bill spoken of awhile ago, --yes, when she was getting ready forNew York, --but she had given it no thought. And her mother had boughther new things to wear! Distress swept her heart. She was an addedexpense--ought she to have gone to live with her uncle? He was rich. He could pay his coal bills. He was never in pinch. Oh! did her fatherand mother wish she had gone? There was no peace for Polly. Dutifullyshe crept over to the hospital to see Ilga, but found her in a pettishmood, and she returned home more disturbed than before. She longed tooffer her bank money again, but she knew it would be of no use. Besides, she did not wish her father and mother to know she had beeneavesdropping. She blushed with shame at the thought. Why had she notrun away at once, or gone boldly into the room. Oh, how she wished shehad!

Bedtime found her in the same frame of mind, although she tried toappear as if nothing had occurred. She had bidden her mothergood-night, and her foot was on the stair, when the doorbell rang. 

"I'll go, " she called softly into the library, and then skipped toanswer the summons. 

As the door opened she gave a surprised little scream. 

"Harold Westwood!"

The boy darted inside, clasping his cousin with a glad cry. 

"I supposed you were at boarding-school, " Polly told him. 

"I was, " the lad replied a bit shamefacedly. Then bravely, "I ran awayto see you!"

"Why, Harold!"

"I don't care!" was the dogged response. "I had to!"

"I shouldn't think they'd have let you come in the night, " saidPolly, leading him into the library. 

The introduction relieved the lad of the necessity of an answer; butPolly innocently plied her questions. 

"Why didn't Julian come, too? Was it a half-holiday?"

For an instant Harold looked disconcerted. Then he replied boldly:--

"Jule doesn't know! I tell you, I ran away!"

Polly's eyes widened in astonishment. Mrs. Dudley smiledunderstandingly. 

"I gave the conductor my watch for security, " the boy went on. "I toldhim how 'twas, and he let me ride, --I guess out of his own pocket. Hewas a good one! You see, I spent all my money in a jiffy for the firstpart of the way and something to eat. I didn't s'pose tickets cost somuch. "

"You dear child!" murmured Mrs. Dudley, her eyes soft with sympathy. Then she caught him in her arms, as if he had been a baby. 

"Have you had any supper?"

A weary little negative sent her into the pantry, and soon the hungrylad was eating bread and butter and cheese and cookies, and feastinghis eyes upon Polly at the same time. 

"Say, where in the world were you when I came away from your house?"was the sudden inquiry. 

"Out in the garage, " Harold answered promptly. 

"But didn't you hear us call?"

He nodded, his lips puckered into a half-smile. 

"Why didn't you answer, then?" Polly was plainly puzzled. 

"Because, " he blurted out defiantly, "I wasn't coming to say good-byefor anybody!"

"Perhaps you thought, with Dickens, " interposed Mrs. Dudleyconsiderately, "that it is easier to act good-bye than to say it. "

"It is!" declared Harold, wagging his head. "I guess he knew!"

Over the wires, after the children were asleep, went messages toschool and home that banished anxiety, and then the Doctor and hiswife talked long into the night. It had been a disturbing day. 

At breakfast Harold announced his intention of remaining in FairHarbor and going to school with Polly, but an early telegram from hisfather ended his happy planning. He scowled as he read the yellowslip. 

"Return to school at once, and behave yourself. "

"Botheration!" he grumbled, "I s'pose I'll have to! Pop always meanswhat he says. "

Yet the lad enjoyed his breakfast, judging by the number of bananasand muffins that disappeared from his plate, until Polly, thinking ofyesterday's overheard talk, wondered what they should have done if hercousin had followed out his desire. Bananas cost; she was not so sureabout muffins. In consequence of which she restricted her own appetiteto the latter, and made her mother question if she were quite well, topass by her favorite fruit. 

Equipped with tickets for the journey and sufficient money to redeemhis watch, besides a generous luncheon, Harold was put aboard the teno'clock train. Notwithstanding his longing heart, he carried himselfpluckily, consoled by Mrs. Dudley's invitation to spend a week of hissummer's vacation in Fair Harbor. Yet she saw him suspiciously sweephis eyes with the back of his hand as the train whirled him off, andshe sighed in sympathy, thinking, "Poor little fellow! he needs amother!"

CHAPTER XVI

ROSES AND THORNS

David pulled a rose from the little bush by the house corner, andbegan to chew its petals. 

"Don't do that!" begged Polly. "It doesn't want to be eaten up. "

The boy laughed, looking ruefully down at the jagged edges of theflower. 

"It isn't sweet anyway, " he argued. "If I were a rose I'd be sweet, and I wouldn't have thorns. But then, " he went on thoughtfully, "people are a good deal like roses. Some are sweet, and some aren't;but 'most everybody has thorns somewhere. "

"I guess one of mine's laziness, " sighed Polly, "and it's beenpricking the teachers all this week. I hate to study in such warmweather! I want to stay outdoors instead of being shut up in a stuffyroom. "

"It is horrid, " agreed Patricia, "but I don't dare be lazy. I have toget good reports to send back to Nevada. If I didn't stand high, papa'd have a conniption. "

"I'm going to study better next week, " decided Polly, "so I'll be athornless rose, like you. "

"Dear me, I have thorns enough!" Patricia laughed. "Mamma says I'mselfish and careless and, oh, I don't know what! So, you see, theyscratch her. What's your thorn, David?"

"Jealousy, " he replied promptly. 

Patricia looked surprised. 

"Who are you jealous of?" she queried curiously. 

"Nobody just this minute. " He threw a furtive glance in Polly'sdirection, over the rose he was nipping again; but she was occupiedwith the tendrils of a vine that were wandering from their support. 

"I wish we had some Lady Gay roses to cover our old bare piazza, " hebroke out abruptly. "Yours are fine. " He looked admiringly towards thelittle cottage next door, now beautiful in its bloom and greenery. 

"Hasn't anybody bought your house yet, has there?" asked Patricia. 

"No, " Polly answered, "not that we've heard of. Father says the priceis too high. "

"Lucky for you, " remarked David. "And lucky for us, too, " he laughed. "I don't know but Uncle David would want to sell out if you folksshould leave. "

"Why don't you have some roses?" questioned Polly, coming back to theflowers. She gazed up at the stately columns, free of livingadornment, and decided the matter quickly. 

"They'd make it lovely!" she beamed. "Silver Moons would be splendidall over these pillars, and Lady Gays on the side piazza. Mrs. Jocelynhas an elegant Silver Moon, roses as big as that, "--curving herfingers into as wide a circle as they could compass, --"just singlewhite, with great yellow anthers--oh, they're beautiful! I wish youruncle would get some. Why don't you ask him, David?"

"You may, " he evaded. 

"I believe you don't dare, " Polly cried. "David Collins, are youafraid of him yet? Why, I don't see how you can be, he is so nice. "

The lad laughed. "I suppose I can't quite get over those years I stoodin such awe of him, " he confessed. "But, " he added, "he's fine; nobodycould be finer. "

"Polly was telling me the other day, " put in Patricia, "about the timeshe and Colonel Gresham chased after Dr. Dudley for you. I wish Icould have seen Lone Star go. "

"There! I haven't had a glimpse of Lone Star for a week!" Polly brokeout. "Is he in the stable, David? Let's go and see him!"

Away they raced, to visit the famous trotter, and to feed him withbread and butter and sugar which David begged from the cook. They werestill petting the affectionate animal when Colonel Gresham walked in. 

"Ah, I've caught you!" he growled. "Now I know what makes my horsehave indigestion!"

Patricia, looking a bit scared, stopped short in her feeding; but LoneStar nosed down to the piece of bread in her hand. 

David and Polly chuckled, understanding the Colonel better, andPatricia, seeing his laughing eyes, at once recovered herself. 

"Who wants to go to ride with Lone Star and me?" Colonel Greshamasked. 

There was a duet of "I's" from the girls. David said nothing. 

"Sorry my buggy will permit of only one invitation. We shall have todraw cuts, shan't we?"

Three lengths of straw were made, the Colonel arranging them as if hewere used to the business. The children eyed them with livelyinterest. 

"You choose first, Patricia, " Polly said, and they watchedbreathlessly while her fingers wavered in front of the big, steadyhand before daring to pull. 

Finally she plucked at one. It was the longest of all. 

"Oh, dear!" she lamented. 

"Now, Polly!" bade David. 

"That will leave you Hobson's choice, " she laughed; but he motionedher on, and she caught at the nearest one. 

It was an inch shorter than the remaining straw, and she smiled up atthe Colonel. 

