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+Project Gutenberg's The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by Margaret Vandercook
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+
+Author: Margaret Vandercook
+
+Release Date: May 26, 2011 [EBook #36229]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank, Larry B. Harrison and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+                      BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK
+
+
+                         THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES
+
+               The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge
+               The Ranch Girls’ Pot of Gold
+               The Ranch Girls at Boarding School
+               The Ranch Girls in Europe
+               The Ranch Girls at Home Again
+               The Ranch Girls and their Great Adventure
+
+
+                       THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES
+
+            The Red Cross Girls in the British Trenches
+            The Red Cross Girls on the French Firing Line
+            The Red Cross Girls in Belgium
+            The Red Cross Girls with the Russian Army
+            The Red Cross Girls with the Italian Army
+            The Red Cross Girls Under the Stars and Stripes
+
+
+                     STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
+
+              The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill
+              The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows
+              The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World
+              The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea
+              The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers
+              The Camp Fire Girls in After Years
+              The Camp Fire Girls in the Desert
+              The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the Trail
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: “I Am Sorry,” Billy Replied]
+
+
+
+
+THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS’ CAREERS
+
+BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK
+
+Author of “The Ranch Girls Series,” etc.
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+PHILADELPHIA
+
+THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
+
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1915, by
+
+The John C. Winston Company
+
+
+
+
+                     STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
+
+                              Six Volumes
+
+                The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill
+                The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows
+                The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World
+                The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea
+                The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers
+                The Camp Fire Girls in After Years
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+           CHAPTER                                         PAGE
+                I. Success or Failure?                        7
+               II. “Belinda”                                 17
+              III. Friends and Enemies                       33
+               IV. Farewell!                                 43
+                V. Other Girls                               55
+               VI. The Fire-Maker’s Desire                   82
+              VII. “The Flames in the Wind”                  74
+             VIII. Afternoon Tea and a Mystery               83
+               IX. Preparations                              94
+                X. More Puzzles                             105
+               XI. A Christmas Song and Recognition         119
+              XII. After Her Fashion Polly Explains         133
+             XIII. A Place of Memories                      149
+              XIV. A Sudden Summons                         163
+               XV. “Little Old New York”                    174
+              XVI. “Moira”                                  185
+             XVII. A Reunion                                195
+            XVIII. Home Again                               209
+              XIX. Illusions Swept Away                     218
+               XX. Two Engagements                          233
+              XXI. At the Turn of the Road                  243
+
+
+
+
+                             ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+    “I Am Sorry,” Billy Replied                         Frontispiece
+    Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion              13
+    She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar              63
+    “Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?”         151
+
+
+
+
+The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I—Success or Failure
+
+
+The entire theater was in darkness but for a single light burning at one
+corner of the bare stage, where stood a man and girl.
+
+“Now once more, Miss Polly, please,” the man said encouragingly. “That
+last try had a bit more life in it. Only do remember that you are
+supposed to be amusing, and don’t wear such a tragic expression.”
+
+Then a stiff figure, very young, very thin, and with a tense white face,
+moved backward half a dozen steps, only to stumble awkwardly forward the
+next instant with both hands pressed tight together.
+
+“I can’t—I can’t find it,” she began uncertainly, “I have searched——”
+
+Lifting her eyes at this moment to her companion’s, Polly O’Neill burst
+into tears.
+
+“I am a hopeless, abject failure, Mr. Hunt, and I shall never, never
+learn to act in a thousand years. There is no use in your trying to
+teach me, for if we remain at the theater for the rest of the day I
+shall make exactly the same mistakes tonight. Oh, how can I possibly
+play a funny character when my teeth are positively chattering with
+fright even at a rehearsal? It is sheer madness, my daring to appear
+with you and Margaret Adams before a first-night New York audience and
+in a new play. Even if I have only a tiny part, I can manage to make
+just as great a mess of it. Why, why did I ever dream I wished to have a
+career, I wonder. I only want to go back home this minute to Woodford
+and never stir a step away from that blessed village as long as I live.”
+
+“Heigho, says Mistress Polly,” quoted her companion and then waited
+without smiling while the girl dried her tears.
+
+“But you felt very differently from this several years ago when you
+acted with me in The Castle of Life,” he argued in a reassuring tone.
+“Besides, you were then very young and had not had two years of dramatic
+training. I was amazed at your self-confidence, and now I don’t
+understand why you should feel so much more nervous.”
+
+Polly squared her slender shoulders. “Yes you do, Mr. Hunt,” she
+insisted, bluntly. “However, if you really don’t understand, I think I
+can make you see in a moment. Four years ago when I behaved like a
+naughty child and without letting my friends or family know acted the
+part of the fairy of the woods in the Christmas pantomime, I had not the
+faintest idea of what a serious thing I was attempting. I did not even
+dream of how many mistakes I could make. Besides, that was only a
+school-girl prank and I never thought that any one in the audience might
+know me. But now, why at this moment I can hear dozens of people
+whispering: ‘See that girl on the stage there taking the character of
+the maid, Belinda; she is Polly O’Neill. You may remember that she is
+one of the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls and for years has been
+worrying her family to let her become an actress. I don’t believe she
+will ever make a success. Really, she is the worst stick I ever saw on
+the stage!’”
+
+And so real had her imaginary critic become that Polly shuddered and
+then clasped her hands together in a tragic fashion.
+
+“Then think of my poor mother and my sister, Mollie, and Betty Ashton
+and a dozen or more of my old Camp Fire friends who have come to New
+York to see me make my début tonight! Can’t you tell Miss Adams I am
+ill; isn’t there some one who can take my place? I really am ill, you
+know, Mr. Hunt,” Polly pleaded, the tears again starting to her eyes.
+
+Since Polly’s return from the summer in Europe, two years of eager
+ambition and hard work had been spent in a difficult training. As a
+result she looked older and more fragile. This morning her face was
+characteristically pale and the two bright patches of color usually
+burning on her cheek bones had vanished. Her chin had become so pointed
+that it seemed almost elfish, and her head appeared too small for its
+heavy crown of jet-black hair. Indeed, at this time in her life, in the
+opinion of strangers, only the blueness of her eyes with the Irish
+shadows underneath saved the girl from positive plainness. To her
+friends, of course, she was always just Polly and so beyond criticism.
+
+Having finally through years of persuasion and Margaret Adams’ added
+influence won her mother’s consent to follow the stage for her
+profession, Polly had come to New York, where she devoted every possible
+hour of the day and night to her work. There had been hundreds of
+lessons in physical culture, in learning to walk properly and to sit
+down. Still more important had been the struggle with the pronunciation
+of even the simplest words, besides the hundred and one minor lessons of
+which the outsider never dreams. Polly had continued patient,
+hard-working and determined. No longer did she give performances of
+Juliet, draped in a red tablecloth, before audiences of admiring girls.
+
+Never for a moment since their first meeting at the Camp Fire play in
+Sunrise Hill cabin had Margaret Adams ceased to show a deep interest in
+the wayward, ambitious and often unreliable Polly. She it was who had
+recommended the school in New York City and the master under whom Polly
+was to make her stage preparations. And here at the first possible
+moment Margaret Adams had offered her the chance for a début under the
+most auspicious conditions.
+
+The play was a clever farce called A Woman’s Wit, and especially written
+for the celebrated actress, who was to be supported by Richard Hunt,
+Polly’s former acquaintance, as leading man.
+
+Of course the play had been in rehearsal for several weeks; but Polly
+had been convinced that her own work had been growing poorer and poorer
+as each day went by.
+
+“Look here, Miss O’Neill,” a voice said harshly, and Polly stopped
+shaking to glance at her companion in surprise. During the last few
+months she and Richard Hunt had renewed their acquaintance and in every
+possible way Mr. Hunt had been kind and helpful. Yet now his manner had
+suddenly grown stern and forbidding.
+
+[Illustration: Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion]
+
+“You are talking wildly and absurdly and like a foolish child instead of
+a woman,” he said coldly. “Surely you must know that you are having a
+rare chance tonight because of Miss Adams’ friendship and you must not
+disappoint her. If you fail to succeed, that will be unfortunate, but if
+you run away—” Suddenly Richard Hunt laughed. What a ridiculous
+suggestion! Of course Polly had only been talking in a silly school-girl
+fashion without any idea of being taken seriously.
+
+“Good-by, Miss Polly, and cheer up,” Richard Hunt finally said, holding
+out his hand, his manner friendly once more; for after all she was only
+a frightened child and he was at least ten years her senior. “Doubtless
+you’ll put us all to shame tonight and Belinda will be the success of
+the evening.” Then as he moved away toward the stage door he added, “It
+was absurd of me to be so annoyed, but do you know, for a moment you
+made me believe you really thought of running away. What about the Camp
+Fire law of that famous club to which you once belonged? Did it not tell
+you to be trustworthy and not to undertake an enterprise rashly, but,
+having undertaken it, to complete it unflinchingly. Do go home now and
+rest, child, things are sure to turn out splendidly.” And with a smile
+of sympathy the man walked away.
+
+So in another moment Polly was standing alone on an otherwise empty
+stage, torn with indecision and dread. Was Mr. Hunt right in believing
+that she had uttered only an idle threat in saying that she meant to run
+away? Yet would it not be wiser to disappear than to make an utter
+failure of her part tonight and be unable either to move or speak when
+the eyes of the audience were fixed expectantly upon her?
+
+Slowly the girl walked toward the door, her face scarlet one moment,
+then like chalk the next. She could hear the scene-shifters moving about
+and realized that she would soon be in their way. But what should she
+do? Polly realized that if she went to her boarding place her mother and
+Mollie would be there waiting for her and then there could be no
+possible chance of escape.
+
+Always Polly O’Neill had permitted herself to yield to sudden, nearly
+uncontrollable impulses. Should she do so now? In the last few years she
+believed she had acquired more self-control, better judgment. Yet in
+this panic of fear they had vanished once more. Of course Miss Adams
+would never forgive her, and no one would have any respect for her
+again. All this the girl realized and yet at the moment nothing appeared
+so dreadful as walking out on the stage and repeating the dozen or more
+sentences required of her. Rather would she have faced the guillotine.
+
+“‘Finvarra and their land of heart’s desire,’” Polly quoted softly and
+scornfully to herself. Well, she had been hoping that she was to reach
+the land of her heart’s desire tonight. Was this not to be the beginning
+of the stage career for which she had worked and prayed and dreamed?
+
+Out on the street Polly was now walking blindly ahead. She had at last
+reached her decision, and yet how could she ever arrange to carry it
+out?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II—“Belinda”
+
+
+It was twenty-five minutes past eight o’clock and at half-past eight the
+curtain was to rise on the first performance of A Woman’s Wit, written
+especially for Margaret Adams. And because of her popularity and that of
+her leading man, the house had been sold out weeks in advance.
+
+The action of the play was to take place in a small town in Colorado,
+where a man and his wife were both endeavoring to be elected to the
+office of Mayor. Polly was to play the part of a clever little
+shop-girl, whom the heroine had brought into her home, supposedly as a
+parlor maid. But in reality the girl was to do all that was in her power
+to assist her mistress in gaining a victory over her husband. She was to
+watch his movements and to suggest any schemes that she might devise for
+their success.
+
+In the act which Polly had recently been rehearsing she was engaged in
+trying to discover a political speech written by the hero, so that the
+wife might read it beforehand and so answer it in a convincing fashion
+before the evening meeting of the Woman’s Club. The play was a witty
+farce, and Belinda was supposedly one of the cleverest and most amusing
+characters. Yet whether Polly could succeed in making her appear so was
+still exceedingly doubtful.
+
+With this idea in mind Richard Hunt left his dressing room, hoping to
+see Polly for a few moments if possible before the play began. Perhaps
+her fright had passed. For already the man and girl were sufficiently
+intimate friends for him to understand how swiftly her moods changed.
+
+Polly had apparently left her dressing room, since there was no answer
+to repeated knockings. She could not have carried out her threat of the
+morning? Of course such a supposition was an absurdity. And yet the
+man’s frown relaxed and his smile was one of unconscious relief when a
+tall, delicate figure in a blue dress came hurrying toward him along the
+dimly-lighted passage-way. The girl did not seem aware of anything or
+anybody, so great was her hurry and nervousness. However, this was not
+unreasonable, for instead of having on her maid’s costume for the
+performance, she was wearing an evening gown of shimmering silk and in
+the coiled braids of her black hair a single pink rose.
+
+“You are late, Miss Polly; may I find some one to help you dress?”
+
+Instantly a pair of blue eyes were turned toward him in surprise and
+reproach. They were probably not such intensely blue eyes as Polly
+O’Neill’s and they had a far gentler expression, though they were of
+exactly the same shape. And the girl’s hair was equally black, her
+figure and carriage almost similar, except that she was less thin. But
+instead of Polly’s accustomed pallor this girl’s cheeks were as
+delicately flushed as the rose in her hair. “Could an evening costume so
+metamorphose a human being?” Richard Hunt wondered in a vaguely puzzled,
+uncertain fashion.
+
+A small hand was thrust forward without the least sign of haste,
+although it trembled a little from shyness.
+
+“I’m not Polly, Mr. Hunt,” the girl said smiling. “I am Mollie, her twin
+sister. But you must not mistake us, because even if we do look alike,
+we are not in the least alike in other ways. For one thing, I wouldn’t
+be in Polly O’Neill’s shoes tonight, not for this whole world with a
+fence around it. How can she do such a horrible thing as to be an
+actress? Polly considers that I haven’t a spark of ambition, but why on
+earth should a sensible girl want a career?”
+
+Suddenly Mollie blushed until her cheeks were pinker than before. “Oh, I
+am so sorry! I forgot for the moment that you were an actor, Mr. Hunt.
+Of course things are very different with you. A man must have a career!
+But I ought to apologize for talking to you without our having met each
+other. You see, Polly has spoken of you so many times, saying how kind
+you had been in trying to help her, that I thought for the instant I
+actually did know you. Forgive me, and now I must find Polly.”
+
+Mollie was always shy, but realizing all at once how much she had
+confided to a stranger, she felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. How the
+other girls would laugh if they ever learned of what she had said. Yet
+Mr. Hunt was not laughing at her, nor did he appear in the least
+offended. Mollie was sure he must be as kind as Polly had declared him,
+although he did look older than she had expected and must be quite
+thirty, as his hair was beginning to turn gray at the temples and there
+were heavy lines about the corners of his mouth. As Mollie now turned
+the handle of her sister’s dressing-room door she was hoping that her
+new acquaintance had not noticed how closely she had studied him.
+
+However, she need not have worried, for her companion was only thinking
+of how pretty she was and yet how oddly like her twin sister. For Mollie
+seemed to possess the very graces that Polly lacked. Evidently she was
+more amiable, better poised and more reliable, her figure was more
+attractive, her color prettier and her manner gracious and appealing.
+
+“I am afraid you won’t find your sister in there, Miss O’Neill. I have
+knocked several times without an answer,” Richard Hunt finally
+interposed.
+
+“Won’t find her?” Mollie repeated the words in consternation. “Then
+where on earth is she? Miss Adams sent me to tell Polly that she wished
+to speak to her for half a moment before the curtain went up. Besides,
+Miss Ashton has already searched everywhere for her for quite ten
+minutes and then came back to her seat in the theater, having had to
+give up.”
+
+Forcibly Mollie now turned the handle of the door and peered in. The
+small room was unoccupied, as the other two members of the company who
+shared it with Polly, having dressed some time before, had also
+disappeared.
+
+But Richard Hunt could wait no longer to assist in discovering the
+wanderer. Five minutes had passed, so that his presence would soon be
+required upon the stage. Surely if Polly had failed to appear at the
+theater her sister would be aware of it. Yet there was still a chance
+that she had sent a hurried message to the stage director so that her
+character could be played by an understudy. Even Polly would scarcely
+wreck the play by simply failing at the last moment.
+
+He was vaguely uneasy. He had been interested in Polly, first because of
+their chance acquaintance several years before when they both acted in
+The Castle of Life, and also because of Miss Adams’ deep affection for
+her protégé. The man had been unable to decide whether Polly had any
+talent for the career which she professed to care for so greatly.
+
+Now and then during the frequent rehearsals of their new play she had
+done very well. But the very day after a clever performance she was more
+than apt to give a poor one until the stage manager had almost
+despaired. Nevertheless Richard Hunt acknowledged to himself that there
+was something about the girl that made one unable to forget her. She was
+so intense, loving and hating, laughing and crying with her whole soul.
+Whatever her fate in after years, one could not believe that it would be
+an entirely conventional one.
+
+His cue had been called and Miss Adams was already on the stage. In a
+quarter of an hour when Belinda was summoned by her mistress, he would
+know whether or not Polly had feigned illness or whether she had kept
+her threat and ignominiously run away.
+
+The moment came. A door swung abruptly forward at the rear of the stage
+and through it a girl entered swiftly. She was dressed in a
+tight-fitting gray frock with black silk stockings and slippers. There
+was a tiny white cap on her head and she wore a small fluted apron. She
+looked very young, very clever and graceful. And it was Polly O’Neill,
+and Polly at her best!
+
+For the briefest instant Richard Hunt and Margaret Adams exchanged
+glances. It was obvious that Margaret Adams had also been uneasy over
+her favorite’s début. For her eyes brightened and she nodded
+encouragingly as the little maid set down the tray she was carrying with
+a bang and then turned saucily to speak to her master. A laugh from the
+audience followed her first speech.
+
+The Polly of the morning had completely vanished. This girl’s cheeks
+were crimson, her eyes danced with excitement and vivacity. She was
+fairly sparkling with Irish wit and grace and, best of all, she appeared
+entirely unafraid.
+
+It was not alone Polly O’Neill’s two comparatively new friends upon the
+stage with her, who now felt relieved from anxiety by her clever
+entrance. More than a dozen persons in the audience forming a large
+theater party occupying the sixth and seventh rows in the orchestra
+chairs, breathed inaudible sighs of relief.
+
+There sat Betty Ashton and Dick and Esther, who had come down from
+Boston to New York City for Polly’s début. Next Betty was a handsome,
+grave young man, who had only a few days before been elected to the New
+Hampshire Legislature by the residents of Woodford and the surrounding
+country, Anthony Graham. On his other side eat his sister, Nan, a
+dark-eyed, dark-haired girl with a quiet, refined manner. Near by and
+staring straight ahead through a pair of large, gold-rimmed spectacles
+was another girl with sandy hair, light blue eyes, a square jaw and a
+determined, serious expression. Nothing did Sylvia Wharton take lightly,
+and least of all the success or failure tonight of her adored
+step-sister. For Sylvia’s ardent affection for Polly had never wavered
+since the early Camp Fire days at Sunrise Hill. And while she often
+disapproved of her and freely told her so, as she had then, still Polly
+knew that Sylvia could always be counted on through good and ill.
+
+So far as the younger girl’s own work was concerned there was little
+doubt of her success. Each year she had been at the head of her class in
+the training school for nurses and had since taken up the study of
+medicine. For Sylvia had never cared for frivolities, for beaus or
+dancing or ordinary good times. Polly often used to say that she would
+like to shake her younger step-sister for her utter seriousness, yet
+Sylvia rarely replied that she might have other and better reasons for
+administering the same discipline to Polly.
+
+Back of this party of six friends Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, Polly’s mother
+and stepfather, her sister Mollie and Billy Webster were seated. Billy,
+however, was no longer called by this youthful title except by his most
+intimate friends. He had never since the day Polly had teased him
+concerning it, asking him how it felt to be a shadowy imitation of a
+great man, used the name of Daniel. He was known to the people in
+Woodford and the neighborhood as William Webster, since Billy’s father
+had died a year before and he now had the entire management of their
+large and successful farm. Indeed, the young man was considered one of
+the most expert of the new school of scientific farmers in his section
+of the country. And although Billy undoubtedly looked like a country
+fellow, there was no denying that he was exceedingly handsome. He was
+six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an erect carriage; his skin was
+tanned by the sun and wind, making his eyes appear more deeply blue and
+his hair almost the color of copper. Now seated next to Mollie he was
+endeavoring to make her less nervous, although any one could have seen
+he was equally nervous himself.
+
+Frank Wharton and Eleanor Meade, who were to be married in a few months,
+were together, and next came yellow-haired Meg and her brother, John.
+Then only a few places away Rose and Dr. Barton and Faith, the youngest
+of the former group of Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls, who had been
+adopted by her former guardian and now was known by Dr. Barton’s name.
+Faith was an unusual-looking girl, with the palest gold hair which she
+wore tied back with a black velvet ribbon. She had a curious, far-away
+expression in her great blue eyes and the simplicity of a little child.
+For Faith had never ceased her odd fashion of living in dreams, so that
+the real world was yet an unexplored country to her. Indeed, in her
+quaint short-waisted white muslin frock, with a tiny fan and a bunch of
+country flowers in her hand, she might have sat as one of the models for
+Arthur Rackham’s spiritual, half-fairy children. Tonight she was even
+more quiet than usual, since this was the first time she had ever been
+inside a theater in her life. And had it not been for the reality of
+Polly O’Neill’s presence, one of her very own group of Camp Fire girls,
+she must have thought herself on a different planet.
+
+Herr and Frau Krippen had not been able to leave Woodford for this great
+occasion, since they boasted a very small and very new baby, with hair
+as red as its father’s and as Esther’s. But otherwise it looked
+singularly like the first of the Sunrise Hill Camp Fire guardians, the
+Miss Martha, whom the girls had then believed fore-ordained to eternal
+old-maidenhood.
+
+So on this eventful night in her career, Polly O’Neill’s old friends and
+family were certainly well represented. Fortunately, however, she had so
+far given no thought to their presence.
+
+Now Belinda must rush frantically about on the stage, making a pretext
+of dusting the while she is eagerly listening to the conversation taking
+place between her master and mistress. Then in another moment they both
+leave the stage and Polly at last has her real opportunity. For with
+Margaret Adams present, naturally the chief attention of the audience
+would be concentrated upon her with her talent, her magnetism and her
+great reputation.
+
+Yet as Miss Adams slipped away with a fleeting and encouraging lifting
+of her eyebrows toward her little maid, suddenly Polly O’Neill felt that
+the hour of her final reckoning had come. Curiously, until now she had
+not been self-conscious nor frightened; not for an instant had she been
+pursued by the terrors that had so harassed her all day that she had
+made a dozen plans to escape. Yet with the attention of the large
+audience suddenly riveted upon her alone, they were returning like a
+thousand fiends.
+
+Polly felt like an atom surrounded by infinite space, like a spot of
+light in an eternity of darkness. Her voice had gone, her limbs were
+stiff, yet automatically she continued her dusting for a moment longer,
+hoping that a miracle might turn her into a human being again. Useless:
+her voice would never return, her legs felt as if they belonged to a
+figure in Mrs. Jarley’s waxworks.
+
+One could not devote the entire evening polishing the stage furniture!
+Already she could hear the agonized voice of the prompter whispering her
+lines, which he naturally supposed her to have forgotten.
+
+In some fashion Polly must have dragged herself to the spot on the stage
+where she had been previously instructed to stand, and there somehow she
+must have succeeded in repeating the few sentences required of her,
+although she never knew how she did the one or the other; for soon the
+other players made their proper entrances and the unhappy Belinda was
+allowed to withdraw.
+
+Yet although Polly could never clearly recall the events on the stage
+during these few moments, of one thing she was absolutely conscious. By
+some wretched accident she had glanced appealingly down, hoping to find
+encouragement in the face of her mother, sister, or Betty Ashton.
+Instead, however, she had caught the blue eyes of her old antagonist,
+Billy Webster, fixed upon her with such an expression of consternation,
+sympathy and amusement that she was never to forget the look for the
+rest of her life.
+
+In the final scene, the one so diligently rehearsed during the morning,
+Belinda did not make such a complete failure. But, as she slipped away
+to her dressing room at the close of the performance, Polly O’Neill
+knew, before tongue or pen could set it down, the verdict that must
+follow her long-desired stage début. Alas, that in this world there are
+many of us unlike Cæsar: we come, we see, but we do not conquer!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III—Friends and Enemies
+
+
+Standing outside in the dark passage for a moment, Polly hesitated with
+her hand on the door-knob, having already opened the door a few inches.
+From the inside she could plainly hear the voices of the two girls who
+shared the dressing room with her. Neither one of them had an important
+place in the cast. They merely came on in one of the scenes as members
+of a group and without speaking. However, they were both clever,
+ambitious girls whom Polly liked. Now her attention had been arrested by
+hearing the sound of her own name.
+
+“Polly O’Neill was a dreadful failure, wasn’t she?” one of them was
+saying. “Well, I am not in the least surprised. Indeed, it was just what
+I expected. Of course, she was only given the part of Belinda because of
+favoritism. Miss Adams is such a great friend of hers!”
+
+Then before Polly could make her presence known the second girl replied:
+
+“So far as I can see, Polly O’Neill has never shown a particle of
+ability at any of the rehearsals that would justify her being placed
+over the rest of us. I am sure that either you or I would have done far
+better. But never mind; perhaps some day we may be famous actresses and
+she nothing at all, when there is no Miss Adams to help her along.”
+
+But at this same instant Polly walked into the room.
+
+“I am so sorry I overheard what you said, but it was entirely my fault,
+not yours,” she began directly. “Only please don’t think I intended to
+be eavesdropping. It was quite an accident my appearing just at the
+wrong moment. Of course I am hurt by your thinking I acted Belinda so
+poorly. Perhaps one of you would have been more successful. But do
+please understand that I realize perfectly that I had the chance given
+me because of Miss Adams’ friendship and not because of my own talents.”
+Then, though Polly’s cheeks were flaming during her long speech and her
+tones not always steady, she smiled at her companions in entire good
+fellowship.
+
+Immediately the older girl, walking across the floor, laid her hand on
+Polly’s shoulder. “I am not going to take back all I said a while ago,
+for I meant a part of it,” she declared half apologetically and half
+with bravado. “Honestly, I don’t think you were very good as Belinda.
+But I have seen you act rather well at rehearsals now and then. I think
+you failed tonight because you suddenly grew so frightened. Don’t be
+discouraged; goodness knows it has happened to many an actor before who
+afterwards became famous,” she ended in an effort to be comforting.
+
+“Yes, and it is all very well for us to talk here in our dressing rooms
+about being more successful than you were,” the second girl added, “but
+there is no way of our proving that we would not have had even worse
+cases of stage fright.” She gave Polly’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Of
+course, you must know we are both jealous of Miss Adams’ affection for
+you or we would never have been such horrid cats.” The girl blushed. “Do
+try and forget what we said, it was horrid not to have been kinder and
+more sympathetic. You may have a chance to pay us back with interest
+some day. Anyhow, you are a splendid sport not to be angry. I am sure it
+is the people who take things as you have this who will win out in the
+end.”
+
+Then no one referred to the subject again. For it was plain that Polly
+was exhausted and that her nerves had nearly reached the breaking point.
+Instead, both girls now did their best to assist her in taking off the
+costume of the ill-fated Belinda and in getting into an ordinary street
+costume. For Polly was to meet her family and friends in a small
+reception room adjoining Miss Adams’ dressing room, five minutes after
+the close of the play. She would have preferred to have marched up to
+the cannon’s mouth, and she was much too tired at present either for
+congratulations or censure. She heard Mollie and Betty Ashton coming
+toward the door to seek for her.
+
+Of course they were both immediately enthusiastic over Polly’s début and
+were sure that she had been a pronounced success. For in the minds of
+her sister and friend, Polly was simply incapable of failure. And
+perhaps they did succeed in making the rest of the evening easier for
+her. But then all of her old Camp Fire and Woodford friends were as kind
+as possible. To have one of their own girls acting on a real stage
+seemed fame enough in itself.
+
+But from two of her friends, from Sylvia Wharton and from Billy Webster,
+Polly received the truth as they saw it. Sylvia’s came with spoken
+words, and Billy’s by a more painful silence.
+
+As Polly entered the room, Sylvia came forward, and kissed her solemnly.
+The two girls had not seen each other for a number of weeks. Sylvia had
+only arrived in New York a few hours before.
+
+“You were dreadfully nervous, Polly, just as I thought you would be,”
+Sylvia remarked quietly, holding her step-sister’s attention by the
+intensity and concentration of her gaze behind the gold-rimmed
+spectacles. “Now I am afraid you are fearfully tired and upset. I do
+wish you would go home immediately and go to bed instead of talking to
+all these people. But I suppose you have already decided because you did
+not act as well as you expected this evening that you will never do any
+better. Promise me to be reasonable this one time, Polly, and may I see
+you alone and have a talk with you tomorrow?”
+
+Then there was only time for the older girl to nod agreement and to
+place her hot hand for an instant into Sylvia’s large, strong one, that
+already had a kind of healing touch.
+
+For Mrs. Wharton was now demanding her daughter’s attention, wishing to
+introduce her to friends. Since she had finally made up her mind to
+allow Polly to try her fate as an actress, Mrs. Wharton had no doubt of
+her ultimate brilliant success.
+
+Five minutes afterwards, quite by accident, Richard Hunt found himself
+standing near enough to Polly to feel that he must also say something in
+regard to her début.
+
+“I am glad Belinda did not run away today, Miss Polly,” he whispered.
+“Do you know I almost believed she intended to for a few moments this
+morning?” And the man smiled at the absurdity of his idea.
+
+Polly glanced quickly up toward her companion, a warm flush coloring her
+tired face. “It might have been better for the play if I had, Mr. Hunt,
+I’m a-thinking,” she answered with a mellow Irish intonation in the low
+tones of her voice. “But you need not think I did not mean what I said.
+Don’t tell on me, but I had a ticket bought and my bag packed and all my
+plans made for running away and then at the last even I could not be
+quite such a coward.” The girl’s expression changed. “Perhaps, after
+all, I may yet be forced into using that ticket some day,” she added,
+half laughing and half serious, as she turned to speak to some one else
+who had joined them.
+
+For another idle moment the man still thought of his recent companion.
+How much or how little of her rash statements did the child mean? Yet he
+might have spared himself the trouble of this reflection, for this
+question about Polly was never to be satisfactorily answered.
+
+Although by this time the greater number of persons in Margaret Adams’
+reception room had spoken to Polly either to say kind things or the
+reverse, there was, however, one individual who had devoted his best
+efforts to avoiding her. Yet there had never been such an occasion
+before tonight. For whether he chanced to be angry with her at the
+moment or pleased, Billy Webster had always enjoyed the opportunity of
+talking to Polly, since she always stirred his deepest emotions, no
+matter what the emotions chanced to be. Tonight he had no desire to
+repeat the fatal words, “I told you so.”
+
+Of course he had always known that Polly O’Neill would never be a
+successful actress; she was far too erratic, too emotional. If only she
+had been sensible for once and listened to him that day in the woods
+long ago! Suddenly Billy squared his broad shoulders and closed his firm
+young lips. For, separating herself from every one else, Polly was
+actually marching directly toward him, and she had ever an uncanny
+fashion of guessing what was going on in other people’s heads.
+
+Underneath his country tan Billy Webster blushed furiously and honestly.
+
+“You think I was a rank failure, don’t you?” Polly demanded at once.
+
+Still speechless, the young man nodded his head.
+
+“You don’t believe I ever will do much better?” Again Billy nodded
+agreement.
+
+“And that I had much better have stayed at home in Woodford and learned
+to cook and sew and—and—well, some day try to be somebody’s wife?” the
+girl ended a little breathlessly.
+
+This time Billy Webster did not mince matters. “I most assuredly do,” he
+answered with praiseworthy bluntness.
+
+Now for the first time since her fiasco as Belinda, Polly’s eyes flashed
+with something of their old fire. And there in the presence of the
+company, though unheeded by them, she stamped her foot just as she
+always had as a naughty child.
+
+“I will succeed, Billy Webster, I will, I will! I don’t care how many
+failures I may make in learning! And just because I want to be a good
+actress is no reason why I can’t marry some day, if there is any man in
+the world who could both love and understand me and who would not wish
+to make me over according to his own particular pattern.” Then Polly
+smiled. “Thank you a thousand times, though, Billy, for you are the
+solitary person who has done me any good tonight. It is quite like old
+times, isn’t it, for us to start quarreling as soon as we meet. But,
+farewell, I must go home now and to bed.” Polly held out her hand. “You
+are an obstinate soul, Billy, but I can’t help admiring you for the
+steadfast way in which you disapprove of me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV—Farewell!
+
+
+Margaret Adams was in her private sitting room in her own home, an
+old-fashioned red brick house near Washington Square. She had been
+writing letters for more than an hour and had just seated herself in a
+big chair and closed her eyes. She looked very young and tiny at this
+instant to be such a great lady. Her silk morning dress was only a shade
+lighter than the rose-colored chair.
+
+Suddenly ten fingers were lightly laid over her eyes.
+
+“Guess who I am or I shall never release you,” a rich, soft voice
+demanded, and Margaret Adams drew the fingers down and kissed them.
+
+“Silly Polly, as if it could be any one else? What ever made you come
+out in this rain, child? You had a cold, anyway, and it is a perfectly
+beastly day.”
+
+Instead of replying, Polly sat down in front of a small, open fire,
+putting her toes up on the fender.
+
+“You are a hospitable lady,” she remarked finally, “but I am not wet
+specially. I left my damp things down stairs so as not to bring them
+into this pretty room. It always makes me think of the rose lining to a
+cloud; one could never have the blues in here.”
+
+The room was charming. The walls were delicately pink, almost flesh
+color, with a deeper pink border above. A few original paintings were
+hung in a low line—one of an orchard with apple trees in spring bloom.
+The mantel was of white Italian marble with a bust of Dante’s Beatrice
+upon it and this morning it also held a vase of roses. Over near the
+window a desk of inlaid mahogany was littered with letters, papers,
+writing materials and photographs. On a table opposite the newest
+magazines and books were carefully arranged, together with a framed
+photograph of Polly and Margaret Adams’ taken when they were in London
+several years before. There was also a photograph of Richard Hunt and
+several others of distinguished men and women who were devoted friends
+of the famous actress.
+
+A big, rose-colored divan was piled with a number of silk and velvet
+cushions of pale green and rose. Then there were other odd chairs and
+tables and shaded lamps and curtains of rose-colored damask hung over
+white net. But the room was neither too beautiful nor fanciful to be
+homelike and comfortable. Two or three ugly things Margaret Adams still
+kept near her for old associations’ sake and these alone, Polly
+insisted, made it possible for her to come into this room. For she, too,
+was an ugly thing, allowed to stay there now and then because of past
+association.
+
+Polly was not looking particularly well today. She had been acting for
+ten days in A Woman’s Wit, though that would scarcely explain her heavy
+eyelids, nor her colorless cheeks. Polly’s eyes were so big in her white
+face and her hair so black that actually she looked more like an Irish
+pixie than an ordinary every-day girl.
+
+“You’ll stay to lunch with me, Polly, and I’ll send you home in my
+motor,” Margaret Adams announced authoritatively. “I suppose your mother
+and Mollie have gone back to Woodford? I know Betty has returned to
+Boston, she came in to say good-by and to tell me that she is spending
+the winter in Boston with her brother, Dr. Ashton, and his wife. Betty
+is really prettier than ever, don’t you think so? I believe it was you,
+Polly, who really saved Betty from marrying her German princeling, but
+what will the child do now without you to look after her?”
+
+Margaret Adams arose and walked across the room, presumably to ring for
+her maid, but in reality to have a closer look at her visitor. For Polly
+had not yet answered her idle questions; nor did she even show the
+slightest interest in the mention of her beloved Betty’s name. Something
+most unusual must be the matter with her.
+
+“I should like to stay to lunch if no one else is coming,” Polly
+returned a moment later. “I did not like to disturb you earlier. There
+is something I want to tell you and so I might as well say it at once. I
+am not going to try to act Belinda any longer. I am going away from New
+York tomorrow. Yet you must not think I am ungrateful, even though I am
+not going to tell you where I am going nor what I intend to do.” Polly
+clasped her thin arms about her knees and began slowly rocking herself
+back and forth with her eyes fastened on the fire, as though not daring
+to glance toward her friend.
+
+At first Margaret Adams made no reply. Then she answered coldly and a
+little disdainfully: “So you are playing the coward, Polly! Instead of
+trying each night to do better and better work you are running away. If
+for an instant I had dreamed that you had so little courage, so little
+backbone, I never should have encouraged you to enter one of the most
+difficult professions in the whole world. Come, dear, you are tired and
+perhaps ill. I ought not to scold you. But I want you to forget what you
+have just said. Goodness knows, I have not forgotten the bitterly
+discouraged days I used to have and do still have every now and then.
+Only somehow I hoped a Camp Fire girl might be different, that her club
+training might give her fortitude. Remember ‘Wohelo means work. We
+glorify work because through work we are free. We work to win, to
+conquer and be masters. We work for the joy of working and because we
+are free.’ Long ago I thought you and I decided that the Camp Fire rules
+would apply equally well to whatever career a girl undertook, no matter
+what she might try to do or be.”
+
+“Oh, I have not forgotten; I think of our old talks very often,” was
+Polly’s unsatisfactory reply.
+
+A little nearer the fire Margaret Adams now drew her own big chair. It
+was October and the rain was a cold one, making the blaze comforting.
+The whole atmosphere of the room was peculiarly intimate and cozy and
+yet the girl did not appear any happier.
+
+“I wonder if you would like to hear of my early trials, Polly?” Margaret
+asked. “Not because they were different from other people’s, but perhaps
+because they were so like. I believe I promised to tell you my history
+once several years ago.”
+
+The older woman did not glance toward her visitor, as she had no doubt
+of her interest. Instead she merely curled herself up in her chair like
+a girl eager to tell a most interesting story.
+
+“You see, dear, I made my début not when I was twenty-one like you are,
+but when I was exactly seven. Of course even now one does not like to
+talk of it, but I never remember either my father or mother. They were
+both actors and died when I was very young, leaving me without money and
+to be brought up in any way fate chose. I don’t know just why I was not
+sent at once to an orphan asylum, but for some reason or other a woman
+took charge of me who used to do all kinds of odd work about the
+theater, help mend clothes, assist with the dressing, scrub floors if
+necessary. She was frightfully poor, so of course there is no blame to
+be attached to her for making me try to earn my own bread as soon as
+possible. And bread it was actually.” Margaret Adams laughed, yet not
+with the least trace of bitterness. “A child was needed in a play, one
+of the melodramas that used to be so popular when I was young, a little
+half-starved waif. I dare say I had no trouble in looking the part. You
+see I’m not very big now, Polly, so I must have been a ridiculously
+thin, homely child, all big staring eyes and straight brownish hair. I
+was engaged to stand outside a baker’s shop window gazing wistfully in
+at a beautiful display of shiny currant buns until the heroine appeared.
+Then, touched by my plight, she nobly presented me with a penny with
+which I purchased a bun. Well, dear, that piece of bread was all the pay
+I received for my night’s performance, and it was all the supper I had.
+One night—funny how I can recall it all as if it were yesterday—coming
+out of the shop I stumbled, dropped my bun and at the same instant saw
+it rolling away from me down toward the blazing row of footlights. I had
+not a thought then of where I was or of anything in all the world but
+that I was a desperately hungry child, losing my supper. So with a
+pitiful cry I jumped up and ran after my bread. When I picked it up I
+think I hugged it close to me like a treasure and kissed it. Well, dear,
+you can imagine that the very unconsciousness, the genuineness of the
+little act won the audience. I know a good many people cried that night
+and afterwards. The reason I still remember the little scene so
+perfectly was because after that first time I had to do the same thing
+over and over again as long as the play ran. It was my first ‘hit,’
+Polly, though I never understood what it meant for years and years
+afterwards.”
+
+“Poor baby,” Polly whispered softly, taking her friend’s hand and
+touching it with her lips. “But I don’t care how or why the thing
+happened I have always known that you must have been a genius from the
+very first.”
+
+“Genius?” The older woman smiled, shaking her head. “I don’t think so,
+Polly; I may have had some talent, although it took me many years to
+prove it. Mostly it has all been just hard work with me and beginning at
+seven, you see I have had a good many years. Do you think I became
+famous immediately after I captured the audience and the bun? My dear, I
+don’t believe I have ever known another girl as impossible as I was as
+an actress after I finally grew up. I did not continue acting. My foster
+mother married and I was then sent to school for a number of years.
+Finally, when I was sixteen, I came back to the stage, though I did not
+have a speaking part till five years later. You see, I was not pretty,
+and I never got very big in spite of the buns. It was not until I played
+in The Little Curate years after that I made any kind of reputation.”
+
+Margaret Adams leaned over and put both hands on Polly’s thin shoulders.
+
+“Don’t you see, dear, how silly, how almost wicked you will be if you
+run away from the opportunity I am able to give you. I never had any one
+to help me. It was all nothing but hard, wearing work and few friends,
+with almost no encouragement.”