"Miss Dudley, may Lone Star and I have the pleasure of yourcomradeship for the next hour?" he invited, bowing low. 

"I shall be very happy to go, " she laughed, sweeping him a littlecurtsy. 

Presently the carriage was ready, Polly and the Colonel jumped in, andPatricia and David sent merry good-byes in the wake of Lone Star'sflying feet. 

"I can't help being glad I won, " confessed Polly, drawing a longbreath of delight at the drive in store for her. 

Colonel Gresham smiled responsively, tucked the linen duster a littlecloser, asked her if she were quite comfortable, and then began alittle story in the life of his favorite horse. 

As they passed through the pleasant streets, between front dooryardsbanked with flowers, the talk after a while led quite naturally toclimbing roses for the Colonel's own house. 

"If only you could see Mrs. Jocelyn's roses!" Polly wished. "Therecouldn't be any lovelier ones. "

She told him of the great single Silver Moons, and pictured them onhis own piazza, until he said he must surely have some. 

"Oh!" cried Polly, the thought suddenly popping into her head, "whycan't we go round to Mrs. Jocelyn's and see hers? It won't be verymuch out of our way, and then you can tell just how they'll look. Youknow Mrs. Jocelyn, don't you?"

Colonel Gresham nodded gravely. 

"Then you won't mind going to see her roses, shall you?" Pollychattered on. "She has a big rose garden at the side of the house, lots of beautiful ones; but I 'most know you'll like the Silver Moonkind best. "

"I don't believe I like any kind of roses, " the Colonel broke outabruptly. "They have too many thorns. Somebody would always be gettingscratched if they were on my piazza. I reckon I won't have them, afterall. "

Polly started to speak, looked up, and then shut her lips on thewords. The stern set of her companion's face forbade talk. Yet in amoment it softened, the words came again, and this time they were notforced back. 

"Roses are so beautiful, and the thorns are so little I forget aboutthem. " She halted, but the Colonel did not respond. 

"Once when I was a very small girl, " she went on, "I picked a rose inour yard, and scratched my hand so it bled. I ran, crying, to mamma;but she didn't pay any attention to that, only told me to look at therose. It was a lovely tea rose, the color of sunset when the sky isall yellow with just a bit of a pink flush. She talked about it, tillI forgot my finger. When I happened to recollect, the hurt seemed solittle compared with that beautiful rose. I guess that's why I don'tmind thorns any more. I've always remembered it. "

"A good thing to remember, " spoke out Colonel Gresham fervently, "anda blessed thing to live up to--if only we could! But some thornspierce deep!"

He did not look at Polly. One might have thought him talking to LoneStar, for his eyes were on the horse's head. 

"Yes, some are bigger than others, " Polly replied innocently. "Theyhurt more. But Silver Moon doesn't have very many. Oh, " she criedearnestly, thinking of the rose, "I do wish you could see those ofMrs. Jocelyn's! Isn't it funny, " she went on musingly, "how she alwayscalls you David, just as if you were one of her very best friends!Only very best friends call each other by their first names, do they?I mean grown-up people. I guess she thinks a lot of you. Sometimes hereyes--you know what dark, shiny eyes she has--well, sometimes whenshe's talking about you they get so bright and soft, they're justbeautiful! I think she is a lovely lady, don't you?"

"I presume she is, from what I hear, " replied the Colonel. "I haven'tseen her in a long time. But how comes it that she speaks of me? Ican't see any occasion for it. "

"Oh, I don't know! She talks of you very often. She thinks a lot ofDavid. You know he goes up there with me a good deal. "

"David Collins!--goes up to see Mrs. Jocelyn?" Colonel Gresham wasplainly surprised. 

"Why, not Mrs. Jocelyn exactly, but Leonora. Didn't he ever sayanything about it? We go up 'most every week. "

"Ah, yes, Leonora! I had forgotten. She is the adopted child?"

Polly recounted the story of Leonora's adoption, to which the Colonellistened attentively; but he made few comments, and when it ended hewas silent. 

Polly did not know what to think of Colonel Gresham to-day; in factshe began to feel as if she were not quite acquainted with him. Shewas strangely reminded of that other day, not a year ago, when shechose her happy reward, "to the half of his kingdom. " If he were likethis at home, she wondered no more that David sometimes refrained fromasking him questions. She was still thinking about it, when, suddenly, his customary genial manner returned, and they reached home in suchhigh spirits that David would have been surprised to have learned thatany part of the drive had been passed in silence. 

CHAPTER XVII

A SUMMER NIGHT MYSTERY

David Collins was on the piazza with a book when he heard the call. Hesprang up and ran to the end towards Lady Gay Cottage. 

"Hullo, Pollee! What is it?"

"Can you come over? I'm all alone. Mother's gone to ride with theScribners, and father's up in Forestford at a consultation. "

"I'll come right now. Say, this is a dandy book! Shall I bring italong?"

By the time the story was finished, David reading it aloud, it was toodusky for another, and the children sat and talked, one in thehammock, the other in the lounging-chair. 

Presently Colonel Gresham drove out. David watched him, while Pollyindulged in her usual admiration of Lone Star. The carriage was out ofsight before the boy turned his eyes from the road where it hadvanished. 

"I do wonder where he is going, " he sighed. 

"Probably to give the poor horse some fresh air and exercise, "responded Polly. "I see him go out nearly every night about thistime. "

"Yes, I know, " returned David grimly, "but it isn't just for LoneStar's health. "

"Maybe it's business then. Did you wish you were with him?"

"Oh, no, not that at all!" David hastened to say. "Perhaps I oughtn'tto speak of it--I shouldn't only to you. But I know you won't tell. "

"Tell what?" laughed Polly. "I don't know anything to tell, and Iwouldn't tell it if I did!"

"I don't know either--wish I could find out; then we'd know what toexpect. "

"What do you mean, David Collins? Why do you care where your unclegoes?"

"Because it may make a great deal of difference to mamma and me. We'redreadfully worried. "

Polly's face took on an anxious shadow. 

"You're not afraid he's--getting to gambling--or drinking, are you?"Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. 

David stared as if he doubted his hearing; then he threw back hishead, and laughed. 

"Uncle David--gambling! drinking! Oh, Pollee! that's too funny! oh, my!"

Polly laughed, too, out of sympathy. 

"Well, you said, --" she began in excuse. 

"I didn't say anything of that kind--oh, Polly! No, we aren't worriedabout Uncle David's habits. "

"Well, what is it, then? I'm not going to guess any more. "

"I wouldn't, " giggled David. 

"Anyway I've made you laugh, " exulted Polly. "You have been as graveas an owl all the evening. "

"Let me tell you--then you won't wonder I'm grave. "

"I'll let you all right, " Polly chuckled. 

David was too seriously troubled to notice. 

"It is this way, " he went on; "you know how Uncle David has alwaystaken us to ride after supper, either mamma or me alone, or both inthe surrey--he has ever since it was mild enough. "

"Why, yes, I've gone with you lots of times. "

"And now he takes somebody else--a lady, nearly every night!"

"It is too bad, " Polly returned plaintively. "We'd love to have you gowith us, if we could only go ourselves; but father can't get away, and--"

"Oh, I don't mean that!" David burst out. "It isn't because we're soanxious for a drive; but, Polly, don't you see? If Uncle David istaking a lady out every night, it means something!"

"What does it mean?" queried Polly in a puzzled voice. 

"Why, that he is going to be married!"

"O-h!"

"And that means that mamma and I must get out!"

"No, it doesn't!"

"Mamma says so. " David's head came down with decision. "Mamma wouldn'tstay to be in the way, and, oh, dear! Now you see why we are soworried. "

"But how do you know he takes a lady to ride?"

"Because I've seen her. "

"Who is it?"

"I can't tell--that's the trouble. We have known he went out alone, but we didn't think much about it till a week or so ago. I'd been upto Archie Howard's, and was coming home through Oregon Avenue, --youknow how shady it is up there, --and just along by the Woodruffs' UncleDavid whirled past me. I guess I was looking so hard to make sure itwas he that I didn't notice the lady much, but it wasn't a man. "

"Was that all? That doesn't mean anything! Maybe he just happened topick her up on her way home. He knows 'most everybody. "

"No, he didn't! If he did, he picked her up again two nightsafterward, for I was down on Curtis Street, and just before I got tothe avenue there they were! They were going like lightning, and Icouldn't make out any more than I could before. The lady was on theother side of Uncle David; but I'm sure it was the same one. "

"But couldn't he take a lady to ride without marrying her?" askedPolly slowly. 