+
+“I see, Margaret,” Polly returned gravely. Then, getting up, she sat for
+a few moments on the arm of her friend’s chair. “Yet I must give up the
+chance you have given me just the same, dear, and I must go away from
+New York tomorrow. I can’t tell you why I am going or where because I am
+afraid you might dissuade me. Oh, I suppose it is foolish, even mad, of
+me, but I would not be myself if I were reasonable, and I am doing what
+seems wisest to me. I have written to mother and made her understand and
+to Sylvia because she almost forced me into promising her that I would
+keep her informed this winter where I was and what I was doing. I am not
+confiding in any one else in the whole world. But if you think I am
+ungrateful, Margaret, you think the very wrongest thing in the whole
+world and I’ll prove it to you one day, no matter what it costs. The
+most dreadful part is that I am not going to be able to see you for a
+long time. That is the hardest thing. You will never know what you have
+meant to me in these last few years when I have been away from home and
+my old friends. But I believe you are lonely too, dear, now and then in
+spite of your reputation and money and all the people who would like to
+know you.” Polly got up now and began walking restlessly about the room,
+not knowing how to say anything more without betraying her secret.
+
+She glanced at the photograph of Richard Hunt.
+
+“Are you and Mr. Hunt very special friends, Margaret?” Polly asked, an
+idea having suddenly come into her mind. “I think he is half as nice as
+you are and that is saying a great deal.”
+
+For a perceptible moment Margaret Adams did not reply and then she
+seemed to hesitate, perhaps thinking of something else. “Yes, we have
+been friends for a number of years, sometimes intimate ones, sometimes
+not,” she returned finally. “But I don’t want to talk about Mr. Hunt. I
+still want to be told what mad thing Polly O’Neill is planning to do
+next.”
+
+“And if she can’t tell you?” Polly pleaded.
+
+“Then I suppose I will have to forgive her, because friendship without
+faith is of very little value.”
+
+And at this instant Margaret Adams’ maid came in to announce luncheon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V—Other Girls
+
+
+
+“No, I am not in the least unhappy or discontented either, Esther; I
+don’t know how you can say such a thing,” Betty Ashton answered
+argumentatively. “You talk as though I did not like living here with you
+and Dick. You know perfectly well I might have gone south with mother
+for the winter if I had not a thousand times preferred staying with
+you.” Yet as she finished her speech, quite unconsciously Betty sighed.
+
+She and Esther were standing in a pretty living room that held a grand
+piano, shelves of books, a desk and reading table; indeed, a room that
+served all purposes except that of sleeping and dining. For Dick and
+Esther had taken a small house on the outskirts of Boston and were
+beginning their married life together as simply as possible, until Dr.
+Ashton should make a name and fame for himself.
+
+Esther was now dressed for going out in a dark brown suit and hat with
+mink furs and a muff. Happiness and the fulfilling of her dreams had
+given her a beauty and dignity which her girlhood had not held. She was
+larger and had a soft, healthy color. With the becoming costumes which
+Betty now helped her select her red hair had become a beauty rather than
+a disfigurement and the content in her eyes gave them more color and
+depth, while about her always beautiful mouth the lines were so cheerful
+and serene that strangers often paused to look at her the second time
+and then went their way with a new sense of encouragement.
+
+Betty had no thought of going out, although it was a brilliant December
+day. She had on a blue cashmere house dress and her hair was loosely
+tucked up on her head in a confusion of half-tangled curls. She had
+evidently been dusting, for she still held a dusting cloth in her hand.
+Her manner was listless and uninterested, and she was pale and frowning
+a little. Her gayety and vitality, temporarily at least, were playing
+truant.
+
+“Still I know perfectly well, Betty dear, that you came to be with Dick
+and me this winter not only because you wanted to come, but because you
+knew your board would help us along while Dick is getting his start. So
+it is perfectly natural that you should be lonely and miss your old
+friends in Woodford. Of course, Meg isn’t far away here at Radcliffe,
+but she is so busy with Harvard students as well as getting her degree
+that you don’t see much of each other. Suppose you come now and take a
+walk with me, or else you ride with Dick and I’ll go on the street car.
+I am only going to church for a rehearsal. You know I am to sing a solo
+on Sunday,” Esther continued in a persuasive tone.
+
+“Yes, and of course Dick would so much prefer taking his sister to ride
+than taking his wife,” the other girl returned rather pettishly,
+abstractedly rubbing the surface of the mahogany table which already
+shone with much polishing.
+
+Esther shook her head. “Well, even though you won’t confess it,
+something is the matter with you, Betty. You have not been a bit like
+yourself since you were in Woodford last fall. Something must have
+happened there. I don’t wish your confidence unless you desire to give
+it me. But even while we were in New York, you were cold and stiff and
+unlike yourself, especially to Anthony Graham, and I thought you used to
+be such good friends.”
+
+There was no lack of color now in Betty Ashton’s face, although she
+still kept her back turned to her older sister.
+
+“We are not special friends any longer,” she returned coldly, “though I
+have nothing in the world against Anthony. Of course, I consider that he
+is rather spoiled by his political success, being elected to the
+Legislature when he is so young, but then that is not my affair.” Betty
+now turned her face toward her sister. “I suppose I need something to
+do—that is really what is the matter with me, Esther dear. Lately I have
+been thinking that I am the only one of the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire
+girls who amounts to nothing. And I wanted so much to be loyal to our
+old ideals. There is Meg at college, Sylvia and Nan both studying
+professions, Edith married and Eleanor about to be. You have Dick, your
+music and your house, Mollie is relieving her mother of the
+responsibility of their big establishment and even little Faith had a
+poem published in a magazine last week. It is hard to be the only
+failure. Then of course there is Polly!”
+
+“Never a word from her in all this time?”
+
+“Not a line since the note I received from her last October asking me
+not to be angry if I did not hear from her in a long time. No one has
+the faintest idea what has become of her—none of her friends, not even
+Mollie knows. I suppose she is all right though, because her mother is
+satisfied about her. Yet I can’t help wondering and feeling worried.
+What on earth could have induced Polly O’Neill to give up her splendid
+chance with Miss Adams, a chance she has been working and waiting for
+these two years?” Betty shrugged her shoulders. “It is stupid of me to
+be asking such questions. No one yet has ever found the answer to the
+riddle of Polly O’Neill. Perhaps that is why she is so fascinating. I
+always do and say exactly what people expect, so no wonder I am
+uninteresting. But there, run along, Esther, I hear Dick whistling for
+you. Don’t make him late. Perhaps I’ll get over having ‘the dumps’ while
+you are away.”
+
+Esther started toward the door. “If only I could think of something that
+would interest or amuse you! I can’t get hold of Polly to cheer you up,
+but I shall write Mrs. Wharton this very evening and ask her to let
+Mollie come and spend Christmas with us. I believe Dick has already
+asked Anthony Graham. You won’t mind, will you, Betty? We wanted to have
+as many old friends as possible in our new house.”
+
+Once again Betty flushed uncomfortably, although she answered carelessly
+enough. “Certainly I don’t mind. Why should I? Now do run along. Perhaps
+I’ll make you and Dick a cake while you are gone. An old maid needs to
+have useful accomplishments.”
+
+Esther laughed. “An old maid at twenty-one! Well, farewell, Spinster
+Princess. I know you are a better cook and housekeeper than I am.” In
+answer to her husband’s more impatient whistling Esther fled out of the
+room, though still vaguely troubled. Betty was not in good spirits, yet
+what could be the matter with her? Of course, she missed the stimulus of
+Polly’s society; however, that in itself was not a sufficient
+explanation. What could have happened between Betty and Anthony?
+Actually, there had been a time when Dick had feared that they might
+care seriously for each other. Thank goodness, that was a mistake!
+
+Left alone Betty slowly drew out a letter from inside her blue gown. It
+had previously been opened; but she read it for the second time. Then,
+lighting a tall candle on the mantel, she placed the letter in the
+flame, watching it burn until finally the charred scraps were thrown
+aside.
+
+Betty had evidently changed her mind in regard to her promise to her
+sister. For instead of going into the kitchen a very little while later
+she came downstairs dressed for the street. Opening the front door, she
+went out into the winter sunshine and started walking as rapidly as
+possible in the direction of one of the poorer quarters of the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI—The Fire-Maker’s Desire
+
+
+Outside the window of a small florist’s shop Betty paused for an
+instant. Then she stepped in and a little later came out carrying half a
+dozen red roses and a bunch of holly and fragrant cedar. Curiously
+enough, her expression in this short time had changed. Perhaps the
+flowers gave the added color to her face. She was repeating something
+over to herself and half smiling; but, as there were no people on the
+street except a few dirty children who were playing cheerfully in the
+gutter, no one observed her eccentric behavior.
+
+[Illustration: She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar]
+
+  “As fuel is brought to the fire
+  So I purpose to bring
+  My strength,
+  My ambition,
+  My heart’s desire,
+  My joy
+  And my sorrow
+  To the fire
+  Of humankind.
+  For I will tend,
+  As my fathers have tended,
+  And my father’s fathers,
+  Since time began,
+  The fire that is called
+  The love of man for man,
+  The love of man for God.”
+
+Betty’s delicate, eyebrows were drawn so close together that they
+appeared almost heart shaped. “I fear I have only been tending the love
+of a girl for herself these past few months, so perhaps it is just as
+well that I should try to reform,” she thought half whimsically and yet
+with reproach. “Anyhow, I shall telephone Meg Everett this very
+afternoon, though I am glad Esther does not know the reason Meg and I
+have been seeing so little of each other lately, and that the fault is
+mine, not hers.”
+
+By this time the girl had arrived in front of a large, dull, brown-stone
+building in the middle of a dingy street, with a subdued hush about it.
+Above the broad entrance hung a sign, “Home For Crippled Children.” Here
+for a moment Betty Ashton’s courage seemed to waver, for she paused
+irresolutely, but a little later she entered the hall. A week before she
+had promised an acquaintance at the church where Esther was singing to
+come to the children’s hospital some day and amuse them by telling
+stories. Since she had not thought seriously of her promise, although
+intending to fulfill it when she had discovered stories worth the
+telling. This morning while worrying over her own affair it had occurred
+to her that the best thing she could do was to do something for some one
+else. Hence the visit to the hospital.
+
+Yet here at the moment of her arrival Betty had not the faintest idea of
+what she could do or say to make herself acceptable as a visitor. She
+had a peculiar antipathy to being regarded as a conventional
+philanthropist, one of the individuals with the instinct to patronize
+persons less fortunate.
+
+Long ago when through her wealth and sympathy Betty had been able to do
+helpful things for her acquaintances, always she had felt the same
+shrinking sense of embarrassment, disliking to be thanked for
+kindnesses. Yet actually in his last letter Anthony Graham had dared
+remind her of their first meeting, an occasion she wished forgotten
+between them both.
+
+The matron of the children’s hospital had been sent for and a little
+later she was conducting Betty down a broad, bare hall and then ushering
+her into a big sunlit room, not half so cheerless as its visitor had
+anticipated.
+
+There were two large French windows on the southern side and a table
+piled with books and magazines. Near one of these windows two girls were
+seated in rolling chairs reading. They must have been about fourteen
+years old and did not look particularly frail. Across from them were
+four other girls, perhaps a year or so younger, engaged in a game of
+parchesi. On the floor in the corner a pretty little girl was sewing on
+her doll clothes and another was hopping merrily about on her crutches,
+interfering with every one else. Only two of the cot beds in the room
+were occupied, and to these Betty’s eyes turned instinctively. In one
+she saw a happy little German maiden with yellow hair and pale pink
+cheeks propped up on pillows, busily assorting half a dozen colors of
+crochet cotton. In the other a figure was lying flat with the eyes
+staring at the ceiling. And at the first glance there was merely an
+effect of some one indescribably thin with a quantity of short, curly
+dark hair spread out on the white pillow.
+
+The matron introduced Betty, told her errand, and then went swiftly
+away, leaving her to do the rest for herself, and the rest appeared
+exceedingly difficult. The older girls who were reading closed their
+books politely and bowed. Yet it was self-evident that they would have
+preferred going on with their books to hearing anything their visitor
+might have to tell. Among the parchesi players there was a hurried
+consultation and then one of them looked up. “We will be through with
+our game in a few moments,” she explained with a note of interrogation
+in her voice.
+
+“Oh, please don’t stop on my account,” the newcomer said hastily.
+
+On the big table Betty put down her roses and evergreens, not liking to
+present them with any formality under the circumstances. She could see
+that the little girl who was sewing in the corner was smiling a welcome
+to her and that the little German Mädchen in bed was pleased with her
+winter bouquet. For she had whispered, “Schön, wunderschön,” and stopped
+assorting her crochet work. Then the child on crutches came across the
+floor, and picking up one of the roses placed it on the pillow by the
+dark-eyed girl, who showed not the least sign of having noticed the
+attention.
+
+“She will look at it in a moment if she thinks we are not watching her,”
+explained Betty’s one friendly confidant, motioning to a chair to
+suggest that their visitor might sit down if she wished.
+
+It was an extremely awkward situation. Betty sat down. She had come to
+make a call at a place where her society was not desired and though they
+were only children, and she a grown woman, still she had no right to
+intrude upon their privacy. She found herself blushing furiously.
+Besides, what story had she to tell that would be of sufficient interest
+to hold their attention? Had she not thought of at least a dozen, only
+to discard them all as unsuitable?
+
+“I believe you were going to entertain us, I suppose with a fairy
+story,” began one of the girls, still keeping her finger between the
+covers of Little Women. It was hard luck to be torn away from that
+delightful love scene between Laurie and Jo to hear some silly tale of
+princes and princesses and probably a golden apple when one was fourteen
+years old. However, this morning’s visitor was so pretty it was a
+pleasure to look at her. Besides, she had on lovely clothes and was
+dreadfully embarrassed. Moreover, she was sitting quite still and
+helpless instead of poking about, asking tiresome questions as most
+visitors did. One could not avoid feeling a little sorry for her instead
+of having to receive her pity.
+
+Both wheeled chairs were now rolled over alongside Betty and Little
+Women was closed and laid on the table. The next instant the parchesi
+game was finished and the four players glanced with greater interest at
+their guest. The girl who had been dancing about on her crutches hopped
+up on the table.
+
+“I am ‘Cricket’ not on the hearth, but on the table at this moment,” she
+confided gayly; “at least, that is what the girls here call me and it is
+as good a name as any other. Now won’t you tell us your name?”
+
+“Betty Ashton,” the visitor answered, still feeling ill at ease and
+angry and disgusted with herself for not knowing how to make the best of
+the situation. Yet she need no longer have worried. For there was some
+silent, almost indescribable influence at work in the little company
+until almost irresistibly most of its occupants felt themselves drawn
+toward the newcomer. Of course, Polly O’Neill would have described this
+influence as the Princess’ charm and that is as good an explanation as
+any other. But I think it was Betty Ashton’s ability to put herself in
+other people’s places, to think and feel and understand for them and
+with them. Now she knew that these eight girls, poor and ill though they
+might be, did not want either her pity or her patronage.
+
+“Well, fire away with your tale, Miss Ashton,” suggested Cricket
+somewhat impatiently, “and don’t make it too goody-goody if you can help
+it. Most of us are anxious to hear.” Cricket had pretty gray eyes and a
+great deal of fluffy brown hair, but otherwise the face was plain,
+except for its clever, good-natured expression. She gave a sudden side
+glance toward the figure on the bed only a dozen feet away and Betty’s
+glance followed hers.
+
+She saw that the red rose had been taken off the pillow and that the
+eyes that had been staring at the ceiling were gazing toward her.
+However, their look was anything but friendly.
+
+For some foolish, unexplainable reason the girl made Betty think of
+Polly. Yet this child’s eyes were black instead of blue, her hair short
+and curly instead of long and dark. And though Polly had often been
+impatient and dissatisfied, thank heaven she had never had that
+expression of sullen anger and of something else that Betty could not
+yet understand.
+
+For Betty had of course to turn again toward her auditors and smile an
+entirely friendly and charming smile.
+
+“May I take off my hat first? It may help me to think,” she said. Then
+when Cricket had helped her remove both her coat and hat she sat down
+again and sighed.
+
+“Do you know I have come here under absolutely false pretences? I
+announced that I had a story to tell, but I simply can’t think of
+anything that would entertain you in the least and I should so hate to
+be a bore.”
+
+Then in spite of her twenty-one years, Betty Ashton seemed as young as
+any girl in the room. Moreover, she was exquisitely pretty. Her auburn
+hair, now neatly coiled, shone gold from the light behind her. Her
+cheeks were almost too flushed and every now and then her dark lashes
+drooped, shading the frank friendliness of her gray eyes. She wore a
+walking skirt, beautifully tailored, and a soft white silk blouse with a
+knot of her same favorite blue velvet pinned at her throat with her
+torch-bearer’s pin.
+
+Agnes Edgerton, the former reader of Little Women, made no effort to
+conceal her admiration. “Oh, don’t tell us a story,” she protested, “we
+read such a lot of books. Tell us something about yourself. Real people
+are so much more interesting.”
+
+“But there isn’t anything very interesting about me, I am far too
+ordinary a person,” Betty returned. Then she glanced almost desperately
+about the big room. There was a mantel and a fireplace, but no fire, as
+the room was warmed with steam radiators. However, on the mantel stood
+three brass candlesticks holding three white candles and these may have
+been the source of Betty’s inspiration.
+
+Outside the smoky chimney tops of old Boston houses and factories reared
+their heads against the winter sky, and yet Betty began her story
+telling with the question: “I wonder if you would like me to tell you of
+a summer twelve girls spent together at Sunrise Hill?” For in the glory
+of the early morning, with the Camp Fire cabin at its base, Sunrise Hill
+had suddenly flashed before her eyes like a welcome vision.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII—“The Flames in the Wind”
+
+
+When an hour later Betty Ashton finished her story of the first years of
+the Camp Fire girls at Sunrise Hill on the table nearby three candles
+were burning and about them was a circle of eager faces.
+
+Moreover, from the cedar which Betty had bought as a part of her winter
+bouquet a miniature tree had been built as the eternal Camp Fire emblem
+and there also were the emblems of the wood gatherer, fire maker and
+torch bearer constructed from odd sticks which Cricket had mysteriously
+produced in the interval of the story telling.
+
+“That is the most delightful experience that I ever heard of girls
+having, a whole year out of doors with a chance to do nice things for
+yourself, a fairy story that was really true,” Cricket sighed finally.
+“Funny, but I never heard of a Camp Fire club and I have never been to
+the country.”
+
+“You have never been to the country?” Betty repeated her words slowly,
+staring first at Cricket and then at the other girls. No one else seemed
+surprised by the remark.
+
+In answer the younger girl flushed. “I told you I had not,” she repeated
+in a slightly sarcastic tone. “But please don’t look as if the world had
+come to an end. Lots of poor people don’t do much traveling and we have
+five children in the family besides me. Of course, I couldn’t go on
+school picnics and Sunday-school excursions like the others.” Here an
+annoyed, disappointed expression crept into Cricket’s eyes and she grew
+less cheerful.
+
+“Please don’t spoil our nice morning together, Miss Ashton, by beginning
+to pity me. I hate people who are sorry for themselves. That is the
+reason we girls have liked you so much, you have been so different from
+the others.”
+
+Quietly Betty began putting on her wraps. She had been watching
+Cricket’s face all the time she had been talking of Sunrise Hill, of the
+grove of pine trees and the lake. Yet if the thought had leapt into her
+mind that she would like to show her new acquaintance something more
+beautiful than the chimney tops of Boston, it was now plain that she
+must wait until they were better friends.
+
+“But you’ll come again soon and tell us more?” Cricket next asked,
+picking up their visitor’s muff and pressing it close to her face with
+something like a caress. Then more softly, “I did not mean to be rude.”
+
+Betty nodded. “Of course I’ll come if you wish me. You see, I am a
+stranger in Boston and lonely. But I’ll never have anything half so
+interesting to tell you as the history of our club with such girls as
+Polly O’Neill, Esther and Meg and the rest for heroines. Nothing in my
+whole life has ever been such fun. Do you know I was wondering——”
+
+Here a slight noise from the figure on the cot near them for an instant
+distracted Betty’s attention. Yet glancing in that direction, there
+seemed to have been no movement. Not for a single moment did she believe
+the little girl had been listening to a word she was saying. For she had
+never caught another glance straying in her direction.
+
+“You were wondering what?” Agnes Edgerton demanded a little impatiently
+and Betty thought she saw the same expression on all the faces about
+her.
+
+“Wondering if you would like my sister, Esther, to come and sing our old
+Camp Fire songs to you some day?” This time there was no mistaking it.
+Her audience did look disappointed. “And wondering something else, only
+perhaps I had best wait, you may not think it would be fun, or perhaps
+it might be too much work—” Betty’s face was flushed, again she seemed
+very little older than the other girls about her.
+
+“Yes, we would,” Agnes Edgerton answered gravely, having by this time
+quite forgotten the interruption of Little Women in her new interest. “I
+know what you mean, because almost from the start I have been wondering
+the same thing. Do you think we girls could start a Camp Fire club here
+among ourselves, if you would show us how? Why, it would make everything
+so much easier and happier. There are some of the Camp Fire things we
+could not do, of course, but the greater part of them——”
+
+Here, with a sudden exclamation of pleasure, Cricket bounced off her
+perch on the table and began dancing about in a fashion which showed how
+she had earned her name.
+
+“Hurrah for the Shut-In Camp Fire Girls and the fairy princess who
+brought us the idea!” she exclaimed. Then, surveying Betty more
+critically, “You know you do look rather like a princess. Are you one in
+disguise?”
+
+Betty laughed. She had not felt so cheerful in months. For with Agnes
+and Cricket on her side, the thought that had slowly been growing in her
+mind would surely bear fruit. But how strangely her old title sounded!
+How it did bring back the past Camp Fire days!
+
+“No,” she returned, “I am not a princess or anything in the least like
+one. But we can all have new names in our Camp Fire club if we like,
+select any character or idea we choose and try to live up to it. Next
+time I come I will try and explain things better and bring you our
+manual. Now I really must hurry.”
+
+Betty Ashton was moving quickly toward the door, accompanied by Cricket,
+when a hand reached suddenly out from the side of a bed clutching at her
+skirt.
+
+“I would rather have that Polly girl come the next time instead of you;
+I am sure I should like her much better,” the voice said with a
+decidedly foreign accent. Then Betty looked quickly into the pair of
+black eyes that had been so relentlessly fixed upon the ceiling.
+
+“I don’t wonder you would rather have the Polly girl instead of me,” she
+returned smiling; “most people would, and perhaps you may see her some
+day if I can find her. Only I don’t know where she is just at present.”
+
+So this strange child had been listening to her story-telling after all.
+Curious that her fancy had lighted upon Polly, but perhaps the name
+carried its own magic.
+
+Out in the hall Betty whispered to her companion:
+
+“Tell me that little girl’s name, won’t you, Cricket? I didn’t dare ask
+her. What a strange little thing she is, and yet she makes me think of
+an old friend. Already I believe she has taken a dislike to me.”
+
+The other girl shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t be flattered, she dislikes
+everybody and won’t have anything to do with the rest of us if she can
+help it. Yet her name is Angelique, that is all we know. ‘The Angel’ we
+call her when we wish to make her particularly furious. She is French,
+and we believe an orphan, because no one comes to see her, though she
+has letters now and then, which she hides under her pillow,” Cricket
+concluded almost spitefully, since curiosity was one of her leading
+traits.
+
+On her way back home, oddly enough, Betty found her attention divided
+between two subjects. The first was natural enough; she was greatly
+pleased with her morning’s experience. Perhaps, if she could interest
+her new acquaintances in forming a Camp Fire, her winter need not be an
+altogether unhappy and dissatisfied one.
+
+There had been a definite reason for her leaving Woodford, which she
+hoped was known to no one but herself. It had been making her very
+unhappy, but now she intended rising above it if possible. Of course,
+work in which she felt an interest was the best possible cure; there was
+no use in preaching such a transparent philosophy as Esther had earlier
+in the day. But she had no inclination toward pursuing a definite career
+such as Sylvia, Nan and Polly had chosen. The money Judge Maynard had
+left her relieved her from this necessity. But the name of Polly
+immediately set her thinking along the second direction. What was it in
+the unfortunate child at the hospital that had brought Polly so forcibly
+before her mind? There was no definite resemblance between them, only a
+line here and there in the face or a slight movement. Could Polly even
+be conscious of the girl’s existence? For Betty felt that there were
+many unexplainable forms of mental telegraphy by which one might
+communicate a thought to a friend closely in sympathy with one’s own
+nature.
+
+But by this time, as she was within a few feet of Esther’s and Dick’s
+home, Betty smiled to herself. She had merely become interested in this
+particular child because she seemed more unfortunate and less content
+than the others and she meant to do what she could to help her, no
+matter what her personal attitude might be. As for Polly’s influence in
+the matter, it of course amounted to nothing. Was she not always
+wondering what had become of her best-loved friend and hoping she might
+soon be taken into her confidence?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII—Afternoon Tea and a Mystery
+
+
+Ten days later, returning from another of her now regular visits to the
+hospital, Betty Ashton was surprised by hearing voices inside the living
+room just as she was passing the closed door. Possibly Esther had
+invited some of their new acquaintances in to tea and had forgotten to
+mention it. Now she could hear her own name being called.
+
+Her hair had been blown in every direction by the east wind and she had
+been sitting on the floor at the hospital, building a camp fire in the
+old chimney place, with the grate removed, according to the most
+approved camping methods. Straightening her hat and rubbing her face for
+an instant with her handkerchief, Betty made a casual entrance into the
+room, trying to assume an agreeable society manner to make up for her
+other deficiencies.
+
+It was five o’clock and growing dark, although as yet the lights were
+not on. Esther was sitting at a little round wicker table pouring tea
+and Meg, who had evidently lately arrived, was standing near waiting to
+receive her cup. But in the largest chair in the room with her back
+turned to the opening door was a figure that made Betty’s heart behave
+in the most extraordinary fashion. The hair was so black, the figure so
+graceful that for the moment it seemed it could only be one
+person—Polly! Betty’s welcome was no less spontaneous, however, when
+Mollie O’Neill, jumping up, ran quickly toward her.
+
+“No, I am not Polly, Betty dear! I only wish I were, for then we should
+at least know what had become of her. But Esther has asked me to spend
+Christmas with you and I hope you are half as glad to see me as I am to
+be with you.”
+
+Half an hour later, Esther having disappeared to see about dinner as Meg
+was also to remain for the night, the three old friends dropped down on
+sofa cushions before the fire, Camp Fire fashion, and with the tea pot
+between them began talking all at the same time.
+
+“Do, do tell me everything about Woodford,” Betty demanded. “I never
+shall love any place half so well as my native town and I have not heard
+a word except through letters, for ages.”
+
+Ceasing her own questioning of Meg in regard to the pleasures of college
+life, Mollie at once turned her serious blue eyes upon her other friend.
+“Haven’t heard of Woodford, Betty!” she exclaimed, “what on earth do you
+mean? Then what do you and Anthony Graham talk about when he comes to
+Boston? I know he has been here twice lately, because he told me so
+himself and said you were well.”
+
+Suddenly in Esther’s pretty sitting room all conversation abruptly ended
+and only the ticking of the clock could be heard. Fortunately the room
+was still in shadow, for unexpectedly Meg’s cheeks had turned scarlet,
+as she glanced toward the window with a perfectly unnecessary expression
+of unconcern. But Betty did not change color nor did her gray eyes
+falter for an instant from those of her friend. Yet before she received
+her answer Mollie was conscious that she must in some fashion have said
+the wrong thing.
+
+Yet what could have been the fault with her question? It was a perfectly
+natural one, as Betty and Anthony had always been extremely intimate in
+the old days, ever since Anthony had lived for a year at Mrs. Ashton’s
+house. Mollie appreciated the change in the atmosphere, the coldness and
+restraint that had not been there before. Naturally she would have
+preferred to change the subject before receiving a reply, but she had
+not the quickness and adaptability of many girls, perhaps because she
+was too simple and sincere herself.
+
+“Anthony Graham does not come to see me—us, Mollie,” Betty corrected
+herself, “when he makes his visits to Boston these days. You see he is
+now Meg’s friend more than mine. But you must remember, Mollie dear,
+that Meg has always had more admirers than the rest of us and now she is
+a full-fledged college girl, of course she is irresistible.”
+
+Betty Ashton spoke without the least suggestion of anger or envy and yet
+Meg turned reproachfully toward her. Her usually gay and friendly
+expression had certainly changed, she seemed embarrassed and annoyed.
+
+“You know that isn’t true, Princess, and never has been,” Meg returned,
+rumpling her pretty yellow hair as she always did in any kind of
+perplexity or distress. “I never have even dreamed of being so charming
+as you are. You know that John has always said——”
+
+Alas, if only Polly O’Neill had been present Mollie might in some
+fashion have been persuaded not to speak at this unlucky instant! But
+Polly had always cruelly called her an “enfant terrible.” Now Mollie was
+too puzzled to appreciate the situation and so determined to get at the
+bottom of it.
+
+“But does Anthony come to see you and not Betty?” Mollie demanded
+inexorably of the embarrassed girl.
+
+Meg nodded. “Yes, but it is only because Betty——”
+
+“Please don’t try to offer any explanation, Meg, I would rather you
+would not. It is most unnecessary,” Betty now interrupted gently, in a
+tone that few persons in her life had ever opposed. Then, reaching over,
+she began pouring out fresh cups of tea for her friends. “You need not
+worry, Mollie, Anthony and I are perfectly good friends. We have not
+quarreled, only he has not so much time these days now he is getting to
+be such a distinguished person. But do tell me whether you have the
+faintest idea of what Polly O’Neill is doing, or where she is, or a
+single solitary thing about her?”
+
+Always Mollie’s attention could be distracted by any mention of her
+sister’s name and it may be that Betty was counting upon this. For Meg
+had gotten up and strolled over toward the window, leaving the two other
+girls comparatively alone.
+
+Bluer and more serious than ever grew Mollie’s big, innocent eyes.
+
+“Polly is well, or at least says she is. That much mother confides in
+me,” Mollie replied soberly. “But where Polly is or what she is doing I
+have no more idea than you have, not so much perhaps. You were always
+better at understanding her than I have ever been. But then even Miss
+Adams has never heard a line from Polly since she told her good-by in
+New York several months ago. By the way, Betty, Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt
+are going to be playing here in Boston during the holidays. Won’t you
+and Esther ask them to your Christmas dinner party?”
+
+Betty at this moment got up from the floor. “Yes, I have seen the
+notices of their coming and I am glad. We can have an almost home
+Christmas, can’t we?” Then she walked over toward the window where Meg
+had continued standing, gazing with no special interest out into the
+street. The high wind was still blowing and with it occasional flurries
+of wet snow.
+
+“Do let us draw down the blinds, Meg, it is getting late and is not very
+cheerful outside.” With apparent unconsciousness Betty slipped an arm
+about her friend’s waist and for another instant they both stared out
+into the almost deserted street.
+
+Across on the farther sidewalk some one was standing, as though waiting
+for a companion. Meg had seen the person before but with no special
+attention. She was too deeply engaged with her own thoughts. Betty was
+differently influenced, for the figure had an oddly pathetic and lonely
+attitude. She could not see the face and the moment she began closing
+the living-room curtain the figure walked away.
+
+Meg chose this same instant for giving her friend a sudden ardent
+embrace and Betty’s attention would in any case have been distracted.
+
+With the lights under the rose-colored shades now glowing, and Mollie
+asking no more embarrassing questions, the atmosphere of the living room
+soon grew cheerful again. For Mollie had a great deal of Woodford news
+to tell. Eleanor Meade was getting a beautiful trousseau for her
+marriage with Frank Wharton in the spring and she and Mollie had been
+sewing together almost every day. Eleanor had given up her old ambition
+to become a celebrated artist and was using her taste for color and
+design in the preparation of her clothes. Frank was in business with his
+father and would have a good deal of money, and although Eleanor’s
+family was poor she did not intend to have less in her trousseau than
+other girls. Her own skill and work should make up for it.
+
+Billy Webster was succeeding better each month with the management of
+his farm since his father’s death. Now and then Mollie went to call on
+Mrs. Webster and not long ago she and Billy had walked out to Sunrise
+cabin. The little house was in excellent condition, although no one had
+lived in it for several years.
+
+“It is wonderfully kind,” Mollie explained, “but Billy has his own men
+look after our cabin and make any repairs that are necessary. He even
+keeps the grass cut and the weeds cleared from about the place, so any
+one of us could go out there to live with only a few hours preparation,”
+she ended with her usual happy smile.
+
+For Mollie O’Neill was not self-conscious and did not guess for a moment
+that while she talked both Betty and Meg were engaged with the same
+thought. Was there still nothing more between Mollie and Billy than
+simple friendliness? Once they had believed that there might be
+something, but now the time was passing and they were both free, Mollie
+at home helping her mother with the house, Billy the head of his own
+farm, and yet nothing had happened. Well, possibly nothing ever would
+and they might always simply remain friends, until one or the other
+married some one else.
+
+Suddenly Mollie started and her color faded.
+
+“I am awfully sorry, Betty, I know how silly and nervous you and Polly
+used always to think me, but look, please!” She spoke under her breath
+and pointed toward the closed blind.
+
+There, sharply defined, was the shadow of a head apparently straining to
+see inside the room. It had the effect of a gray silhouette.
+
+The two other girls also changed color, for the effect was uncanny. Then
+Betty laughed somewhat nervously.
+
+“It must be Dick, of course, trying to frighten us, but how silly and
+unlike him!” She then walked as quickly and quietly toward the window as
+possible and without a sign or word of warning drew up the curtain. Some
+one must have instantly jumped backward, for by the time Mollie and Meg
+had also reached the window they could only catch the outline of a
+disappearing figure. It was not possible in the darkness to decide
+whether it was a girl or a young boy.
+
+“Well, it wasn’t Dick anyhow,” said Betty finally; “probably some child.
+However it might be just as well to go and tell Dick and Esther. They
+would not enjoy a sneak thief carrying off their pretty wedding
+presents. And besides it is time for us to get ready for dinner and I
+haven’t yet had time to tell you about my new Camp Fire.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX—Preparations
+
+
+A few mornings afterwards a letter was handed to Betty Ashton at the
+breakfast table, bearing a type-written address. Carelessly opening it
+under the impression that it must be a printed circular she found three
+lines, also type-written, on a sheet of paper and with no signature. It
+read:
+
+“Show whatever kindness is possible to the little French girl,
+Angelique, at the hospital. Pardon her peculiarities and oblige a
+friend.”
+
+Without a comment Betty immediately passed the letter to Mollie O’Neill,
+who then gave it to Esther. Esther turned it over to Dr. Ashton, who
+frowned and straightway ceased eating his breakfast.
+
+“I don’t like anonymous letters, Betty, even if they seem to be
+perfectly harmless and have the best intentions. Besides, who knows of
+your going to the hospital except our few intimate friends? I wonder if
+this queer child you have spoken of could be responsible for this letter
+herself. One never knows!”
+
+Rather irritably Betty shook her head. “What an absurd supposition,
+Dick. In the first place the child dislikes me so that she will scarcely
+speak to me while I am at the hospital. She seems to like Mollie a great
+deal better. Moreover, she is the only one of the group of girls I made
+friends with who still refuses to come into our Camp Fire. If she wished
+my friendship she might at least begin by being civil.”
+
+Always as in former days Esther was quick to interpose between any
+chance of a heated argument between Dick and his sister. Understanding
+this they both usually laughed at her efforts. For as long as they lived
+Dick would scold Betty when he believed her in the wrong, while she
+would protest and then follow his advice or discard it as seemed wisest.
+
+“But, Betty dear, don’t you consider that there is a possibility that
+this Angelique may have spoken to some relative or friend of your visits
+to the hospital, who has written you this letter in consequence. You
+see, they may think of you as very wealthy,” Esther now suggested.
+
+But before Betty could reply, Mollie O’Neill, who during the moment’s
+discussion had been thinking the question over quietly, turned her eyes
+on her friend.
+
+“Have you any idea who has written you, Betty?” she queried.
+
+For no explainable reason Betty flushed. Then with entire honesty she
+answered, “Of course not.” Surely the idea that had come into her mind
+was too absurd to give serious consideration.
+
+“By the way, I wonder what I could be expected to do for Angelique?”
+Betty inquired the next instant, showing that her letter had not failed
+to make an impression, no matter if it were anonymous. “She has the best
+kind of care at the hospital; only she seems desperately unhappy over
+something and won’t tell any one what it is. I know, of course, that she
+is ill, but the matron tells me she is not suffering and the other girls
+seem quite different. They are as brave and gay as if there were nothing
+the matter. Cricket is the best sport I ever knew.”
+
+Dr. Ashton got up from the table, leaning over to kiss Esther good-by.
+
+“Well, don’t do anything rash, Lady Bountiful,” he protested to Betty.
+“Who knows but you may decide to adopt the little French girl before the
+day is over just because of a mysterious letter. I must confess I am
+extremely glad Judge Maynard’s will only permits you to spend your
+income or you would keep things lively for all of us. I’ve an idea that
+it must have been Anthony Graham who put Judge Maynard up to making that
+kind of will. He must have remembered how you insisted on thrusting your
+money upon him at your first meeting and wished to save you from other
+impostors.”
+
+Dick was laughing and it was perfectly self-evident that he was only
+saying what he had to tease his sister. For surely the Princess’
+generosities had been a joke among her family and friends ever since she
+was a little girl. And she was still in the habit of rescuing every
+forlorn person she saw, often with somewhat disastrous results to
+herself.
+
+Betty jumped up quickly from her place at the table, her face suddenly
+grown white and her lips trembling.
+
+“I won’t have you say things like that to me, Dick,” she returned
+angrily. “Anthony Graham had nothing in the world to do with the money
+Judge Maynard gave me, he has told you a hundred times he had not. But
+just the same I won’t have you call him an impostor. Just because you
+don’t approve of me is no reason why you should——” But finding her voice
+no longer steady Betty started hastily for the door, only to feel her
+brother’s arms about her holding her so close she could not move while
+he stared closely at her downcast face.
+
+“What is the matter, Betty?” he asked quite seriously now. “It isn’t in
+the least like you to get into a temper over nothing. You know perfectly
+well that while all of us may reproach you for being so generous we
+would not have you different for anything in the world. As for my
+thinking Anthony Graham an impostor, the thing is too absurd for any
+comment. You know he is my friend and one of the cleverest fellows in
+New Hampshire. Some day he will be a Senator at Washington, but I don’t
+think he’ll mind even then remembering who gave him his start. When he
+comes here at Christmas I mean to ask him and to tell him you thought it
+necessary to defend him against me.”
+
+But by this time Betty had managed to pull herself away from Dick’s
+clasp. “If you speak my name to him I shall never forgive you as long as
+I live,” she announced and this time managed to escape from the room.
+
+Utterly mystified Dick Ashton gazed at his wife.
+
+“What on earth!” he began helplessly. And Esther nodded at Mollie.
+
+“Won’t you find Betty?” she asked.
+
+Mollie had already risen, but she did not go at once in search of her
+friend, for although Mollie O’Neill may not have had as much imagination
+as certain other girls she had a sympathy that perhaps served even
+better.
+
+Out into the hall Esther followed her husband, and after helping him
+into his overcoat she stood for an instant with her hand resting on his
+shoulder. In spite of the change in her circumstances and in spite of
+her own talent and Dick’s adoration there was never a day when Esther
+was not in her heart of hearts both humble and deeply puzzled by her
+husband’s ardent affection. Of course neither he nor Betty ever allowed
+her to disparage herself these days, but that had not changed the
+essential elements in Esther’s lovely nature.
+
+“Dick, don’t try to understand,” she now said. “I don’t think we have
+exactly the right. Anthony and Betty were friends once, you know, and
+you were desperately afraid they might be something more. Well, I don’t
+think there is anything between them any longer; whether they have
+quarreled or not is exactly what I don’t know. Only if Betty should want
+to do any special thing for this little French girl, please don’t oppose
+her. It would be an interest for her and you know we don’t want her to
+spend her money on us. She will, you know, if she has any idea that
+there is anything either of us wish that we cannot afford to get.
+Already she says that she is determined to be an old maid so that her
+money can go to——”
+
+Esther blushed but could not have finished her speech as her husband’s
+kiss at this instant made it impossible.
+
+Dick turned to go, but came back almost immediately.
+
+“See here, Esther, I would not think of interfering with any sensible
+thing the Princess may wish to do with her money. I only can’t let her
+be reckless. But about Anthony Graham. If you think he has treated Betty
+badly or hurt her feelings, or goodness knows what, well I won’t stand
+it for a single little instant. He will have to hear what I think of
+him——”
+
+Positively Esther could feel herself turning pale with horror at her
+husband’s remark, but fortunately she had the good sense to laugh.
+
+“Richard Ashton,” she said, “I am not often firm with you, but if you
+ever dare—Oh goodness, was there ever anything on earth quite so stupid
+as a man can be! No matter what may or may not have happened between
+Betty and Anthony there is nothing that you or I can do or say. You know
+we interfered as hard as we possibly could with Betty’s German lover. We
+must leave the poor child to manage some of her own affairs alone.
+Anthony seems to be devoting himself to Meg these days. But he will be
+in Boston at Christmas, so perhaps if it is only a quarrel that has come
+between them they may make it up. But how do you suppose I am ever going
+to be able to get through with all my Christmas church music and give a
+dinner party with Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt present and perhaps have
+Betty’s Camp Fire girls here for an afternoon? The child has some scheme
+or other of taking them for a drive so that they may be able to see the
+Christmas decorations and then bringing them home for a party.”
+
+“If it is going to tire you, Esther, we will cut it all out,” was Dr.
+Ashton’s final protest as he disappeared to begin his morning’s work.
+Dick had been taken into partnership with an older physician and his
+office was several blocks away.
+
+At his departure Esther breathed a sigh of relief. At least by dwelling
+on her own difficulties she had taken his mind away from Betty’s odd
+mood. She did not understand her sister herself, but certainly she must
+be left alone.
+
+Late that afternoon when Betty and Mollie had been doing some Christmas
+shopping in Boston and were sitting side by side on the car, Betty
+whispered unexpectedly:
+
+“See here, Mollie, do you think by any chance it is possible that Polly
+O’Neill could have written me that letter about the little French girl?
+Yes, I realize the question sounds as though I had lost my mind, as
+Polly may be in South America for all I know. Besides, the child never
+heard of Polly until I mentioned her in talking of our old club. But
+somehow, for a reason I can’t even try to explain, I keep thinking of
+Polly these days as if there was something she wanted me to do and yet
+did not exactly know how to ask it of me. It used often to be like that,
+you know, Mollie, when we were younger. Polly and I could guess what was
+in the other’s mind. We often made a kind of game of it, just for fun.
+Anyhow you will have to try and see what is making that poor child so
+miserable, as she seems to like you better than she does me. Perhaps it
+is because you are so like Polly.”
+
+Quietly Mollie nodded. Of course Betty was absurd in her supposition;
+yet, as always, she was perfectly willing to help in any practical way
+that either her erratic sister or Betty suggested.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X—More Puzzles
+
+
+On Christmas eve Mollie and Betty each received notes written and signed
+by Polly herself, postmarked New York City, accompanying small gifts.
+Neither letter made any direct reference to what Polly herself was doing
+nor showed that she had any knowledge of what was interesting her sister
+or friend. Her information in regard to Mollie’s presence in Boston, she
+explained, had been received from her mother.
+
+Well, of course, it was good news to hear that at least Polly was alive
+and not altogether forgetful of her old affections, yet there was no
+other satisfaction in the communications from her. Indeed the two
+letters were much alike and on reading her own each girl felt much the
+same emotion. They were loving enough and almost gay, yet the love did
+not seem accompanied by any special faith to make it worth while, nor
+did the gayety sound altogether sincere.
+
+Betty’s merely said:
+
+  “My Christmas thought is with you now and always, dear Princess.
+  Trust me and love me if you can. You may not approve of what I am
+  doing, but some day I shall try to explain it to you. I can’t ask
+  you to write me unless you will send the letter to Mother and she
+  will forward it. Do nothing rash, dear Princess, Betty, friend,
+  while I am not near to look after you. Your always devoted Polly.”
+
+With a little laugh that was not altogether a cheerful one, Betty also
+turned this letter over to Mollie. The two girls were in Betty’s bedroom
+with no one else present.
+
+“Like Polly, wasn’t it, to tell me not to do anything rash when she was
+not around to run things?” Betty said with a shrug of her shoulders and
+a little arching of her delicate brows.
+
+Mollie looked at her admiringly. Betty had not seemed altogether as she
+used to be in the first few days after her arrival, but recently, with
+the coming of the holidays and the arrival of their old friends, she
+certainly was as pretty as ever. Now she had on an ancient blue silk
+dressing gown which was an especial favorite and her red-brown hair was
+loose over her shoulders. The two friends were resting after a strenuous
+day. In a few hours Esther was to give her first real dinner party and
+they had all been working together toward the great event.
+
+“But why should Polly warn you against rashness under any
+circumstances?” Mollie returned, after having glanced over the note.
+“You are not given to doing foolish things as she is. I suppose because
+Polly is so dreadfully rash herself she believes the same of other
+people.”
+
+There was no answer at first except that the Princess settled herself
+more deeply in her big Morris chair. Mollie was lying on the bed near
+by. Then she laughed again.
+
+“Oh, you need not be so sure of my good sense, Mavourneen, as Polly used
+to call you. I may not be rash in the same way that old Pollykins is,
+perhaps because I have not the same courage, yet I may not be so far
+away from it as you think. Only I wish Polly found my society as
+necessary to her happiness as hers is to mine. I simply dread the
+thought of a Christmas without her, and yet she is probably having a
+perfectly blissful time somewhere with never a thought of us.”
+
+Hearing a sudden knock at their door at this instant Mollie tumbled off
+the bed to answer it. Yet not before she had time to reply, “I am not so
+sure Polly is as happy as you think.” Then the little maid standing
+outside in the hall thrust into her arms four boxes of flowers.
+
+Nearly breathless with excitement Mollie immediately dropped them all
+into her friend’s lap.
+
+“See what a belle you are, Betty Ashton!” she exclaimed. “Here you are
+almost a stranger in Boston and yet being showered with attentions.”
+
+Gravely Betty read aloud the address on the first box.
+
+“Miss Mollie O’Neill, care of Dr. Richard Ashton,” she announced,
+extending the package to the other girl with a mock solemnity and then
+laughing to see Mollie’s sudden blush and change of expression. A moment
+later the second box, also inscribed with Mollie’s name, was presented
+her. But the final two were addressed to Betty, so that the division was
+equal.
+
+It was Mollie, however, who first untied the silver cord that bound the
+larger of her two boxes, and Betty was quite sure that the roses inside
+were no pinker or prettier than her friend’s cheeks.
+
+“They are from Billy,” Mollie said without any hesitation or pretense of
+anything but pleasure. “He says that he has sent a great many so that I
+may wear them tonight and tomorrow and then again tomorrow night to the
+dance, as I care for pink roses more than any flower. It was good of Meg
+to ask Billy to come over for her College holiday dance. I should have
+been dreadfully embarrassed with one of Meg’s strange Harvard friends
+for my escort. And Billy says he would have been abominably lonely in
+Woodford with all of us away.”
+
+Mollie’s second gift was a bunch of red and white carnations, bearing
+Anthony Graham’s card. “How kind of Anthony to remember me,” she
+protested, “when he was never a special friend of mine. But of course he
+sent me the flowers because I happened to be yours and Esther’s guest
+and he is coming here to dinner tonight with Meg. But do please be less
+slow and let me see what you have received.”
+
+For almost reluctantly Betty Ashton seemed to be opening her gifts.
+Nevertheless she could not conceal a quick cry of admiration at what she
+saw first. The box was an oblong purple one tied with gold ribbon. But
+here at Christmastide, in the midst of Boston’s cold and dampness, lay a
+single great bunch of purple violets and another of lilies of the
+valley. Hurriedly Betty picked up the card that lay concealed beneath
+them. Just as Mollie’s had, it bore Anthony Graham’s name, and formal
+good wishes, but something else as well which to any one else would have
+appeared an absurdity. For it was a not very skilful drawing of a small
+ladder with a boy at the foot of it.
+
+“Gracious, it must be true that John is making a fortune in his broker
+shop in Wall Street, as Meg assures me!” Betty exclaimed gayly the next
+moment, thrusting her smaller box of flowers away, to peep into the
+largest of the four offerings. “I did not realize John had yet arrived
+in Boston, Meg was not sure he would be able to be with her for the
+holidays. It is kind of him, I am sure, to remember me, isn’t it Mollie?
+And there is not much danger of my being unable to wear John’s flowers
+with any frock I have, he has sent such a variety. I believe I’ll use
+the mignonette tonight, it is so fragrant and unconventional.”
+
+Betty spoke almost sentimentally and this state of mind was so unusual
+to her that for a moment Mollie only stared in silence. However, as her
+friend disappeared into the bathroom to begin her toilet for the evening
+Mollie remarked placidly, “The violets would look ever so much prettier
+with your blue dress.”
+
+Esther’s round mahogany table seated exactly twelve guests. On her right
+was Richard Hunt, the actor, with Anthony Graham on her left, next him
+was Meg, then Billy Webster and Mollie O’Neill. To the right of Dr.
+Ashton, Margaret Adams had the place of honor, then came a Harvard law
+student who was a special admirer of Meg’s, then a new friend of
+Esther’s and then John Everett and Betty Ashton. As the entire
+arrangement of the company had been made through Betty’s suggestion,
+doubtless she must have chosen the companions at dinner that she most
+desired. Polly’s friend, Richard Hunt, sat on her other side with Meg
+and Anthony nearly opposite.
+
+There had been no lack of cordiality on Betty’s part toward any one of
+their visitors. On Anthony’s arrival with Meg Everett she had thanked
+him for his gift in her most charming manner, but had made no reference
+to the card which he had enclosed nor to the fact that she preferred
+wearing other flowers than his. Meg was looking unusually pretty tonight
+and very frankly Betty told her so. Her soft blond hair was parted on
+the side with a big loose coil at the back and a black velvet ribbon
+encircled her head. Professor Everett was not wealthy and Meg’s college
+education was costing him a good deal, therefore she had ordinarily only
+a moderate sum of money for buying her clothes and no special talent for
+making the best of them. However, this evening her dress had been a
+Christmas gift from her brother John and, as it was of soft white silk
+and lace, particularly becoming to Meg’s pretty blondness. Her blue eyes
+were shining with a kind of veiled light and her color came and went
+swiftly. She seemed just as ingenuous and impulsive as she had ever
+been, until it was difficult to know what must be the truth about her.
+Several times during the evening Esther told herself sternly that of
+course Meg had a perfect right to accept Anthony Graham’s attentions if
+she liked, for there had never been any definite understanding between
+him and her sister, and indeed that she had disapproved of him in the
+past. Yet now Anthony Graham, in spite of his origin, might have been
+considered a good match for almost any girl. He was a distinguished
+looking fellow, with his brilliant foreign coloring, his dark hair and
+high forehead. Esther recalled having once felt keenly sorry for him
+because the other girls and young men in their group of friends had not
+considered him their social or intellectual equal. Now he was entirely
+self-possessed and sure of himself. Yet he did seem almost too grave for
+their happy Betty; possibly it was just as well he had transferred his
+interest to Meg. No one could ever succeed in making Meg Everett serious
+for any great length of time. She was still the same happy-go-lucky girl
+of their old Camp Fire days whom “a higher education” was not altering
+in the least. Yet the “higher education” may have given her subjects of
+conversation worthy of discussing with Anthony, for certainly they spent
+a great part of the time talking in low tones to each other.
+
+Betty appeared in the gayest possible spirits and had never looked
+prettier. Richard Hunt seemed delighted with her, and John Everett had
+apparently returned to the state of admiration which he had always felt
+when they had been boy and girl together in Woodford. Indeed Betty did
+feel unusually animated and excited; she could hardly have known why
+except that she had spent a rather dull winter and that she was
+extremely excited at seeing her old friends again. And then she and Mr.
+Hunt had so much to say to each other on a subject that never failed to
+be interesting—Polly!
+
+Neither he nor Miss Adams had the faintest idea of what had become of
+that erratic young person, although Margaret Adams had also received a
+Christmas letter from her. But where she was or what she was doing, no
+one had the faintest idea. It was evident that Mr. Hunt highly
+disapproved of Polly’s proceedings, and although until the instant
+before Betty had felt exactly as he did, now she rallied at once to her
+friend’s defense.
+
+“Mr. Hunt, you must not think for an instant that Polly was ungrateful
+either to Miss Adams or to you for your many kindnesses, only she had to
+do things in her own Polly fashion, one that other people could not
+exactly understand. But if one had ever been fond of Polly,” Betty
+insisted, “you were apt to keep on caring for her for some reason or
+other which you could not exactly explain. Not that Polly was as pretty
+or perhaps as sweet as Mollie.”
+
+Several times during the evening Betty had noticed that every now and
+then her companion had glanced with interest toward Mollie O’Neill.
+However, when he now agreed with her last statement; she was not sure
+whether his agreement emphasized the fact of Mollie’s superior
+prettiness, or that Polly was an unforgettable character.
+
+Without a doubt Esther’s and Dick’s first formal dinner party was a
+pronounced success. The food was excellent, the two maids, one of whom
+was hired for the occasion, served without a flaw. There was only one
+trifling occurrence that might have created a slight disturbance, and
+this situation fortunately Betty Ashton saw in time to save.
+
+She happened to be sitting at the side of the table that faced the
+windows. Earlier in the evening one of these windows had been opened in
+order to cool the room and the curtain left partly up. The wind was not
+particularly high and no one seemed to be inconvenienced. But most
+unexpectedly toward the close of the dinner a gale must have sprung up.
+Because there was a sudden, sharp noise at the window and without
+warning the blind rolled itself to the topmost ledge with startling
+abruptness, as if some one had pulled sharply at the cord and then let
+go.
+
+Then another noise immediately followed, not so startling but far more
+puzzling. The first racket had caused every member of the little company
+to start instinctively. Then at the same instant, before Richard Ashton,
+who chanced to be pouring a glass of water for Margaret Adams, could get
+up from his place, Betty turned to Richard Hunt. John Everett happened
+to be talking to his other neighbor at the moment.
+
+“Mr. Hunt,” Betty asked quickly, “won’t you please close that window for
+us? It is too cold to have it open and besides one does not altogether
+like the idea that outside persons might be able to look into the room.”
+
+Perhaps Richard Hunt was just a moment longer at the window in the
+performance of so simple a task than one might have expected, but no one
+observed it.
+
+As he took his place again and Betty thanked him she looked at him with
+a slight frown.
+
+“Did you see a ghost, Mr. Hunt?” she queried. “It is not a comfortable
+night even for a ghost to be prowling about. It is too lonely an
+occupation for Christmas eve.”
+
+Richard Hunt smiled at his companion in return. “Oh, I am always seeing
+ghosts, Miss Ashton,” he answered; “I suppose it is because I have an
+actor’s vivid imagination.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI—A Christmas Song and Recognition
+
+
+The entire number of guests who had been together at Esther’s and Dick
+Ashton’s Christmas-eve dinner, agreed to be at church the following
+morning in order to hear Esther sing.
+
+In spite of the fact that Boston is one of the most musical of American
+cities and Esther the most modest of persons, even in so short a time
+her beautiful voice had given her an enviable reputation. The papers in
+giving notice of the morning service had mentioned the fact that the
+solo would be given by Mrs. Richard Ashton. But church music must have
+been Esther’s real vocation, for no matter how large the congregation
+nor how difficult her song she never felt any of her old nervousness and
+embarrassment. For one thing she was partly hidden behind the choir
+screen, so she need not fear that critical eyes were upon her; she could
+be alone with her music and something that was stronger and higher than
+herself.
+
+On Christmas morning Betty entered their pew with her brother Dick,
+Mollie O’Neill and Billy Webster. She was wearing a dark green
+broadcloth with a small black velvet toque on her red-brown hair and a
+new set of black fox furs that her brother and sister had given her that
+morning for a Christmas present. She was pale and a little tired from
+yesterday’s festivities, so that a single red rose which had come to her
+from some unknown source that morning, was the only really bright color
+about her except for the lights in her hair. Mollie was flushed and
+smiling with the interest in the new place and people and the
+companionship of tried friends.
+
+Betty thought that Margaret Adams also seemed weary when she came in
+with Mr. Hunt a few moments later. She was glad that the great lady
+happened to be placed next her so that she might feel the thrill of her
+nearness. For genius is thrilling, no matter how simple and
+unpretentious the man or woman who possesses it. Margaret Adams wore a
+wonderful long Russian sable coat and a small velvet hat and, just as
+naturally as if she had been another girl, slipped her hand into Betty’s
+and held it during the service.
+
+So that in spite of her best efforts Betty could not keep her attention
+from wandering now and then. She knew that Margaret Adams was almost
+equally as devoted to Polly O’Neill as she herself and wondered what she
+thought of their friend’s conduct. She wished that they might have the
+opportunity to talk the matter over before Miss Adams finished her stay
+in Boston. Then, though realizing her own bad manners, Betty could not
+help being a little curious over the friendship between Miss Adams and
+Mr. Hunt. They seemed to have known each other such a long, long time
+and to have acted together so many times. Of course Margaret Adams was
+several years older, but that scarcely mattered with so unusual a
+person.
+
+Moreover, there were other influences at work to keep Betty Ashton’s
+mind from being as firmly fixed upon the subject of the morning’s sermon
+as it should have been. For was she not conscious of the presence of Meg
+and John Everett and Anthony Graham in the pew just back of her? And
+though it did seem vain and self-conscious of her, she had the sensation
+that at least two pairs of eyes were frequently concentrated upon the
+back of her head or upon her profile should she chance to turn her face
+half way around.
+
+When the offertory was finally announced and Esther began the first
+lines of her solo, not only was her sister Betty’s attention caught and
+held, but that of almost every other human being in the church. It was
+not a beautiful Christmas day, outside there were scurrying gray clouds
+and a kind of bleak coldness. But the church was warmly and beautifully
+lighted, the altar white with lilies and crimson with roses, speaking of
+passion and peace. And Esther’s voice had in it something of almost
+celestial sweetness. She was no longer a girl but a woman, for Dick’s
+love and a promise of a fulfilment equally beautiful had added to her
+natural gift a deeper emotional power. And she sang one of the simplest
+and at the same time one of the most beautiful of Christmas hymns.
+
+Betty was perfectly willing to allow all the unhappiness and
+disappointments of the past few months to relieve themselves in the
+tears that came unchecked. Then she saw Margaret Adams bite her lips and
+close her eyes as if she too were shutting out the world of ordinary
+vision to live only in beautiful sound and a higher communion.
+
+  “Hark! the herald angels sing
+  Glory to the new-born King;
+  Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
+  God and sinners reconciled!
+  Joyful, all ye nations, rise,
+  Join the triumph of the skies;
+  With the angelic host proclaim,
+  Christ is born in Bethlehem.
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King.
+
+  “Christ, by highest heaven adored;
+  Christ, the everlasting Lord;
+  Late in time behold Him come,
+  Offspring of a virgin’s womb.
+  Veil’d in flesh the Godhead see,
+  Hail, th’ Incarnate Deity!
+  Pleased as man with man to dwell,
+  Jesus, our Emmanuel!
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King.
+
+  “Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
+  Hail, the Sun of righteousness!
+  Light and life to all He brings,
+  Risen with healing in His wings.
+  Mild He lays His glory by,
+  Born that man no more may die;
+  Born to raise the sons of earth,
+  Born to give them second birth.
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King.”
+
+At the close of the service, turning to leave the church, Betty Ashton
+felt a hand laid on her arm, and glancing up in surprise found Anthony
+Graham’s eyes gazing steadfastly into hers.
+
+“We are friends, are we not, Betty? You would not let any
+misunderstanding or any change in your life alter that?” he asked
+hurriedly.
+
+For just an instant the girl hesitated, then answered simply and
+gracefully:
+
+“I don’t think any one could be unfaithful to an old friendship on
+Christmas morning after hearing Esther sing. It was not in the least
+necessary, Anthony, for you to ask me such a question. You know I shall
+always wish you the best possible things.”
+
+Then, without allowing the young man to reply or to accompany her down
+the aisle, she hurried away to her other friends, and, slipping her arm
+firmly inside Mollie O’Neill’s, she never let go her clasp until they
+were safely out of church.
+
+“It is no use, Meg, nothing matters,” Anthony Graham said a quarter of
+an hour later, when he and Margaret Everett were on their way home
+together, John having deserted them to join the other party. “The fact
+is, Betty does not care in the least one way or the other what I say or
+do.”
+
+“Then I wish you would let me tell her the truth,” Meg urged. “You see,
+Anthony, the Princess and I have always been such intimate friends and I
+have always admired her more than any of the other girls. I don’t wish
+her to misunderstand us. She may not be so brilliant as Polly, nor so
+clever as Sylvia or your sister Nan, but somehow Betty is—well, I
+suppose she is what a real Princess ought to be. That is what Polly
+always declared. It is not just because she is pretty and generous, but
+she is so high-minded. Nothing would make her even appear to take
+advantage of a friend.” And Meg sighed, her usually happy face clouding.
+
+In silence, then, the girl and young man walked on for a few moments
+when Anthony replied: “You must do as you like, of course, Meg. I have
+no right to ask you anything else. But this understanding between us
+means everything in the world to me and it was your own offer in the
+beginning.”
+
+Meg nodded. “Yes, I know; but truly I don’t think as much of my idea as
+I did at first. Still I am willing to keep quiet for a while longer if
+you wish it.”
+
+At this moment there was no further opportunity for intimate
+conversation, for Meg’s Harvard friend, Ralph Brown, made his appearance
+with a five-pound box of candy, elaborately tied with red ribbon, under
+his arm, and an expression on his face that suggested politely but
+firmly that Anthony Graham retire for the present, leaving the field to
+him.
+
+Of their friends in Boston only Margaret Adams and Richard Hunt had been
+invited by Esther and Dr. Ashton to have an informal Christmas dinner
+with them. For the dinner party the evening before had been such a
+domestic strain upon the little household that they wished to spend the
+following day quietly. But it was impossible to think of Margaret Adams
+dining alone in a great hotel, and she would certainly accept no
+invitation from her wealthier and more fashionable acquaintances in
+Boston. Moreover, Betty hoped that in the afternoon there might be a
+chance to talk of Polly. At the beginning no one had dreamed of
+including Richard Hunt in the invitation, as he was a comparative
+stranger; but Dick, having taken a sudden fancy to him, had calmly
+suggested his returning for Christmas day without due consultation with
+his family.
+
+Five minutes after starting for home with Dick and Esther, Mollie, Betty
+and Miss Adams, Mr. Hunt, with a murmured excuse which no one
+understood, asked to be excused from going further. He would join the
+party later if possible, but should he chance to be delayed dinner must
+on no account be kept waiting for him.
+
+His conduct did seem rather extraordinary, and although Dick and Esther
+betrayed no surprise, it was plain enough that Margaret Adams felt
+annoyed. She had introduced Mr. Hunt to her friends and so naturally
+felt responsible for his conduct.
+
+Though the man was aware of his apparent eccentricity and though his
+manners were usually nearly perfect, he now deliberately turned away
+from the little company. And in spite of his half-hearted suggestion of
+re-joining them he had little idea at present of when he would return.
+Deliberately he retraced his steps to the church which he had quitted
+only a few moments before.
+
+Already the place was nearly deserted. On the sidewalk the clergyman was
+saying farewell to a few final members of his congregation, while inside
+the sexton was closing the doors of the two side aisles, although the
+large door in the center still remained open. Hurriedly Mr. Hunt
+entered. And there, just as he had hoped to find her, was the figure of
+a girl sitting in a rather dejected attitude in one of the last pews.
+She had on a dark dress and a heavy long coat and about her head a thick
+veil was tied.
+
+Before he could reach her she had risen and was starting away.
+
+“Wait here for a moment, Miss O’Neill; we can find no other spot so
+quiet in which to have a talk,” the man said sternly.
+
+Then as Polly flashed an indignant glance at him, attempting to pass as
+though she had neither seen nor recognized him, he added:
+
+“I know I have no right to intrude upon you, but unless you are willing
+to give me some explanation of why you are here and what you are doing,
+I shall tell the friends who are nearer to you than I am of my having
+seen you not only this morning, but last night as well.”
+
+“Oh, please don’t!” Polly’s voice was trembling. “Really, truly, I am
+not doing anything wrong in staying here in Boston and not letting
+people hear. My mother knows where I am and what I am doing and of
+course I am not alone. Yes, it was utterly silly and reckless of me to
+have peeped in at Esther’s dining-room window last night, but I was so
+dreadfully lonely and wanted to see everybody so much. How could I have
+dreamed that that wretched curtain would go banging away up in the air
+as it did? But anyhow, Mr. Hunt, I shall always be everlastingly
+grateful to you for not telling on me last night. I did not suppose you
+saw me and certainly never imagined you could have recognized me when I
+crouched down in the shadow.”
+
+Unexpectedly Polly O’Neill laughed. “What a perfect idiot I should have
+looked if you had dragged me in before the dinner party like a spy or a
+thief or a beggar! I can just imagine Esther’s and Mollie’s
+expressions.”
+
+“Yes, but all this is not quite to the point, Miss Polly,” Richard Hunt
+continued, speaking however in a more friendly tone. “Am I to tell
+Margaret Adams and Betty Ashton that I have discovered you, or will you
+take me into your secret and let me decide what is best to be done
+afterwards?”
+
+“But you have not the right to do either the one thing nor the other,”
+the girl argued, lifting her veil for an instant in order to see if
+there was any sign of relenting in the face of her older friend.
+
+There was not the slightest. And Polly recognized that for once in her
+life she was beaten.
+
+“Don’t say anything today then, please,” she urged, looking into her
+pocketbook and finding there a card with a name and address written upon
+it. “But come to see me tomorrow if you like. And don’t think that I am
+ungrateful or—or horrid,” she ended abruptly, rushing away so swiftly
+that it would have been impossible for any one to have followed her
+without creating attention.
+
+Rather grimly Richard Hunt gazed at the card he held in his hand. It
+bore a name that was not Polly O’Neill’s and the address of a quiet
+street in Boston. What on the face of the earth could she be doing? It
+was impossible to guess, and yet it was certainly nothing very unwise if
+her mother knew and approved of it.
+
+Whether or not he had the right to find out, Richard Hunt had positively
+decided to take advantage of his recognition of Polly O’Neill and insist
+upon her confidence. He could not have explained even to himself why he
+was so determined on this course of action. However, it was true, as her
+friend Betty Ashton had insisted the night before, whether or not you
+happened to feel a liking for Polly, you were not apt to forget her.
+
+In the past few months it was curious how often he had found himself
+wondering what had become of the girl. He recalled her having run away
+several years before to make her first stage appearance and then their
+meeting in Margaret Adams’ drawing room in London later on. Well,
+perhaps curiosity was not alone a feminine trait of character, for
+Richard Hunt felt convinced he would be more at peace with himself and
+the world when he had learned Polly’s story from her own lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII—After Her Fashion Polly Explains
+
+
+The next afternoon a dark-haired woman a little past thirty came into
+the boarding house sitting room to see Richard Hunt before Polly made
+her appearance.
+
+“I am Mrs. Martins, Miss O’Neill’s chaperon,” she explained. “Or if I am
+not exactly her chaperon at least we are together and I am trying to see
+that no harm befalls her. No, she is not calling herself by her own
+name, but she will prefer to give you her own reason for that. I have
+met her mother several times, so that of course I understand the
+situation.” Mrs. Martins was a woman of refinement and of some education
+and her pronunciation of her own name showed her to be of French origin.
+
+Already the situation was slightly less mystifying. Yet there was still
+a great deal for Polly to make clear if she chose to do so. However, it
+was curious that she was taking so long a time to join them.
+
+Mrs. Martins continued to talk about nothing in particular, so it was
+evident that she intended making no betrayals. Now and then she even
+glanced toward the door in some embarrassment, as though puzzled and
+annoyed by her companion’s delay. And while Richard Hunt was answering
+her politely if vaguely, actually he was on the point of deciding that
+Polly did not intend coming down stairs at all. Well perhaps it would
+serve him right, for what authority did he have for forcing the girl’s
+confession? And she was certainly quite capable of punishing him by
+placing him in an absurd situation.
+
+Nevertheless nothing was farther from Polly O’Neill’s intention at the
+present moment. She was merely standing before her mirror in her tiny
+upstairs bedroom trying to summon sufficient courage to meet her guest
+and tell her story.
+
+Once or twice she had started for the door only to return and stare at
+herself with intense disapproval. She had rubbed her cheeks with a crash
+towel until at least they were crimson enough, although the color was
+not very satisfying, and she had arranged her hair three times, only to
+decide at the last that she had best have left it alone at first.
+
+Now she made a little grimace at her own image, smiling at almost the
+same instant.
+
+“My beloved Princess or Mollie, I do wish you could lend me your good
+looks for the next half hour,” she murmured half aloud. “It is so much
+easier to be eloquent and convincing in this world when one happens to
+be pretty. But I, well certainly I would serve as a perfect illustration
+of ‘a rag and a bone and a hank of hair’ at this moment if at no other.”
+
+Polly glanced down at her costume with more satisfaction than she had
+found in surveying her face. It was not in the least shabby, but a very
+charming dress which her mother had sent as a part of her Christmas box.
+The dress was of dark red crepe de Chine with a velvet girdle and collar
+of the same shade. And although under ordinary circumstances it might
+have been becoming, today Polly was not wrong in believing that she was
+not looking even her poor best. She was tired and nervous. Of course it
+did not matter so very much what Mr. Hunt might think of the story she
+had to tell him, but later on there would be many other persons whom she
+would have to persuade to accept her point of view. And somehow she felt
+that if she failed to convince her first listener she must fail with the
+others.
+
+Then unexpectedly, before hearing the sound of her approach, Richard
+Hunt discovered a cold hand being extended to shake his, and in a voice
+even more chilling Polly O’Neill was apologizing for having kept him
+waiting. Yet on the way down the steps had she not positively made up
+her mind to be so cordial and agreeable that her visitor should forget
+her other deficiencies?
+
+With a feeling of amazement mixed with despair Polly seated herself in
+the darkest corner of a small sofa next Mrs. Martins, deciding that it
+was quite useless, that she should attempt no explanation. Mr. Hunt and
+her companion could talk together about the weather if they chose, for
+she could not think of a single word to say. Afterwards her visitor
+could go away and give any account of her he wished, although naturally
+this might frustrate all her hopes and ambitions and make her dearest
+friends angry with her for life. Yet if one were always to suffer from
+stage fright at all the critical moments of one’s career what else could
+be expected?
+
+At this moment Mrs. Martins excused herself and left the room. Polly saw
+her go with a characteristic shrug of her shoulders and an odd glance at
+her visitor. The moment had come. Mr. Hunt would discover that she had
+not even the grace to keep her promise, and heaven alone knew what he
+would soon think of her.
+
+Yet after saying good-by to her companion he continued talking in the
+kindest possible fashion, telling her news of Esther and Dick Ashton,
+saying how much he admired Betty and Mollie.
+
+Indeed in less than five minutes Polly had actually managed to forget
+the reason for her visitor’s call and was asking him questions about her
+old friends, faster than they could be answered.
+
+“Was their play, A Woman’s Wit, still as great a success as it had been
+at the start? Was Margaret Adams well or had the winter’s work used her
+up? Did Betty Ashton seem to have any special admirer in Boston?”
+
+Actually in a brief quarter of an hour Polly’s eyes were shining and her
+lips smiling. Curled up comfortably on her sofa she suddenly appreciated
+that she was having the most agreeable time she had enjoyed in months.
+Then again her expression changed and her brief radiance vanished. Yet
+this time her companion understood.
+
+“Miss Polly,” he said quickly, “please don’t feel that after what
+happened yesterday I still mean to force you to make a confidant of me.
+The truth is I did want very much to hear that all was well with you and
+that you were not making any kind of mistake. I am not going to be a
+coward, so I confess that I came here today expecting to force your
+secret from you simply because I had an advantage over you. But, of
+course, now that we have been talking together I can see that you are
+all right, even if you do look rather tired and none too cheerful. So I
+want to apologize and then I shall go away and not worry you again. Also
+you may feel entirely assured that I shall not mention having seen you
+to any one.”
+
+The man had risen from his chair, but before he could move a step
+forward, Polly had clasped her hands together and was gazing at him
+imploringly.
+
+“Oh, please, Mr. Hunt, don’t go,” she begged. “All of a sudden I have
+begun to feel that if I don’t tell some one my secret and ask you to
+approve of me or at least to try to forgive me for what I am doing I
+shall perish.” Actually Polly would now have pushed her visitor back
+into his chair if he had not sat down again so promptly as to make it
+unnecessary.
+
+“You are sure you wish to confide in me, Miss Polly? Of course you
+understand that I will tell no one. But if your mother knows and
+approves of you, why surely no other person is necessary,” he argued.
+
+In reply the girl laughed. “Mother is an angel and for that reason
+perhaps she does not always approve or understand me exactly. In this
+case she is just permitting me to have my own way because she promised
+to let me try and do what I could to become a successful actress and she
+never goes back on her word. Of course my method seems queer to her and
+probably will to you. But after all it is the way I see things and one
+can’t look out of any one’s eyes but one’s own. Surely you believe that,
+Mr. Hunt?”
+
+Of course any one who really understood Polly O’Neill, Betty Ashton for
+instance, would have understood at once that she was now beginning to
+explain her own wilfulness. Yet her question did sound convincing, for
+assuredly one can have no other vision than one’s own.
+
+Richard Hunt nodded sympathetically, although Polly was looking so
+absurdly young and so desperately in earnest that he would have
+preferred to smile.
+
+She was leaning forward with her chin resting on her hand and gazing
+intently at him. What she saw was a man who seemed almost middle-aged to
+her. And yet to the girl he seemed almost ideally handsome. His features
+were strong and well-cut, the nose aquiline, the mouth large and firm.
+And he was wearing the kindest possible expression. For half an instant
+Polly’s thoughts flew away from herself. Surely if any one in the world
+could be worthy of Margaret Adams it was Richard Hunt. Then she settled
+down to the telling of her own story.
+
+“You know of course, Mr. Hunt, without my having to say anything more
+about it, that ever since I was a little girl I have dreamed and hoped
+and prayed of some day becoming a great actress. Mother says that there
+was some one in my family once, one of my Irish aunts, I believe, who
+ran away from home in order to go on the stage and was never recognized
+again. I have thought sometimes that perhaps I inherited her ambition.
+One never knows about things like that, life is so queer. Anyhow when a
+dozen girls in Woodford formed a Camp Fire and we lived together in the
+woods for over a year working and playing, mother and Betty and my
+sister expected me to get over my foolish ideas and learn something
+through our club that might make me adopt a more sensible career. I
+don’t mean to be rude to you, Mr. Hunt,” Polly was profoundly serious,
+there was now no hint of amusement in her dark blue eyes or in her
+mobile face, “you understand I am only telling you what my family and
+friends thought about people who were actors—not what I think. I don’t
+see why acting isn’t just as great and useful as the other arts if one
+is conscientious and has real talent. But the trouble with me has been
+all along that I haven’t any real talent. I suppose if I had been a
+genius from the first no one would have cared to oppose me. Well the
+Camp Fire did not influence me against what I wanted to do; it only made
+me feel more in earnest than I had ever been before. For we girls
+learned such a lot about courage and perseverance and being happy even
+if things were not going just the way one liked, that it has all been a
+great help to me recently, more than at any time in my life.”
+
+Richard Hunt nodded gravely. “I see,” he said quietly, although in point
+of fact he did not yet understand in the least what Polly was trying to
+explain, nor why she should review so much of her past life before
+coming to her point. He was curiously interested, although ordinarily he
+might have been bored by such a disjointed story.
+
+Polly was too intense at the moment to have bored anyone. There she sat
+in her red dress against the darker background of the sofa with her
+figure almost in shadow and the light falling only upon her odd, eager
+face.
+
+“I ran away from Miss Adams and from you, not because I was such a
+coward that I meant to give up the thing I was trying for, but because I
+knew that I must have a harder time if I was ever to amount to anything.
+You see people were trying to make things so easy for me and in a way
+they were making them more difficult. Margaret gave me that place in her
+company when I did not deserve it; you tried to show me how to act when
+I could not learn; my friends were complimenting me when all the time
+they must have known I was a failure. I couldn’t bear it, Mr. Hunt;
+really I could not. I am lots of horrid things, but I am not a fraud.
+Then Margaret told me what a difficult time she had at the beginning of
+her career and how no one had helped her. Of course she meant to make me
+feel that I might be more successful because of my friends’ aid, but I
+did not see things just that way. Oh, I do hope you had to work
+dreadfully hard at the beginning of your profession and had lots of
+failures,” Polly concluded so unexpectedly and so solemnly that this
+time Richard Hunt could not refrain from laughing.
+
+“Oh no, it wasn’t all plain sailing for me either, Miss Polly, and it
+isn’t now for that matter, if it is of any help to you to know it,” he
+added, realizing that his companion was absolutely unconscious of having
+said anything amusing.
+
+“Before I gave up trying to act Belinda I got a small position in a
+cheap stock company.” Polly had at last reached the point of her story.
+“The company has been traveling through New England all winter and is
+still on the road. We only happened to be in Boston during the holidays.
+I have been playing almost any kind of part, sometimes I am a maid,
+sometimes a lady-in-waiting to the queen; once or twice, when the star
+has been ill, I have had to take the character of the heroine. Of course
+all this must sound very silly and commonplace to you, Mr. Hunt, but
+honestly I am learning a few things: not to be so self-conscious for one
+thing and to work very, very hard.”
+
+“Too hard, Miss Polly, I am afraid,” Richard Hunt replied, looking
+closely at his companion and feeling oddly moved by her confession.
+Perhaps the girl’s effort would amount to nothing and perhaps she was
+unwise in having made it, nevertheless one could not but feel sorry that
+her friends had suspected her of ingratitude and lack of affection and
+that she was engaged in some kind of foolish escapade. Richard Hunt felt
+extremely guilty himself at the moment.
+
+“Oh no, I am not working too hard or at least not too hard for my
+health,” Polly argued. “You see both my mother and Sylvia are looking
+after me. Sylvia made me promise her once, when I did not understand
+what she meant, that I would let her know what I was doing all this
+winter. So I have kept my promise and every once and a while good old
+Sylvia travels to where I happen to be staying and looks me over and
+gives me pills and things.” Polly smiled. “You don’t know who Sylvia is
+and it is rather absurd of me to talk to you so intimately about my
+family. Sylvia is my step-sister, but she used to be merely my friend
+when we were girls. She is younger than I am but a thousand times
+cleverer and is studying to be a physician. She has not much respect for
+my judgment but she is rather fond of me.”
+
+“And your chaperon?” Perhaps Mr. Hunt realized that he was asking a good
+many questions when he and Polly O’Neill were still comparative
+strangers; yet he was too much concerned for her welfare at present to
+care.
+
+Polly did not seem to be either surprised or offended by his
+questioning, but pleased to have some one in whom she might confide.
+
+“Oh, just at first mother sent one of her old friends about everywhere
+with me. But when she got tired we found this Mrs. Martins who was
+having a hard time in New York and needed something to do. She is really
+awfully nice and is teaching me French in our spare moments. She used to
+be a dressmaker, I believe, but could not get enough work to do.”
+Suddenly Polly straightened up and put out her hand this time in an
+exceedingly friendly fashion.
+
+“Goodness, Mr. Hunt, what a dreadfully long time I have been keeping you
+here and how good you have been to listen to me so patiently!” she
+exclaimed. “You will keep my secret for me, won’t you? This winter I
+don’t want my friends to know what I am trying to do or to come to see
+me act. I have not improved enough so far.”
+
+Still holding Polly’s hand in a friendly clasp, her visitor rose.
+
+“But you will let me come, won’t you?” he urged. “You see I am in your
+secret now and so I am different from other people. Besides I am very
+grateful to you for your faith in me and I don’t like to remember now
+that I first tried bullying you into confiding in me.”
+
+Polly’s answering sigh was one of relief. “I don’t seem to mind even
+that, although I was angry and frightened at first,” she returned. “I
+don’t usually enjoy doing what people make me do. But if you think you
+really would like to come to see me play, perhaps I should be rather
+glad. Only you must promise not to let me know when you are there, nor
+what you think of my acting afterwards.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII—A Place of Memories
+
+
+
+“I wonder, Angel, if you had ever heard of my friend, Polly O’Neill,
+before I mentioned her name to you?” Betty Ashton asked after a few
+moments of silence between the two girls, when evidently Betty had been
+puzzling over this same question.
+
+Angel shook her head. “Never,” she returned quietly.
+
+Five months had passed since their first meeting and now the scene about
+them was a very different one from the four bare walls of a hospital,
+and the little French girl was almost as completely changed.
+
+It was early spring in the New Hampshire hills and the child and young
+woman were seated outside a cabin of logs with their eyes resting
+sometimes on a small lake before them, again on a dark group of pine
+trees, but more often on a sun-tipped hill ahead where the meadows
+seemed to lie down in green homage at her feet.
+
+Everywhere there were signs of the earth’s eternal re-birth and
+re-building. The grain showed only a tiny hint of its autumn harvest of
+gold, but the grass, the flowers, the new leaves on the bushes and trees
+were at their gayest and loveliest. Notwithstanding there was a breeze
+cool enough to make warm clothes a necessity, and Betty wore a long dark
+blue cloth cloak, while her companion, who was lying at full length in a
+steamer chair, was covered with a heavy rug. Yet the girl’s delicate
+white hands were busily engaged in weaving long strands of
+bright-colored straws together.