"Why, I suppose some men do, " answered David; "but mamma says when aman of his age--who hasn't been round with the ladies for years andyears--takes one out evening after evening, it isn't for nothing. Andmamma says, of course, when he brings a wife home we can't stay. Oh, Idon't know what we shall do! I thought we should live here with UncleDavid always. It is making mamma just sick. I know she keeps thinkingof those dreadful years before he made up, and if we've got to go backto them again!"

"I wouldn't worry, " soothed Polly. "Maybe it isn't anything at all. Idon't b'lieve he'll get married. If he'd been going to, he'd have doneit before he got so old. "

"He isn't very old. He's only a little over fifty. "

"That's old to get married, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know!" replied David absently. 

"Well, I shall be married before I'm fifty, " announced Pollydecidedly. 

David laughed. 

"Who you going to marry?" he chuckled. 

"Why, of course I don't know yet, " she responded; "but I shan't waittill I'm fifty years old. "

"No, I guess you won't, " he agreed. 

The sound of light hoofs speeding down the street turned the attentionfrom the weighty subject of marriage back to the Colonel himself. 

"That isn't he, it's a little man, " observed Polly. 

"I knew it wasn't Lone Star's step, " David replied. "Besides, hedoesn't come home so early as this. "

"Oh, say, " Polly broke out in an undertone of excitement, "let's go upon Oregon Avenue! Maybe we should meet them!"

"I don't suppose they always go that way, " mused David; "but itwouldn't do any harm to take a walk--"

"No, come on!" urged Polly, jumping up. "But I must lock the housefirst. Mother has a key. "

"I'll help, " volunteered David, following Polly into the front hall. 

With windows and doors secure behind them, the two started for OregonAvenue, Polly talking all the way. 

"It was along here that you saw them, wasn't it?" she questionedsoftly, as if fearful that her voice might carry to the piazza partiesthat lined the pleasant street. 

"Just about, " David answered; "but it's lighter further on. There's acarriage block in front of that big gray house where you can sit downand rest. "

"I'm not a bit tired, " Polly insisted, yet to please David she satdutifully on the stone indicated for at least three minutes; then shesuddenly decided that it was too conspicuous, and they moved on up theavenue. 

The night was warm and still. Occasionally a puff of cooler air wouldmeet the children at some dusky driveway or odorous garden, and theywould halt to enjoy it. From dark verandas and brilliant houseslaughter and song floated out to them as they passed along. Altogetherthis stalking Colonel Gresham was rather a delightful affair, andsometimes in the pleasure of the moment their errand would be almostforgotten. 

Not many carriages were abroad, and this was not one of the highwaysfrequented by motor-cars. Every vehicle, therefore, claimed thechildren's attention. Far up the avenue, on a corner where an arclight cast fitful shadows over the intersecting roadways, they stoppedto catch a breeze straying up from the harbor. Polly was blithelychattering. 

"'Sh!" whispered David. 

The sound of hoofs came faintly through the stillness. 

"I believe it is!" Polly whispered back. 

David nodded eagerly. 

"Dear me, how that light bobs up and down!" Polly complained. "I hopeit will be bright when they get here. "

"Let's stand in the shadow!" David pulled her under a broad mapletree. 

On came the hoofs, nearer, nearer. The light suddenly flared. 

"Oh, goody!" exulted Polly. 

"It is Lone Star!" whispered David. 

The familiar horse appeared in the flickering circle of light. Behindhim the form of a man and a woman were barely discernible--then utterdarkness! Lone Star trotted by the discomfited two, and was gone. Thelight did not come back. The children clutched each other in silentdisappointment. Polly was the first to find words. 

"Wasn't that just mean?"

David laughed--a grim little laugh. 

"Don't! It hurts. I'm too mad to laugh. "

He chuckled. Then he grabbed Polly excitedly. 

"Come on!" he cried. 

"Where?" breathlessly hurrying along by his side. 

"The avenue makes a big curve above here, before it gets to the fork, and we can go straight up this next street and head 'em off, maybe--they're going pretty slow. "

"I don't b'lieve we can. "

"We'll try it anyhow. You're not tired?"

"Oh, no!"

Racing over long stretches, slowing to catch breath, then runningagain, --thus the fork was finally reached. But no Lone Star or thethud of his feet greeted eyes or ears. 

"I might have known we couldn't go as fast as Lone Star!" Davidexclaimed disgustedly. 

"You don't s'pose they've gone up to Cherry Hill Park, do you?"questioned Polly. "It's just above here, you know. "

"Perhaps. Want to try it?"

Of course she did, and on they trudged, taking note of neither timenor distance, until all at once Polly was conscious of weariness. 

"It seems further afoot than in an automobile, doesn't it?" shelaughed. 

"Yes, " nodded David; "but we're almost there. Wonder which road they'dbe likely to take. "

Polly could not even guess, so they followed the driveways at random, on, and on, and on. 

There was no lack of company. Young men and women, walking cozilyclose; wandering lovers from over the sea, like children hand in hand;groups of laughing, chattering girls and boys;--all these, but never aLone Star or a dignified Colonel with his possible sweetheart. 

"Let's sit down and rest, " proposed David. "You must be tired. "

They dropped on a convenient bench, and Polly let go a sleepy littleyawn. 

"I don't believe there's any use in waiting round here, " began David. 

Polly did not reply. Her head was drooping. 

The lad drew her gently to his shoulder. 

"I guess--I was 'most--asleep, " she said drowsily, and shut her eyesagain. 

The passers-by glanced curiously at the two on the bench. Soon therewere few to look, then none at all. 

David leaned his head against the slatted back. It was not an easypillow, but it gave the needed relief, and he slept. 

"David Collins, I b'lieve you're fast asleep!"

It roused the boy with a start. He gave a little shamefaced laugh. 

"I don't see what made me do it, " he apologized. 

"Well, we'd better go home as quick as we can get there, " decidedPolly. "What time do you s'pose it is?"

Neither could tell, but presently a town clock struck ten. 

"That isn't so bad as I thought, " giggled Polly. "But what will thefolks say!"

They hurried along the path, till, suddenly, David halted. 

"Did we pass this big fountain?" he questioned abruptly. 

"I--don't remember it, " Polly faltered. 

"We're on the wrong path, " he hastily concluded. "Let's go back!"

They wheeled about, and were soon following a driveway that they weresure led to the park entrance. Yet they trudged on and on, and stillthe green expanse, dotted with trees, flower-beds, and shrubberyseemed to stretch endlessly before them. 

"Seems 's if we ought to get somewhere pretty soon, " observed Polly, aplaintive note in her voice. 

David replied absently. He was thinking hard. Where was that big stonegateway? He strained his eyes in a vain endeavor to discern it in thedistance. 

"What if we couldn't find our way out, and they had to come and lookfor us!" pondered Polly. "Only they wouldn't know where to look!"

"Oh, we're not lost!" exclaimed David, in what he tried to make afearless tone; but Polly, as well as he himself, knew it to be a fib, spoken only to hold their fast-going courage. 

"Let's stop a minute, and see if we can't tell where we are, " proposedPolly, just as if that were not what they had been doing, at briefintervals, ever since they had passed the unfamiliar fountain. 

They had come to no satisfactory conclusion, and were still peeringsharply into their surroundings, when Polly spied a figure in the pathahead. 

"There's a boy!" she whispered. "We can ask him. "

As the lad approached, something in his easy swing seemed familiar. 

"It looks like--" began Polly--"why, it is! Oh, Cornelius!" she criedexcitedly, as the light showed the unmistakable features of her friendof the convalescent ward. She sprang forward to greet him. 

"Holy saints!" ejaculated Cornelius O'Shaughnessy. "However come youkids out here, this time o' night?"

They told their story in breathless snatches, omitting only what hadbrought them hither. 

"Come f'r a walk, did ye!" sniffed Cornelius. "Wal, ye've had it sure!Now, see here! I've got to go over on North Second Street to git areceipt f'r some cake Cousin Ellen give my mother, or I'll ketch itwhen the show's out--that's where my mother is now! She says, the lastthing, 'Cornelius, mind yer don't forgit to go up after that receipt, f'r I want to make th' cake in th' mornin'!' I says, 'Sure Iwon't!'--and I never thought of it again till just as I was goin' upto bed! It happened to pop into my head, and if I didn't hustle downthose stairs! An' here I be! Now ye just sit down and wait, and I'llgo 'long back wid ye. "

The boy darted into the shadows and was lost. Polly and David feltmore alone than before. 