+
+“Why did you think I had ever heard of your friend, Princess?” she
+queried after a short pause.
+
+[Illustration: “Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?”]
+
+Keeping her finger in a volume of Tennyson’s poems which she had been
+supposed to be reading, the older girl gazed thoughtfully and yet almost
+unseeingly into the dark eyes of her companion. “I don’t know exactly,”
+she replied thoughtfully, “only for some strange reason since our
+earliest acquaintance you have always made me think of Polly. You don’t
+look like her, of course, though there is just a suggestion in your
+expression now and then. Perhaps because you were so interested in her
+when I began telling of our Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls. I don’t
+believe you would ever have been able to endure me you know, Angel dear,
+if you had not liked hearing me talk of Polly; then think of what good
+times we should both have missed!”
+
+Across the little French girl’s face a warm flush spread.
+
+“It is like you to say ‘we’ should have missed,” she replied softly.
+“But I never hated you, you were always mistaken in believing that. From
+the morning you first came to the hospital and ever afterwards I thought
+you the prettiest person I had ever seen in my life and one of the
+sweetest. It was only that in those early days I was too miserable to
+speak to any one. Always I was afraid I should break down if I tried to
+talk, so when the other girls attempted being nice to me I pretended I
+was sullen and hateful when in reality I was a coward. It was just the
+same when you started the ‘Shut-In Camp Fire’ among the girls. I would
+not join, I would not take the slightest interest in the beginning for
+much the same reason. But you were always so patient and agreeable to me
+and so was Miss Mollie. Then there was always Cricket!” Smiling, she
+paused for a moment listening.
+
+Inside Sunrise cabin both girls could hear the noise of several persons
+moving about as though deeply engaged in some important business.
+
+“I suppose I ought to go in and help,” Betty remarked in a slightly
+conscience-smitten tone, “but Mollie does so enjoy fussing about getting
+things ready. And in spite of all my efforts and stern Camp Fire
+training I shall never be so good a cook as she is. Besides, both Mollie
+and Cricket informed me politely, after I finished cleaning our rooms
+and had set the luncheon table, that I was somewhat in the way. I
+suppose I had best go in, though. Is there anything I can do for you
+first, Angel? Cricket is beating that cake batter so hard it sounds like
+a drum.”
+
+Betty had half risen from her chair when the expression in her
+companion’s face made her sit down again. “What is it?” she asked.
+
+For a moment the other girl’s fingers ceased their busy weaving. “You
+have never asked me anything about myself, Princess, in spite of all the
+wonderful things you have done for me,” she began. “I don’t want to bore
+you, but I should like——”
+
+With a low laugh Betty suddenly hunched her chair forward until it was
+close up against the larger one.
+
+“And I, I am perfectly dying to hear, you must know, you dear little
+goose, to talk about boring me! Don’t you know I am one of the most
+curious members of my curious sex? I have not asked you questions
+because I did not feel I had the right unless you wished to tell. But
+possibly I asked that question about Polly O’Neill just to give you a
+chance. Really I don’t know.”
+
+In spite of this small confession, not for worlds would Betty Ashton
+have allowed the sensitive little French girl to have learned another
+reason for her questioning. It was odd and certainly unreasonable, yet
+in all her recent kindness and care of Angelique she had continued to
+feel that in some mysterious fashion her friend, Polly O’Neill, was
+encouraging and aiding her. There was some one at work, assuredly,
+though she had no shadow of right in believing it to be Polly. For
+though she had confided in no one, the first anonymous letter in regard
+to the ill girl had not been the last one. In truth there must have been
+half a dozen in all, postmarked at different places and all of them
+unsigned and yet showing a remarkably intimate knowledge of the growing
+friendship between the two girls.
+
+The first step had been natural and simple enough. For with her usual
+enthusiasm after her visit to the hospital Betty had immediately set
+about forming a Camp Fire. She had sent for all the literature she could
+find on the subject, the club manual and songs. Then she and Mollie,
+during her visit, and sometimes Meg, had taught the new club members as
+much as possible of what they had themselves learned during the old days
+at Sunrise Hill.
+
+For the first few meetings of the club in the great, sunny hospital room
+there was one solitary girl who would not show the least interest in the
+new and delightful proceedings. Indeed she kept on with her stupid
+gazing up toward the ceiling as if she were both deaf and blind.
+
+However, one day when she believed no one looking and while the other
+girls were talking of their future aims and ambitions and of the ways in
+which their new club might help them, unexpectedly Betty Ashton had
+caught sight of Angelique, with her dark eyes fixed almost despairingly
+upon her.
+
+The other girls were all busy, some of them sewing on their new
+ceremonial Camp Fire costumes of khaki, others making bead bands or
+working at basket weaving. In the meanwhile they were talking of Camp
+Fire honors to be won in the future and of the new names which they
+might hope to attain.
+
+Therefore, almost unnoticed by any one else, Betty was able to cross
+over to the side of the French girl’s bed.
+
+“I was wondering if I could not also do some of that pretty work with my
+hands,” the girl began at once, speaking as composedly as if she had
+been talking to Betty every day since their first meeting, although this
+was only the second time that she had ever voluntarily addressed a word
+to her.
+
+Without commenting or appearing surprised, Betty brought over to her
+bedside a quantity of bright straw and straightaway commenced showing
+the girl the first principles of the art of basket-weaving which she had
+learned in the Sunrise Camp Fire. Very little instruction was necessary;
+for, before the first lesson was over, the pupil had learned almost as
+much as her teacher. Indeed the French girl’s skill with her hands was
+an amazement to everybody. With her third effort and without assistance,
+Angel manufactured so charming a basket that Betty bore it home in
+triumph to show to her brother and sister. Then quite by accident the
+basket was left in Esther’s sitting room, where a visitor, seeing it and
+hearing the story of its weaving, asked permission to purchase it.
+
+After some discussion, and fearful of how the girl might receive the
+offer, Betty finally summoned courage to tell Angelique. Thus
+unexpectedly Betty came upon one of the secrets of her new friend’s
+nature. Angel had an inordinate, a passionate desire for making money.
+She was older than any one had imagined her, between fourteen and
+fifteen. Now her hands were no longer clenched on her coverlid nor did
+her eyes turn resolutely to gaze at nothingness. Propped up on her
+pillows, her white fingers were ever busy at dozens of tasks. Betty had
+found a place in Boston where her baskets were sold almost as fast as
+she could make them. Then Angelique knew quite amazing things about
+sewing, so that Esther sent her several tiny white frocks to be
+delicately embroidered, and always the other girls at the hospital were
+asking her aid and advice.
+
+Quite astonishing the doctors considered the girl’s rapid improvement.
+Perhaps no one had told them the secret, for she now had an interest in
+life and a chance not to be always useless. Was it curious that she no
+longer disliked Betty Ashton and that she soon became the leading spirit
+in the new Camp Fire?
+
+Afterwards the Wohelo candles were placed on a small table near Angel’s
+bed while the girls formed their group about her.
+
+Then one day in early April the Princess had whispered something in
+Angel’s ear. It was only a hope or at best a plan, yet, after all, Betty
+Ashton was a kind of fairy godmother to whom all impossible things were
+possible.
+
+For Sunrise cabin was undoubtedly open once again with four girls as its
+occupants—Betty Ashton and Mollie O’Neill, Cricket and “The Angel.”
+
+“I am afraid you won’t find my story as interesting as you would like it
+to be,” Angel said after a moment. “And perhaps it may prejudice you
+against me. I don’t believe Americans think of these things as French
+people do. But my father was a ballet master and ever since I was the
+tiniest little girl I had been taught to dance and dance, almost to do
+nothing else. You see I was to be a première danseuse some day,” Angel
+continued quite simply and calmly, scarcely noticing that Betty’s face
+had paled through sympathy and that she was biting her lips and
+resolutely turning away her eyes from the fragile figure stretched out
+in the long steamer chair.
+
+“I was born in Paris, but when I was only a few years old my father came
+to New York and was one of the assistant ballet masters at your great
+opera house. Ten years later, I think it must have been, I was trying a
+very difficult dance and in some way I had a fall. I did not know it was
+very bad, we paid no attention to it, then this came.” The little French
+girl shrugged her shoulders. “My father died soon after and mother tried
+taking care of us both. She did sewing at the theaters and anything else
+she could. She wasn’t very successful. One day a chance came for me to
+have special treatment in Boston. I was sent there and mother got some
+other work to do. I have only seen her once in months and months. But
+you can understand now why I am so anxious to make money. I was afraid
+perhaps you would not. I don’t want to be a burden on mother always and
+now I think perhaps I need not be.”
+
+Angel spoke with entire cheerfulness and decision. It did not seem even
+to have occurred to her that she had been telling her friend an
+amazingly tragic little history. Nor did Betty Ashton wish her to
+realize how deeply affected she was by it. So, jumping up with rather an
+affectation of hurry and surprise, she kissed her companion lightly on
+the cheek.
+
+“Thank you a thousand times for confiding in me, dear, and please don’t
+be hopeless about never getting well. See how much you have improved!
+But there comes the first of our guests to lunch, a whole half hour too
+soon. But as long as Billy Webster promised to bring us the mail from
+Woodford I suppose I must forgive him. Anyhow I must try to keep him
+from worrying Mollie. She would be dreadfully bored to have him see her
+before she is dressed.” Betty walked away for a few steps and then came
+back again.
+
+“You will never understand perhaps, Angel, how much my learning to know
+you this winter has done for me. I was dreadfully unhappy over something
+myself, and perhaps I am still, but coming to visit you in Boston and
+then our being together down here has cheered me immensely. I know you
+are a great deal younger than I am, but if Polly O’Neill never writes me
+again or wishes to have anything more to do with me, perhaps some day
+you may be willing to be my very, very intimate friend. You see I have
+not had even a single line from Polly in months and months and I can’t
+even guess what on earth has become of her.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV—A Sudden Summons
+
+
+Though Billy Webster had brought with him from the village half a dozen
+letters and as many papers, no one of the dwellers in Sunrise cabin was
+able to read anything for three or four hours after his arrival.
+
+For Betty and Mollie were having an informal luncheon. But indeed, ever
+since taking up their abode at the cabin several weeks before, they had
+never passed a single day without guests. For it was too much like old
+times for their Woodford friends to find the door of the little house
+once more hospitably open, with a log fire burning in the big fire place
+in the living room and the movement and laughter of girls inside the old
+cabin and out.
+
+At present there were only the four of them living there together with
+the Ashton’s old Irish cook, Ann, as their guardian, chaperon and first
+aid in domestic difficulties. Later on, there would be other members of
+the Sunrise Hill club, who were already looking forward to spending
+their holidays at the cabin.
+
+As a matter of course, Billy Webster was at present their most frequent
+visitor, although his calls were ordinarily short. Almost every morning
+he used to ride up to the cabin on horseback to see if things had gone
+well with his friends during the night, or to ask if there were any
+errands in the village which he could do or have done for them. For you
+may remember that the land on which the cabin stood had been bought from
+Billy’s father and was not far from their farm. Billy now seemed to be
+the only one of their former boy friends who was able to come often to
+the old cabin.
+
+John Everett was at work in the broker’s office in New York City, Frank
+Wharton had only just returned from his honeymoon journey with Eleanor
+Meade, and Anthony Graham was attending a session of the New Hampshire
+Legislature and probably spending his week ends in visits to Meg
+Everett. There were other men friends, assuredly, who appeared at the
+cabin now and then, but they had fewer associations with the past.
+
+Betty was looking forward to John Everett’s coming a little later; but
+she had begged him to wait until they were more comfortably settled and
+the two younger girls had grown accustomed to their new surroundings.
+
+Today Rose Barton and Faith had driven out to the cabin for luncheon and
+Mrs. Crippen, Betty’s step-mother with the new small step-brother, who
+was an adorable red-haired baby with the pinkest of cheeks and the
+bluest eyes in the world. Then, soon after lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Frank
+Wharton appeared in their up-to-date motor car, which had been Frank’s
+wedding gift from his father.
+
+So it was a simple enough matter to understand why neither Betty nor
+Mollie had the opportunity even to glance inside the envelopes of their
+letters, though Mollie recognized that she had received one from her
+mother and Betty saw that Mrs. Wharton had also written to her. There
+was nothing unusual in this, for Betty and Mrs. Wharton had always
+remained intimate and devoted friends, just as they had been since Betty
+was a tiny girl and Mrs. Wharton, as Mrs. O’Neill, lived across the
+street from the big Ashton house.
+
+Certainly for the time being the two hostesses had their attention fully
+distracted by their social responsibilities. For Mollie had direct
+charge of the luncheon party, while to Betty had fallen the duty of
+seeing that their friends learned to understand one another and to have
+a gay time.
+
+It was a pleasure for her to observe what an interest Faith Barton had
+immediately seemed to feel in her little French girl. For one could only
+think of Angelique as a child, she was so tiny and fragile with all her
+delicate body hidden from view save her quaint, vivid face and slender
+arms.
+
+Faith herself had been a curious child, and though now so nearly grown,
+was not in the least like an every-day person. She was extremely pretty,
+suggesting a fair young saint in an old Italian picture; and still she
+loved dreams better than realities and books more than people.
+Ordinarily she was very shy; yet here in Angelique, Faith believed that
+she had probably found the friend of her heart. The French girl seemed
+romance personified, and delicately and gently she set out to woo her.
+But Angel was not easy to win, she was still cold and frightened with
+all persons except her fairy princess. Nevertheless, Betty sincerely
+hoped that the two girls might eventually learn to care truly for each
+other.
+
+They were so different in appearance that it was an artistic pleasure to
+see them together. Faith was so soft and fair; Angel so dark and with
+such possibilities of restrained vivacity and passion. Then the older
+girl knew so little of real life, while the younger one had already
+touched its sorrows too deeply.
+
+After all, it was really Faith’s sudden attachment that kept the guests
+at the cabin longer than they had intended to remain.
+
+At four o’clock, fearing the excitement too much for her protégé, Betty
+had persuaded the girl to retire to bed. Faith had at once insisted on
+having tea alone in the room with Angel so that they might have a chance
+for a really intimate conversation. It was Faith, however, who did all
+the talking, nor did she even have the satisfaction of knowing that her
+new acquaintance had enjoyed her. Certainly the French girl was going to
+be difficult; yet perhaps to a romantic nature mystery is the greatest
+attraction.
+
+Actually it was almost six o’clock when the last visitor had finally
+departed from Sunrise cabin and Mollie and Betty had a few quiet moments
+together. It had been a beautiful day and now when the sun was sinking
+behind the hill, spreading its radiance over the world, the two friends
+stepped outside the cabin door for a short breathing spell.
+
+Betty had completely forgotten her unopened letters; she was thinking of
+something entirely different, and her gray eyes were not free from a
+certain wistfulness as she looked around the familiar landscape. All day
+long, although she had done her best at concealment, she had felt
+vaguely restless and unhappy. There had been no definite reason, except,
+perhaps, the pathetic story confided to her earlier in the day.
+
+Suddenly Mollie O’Neill turned toward her friend, at the same instant
+drawing two letters from her pocket.
+
+“I declare, Betty dear, I have not had a single moment of leisure all
+day, not even time to read mother’s letter. Have you? I do hope she had
+nothing of special importance to say. I thought she might possibly come
+and see us for a while this afternoon.”
+
+Seeing Mollie open Mrs. Wharton’s note and beginning to read it, Betty
+immediately followed her example. But the moment after both girls turned
+their eyes from studying the sheets of paper before them to stare
+curiously at each other.
+
+“How very extraordinary and how very unlike mother!” exclaimed Mollie
+O’Neill in a puzzled fashion.
+
+“Surely she must know that it is quite out of the question for us to do
+what she asks,” Betty went on, as if continuing her friend’s sentence.
+“She understands that we have just come to the cabin and that we have
+promised to take the best kind of care of Angel and Cricket with Dr.
+Barton’s assistance. Of course, Mollie, you may have to do what your
+mother says, but do please make her understand that it is impossible for
+me. I wish she was not so insistent, though, it makes it dreadfully
+difficult to refuse. Does your letter say that you must leave for New
+York City as early as possible tomorrow and join your mother at the
+Astor Hotel?”
+
+Mollie nodded, still frowning. “If mother wished us to go to New York
+with her on business, or pleasure, or for whatever reason, I cannot see
+why she did not wait and let us all go together tomorrow. I simply can’t
+see why she should rush off this morning as her letter says and leave us
+to follow the next day. But I suppose if you can get some one to stay on
+here at the cabin with you, dear, that I must do as mother asks. You
+see, she writes that it is a matter of great importance that has called
+her away and that she is relying on my being with her.”
+
+Reading her own letter for the second time, Betty folded it thoughtfully
+and replaced it inside the envelope. “Of course you must go, Mollie,
+without a shadow of a doubt,” she answered positively. “Rose and Faith
+will come out here and stay for a few days and Dr. Barton will be with
+them at night. I shall be rather glad to have them know Angel better; it
+might help her in a good many ways. The thing that troubles me is
+whether I ought to go with you. You see your mother also writes that she
+is relying on having me with her as well. Though she does not give me
+her reason, still she is very positive. She says that my coming to New
+York at the present time will mean a great deal to me personally, and
+moreover she particularly desires me to be with you.” Betty slowly shook
+her head. “I don’t see exactly how I can refuse; do you, Mollie? I don’t
+believe your mother has ever been really angry with me in my life and I
+should so hate her to be now. Besides I think it would be rather fun to
+go, and of course Rose would look after things for a few days.”
+
+“Then it is decided?” and Mollie breathed a sigh of mingled relief and
+pleasure. “Well, I must go in at once and telephone Billy and ask him to
+look up time-tables and things. Mother has sent me a check big enough to
+pay our expenses if you do not happen to have the money at the cabin
+with you.”
+
+All the hours following that evening and in the early morning were too
+busy with preparations and explanations to allow of much conjecture; yet
+in the back of their minds both girls were trying to work out the same
+problem.
+
+What conceivable thing could have happened to make Mrs. Wharton summon
+them to New York in this odd fashion? Could it have anything to do with
+Polly? But if Polly had been taken suddenly ill, would Mrs. Wharton not
+have given them some slight warning, some preparation for the shock that
+might lie ahead of them? Yet it was idle to make vain guesses or to
+worry without cause. In a short while Mrs. Wharton would, of course,
+explain the whole situation.
+
+As passengers on the earliest afternoon train that left Woodford for New
+York City next day, Mollie and Betty had already forgotten their first
+opposition to this journey to New York. All at once it appeared like a
+very delightful and natural excursion. If Mrs. Wharton had occasion to
+spend several days in New York what more agreeable than spending the
+time with her? There would be the shops and theaters to visit and a
+glimpse at the new spring fashions. Moreover, Betty did not altogether
+object to the idea of possibly seeing John Everett. They were old
+friends and his open admiration and attention meant a great deal to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV—“Little Old New York”
+
+
+Mrs. Wharton did not seem to consider that an explanation was imperative
+immediately upon the arrival of the two girls in New York. At the
+Forty-second street station she met them in a taxi, and certainly in
+traveling to their hotel through the usual exciting crush of motors,
+carriages and people there was no opportunity for serious questioning.
+
+They were to go to a musical as soon as dinner was over and there was
+just sufficient time to dress. So Betty went almost at once to her own
+room adjoining Mrs. Wharton’s, while Mollie occupied the room with her
+mother.
+
+Once while Mrs. Wharton was adjusting the drapery on a new frock which
+she had purchased for her daughter only that afternoon, Mollie turned
+toward her mother with her blue eyes suddenly serious. Up to that
+instant she had been too much absorbed in her frock to think of anything
+else.
+
+“Why in the world, mother, did you send for us to join you in New York
+so unexpectedly? If you were thinking of coming, why did you not motor
+out and tell us? Or you might at least have telephoned,” she said.
+
+Mrs. Wharton’s face was not visible, as she was engaged for the moment
+in the study of the new gown. “I made up my mind quite hurriedly, dear.
+There was nothing I could explain over the telephone. Besides, I have
+heard you and Betty say a dozen times that nothing gave you as much
+pleasure as a trip taken without any special discussion or preparation.
+Don’t you think we will have a charming time, just the three of us,
+dining at the different hotels, going to the theaters? I believe one
+calls it ‘doing New York.’ But hurry, now, and finish fixing your hair.
+I must go and see if I can be of any assistance to the Princess.” And
+Mrs. Wharton hurried off without even attempting to answer her
+daughter’s question.
+
+Almost the same result followed a more deliberate attempt at
+cross-examination which took place at breakfast the following morning.
+This time both Mollie and Betty started forth as determined questioners.
+Why had they been summoned so suddenly to New York? What was the very
+important reason for their presence? It was all very charming, of
+course, and frankly both girls were delighted with the opportunity that
+had been given them. Still they both thought it only natural and fair
+that they should be offered some solution to the puzzle of their
+mysterious and hasty letters.
+
+Mrs. Wharton only laughed and shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly,
+in a manner always suggestive of Polly. She did not see why she had to
+be taken to task so seriously because of an agreeable invitation. Had
+she said that there was some urgent reason for her request? Well, was it
+not sufficient that she wished the society of the two girls?
+
+Then deliberately picking up the morning paper Mrs. Wharton refused to
+listen to any further remarks addressed to her. A few moments
+afterwards, observing that her companions had wandered from their
+original topic and were criticizing the appearance of a young woman a
+few tables away, a smile suddenly crumpled the corners of her mouth.
+
+“Mollie, Betty, there are the most wonderful advertisements in the
+papers this morning of amazing bargains. Mollie, you and I both need new
+opera cloaks dreadfully and Mr. Wharton has said we might both have
+them. Of course we will shop all morning, but what shall we do tonight?
+Go to the theater, I suppose. When country people are in town an evening
+not spent at the theater is almost a wasted one.”
+
+Mollie laughed. “This from mother!” she exclaimed. “Think what you used
+to tell poor Polly about the wickedness of things theatrical! But of
+course I should rather go than do anything else.”
+
+Mrs. Wharton glanced toward Betty, who appeared to be blushing slightly
+without apparent cause.
+
+“I am afraid I can’t go with you, if you don’t mind,” she explained.
+“You see I promised John Everett that I would see him tonight. He wrote
+asking me to give him my first evening, but I thought it better to make
+it the second.”
+
+“Well, bring John along with us, Betty dear,” Mrs. Wharton returned. “I
+should like very much to have him and besides I don’t believe I should
+like you to go out with him alone in New York or to see him here at the
+hotel unless I am with you. People are more conventional here, dear,
+than in a small place.”
+
+Betty nodded. “Of course, we shall be delighted to be with you. What
+play shall we see?”
+
+Thoughtfully Mrs. Wharton picked up for the second time the temporarily
+discarded paper and commenced studying the list of theatrical
+attractions.
+
+“There is a little Irish play that has been running here in New York for
+about a month that is a great success,” she said. “I think I should very
+much like to see it if you girls don’t mind. It is called Moira. I hope
+we shall be able to get good seats.”
+
+The little party of three did not get back to the hotel until after tea
+time that afternoon and were then compelled to lie down, as they were
+completely worn out from shopping. But fatigue made no difference in the
+interest of the toilets which the girls made for the evening. John
+Everett had been invited to dinner as well, and most unexpectedly Mr.
+Wharton had telegraphed that he was running down from Woodford for
+twenty-four hours and was bringing Billy Webster along with him. They
+would probably manage to arrive at about eight o’clock and would dress
+as quickly as possible. Dinner was not to be delayed on their account.
+They expected to dine on the train.
+
+Of course Betty had promptly yielded to temptation and bought herself a
+new evening frock before the shopping expedition had been under way two
+hours. Mrs. Wharton had bought Mollie a charming one only the day before
+and was now buying her an opera coat to make the toilet complete. It was
+extravagant; Betty fully appreciated her own weakness. Was she not at
+great expense keeping Sunrise cabin open and looking after her two new
+friends? However, she had not been to New York for months and would
+probably not be there again in a longer time and the frock was a rare
+bargain and should not be overlooked. But every woman and girl
+thoroughly understands the arguments that must be gone through
+conscientiously before yielding to the sure temptation of clothes.
+
+Assuredly Betty felt no pangs of conscience when she looked at herself
+in the mirror a few moments before dinner time and just as she was about
+to join her friends. The dress was simple and not expensive, white crepe
+de Chine with a tunic of chiffon, adorned with a wide corn-colored
+girdle and little chiffon roses of the same shade, bordering the neck
+and elbow sleeves. Betty wore a bunch of violets at her waist. Mollie
+was in pure white, which was particularly becoming to her because of her
+dark hair and fair skin.
+
+But although the two girls had never looked prettier and although Mrs.
+Wharton was now past forty, a number of persons, seeing the little
+party, might have thought her the best-looking of the three. For even in
+her early girlhood, when she had been the recognized belle of Woodford,
+never had she seemed more radiant, more full of vitality and happiness.
+She wore a curious blue and silver silk dress with a diamond ornament in
+her beautiful gray hair.
+
+All during dinner both Mollie and Betty discovered themselves gazing at
+Mrs. Wharton admiringly and with some wonder. For not only was she
+looking handsomer than usual, but seemed to be in the gayest spirits.
+Neither John Everett nor the girls had the opportunity for much
+conversation, as Mrs. Wharton absorbed the greater part of it.
+
+However, after Billy and Mr. Wharton had joined them, the four young
+people drove together to the theater, Mr. and Mrs. Wharton following in
+a second cab.
+
+The theater party was by this time such a large one, that, although
+there had been no mention made of it beforehand, no one was surprised at
+being shown a box instead of orchestra seats. However, the fact that the
+box was already occupied by two other figures was a tremendous surprise
+to Mollie and Betty.
+
+One of them was a tall young man with black hair, a singularly well-cut
+though rather pale face, and handsome hazel eyes. The other was a girl,
+rather under medium height, with light hair and a figure as expressive
+of strength and quiet determination as her face.
+
+“Why, Sylvia Wharton, what on earth has brought you to New York at such
+a time?” Mollie O’Neill demanded, throwing her arm affectionately around
+her step-sister’s waist and drawing her into the rear of the box. “I
+didn’t think any power on earth could persuade you to leave those
+dreadful studies of yours so near examination time!”
+
+“Oh, I am one of mother’s surprises for you in New York!” Sylvia replied
+as calmly as though she had always known the whole story of the two
+girls’ unexpected journey. Calmness was ever a trait of Sylvia’s
+character.
+
+Mollie was so excited by this unlooked-for meeting with her younger
+sister that she would give no one else a chance to speak to her. The
+girls and their two escorts had arrived before Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, and
+it was therefore Mollie’s place to have welcomed their second guest or
+at least to have spoken to him.
+
+Under the circumstances Betty Ashton found herself compelled to offer
+her hand to Anthony Graham before any one else seemed aware of his
+presence. She was surprised to see him, she explained, yet very glad he
+happened to be in town for the evening. Betty was polite, certainly;
+still, no one could have exactly accused her of cordiality. Therefore
+Anthony was not sorry that the arrival of his host and hostess at this
+instant spared her from further effort.
+
+The evening was apparently to continue one of surprises. For no sooner
+had Mrs. Wharton’s party seated themselves in their box than Mollie
+touched Betty and Sylvia lightly with her fan.
+
+“See, dears,” she whispered, “look straight across the theater at the
+box opposite us. There is Margaret Adams and that good-looking Mr. Hunt,
+who used to be a friend of Polly’s.” Mollie turned to her mother. “Did
+you know Miss Adams was in New York? I thought she and Mr. Hunt were
+still acting.”
+
+Mrs. Wharton shook her head. “No, dear, their tour ended a week or more
+ago. Miss Adams is here in New York resting. She will not play again
+until next fall, I believe. Yes, I have seen her once since I came to
+town. But don’t talk, I wish to study my program.”
+
+With this suggestion both Mollie and Betty glanced for an instant at the
+list of characters in the center of their books of the play. Peggy Moore
+was the star of the performance. She was a young actress who must have
+earned her reputation quite recently, for no one had heard of her until
+a short while before.
+
+The bell rang for the raising of the curtain and at the same time
+Margaret Adams blew a kiss to the girls from behind her fan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI—“Moira”
+
+
+The first scene of the play opened upon a handsome New York drawing
+room, where preparations were evidently being made for a ball, for the
+room was filled with flowers, and servants were seen walking in and out,
+completing the final arrangements. Within a few moments two girls
+wearing dainty tea gowns, stole quietly down the stairway and stood in
+the center of the stage, discussing their approaching entertainment.
+They were both pretty and fashionable young women, evidently about
+eighteen and twenty-one. From their conversation it soon became evident
+that they were of plain origin and making a desperate effort to secure a
+place for themselves among the “smart set” in New York City. Moreover,
+they were spending more money than they should in the effort. The father
+had been an Irish politician, but, as he had died several years before,
+no outsiders knew the extent of the family fortune. Upon the horizon
+there was a friend upon whom much depended. He was evidently a member of
+an old New York family and of far better social standing than the rest
+of their acquaintances; moreover, he was wealthy, handsome and agreeable
+and had paid the older of the two sisters, Kate, somewhat marked
+attention.
+
+When after a few moments’ delay the second scene was revealed the ball
+had already begun. The stage setting was remarkably beautiful, the
+costumes charming and the dialogue clever. Yet so far the play had no
+poignant interest, so that now and then Betty found her attention
+wandering.
+
+What could have made this little play such a pronounced success that the
+dramatic critics had been almost universal in their praise of it? she
+wondered. What special charm did it have which crowded the theater every
+evening as it was crowded tonight? It was only a frivolous society drama
+of a kind that must have been acted many times before.
+
+Behind her lace handkerchief Betty gracefully concealed a yawn. Then she
+glanced across the theater toward Margaret Adams’ box, hoping she might
+catch another smile or nod from the great lady. But Miss Adams was
+leaning forward with her figure tense with interest and her eyes
+fastened in eager expectancy upon a door at the rear of the stage. Back
+of her, and it seemed to Betty even at this distance, that his face
+looked unusually white and strained, stood Richard Hunt. Assuredly he
+seemed as intent upon the play as Miss Adams.
+
+Betty stared at the stage again. A dance had just ended, the guests were
+separating into groups and standing about talking. But a timid knock now
+sounded on the door which apparently no one heard. A moment later this
+door is slowly opened. There followed a murmur of excitement, a little
+electric thrill passing through the audience so that unexpectedly Betty
+found her own pulses tingling with interest and excitement. What a goose
+she had been! Surely she had heard half a dozen times at least that the
+success of this new play was entirely due to the charm and talent of the
+young actress, Peggy Moore, who took the part of the heroine.
+
+At the open door the newcomer was seen hesitating. No one noticed her,
+then she walked timidly forward and stood alone in the center of the
+stage, one of the most appealing, delicious and picturesque of figures
+in the world of fiction or reality.
+
+The girl was wearing an absurd costume, a bright red blouse, open at the
+throat, a plaid skirt too short for the slender legs beneath it and a
+big flapping straw hat decorated with a single rose. In one hand she
+carried an old-fashioned carpet bag and in the other a tiny Maltese
+kitten. The girl had two long braids of black hair that hung below her
+waist, scarlet lips, a white imploring face and wistful, humorous,
+tender blue eyes.
+
+Betty was growing cold to the tips of her fingers, although her face
+flushed until it felt almost painful. Then she overheard a queer,
+half-restrained sound near her and the next instant Mrs. Wharton leaned
+forward from her place and placed a hand on her arm and on Mollie’s.
+
+“Yes, girls, it is Polly!” she whispered quietly, although with shining
+eyes. “But please, please don’t stir or do anything in the world to
+attract her attention. It was Polly’s own idea to surprise you like
+this, and yet she is dreadfully afraid that the sight of you may make
+her break down and forget her part. She is simply wonderful!”
+
+Naturally this was a mother’s opinion; however, nothing that Mrs.
+Wharton was saying was making the slightest impression, for neither
+Mollie nor Betty had heard a word.
+
+For Moira, the little Irish girl, had begun to speak and everybody on
+the stage was looking toward her, smiling and shrugging their shoulders,
+except the two daughters of the house and their fashionable mother.
+
+Moira had asked for her aunt, Mrs. Mulholland. She was not an emigrant
+maid-of-all-work, as the guests presumed her to be, but a niece of the
+wealthy household. She had crossed the ocean alone and was expecting a
+welcome from her relatives.
+
+At this point in the drama the hero came forward to the little Irish
+maid’s assistance. Then her aunt and cousins dared not display the anger
+they felt for this undesired guest. Later it was explained that Moira
+had been sent to New York by her old grandfather, who, fearing that he
+was about to die, wished the girl looked after by her relatives. Moira’s
+father had been the son that stayed behind in Ireland. He had been
+desperately poor and the grandfather was supposed to be equally so.
+Then, of course, followed the history of the child’s efforts to fit
+herself into the insincere and unkind household.
+
+Nothing remarkable in the story of the little play, surely, but
+everything in the art with which Polly O’Neill acted it!
+
+Tears and smiles, both in writing and acting: these are what the artist
+desires as his true recognition. And Polly seldom spoke half a dozen
+lines without receiving one or the other. Sometimes the smiles and tears
+crowded so close together that the one had not sufficient time to thrust
+the other away.
+
+“I didn’t dream the child had it in her: it is genius!” Margaret Adams
+whispered to her companion, when the curtain had finally fallen on the
+second act and she had leaned back in her chair with a sigh of mingled
+pleasure and relief.
+
+“She had my promise to say nothing until tonight. Yes, I have been in
+the secret since last winter.” Richard explained. “It was a blessed
+accident Polly’s finding just this particular kind of play. She could
+have played no other so well while still so young. You see, she was
+acting in a cheap stock company when a manager happened quite by chance
+to discover her. But she will want to tell you the story herself. I must
+not anticipate.”
+
+For a moment, instead of replying, Margaret Adams looked slightly
+amazed. “I did not know that you and Polly were such great friends,
+Richard, that she has preferred confiding in you to any one else,” she
+said at length.
+
+Richard Hunt had taken his seat and was now watching the unconcealed
+triumph and delight among the group of Polly’s family and friends in the
+box across the theater.
+
+“I wasn’t chosen; I was an accident,” the man smiled. “Last winter in
+Boston I met Polly—Miss O’Neill,” he corrected himself, “and she told me
+what she was trying to do, fight things out for herself without advice
+or assistance from any one of us. But, of course, after I was taken into
+her secret she allowed me to keep in touch with her now and then. The
+child was lonely and dreadfully afraid you and her other friends would
+not understand or forgive what she had tried to do.”
+
+“Polly is not exactly a child, Richard; she must be nearly twenty-two,”
+Margaret Adams replied quietly.
+
+In the final act the little Irish heroine had her hour of triumph. The
+hero had fallen in love with her instead of with the fashionable cousin.
+Yet Moira was not the pauper her relatives had believed her, for the old
+grandfather had recently died and his solicitor appeared with his will.
+The Irish township had purchased his acres of supposedly worthless land
+and Moira was proclaimed an heiress.
+
+At the end Polly was her gayest, most inimitable, laughing self. Half a
+dozen times Betty, Mollie and Sylvia found themselves forgetting that
+she was acting at all. How many times had they not known her just as
+wilful and charming, their Polly of a hundred swift, succeeding moods.
+
+Moira was not angry with any one in the world, certainly not with the
+cousins who had been almost cruel to her. During her stay among them she
+had learned of their need of money and was now quick to offer all that
+she had. She was so generous, so happy, and with it all so petulant and
+charming, that at last even the stern aunt and the envious cousins
+succumbed to her.
+
+Then the curtain descended on a very differently clad heroine, but one
+who was essentially unchanged. Moira was dressed in a white satin made
+in the latest and most exquisite fashion; and her black hair was
+beautifully arranged on her small, graceful head. Only the people who
+loved her could have dreamed that Polly O’Neill would ever look so
+pretty. And in one hand the girl was holding a single red rose, though
+under the other arm she was still clutching her beloved Maltese cat.
+
+“Polly will not answer any curtain calls tonight,” Mrs. Wharton
+whispered hurriedly when the last scene was over. “If the others will
+excuse us she has asked that only Sylvia, Betty and Mollie come to her
+room. Margaret Adams will be there, but no one else. She is very tired
+at the close of her performances, but she is afraid you girls may not
+forgive her long silence and her deception. Will you come this way with
+me?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII—A Reunion
+
+
+Next morning at half past ten o’clock Polly O’Neill was sitting upright
+in bed in the room at her hotel with Betty on one side, Mollie on the
+other and Sylvia at the foot, gazing rather searchingly upon the object
+of their present devotion.
+
+Polly was wearing a pale pink dressing jacket trimmed with a great deal
+of lace and evidently quite new. Indeed it had been purchased with the
+idea of celebrating this great occasion. The girl’s cheeks were as
+crimson as they had been on the stage the night before and her eyes were
+as shining. She was talking with great rapidity and excitement.
+
+“Yes, it is perfectly thrilling and delightful, Mollie Mavourneen, and I
+never was so happy in my life, now that you know all about me and are
+not really angry,” Polly exclaimed gayly. “But I can tell you it wasn’t
+all honey and roses last winter, working all alone and being lonely and
+homesick and miserable most of the time. No one praised me or sent me
+flowers then,” and the girl looked with perfectly natural vanity and
+satisfaction at the big box of roses that had just been opened and was
+still lying on her lap. On her bureau there were vases of fresh flowers
+and several other boxes on a nearby table.
+
+“Well, it must be worth any amount of hard work and unhappiness to be so
+popular and famous,” Mollie murmured, glancing with heartfelt admiration
+and yet with a little wistfulness at her twin sister. “Just think, Polly
+dear, we are exactly the same age and used to do almost the same things;
+and now you are a celebrated actress and I’m just nobody at all. I am
+sorry I used to be so opposed to your going on the stage. I think it
+perfectly splendid now.”
+
+With a laugh that had a slight quaver in it Polly threw an arm about her
+sister and hugged her close. “You silly darling, how you have always
+flattered me and how dearly I do love it!” she returned, looking with
+equal admiration at the soft roundness of Mollie’s girlish figure and
+the pretty dimples in her delicately pink cheeks. “I am not a celebrated
+actress in the least, sister of mine, just because I have succeeded in
+doing one little character part so that a few people, just a few people,
+like it. I do wonder what Margaret Adams thought of me. She did not say
+much last night. She is coming to see me presently, so I am desperately
+nervous over what she will say. One swallow does not make a career any
+more than it makes a summer. And as for daring to say you are nobody,
+Mollie O’Neill, I never heard such arrant nonsense in my life. For you
+know perfectly well that you are a thousand times prettier, more
+charming and more popular than I am, and everybody knows it except you.
+But, of course, you never have believed it in your life, you blessed
+little goose!” and Polly pinched her sister’s soft arm appreciatively.
+“I wish there was as much of me as there is of you for one thing, Mollie
+darling, your figure is a perfect dream and I’m nothing in the world but
+skin and bones,” Polly finished at last, drawing her dressing jacket
+more closely about her with a barely concealed shiver.
+
+From the foot of the bed Sylvia was eyeing her severely. “Yes, we had
+already noticed that without your mentioning it, Polly,” she remarked
+dryly.
+
+Her only answer was a careless shrugging of her thin shoulders, as Polly
+turned this time toward Betty.
+
+“What makes you so silent, Princess? You are not vexed with me and only
+said you were not angry last night to spare my feelings?” Polly asked
+more seriously than she had yet spoken. Even though Polly might believe
+that she loved her sister better, yet she realized that they could never
+so completely understand each other and never have perhaps quite the
+same degree of spiritual intimacy as she had with her friend.
+
+Betty took Polly’s outstretched hand and held it lightly.
+
+“I was only thinking of something; I beg your pardon, dear,” Betty
+replied quietly.
+
+Polly frowned. “You are not to think of anything or anybody except me
+today,” she demanded jealously. “You have had months and months to think
+about other people. This is the best of what I have been working
+for—just to have you girls with me like this, and have you praise me and
+make love to me as Mollie did. Yes, I understand I am being desperately
+vain and self-centered, Princess; so you may think it your duty to take
+me to task for it. But it is only because I have always been such a
+dreadful black sheep among all the other Camp Fire girls. Then I suppose
+it is also because we have been separated so long. Pretty soon I’ll have
+to go back to the work-a-day, critical old world where nobody really
+cares a thing about me and where ‘my career,’ as Mollie calls it, has
+scarcely begun. But please don’t make me do all the talking, Betty, it
+is so unlike me and I can see that Sylvia thinks I am saying far too
+much.” Here Polly’s apparently endless stream of conversation was
+interrupted by a fit of coughing, which took all the color from her
+cheeks, brought there by the morning’s excitement, and left her huddled
+up among her pillows pale and breathless, with Sylvia’s light blue eyes
+staring at her with a somewhat enigmatic expression.
+
+Betty smiled, however, pulling at one of the long braids of black hair
+with some severity. Last night it had seemed to her that Polly O’Neill
+was quite the most wonderful person in the world and that she could
+never feel exactly the same toward her, but must surely treat her with
+entirely new reverence and respect. Yet here she was, just as absurd and
+childish as ever and pleading for compliments as a child for sweets. No
+one could treat Polly O’Neill with great respect, though love her one
+must to the end of the chapter. She had a thousand faults, yet Betty
+knew that vanity was not one of them. It was simply because of her
+affection for her friends that she wished to find them pleased with her.
+In her heart of hearts no one was humbler than Polly. Betty at least
+understood that her ambition would never leave her satisfied with one
+success.
+
+“But I was thinking of you, my ridiculous Polly!” Betty answered
+finally. “I regret to state, however, that I was not for the moment
+dwelling on your great and glorious career. Naturally no other Sunrise
+Hill Camp Fire girl may ever hope to aspire so high. I was wondering
+whether your mother allowed you to wander around by yourself last
+winter, and, if she did, how you ever managed to take proper care of
+yourself.”
+
+“Dear me, hasn’t mother told you? Why of course I had a chaperon, child!
+Mollie, please ring the bell for me. She is a dear and is dreadfully
+anxious to meet all of you,” Polly explained. “But Sylvia took care of
+me too—would you mind not staring at me quite so hard all the time,
+Sylvia? I know I am better looking behind the footlights,” Polly now
+urged almost plaintively, for her younger sister was making her
+decidedly nervous by her continued scrutiny. “Betty, even you will
+hardly place me at the head of the theatrical profession at present,”
+she continued. “Though I am quite green with jealousy, I must tell you
+that Sylvia Wharton has stood at the head of her class in medicine, male
+and female, during this entire year and is confidently expected to come
+out first in her final examinations. I am abominably afraid that Sylvia
+may develop into a more distinguished Camp Fire girl in the end than I
+ever shall.”
+
+There was no further opportunity at present for further personal
+discussion, for at this instant a tall, dark-haired woman with somewhat
+timid manners entered the room, where she stood hesitating, glancing
+from one girl’s face to the other.
+
+“You know Sylvia, Mrs. Martins, so this is Mollie, whom you may
+recognize as being a good-looking likeness of me,” Polly began. “Of
+course this third person is necessarily Betty Ashton.”
+
+From her place on the bed Sylvia had smiled her greeting, but Mollie and
+Betty of course got up at once and walked forward to shake hands with
+the newcomer.
+
+Then unexpectedly and to Betty’s immense surprise, she found both of her
+hands immediately clasped in an ardent embrace by the stranger, while
+the woman gazed at her with her lips trembling and the tears streaming
+unchecked down her face.
+
+“How shall I ever thank you or make you understand?” she said
+passionately. “All my life long I can never repay what you have done for
+me, but at least I shall never forget it.”
+
+Betty pressed the newcomer’s hand politely, turning from her to Polly,
+hoping that she might in her friend’s expression find some clue to this
+puzzling utterance. Polly appeared just as rapt and mysterious.
+
+“You are awfully kind and I am most happy to meet you,” Betty felt
+called on to reply, “but I am afraid you must have mistaken me for some
+one else. It is I who owe gratitude to you for having taken such good
+care of Polly.”
+
+The Princess was gracious and sweet in her manner, but she could hardly
+be expected not to have drawn back slightly from such an extraordinary
+greeting from a stranger.
+
+“Oh, my dear, I ought to have explained to you. You must forgive me, it
+is because I feel so deeply and that the people of my race cannot always
+control their emotions so readily,” the older woman protested. “It is my
+little girl, for whom you have done such wonderful things. She has
+written me that she is almost happy now that you have become her fairy
+princess. And in truth you are quite lovely enough,” the stranger
+continued, believing that at last she was making herself clear.
+
+“I? Your little girl?” Betty repeated stupidly. “You don’t mean you are
+Angelique’s mother? But of course you are. Now I can see that you look
+like each other and your name is ‘Martins.’ It is curious, but I paid no
+attention to your name at first and never associated you with my little
+French girl.” Now it was Betty’s turn to find her voice shaking, partly
+from pleasure and also from embarrassment. “It was a beautiful accident,
+wasn’t it, for Angelique and I, and you and Polly to find each other?
+But you have nothing to thank me for, Mrs. Martins. Angel has given me
+more pleasure than I can ever give her. She has been so wonderful since
+she found something in life to interest her. Won’t you come to the cabin
+with me right away and see her? Mollie and Mrs. Wharton can surely look
+after Polly for a few days; besides she never does what any one tells
+her.”
+
+Suddenly Betty let go her companion’s hand, swinging around toward the
+elfish figure in the bed. For Polly did look elfish at this moment, with
+her knees huddled up almost to her chin and her head resting on her
+hand. Her eyes were almost all one could see of her face at present,
+they looked so absurdly large and so darkly blue.
+
+Betty seized the girl by both shoulders, giving her a tiny shake.
+
+“Polly O’Neill, did you write me those anonymous letters about Angel
+last winter? Oh, of course you did! But what a queer muddle it all is! I
+don’t understand, for Angel told me that she had never heard of Polly
+O’Neill in her entire life until I spoke of you.”
+
+“And no more she has, Princess,” returned Polly smiling. “Everybody sit
+down and be good, please, while I explain things as far as I understand
+them. You see Mrs. Martins and I met each other at the theater one
+evening where she had come to do some wonderful sewing for some one.
+Well, of course my clothes were in rags, for with all our Camp Fire
+training I never learned much about the gentle art of stitching. So Mrs.
+Martins promised to do some work for me and by and by we got to knowing
+each other pretty well. One day I found her crying, and then she told me
+about her little girl. A friend had offered to send Angelique to this
+hospital in Boston and Mrs. Martins felt she must let her go, as she
+could not make enough money to keep them comfortable. Besides Angelique
+needed special care and treatment. Of course she realized it was best
+for her little girl, yet they were horribly grieved over being
+separated.
+
+“Just at this time, Miss Brown, whom mother had persuaded to travel with
+me all winter, got terribly tired of her job. So I asked Mrs. Martins if
+she cared to come with me. When she and mother learned to know and like
+each other things were arranged.
+
+“Afterwards the heavenly powers must have sent you to that hospital,
+Betty dear, otherwise there is no accounting for it. Pretty soon after
+your first visit Angel wrote her mother describing a lovely lady with
+auburn hair, gray eyes and the most charming manner in the world, who
+had been to the hospital to see them, but had only said a few words to
+her. Yes, I know you think that is queer, Betty, but please remember
+that though Angelique knew her mother was traveling with an eccentric
+young female, she did not know my real name. I was Peggy Moore to her
+always, just as I was to you until last night. Can’t you understand? Of
+course I knew you were in Boston with Esther and Dick, and besides there
+could be only one Betty Ashton in the world answering to your
+description. Then, of course, Mrs. Martins and I both wanted to write
+and explain things to you dreadfully, yet at the same time I did not
+wish you to guess where I was or what I was doing. So I persuaded Mrs.
+Martins to wait; at the same time I did write you these silly anonymous
+letters, for I was so anxious for you to be particularly interested in
+Angel. I might have known you would have been anyway, you dearest of
+princesses and best,” whispered Polly so earnestly that Betty drew away
+from her friend’s embrace, her cheeks scarlet.
+
+“I am going to another room with Mrs. Martins to have a long talk,
+Polly, while you rest,” Betty answered the next moment. “Mrs. Wharton
+said that we were not to stay with you but an hour and a half and it has
+been two already. You will want to be at your best when Margaret Adams
+comes to see you this afternoon.”
+
+“If you mean in the best of health, Betty,” Sylvia remarked at this
+instant, as she got down somewhat awkwardly from her seat on the bed,
+“then I might as well tell you that Polly O’Neill is far from being even
+ordinarily well. She has not been well all winter; but now, with the
+excitement and strain of her first success, she is utterly used up. All
+I can say is that if she does not quit this acting business and go
+somewhere and have a real rest, well, we shall all be sorry some day,”
+and with this unexpected announcement Sylvia stalked calmly out of the
+room, leaving three rather frightened women and one exceedingly angry
+one behind her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII—Home Again
+
+
+“But, my beloved mother, you really can’t expect such a sacrifice of me.
+There isn’t anything else in the world you could ask that I would not
+agree to, but even you must see that this is out of the question.”
+
+It was several days later and Polly was in her small sitting room with
+her mother and Sylvia.
+
+“Besides it is absurd and wicked of Sylvia to have frightened you so and
+I shan’t forgive her, even if she has been good as gold to me all her
+life. How can I give up my part and go away from New York just when I am
+beginning to be a tiny bit successful?” Then, overcome with sympathy for
+herself, Polly cast herself down in a heap upon a small sofa and with
+her face buried in the sofa cushions burst into tears.
+
+Mrs. Wharton walked nervously up and down the room.
+
+“I know it is dreadfully hard for you, dear, and I do realize how much I
+am asking, even if you don’t think so, Polly,” she replied. “Besides you
+must not be angry with Sylvia. Of course I have not taken the child’s
+opinion alone, clever as she is. Two physicians have seen you in the
+last few days, as you know, and they have both given me the same
+opinion. You are on the verge of a nervous breakdown. If you will give
+up now it may not be serious, but if you will insist upon going on with
+your work no one will answer for the consequences. It is only a matter
+of a few weeks, my dear. I have seen your manager and he is willing to
+agree to your stopping as long as it is absolutely necessary. Perhaps
+you may be well enough to start in again in the fall. Isn’t it wiser to
+stop now for a short rest than to have to give up altogether later on?”
+she urged consolingly.
+
+As there was no answer from Polly, Mrs. Wharton’s own eyes also filled
+with tears. At the same moment Sylvia came up to her step-mother and
+patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. It was odd, but Sylvia rarely
+expressed affection by kissing or the embraces common among most girls.
+Yet in her somewhat shy caresses there was fully as deep feeling.
+
+“Don’t worry, mother, things will turn out all right,” she now said
+reassuringly. “Of course it is pretty hard on Polly. Even I appreciate
+that. But it is silly of her to protest against the inevitable. She will
+save herself a lot of strength if she only finds that out some day. But
+I’ll leave you together, since my being here only makes her more
+obstinate than ever.”
+
+As Sylvia was crossing the floor a sofa cushion was thrown violently at
+her from the apparently grief-stricken figure on the sofa. But while
+Mrs. Wharton looked both grieved and shocked Sylvia only laughed. Was
+there ever such another girl as her step-sister? Here she was at one
+instant weeping bitterly at the wrecking of her career, as she thought,
+and the next shying sofa cushions like a naughty child.
+
+Once Sylvia was safely out of the way, Polly again sat upright on the
+sofa, drawing her mother down beside her. It was just as well that
+Sylvia had departed, for she was the one person in the world whom Polly
+had never been able to influence, or turn from her own point of view, by
+any amount of argument or persuasion. With her mother alone her task
+would be easier. Nevertheless Mrs. Wharton appeared singularly
+determined and Polly remembered that there had been occasions when her
+mother’s decision must be obeyed.
+
+However, she was no longer a child, and although it would make her
+extremely miserable to appear both obstinate and unloving, it might in
+this single instance be absolutely necessary. How much had she not
+already endured to gain this slight footing in her profession? Now to
+turn her back on it in the midst of her first success, because a few
+persons had made up their minds that she was ill,—well, any sensible or
+reasonable human being must understand that it was quite out of the
+question.
+
+So the discussion continued between the woman and girl, the same
+arguments being repeated over and over, the same pleading, and yet
+without arriving at any sort of conclusion. There is no knowing how long
+this might have kept up if there had not come a sudden knocking at the
+door.
+
+Opening it the boy outside handed Mrs. Wharton a card.
+
+“It is Mr. Hunt who has come to see you, Polly; shall I say you are not
+well? Or what shall I say? Of course it is out of the question for you
+to see any stranger, child. You have been crying until your face is
+swollen and your hair is in dreadful confusion,” Mrs. Wharton protested
+anxiously.
+
+Polly unexpectedly scrambled to her feet. “Ask Mr. Hunt to wait a few
+minutes, please, mother, and then we will telephone down and tell him to
+come up. You see I had an engagement with him this afternoon and don’t
+like to refuse to see him. For once it is a good thing I have no
+pretensions to beauty like Betty and Mollie. Moreover, mother, I am
+obliged to confess to you that Mr. Hunt has seen me before, not only
+after I had been weeping, but while I was engaged in the act. You know
+he was about the only friend I saw all last winter, when I was so blue
+and discouraged with life. Besides, I am sure he will understand my
+point of view in this dreadful discussion we have just been having and
+will help me to convince you.”
+
+Five minutes afterwards the celebrated Miss Polly O’Neill had restored
+her hair and costume to some semblance of order, although her eyes were
+still somewhat red and heavy, as well as her nose. Nevertheless she
+greeted her visitor without particular embarrassment. Mrs. Wharton,
+however, could not pull herself together so readily; so after a few
+moments of conventional conversation she asked to be excused and went
+away, leaving her daughter and guest alone.
+
+Fifteen minutes passed, half an hour, finally an entire hour. All this
+while Mrs. Wharton, remaining in her daughter’s bedroom which adjoined
+the sitting room, could hear the sound of two voices.
+
+Of course Polly did the greater share of the talking, but now and then
+Richard Hunt would speak for several moments at a time and afterwards
+there would be odd intervals of silence.
+
+Mrs. Wharton could not hear what was being said, and she scarcely wished
+to return to the sitting room. She was still far too worried and
+nervous, although, having an engagement that must be kept, she wished to
+say good-by to Polly before leaving the hotel.
+
+Richard Hunt rose immediately upon Mrs. Wharton’s entrance.
+
+“I am ever so sorry to have made such a long visit,” he apologized at
+once, “and I hope I have not interfered with you. Only Miss O’Neill and
+I have been having a pretty serious and important talk and I did not
+realize how much time had passed.”
+
+Polly’s eyes had been fastened upon something in the far distance. Now
+she glanced toward her guest.
+
+“Oh, you need not apologize to mother for the length of your stay. When
+she hears what we have been discussing she will be more than grateful to
+you,” Polly interrupted.
+
+“You see, mother, Mr. Hunt does not agree with me, as I thought he
+would. Who ever has agreed with me in this tiresome world? He also
+thinks that I must stop acting at once and go away with you, if my
+family and the doctors think it necessary. And he has frightened me
+terribly with stories of people who have nervous breakdowns and never
+recover. People who never remember the lines in their plays again or
+what part they are expected to act. So I surrender, dear. I’ll go away
+with you as soon as things can be arranged wherever you wish to take
+me.” And Polly held up both her hands with an intended expression of
+saintliness, which was not altogether successful.
+
+“Bravo!” Richard Hunt exclaimed quietly.
+
+Mrs. Wharton extended her hand.
+
+“I am more grateful to you than I can express. You have saved us all
+from a great deal of unhappiness and I believe you have saved Polly from
+more than she understands,” she added.
+
+The girl took her mother’s hand, touching it lightly with her lips.
+“Please don’t tell Mr. Hunt what my family think of my obstinacy,” she
+pleaded. “Because if you do, he will either have no respect for me or
+else will have too much for himself because I gave in to him,” she said
+saucily.
+
+Yet it was probably ten minutes after Mr. Hunt’s departure before it
+occurred to Mrs. Wharton to be surprised over Polly’s unexpected
+surrender to a comparative stranger, when she had refused to be
+influenced by any member of her own family.
+
+But now the question of chief importance was where should Polly go for
+her much needed rest? It was her own decision finally that rather than
+any other place in the world she preferred to return to Woodford to
+spend the summer months in the old cabin near Sunrise Hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX—Illusions Swept Away
+
+
+It was a golden July afternoon two months later when all nature was a
+splendid riot of color and perfume. In a hammock under a group of pine
+trees a girl lay half asleep. Now and then she would open her eyes to
+glance at the lazy white clouds overhead. Then she would look with
+perhaps closer attention at the figure of another girl who was seated a
+few yards away.
+
+If the girl in the hammock was dreaming, her companion fitted oddly into
+her dream. She was dressed in a simple white muslin frock and her hair
+had a band of soft blue ribbon tied about it. In her lap lay an open
+book, but no page had been turned in the last fifteen minutes and indeed
+she was quieter than her friend who was supposed to be asleep.
+
+“Betty,” a voice called softly, “bring your chair nearer to me. I have
+done my duty nobly for the past two hours and have not spoken a single,
+solitary word. So even the sternest of doctors and nurses can’t say I am
+unfaithful to my rest cure. Besides it is absurd, now when I am as well
+as any one else. Yes, that is much better, Betty, and you are, please,
+to gaze directly into my face while I am talking to you. I haven’t liked
+your fashion lately of staring off into space, as you were doing just
+recently and indeed on all occasions when you believe no one is paying
+any special attention to you.”
+
+With a low curtsey Betty did as she was commanded. She even knelt down
+on the ground beside the hammock to look the more directly into the eyes
+of her friend. But as she continued, unexpectedly a slow color crept
+into her cheeks from her throat upwards until it had flushed her entire
+face.
+
+“I declare, Polly,” she exclaimed jumping to her feet abruptly and
+sitting down in her chair again, “you make me feel as though I had
+committed some offence, though I do assure you I have been as good as
+gold, so far as I know, for a long, long time.”
+
+Polly was silent a moment. “You know perfectly well, Betty, that I don’t
+think you have done anything wrong. You need not use that excuse to try
+and deceive me, dear, because it does not make the slightest impression.
+The truth is, Betty, that you have a secret that you are keeping from me
+and from every one else so far as I know. Of course there isn’t any
+reason why you should confide in me if you don’t wish. You may be
+punishing me for my lack of confidence in you last winter.”
+
+This last statement was possibly made with a double intention. Betty
+responded to it instantly.
+
+“Surely, Polly, you must know that would not make the slightest
+difference,” she returned earnestly. And then the next instant, as if
+fearing that she might have betrayed herself: “But what in the world
+makes you think I am cherishing a secret, you absurd Polly? I suppose
+you have had to have something to think about these past two months,
+when you have spent so much time lying down. Well, when I see how you
+have improved I am quite willing to have been your victim.”
+
+With a quick motion the other girl now managed to sit upright, piling
+her sofa cushions behind her. Her color was certainly sufficiently vivid
+at this instant. But indeed she was so improved in every way that one
+would hardly have known her for the Polly O’Neill of the past year’s
+trials and successes. Her figure was almost rounded, her chin far less
+pointed and all the lines of fatigue and nervous strain had vanished
+from her face. But Polly’s temper had not so materially changed!
+
+“It isn’t worth while to accuse me of having tried to spy into your
+private affairs, Princess,” she replied haughtily. “But if you do feel
+that I have, then I ask your pardon for now and all times. I shall never
+be so offensive again.”
+
+There followed a vast and complete human silence. Then Polly got up from
+her resting place and went and put her arm quietly about her friend.
+
+“Princess, I would rather that the stars should fall or the world come
+to an end, than have you really angry with me,” she murmured. “But you
+know I did not mean to offend you by asking you to confide in me, don’t
+you? Anyway I promise never, never to ask you again. Here, let me have
+the Woodford paper, please. I believe Billy brought us the afternoon
+edition. I wonder if he and Mollie will be gone on their boating
+expedition for long? They must have been around the lake half a dozen
+times already.”
+
+As though dismissing the subject of their past conversation entirely
+from her mind, Polly, resuming her hammock, now buried herself in the
+columns of the Woodford Gazette. Apparently she had not observed that no
+reply had been made either to her accusation or apology. She could see
+that Betty was not seriously angry, which was the main thing.
+
+“Get out your embroidery, Princess, and let me read the news aloud to
+you;” she demanded next. “I love to watch you sew. It is not because you
+do it so particularly well, but because you always manage to look like a
+picture in a book. Funny thing, dear, why you have such a different
+appearance from the rest of us. Oh, I am not saying that probably other
+girls are not as pretty as you are, Mollie and Meg for instance. But you
+have a different look somehow. No wonder Angel thinks you are a fairy
+princess.”
+
+But at this moment an unexpected choking sound, that seemed in some
+fashion to have come forth from Betty, interrupted the flow of her
+friend’s compliments.
+
+“Please don’t, Polly,” she pleaded. “You know I love your Irish blarney
+most of the time beyond anything in this world. But now I want to tell
+you something. I have had a kind of a secret for over a year, but it is
+past now and I’m dreadfully sorry if you believe you find a change in me
+that you don’t like. I suppose sometimes I do feel rather blue simply
+because I am of so little account in the world. Please don’t think I am
+jealous, but you and Sylvia and Nan and Meg are all doing things and
+Esther and Edith and Eleanor are married and Mollie helps her mother
+with your big house. I believe Beatrice and Judith are both at college,
+though we have been separated from them for such a long time. So you see
+I am the only good-for-nothing in the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire
+circle.”
+
+“Yes, I see,” was the somewhat curt reply from behind the outspread
+paper.
+
+“Mrs. Martins told me yesterday that the surgeons Dr. Barton brought to
+see Angelique think she may be able to walk in another year or so and I
+believe Cricket is to give up her crutches altogether in a few months,”
+Polly presently remarked.
+
+In the sunshine Betty Ashton’s face shone with happiness. “Yes, isn’t it
+wonderful?” she remarked innocently.
+
+“Of course, doing beautiful things for other people isn’t being of the
+slightest use in the world,” the other girl continued, as though talking
+to herself. “Yet Mrs. Martins also said yesterday, that she and
+Angelique believed they had strayed into Paradise they were so happy
+here at the cabin with the prospect of Angel’s growing better ahead of
+them. And I believe Cricket dances and sings with every step she takes
+nowadays.”
+
+“But I?” interrupted Betty.
+
+“No, of course you have had nothing in the world to do with it and I
+never accused you for a single instant,” her friend argued, and then
+Polly fell to reading the paper aloud.
+
+“‘The friends of Doctor and Mrs. Richard Ashton, now of Boston,
+Massachusetts, but formerly of Woodford, New Hampshire, will be
+delighted to hear of the birth of their son, Richard Jr., on July the
+fourteenth.’ How does it feel to be an aunt?” the reader demanded.
+
+“Delicious,” Betty sighed, and then began dreaming of her new nephew,
+wondering when she was to be allowed to see him, until Polly again
+interfered with her train of thought.
+
+“‘Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wharton entertained at dinner last night in their
+new home in honor of Mr. Anthony Graham, our brilliant young congressman
+who has returned to Woodford for a few days.’ Well, I like that!” Polly
+protested. “Think of Frank and Eleanor daring to give a dinner party and
+asking none of their other old friends or relatives. They must feel set
+up at being married before the rest of us.”
+
+For the first time Betty now actually took a few industrious stitches in
+her embroidery. “Oh, they probably did not have but two or three guests.
+You know how papers exaggerate things, Pollykins, I would not be so
+easily offended with my relations,” she protested.
+
+“No, but you used to be such an intimate friend of Anthony Graham’s. Do
+you know I look upon him as one of your good works, Betty? I wonder if
+he will condescend to come to the cabin to see us, now he is such a busy
+and distinguished person. Is he as much a friend of yours now as he used
+to be?”
+
+Unexpectedly Betty’s thread broke, so that she was forced to make
+another knot before replying.
+
+“Friend of mine? No, yes; well, that is we are friendly, of course, only
+Anthony has grown so fond of Meg Everett lately that he has not much
+time for any one else. But please don’t speak of anything I ever did for
+him, Polly. I beg it of you as a special favor. In the first place it
+was so ridiculously little and in the second I think it pretty hard on
+Anthony to have an unfortunate accident like that raked up against him
+now that he has accomplished so much.”
+
+“Oh, all right,” Polly returned, thoughtfully digging into the earth
+with the toe of her pretty kid slipper.
+
+“Good heavens, speaking of angels or the other thing!” she exclaimed, a
+moment later, “I do declare if that does not look like Anthony Graham
+coming directly toward us this instant. Do go and speak to him first,
+dear, while I manage to scramble out of this hammock.”
+
+Ten minutes later Anthony was occupying the chair lately vacated by
+Betty, while Polly was once more in a reclining position. Knowing that
+she was still regarded as a semi-invalid, Anthony had insisted that she
+must not disturb herself on his account. He had explained that the
+reason for his call was to find out how she was feeling. So, soon after
+this statement, Betty had left the two of them together, giving as an
+excuse the fact that as she had invited Anthony to stay with them to tea
+she must go to the cabin to help get things ready.
+
+After Betty’s disappearance Polly did not find her companion
+particularly interesting. He scarcely said half a dozen words but sat
+staring moodily up toward the dark branches of the enshadowing pine
+trees. This at least afforded Polly a fine opportunity for studying the
+young man’s face.
+
+“You have improved a lot, Anthony,” she said finally. “Oh, I beg your
+pardon, I am afraid I was thinking out loud.”
+
+Her visitor smiled. “Well, so long as your thoughts are complimentary I
+am sure I don’t mind,” he returned. “Keep it up, will you?”
+
+The girl nodded. “There is nothing I should like better. You know it is
+odd, but the Princess and I were talking about you just when you
+appeared. I must say I am amazed at your prominence, Anthony. I never
+dreamed you would ever amount to so much. It was funny, but Betty used
+always to have faith in you. I often wondered why.”
+
+This time her companion did not smile. “I wish to heaven then that she
+had faith in me now, or if not faith at least a little of her old
+liking,” he answered almost bitterly. “For the last year, for some
+reason or other, Miss Betty has seemed to dislike me. She has avoided me
+at every possible opportunity. And I have never been able to find out
+whether I had offended her or if she had merely grown weary of my
+friendship. I have been so troubled by it that I have made a confidant
+of Miss Everett and asked her to help me if she could. I thought perhaps
+if Betty—Miss Betty, I mean—could see that Meg Everett liked me and was
+willing to be my intimate friend, that possibly she might forgive me in
+time. But it has all been of no use, she has simply grown colder and
+colder. And I fear I only weary Miss Everett in talking of Miss Betty so
+much of the time. She recently told me that I did.”
+
+Polly’s lips trembled and her shoulders shook. What a perfectly absurd
+creature a male person was at all times and particularly when under the
+influence of love!
+
+The next moment the girl’s face had strangely sobered.
+
+“You are not worthy to tie her shoe-string, you know, Anthony; but then
+I never have seen any one whom I have thought worthy of her. Most
+certainly neither Esther nor I approved of the nobility as represented
+by young Count Von Reuter.”
+
+Aloud Polly continued this interesting debate with herself, apparently
+not concerned with whether or not her companion understood her.
+
+“Certainly I am unworthy to tie any one’s shoe-string,” the young man
+murmured finally, “but would you mind confiding in me just whose
+shoe-string you mean?”
+
+From under her dark lashes half resentfully and half sympathetically the
+girl surveyed the speaker. “You have a sense of humor, Anthony, and that
+is something to your credit,” she remarked judicially. “Well, much as I
+really hate to say it, I might as well tell you that I don’t think the
+Princess dislikes you intensely, provided you tell her just why you have
+been so intimate with Meg for these past months. No, I have nothing more
+to say. Only I am going down to the lake for half an hour to join Mollie
+and Billy Webster and if you wait here you may have a chance of speaking
+to Betty alone when she comes to invite us in to tea.”
+
+Then quietly Polly O’Neill strolled away with every appearance of
+calmness, although she was really feeling greatly perturbed and
+distressed. Certainly something must have worked a reformation in her
+character, for although she positively hated the idea of Betty Ashton’s
+marrying, had she not just thrust her deliberately into the arms of her
+fate. Yet, of course, her feeling was a purely selfish one, since she
+had no real fault to find with Anthony. So if Betty loved him, he must
+have his chance.
+
+Then with a smile and a sigh Polly once more shrugged her shoulders,
+which is the Irish method of acknowledging that fate is too strong for
+the strongest of us. She reached the edge of the lake and madly signaled
+to Mollie and Billy to allow her to enter their boat. They were at no
+great distance off and yet were extremely slow in approaching the shore.
+Evidently they seemed to feel no enthusiasm for the newcomer’s society
+at the present moment.
+
+“I thought you were asleep, Polly,” Mollie finally murmured in a
+reproachful tone, while Billy Webster eyed his small canoe rather
+doubtfully.
+
+“She won’t carry a very heavy load, Miss Polly,” he remarked, drawing
+alongside. Polly calmly climbed into the skiff, taking her seat in the
+stern.
+
+“I can’t sleep all the time, sister of mine,” she protested, once she
+was comfortably established, “much as I should like to accommodate my
+family and friends by the relief from my society. And as for my being
+too heavy for your canoe, Billy Webster, I don’t weigh nearly so much as
+Mollie. So if you think both of us too heavy, she might as well get out
+and give me a chance. You have been around this lake with her at least a
+dozen times already this afternoon. Besides, I really have to be allowed
+to remain somewhere.”
+
+Plainly Mollie’s withdrawal from the scene had no place in Billy’s
+calculations, for without further argument he moved out toward the
+middle of the pond.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX—Two Engagements
+
+
+Ten minutes more must have passed before Betty decided to return to her
+friends. Yet during her short walk to the pine grove she was still oddly
+shy and nervous and in a mood wholly dissatisfied with herself. Why in
+the world did she so often behave coldly to Anthony Graham and with such
+an appearance of complete unfriendliness? There was nothing further from
+her own desire, for certainly he had an entire right to have transferred
+his affection to Meg! To show either anger or pique was small and
+unwomanly!
+
+Never had there been definite understanding between Anthony and herself.
+Indeed she had always refused even to listen to any serious expression
+of his affection for her. Long ago there had been a single evening after
+her return from Germany, when together they had watched the moon go down
+behind Sunrise Hill, an evening which she had not been able to forget.
+Yet she had only herself to blame for the weakness, since if Anthony had
+forgotten, no girl should cherish such a memory alone.
+
+Now here was an opportunity for proving both her courage and pride. With
+the thought of her old title of Princess, Betty’s cheeks had flamed. How
+very far she had always been from living up to its real meaning. Yet she
+must hurry on and cease this absurd and selfish fashion of thinking of
+herself. A cloud had come swiftly up out of the east and in a few
+moments there would be a sudden July downpour. Often a brief storm of
+wind and rain closed an unusually warm day in the New Hampshire hills.
+
+Under no circumstances must Polly suffer. Only a week before had Mrs.
+Wharton been persuaded to leave Polly in their charge when she and
+Mollie had both promised to take every possible care of her.
+
+Suddenly Betty began running so that she arrived quite breathless at her
+destination. Her face was flushed, and from under the blue ribbon her
+hair had escaped and was curling in red-brown tendrils over her white
+forehead. Then at the entrance to the group of pines, before she has
+even become aware of Polly’s disappearance, Anthony Graham had
+unexpectedly caught hold of both her hands.
+
+“Betty, you must listen to me,” he demanded. “No, I can’t let you go
+until I have spoken, for if I do you will find some reason for escaping
+me altogether as you have been doing these many months. You must know I
+love you and that I have cared for no one else since the hour of our
+first meeting. Always I have thought of you, always worked to be in some
+small way worthy even of daring to say I love you. Yet something has
+come between us during this past year and it is only fair that you
+should tell me what it is. I do not expect you to love me, Betty, but
+once you were my friend and I could at least tell you my hopes and
+fears. Is it that you are engaged to some one else and take this way of
+letting me know?”
+
+Still Anthony kept close hold of the girl’s hands, and now after her
+first effort she made no further attempt to draw herself away. His eyes
+were fixed upon hers with an expression that there was no mistaking, yet
+something in the firm and resolute lines about his mouth revealed the
+will responsible for Anthony Graham’s success and power. Quietly he now
+drew his companion closer beneath the shelter of the trees, for the
+first drops of rain were beginning to fall.
+
+“But I am still your friend, Anthony. You are mistaken in thinking that
+anything has come between us. As for my being engaged to some one else
+that is quite untrue. I only thought that you and Meg were so intimate
+that you no longer needed me.” For the first time Betty’s voice
+faltered.
+
+Anthony was saying in a tone she should never forget even among the
+thousands of incidents in their crowded lives, “I shall always need and
+want you, Betty, to the last instant of created time.” Then he brought
+both her hands up to his lips and kissed them. “Meg was only enduring my
+friendship so that I might have some one with whom I could talk about
+you.”
+
+Suddenly Anthony let go Betty’s hands and stepped back a few paces away
+from her. His face had lost the radiant look of a brief moment before.
+
+“Betty, a little while ago you told me that you were still my friend and
+that no one had come between us, and it made me very happy. But I tell
+you honestly that I do not think I can be happy with such an answer for
+long. Two years ago, when you and I together watched the moon over
+Sunrise Hill, I dared not then say more than I did, I had not enough to
+offer you. But now things are different and it isn’t your friendship I
+want! Ten thousand times, no! It is your love! Do you think, Betty, that
+you can ever learn to love me?”
+
+Now Betty’s face was white and her gray eyes were like deep wells of
+light.
+
+“Learn to love you, Anthony? Why I am not a school girl any longer and I
+learned that lesson years and years ago.”
+
+When the storm finally broke and the thunder crashed between the heavy
+deluges of rain neither Anthony nor Betty cared to make for the nearby
+shelter of Sunrise cabin. Instead they stood close together laughing up
+at the sky and at the lovely rain-swept world. Once Betty did remember
+to inquire for the vanished Polly, but Anthony assured her that Polly
+had joined Mollie and Billy half an hour before and that they would of
+course take the best possible care of her.
+
+Nevertheless at this instant Polly O’Neill was actually floundering
+desperately about in the waters of Sunrise Lake while trying to make her
+way to the side of their overturned skiff. Billy Webster, with his arm
+about Mollie, was swimming with her safely toward shore.
+
+“Don’t be frightened, it is all right, dear. I’ll look after Polly in a
+moment,” he whispered encouragingly.
+
+Returning a few moments later Billy discovered his other companion, a
+very damp and discomfited mermaid, seated somewhat perilously upon the
+bottom of their wrecked craft.
+
+“I never knew such behavior in my life, Billy Webster,” she began
+angrily, as soon as she was able to get her wet hair out of her mouth.
+“The idea of your going all the way into shore with Mollie and leaving
+me to drown. You might at least have seen that I got safe hold of your
+old boat first.”
+
+“Yes, I know; I am sorry,” Billy replied, resting one hand on the side
+of his skiff and so bringing his head up out of the water in order to
+speak more distinctly. “But you see, Polly, I knew you could swim and
+Mollie is so easily frightened and it all came so suddenly, the boat’s
+overturning with that heavy gust of wind. To tell you the truth, I
+didn’t even remember you were aboard until Mollie began asking for you.
+I wonder if you would mind helping me get this skiff right side up. It
+would be easier for us to paddle in than for me to have to swim with
+you.”
+
+Gasping, Polly slid off her perch.
+
+“After that extra avalanche of cold water nothing matters,” she remarked
+icily. However, her companion did not even hear her.
+
+Safe on land again, Polly waited under a tree while the young man pulled
+his boat ashore. Her sister had gone ahead to send some one down with
+blankets and umbrellas. In spite of the rain, damp clothes and the shock
+of her recent experience, Polly O’Neill was not conscious of feeling
+particularly cold.
+
+“I hope you are not very uncomfortable, and that our accident won’t make
+you ill again,” Billy Webster said a few moments later as he joined her.
+“I suppose I do owe you a little more explanation for having ignored you
+so completely. But you see, just about five minutes before you insisted
+on getting into our boat Mollie had promised to be my wife. We did not
+dare talk very much after you came on board, but you can understand that
+I simply wasn’t able to think of any one else. You see I have loved
+Mollie ever since that day when we were children and she bound up the
+wound you had made in my head.”
+
+Once more Polly gasped slightly, and of course she was beginning to feel
+somewhat chilled.
+
+Billy Webster looked at her severely. “Oh, of course I did think I was
+in love with you, Polly, for a year or so, I remember. But that was
+simply because I had not then learned to understand Mollie’s true
+character. I used to believe it would be a fine thing to have a strong
+influence over you and try to show you the way you should go.” Here
+Billy laughed, and he was very handsome with his damp hair pushed back
+over his bronzed face and his wet clothes showing the outline of his
+splendid boyish figure, matured and strengthened by his outdoor life.
+
+“But you see, Polly, I believe nobody is ever going to be able to
+influence you to any great extent,” he continued teasingly, “and at any
+rate you and I will never have half the chances to quarrel that we would
+have had if we had ever learned to like each other. I forgive you
+everything now for Mollie’s sake.”
+
+For half a moment Polly hesitated, then, holding out her hand, her blue
+eyes grew gay and tender.
+
+“Thank you, Billy,” she said, “for Mollie’s sake. If you make her as
+happy as I think you will, why, I’ll also forget and forgive you
+everything.”
+
+Fortunately by the time Mrs. Martins and Ann had arrived with every
+possible comfort for the invalid. And so Polly was borne to the cabin in
+the midst of their anxious inquiries and put to bed, where neither her
+sister nor Betty were allowed to see her during the evening.
+
+If either of the girls suffered from the deprivation of her society
+there was nothing that gave any indication of unhappiness in either of
+the two faces.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI—At the Turn of the Road
+
+
+                   “By day, upon my golden hill
+                   Between the harbor and the sea,
+                   I feel as if I well could fill
+                   The world with golden melody.
+                   There is no limit to my view,
+                   No limit to my soft content,
+                   Where sky and water’s fairy blue
+                   Merge to the eye’s bewilderment.”
+
+Polly read from the pages of a magazine, and then pausing for a moment
+she again repeated the verse aloud, giving each line all the beauty and
+significance of which it was capable.
+
+She was walking alone along a path beyond the grove of pine trees one
+Sunday morning about ten days later. She wore no hat and her dress was
+of plain white muslin without even a ribbon belt for decoration. She had
+a bunch of blue corn flowers, which she had lately gathered, pinned to
+her waist and was looking particularly young and well.
+
+Yet for the first time since her home coming Polly had recently been
+feeling somewhat lonely and neglected. There was at present absolutely
+no counting on Mollie for anything. Billy had always made demands upon
+her time when they were simply friends, but since their engagement had
+been announced there was never an entire afternoon or even morning when
+Mollie was free. In answer to Polly’s protests that she was only to be
+at home during the summer and so would like to see her only sister alone
+now and then, Billy had explained that early August was the only month
+in which he had any real leisure and that he and Mollie must therefore
+make plans for their future at once. Moreover, as it was self-evident
+that her sister preferred her fiancé’s society to her own, Polly had
+been forced to let the matter drop.
+
+Then a week before, Betty had gone to Boston to see Esther and her new
+nephew, which was discouraging for her friend. For as Anthony had been
+too busy to come to the cabin except in the evenings, Polly had the
+Princess to herself during the day time.
+
+She had promised Betty to stay on at the cabin until her return, as the
+simple, outdoor life seemed to be doing her so much good; nevertheless,
+Polly had determined to go into Woodford in the next few days and
+persuade her mother to take her away unless things at the cabin became
+more interesting. She was now rested and entirely well and more than
+anxious to get back to her work again, since the friends on whom she had
+depended were at present too absorbed to give her much of their time or
+thought.
+
+“Well, Margaret Adams always told me that ‘a career’ was a lonely kind
+of life,” Polly thought to herself. “But oh, what wouldn’t I give if
+Margaret should appear at this moment at the turn of that road. She must
+have had my letter on Friday begging her to come and perhaps she had no
+other engagement. It will be delightful, too, if she brings Mr. Hunt
+along with her. I told her to ask him, as Billy can make him comfortable
+at the farm. I should like him to see Sunrise cabin and the beautiful
+country about here.”
+
+Polly had finally come to the end of her lane and beyond could see the
+road leading out from the village. She was a little weary, as she had
+not walked any distance in several months until this morning. There was
+a convenient seat under the shade of a great elm tree that commanded a
+view of the country and she had her magazine with her and could hear the
+noise of an approaching motor car or carriage, should Margaret have
+decided to come.
+
+Again Polly fell to memorizing the poem she had been trying to learn
+during her stroll. It was good practice to get back into the habit of
+training her memory, and the poem seemed oddly descriptive of her
+present world.
+
+  “Tonight, upon my somber gaze
+  With gleam of silvered waters lit,
+  I feel as if I well could praise
+  The moon——”
+
+Here Polly was interrupted by the sound of a voice saying:
+
+“My dear Miss Polly, I never dreamed of finding you so well. Why, if you
+only had the famous torn hat and rake you would pass for Maud Muller any
+day!”
+
+With a cry of welcome Polly jumped to her feet.
+
+“Mr. Hunt, I am so glad to see you and so surprised!” she exclaimed.
+“Please explain how you managed, when I have been watching for you and
+Margaret all morning, to arrive without my knowing?”