"Queer, we should meet him 'way out here, at this time!" David hadlowered his voice, as if fearful of being overheard. 

"He came just to find us, " purred Polly. "What a nice boy he is!"

"Don't talk so loud!" cautioned David. 

"He can't hear. He's too far away. "

"Somebody might. "

"There isn't anybody, " she laughed, yet involuntarily she was obeyingDavid's injunction. 

They sat there on the bench what seemed a very long time, stillCornelius did not appear. 

"Let's walk along a little way and meet him, " proposed Polly. 

The deserted park seemed vastly more lonely than an empty street. Polly kept up a soft chatter. David wished silently that Corneliuswould come. The shrubbery that bordered the way made weird shadowsalong the path, and more than once David had to grip his courage in ahurry to keep from halting in the face of some grotesque shade. Queerlittle prickles crept up and down his legs. Why didn't Cornelius come!

"You're not afraid?" he whispered, as Polly clutched his arm moretightly in passing a clump of dogwoods. 

"Oh, no!" she chirped contentedly, the harmless shadows behind them, "not with you!"

The boy's retreating courage came back. He felt himself grown suddenlytaller and stronger. He walked forward with a firm, steady step. 

"We mustn't go too far, or Cornelius might miss us, " warned Polly. "There he is now!" as the straight little figure swung into sight. 

The three had a merry walk home, notwithstanding the distance and thehaunting fear in the hearts of two of them that there would be anxietybecause of their unexplained absence. Cornelius insisted onaccompanying them to within a block of home, and then he stood on thecorner and watched them away. 

Mrs. Dudley met them at the foot of the steps, both handsoutstretched. 

"Children! where have you been?"

Polly felt nearer than usual to a real reprimand, and she hurried toexplain. 

"We didn't mean to be gone so long, but we got lost in Cherry HillPark--"

"Cherry Hill Park! What in the world started you up there this hotnight?"

"Why, we went up on Oregon Avenue, and then thought we'd just go overto the park, and we got tired, --or I did, --and we sat down on a benchand went to sleep--both of us!" Polly giggled at the remembrance. "Then we couldn't tell which way to go, and Cornelius came along, andhe had to do an errand for his mother, and we waited a good while forhim--and that's why we didn't come before. "

"Well, you have had a time! You'd better run right home, David, foryour mother is worried. She supposed you were over here, and came tosee what kept you. "

"Is Uncle David home?" questioned the boy tentatively. 

"I think she said not. "

Polly's eyes and David's met in tacit understanding--the secret wasColonel Gresham's, and not to be spoken of. Then the boy whirledtowards home. 

"Good-night!" called Polly, and to the accompaniment of fleetingfootfalls came the answering "Good-night!"

CHAPTER XVII

AT MIDVALE SPRINGS

Polly's worry about her father's reduced salary and the unpaid coalbill did not wholly leave her mind, but returned at intervals withever renewing force. At these times she still wondered if she ought tohave gone to live with Uncle Maurice; yet the thought of it broughtsuch terror to her heart that she would resolutely turn from thepicture, arguing that the time was past for accepting his offer, andthat now, whatever the consequences, she must remain in the home shehad chosen. She longed intensely to earn some money to help out thesituation, thinking how delightful it would be to put ten dollars intoher father's hand with the astonishing announcement that it was hervery own to do with as she pleased. But, realizing her helplessness inthis line, she would resolve again and again to eat as little aspossible, and as far as she was able to insist on wearing her oldclothes, and to protest against spending even precious pennies for thepretty things she so loved to wear. But it was the eating questionthat troubled her more than the dress, for her healthy appetite oftentempted her into indulgences which she would afterwards regret. 

One noon she so far forgot herself as to ask for a second helping ofstrawberry shortcake. 

"Why, " exclaimed her father playfully, "if you keep on at this rate, Ishall have to charge you more for board!"

Polly looked up, dropped her fork, and covering her face with herhands broke into tears. 

"Thistledown!" cried the Doctor. 

"You foolish child!" laughed Mrs. Dudley. "You know father was only infun!"

But Polly sobbed on, nor could she be induced to eat the piece ofshortcake she had wanted. 

Dr. Dudley and his wife were puzzled, but Polly did not make mattersclearer, only refused to finish her dinner, insisting that she had hadenough. Her mother coaxed, the Doctor all but commanded, yet shesilently kept her trouble in her heart, and went miserably to school. 

There Patricia met her with the announcement that she and her motherwere going to Midvale Springs to spend the summer, having arranged toleave as soon as school should close. 

"And we want you to go with us, " Patricia went on with eager emphasis, passing her arm cozily around Polly's waist. "You and I can have aroom together next to mamma's and it will be too lovely! I lay awakelast night thinking of it. "

"But I can't--" began Polly. 

"You can, too!" contradicted Patricia. "You've got to! I won't let youdo anything else! Now say yes right away--there's a dear!" she coaxed, pinching Polly's mouth with a thumb and forefinger, her favoritemethod of wheedling. 

"Cousin Harold's coming for a visit pretty soon, " evaded Polly. "Idon't know what he would do if I shouldn't be here when he came. "

"Huh!" scorned Patricia, "guess I shouldn't stay home for a boy! Hecan come some other time. I'm your cousin, and I want you, and I'mgoing to have you! You never do anything I ask you to, and I think youmight just for this once!" she pouted. 

"Why, Patty, I do everything I can to please you!" protested Polly. 

The "Patty" won smiles. It was Patricia's favorite nickname, and shewas always pleased when Polly used it. 

"You're a darling!" she cooed. "You do everything lovely! And you'lldo this for me--I know you will!" she ended archly. 

Yet Polly was equally certain in her inmost heart that she shouldnever go to Midvale. To be sure, she reasoned prudently, it would saveher board at home, and that was to be desired, but, on the other hand, there must needs be new clothes for a summer's stay at the fashionableSprings, which would more than offset the gain. She would givePatricia no encouragement. 

Mrs. Dudley looked with favor on the invitation, although saying sheshould allow Polly to do as she chose. The Doctor, too, welcomed theplan as a good one, thinking it would be just the change needed forthe little girl, who was growing thin and pale. Still Polly held outagainst them all, and felt actually homesick to hear so much talkabout it. If it had been going with Mrs. Collins and David, why, shewould have considered the question. She loved David's sweet, girlishlittle mother; but of Mrs. Illingworth she had never been fond, andshe wondered that her father and mother should wish her to go. 

"I'd rather stay here and live on crackers--'thout any butter, " shesaid miserably to herself, and she began to curtail her meals as muchas discreetness and her appetite would allow. 

It was only a week to the end of school, and Patricia had been urgingher claims, to which Polly had paid small attention, having heard thesame talk, with variations, for the last fortnight. But all at oncethe half-listener grew interested. What was Patricia saying?

"If you'll only go for just one month I'll give you fifty dollars!"

"Your mother wouldn't let you, " argued Polly. 

"She would, too!" Patricia declared. "Guess I can do what I want towith my own money! Oh, say, will you go? Will you?"

"Maybe, " yielded Polly. "I don't know. I've got to think it over. I dowant some money, and I was wishing I could earn some--"

"Oh, then you will! you will! you will!" cried Patricia gleefully. "This is just your chance! Why didn't you tell me before? Oh, I'm soglad I want to stand on my head!"

"I haven't said yet that I'd go, " laughed Polly; "only maybe I would. "

"But you will! I know the signs!"--and Polly was grabbed in anuncomfortable hug. 

Dr. Dudley and his wife were pleased at the turn affairs had taken, although they wondered at Polly's sudden change of mind. Of the offerthat was the sole cause of it Polly said nothing. What a joyfulsurprise it would be when she should come home a month hence withsufficient money to pay the haunting coal bill! The anticipatedpleasure of that moment kept her resolution steady. 

Yet at times Polly was so sober in the midst of the preparations forher going that her mother would turn to her with searching eyes, andwonder how she had lost her usual blitheness. 

"You are not doing this just to please Patricia?" she asked onetwilight, stopping in her task of packing Polly's small trunk to catchher in her arms and hold her solemn little face towards the window. 

"Oh, no!" was the tremulous assertion; "I'm not going for Patricia'ssake at all--that is, of course, I'm glad to please her; but I want togo! Only I guess"--her eyes filled--"I'm a little lovesick for you andfather!"

Mrs. Dudley smiled. 

"I know!" she nodded. "I've been homesick beforehand. "

"Have you?" Polly brightened. "And did it go off?"

"Oh, yes, after a while!"

"Then I guess I shall get over it soon as I'm really there, " she saidbravely. "I wouldn't give it up for anything!"