+
+“But we have not arrived, and I hope you won’t be too greatly
+disappointed at my coming alone. You see it is like this. I happened to
+be calling on Miss Adams when your note came and she told me that I had
+been included in your invitation. Well, it was impossible for Miss Adams
+to spend this week end with you as she was going off on a yachting party
+with some of her rich admirers, so I decided to run down and see you
+alone. It was not so remarkable my coming upon you unawares, since I
+walked out from the village. Please do sit down again and tell me you
+are glad to see me.”
+
+Polly sat down as she was bid, and Richard Hunt, dropping on the ground
+near her, took off his hat, leaning his head on his hand like a tired
+boy.
+
+“Come, hurry, you haven’t said you were glad yet, Miss Polly,” he
+protested.
+
+Polly’s eyes searched the dark ones turned half-teasingly and
+half-admiringly toward her.
+
+“Do you mean, Mr. Hunt, that you came all the way from New York to
+Woodford just to see me?” she asked wonderingly. “And that you came
+alone, without Margaret or any one else?”
+
+Her companion laughed, pushing back the iron gray hair from his
+forehead, for his long walk had been a warm one.
+
+“I do assure you I haven’t a single acquaintance concealed anywhere
+about me,” he declared. “But just the same I don’t see why you should
+feel so surprised. Don’t you know that I would travel a good many miles
+to spend an hour alone with you, instead of a long and blissful day. Of
+course I am almost old enough to be your father——”
+
+“You’re not,” Polly interrupted rather irritably. Yet in spite of her
+protest she was feeling curiously shy and self-conscious and Polly was
+unaccustomed to either of these two emotions. Then, just in order to
+have something to do, she carelessly drew the bunch of corn flowers from
+her belt and held them close against her hot cheeks.
+
+“Mr. Hunt,” she began after a moment of awkward silence, “don’t think I
+am rude, but please do not say things to me like—” the girl
+hesitated—“like that last thing; I mean your being willing to travel
+many miles to spend an hour alone with me. You have always been so kind
+that I have thought of you as my real friend, but of course if you begin
+to be insincere and flatter me as you would some one whom you did not
+honestly like, I——”
+
+Polly ceased talking at this instant because Richard Hunt had risen
+quickly to his feet and put forth his hand to assist her.
+
+“Let us go on to your cabin,” he replied gravely. “You are right. I
+should not have said a thing like that to you. But you are wrong, Polly,
+in believing I was insincere. You see, I grew to be pretty fond of you
+last winter and very proud, seeing with what courage you fought your
+battles alone.” Richard Hunt paused, walking on a few paces in silence.
+“I shall not worry you with the affection of a man so much older than
+you are,” he continued as though having at last made up his mind to say
+all that was in his heart and be through. “Only at all times and under
+all circumstances, no matter what happens, you are to remember, Polly,
+that you are and always shall be first with me.”
+
+“I—you,” the girl faltered. “Why I thought you cared for Margaret. I
+never dreamed—” then somehow Polly, who had always so much to say, could
+not even finish her sentence.
+
+“No, of course you never did,” the man replied gravely. “Still, I want
+you to know that Margaret and I have never thought of being anything but
+the best of friends. Now let us talk of something else, only tell me
+first that you are not angry and we will never speak of this again.”
+
+“No, I am not displeased,” Polly faltered, looking and feeling absurdly
+young and inadequate to the importance of the situation.
+
+Then, walking on and keeping step with her companion, suddenly a new
+world seemed to have spread itself before her eyes. Shyly she stole a
+glance at her tall companion, and then laid her hand coaxingly on his
+coat sleeve.
+
+“Will you please stop a minute. I want to explain something to you,” she
+asked. Polly’s expression was intensely serious; she had never been more
+in earnest; all the color seemed to have gone from her face so as to
+leave her eyes the more deeply blue.
+
+“You see, Mr. Hunt, I never, never intend marrying any one. I mean to
+devote all my life to my profession and I have never thought of anything
+else since I was a little girl.”
+
+Gravely Richard Hunt nodded. Not for an instant did his face betray any
+doubt of Polly’s decision in regard to her future. Then Polly laughed
+and her eyes changed from their former seriousness to a look of the
+gayest and most charming camaraderie. “Still, Mr. Hunt, if you really
+did mean what you said just now, why I don’t believe I shall mind if we
+do speak of it some day again. Of course I am not in love with you,
+but——”
+
+Richard Hunt slipped the girl’s arm inside his. There was something in
+his face that gave Polly a sense of strength and quiet such as she had
+never felt in all her restless, ambitious girlhood.
+
+“Yes, I understand,” he answered. “But look there, Polly, isn’t that
+Sunrise Hill over there and your beloved little cabin in the distance?
+And aren’t we glad to be alive in this wonderful world?”
+
+The girl’s voice was like a song. “I never knew what it meant to be
+really alive until this minute,” she whispered.
+
+The sixth volume of the Camp Fire Girls Series will be known as “The
+Camp Fire Girls in After Years.” In this story the girls will appear as
+wives and mothers. Also it will reveal the fact that romance does not
+end with marriage, and that in many cases a woman’s life story is only
+beginning upon her wedding day. There will be new characters, a new plot
+and new love interests as well, but in the main the theme will follow
+the fortunes of the same group of girls who years ago formed a Camp Fire
+club and lived, worked and loved under the shadow of Sunrise Hill.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by 
+Margaret Vandercook
+
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diff --git a/36229-0.zip b/36229-0.zip
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+Project Gutenberg's The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by Margaret Vandercook
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+
+Author: Margaret Vandercook
+
+Release Date: May 26, 2011 [EBook #36229]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank, Larry B. Harrison and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+                      BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK
+
+
+                         THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES
+
+               The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge
+               The Ranch Girls' Pot of Gold
+               The Ranch Girls at Boarding School
+               The Ranch Girls in Europe
+               The Ranch Girls at Home Again
+               The Ranch Girls and their Great Adventure
+
+
+                       THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES
+
+            The Red Cross Girls in the British Trenches
+            The Red Cross Girls on the French Firing Line
+            The Red Cross Girls in Belgium
+            The Red Cross Girls with the Russian Army
+            The Red Cross Girls with the Italian Army
+            The Red Cross Girls Under the Stars and Stripes
+
+
+                     STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
+
+              The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill
+              The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows
+              The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World
+              The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea
+              The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+              The Camp Fire Girls in After Years
+              The Camp Fire Girls in the Desert
+              The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the Trail
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "I Am Sorry," Billy Replied]
+
+
+
+
+THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS
+
+BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK
+
+Author of "The Ranch Girls Series," etc.
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+PHILADELPHIA
+
+THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
+
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1915, by
+
+The John C. Winston Company
+
+
+
+
+                     STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
+
+                              Six Volumes
+
+                The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill
+                The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows
+                The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World
+                The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea
+                The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+                The Camp Fire Girls in After Years
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+           CHAPTER                                         PAGE
+                I. Success or Failure?                        7
+               II. "Belinda"                                 17
+              III. Friends and Enemies                       33
+               IV. Farewell!                                 43
+                V. Other Girls                               55
+               VI. The Fire-Maker's Desire                   82
+              VII. "The Flames in the Wind"                  74
+             VIII. Afternoon Tea and a Mystery               83
+               IX. Preparations                              94
+                X. More Puzzles                             105
+               XI. A Christmas Song and Recognition         119
+              XII. After Her Fashion Polly Explains         133
+             XIII. A Place of Memories                      149
+              XIV. A Sudden Summons                         163
+               XV. "Little Old New York"                    174
+              XVI. "Moira"                                  185
+             XVII. A Reunion                                195
+            XVIII. Home Again                               209
+              XIX. Illusions Swept Away                     218
+               XX. Two Engagements                          233
+              XXI. At the Turn of the Road                  243
+
+
+
+
+                             ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+    "I Am Sorry," Billy Replied                         Frontispiece
+    Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion              13
+    She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar              63
+    "Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?"         151
+
+
+
+
+The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I--Success or Failure
+
+
+The entire theater was in darkness but for a single light burning at one
+corner of the bare stage, where stood a man and girl.
+
+"Now once more, Miss Polly, please," the man said encouragingly. "That
+last try had a bit more life in it. Only do remember that you are
+supposed to be amusing, and don't wear such a tragic expression."
+
+Then a stiff figure, very young, very thin, and with a tense white face,
+moved backward half a dozen steps, only to stumble awkwardly forward the
+next instant with both hands pressed tight together.
+
+"I can't--I can't find it," she began uncertainly, "I have searched----"
+
+Lifting her eyes at this moment to her companion's, Polly O'Neill burst
+into tears.
+
+"I am a hopeless, abject failure, Mr. Hunt, and I shall never, never
+learn to act in a thousand years. There is no use in your trying to
+teach me, for if we remain at the theater for the rest of the day I
+shall make exactly the same mistakes tonight. Oh, how can I possibly
+play a funny character when my teeth are positively chattering with
+fright even at a rehearsal? It is sheer madness, my daring to appear
+with you and Margaret Adams before a first-night New York audience and
+in a new play. Even if I have only a tiny part, I can manage to make
+just as great a mess of it. Why, why did I ever dream I wished to have a
+career, I wonder. I only want to go back home this minute to Woodford
+and never stir a step away from that blessed village as long as I live."
+
+"Heigho, says Mistress Polly," quoted her companion and then waited
+without smiling while the girl dried her tears.
+
+"But you felt very differently from this several years ago when you
+acted with me in The Castle of Life," he argued in a reassuring tone.
+"Besides, you were then very young and had not had two years of dramatic
+training. I was amazed at your self-confidence, and now I don't
+understand why you should feel so much more nervous."
+
+Polly squared her slender shoulders. "Yes you do, Mr. Hunt," she
+insisted, bluntly. "However, if you really don't understand, I think I
+can make you see in a moment. Four years ago when I behaved like a
+naughty child and without letting my friends or family know acted the
+part of the fairy of the woods in the Christmas pantomime, I had not the
+faintest idea of what a serious thing I was attempting. I did not even
+dream of how many mistakes I could make. Besides, that was only a
+school-girl prank and I never thought that any one in the audience might
+know me. But now, why at this moment I can hear dozens of people
+whispering: 'See that girl on the stage there taking the character of
+the maid, Belinda; she is Polly O'Neill. You may remember that she is
+one of the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls and for years has been
+worrying her family to let her become an actress. I don't believe she
+will ever make a success. Really, she is the worst stick I ever saw on
+the stage!'"
+
+And so real had her imaginary critic become that Polly shuddered and
+then clasped her hands together in a tragic fashion.
+
+"Then think of my poor mother and my sister, Mollie, and Betty Ashton
+and a dozen or more of my old Camp Fire friends who have come to New
+York to see me make my d�but tonight! Can't you tell Miss Adams I am
+ill; isn't there some one who can take my place? I really am ill, you
+know, Mr. Hunt," Polly pleaded, the tears again starting to her eyes.
+
+Since Polly's return from the summer in Europe, two years of eager
+ambition and hard work had been spent in a difficult training. As a
+result she looked older and more fragile. This morning her face was
+characteristically pale and the two bright patches of color usually
+burning on her cheek bones had vanished. Her chin had become so pointed
+that it seemed almost elfish, and her head appeared too small for its
+heavy crown of jet-black hair. Indeed, at this time in her life, in the
+opinion of strangers, only the blueness of her eyes with the Irish
+shadows underneath saved the girl from positive plainness. To her
+friends, of course, she was always just Polly and so beyond criticism.
+
+Having finally through years of persuasion and Margaret Adams' added
+influence won her mother's consent to follow the stage for her
+profession, Polly had come to New York, where she devoted every possible
+hour of the day and night to her work. There had been hundreds of
+lessons in physical culture, in learning to walk properly and to sit
+down. Still more important had been the struggle with the pronunciation
+of even the simplest words, besides the hundred and one minor lessons of
+which the outsider never dreams. Polly had continued patient,
+hard-working and determined. No longer did she give performances of
+Juliet, draped in a red tablecloth, before audiences of admiring girls.
+
+Never for a moment since their first meeting at the Camp Fire play in
+Sunrise Hill cabin had Margaret Adams ceased to show a deep interest in
+the wayward, ambitious and often unreliable Polly. She it was who had
+recommended the school in New York City and the master under whom Polly
+was to make her stage preparations. And here at the first possible
+moment Margaret Adams had offered her the chance for a d�but under the
+most auspicious conditions.
+
+The play was a clever farce called A Woman's Wit, and especially written
+for the celebrated actress, who was to be supported by Richard Hunt,
+Polly's former acquaintance, as leading man.
+
+Of course the play had been in rehearsal for several weeks; but Polly
+had been convinced that her own work had been growing poorer and poorer
+as each day went by.
+
+"Look here, Miss O'Neill," a voice said harshly, and Polly stopped
+shaking to glance at her companion in surprise. During the last few
+months she and Richard Hunt had renewed their acquaintance and in every
+possible way Mr. Hunt had been kind and helpful. Yet now his manner had
+suddenly grown stern and forbidding.
+
+[Illustration: Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion]
+
+"You are talking wildly and absurdly and like a foolish child instead of
+a woman," he said coldly. "Surely you must know that you are having a
+rare chance tonight because of Miss Adams' friendship and you must not
+disappoint her. If you fail to succeed, that will be unfortunate, but if
+you run away--" Suddenly Richard Hunt laughed. What a ridiculous
+suggestion! Of course Polly had only been talking in a silly school-girl
+fashion without any idea of being taken seriously.
+
+"Good-by, Miss Polly, and cheer up," Richard Hunt finally said, holding
+out his hand, his manner friendly once more; for after all she was only
+a frightened child and he was at least ten years her senior. "Doubtless
+you'll put us all to shame tonight and Belinda will be the success of
+the evening." Then as he moved away toward the stage door he added, "It
+was absurd of me to be so annoyed, but do you know, for a moment you
+made me believe you really thought of running away. What about the Camp
+Fire law of that famous club to which you once belonged? Did it not tell
+you to be trustworthy and not to undertake an enterprise rashly, but,
+having undertaken it, to complete it unflinchingly. Do go home now and
+rest, child, things are sure to turn out splendidly." And with a smile
+of sympathy the man walked away.
+
+So in another moment Polly was standing alone on an otherwise empty
+stage, torn with indecision and dread. Was Mr. Hunt right in believing
+that she had uttered only an idle threat in saying that she meant to run
+away? Yet would it not be wiser to disappear than to make an utter
+failure of her part tonight and be unable either to move or speak when
+the eyes of the audience were fixed expectantly upon her?
+
+Slowly the girl walked toward the door, her face scarlet one moment,
+then like chalk the next. She could hear the scene-shifters moving about
+and realized that she would soon be in their way. But what should she
+do? Polly realized that if she went to her boarding place her mother and
+Mollie would be there waiting for her and then there could be no
+possible chance of escape.
+
+Always Polly O'Neill had permitted herself to yield to sudden, nearly
+uncontrollable impulses. Should she do so now? In the last few years she
+believed she had acquired more self-control, better judgment. Yet in
+this panic of fear they had vanished once more. Of course Miss Adams
+would never forgive her, and no one would have any respect for her
+again. All this the girl realized and yet at the moment nothing appeared
+so dreadful as walking out on the stage and repeating the dozen or more
+sentences required of her. Rather would she have faced the guillotine.
+
+"'Finvarra and their land of heart's desire,'" Polly quoted softly and
+scornfully to herself. Well, she had been hoping that she was to reach
+the land of her heart's desire tonight. Was this not to be the beginning
+of the stage career for which she had worked and prayed and dreamed?
+
+Out on the street Polly was now walking blindly ahead. She had at last
+reached her decision, and yet how could she ever arrange to carry it
+out?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II--"Belinda"
+
+
+It was twenty-five minutes past eight o'clock and at half-past eight the
+curtain was to rise on the first performance of A Woman's Wit, written
+especially for Margaret Adams. And because of her popularity and that of
+her leading man, the house had been sold out weeks in advance.
+
+The action of the play was to take place in a small town in Colorado,
+where a man and his wife were both endeavoring to be elected to the
+office of Mayor. Polly was to play the part of a clever little
+shop-girl, whom the heroine had brought into her home, supposedly as a
+parlor maid. But in reality the girl was to do all that was in her power
+to assist her mistress in gaining a victory over her husband. She was to
+watch his movements and to suggest any schemes that she might devise for
+their success.
+
+In the act which Polly had recently been rehearsing she was engaged in
+trying to discover a political speech written by the hero, so that the
+wife might read it beforehand and so answer it in a convincing fashion
+before the evening meeting of the Woman's Club. The play was a witty
+farce, and Belinda was supposedly one of the cleverest and most amusing
+characters. Yet whether Polly could succeed in making her appear so was
+still exceedingly doubtful.
+
+With this idea in mind Richard Hunt left his dressing room, hoping to
+see Polly for a few moments if possible before the play began. Perhaps
+her fright had passed. For already the man and girl were sufficiently
+intimate friends for him to understand how swiftly her moods changed.
+
+Polly had apparently left her dressing room, since there was no answer
+to repeated knockings. She could not have carried out her threat of the
+morning? Of course such a supposition was an absurdity. And yet the
+man's frown relaxed and his smile was one of unconscious relief when a
+tall, delicate figure in a blue dress came hurrying toward him along the
+dimly-lighted passage-way. The girl did not seem aware of anything or
+anybody, so great was her hurry and nervousness. However, this was not
+unreasonable, for instead of having on her maid's costume for the
+performance, she was wearing an evening gown of shimmering silk and in
+the coiled braids of her black hair a single pink rose.
+
+"You are late, Miss Polly; may I find some one to help you dress?"
+
+Instantly a pair of blue eyes were turned toward him in surprise and
+reproach. They were probably not such intensely blue eyes as Polly
+O'Neill's and they had a far gentler expression, though they were of
+exactly the same shape. And the girl's hair was equally black, her
+figure and carriage almost similar, except that she was less thin. But
+instead of Polly's accustomed pallor this girl's cheeks were as
+delicately flushed as the rose in her hair. "Could an evening costume so
+metamorphose a human being?" Richard Hunt wondered in a vaguely puzzled,
+uncertain fashion.
+
+A small hand was thrust forward without the least sign of haste,
+although it trembled a little from shyness.
+
+"I'm not Polly, Mr. Hunt," the girl said smiling. "I am Mollie, her twin
+sister. But you must not mistake us, because even if we do look alike,
+we are not in the least alike in other ways. For one thing, I wouldn't
+be in Polly O'Neill's shoes tonight, not for this whole world with a
+fence around it. How can she do such a horrible thing as to be an
+actress? Polly considers that I haven't a spark of ambition, but why on
+earth should a sensible girl want a career?"
+
+Suddenly Mollie blushed until her cheeks were pinker than before. "Oh, I
+am so sorry! I forgot for the moment that you were an actor, Mr. Hunt.
+Of course things are very different with you. A man must have a career!
+But I ought to apologize for talking to you without our having met each
+other. You see, Polly has spoken of you so many times, saying how kind
+you had been in trying to help her, that I thought for the instant I
+actually did know you. Forgive me, and now I must find Polly."
+
+Mollie was always shy, but realizing all at once how much she had
+confided to a stranger, she felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. How the
+other girls would laugh if they ever learned of what she had said. Yet
+Mr. Hunt was not laughing at her, nor did he appear in the least
+offended. Mollie was sure he must be as kind as Polly had declared him,
+although he did look older than she had expected and must be quite
+thirty, as his hair was beginning to turn gray at the temples and there
+were heavy lines about the corners of his mouth. As Mollie now turned
+the handle of her sister's dressing-room door she was hoping that her
+new acquaintance had not noticed how closely she had studied him.
+
+However, she need not have worried, for her companion was only thinking
+of how pretty she was and yet how oddly like her twin sister. For Mollie
+seemed to possess the very graces that Polly lacked. Evidently she was
+more amiable, better poised and more reliable, her figure was more
+attractive, her color prettier and her manner gracious and appealing.
+
+"I am afraid you won't find your sister in there, Miss O'Neill. I have
+knocked several times without an answer," Richard Hunt finally
+interposed.
+
+"Won't find her?" Mollie repeated the words in consternation. "Then
+where on earth is she? Miss Adams sent me to tell Polly that she wished
+to speak to her for half a moment before the curtain went up. Besides,
+Miss Ashton has already searched everywhere for her for quite ten
+minutes and then came back to her seat in the theater, having had to
+give up."
+
+Forcibly Mollie now turned the handle of the door and peered in. The
+small room was unoccupied, as the other two members of the company who
+shared it with Polly, having dressed some time before, had also
+disappeared.
+
+But Richard Hunt could wait no longer to assist in discovering the
+wanderer. Five minutes had passed, so that his presence would soon be
+required upon the stage. Surely if Polly had failed to appear at the
+theater her sister would be aware of it. Yet there was still a chance
+that she had sent a hurried message to the stage director so that her
+character could be played by an understudy. Even Polly would scarcely
+wreck the play by simply failing at the last moment.
+
+He was vaguely uneasy. He had been interested in Polly, first because of
+their chance acquaintance several years before when they both acted in
+The Castle of Life, and also because of Miss Adams' deep affection for
+her prot�g�. The man had been unable to decide whether Polly had any
+talent for the career which she professed to care for so greatly.
+
+Now and then during the frequent rehearsals of their new play she had
+done very well. But the very day after a clever performance she was more
+than apt to give a poor one until the stage manager had almost
+despaired. Nevertheless Richard Hunt acknowledged to himself that there
+was something about the girl that made one unable to forget her. She was
+so intense, loving and hating, laughing and crying with her whole soul.
+Whatever her fate in after years, one could not believe that it would be
+an entirely conventional one.
+
+His cue had been called and Miss Adams was already on the stage. In a
+quarter of an hour when Belinda was summoned by her mistress, he would
+know whether or not Polly had feigned illness or whether she had kept
+her threat and ignominiously run away.
+
+The moment came. A door swung abruptly forward at the rear of the stage
+and through it a girl entered swiftly. She was dressed in a
+tight-fitting gray frock with black silk stockings and slippers. There
+was a tiny white cap on her head and she wore a small fluted apron. She
+looked very young, very clever and graceful. And it was Polly O'Neill,
+and Polly at her best!
+
+For the briefest instant Richard Hunt and Margaret Adams exchanged
+glances. It was obvious that Margaret Adams had also been uneasy over
+her favorite's d�but. For her eyes brightened and she nodded
+encouragingly as the little maid set down the tray she was carrying with
+a bang and then turned saucily to speak to her master. A laugh from the
+audience followed her first speech.
+
+The Polly of the morning had completely vanished. This girl's cheeks
+were crimson, her eyes danced with excitement and vivacity. She was
+fairly sparkling with Irish wit and grace and, best of all, she appeared
+entirely unafraid.
+
+It was not alone Polly O'Neill's two comparatively new friends upon the
+stage with her, who now felt relieved from anxiety by her clever
+entrance. More than a dozen persons in the audience forming a large
+theater party occupying the sixth and seventh rows in the orchestra
+chairs, breathed inaudible sighs of relief.
+
+There sat Betty Ashton and Dick and Esther, who had come down from
+Boston to New York City for Polly's d�but. Next Betty was a handsome,
+grave young man, who had only a few days before been elected to the New
+Hampshire Legislature by the residents of Woodford and the surrounding
+country, Anthony Graham. On his other side eat his sister, Nan, a
+dark-eyed, dark-haired girl with a quiet, refined manner. Near by and
+staring straight ahead through a pair of large, gold-rimmed spectacles
+was another girl with sandy hair, light blue eyes, a square jaw and a
+determined, serious expression. Nothing did Sylvia Wharton take lightly,
+and least of all the success or failure tonight of her adored
+step-sister. For Sylvia's ardent affection for Polly had never wavered
+since the early Camp Fire days at Sunrise Hill. And while she often
+disapproved of her and freely told her so, as she had then, still Polly
+knew that Sylvia could always be counted on through good and ill.
+
+So far as the younger girl's own work was concerned there was little
+doubt of her success. Each year she had been at the head of her class in
+the training school for nurses and had since taken up the study of
+medicine. For Sylvia had never cared for frivolities, for beaus or
+dancing or ordinary good times. Polly often used to say that she would
+like to shake her younger step-sister for her utter seriousness, yet
+Sylvia rarely replied that she might have other and better reasons for
+administering the same discipline to Polly.
+
+Back of this party of six friends Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, Polly's mother
+and stepfather, her sister Mollie and Billy Webster were seated. Billy,
+however, was no longer called by this youthful title except by his most
+intimate friends. He had never since the day Polly had teased him
+concerning it, asking him how it felt to be a shadowy imitation of a
+great man, used the name of Daniel. He was known to the people in
+Woodford and the neighborhood as William Webster, since Billy's father
+had died a year before and he now had the entire management of their
+large and successful farm. Indeed, the young man was considered one of
+the most expert of the new school of scientific farmers in his section
+of the country. And although Billy undoubtedly looked like a country
+fellow, there was no denying that he was exceedingly handsome. He was
+six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an erect carriage; his skin was
+tanned by the sun and wind, making his eyes appear more deeply blue and
+his hair almost the color of copper. Now seated next to Mollie he was
+endeavoring to make her less nervous, although any one could have seen
+he was equally nervous himself.
+
+Frank Wharton and Eleanor Meade, who were to be married in a few months,
+were together, and next came yellow-haired Meg and her brother, John.
+Then only a few places away Rose and Dr. Barton and Faith, the youngest
+of the former group of Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls, who had been
+adopted by her former guardian and now was known by Dr. Barton's name.
+Faith was an unusual-looking girl, with the palest gold hair which she
+wore tied back with a black velvet ribbon. She had a curious, far-away
+expression in her great blue eyes and the simplicity of a little child.
+For Faith had never ceased her odd fashion of living in dreams, so that
+the real world was yet an unexplored country to her. Indeed, in her
+quaint short-waisted white muslin frock, with a tiny fan and a bunch of
+country flowers in her hand, she might have sat as one of the models for
+Arthur Rackham's spiritual, half-fairy children. Tonight she was even
+more quiet than usual, since this was the first time she had ever been
+inside a theater in her life. And had it not been for the reality of
+Polly O'Neill's presence, one of her very own group of Camp Fire girls,
+she must have thought herself on a different planet.
+
+Herr and Frau Krippen had not been able to leave Woodford for this great
+occasion, since they boasted a very small and very new baby, with hair
+as red as its father's and as Esther's. But otherwise it looked
+singularly like the first of the Sunrise Hill Camp Fire guardians, the
+Miss Martha, whom the girls had then believed fore-ordained to eternal
+old-maidenhood.
+
+So on this eventful night in her career, Polly O'Neill's old friends and
+family were certainly well represented. Fortunately, however, she had so
+far given no thought to their presence.
+
+Now Belinda must rush frantically about on the stage, making a pretext
+of dusting the while she is eagerly listening to the conversation taking
+place between her master and mistress. Then in another moment they both
+leave the stage and Polly at last has her real opportunity. For with
+Margaret Adams present, naturally the chief attention of the audience
+would be concentrated upon her with her talent, her magnetism and her
+great reputation.
+
+Yet as Miss Adams slipped away with a fleeting and encouraging lifting
+of her eyebrows toward her little maid, suddenly Polly O'Neill felt that
+the hour of her final reckoning had come. Curiously, until now she had
+not been self-conscious nor frightened; not for an instant had she been
+pursued by the terrors that had so harassed her all day that she had
+made a dozen plans to escape. Yet with the attention of the large
+audience suddenly riveted upon her alone, they were returning like a
+thousand fiends.
+
+Polly felt like an atom surrounded by infinite space, like a spot of
+light in an eternity of darkness. Her voice had gone, her limbs were
+stiff, yet automatically she continued her dusting for a moment longer,
+hoping that a miracle might turn her into a human being again. Useless:
+her voice would never return, her legs felt as if they belonged to a
+figure in Mrs. Jarley's waxworks.
+
+One could not devote the entire evening polishing the stage furniture!
+Already she could hear the agonized voice of the prompter whispering her
+lines, which he naturally supposed her to have forgotten.
+
+In some fashion Polly must have dragged herself to the spot on the stage
+where she had been previously instructed to stand, and there somehow she
+must have succeeded in repeating the few sentences required of her,
+although she never knew how she did the one or the other; for soon the
+other players made their proper entrances and the unhappy Belinda was
+allowed to withdraw.
+
+Yet although Polly could never clearly recall the events on the stage
+during these few moments, of one thing she was absolutely conscious. By
+some wretched accident she had glanced appealingly down, hoping to find
+encouragement in the face of her mother, sister, or Betty Ashton.
+Instead, however, she had caught the blue eyes of her old antagonist,
+Billy Webster, fixed upon her with such an expression of consternation,
+sympathy and amusement that she was never to forget the look for the
+rest of her life.
+
+In the final scene, the one so diligently rehearsed during the morning,
+Belinda did not make such a complete failure. But, as she slipped away
+to her dressing room at the close of the performance, Polly O'Neill
+knew, before tongue or pen could set it down, the verdict that must
+follow her long-desired stage d�but. Alas, that in this world there are
+many of us unlike C�sar: we come, we see, but we do not conquer!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III--Friends and Enemies
+
+
+Standing outside in the dark passage for a moment, Polly hesitated with
+her hand on the door-knob, having already opened the door a few inches.
+From the inside she could plainly hear the voices of the two girls who
+shared the dressing room with her. Neither one of them had an important
+place in the cast. They merely came on in one of the scenes as members
+of a group and without speaking. However, they were both clever,
+ambitious girls whom Polly liked. Now her attention had been arrested by
+hearing the sound of her own name.
+
+"Polly O'Neill was a dreadful failure, wasn't she?" one of them was
+saying. "Well, I am not in the least surprised. Indeed, it was just what
+I expected. Of course, she was only given the part of Belinda because of
+favoritism. Miss Adams is such a great friend of hers!"
+
+Then before Polly could make her presence known the second girl replied:
+
+"So far as I can see, Polly O'Neill has never shown a particle of
+ability at any of the rehearsals that would justify her being placed
+over the rest of us. I am sure that either you or I would have done far
+better. But never mind; perhaps some day we may be famous actresses and
+she nothing at all, when there is no Miss Adams to help her along."
+
+But at this same instant Polly walked into the room.
+
+"I am so sorry I overheard what you said, but it was entirely my fault,
+not yours," she began directly. "Only please don't think I intended to
+be eavesdropping. It was quite an accident my appearing just at the
+wrong moment. Of course I am hurt by your thinking I acted Belinda so
+poorly. Perhaps one of you would have been more successful. But do
+please understand that I realize perfectly that I had the chance given
+me because of Miss Adams' friendship and not because of my own talents."
+Then, though Polly's cheeks were flaming during her long speech and her
+tones not always steady, she smiled at her companions in entire good
+fellowship.
+
+Immediately the older girl, walking across the floor, laid her hand on
+Polly's shoulder. "I am not going to take back all I said a while ago,
+for I meant a part of it," she declared half apologetically and half
+with bravado. "Honestly, I don't think you were very good as Belinda.
+But I have seen you act rather well at rehearsals now and then. I think
+you failed tonight because you suddenly grew so frightened. Don't be
+discouraged; goodness knows it has happened to many an actor before who
+afterwards became famous," she ended in an effort to be comforting.
+
+"Yes, and it is all very well for us to talk here in our dressing rooms
+about being more successful than you were," the second girl added, "but
+there is no way of our proving that we would not have had even worse
+cases of stage fright." She gave Polly's hand a gentle squeeze. "Of
+course, you must know we are both jealous of Miss Adams' affection for
+you or we would never have been such horrid cats." The girl blushed. "Do
+try and forget what we said, it was horrid not to have been kinder and
+more sympathetic. You may have a chance to pay us back with interest
+some day. Anyhow, you are a splendid sport not to be angry. I am sure it
+is the people who take things as you have this who will win out in the
+end."
+
+Then no one referred to the subject again. For it was plain that Polly
+was exhausted and that her nerves had nearly reached the breaking point.
+Instead, both girls now did their best to assist her in taking off the
+costume of the ill-fated Belinda and in getting into an ordinary street
+costume. For Polly was to meet her family and friends in a small
+reception room adjoining Miss Adams' dressing room, five minutes after
+the close of the play. She would have preferred to have marched up to
+the cannon's mouth, and she was much too tired at present either for
+congratulations or censure. She heard Mollie and Betty Ashton coming
+toward the door to seek for her.
+
+Of course they were both immediately enthusiastic over Polly's d�but and
+were sure that she had been a pronounced success. For in the minds of
+her sister and friend, Polly was simply incapable of failure. And
+perhaps they did succeed in making the rest of the evening easier for
+her. But then all of her old Camp Fire and Woodford friends were as kind
+as possible. To have one of their own girls acting on a real stage
+seemed fame enough in itself.
+
+But from two of her friends, from Sylvia Wharton and from Billy Webster,
+Polly received the truth as they saw it. Sylvia's came with spoken
+words, and Billy's by a more painful silence.
+
+As Polly entered the room, Sylvia came forward, and kissed her solemnly.
+The two girls had not seen each other for a number of weeks. Sylvia had
+only arrived in New York a few hours before.
+
+"You were dreadfully nervous, Polly, just as I thought you would be,"
+Sylvia remarked quietly, holding her step-sister's attention by the
+intensity and concentration of her gaze behind the gold-rimmed
+spectacles. "Now I am afraid you are fearfully tired and upset. I do
+wish you would go home immediately and go to bed instead of talking to
+all these people. But I suppose you have already decided because you did
+not act as well as you expected this evening that you will never do any
+better. Promise me to be reasonable this one time, Polly, and may I see
+you alone and have a talk with you tomorrow?"
+
+Then there was only time for the older girl to nod agreement and to
+place her hot hand for an instant into Sylvia's large, strong one, that
+already had a kind of healing touch.
+
+For Mrs. Wharton was now demanding her daughter's attention, wishing to
+introduce her to friends. Since she had finally made up her mind to
+allow Polly to try her fate as an actress, Mrs. Wharton had no doubt of
+her ultimate brilliant success.
+
+Five minutes afterwards, quite by accident, Richard Hunt found himself
+standing near enough to Polly to feel that he must also say something in
+regard to her d�but.
+
+"I am glad Belinda did not run away today, Miss Polly," he whispered.
+"Do you know I almost believed she intended to for a few moments this
+morning?" And the man smiled at the absurdity of his idea.
+
+Polly glanced quickly up toward her companion, a warm flush coloring her
+tired face. "It might have been better for the play if I had, Mr. Hunt,
+I'm a-thinking," she answered with a mellow Irish intonation in the low
+tones of her voice. "But you need not think I did not mean what I said.
+Don't tell on me, but I had a ticket bought and my bag packed and all my
+plans made for running away and then at the last even I could not be
+quite such a coward." The girl's expression changed. "Perhaps, after
+all, I may yet be forced into using that ticket some day," she added,
+half laughing and half serious, as she turned to speak to some one else
+who had joined them.
+
+For another idle moment the man still thought of his recent companion.
+How much or how little of her rash statements did the child mean? Yet he
+might have spared himself the trouble of this reflection, for this
+question about Polly was never to be satisfactorily answered.
+
+Although by this time the greater number of persons in Margaret Adams'
+reception room had spoken to Polly either to say kind things or the
+reverse, there was, however, one individual who had devoted his best
+efforts to avoiding her. Yet there had never been such an occasion
+before tonight. For whether he chanced to be angry with her at the
+moment or pleased, Billy Webster had always enjoyed the opportunity of
+talking to Polly, since she always stirred his deepest emotions, no
+matter what the emotions chanced to be. Tonight he had no desire to
+repeat the fatal words, "I told you so."
+
+Of course he had always known that Polly O'Neill would never be a
+successful actress; she was far too erratic, too emotional. If only she
+had been sensible for once and listened to him that day in the woods
+long ago! Suddenly Billy squared his broad shoulders and closed his firm
+young lips. For, separating herself from every one else, Polly was
+actually marching directly toward him, and she had ever an uncanny
+fashion of guessing what was going on in other people's heads.
+
+Underneath his country tan Billy Webster blushed furiously and honestly.
+
+"You think I was a rank failure, don't you?" Polly demanded at once.
+
+Still speechless, the young man nodded his head.
+
+"You don't believe I ever will do much better?" Again Billy nodded
+agreement.
+
+"And that I had much better have stayed at home in Woodford and learned
+to cook and sew and--and--well, some day try to be somebody's wife?" the
+girl ended a little breathlessly.
+
+This time Billy Webster did not mince matters. "I most assuredly do," he
+answered with praiseworthy bluntness.
+
+Now for the first time since her fiasco as Belinda, Polly's eyes flashed
+with something of their old fire. And there in the presence of the
+company, though unheeded by them, she stamped her foot just as she
+always had as a naughty child.
+
+"I will succeed, Billy Webster, I will, I will! I don't care how many
+failures I may make in learning! And just because I want to be a good
+actress is no reason why I can't marry some day, if there is any man in
+the world who could both love and understand me and who would not wish
+to make me over according to his own particular pattern." Then Polly
+smiled. "Thank you a thousand times, though, Billy, for you are the
+solitary person who has done me any good tonight. It is quite like old
+times, isn't it, for us to start quarreling as soon as we meet. But,
+farewell, I must go home now and to bed." Polly held out her hand. "You
+are an obstinate soul, Billy, but I can't help admiring you for the
+steadfast way in which you disapprove of me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV--Farewell!
+
+
+Margaret Adams was in her private sitting room in her own home, an
+old-fashioned red brick house near Washington Square. She had been
+writing letters for more than an hour and had just seated herself in a
+big chair and closed her eyes. She looked very young and tiny at this
+instant to be such a great lady. Her silk morning dress was only a shade
+lighter than the rose-colored chair.
+
+Suddenly ten fingers were lightly laid over her eyes.
+
+"Guess who I am or I shall never release you," a rich, soft voice
+demanded, and Margaret Adams drew the fingers down and kissed them.
+
+"Silly Polly, as if it could be any one else? What ever made you come
+out in this rain, child? You had a cold, anyway, and it is a perfectly
+beastly day."
+
+Instead of replying, Polly sat down in front of a small, open fire,
+putting her toes up on the fender.
+
+"You are a hospitable lady," she remarked finally, "but I am not wet
+specially. I left my damp things down stairs so as not to bring them
+into this pretty room. It always makes me think of the rose lining to a
+cloud; one could never have the blues in here."
+
+The room was charming. The walls were delicately pink, almost flesh
+color, with a deeper pink border above. A few original paintings were
+hung in a low line--one of an orchard with apple trees in spring bloom.
+The mantel was of white Italian marble with a bust of Dante's Beatrice
+upon it and this morning it also held a vase of roses. Over near the
+window a desk of inlaid mahogany was littered with letters, papers,
+writing materials and photographs. On a table opposite the newest
+magazines and books were carefully arranged, together with a framed
+photograph of Polly and Margaret Adams' taken when they were in London
+several years before. There was also a photograph of Richard Hunt and
+several others of distinguished men and women who were devoted friends
+of the famous actress.
+
+A big, rose-colored divan was piled with a number of silk and velvet
+cushions of pale green and rose. Then there were other odd chairs and
+tables and shaded lamps and curtains of rose-colored damask hung over
+white net. But the room was neither too beautiful nor fanciful to be
+homelike and comfortable. Two or three ugly things Margaret Adams still
+kept near her for old associations' sake and these alone, Polly
+insisted, made it possible for her to come into this room. For she, too,
+was an ugly thing, allowed to stay there now and then because of past
+association.
+
+Polly was not looking particularly well today. She had been acting for
+ten days in A Woman's Wit, though that would scarcely explain her heavy
+eyelids, nor her colorless cheeks. Polly's eyes were so big in her white
+face and her hair so black that actually she looked more like an Irish
+pixie than an ordinary every-day girl.
+
+"You'll stay to lunch with me, Polly, and I'll send you home in my
+motor," Margaret Adams announced authoritatively. "I suppose your mother
+and Mollie have gone back to Woodford? I know Betty has returned to
+Boston, she came in to say good-by and to tell me that she is spending
+the winter in Boston with her brother, Dr. Ashton, and his wife. Betty
+is really prettier than ever, don't you think so? I believe it was you,
+Polly, who really saved Betty from marrying her German princeling, but
+what will the child do now without you to look after her?"
+
+Margaret Adams arose and walked across the room, presumably to ring for
+her maid, but in reality to have a closer look at her visitor. For Polly
+had not yet answered her idle questions; nor did she even show the
+slightest interest in the mention of her beloved Betty's name. Something
+most unusual must be the matter with her.
+
+"I should like to stay to lunch if no one else is coming," Polly
+returned a moment later. "I did not like to disturb you earlier. There
+is something I want to tell you and so I might as well say it at once. I
+am not going to try to act Belinda any longer. I am going away from New
+York tomorrow. Yet you must not think I am ungrateful, even though I am
+not going to tell you where I am going nor what I intend to do." Polly
+clasped her thin arms about her knees and began slowly rocking herself
+back and forth with her eyes fastened on the fire, as though not daring
+to glance toward her friend.