Yet the end of the pleasant all-day's journey found Polly lookingforward to her promised month with a vague uneasiness. She halfwished she had confided in her mother and had let her decide. Whilelistening to Patricia's happy chatter, she wondered whether she haddone right in coming, arguing the question back and forth; still sosecretly did she carry on her own line of thought that merry Patricianever guessed she was not holding Polly's entire attention. 

In the morning things looked different. The charming little village ofMidvale Springs, dropped so cozily among the Vermont hills, wonPolly's heart at first daylight glance. If father and mother werethere, too! But even with the knowledge that they were hundreds ofmiles away the early days of her visit were spent very happily. Therewas so much to see, new faces at every turn, merry playmates at allhours, straw rides and barn frolics, beautiful drives alongsidetumbling brooks and through deep mountain gorges, --Polly's lettershome told of these unfamiliar scenes and pleasures. Mrs. Dudley saidto herself that the homesickness must have passed with the journey. 

Polly had been at the Springs but a week when she was one of a partyto spend the day at Lazy Lake, twenty miles distant. On her return, in the early twilight, a small figure popped out of the dusk to giveher a frantic embrace. 

"Harold!" she exclaimed, recovering wits and breath together. "Wheredid you come from?"

"Fair Harbor, " promptly answered the unabashed boy. "Couldn't findanybody home at your house, and that feller next door--what's hisname?--"

"David Collins?"

"Yes, David--he said you were up here, so I came right along. "

At first it was a problem to know how to dispose of the rash littlelad; but by dint of certain shifts a room in the hotel was finallyprovided for him, and he fitted very happily into the gay life there. 

The next week another surprise came to Polly, and it was even greaterthan the advent of Harold. 

An automobile had gone to the nearest station, ten miles away, to meetthe evening train and fetch back some new boarders--so much thechildren knew; but as this was not an unusual occurrence they onlywondered mildly if there would be any boys or girls among the comingguests. They had finished their last game of tennis, and were loungingon the piazza steps, when the hotel car was sighted up the dusty road. 

"We'd better scoot, " advised Carl Webster, "or some of the new folksmay agree with old Mrs. Chatterton, that they 'never did see such araft o' young ones!'"

The imitation of the fidgety little woman's voice and manner was socomplete that the others broke into laughter; but nobody moved. 

The car was slowing up, and Polly, turning carelessly to look, gave alittle cry of astonishment. Then, to the surprise of the rest, shedarted down the steps. 

"Ilga!--Miss Price!"--her words stopped short, for Ilga was on herfeet--was stepping forward! Her face matched her joyful greeting. 

In a minute Patricia was there, asking excited questions and beggingthe invalid to be careful. 

"As if I were not crawling!" laughed Ilga. "Oh, it does seem sosplendid to walk! I've got lots of messages for you, Polly. Yourfather came to the station to see me off--just think of that! Wasn'tit lovely of him? And your mother made me a long call yesterday! Iwouldn't let anybody tell you a thing about my coming--I wanted tosurprise you! You were surprised, weren't you?" she queried anxiously. 

"I'm so surprised I can't think, " laughed Polly. "Did you know it whenI came away--that you were coming, too?"

"We'd just spoken of it, hadn't we, Miss Price? It wasn't a bit surethen. I was wild to come--just wild!" Ilga dropped into the easy chairplaced for her, and drew a long, happy breath. 

"Aren't you awfully tired?" questioned Patricia. 

"Oh, I guess not!--I don't know. I only know I'm here and it'sbeautiful! Father and mother are coming next week; won't that begrand?"

So the pleasant talk went on, until Miss Price carried her patientaway to supper and rest. 

Merry days followed. Polly, remembering the old Ilga and her fewschool friends, looked delightedly upon the popularity which thissubdued, humbled girl was winning. Once such attention might haveincited her to overbearing conduct; now it seemed only to make herfairly beam with good-fellowship and happiness. "And she actuallyloves father!" Polly would smilingly tell herself, secretly rejoicingin the fact; but she rarely spoke of the change even to Patricia. Itwas enough that the miracle had been wrought. It did not need to bepassed about in words. 

Although somewhat against his father's wishes, Harold remained for theweek which he had started to spend in Fair Harbor; but all hispleading could not make the grudging consent cover a longer time. 

With tears in his eyes he bade Polly good-bye. 

"If you were only going, too!" he whispered. "Come on, Polly--do!"

"Why, you know I can't!" she returned, half laughingly, half sadly. 

He muttered an exulting reply that she could not quite catch, and thenthe train came, and he was hustled away, leaving Polly to wonder whathe had said. 

"It was something about what he was going to do when he was grown up, "she mused. "I don't see why he should talk of that now--and here!"

On her return to the hotel, she ran over to the croquet ground thatskirted the opposite side of the road. A game was in progress, and forthe time Harold faded into the past. Patricia being called to thehouse, Polly took her place, and she was driving a ball to the laststake when somebody cried out:--

"There's your cousin! What's he coming back for?"

Polly glanced up, to see Harold grinning and waving to her jubilantly. 

He jumped from the car as it slowed, and came to meet her. 

"How did you get here? I s'posed you were on the way to New York!"

"Had an accident, " he answered cheerfully, --"just below the station, and the track was so blocked up they said we couldn't get along inhours. I wasn't going to stay fooling round there, you bet! I said, wasn't there an auto somewhere that could bring us back to the hotel, and a man asked me what hotel 'twas and all about it up here, and heand another man said they'd get an auto if there was one to be had. Sothey did--and here I am!"

He wagged his head gleefully. 

"I never saw such a boy for pouncing in on people!" laughed Ilga. "ButI'm awfully glad you've come. Was there anybody hurt?"

"Yes, some of 'em. No one killed, they said. 'Twas a mighty bigsmash-up, though! My! you'd 'a' thought the whole world was going topieces when we came together! And we hadn't been started much more'ntwo minutes! Our car tilted over, and I climbed out through thewindow! I didn't even get a scratch. "

"Don't let's talk about it, " begged Polly. "I'm so glad you aren'thurt. "

"Yes, " agreed Harold; "but I'd 'a' come back here all the same if Ihad been, and then pop would 'a' had to let me stay. "

The children laughed, all but Polly. She said, with a little pucker ofthe brows:--

"What a boy!"

Later, as they went up to the hotel, she glanced towards the broadpiazza, now dotted with men and women, and her eyes widened inamazement. 

"Why, there's Mr. Morrow!"

"Who's he?" queried Harold indifferently. 

"Chris Morrow's father--don't you know? The one that gave me the pansypin. "

"Oh! Where is he?"

"Over there by the post, right next to the girl in light pink. "

"That's the man I came up with! But his name isn't Morrow--it'sWinship. He said so. "

"Well, it looks just like him anyway, " insisted Polly. "Perhaps itisn't, " she added disappointedly. 

Before they reached the piazza steps, the stranger arose and wentinside. 

"It doesn't walk like Mr. Morrow, " admitted Polly. "But I wish he'dstayed, I wanted to see him nearer. "

For several days, however, no opportunity came for observing the manat close range. In the big dining-hall, even if he chanced to bethere at the same time, he sat the entire length of the room away fromher, and they did not meet elsewhere. Then, one morning, at a turn ofthe long piazza, they chanced to come face to face, and Polly, struckby his remarkable resemblance to the father of her friend, could notforbear to speak. 

"I beg your pardon, " she began, half afraid now that she had actuallystarted, "but aren't you Mr. Morrow, --the one I used to see at thehospital in Fair Harbor?"

A puzzled look swept the man's face. Then he smiled. 

"I think you are mistaken, little lady. My name is Winship, BradfordWinship of New York. "

"You look almost exactly like him, " returned Polly, even now refusingto be quite convinced, although there was not a trace of recognitionin the smiling face she was scanning. 

"I seem to have two or three doubles around the country, " he remarked. "I am continually being taken for somebody or other. Sorry not to havehad the previous pleasure of your acquaintance, but I hope that wemay follow up the little we have made. "

He left her with a deferential bow, and she ran to tell Patricia andIlga of her blunder. How Harold would have laughed! But he had leftfor home as soon as it had been ascertained that the trains wererunning on time. 

The next day, returning to her apartment for a light wrap, after theevening meal, Mrs. Illingworth passed her dressing-table, and staredin amazement. The girls, in their room, heard her peremptory call. 

"Patty, have you been meddling with my jewel cases again?"

"No, mamma, I haven't touched them, " she answered comfortably. 

"Are you sure? Think! Come here quick!"

Patricia sprang to obey. Her mother's voice was tense and sharp. Morethan once she had made free to appropriate necklaces and bracelets forher own adornment in plays with the children, but this time she wasquite innocent of any misbehavior. 

"Why!--why!" she gasped, gazing, big-eyed, at the beautiful emptycases, "where are all your jewels? I haven't taken a single thing!Have I, Polly? We were playing tennis early, and then we went to ride, you know. Why, what could--"

But Mrs. Illingworth waited for no more; dashing from the room, shehurried to the office to report her loss. 

She was only one of many. While supper was in progress the rooms ofthe guests had been rifled of money and jewelry to the amount ofthousands of dollars. The thief had entered the apartments by means ofa skeleton key, for most of the doors had been locked. 

"Oh, I wonder if he took my lovely coral bracelet!" cried Patricia, who had followed her mother downstairs. 

The girls scampered back, to find their fears true. Patricia's prettybits of jewelry, as well as Polly's pansy pin, were gone. They weredistressed over their loss, but their excitement was a small part ofthat throughout the hotel. 

The authorities were not long in placing the charge. The men who hadaccompanied Harold from the railway wreck had vanished, and althoughthey were traced to a neighboring town, there they seemed to beutterly lost. 

Perhaps nobody grieved more than did Polly. 

"And the man was so pleasant to me!" she mourned. "To think he shouldgo and steal my pretty pin--Chris's present!"

The occurrence actually made her homesick, and she longed for the daywhen her month should be up. It had been arranged for her to travel incompany with an elderly gentleman who must pass through Fair Harbor onhis way home, and she would have hoped that his business would hastenhis going, only that she had promised the entire month in return forthe fifty dollars. 

The day was finally set, but nothing was said about the price of hervisit, and Polly grew anxious and perturbed. What if Patricia hadforgotten! What if she should not get the money after all! To be sure, the month had been for the most part pleasant, still the loss of herprecious pin was enough to make her hate the name of Midvale Springs. Now if she had gained not even the amount of the coal bill by coming!By the last night Polly was in a fever; she could not sleep, while herirresponsible bedfellow lay beside her like a little log. 

Shortly before breakfast, Polly, dressed for her journey, appeared inMrs. Illingworth's room, and with a pleasant good-morning was on herway to the hall, when the lady stopped her. 

"Wait a moment, dear!"

Polly turned, to see Patricia's mother opening her purse. Her heartleaped in sudden joy. She had been blaming Patricia for neglect, butnow she silently begged her pardon. 

"Run and get your hand-bag, " Mrs. Illingworth smiled, "I want to putsomething into it. "

Polly fetched it gladly. 

"There is fifty dollars, a little present from Patty and me, and Ihope you will have as much pleasure in spending it as we have ingiving. "

Polly thanked her, and then added:--

"I wouldn't take it, as I told Patricia before I came, only that Iwant the money for a very special purpose. "

Mrs. Illingworth's eyes narrowed, as was their habit in surprise, andshe started to speak; but Polly was going innocently on, and the ladyglanced keenly at her daughter, who was standing transfixed in thedoor of her room. 

"I was wishing I could earn some, " Polly was saying, "when Pattyoffered this if I would come for a month; so it happened just right. Ithank you ever so much, and for my lovely visit beside. "

It is doubtful if either the mother or daughter heard much of Polly'sgrateful little speech. Patricia's face burned with shame at herforgetfulness, and she wondered what her mother would say as soon asPolly was out of hearing. 

As for Polly she went blithely on her way, never dreaming that byfortunate chance Mrs. Illingworth's gift came to cover up a bit ofnegligence. 

Fair Harbor was not reached until evening. To Polly's surprise, herfather was not at the station. Her letter, she reasoned, could nothave been received. But the road was well-known and the hour was notlate, so she took the way to Lady Gay Cottage with a light heart. 

The house was dark. Neither father nor mother was on the piazza, asPolly had hoped they would be. She was eager to feel their arms aroundher. She pushed the bell-button again and again, but there was noanswer. It was dismally dark at Colonel Gresham's, too, and not themurmur of a voice came to her as she listened. 

"They are all out riding, probably, " she explained to herselfdiscouragedly. It was a lonesome home-coming indeed. She walked slowlyover to the hammock, and dropped into it. Anyway she was at home--thatwas a comfort. 

"And they'll come pretty soon, " she thought gladly. "They never stayout late. "

She was tired, after her long day on the hot, dusty train. She leanedwearily back among the soft cushions. Yes, home was the best place inthe whole world. 

Two hours later an automobile stopped at Lady Gay Cottage. Dr. Dudleyand his wife stepped out, there were good-nights, then the two went upto the house together. 

"Going in?" queried the Doctor. "Guess I'll stay out here awhile, itis too pleasant to go to bed. "

He unlocked the door, and then, left to himself, went over to the darkcorner where the hammock swung. There he suddenly stopped, with a softejaculation. 

The sleeper did not stir. 

Putting his hand gently under her neck, he thought to take her in hisarms. How surprised she would be when she awoke! But she spoiled hisplan by suddenly opening her eyes. 

With a glad cry she nestled her head on his shoulder. How dear it wasto be home again! Mother heard the voices, and came out, which meantmore kisses and happy greetings. 

Polly was talking fast and eagerly about the exciting events of hervisit, when she thought of the money in her purse. 

"Oh, I forgot!" she broke off, and dived into her little hand-bag. 

"There, " she said, her voice low and tense, "is the money to pay thecoal bill! Mrs. Illingworth--I mean Patricia--gave it to me for goingwith her. "

"But, Thistledown, " objected the Doctor whimsically, "that coal billwas paid long ago, --besides--"

"Oh, dear, " she broke in, "I wanted to pay it myself! I wanted to helpyou!" She hid her face against his coat. "I wouldn't have gone onlyfor that. Patty said she'd give me fifty dollars if I would. "

In a flash Dr. Dudley saw it all, --her sudden turn regarding thesummer trip, her brave fight with homesickness. Involuntarily his armstightened around her. Must he make her feel that her sacrifice hadbeen in vain?

"You say that Patricia gave you the money when you came away?"

"No, father, it was Mrs. Illingworth that gave it to me--this morning. She said it was a present from both of them. But Patty had promised itto me. "

"I understand. Well, there are other ways, Thistledown, where yourmoney can help, if you wish. You know we have not used our 'wedding'car for a good while, because I haven't been able to spare enough fora needed tire. Now, if you like, you shall buy the new tire, and thenwe will have some rides. How will that do?"

"Oh, splendid!" she cried. "I'm so glad! I did want to help! I wasafraid for a minute that you were not going to let me keep the money;but a present has to be kept, doesn't it? Only this wasn't exactly apresent, if she did call it so. I'm glad you didn't mean that. " Shedrew a long, satisfied breath. 

The Doctor smiled across at his wife over Polly's curls, and her eyestold him he had decided in the wisest way. 

They were still talking when Colonel Gresham and his family drove in. 

Polly called a cheery, "Hullo, David!" and then, of course, they allhad to come over and tell her how glad they were to see her. 

It was late before the mother could get her nestling snug for thenight; but Polly was at home again, and nobody cared. 

CHAPTER XIX

TWO LETTERS

A week after Polly's return, Lady Gay Cottage was sold. Polly broughtthe news from Colonel Gresham's, the Colonel having heard it downtown. 

"Now what shall we do?" she questioned, atop of the announcement. "Colonel Gresham says we can all come over there. "

Dr. Dudley laughed. So did his wife, but she grew grave almost atonce. 

"Very likely we can stay on just the same, " was the Doctor's cheerfulopinion. "Martin Clapp isn't going to give up his new home and movehis family in here; so don't worry about it. "

It was as Dr. Dudley prophesied, the tenants could remain, but withthis difference, --the rent was raised five dollars a month. The Doctormade light of it; still Polly knew by her mother's face that it wouldmean a harder pinch on other things. 

If only they hadn't bought that new tire! It was delightful to beriding again in the Colonel's beautiful present, yet the shadow thatoften she detected on her mother's face she attributed to this newtrouble, and it worried her. What made it worse, she worried insecret. The thought intruded while she was playing with Leonora andDavid, it haunted her dreams by night. She began to wonder again ifshe ought to have gone to live with Uncle Maurice. The question wasstill undecided when something occurred that seemed to make mattersclearer. 

She had been up to Mrs. Jocelyn's and was returning home late in theafternoon. As she came in view of the hospital she noticed a small boystanding by the gate. On nearer approach the lad's delicate profilegrew familiar, and suddenly she darted forward, crying joyfully:--

"Chris! Oh, Chris!"