+
+At first Margaret Adams made no reply. Then she answered coldly and a
+little disdainfully: "So you are playing the coward, Polly! Instead of
+trying each night to do better and better work you are running away. If
+for an instant I had dreamed that you had so little courage, so little
+backbone, I never should have encouraged you to enter one of the most
+difficult professions in the whole world. Come, dear, you are tired and
+perhaps ill. I ought not to scold you. But I want you to forget what you
+have just said. Goodness knows, I have not forgotten the bitterly
+discouraged days I used to have and do still have every now and then.
+Only somehow I hoped a Camp Fire girl might be different, that her club
+training might give her fortitude. Remember 'Wohelo means work. We
+glorify work because through work we are free. We work to win, to
+conquer and be masters. We work for the joy of working and because we
+are free.' Long ago I thought you and I decided that the Camp Fire rules
+would apply equally well to whatever career a girl undertook, no matter
+what she might try to do or be."
+
+"Oh, I have not forgotten; I think of our old talks very often," was
+Polly's unsatisfactory reply.
+
+A little nearer the fire Margaret Adams now drew her own big chair. It
+was October and the rain was a cold one, making the blaze comforting.
+The whole atmosphere of the room was peculiarly intimate and cozy and
+yet the girl did not appear any happier.
+
+"I wonder if you would like to hear of my early trials, Polly?" Margaret
+asked. "Not because they were different from other people's, but perhaps
+because they were so like. I believe I promised to tell you my history
+once several years ago."
+
+The older woman did not glance toward her visitor, as she had no doubt
+of her interest. Instead she merely curled herself up in her chair like
+a girl eager to tell a most interesting story.
+
+"You see, dear, I made my d�but not when I was twenty-one like you are,
+but when I was exactly seven. Of course even now one does not like to
+talk of it, but I never remember either my father or mother. They were
+both actors and died when I was very young, leaving me without money and
+to be brought up in any way fate chose. I don't know just why I was not
+sent at once to an orphan asylum, but for some reason or other a woman
+took charge of me who used to do all kinds of odd work about the
+theater, help mend clothes, assist with the dressing, scrub floors if
+necessary. She was frightfully poor, so of course there is no blame to
+be attached to her for making me try to earn my own bread as soon as
+possible. And bread it was actually." Margaret Adams laughed, yet not
+with the least trace of bitterness. "A child was needed in a play, one
+of the melodramas that used to be so popular when I was young, a little
+half-starved waif. I dare say I had no trouble in looking the part. You
+see I'm not very big now, Polly, so I must have been a ridiculously
+thin, homely child, all big staring eyes and straight brownish hair. I
+was engaged to stand outside a baker's shop window gazing wistfully in
+at a beautiful display of shiny currant buns until the heroine appeared.
+Then, touched by my plight, she nobly presented me with a penny with
+which I purchased a bun. Well, dear, that piece of bread was all the pay
+I received for my night's performance, and it was all the supper I had.
+One night--funny how I can recall it all as if it were yesterday--coming
+out of the shop I stumbled, dropped my bun and at the same instant saw
+it rolling away from me down toward the blazing row of footlights. I had
+not a thought then of where I was or of anything in all the world but
+that I was a desperately hungry child, losing my supper. So with a
+pitiful cry I jumped up and ran after my bread. When I picked it up I
+think I hugged it close to me like a treasure and kissed it. Well, dear,
+you can imagine that the very unconsciousness, the genuineness of the
+little act won the audience. I know a good many people cried that night
+and afterwards. The reason I still remember the little scene so
+perfectly was because after that first time I had to do the same thing
+over and over again as long as the play ran. It was my first 'hit,'
+Polly, though I never understood what it meant for years and years
+afterwards."
+
+"Poor baby," Polly whispered softly, taking her friend's hand and
+touching it with her lips. "But I don't care how or why the thing
+happened I have always known that you must have been a genius from the
+very first."
+
+"Genius?" The older woman smiled, shaking her head. "I don't think so,
+Polly; I may have had some talent, although it took me many years to
+prove it. Mostly it has all been just hard work with me and beginning at
+seven, you see I have had a good many years. Do you think I became
+famous immediately after I captured the audience and the bun? My dear, I
+don't believe I have ever known another girl as impossible as I was as
+an actress after I finally grew up. I did not continue acting. My foster
+mother married and I was then sent to school for a number of years.
+Finally, when I was sixteen, I came back to the stage, though I did not
+have a speaking part till five years later. You see, I was not pretty,
+and I never got very big in spite of the buns. It was not until I played
+in The Little Curate years after that I made any kind of reputation."
+
+Margaret Adams leaned over and put both hands on Polly's thin shoulders.
+
+"Don't you see, dear, how silly, how almost wicked you will be if you
+run away from the opportunity I am able to give you. I never had any one
+to help me. It was all nothing but hard, wearing work and few friends,
+with almost no encouragement."
+
+"I see, Margaret," Polly returned gravely. Then, getting up, she sat for
+a few moments on the arm of her friend's chair. "Yet I must give up the
+chance you have given me just the same, dear, and I must go away from
+New York tomorrow. I can't tell you why I am going or where because I am
+afraid you might dissuade me. Oh, I suppose it is foolish, even mad, of
+me, but I would not be myself if I were reasonable, and I am doing what
+seems wisest to me. I have written to mother and made her understand and
+to Sylvia because she almost forced me into promising her that I would
+keep her informed this winter where I was and what I was doing. I am not
+confiding in any one else in the whole world. But if you think I am
+ungrateful, Margaret, you think the very wrongest thing in the whole
+world and I'll prove it to you one day, no matter what it costs. The
+most dreadful part is that I am not going to be able to see you for a
+long time. That is the hardest thing. You will never know what you have
+meant to me in these last few years when I have been away from home and
+my old friends. But I believe you are lonely too, dear, now and then in
+spite of your reputation and money and all the people who would like to
+know you." Polly got up now and began walking restlessly about the room,
+not knowing how to say anything more without betraying her secret.
+
+She glanced at the photograph of Richard Hunt.
+
+"Are you and Mr. Hunt very special friends, Margaret?" Polly asked, an
+idea having suddenly come into her mind. "I think he is half as nice as
+you are and that is saying a great deal."
+
+For a perceptible moment Margaret Adams did not reply and then she
+seemed to hesitate, perhaps thinking of something else. "Yes, we have
+been friends for a number of years, sometimes intimate ones, sometimes
+not," she returned finally. "But I don't want to talk about Mr. Hunt. I
+still want to be told what mad thing Polly O'Neill is planning to do
+next."
+
+"And if she can't tell you?" Polly pleaded.
+
+"Then I suppose I will have to forgive her, because friendship without
+faith is of very little value."
+
+And at this instant Margaret Adams' maid came in to announce luncheon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V--Other Girls
+
+
+
+"No, I am not in the least unhappy or discontented either, Esther; I
+don't know how you can say such a thing," Betty Ashton answered
+argumentatively. "You talk as though I did not like living here with you
+and Dick. You know perfectly well I might have gone south with mother
+for the winter if I had not a thousand times preferred staying with
+you." Yet as she finished her speech, quite unconsciously Betty sighed.
+
+She and Esther were standing in a pretty living room that held a grand
+piano, shelves of books, a desk and reading table; indeed, a room that
+served all purposes except that of sleeping and dining. For Dick and
+Esther had taken a small house on the outskirts of Boston and were
+beginning their married life together as simply as possible, until Dr.
+Ashton should make a name and fame for himself.
+
+Esther was now dressed for going out in a dark brown suit and hat with
+mink furs and a muff. Happiness and the fulfilling of her dreams had
+given her a beauty and dignity which her girlhood had not held. She was
+larger and had a soft, healthy color. With the becoming costumes which
+Betty now helped her select her red hair had become a beauty rather than
+a disfigurement and the content in her eyes gave them more color and
+depth, while about her always beautiful mouth the lines were so cheerful
+and serene that strangers often paused to look at her the second time
+and then went their way with a new sense of encouragement.
+
+Betty had no thought of going out, although it was a brilliant December
+day. She had on a blue cashmere house dress and her hair was loosely
+tucked up on her head in a confusion of half-tangled curls. She had
+evidently been dusting, for she still held a dusting cloth in her hand.
+Her manner was listless and uninterested, and she was pale and frowning
+a little. Her gayety and vitality, temporarily at least, were playing
+truant.
+
+"Still I know perfectly well, Betty dear, that you came to be with Dick
+and me this winter not only because you wanted to come, but because you
+knew your board would help us along while Dick is getting his start. So
+it is perfectly natural that you should be lonely and miss your old
+friends in Woodford. Of course, Meg isn't far away here at Radcliffe,
+but she is so busy with Harvard students as well as getting her degree
+that you don't see much of each other. Suppose you come now and take a
+walk with me, or else you ride with Dick and I'll go on the street car.
+I am only going to church for a rehearsal. You know I am to sing a solo
+on Sunday," Esther continued in a persuasive tone.
+
+"Yes, and of course Dick would so much prefer taking his sister to ride
+than taking his wife," the other girl returned rather pettishly,
+abstractedly rubbing the surface of the mahogany table which already
+shone with much polishing.
+
+Esther shook her head. "Well, even though you won't confess it,
+something is the matter with you, Betty. You have not been a bit like
+yourself since you were in Woodford last fall. Something must have
+happened there. I don't wish your confidence unless you desire to give
+it me. But even while we were in New York, you were cold and stiff and
+unlike yourself, especially to Anthony Graham, and I thought you used to
+be such good friends."
+
+There was no lack of color now in Betty Ashton's face, although she
+still kept her back turned to her older sister.
+
+"We are not special friends any longer," she returned coldly, "though I
+have nothing in the world against Anthony. Of course, I consider that he
+is rather spoiled by his political success, being elected to the
+Legislature when he is so young, but then that is not my affair." Betty
+now turned her face toward her sister. "I suppose I need something to
+do--that is really what is the matter with me, Esther dear. Lately I have
+been thinking that I am the only one of the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire
+girls who amounts to nothing. And I wanted so much to be loyal to our
+old ideals. There is Meg at college, Sylvia and Nan both studying
+professions, Edith married and Eleanor about to be. You have Dick, your
+music and your house, Mollie is relieving her mother of the
+responsibility of their big establishment and even little Faith had a
+poem published in a magazine last week. It is hard to be the only
+failure. Then of course there is Polly!"
+
+"Never a word from her in all this time?"
+
+"Not a line since the note I received from her last October asking me
+not to be angry if I did not hear from her in a long time. No one has
+the faintest idea what has become of her--none of her friends, not even
+Mollie knows. I suppose she is all right though, because her mother is
+satisfied about her. Yet I can't help wondering and feeling worried.
+What on earth could have induced Polly O'Neill to give up her splendid
+chance with Miss Adams, a chance she has been working and waiting for
+these two years?" Betty shrugged her shoulders. "It is stupid of me to
+be asking such questions. No one yet has ever found the answer to the
+riddle of Polly O'Neill. Perhaps that is why she is so fascinating. I
+always do and say exactly what people expect, so no wonder I am
+uninteresting. But there, run along, Esther, I hear Dick whistling for
+you. Don't make him late. Perhaps I'll get over having 'the dumps' while
+you are away."
+
+Esther started toward the door. "If only I could think of something that
+would interest or amuse you! I can't get hold of Polly to cheer you up,
+but I shall write Mrs. Wharton this very evening and ask her to let
+Mollie come and spend Christmas with us. I believe Dick has already
+asked Anthony Graham. You won't mind, will you, Betty? We wanted to have
+as many old friends as possible in our new house."
+
+Once again Betty flushed uncomfortably, although she answered carelessly
+enough. "Certainly I don't mind. Why should I? Now do run along. Perhaps
+I'll make you and Dick a cake while you are gone. An old maid needs to
+have useful accomplishments."
+
+Esther laughed. "An old maid at twenty-one! Well, farewell, Spinster
+Princess. I know you are a better cook and housekeeper than I am." In
+answer to her husband's more impatient whistling Esther fled out of the
+room, though still vaguely troubled. Betty was not in good spirits, yet
+what could be the matter with her? Of course, she missed the stimulus of
+Polly's society; however, that in itself was not a sufficient
+explanation. What could have happened between Betty and Anthony?
+Actually, there had been a time when Dick had feared that they might
+care seriously for each other. Thank goodness, that was a mistake!
+
+Left alone Betty slowly drew out a letter from inside her blue gown. It
+had previously been opened; but she read it for the second time. Then,
+lighting a tall candle on the mantel, she placed the letter in the
+flame, watching it burn until finally the charred scraps were thrown
+aside.
+
+Betty had evidently changed her mind in regard to her promise to her
+sister. For instead of going into the kitchen a very little while later
+she came downstairs dressed for the street. Opening the front door, she
+went out into the winter sunshine and started walking as rapidly as
+possible in the direction of one of the poorer quarters of the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI--The Fire-Maker's Desire
+
+
+Outside the window of a small florist's shop Betty paused for an
+instant. Then she stepped in and a little later came out carrying half a
+dozen red roses and a bunch of holly and fragrant cedar. Curiously
+enough, her expression in this short time had changed. Perhaps the
+flowers gave the added color to her face. She was repeating something
+over to herself and half smiling; but, as there were no people on the
+street except a few dirty children who were playing cheerfully in the
+gutter, no one observed her eccentric behavior.
+
+[Illustration: She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar]
+
+  "As fuel is brought to the fire
+  So I purpose to bring
+  My strength,
+  My ambition,
+  My heart's desire,
+  My joy
+  And my sorrow
+  To the fire
+  Of humankind.
+  For I will tend,
+  As my fathers have tended,
+  And my father's fathers,
+  Since time began,
+  The fire that is called
+  The love of man for man,
+  The love of man for God."
+
+Betty's delicate, eyebrows were drawn so close together that they
+appeared almost heart shaped. "I fear I have only been tending the love
+of a girl for herself these past few months, so perhaps it is just as
+well that I should try to reform," she thought half whimsically and yet
+with reproach. "Anyhow, I shall telephone Meg Everett this very
+afternoon, though I am glad Esther does not know the reason Meg and I
+have been seeing so little of each other lately, and that the fault is
+mine, not hers."
+
+By this time the girl had arrived in front of a large, dull, brown-stone
+building in the middle of a dingy street, with a subdued hush about it.
+Above the broad entrance hung a sign, "Home For Crippled Children." Here
+for a moment Betty Ashton's courage seemed to waver, for she paused
+irresolutely, but a little later she entered the hall. A week before she
+had promised an acquaintance at the church where Esther was singing to
+come to the children's hospital some day and amuse them by telling
+stories. Since she had not thought seriously of her promise, although
+intending to fulfill it when she had discovered stories worth the
+telling. This morning while worrying over her own affair it had occurred
+to her that the best thing she could do was to do something for some one
+else. Hence the visit to the hospital.
+
+Yet here at the moment of her arrival Betty had not the faintest idea of
+what she could do or say to make herself acceptable as a visitor. She
+had a peculiar antipathy to being regarded as a conventional
+philanthropist, one of the individuals with the instinct to patronize
+persons less fortunate.
+
+Long ago when through her wealth and sympathy Betty had been able to do
+helpful things for her acquaintances, always she had felt the same
+shrinking sense of embarrassment, disliking to be thanked for
+kindnesses. Yet actually in his last letter Anthony Graham had dared
+remind her of their first meeting, an occasion she wished forgotten
+between them both.
+
+The matron of the children's hospital had been sent for and a little
+later she was conducting Betty down a broad, bare hall and then ushering
+her into a big sunlit room, not half so cheerless as its visitor had
+anticipated.
+
+There were two large French windows on the southern side and a table
+piled with books and magazines. Near one of these windows two girls were
+seated in rolling chairs reading. They must have been about fourteen
+years old and did not look particularly frail. Across from them were
+four other girls, perhaps a year or so younger, engaged in a game of
+parchesi. On the floor in the corner a pretty little girl was sewing on
+her doll clothes and another was hopping merrily about on her crutches,
+interfering with every one else. Only two of the cot beds in the room
+were occupied, and to these Betty's eyes turned instinctively. In one
+she saw a happy little German maiden with yellow hair and pale pink
+cheeks propped up on pillows, busily assorting half a dozen colors of
+crochet cotton. In the other a figure was lying flat with the eyes
+staring at the ceiling. And at the first glance there was merely an
+effect of some one indescribably thin with a quantity of short, curly
+dark hair spread out on the white pillow.
+
+The matron introduced Betty, told her errand, and then went swiftly
+away, leaving her to do the rest for herself, and the rest appeared
+exceedingly difficult. The older girls who were reading closed their
+books politely and bowed. Yet it was self-evident that they would have
+preferred going on with their books to hearing anything their visitor
+might have to tell. Among the parchesi players there was a hurried
+consultation and then one of them looked up. "We will be through with
+our game in a few moments," she explained with a note of interrogation
+in her voice.
+
+"Oh, please don't stop on my account," the newcomer said hastily.
+
+On the big table Betty put down her roses and evergreens, not liking to
+present them with any formality under the circumstances. She could see
+that the little girl who was sewing in the corner was smiling a welcome
+to her and that the little German M�dchen in bed was pleased with her
+winter bouquet. For she had whispered, "Sch�n, wundersch�n," and stopped
+assorting her crochet work. Then the child on crutches came across the
+floor, and picking up one of the roses placed it on the pillow by the
+dark-eyed girl, who showed not the least sign of having noticed the
+attention.
+
+"She will look at it in a moment if she thinks we are not watching her,"
+explained Betty's one friendly confidant, motioning to a chair to
+suggest that their visitor might sit down if she wished.
+
+It was an extremely awkward situation. Betty sat down. She had come to
+make a call at a place where her society was not desired and though they
+were only children, and she a grown woman, still she had no right to
+intrude upon their privacy. She found herself blushing furiously.
+Besides, what story had she to tell that would be of sufficient interest
+to hold their attention? Had she not thought of at least a dozen, only
+to discard them all as unsuitable?
+
+"I believe you were going to entertain us, I suppose with a fairy
+story," began one of the girls, still keeping her finger between the
+covers of Little Women. It was hard luck to be torn away from that
+delightful love scene between Laurie and Jo to hear some silly tale of
+princes and princesses and probably a golden apple when one was fourteen
+years old. However, this morning's visitor was so pretty it was a
+pleasure to look at her. Besides, she had on lovely clothes and was
+dreadfully embarrassed. Moreover, she was sitting quite still and
+helpless instead of poking about, asking tiresome questions as most
+visitors did. One could not avoid feeling a little sorry for her instead
+of having to receive her pity.
+
+Both wheeled chairs were now rolled over alongside Betty and Little
+Women was closed and laid on the table. The next instant the parchesi
+game was finished and the four players glanced with greater interest at
+their guest. The girl who had been dancing about on her crutches hopped
+up on the table.
+
+"I am 'Cricket' not on the hearth, but on the table at this moment," she
+confided gayly; "at least, that is what the girls here call me and it is
+as good a name as any other. Now won't you tell us your name?"
+
+"Betty Ashton," the visitor answered, still feeling ill at ease and
+angry and disgusted with herself for not knowing how to make the best of
+the situation. Yet she need no longer have worried. For there was some
+silent, almost indescribable influence at work in the little company
+until almost irresistibly most of its occupants felt themselves drawn
+toward the newcomer. Of course, Polly O'Neill would have described this
+influence as the Princess' charm and that is as good an explanation as
+any other. But I think it was Betty Ashton's ability to put herself in
+other people's places, to think and feel and understand for them and
+with them. Now she knew that these eight girls, poor and ill though they
+might be, did not want either her pity or her patronage.
+
+"Well, fire away with your tale, Miss Ashton," suggested Cricket
+somewhat impatiently, "and don't make it too goody-goody if you can help
+it. Most of us are anxious to hear." Cricket had pretty gray eyes and a
+great deal of fluffy brown hair, but otherwise the face was plain,
+except for its clever, good-natured expression. She gave a sudden side
+glance toward the figure on the bed only a dozen feet away and Betty's
+glance followed hers.
+
+She saw that the red rose had been taken off the pillow and that the
+eyes that had been staring at the ceiling were gazing toward her.
+However, their look was anything but friendly.
+
+For some foolish, unexplainable reason the girl made Betty think of
+Polly. Yet this child's eyes were black instead of blue, her hair short
+and curly instead of long and dark. And though Polly had often been
+impatient and dissatisfied, thank heaven she had never had that
+expression of sullen anger and of something else that Betty could not
+yet understand.
+
+For Betty had of course to turn again toward her auditors and smile an
+entirely friendly and charming smile.
+
+"May I take off my hat first? It may help me to think," she said. Then
+when Cricket had helped her remove both her coat and hat she sat down
+again and sighed.
+
+"Do you know I have come here under absolutely false pretences? I
+announced that I had a story to tell, but I simply can't think of
+anything that would entertain you in the least and I should so hate to
+be a bore."
+
+Then in spite of her twenty-one years, Betty Ashton seemed as young as
+any girl in the room. Moreover, she was exquisitely pretty. Her auburn
+hair, now neatly coiled, shone gold from the light behind her. Her
+cheeks were almost too flushed and every now and then her dark lashes
+drooped, shading the frank friendliness of her gray eyes. She wore a
+walking skirt, beautifully tailored, and a soft white silk blouse with a
+knot of her same favorite blue velvet pinned at her throat with her
+torch-bearer's pin.
+
+Agnes Edgerton, the former reader of Little Women, made no effort to
+conceal her admiration. "Oh, don't tell us a story," she protested, "we
+read such a lot of books. Tell us something about yourself. Real people
+are so much more interesting."
+
+"But there isn't anything very interesting about me, I am far too
+ordinary a person," Betty returned. Then she glanced almost desperately
+about the big room. There was a mantel and a fireplace, but no fire, as
+the room was warmed with steam radiators. However, on the mantel stood
+three brass candlesticks holding three white candles and these may have
+been the source of Betty's inspiration.
+
+Outside the smoky chimney tops of old Boston houses and factories reared
+their heads against the winter sky, and yet Betty began her story
+telling with the question: "I wonder if you would like me to tell you of
+a summer twelve girls spent together at Sunrise Hill?" For in the glory
+of the early morning, with the Camp Fire cabin at its base, Sunrise Hill
+had suddenly flashed before her eyes like a welcome vision.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII--"The Flames in the Wind"
+
+
+When an hour later Betty Ashton finished her story of the first years of
+the Camp Fire girls at Sunrise Hill on the table nearby three candles
+were burning and about them was a circle of eager faces.
+
+Moreover, from the cedar which Betty had bought as a part of her winter
+bouquet a miniature tree had been built as the eternal Camp Fire emblem
+and there also were the emblems of the wood gatherer, fire maker and
+torch bearer constructed from odd sticks which Cricket had mysteriously
+produced in the interval of the story telling.
+
+"That is the most delightful experience that I ever heard of girls
+having, a whole year out of doors with a chance to do nice things for
+yourself, a fairy story that was really true," Cricket sighed finally.
+"Funny, but I never heard of a Camp Fire club and I have never been to
+the country."
+
+"You have never been to the country?" Betty repeated her words slowly,
+staring first at Cricket and then at the other girls. No one else seemed
+surprised by the remark.
+
+In answer the younger girl flushed. "I told you I had not," she repeated
+in a slightly sarcastic tone. "But please don't look as if the world had
+come to an end. Lots of poor people don't do much traveling and we have
+five children in the family besides me. Of course, I couldn't go on
+school picnics and Sunday-school excursions like the others." Here an
+annoyed, disappointed expression crept into Cricket's eyes and she grew
+less cheerful.
+
+"Please don't spoil our nice morning together, Miss Ashton, by beginning
+to pity me. I hate people who are sorry for themselves. That is the
+reason we girls have liked you so much, you have been so different from
+the others."
+
+Quietly Betty began putting on her wraps. She had been watching
+Cricket's face all the time she had been talking of Sunrise Hill, of the
+grove of pine trees and the lake. Yet if the thought had leapt into her
+mind that she would like to show her new acquaintance something more
+beautiful than the chimney tops of Boston, it was now plain that she
+must wait until they were better friends.
+
+"But you'll come again soon and tell us more?" Cricket next asked,
+picking up their visitor's muff and pressing it close to her face with
+something like a caress. Then more softly, "I did not mean to be rude."
+
+Betty nodded. "Of course I'll come if you wish me. You see, I am a
+stranger in Boston and lonely. But I'll never have anything half so
+interesting to tell you as the history of our club with such girls as
+Polly O'Neill, Esther and Meg and the rest for heroines. Nothing in my
+whole life has ever been such fun. Do you know I was wondering----"
+
+Here a slight noise from the figure on the cot near them for an instant
+distracted Betty's attention. Yet glancing in that direction, there
+seemed to have been no movement. Not for a single moment did she believe
+the little girl had been listening to a word she was saying. For she had
+never caught another glance straying in her direction.
+
+"You were wondering what?" Agnes Edgerton demanded a little impatiently
+and Betty thought she saw the same expression on all the faces about
+her.
+
+"Wondering if you would like my sister, Esther, to come and sing our old
+Camp Fire songs to you some day?" This time there was no mistaking it.
+Her audience did look disappointed. "And wondering something else, only
+perhaps I had best wait, you may not think it would be fun, or perhaps
+it might be too much work--" Betty's face was flushed, again she seemed
+very little older than the other girls about her.
+
+"Yes, we would," Agnes Edgerton answered gravely, having by this time
+quite forgotten the interruption of Little Women in her new interest. "I
+know what you mean, because almost from the start I have been wondering
+the same thing. Do you think we girls could start a Camp Fire club here
+among ourselves, if you would show us how? Why, it would make everything
+so much easier and happier. There are some of the Camp Fire things we
+could not do, of course, but the greater part of them----"
+
+Here, with a sudden exclamation of pleasure, Cricket bounced off her
+perch on the table and began dancing about in a fashion which showed how
+she had earned her name.
+
+"Hurrah for the Shut-In Camp Fire Girls and the fairy princess who
+brought us the idea!" she exclaimed. Then, surveying Betty more
+critically, "You know you do look rather like a princess. Are you one in
+disguise?"
+
+Betty laughed. She had not felt so cheerful in months. For with Agnes
+and Cricket on her side, the thought that had slowly been growing in her
+mind would surely bear fruit. But how strangely her old title sounded!
+How it did bring back the past Camp Fire days!
+
+"No," she returned, "I am not a princess or anything in the least like
+one. But we can all have new names in our Camp Fire club if we like,
+select any character or idea we choose and try to live up to it. Next
+time I come I will try and explain things better and bring you our
+manual. Now I really must hurry."
+
+Betty Ashton was moving quickly toward the door, accompanied by Cricket,
+when a hand reached suddenly out from the side of a bed clutching at her
+skirt.
+
+"I would rather have that Polly girl come the next time instead of you;
+I am sure I should like her much better," the voice said with a
+decidedly foreign accent. Then Betty looked quickly into the pair of
+black eyes that had been so relentlessly fixed upon the ceiling.
+
+"I don't wonder you would rather have the Polly girl instead of me," she
+returned smiling; "most people would, and perhaps you may see her some
+day if I can find her. Only I don't know where she is just at present."
+
+So this strange child had been listening to her story-telling after all.
+Curious that her fancy had lighted upon Polly, but perhaps the name
+carried its own magic.
+
+Out in the hall Betty whispered to her companion:
+
+"Tell me that little girl's name, won't you, Cricket? I didn't dare ask
+her. What a strange little thing she is, and yet she makes me think of
+an old friend. Already I believe she has taken a dislike to me."
+
+The other girl shrugged her shoulders. "Don't be flattered, she dislikes
+everybody and won't have anything to do with the rest of us if she can
+help it. Yet her name is Angelique, that is all we know. 'The Angel' we
+call her when we wish to make her particularly furious. She is French,
+and we believe an orphan, because no one comes to see her, though she
+has letters now and then, which she hides under her pillow," Cricket
+concluded almost spitefully, since curiosity was one of her leading
+traits.
+
+On her way back home, oddly enough, Betty found her attention divided
+between two subjects. The first was natural enough; she was greatly
+pleased with her morning's experience. Perhaps, if she could interest
+her new acquaintances in forming a Camp Fire, her winter need not be an
+altogether unhappy and dissatisfied one.
+
+There had been a definite reason for her leaving Woodford, which she
+hoped was known to no one but herself. It had been making her very
+unhappy, but now she intended rising above it if possible. Of course,
+work in which she felt an interest was the best possible cure; there was
+no use in preaching such a transparent philosophy as Esther had earlier
+in the day. But she had no inclination toward pursuing a definite career
+such as Sylvia, Nan and Polly had chosen. The money Judge Maynard had
+left her relieved her from this necessity. But the name of Polly
+immediately set her thinking along the second direction. What was it in
+the unfortunate child at the hospital that had brought Polly so forcibly
+before her mind? There was no definite resemblance between them, only a
+line here and there in the face or a slight movement. Could Polly even
+be conscious of the girl's existence? For Betty felt that there were
+many unexplainable forms of mental telegraphy by which one might
+communicate a thought to a friend closely in sympathy with one's own
+nature.
+
+But by this time, as she was within a few feet of Esther's and Dick's
+home, Betty smiled to herself. She had merely become interested in this
+particular child because she seemed more unfortunate and less content
+than the others and she meant to do what she could to help her, no
+matter what her personal attitude might be. As for Polly's influence in
+the matter, it of course amounted to nothing. Was she not always
+wondering what had become of her best-loved friend and hoping she might
+soon be taken into her confidence?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII--Afternoon Tea and a Mystery
+
+
+Ten days later, returning from another of her now regular visits to the
+hospital, Betty Ashton was surprised by hearing voices inside the living
+room just as she was passing the closed door. Possibly Esther had
+invited some of their new acquaintances in to tea and had forgotten to
+mention it. Now she could hear her own name being called.
+
+Her hair had been blown in every direction by the east wind and she had
+been sitting on the floor at the hospital, building a camp fire in the
+old chimney place, with the grate removed, according to the most
+approved camping methods. Straightening her hat and rubbing her face for
+an instant with her handkerchief, Betty made a casual entrance into the
+room, trying to assume an agreeable society manner to make up for her
+other deficiencies.
+
+It was five o'clock and growing dark, although as yet the lights were
+not on. Esther was sitting at a little round wicker table pouring tea
+and Meg, who had evidently lately arrived, was standing near waiting to
+receive her cup. But in the largest chair in the room with her back
+turned to the opening door was a figure that made Betty's heart behave
+in the most extraordinary fashion. The hair was so black, the figure so
+graceful that for the moment it seemed it could only be one
+person--Polly! Betty's welcome was no less spontaneous, however, when
+Mollie O'Neill, jumping up, ran quickly toward her.
+
+"No, I am not Polly, Betty dear! I only wish I were, for then we should
+at least know what had become of her. But Esther has asked me to spend
+Christmas with you and I hope you are half as glad to see me as I am to
+be with you."
+
+Half an hour later, Esther having disappeared to see about dinner as Meg
+was also to remain for the night, the three old friends dropped down on
+sofa cushions before the fire, Camp Fire fashion, and with the tea pot
+between them began talking all at the same time.
+
+"Do, do tell me everything about Woodford," Betty demanded. "I never
+shall love any place half so well as my native town and I have not heard
+a word except through letters, for ages."
+
+Ceasing her own questioning of Meg in regard to the pleasures of college
+life, Mollie at once turned her serious blue eyes upon her other friend.
+"Haven't heard of Woodford, Betty!" she exclaimed, "what on earth do you
+mean? Then what do you and Anthony Graham talk about when he comes to
+Boston? I know he has been here twice lately, because he told me so
+himself and said you were well."
+
+Suddenly in Esther's pretty sitting room all conversation abruptly ended
+and only the ticking of the clock could be heard. Fortunately the room
+was still in shadow, for unexpectedly Meg's cheeks had turned scarlet,
+as she glanced toward the window with a perfectly unnecessary expression
+of unconcern. But Betty did not change color nor did her gray eyes
+falter for an instant from those of her friend. Yet before she received
+her answer Mollie was conscious that she must in some fashion have said
+the wrong thing.
+
+Yet what could have been the fault with her question? It was a perfectly
+natural one, as Betty and Anthony had always been extremely intimate in
+the old days, ever since Anthony had lived for a year at Mrs. Ashton's
+house. Mollie appreciated the change in the atmosphere, the coldness and
+restraint that had not been there before. Naturally she would have
+preferred to change the subject before receiving a reply, but she had
+not the quickness and adaptability of many girls, perhaps because she
+was too simple and sincere herself.
+
+"Anthony Graham does not come to see me--us, Mollie," Betty corrected
+herself, "when he makes his visits to Boston these days. You see he is
+now Meg's friend more than mine. But you must remember, Mollie dear,
+that Meg has always had more admirers than the rest of us and now she is
+a full-fledged college girl, of course she is irresistible."
+
+Betty Ashton spoke without the least suggestion of anger or envy and yet
+Meg turned reproachfully toward her. Her usually gay and friendly
+expression had certainly changed, she seemed embarrassed and annoyed.
+
+"You know that isn't true, Princess, and never has been," Meg returned,
+rumpling her pretty yellow hair as she always did in any kind of
+perplexity or distress. "I never have even dreamed of being so charming
+as you are. You know that John has always said----"
+
+Alas, if only Polly O'Neill had been present Mollie might in some
+fashion have been persuaded not to speak at this unlucky instant! But
+Polly had always cruelly called her an "enfant terrible." Now Mollie was
+too puzzled to appreciate the situation and so determined to get at the
+bottom of it.
+
+"But does Anthony come to see you and not Betty?" Mollie demanded
+inexorably of the embarrassed girl.
+
+Meg nodded. "Yes, but it is only because Betty----"
+
+"Please don't try to offer any explanation, Meg, I would rather you
+would not. It is most unnecessary," Betty now interrupted gently, in a
+tone that few persons in her life had ever opposed. Then, reaching over,
+she began pouring out fresh cups of tea for her friends. "You need not
+worry, Mollie, Anthony and I are perfectly good friends. We have not
+quarreled, only he has not so much time these days now he is getting to
+be such a distinguished person. But do tell me whether you have the
+faintest idea of what Polly O'Neill is doing, or where she is, or a
+single solitary thing about her?"
+
+Always Mollie's attention could be distracted by any mention of her
+sister's name and it may be that Betty was counting upon this. For Meg
+had gotten up and strolled over toward the window, leaving the two other
+girls comparatively alone.
+
+Bluer and more serious than ever grew Mollie's big, innocent eyes.
+
+"Polly is well, or at least says she is. That much mother confides in
+me," Mollie replied soberly. "But where Polly is or what she is doing I
+have no more idea than you have, not so much perhaps. You were always
+better at understanding her than I have ever been. But then even Miss
+Adams has never heard a line from Polly since she told her good-by in
+New York several months ago. By the way, Betty, Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt
+are going to be playing here in Boston during the holidays. Won't you
+and Esther ask them to your Christmas dinner party?"
+
+Betty at this moment got up from the floor. "Yes, I have seen the
+notices of their coming and I am glad. We can have an almost home
+Christmas, can't we?" Then she walked over toward the window where Meg
+had continued standing, gazing with no special interest out into the
+street. The high wind was still blowing and with it occasional flurries
+of wet snow.
+
+"Do let us draw down the blinds, Meg, it is getting late and is not very
+cheerful outside." With apparent unconsciousness Betty slipped an arm
+about her friend's waist and for another instant they both stared out
+into the almost deserted street.
+
+Across on the farther sidewalk some one was standing, as though waiting
+for a companion. Meg had seen the person before but with no special
+attention. She was too deeply engaged with her own thoughts. Betty was
+differently influenced, for the figure had an oddly pathetic and lonely
+attitude. She could not see the face and the moment she began closing
+the living-room curtain the figure walked away.
+
+Meg chose this same instant for giving her friend a sudden ardent
+embrace and Betty's attention would in any case have been distracted.
+
+With the lights under the rose-colored shades now glowing, and Mollie
+asking no more embarrassing questions, the atmosphere of the living room
+soon grew cheerful again. For Mollie had a great deal of Woodford news
+to tell. Eleanor Meade was getting a beautiful trousseau for her
+marriage with Frank Wharton in the spring and she and Mollie had been
+sewing together almost every day. Eleanor had given up her old ambition
+to become a celebrated artist and was using her taste for color and
+design in the preparation of her clothes. Frank was in business with his
+father and would have a good deal of money, and although Eleanor's
+family was poor she did not intend to have less in her trousseau than
+other girls. Her own skill and work should make up for it.
+
+Billy Webster was succeeding better each month with the management of
+his farm since his father's death. Now and then Mollie went to call on
+Mrs. Webster and not long ago she and Billy had walked out to Sunrise
+cabin. The little house was in excellent condition, although no one had
+lived in it for several years.
+
+"It is wonderfully kind," Mollie explained, "but Billy has his own men
+look after our cabin and make any repairs that are necessary. He even
+keeps the grass cut and the weeds cleared from about the place, so any
+one of us could go out there to live with only a few hours preparation,"
+she ended with her usual happy smile.
+
+For Mollie O'Neill was not self-conscious and did not guess for a moment
+that while she talked both Betty and Meg were engaged with the same
+thought. Was there still nothing more between Mollie and Billy than
+simple friendliness? Once they had believed that there might be
+something, but now the time was passing and they were both free, Mollie
+at home helping her mother with the house, Billy the head of his own
+farm, and yet nothing had happened. Well, possibly nothing ever would
+and they might always simply remain friends, until one or the other
+married some one else.
+
+Suddenly Mollie started and her color faded.
+
+"I am awfully sorry, Betty, I know how silly and nervous you and Polly
+used always to think me, but look, please!" She spoke under her breath
+and pointed toward the closed blind.
+
+There, sharply defined, was the shadow of a head apparently straining to
+see inside the room. It had the effect of a gray silhouette.
+
+The two other girls also changed color, for the effect was uncanny. Then
+Betty laughed somewhat nervously.
+
+"It must be Dick, of course, trying to frighten us, but how silly and
+unlike him!" She then walked as quickly and quietly toward the window as
+possible and without a sign or word of warning drew up the curtain. Some
+one must have instantly jumped backward, for by the time Mollie and Meg
+had also reached the window they could only catch the outline of a
+disappearing figure. It was not possible in the darkness to decide
+whether it was a girl or a young boy.
+
+"Well, it wasn't Dick anyhow," said Betty finally; "probably some child.
+However it might be just as well to go and tell Dick and Esther. They
+would not enjoy a sneak thief carrying off their pretty wedding
+presents. And besides it is time for us to get ready for dinner and I
+haven't yet had time to tell you about my new Camp Fire."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX--Preparations
+
+
+A few mornings afterwards a letter was handed to Betty Ashton at the
+breakfast table, bearing a type-written address. Carelessly opening it
+under the impression that it must be a printed circular she found three
+lines, also type-written, on a sheet of paper and with no signature. It
+read:
+
+"Show whatever kindness is possible to the little French girl,
+Angelique, at the hospital. Pardon her peculiarities and oblige a
+friend."
+
+Without a comment Betty immediately passed the letter to Mollie O'Neill,
+who then gave it to Esther. Esther turned it over to Dr. Ashton, who
+frowned and straightway ceased eating his breakfast.
+
+"I don't like anonymous letters, Betty, even if they seem to be
+perfectly harmless and have the best intentions. Besides, who knows of
+your going to the hospital except our few intimate friends? I wonder if
+this queer child you have spoken of could be responsible for this letter
+herself. One never knows!"
+
+Rather irritably Betty shook her head. "What an absurd supposition,
+Dick. In the first place the child dislikes me so that she will scarcely
+speak to me while I am at the hospital. She seems to like Mollie a great
+deal better. Moreover, she is the only one of the group of girls I made
+friends with who still refuses to come into our Camp Fire. If she wished
+my friendship she might at least begin by being civil."
+
+Always as in former days Esther was quick to interpose between any
+chance of a heated argument between Dick and his sister. Understanding
+this they both usually laughed at her efforts. For as long as they lived
+Dick would scold Betty when he believed her in the wrong, while she
+would protest and then follow his advice or discard it as seemed wisest.
+
+"But, Betty dear, don't you consider that there is a possibility that
+this Angelique may have spoken to some relative or friend of your visits
+to the hospital, who has written you this letter in consequence. You
+see, they may think of you as very wealthy," Esther now suggested.
+
+But before Betty could reply, Mollie O'Neill, who during the moment's
+discussion had been thinking the question over quietly, turned her eyes
+on her friend.
+
+"Have you any idea who has written you, Betty?" she queried.
+
+For no explainable reason Betty flushed. Then with entire honesty she
+answered, "Of course not." Surely the idea that had come into her mind
+was too absurd to give serious consideration.
+
+"By the way, I wonder what I could be expected to do for Angelique?"