He turned weakly, took a step to meet her, and then throwing out hishands dropped to the sidewalk. 

With a little scream, Polly was down beside him, moaning:--

"Oh, he's dead! he's dead!"

But in a moment, to her relief, his eyes opened, and he murmured, "Polly!"

A physician, driving up to the hospital entrance, took the boy in hisarms, and carried him inside. 

The office was empty, but presently Dr. Dudley returned to find apatient on his couch, and Polly acting as nurse. 

"Daddy's gone away, " the lad explained, "and he sent word to have mecome right up here and see you. I've got a letter"--fumbling for theinner pocket of his coat. Finally, with Polly's help, he brought fortha closely sealed envelope directed to Dr. Dudley. 

The physician laid it aside until his patient could be made morecomfortable, and at once administered a light restorative. 

Chris had not been well for a good while, he admitted, and had beenseparated from "daddy" much of the time since leaving Fair Harbor. Inthe brief little note that had come to him, his father had not saidwhere he was going, but as business would be likely to keep him awayfor some months he directed him to come to Dr. Dudley and deliver theletter in person. 

"Yes, we will have him up in the convalescent ward, " the physicianreplied, in response to Polly's question, and he stepped to thetelephone, to order a bed prepared for him at once. 

Polly saw a shadow of anxiety on the pale little face, and began toreassure him. 

"It is lovely up there, and you'll get well right away and have suchgood times. I'm over here every day, sometimes two or three times aday--I shall be now to see you. "

And so the lonely heart was comforted. 

The day was full of work for Dr. Dudley, and Mr. Morrow's letterstayed unopened in his pocket until his evening rounds had been made. In his first leisure moment, he cut the envelope and skimmed theclosely written pages. He read them twice before he laid them down. Then, leaning back in his chair, he pondered the strange situation. Finally he took up the letter and read it through again. It boreneither date nor address nor signature, and began abruptly. 

 DEAR DOCTOR, --

 Here I am!--up for two years, and God only knows what will become of my boy! He is, as you know, an abnormally sensitive child, who will grieve for "daddy" to the breaking of his heart, unless you open your heart and home and take him in. You were good to him once, and he loves you and your Polly. I am sure he would be happy with you. Will you do this kindness for me? No, not for me, --a man who has not the slightest claim upon you and who would not deserve it if he had, --but for the sake of his angel mother, for the sake of the poor little kid himself, perhaps you will not refuse. 

 Chris does not know where I am, and he must not be told, --_he must never know_. When my two years are up, we will go somewhere and begin life all over again. I have had enough of this infernal business, and am going to live straight as soon as I get another chance. In the six years I have been at it I have been lucky, many times slipping out of the very teeth of the law, until they called me "Slippery 'Chard. " I thought I was smart enough to elude anybody; but this last job was my undoing. My partner was too fond of talk and whiskey--he gave us away easy, and we're both out of it for these two years. I ought to have known better than to take him on. 

 It cut me up to have to lie to your little girl when she recognized me at Midvale--I guess I deserve all that's coming to me! I'm sorry about that pin Chris gave to Polly. The other fellow went through those rooms, and, of course, took the pansy with the rest. I knew it soon as I spied it, and was going to send it back to her; but they didn't give me time enough, and now it is gone. Perhaps you will think it is just as well, for it was swiped to start with. Buy her another, something pretty, and I'll foot the bill. You needn't be afraid of the money--it is as honest as yours. It was left the boy by his mother, and I have never touched it, so there's quite a neat little sum now. Charge me whatever you please for the kid's board. I'm willing to leave it to you, and I will see that you are paid promptly every month. If you'll only take care of him, and bring him up right, and not let him know that his father is a criminal, I will bless you to my last breath--as if my blessing could be worth anything to such a man as you! Well, the best it is you shall have it, and that is all I can do. If it hadn't been for Chris and his faith in me I should have gone to hell long ago--I've been down to the gates, as it was. It isn't the fault of my rearing, --my folks were all right, they trained me, they educated me, they loved me. I am the first to sully the name, but I've kept the name itself out of the mud as much as possible. Write to Peter Connell, New York, and I shall get the word. 

 Think what it would mean to you to be shut away from your little girl, never to look on her for two long years, with no decent friend to care for her--and then keep my little Chris! Oh, Doctor, keep him, and don't let him know about me!

 Good-bye. 

Richard Morrow was wise when in his extremity he turned to Dr. Dudley. The Doctor's heart was big and always ready to open its door toanybody in distress of body or mind. Of course, little Chrisstayed--at the hospital until he was strong again, then in thephysician's own home. 

The lad grieved for his father, Polly often finding him in someobscure corner reading over with tears his latest note from "daddy. "

"I can't make it seem right that he doesn't come to see me just once, "he complained to Polly. "I should think he might get away from hisbusiness for a little tiny while, --ten minutes or so, --even if he wentback on the next train. It isn't a bit like daddy, --not a single bit!"

And Polly, able to understand it no better than he, would strive tocomfort him. 

Sometimes Mrs. Dudley wondered if, after all, it would not have beenreally kinder to tell the little lad the truth. 

Nothing was said to Polly about the boy's board, and this gave her anadditional anxiety. He had now the appetite of a young convalescentwho was rapidly gaining strength, and Polly watched his plate atmealtime with dismay in her heart. She would zealously try to curb herown appetite, but found it a difficult task, and finally, indesperation, she made a weightier decision, and then ate what shepleased and as much, as seemed proper for the short time thatremained. For, at last, after days of argument with herself, when bothsides of the question were, as she honestly believed, fairly dealtwith, Polly concluded to write to Uncle Maurice. 

The time had been set for a Wednesday morning, but was postponed untilafternoon, and then three o'clock came before Polly went about it. Chris had proposed going over to the convalescent ward for a littlevisit; but Polly was in no visiting mood, so she had allowed him to goalone. 

Slowly she mounted the stairs to her own room. Even now she wastempted to put off writing until to-morrow. Perhaps so long afterwardsUncle Maurice would not be ready to welcome her. But in her heart sheknew this was false reasoning, and with a catch in her breath she satdown by her small writing desk, and pulled out paper and envelopes. 

It was some minutes before she started to write. 

 DEAR UNCLE MAURICE, --

 I thought when you were here and when I was in New York that I could never accept your invitation to come and live with you. But I have changed my mind--no, I have not exactly changed my mind, because I don't want to go as bad as ever--

"I'm afraid that isn't very polite, " Polly thought ruefully, drew adeep sigh, and took a fresh sheet. 

 DEAR UNCLE MAURICE, --

 When you were here, last spring, I thought I could not ever come to live with you, but now it seems best for me to accept your invitation. Perhaps you don't want me by this time, and if you don't, please say so, because it won't make any difference to me--I mean I shall be glad not--

Polly stopped suddenly. That would never do. She put the sheet aside, and began anew. 

 DEAR UNCLE MAURICE, --

 I wonder if you still want me to come and live with you. Because if you do, I will--

At the fatal word, Polly's lip quivered, her pen turned, and a bigsplash of ink fell right in the middle of the fair page. She didn'tcare. There were other splashes, too. Tears were sprinkling the paperand blotting her lines. 

"Oh, I--can't go!--I can't!--I can't!" she sobbed softly. 

Presently she grew quiet, courage came back, determinationstrengthened. She began again to write. But tears brimmed her eyes andspoilt the letter once more. It was disheartening work. 

At last the sorry words were down, and Polly felt that all happinessfor this world was over. 

"I hope I shall die quick, " she said to herself. "Then I can go andlive with mamma. "

She swallowed hard. Even the prospect of Heaven was poor consolationjust now. 

With great painstaking she directed the envelope and placed the stamp. She could not bring herself to seal it; that could wait until the lastmoment. It seemed to her she should then be irrevocably bound to dothe thing she had promised. It would be the final link in thisdreadful chain. 

A passing glance in the small mirror sent her to bathe her hot, tear-stained face before venturing down to the letter-box on thecorner. She dallied with the towel until there was no further excuse, she brushed her hair into unaccustomed smoothness; finally she wentslowly over to her little desk, and took up the envelope, at lastsealing it hurriedly, lest her courage should utterly fail. She wouldslip out to the letter-box, and have the miserable business done withas soon as possible. 

She had reached the door, her hand on the knob, when she heard a stepin the corridor--her mother's step. She halted guiltily, with quickintuition thrusting the letter behind her. 

"Polly! are you here? May I come in?"

Hesitantly Polly opened the door. 