+Betty inquired the next instant, showing that her letter had not failed
+to make an impression, no matter if it were anonymous. "She has the best
+kind of care at the hospital; only she seems desperately unhappy over
+something and won't tell any one what it is. I know, of course, that she
+is ill, but the matron tells me she is not suffering and the other girls
+seem quite different. They are as brave and gay as if there were nothing
+the matter. Cricket is the best sport I ever knew."
+
+Dr. Ashton got up from the table, leaning over to kiss Esther good-by.
+
+"Well, don't do anything rash, Lady Bountiful," he protested to Betty.
+"Who knows but you may decide to adopt the little French girl before the
+day is over just because of a mysterious letter. I must confess I am
+extremely glad Judge Maynard's will only permits you to spend your
+income or you would keep things lively for all of us. I've an idea that
+it must have been Anthony Graham who put Judge Maynard up to making that
+kind of will. He must have remembered how you insisted on thrusting your
+money upon him at your first meeting and wished to save you from other
+impostors."
+
+Dick was laughing and it was perfectly self-evident that he was only
+saying what he had to tease his sister. For surely the Princess'
+generosities had been a joke among her family and friends ever since she
+was a little girl. And she was still in the habit of rescuing every
+forlorn person she saw, often with somewhat disastrous results to
+herself.
+
+Betty jumped up quickly from her place at the table, her face suddenly
+grown white and her lips trembling.
+
+"I won't have you say things like that to me, Dick," she returned
+angrily. "Anthony Graham had nothing in the world to do with the money
+Judge Maynard gave me, he has told you a hundred times he had not. But
+just the same I won't have you call him an impostor. Just because you
+don't approve of me is no reason why you should----" But finding her voice
+no longer steady Betty started hastily for the door, only to feel her
+brother's arms about her holding her so close she could not move while
+he stared closely at her downcast face.
+
+"What is the matter, Betty?" he asked quite seriously now. "It isn't in
+the least like you to get into a temper over nothing. You know perfectly
+well that while all of us may reproach you for being so generous we
+would not have you different for anything in the world. As for my
+thinking Anthony Graham an impostor, the thing is too absurd for any
+comment. You know he is my friend and one of the cleverest fellows in
+New Hampshire. Some day he will be a Senator at Washington, but I don't
+think he'll mind even then remembering who gave him his start. When he
+comes here at Christmas I mean to ask him and to tell him you thought it
+necessary to defend him against me."
+
+But by this time Betty had managed to pull herself away from Dick's
+clasp. "If you speak my name to him I shall never forgive you as long as
+I live," she announced and this time managed to escape from the room.
+
+Utterly mystified Dick Ashton gazed at his wife.
+
+"What on earth!" he began helplessly. And Esther nodded at Mollie.
+
+"Won't you find Betty?" she asked.
+
+Mollie had already risen, but she did not go at once in search of her
+friend, for although Mollie O'Neill may not have had as much imagination
+as certain other girls she had a sympathy that perhaps served even
+better.
+
+Out into the hall Esther followed her husband, and after helping him
+into his overcoat she stood for an instant with her hand resting on his
+shoulder. In spite of the change in her circumstances and in spite of
+her own talent and Dick's adoration there was never a day when Esther
+was not in her heart of hearts both humble and deeply puzzled by her
+husband's ardent affection. Of course neither he nor Betty ever allowed
+her to disparage herself these days, but that had not changed the
+essential elements in Esther's lovely nature.
+
+"Dick, don't try to understand," she now said. "I don't think we have
+exactly the right. Anthony and Betty were friends once, you know, and
+you were desperately afraid they might be something more. Well, I don't
+think there is anything between them any longer; whether they have
+quarreled or not is exactly what I don't know. Only if Betty should want
+to do any special thing for this little French girl, please don't oppose
+her. It would be an interest for her and you know we don't want her to
+spend her money on us. She will, you know, if she has any idea that
+there is anything either of us wish that we cannot afford to get.
+Already she says that she is determined to be an old maid so that her
+money can go to----"
+
+Esther blushed but could not have finished her speech as her husband's
+kiss at this instant made it impossible.
+
+Dick turned to go, but came back almost immediately.
+
+"See here, Esther, I would not think of interfering with any sensible
+thing the Princess may wish to do with her money. I only can't let her
+be reckless. But about Anthony Graham. If you think he has treated Betty
+badly or hurt her feelings, or goodness knows what, well I won't stand
+it for a single little instant. He will have to hear what I think of
+him----"
+
+Positively Esther could feel herself turning pale with horror at her
+husband's remark, but fortunately she had the good sense to laugh.
+
+"Richard Ashton," she said, "I am not often firm with you, but if you
+ever dare--Oh goodness, was there ever anything on earth quite so stupid
+as a man can be! No matter what may or may not have happened between
+Betty and Anthony there is nothing that you or I can do or say. You know
+we interfered as hard as we possibly could with Betty's German lover. We
+must leave the poor child to manage some of her own affairs alone.
+Anthony seems to be devoting himself to Meg these days. But he will be
+in Boston at Christmas, so perhaps if it is only a quarrel that has come
+between them they may make it up. But how do you suppose I am ever going
+to be able to get through with all my Christmas church music and give a
+dinner party with Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt present and perhaps have
+Betty's Camp Fire girls here for an afternoon? The child has some scheme
+or other of taking them for a drive so that they may be able to see the
+Christmas decorations and then bringing them home for a party."
+
+"If it is going to tire you, Esther, we will cut it all out," was Dr.
+Ashton's final protest as he disappeared to begin his morning's work.
+Dick had been taken into partnership with an older physician and his
+office was several blocks away.
+
+At his departure Esther breathed a sigh of relief. At least by dwelling
+on her own difficulties she had taken his mind away from Betty's odd
+mood. She did not understand her sister herself, but certainly she must
+be left alone.
+
+Late that afternoon when Betty and Mollie had been doing some Christmas
+shopping in Boston and were sitting side by side on the car, Betty
+whispered unexpectedly:
+
+"See here, Mollie, do you think by any chance it is possible that Polly
+O'Neill could have written me that letter about the little French girl?
+Yes, I realize the question sounds as though I had lost my mind, as
+Polly may be in South America for all I know. Besides, the child never
+heard of Polly until I mentioned her in talking of our old club. But
+somehow, for a reason I can't even try to explain, I keep thinking of
+Polly these days as if there was something she wanted me to do and yet
+did not exactly know how to ask it of me. It used often to be like that,
+you know, Mollie, when we were younger. Polly and I could guess what was
+in the other's mind. We often made a kind of game of it, just for fun.
+Anyhow you will have to try and see what is making that poor child so
+miserable, as she seems to like you better than she does me. Perhaps it
+is because you are so like Polly."
+
+Quietly Mollie nodded. Of course Betty was absurd in her supposition;
+yet, as always, she was perfectly willing to help in any practical way
+that either her erratic sister or Betty suggested.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X--More Puzzles
+
+
+On Christmas eve Mollie and Betty each received notes written and signed
+by Polly herself, postmarked New York City, accompanying small gifts.
+Neither letter made any direct reference to what Polly herself was doing
+nor showed that she had any knowledge of what was interesting her sister
+or friend. Her information in regard to Mollie's presence in Boston, she
+explained, had been received from her mother.
+
+Well, of course, it was good news to hear that at least Polly was alive
+and not altogether forgetful of her old affections, yet there was no
+other satisfaction in the communications from her. Indeed the two
+letters were much alike and on reading her own each girl felt much the
+same emotion. They were loving enough and almost gay, yet the love did
+not seem accompanied by any special faith to make it worth while, nor
+did the gayety sound altogether sincere.
+
+Betty's merely said:
+
+  "My Christmas thought is with you now and always, dear Princess.
+  Trust me and love me if you can. You may not approve of what I am
+  doing, but some day I shall try to explain it to you. I can't ask
+  you to write me unless you will send the letter to Mother and she
+  will forward it. Do nothing rash, dear Princess, Betty, friend,
+  while I am not near to look after you. Your always devoted Polly."
+
+With a little laugh that was not altogether a cheerful one, Betty also
+turned this letter over to Mollie. The two girls were in Betty's bedroom
+with no one else present.
+
+"Like Polly, wasn't it, to tell me not to do anything rash when she was
+not around to run things?" Betty said with a shrug of her shoulders and
+a little arching of her delicate brows.
+
+Mollie looked at her admiringly. Betty had not seemed altogether as she
+used to be in the first few days after her arrival, but recently, with
+the coming of the holidays and the arrival of their old friends, she
+certainly was as pretty as ever. Now she had on an ancient blue silk
+dressing gown which was an especial favorite and her red-brown hair was
+loose over her shoulders. The two friends were resting after a strenuous
+day. In a few hours Esther was to give her first real dinner party and
+they had all been working together toward the great event.
+
+"But why should Polly warn you against rashness under any
+circumstances?" Mollie returned, after having glanced over the note.
+"You are not given to doing foolish things as she is. I suppose because
+Polly is so dreadfully rash herself she believes the same of other
+people."
+
+There was no answer at first except that the Princess settled herself
+more deeply in her big Morris chair. Mollie was lying on the bed near
+by. Then she laughed again.
+
+"Oh, you need not be so sure of my good sense, Mavourneen, as Polly used
+to call you. I may not be rash in the same way that old Pollykins is,
+perhaps because I have not the same courage, yet I may not be so far
+away from it as you think. Only I wish Polly found my society as
+necessary to her happiness as hers is to mine. I simply dread the
+thought of a Christmas without her, and yet she is probably having a
+perfectly blissful time somewhere with never a thought of us."
+
+Hearing a sudden knock at their door at this instant Mollie tumbled off
+the bed to answer it. Yet not before she had time to reply, "I am not so
+sure Polly is as happy as you think." Then the little maid standing
+outside in the hall thrust into her arms four boxes of flowers.
+
+Nearly breathless with excitement Mollie immediately dropped them all
+into her friend's lap.
+
+"See what a belle you are, Betty Ashton!" she exclaimed. "Here you are
+almost a stranger in Boston and yet being showered with attentions."
+
+Gravely Betty read aloud the address on the first box.
+
+"Miss Mollie O'Neill, care of Dr. Richard Ashton," she announced,
+extending the package to the other girl with a mock solemnity and then
+laughing to see Mollie's sudden blush and change of expression. A moment
+later the second box, also inscribed with Mollie's name, was presented
+her. But the final two were addressed to Betty, so that the division was
+equal.
+
+It was Mollie, however, who first untied the silver cord that bound the
+larger of her two boxes, and Betty was quite sure that the roses inside
+were no pinker or prettier than her friend's cheeks.
+
+"They are from Billy," Mollie said without any hesitation or pretense of
+anything but pleasure. "He says that he has sent a great many so that I
+may wear them tonight and tomorrow and then again tomorrow night to the
+dance, as I care for pink roses more than any flower. It was good of Meg
+to ask Billy to come over for her College holiday dance. I should have
+been dreadfully embarrassed with one of Meg's strange Harvard friends
+for my escort. And Billy says he would have been abominably lonely in
+Woodford with all of us away."
+
+Mollie's second gift was a bunch of red and white carnations, bearing
+Anthony Graham's card. "How kind of Anthony to remember me," she
+protested, "when he was never a special friend of mine. But of course he
+sent me the flowers because I happened to be yours and Esther's guest
+and he is coming here to dinner tonight with Meg. But do please be less
+slow and let me see what you have received."
+
+For almost reluctantly Betty Ashton seemed to be opening her gifts.
+Nevertheless she could not conceal a quick cry of admiration at what she
+saw first. The box was an oblong purple one tied with gold ribbon. But
+here at Christmastide, in the midst of Boston's cold and dampness, lay a
+single great bunch of purple violets and another of lilies of the
+valley. Hurriedly Betty picked up the card that lay concealed beneath
+them. Just as Mollie's had, it bore Anthony Graham's name, and formal
+good wishes, but something else as well which to any one else would have
+appeared an absurdity. For it was a not very skilful drawing of a small
+ladder with a boy at the foot of it.
+
+"Gracious, it must be true that John is making a fortune in his broker
+shop in Wall Street, as Meg assures me!" Betty exclaimed gayly the next
+moment, thrusting her smaller box of flowers away, to peep into the
+largest of the four offerings. "I did not realize John had yet arrived
+in Boston, Meg was not sure he would be able to be with her for the
+holidays. It is kind of him, I am sure, to remember me, isn't it Mollie?
+And there is not much danger of my being unable to wear John's flowers
+with any frock I have, he has sent such a variety. I believe I'll use
+the mignonette tonight, it is so fragrant and unconventional."
+
+Betty spoke almost sentimentally and this state of mind was so unusual
+to her that for a moment Mollie only stared in silence. However, as her
+friend disappeared into the bathroom to begin her toilet for the evening
+Mollie remarked placidly, "The violets would look ever so much prettier
+with your blue dress."
+
+Esther's round mahogany table seated exactly twelve guests. On her right
+was Richard Hunt, the actor, with Anthony Graham on her left, next him
+was Meg, then Billy Webster and Mollie O'Neill. To the right of Dr.
+Ashton, Margaret Adams had the place of honor, then came a Harvard law
+student who was a special admirer of Meg's, then a new friend of
+Esther's and then John Everett and Betty Ashton. As the entire
+arrangement of the company had been made through Betty's suggestion,
+doubtless she must have chosen the companions at dinner that she most
+desired. Polly's friend, Richard Hunt, sat on her other side with Meg
+and Anthony nearly opposite.
+
+There had been no lack of cordiality on Betty's part toward any one of
+their visitors. On Anthony's arrival with Meg Everett she had thanked
+him for his gift in her most charming manner, but had made no reference
+to the card which he had enclosed nor to the fact that she preferred
+wearing other flowers than his. Meg was looking unusually pretty tonight
+and very frankly Betty told her so. Her soft blond hair was parted on
+the side with a big loose coil at the back and a black velvet ribbon
+encircled her head. Professor Everett was not wealthy and Meg's college
+education was costing him a good deal, therefore she had ordinarily only
+a moderate sum of money for buying her clothes and no special talent for
+making the best of them. However, this evening her dress had been a
+Christmas gift from her brother John and, as it was of soft white silk
+and lace, particularly becoming to Meg's pretty blondness. Her blue eyes
+were shining with a kind of veiled light and her color came and went
+swiftly. She seemed just as ingenuous and impulsive as she had ever
+been, until it was difficult to know what must be the truth about her.
+Several times during the evening Esther told herself sternly that of
+course Meg had a perfect right to accept Anthony Graham's attentions if
+she liked, for there had never been any definite understanding between
+him and her sister, and indeed that she had disapproved of him in the
+past. Yet now Anthony Graham, in spite of his origin, might have been
+considered a good match for almost any girl. He was a distinguished
+looking fellow, with his brilliant foreign coloring, his dark hair and
+high forehead. Esther recalled having once felt keenly sorry for him
+because the other girls and young men in their group of friends had not
+considered him their social or intellectual equal. Now he was entirely
+self-possessed and sure of himself. Yet he did seem almost too grave for
+their happy Betty; possibly it was just as well he had transferred his
+interest to Meg. No one could ever succeed in making Meg Everett serious
+for any great length of time. She was still the same happy-go-lucky girl
+of their old Camp Fire days whom "a higher education" was not altering
+in the least. Yet the "higher education" may have given her subjects of
+conversation worthy of discussing with Anthony, for certainly they spent
+a great part of the time talking in low tones to each other.
+
+Betty appeared in the gayest possible spirits and had never looked
+prettier. Richard Hunt seemed delighted with her, and John Everett had
+apparently returned to the state of admiration which he had always felt
+when they had been boy and girl together in Woodford. Indeed Betty did
+feel unusually animated and excited; she could hardly have known why
+except that she had spent a rather dull winter and that she was
+extremely excited at seeing her old friends again. And then she and Mr.
+Hunt had so much to say to each other on a subject that never failed to
+be interesting--Polly!
+
+Neither he nor Miss Adams had the faintest idea of what had become of
+that erratic young person, although Margaret Adams had also received a
+Christmas letter from her. But where she was or what she was doing, no
+one had the faintest idea. It was evident that Mr. Hunt highly
+disapproved of Polly's proceedings, and although until the instant
+before Betty had felt exactly as he did, now she rallied at once to her
+friend's defense.
+
+"Mr. Hunt, you must not think for an instant that Polly was ungrateful
+either to Miss Adams or to you for your many kindnesses, only she had to
+do things in her own Polly fashion, one that other people could not
+exactly understand. But if one had ever been fond of Polly," Betty
+insisted, "you were apt to keep on caring for her for some reason or
+other which you could not exactly explain. Not that Polly was as pretty
+or perhaps as sweet as Mollie."
+
+Several times during the evening Betty had noticed that every now and
+then her companion had glanced with interest toward Mollie O'Neill.
+However, when he now agreed with her last statement; she was not sure
+whether his agreement emphasized the fact of Mollie's superior
+prettiness, or that Polly was an unforgettable character.
+
+Without a doubt Esther's and Dick's first formal dinner party was a
+pronounced success. The food was excellent, the two maids, one of whom
+was hired for the occasion, served without a flaw. There was only one
+trifling occurrence that might have created a slight disturbance, and
+this situation fortunately Betty Ashton saw in time to save.
+
+She happened to be sitting at the side of the table that faced the
+windows. Earlier in the evening one of these windows had been opened in
+order to cool the room and the curtain left partly up. The wind was not
+particularly high and no one seemed to be inconvenienced. But most
+unexpectedly toward the close of the dinner a gale must have sprung up.
+Because there was a sudden, sharp noise at the window and without
+warning the blind rolled itself to the topmost ledge with startling
+abruptness, as if some one had pulled sharply at the cord and then let
+go.
+
+Then another noise immediately followed, not so startling but far more
+puzzling. The first racket had caused every member of the little company
+to start instinctively. Then at the same instant, before Richard Ashton,
+who chanced to be pouring a glass of water for Margaret Adams, could get
+up from his place, Betty turned to Richard Hunt. John Everett happened
+to be talking to his other neighbor at the moment.
+
+"Mr. Hunt," Betty asked quickly, "won't you please close that window for
+us? It is too cold to have it open and besides one does not altogether
+like the idea that outside persons might be able to look into the room."
+
+Perhaps Richard Hunt was just a moment longer at the window in the
+performance of so simple a task than one might have expected, but no one
+observed it.
+
+As he took his place again and Betty thanked him she looked at him with
+a slight frown.
+
+"Did you see a ghost, Mr. Hunt?" she queried. "It is not a comfortable
+night even for a ghost to be prowling about. It is too lonely an
+occupation for Christmas eve."
+
+Richard Hunt smiled at his companion in return. "Oh, I am always seeing
+ghosts, Miss Ashton," he answered; "I suppose it is because I have an
+actor's vivid imagination."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI--A Christmas Song and Recognition
+
+
+The entire number of guests who had been together at Esther's and Dick
+Ashton's Christmas-eve dinner, agreed to be at church the following
+morning in order to hear Esther sing.
+
+In spite of the fact that Boston is one of the most musical of American
+cities and Esther the most modest of persons, even in so short a time
+her beautiful voice had given her an enviable reputation. The papers in
+giving notice of the morning service had mentioned the fact that the
+solo would be given by Mrs. Richard Ashton. But church music must have
+been Esther's real vocation, for no matter how large the congregation
+nor how difficult her song she never felt any of her old nervousness and
+embarrassment. For one thing she was partly hidden behind the choir
+screen, so she need not fear that critical eyes were upon her; she could
+be alone with her music and something that was stronger and higher than
+herself.
+
+On Christmas morning Betty entered their pew with her brother Dick,
+Mollie O'Neill and Billy Webster. She was wearing a dark green
+broadcloth with a small black velvet toque on her red-brown hair and a
+new set of black fox furs that her brother and sister had given her that
+morning for a Christmas present. She was pale and a little tired from
+yesterday's festivities, so that a single red rose which had come to her
+from some unknown source that morning, was the only really bright color
+about her except for the lights in her hair. Mollie was flushed and
+smiling with the interest in the new place and people and the
+companionship of tried friends.
+
+Betty thought that Margaret Adams also seemed weary when she came in
+with Mr. Hunt a few moments later. She was glad that the great lady
+happened to be placed next her so that she might feel the thrill of her
+nearness. For genius is thrilling, no matter how simple and
+unpretentious the man or woman who possesses it. Margaret Adams wore a
+wonderful long Russian sable coat and a small velvet hat and, just as
+naturally as if she had been another girl, slipped her hand into Betty's
+and held it during the service.
+
+So that in spite of her best efforts Betty could not keep her attention
+from wandering now and then. She knew that Margaret Adams was almost
+equally as devoted to Polly O'Neill as she herself and wondered what she
+thought of their friend's conduct. She wished that they might have the
+opportunity to talk the matter over before Miss Adams finished her stay
+in Boston. Then, though realizing her own bad manners, Betty could not
+help being a little curious over the friendship between Miss Adams and
+Mr. Hunt. They seemed to have known each other such a long, long time
+and to have acted together so many times. Of course Margaret Adams was
+several years older, but that scarcely mattered with so unusual a
+person.
+
+Moreover, there were other influences at work to keep Betty Ashton's
+mind from being as firmly fixed upon the subject of the morning's sermon
+as it should have been. For was she not conscious of the presence of Meg
+and John Everett and Anthony Graham in the pew just back of her? And
+though it did seem vain and self-conscious of her, she had the sensation
+that at least two pairs of eyes were frequently concentrated upon the
+back of her head or upon her profile should she chance to turn her face
+half way around.
+
+When the offertory was finally announced and Esther began the first
+lines of her solo, not only was her sister Betty's attention caught and
+held, but that of almost every other human being in the church. It was
+not a beautiful Christmas day, outside there were scurrying gray clouds
+and a kind of bleak coldness. But the church was warmly and beautifully
+lighted, the altar white with lilies and crimson with roses, speaking of
+passion and peace. And Esther's voice had in it something of almost
+celestial sweetness. She was no longer a girl but a woman, for Dick's
+love and a promise of a fulfilment equally beautiful had added to her
+natural gift a deeper emotional power. And she sang one of the simplest
+and at the same time one of the most beautiful of Christmas hymns.
+
+Betty was perfectly willing to allow all the unhappiness and
+disappointments of the past few months to relieve themselves in the
+tears that came unchecked. Then she saw Margaret Adams bite her lips and
+close her eyes as if she too were shutting out the world of ordinary
+vision to live only in beautiful sound and a higher communion.
+
+  "Hark! the herald angels sing
+  Glory to the new-born King;
+  Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
+  God and sinners reconciled!
+  Joyful, all ye nations, rise,
+  Join the triumph of the skies;
+  With the angelic host proclaim,
+  Christ is born in Bethlehem.
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King.
+
+  "Christ, by highest heaven adored;
+  Christ, the everlasting Lord;
+  Late in time behold Him come,
+  Offspring of a virgin's womb.
+  Veil'd in flesh the Godhead see,
+  Hail, th' Incarnate Deity!
+  Pleased as man with man to dwell,
+  Jesus, our Emmanuel!
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King.
+
+  "Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
+  Hail, the Sun of righteousness!
+  Light and life to all He brings,
+  Risen with healing in His wings.
+  Mild He lays His glory by,
+  Born that man no more may die;
+  Born to raise the sons of earth,
+  Born to give them second birth.
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King."
+
+At the close of the service, turning to leave the church, Betty Ashton
+felt a hand laid on her arm, and glancing up in surprise found Anthony
+Graham's eyes gazing steadfastly into hers.
+
+"We are friends, are we not, Betty? You would not let any
+misunderstanding or any change in your life alter that?" he asked
+hurriedly.
+
+For just an instant the girl hesitated, then answered simply and
+gracefully:
+
+"I don't think any one could be unfaithful to an old friendship on
+Christmas morning after hearing Esther sing. It was not in the least
+necessary, Anthony, for you to ask me such a question. You know I shall
+always wish you the best possible things."
+
+Then, without allowing the young man to reply or to accompany her down
+the aisle, she hurried away to her other friends, and, slipping her arm
+firmly inside Mollie O'Neill's, she never let go her clasp until they
+were safely out of church.
+
+"It is no use, Meg, nothing matters," Anthony Graham said a quarter of
+an hour later, when he and Margaret Everett were on their way home
+together, John having deserted them to join the other party. "The fact
+is, Betty does not care in the least one way or the other what I say or
+do."
+
+"Then I wish you would let me tell her the truth," Meg urged. "You see,
+Anthony, the Princess and I have always been such intimate friends and I
+have always admired her more than any of the other girls. I don't wish
+her to misunderstand us. She may not be so brilliant as Polly, nor so
+clever as Sylvia or your sister Nan, but somehow Betty is--well, I
+suppose she is what a real Princess ought to be. That is what Polly
+always declared. It is not just because she is pretty and generous, but
+she is so high-minded. Nothing would make her even appear to take
+advantage of a friend." And Meg sighed, her usually happy face clouding.
+
+In silence, then, the girl and young man walked on for a few moments
+when Anthony replied: "You must do as you like, of course, Meg. I have
+no right to ask you anything else. But this understanding between us
+means everything in the world to me and it was your own offer in the
+beginning."
+
+Meg nodded. "Yes, I know; but truly I don't think as much of my idea as
+I did at first. Still I am willing to keep quiet for a while longer if
+you wish it."
+
+At this moment there was no further opportunity for intimate
+conversation, for Meg's Harvard friend, Ralph Brown, made his appearance
+with a five-pound box of candy, elaborately tied with red ribbon, under
+his arm, and an expression on his face that suggested politely but
+firmly that Anthony Graham retire for the present, leaving the field to
+him.
+
+Of their friends in Boston only Margaret Adams and Richard Hunt had been
+invited by Esther and Dr. Ashton to have an informal Christmas dinner
+with them. For the dinner party the evening before had been such a
+domestic strain upon the little household that they wished to spend the
+following day quietly. But it was impossible to think of Margaret Adams
+dining alone in a great hotel, and she would certainly accept no
+invitation from her wealthier and more fashionable acquaintances in
+Boston. Moreover, Betty hoped that in the afternoon there might be a
+chance to talk of Polly. At the beginning no one had dreamed of
+including Richard Hunt in the invitation, as he was a comparative
+stranger; but Dick, having taken a sudden fancy to him, had calmly
+suggested his returning for Christmas day without due consultation with
+his family.
+
+Five minutes after starting for home with Dick and Esther, Mollie, Betty
+and Miss Adams, Mr. Hunt, with a murmured excuse which no one
+understood, asked to be excused from going further. He would join the
+party later if possible, but should he chance to be delayed dinner must
+on no account be kept waiting for him.
+
+His conduct did seem rather extraordinary, and although Dick and Esther
+betrayed no surprise, it was plain enough that Margaret Adams felt
+annoyed. She had introduced Mr. Hunt to her friends and so naturally
+felt responsible for his conduct.
+
+Though the man was aware of his apparent eccentricity and though his
+manners were usually nearly perfect, he now deliberately turned away
+from the little company. And in spite of his half-hearted suggestion of
+re-joining them he had little idea at present of when he would return.
+Deliberately he retraced his steps to the church which he had quitted
+only a few moments before.
+
+Already the place was nearly deserted. On the sidewalk the clergyman was
+saying farewell to a few final members of his congregation, while inside
+the sexton was closing the doors of the two side aisles, although the
+large door in the center still remained open. Hurriedly Mr. Hunt
+entered. And there, just as he had hoped to find her, was the figure of
+a girl sitting in a rather dejected attitude in one of the last pews.
+She had on a dark dress and a heavy long coat and about her head a thick
+veil was tied.
+
+Before he could reach her she had risen and was starting away.
+
+"Wait here for a moment, Miss O'Neill; we can find no other spot so
+quiet in which to have a talk," the man said sternly.
+
+Then as Polly flashed an indignant glance at him, attempting to pass as
+though she had neither seen nor recognized him, he added:
+
+"I know I have no right to intrude upon you, but unless you are willing
+to give me some explanation of why you are here and what you are doing,
+I shall tell the friends who are nearer to you than I am of my having
+seen you not only this morning, but last night as well."
+
+"Oh, please don't!" Polly's voice was trembling. "Really, truly, I am
+not doing anything wrong in staying here in Boston and not letting
+people hear. My mother knows where I am and what I am doing and of
+course I am not alone. Yes, it was utterly silly and reckless of me to
+have peeped in at Esther's dining-room window last night, but I was so
+dreadfully lonely and wanted to see everybody so much. How could I have
+dreamed that that wretched curtain would go banging away up in the air
+as it did? But anyhow, Mr. Hunt, I shall always be everlastingly
+grateful to you for not telling on me last night. I did not suppose you
+saw me and certainly never imagined you could have recognized me when I
+crouched down in the shadow."
+
+Unexpectedly Polly O'Neill laughed. "What a perfect idiot I should have
+looked if you had dragged me in before the dinner party like a spy or a
+thief or a beggar! I can just imagine Esther's and Mollie's
+expressions."
+
+"Yes, but all this is not quite to the point, Miss Polly," Richard Hunt
+continued, speaking however in a more friendly tone. "Am I to tell
+Margaret Adams and Betty Ashton that I have discovered you, or will you
+take me into your secret and let me decide what is best to be done
+afterwards?"
+
+"But you have not the right to do either the one thing nor the other,"
+the girl argued, lifting her veil for an instant in order to see if
+there was any sign of relenting in the face of her older friend.
+
+There was not the slightest. And Polly recognized that for once in her
+life she was beaten.
+
+"Don't say anything today then, please," she urged, looking into her
+pocketbook and finding there a card with a name and address written upon
+it. "But come to see me tomorrow if you like. And don't think that I am
+ungrateful or--or horrid," she ended abruptly, rushing away so swiftly
+that it would have been impossible for any one to have followed her
+without creating attention.
+
+Rather grimly Richard Hunt gazed at the card he held in his hand. It
+bore a name that was not Polly O'Neill's and the address of a quiet
+street in Boston. What on the face of the earth could she be doing? It
+was impossible to guess, and yet it was certainly nothing very unwise if
+her mother knew and approved of it.
+
+Whether or not he had the right to find out, Richard Hunt had positively
+decided to take advantage of his recognition of Polly O'Neill and insist
+upon her confidence. He could not have explained even to himself why he
+was so determined on this course of action. However, it was true, as her
+friend Betty Ashton had insisted the night before, whether or not you
+happened to feel a liking for Polly, you were not apt to forget her.
+
+In the past few months it was curious how often he had found himself
+wondering what had become of the girl. He recalled her having run away
+several years before to make her first stage appearance and then their
+meeting in Margaret Adams' drawing room in London later on. Well,
+perhaps curiosity was not alone a feminine trait of character, for
+Richard Hunt felt convinced he would be more at peace with himself and
+the world when he had learned Polly's story from her own lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII--After Her Fashion Polly Explains
+
+
+The next afternoon a dark-haired woman a little past thirty came into
+the boarding house sitting room to see Richard Hunt before Polly made
+her appearance.
+
+"I am Mrs. Martins, Miss O'Neill's chaperon," she explained. "Or if I am
+not exactly her chaperon at least we are together and I am trying to see
+that no harm befalls her. No, she is not calling herself by her own
+name, but she will prefer to give you her own reason for that. I have
+met her mother several times, so that of course I understand the
+situation." Mrs. Martins was a woman of refinement and of some education
+and her pronunciation of her own name showed her to be of French origin.
+
+Already the situation was slightly less mystifying. Yet there was still
+a great deal for Polly to make clear if she chose to do so. However, it
+was curious that she was taking so long a time to join them.
+
+Mrs. Martins continued to talk about nothing in particular, so it was
+evident that she intended making no betrayals. Now and then she even
+glanced toward the door in some embarrassment, as though puzzled and
+annoyed by her companion's delay. And while Richard Hunt was answering
+her politely if vaguely, actually he was on the point of deciding that
+Polly did not intend coming down stairs at all. Well perhaps it would
+serve him right, for what authority did he have for forcing the girl's
+confession? And she was certainly quite capable of punishing him by
+placing him in an absurd situation.
+
+Nevertheless nothing was farther from Polly O'Neill's intention at the
+present moment. She was merely standing before her mirror in her tiny
+upstairs bedroom trying to summon sufficient courage to meet her guest
+and tell her story.
+
+Once or twice she had started for the door only to return and stare at
+herself with intense disapproval. She had rubbed her cheeks with a crash
+towel until at least they were crimson enough, although the color was
+not very satisfying, and she had arranged her hair three times, only to
+decide at the last that she had best have left it alone at first.
+
+Now she made a little grimace at her own image, smiling at almost the
+same instant.
+
+"My beloved Princess or Mollie, I do wish you could lend me your good
+looks for the next half hour," she murmured half aloud. "It is so much
+easier to be eloquent and convincing in this world when one happens to
+be pretty. But I, well certainly I would serve as a perfect illustration
+of 'a rag and a bone and a hank of hair' at this moment if at no other."
+
+Polly glanced down at her costume with more satisfaction than she had
+found in surveying her face. It was not in the least shabby, but a very
+charming dress which her mother had sent as a part of her Christmas box.
+The dress was of dark red crepe de Chine with a velvet girdle and collar
+of the same shade. And although under ordinary circumstances it might
+have been becoming, today Polly was not wrong in believing that she was
+not looking even her poor best. She was tired and nervous. Of course it
+did not matter so very much what Mr. Hunt might think of the story she
+had to tell him, but later on there would be many other persons whom she
+would have to persuade to accept her point of view. And somehow she felt
+that if she failed to convince her first listener she must fail with the
+others.
+
+Then unexpectedly, before hearing the sound of her approach, Richard
+Hunt discovered a cold hand being extended to shake his, and in a voice
+even more chilling Polly O'Neill was apologizing for having kept him
+waiting. Yet on the way down the steps had she not positively made up
+her mind to be so cordial and agreeable that her visitor should forget
+her other deficiencies?
+
+With a feeling of amazement mixed with despair Polly seated herself in
+the darkest corner of a small sofa next Mrs. Martins, deciding that it
+was quite useless, that she should attempt no explanation. Mr. Hunt and
+her companion could talk together about the weather if they chose, for
+she could not think of a single word to say. Afterwards her visitor
+could go away and give any account of her he wished, although naturally
+this might frustrate all her hopes and ambitions and make her dearest
+friends angry with her for life. Yet if one were always to suffer from
+stage fright at all the critical moments of one's career what else could
+be expected?
+
+At this moment Mrs. Martins excused herself and left the room. Polly saw
+her go with a characteristic shrug of her shoulders and an odd glance at
+her visitor. The moment had come. Mr. Hunt would discover that she had
+not even the grace to keep her promise, and heaven alone knew what he
+would soon think of her.
+
+Yet after saying good-by to her companion he continued talking in the
+kindest possible fashion, telling her news of Esther and Dick Ashton,
+saying how much he admired Betty and Mollie.
+
+Indeed in less than five minutes Polly had actually managed to forget
+the reason for her visitor's call and was asking him questions about her
+old friends, faster than they could be answered.
+
+"Was their play, A Woman's Wit, still as great a success as it had been
+at the start? Was Margaret Adams well or had the winter's work used her
+up? Did Betty Ashton seem to have any special admirer in Boston?"
+
+Actually in a brief quarter of an hour Polly's eyes were shining and her
+lips smiling. Curled up comfortably on her sofa she suddenly appreciated
+that she was having the most agreeable time she had enjoyed in months.
+Then again her expression changed and her brief radiance vanished. Yet
+this time her companion understood.
+
+"Miss Polly," he said quickly, "please don't feel that after what
+happened yesterday I still mean to force you to make a confidant of me.
+The truth is I did want very much to hear that all was well with you and
+that you were not making any kind of mistake. I am not going to be a
+coward, so I confess that I came here today expecting to force your
+secret from you simply because I had an advantage over you. But, of
+course, now that we have been talking together I can see that you are
+all right, even if you do look rather tired and none too cheerful. So I
+want to apologize and then I shall go away and not worry you again. Also
+you may feel entirely assured that I shall not mention having seen you
+to any one."
+
+The man had risen from his chair, but before he could move a step
+forward, Polly had clasped her hands together and was gazing at him
+imploringly.
+
+"Oh, please, Mr. Hunt, don't go," she begged. "All of a sudden I have
+begun to feel that if I don't tell some one my secret and ask you to
+approve of me or at least to try to forgive me for what I am doing I
+shall perish." Actually Polly would now have pushed her visitor back
+into his chair if he had not sat down again so promptly as to make it
+unnecessary.
+
+"You are sure you wish to confide in me, Miss Polly? Of course you
+understand that I will tell no one. But if your mother knows and
+approves of you, why surely no other person is necessary," he argued.
+
+In reply the girl laughed. "Mother is an angel and for that reason
+perhaps she does not always approve or understand me exactly. In this
+case she is just permitting me to have my own way because she promised
+to let me try and do what I could to become a successful actress and she
+never goes back on her word. Of course my method seems queer to her and
+probably will to you. But after all it is the way I see things and one
+can't look out of any one's eyes but one's own. Surely you believe that,
+Mr. Hunt?"
+
+Of course any one who really understood Polly O'Neill, Betty Ashton for
+instance, would have understood at once that she was now beginning to
+explain her own wilfulness. Yet her question did sound convincing, for
+assuredly one can have no other vision than one's own.
+
+Richard Hunt nodded sympathetically, although Polly was looking so
+absurdly young and so desperately in earnest that he would have
+preferred to smile.
+
+She was leaning forward with her chin resting on her hand and gazing
+intently at him. What she saw was a man who seemed almost middle-aged to
+her. And yet to the girl he seemed almost ideally handsome. His features
+were strong and well-cut, the nose aquiline, the mouth large and firm.
+And he was wearing the kindest possible expression. For half an instant
+Polly's thoughts flew away from herself. Surely if any one in the world
+could be worthy of Margaret Adams it was Richard Hunt. Then she settled
+down to the telling of her own story.
+
+"You know of course, Mr. Hunt, without my having to say anything more
+about it, that ever since I was a little girl I have dreamed and hoped
+and prayed of some day becoming a great actress. Mother says that there
+was some one in my family once, one of my Irish aunts, I believe, who
+ran away from home in order to go on the stage and was never recognized
+again. I have thought sometimes that perhaps I inherited her ambition.
+One never knows about things like that, life is so queer. Anyhow when a
+dozen girls in Woodford formed a Camp Fire and we lived together in the
+woods for over a year working and playing, mother and Betty and my
+sister expected me to get over my foolish ideas and learn something
+through our club that might make me adopt a more sensible career. I
+don't mean to be rude to you, Mr. Hunt," Polly was profoundly serious,
+there was now no hint of amusement in her dark blue eyes or in her
+mobile face, "you understand I am only telling you what my family and
+friends thought about people who were actors--not what I think. I don't
+see why acting isn't just as great and useful as the other arts if one
+is conscientious and has real talent. But the trouble with me has been
+all along that I haven't any real talent. I suppose if I had been a
+genius from the first no one would have cared to oppose me. Well the
+Camp Fire did not influence me against what I wanted to do; it only made
+me feel more in earnest than I had ever been before. For we girls
+learned such a lot about courage and perseverance and being happy even
+if things were not going just the way one liked, that it has all been a
+great help to me recently, more than at any time in my life."
+
+Richard Hunt nodded gravely. "I see," he said quietly, although in point
+of fact he did not yet understand in the least what Polly was trying to
+explain, nor why she should review so much of her past life before
+coming to her point. He was curiously interested, although ordinarily he
+might have been bored by such a disjointed story.
+
+Polly was too intense at the moment to have bored anyone. There she sat
+in her red dress against the darker background of the sofa with her
+figure almost in shadow and the light falling only upon her odd, eager
+face.
+
+"I ran away from Miss Adams and from you, not because I was such a
+coward that I meant to give up the thing I was trying for, but because I
+knew that I must have a harder time if I was ever to amount to anything.
+You see people were trying to make things so easy for me and in a way
+they were making them more difficult. Margaret gave me that place in her
+company when I did not deserve it; you tried to show me how to act when
+I could not learn; my friends were complimenting me when all the time
+they must have known I was a failure. I couldn't bear it, Mr. Hunt;
+really I could not. I am lots of horrid things, but I am not a fraud.
+Then Margaret told me what a difficult time she had at the beginning of
+her career and how no one had helped her. Of course she meant to make me
+feel that I might be more successful because of my friends' aid, but I
+did not see things just that way. Oh, I do hope you had to work
+dreadfully hard at the beginning of your profession and had lots of
+failures," Polly concluded so unexpectedly and so solemnly that this
+time Richard Hunt could not refrain from laughing.
+
+"Oh no, it wasn't all plain sailing for me either, Miss Polly, and it
+isn't now for that matter, if it is of any help to you to know it," he
+added, realizing that his companion was absolutely unconscious of having
+said anything amusing.
+
+"Before I gave up trying to act Belinda I got a small position in a
+cheap stock company." Polly had at last reached the point of her story.
+"The company has been traveling through New England all winter and is
+still on the road. We only happened to be in Boston during the holidays.
+I have been playing almost any kind of part, sometimes I am a maid,
+sometimes a lady-in-waiting to the queen; once or twice