"Hurry off your dress, dear! Mrs. Jocelyn has sent for us to come upto dinner. She says she has been trying to get us by telephone for thelast hour. "

"Chris is over at the hospital, " volunteered Polly, slyly slippingher letter, face down, under her glove-box before running to fetch afresh white frock. 

"No, he has just come home with me, " Mrs. Dudley replied. "He said hecouldn't persuade you to go out this afternoon. Don't you feel well?Your cheeks are flushed, --and your pulse is a little quick, " herfingers on the small wrist. 

"Oh, I'm all right!" insisted Polly, forcing a smile, and pullingaway, to guard against further questioning. 

Why should this invitation have come just now--to make it harder, oh, so much harder, for her to leave them all!

CHAPTER XX

MRS. JOCELYN'S DINNER-PARTY

Leonora met Polly at the door, slipping ahead of the maid to catch herin an ecstatic embrace, and to let go a joyful whisper in her ear. 

"Come right up to my room! I've got something lovely to tell you!"

Leonora's face was so radiant that Polly was all at once reminded ofthat morning at the hospital when she had first heard of her friend'sadoption. What could have happened now to make her look like that?

"Say, " began Leonora, bubbling with news, "Colonel Gresham and Davidand his mother are here!"

Polly's eyes grew big, and her lips puckered into a "Why!" ofastonishment. 

"And, oh, there's lots more!" went on Leonora mysteriously. "But I'mnot to tell! I promised mother I wouldn't--only just that. You'd knowit anyway when you go down. Oh, Polly Dudley, I'm so tickled--there!mother told me not to say that word again!--well, happy, I mean, onlyit doesn't sound so perfectly splendid as I feel. It seems as if Icouldn't stand it!"

"I can't imagine what it is, " mused Polly wonderingly. 

At which Leonora whirled her round and round in a rapturous hug, stopping suddenly to say they must go downstairs. 

After Polly had greeted her hostess and the other guests, she foundthat a conversation was going on about the hospital. 

"Yes, " the Doctor was saying, "we need more room, especially forchildren. We had to refuse two little girls yesterday and a boy theday before; there was absolutely no place where we could put them. "

"Then you think there is demand for a children's hospital in thecity?" asked Mrs. Jocelyn tentatively. 

"A big demand, " the Doctor smiled. 

"I'm glad to hear that, " was the quiet reply, "for I wish to buildone. "

Polly sat up straight and still, her astonished eyes fixed on Mrs. Jocelyn. 

"You could hardly put your money to better use, " responded Dr. Dudley. 

"So I think; but I wanted your opinion before going further. I havethe refusal of the Beecher property west of me; that will give me thewhole block. My plan is to put up two buildings, one on each side ofmy house, --a little to the rear, so as not to cut off thesunlight, --and let this be the connecting link. The head physician canlive here, and both parts will be easy of access--what do you say?"

"Admirable plan, " agreed the Doctor. "But, Mrs. Jocelyn, have youestimated the cost? There'll be practically no end to the expense ofkeeping up such an establishment. "

"I don't care anything about that, " was the indifferent reply. "There's plenty to draw from. " Her face was suddenly swept by a shadowof sadness. "For a long time I have wanted to do something in memoryof Lloyd, --something for children, --and this seems to be the mostfeasible of any plan I've thought of. I don't want it called ahospital either. There is a prejudice among a certain class againstthe very name. Some people will let their children die, rather thansend them to a hospital. So Leonora and I have been choosing--what doyou think of this, 'The Children's House of Joy'?"

"Isn't that perfectly beautiful?" whispered Leonora to Polly, catchingher hand with a little squeeze. 

And so Polly missed her father's answer; but she knew from thecomments of the others that it must have been in favor of the proposedname. 

"This brings us to another question, " resumed the hostess. "Dr. Dudley, do you know of a suitable man for the head of 'The House ofJoy'?"

"I do, " was the instant reply. "His name came to me a moment ago, --Dr. Lanier. You probably know him by reputation. He is the man you oughtto have; there is no better surgeon in the country, and he hasspecialized on diseases of children. I think, too, he can be inducedto come. "

"Have you his address?"

The Doctor drew a package of papers from an inner pocket, and ran themthrough. Then he dived into a second pocket, finally stopping at acard which he handed his questioner. 

"I will call him up, " she decided, and disappeared in the hallway. 

For a while the low sound of a voice filled up the spaces of desultorytalk in the library. Then Mrs. Jocelyn came back, her eyes sosparkling that Polly thought she knew what the answer had been. 

"Don't everybody ask the same question!" laughed the lady, pausingmischievously to note the inquiring faces. "If you wish to knowwhether he is coming, I will tell you. I didn't invite him! I didn'tintend to invite him! I only wished to talk over some few littleessentials--such as salary and so on. No, " she continued impressively, meeting the Doctor's mystified expression with a knowing smile, "Idon't want Dr. Lanier for the head of 'The House of Joy, ' howeversuited he may be for the place. I have set my heart on another, ayounger man, but one equally well fitted for the position. He ismodest of his attainments, yet he is already being sought for outsideof his own city. He has made a specialty of children's diseases, andhas been wonderfully successful in his field of work. I know he wouldmake the new hospital indeed a House of Joy to thousands of littleones. I am speaking of Dr. Robert Dudley, for he is the man I want, and if I cannot have him I won't build any hospital!"

Everybody had turned towards the Doctor, who sat motionless in thesudden hush, the color brightening in his face, his eyes bent on thearm of his chair. Then he looked up. 

"My dear Mrs. Jocelyn, " he began, --and Polly afterwards confided toDavid that his voice sounded so queer and shaky, she was afraid he wasgoing to cry, --"you have paid me the greatest honor that--"

"Didn't I tell you there was something perfectly splendid?" whisperedLeonora softly, in Polly's ear, unable to keep still a moment longer. "I knew it all the time! I knew she wanted him! And that isn't all!Oh, my!--no!"

The most of the Doctor's little speech was quite lost to Polly, forwhen Leonora stopped, everybody seemed to be talking at once. Then, in a flash, Polly connected two things, --the position her father wasto have and the "salary" of which Mrs. Jocelyn had talked with thegreat surgeon. There would be no more "pinch, "--what need would therebe of her going to Uncle Maurice? And the letter wasn't mailed! Shewanted to jump up and shout it at the top of her voice. But insteadshe stole across to her father, and slipped her hand in his. Then, suddenly, her throat ached with the joy of it all, and she was closeto tears, keeping them back only by a mighty effort. 

"Polly! Polly! come here quick!" called Leonora. 

And Polly went, just as Mrs. Jocelyn was saying:--

"No, I shall not need my house any longer. Thirty years ago DavidGresham and I had a quarrel, and we think thirty years is quite longenough for a quarrel to last, --too long, in fact!--so we have made up, as the children say. I shall be very glad to leave all the worry ofhousekeeping to Mrs. Collins, for I am tired of it. "

At this moment she arose to greet a gentleman who was entering theroom. Polly recognized him as the Rector of St. Paul's, and before sherealized what was going on, Mrs. Jocelyn and Colonel Gresham werestanding together, and the marriage ceremony was in progress. 

"What do you think now? Aren't you awfully surprised?" bubbled theirrepressible Leonora, as the first congratulations were spoken. "We're coming to live next to you, right in the house with David, andColonel Gresham will be my father!"

It was after the informal dinner, when the Colonel had the four aroundhim, --Polly and Leonora on either knee, and David and Chris each on anarm of his chair, --that the "lovely thing, " as Leonora called it, happened. 

"Polly, I'm going to have some roses on my piazza next summer, "declared the Colonel, "and I reckon I'll let my quartette pick themout for me. "

"I shall choose Silver Moons, " decided Polly at once. 

"I will be ready for them, thorns and all, " he laughed. "But thereare no thorns on these roses, " taking from his pocket four smalljewel-cases of bright blue leather. 

The children opened them eagerly. Polly's and Leonora's contained goldrings exactly alike and of exquisite workmanship, a little rose sprayencircling the top, and in the heart of the open flower a tiny sparkof dew. The boys' scarf-pins were of similar design, being headed by aminiature full-blown rose. 

"I can never thank you enough for all the beautiful things you giveme, " purred Polly, caressing the ring on her finger. 

"But think what you have done for me!" exclaimed the Colonel. "Youhave let me into the secret of the rose and the thorn. "

THE END

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Tales of love and of women who learned to know the true from thefalse. 

THE SAFETY CURTAIN

A very vivid love story of India. The volume also contains four otherlong stories of equal interest. 

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent.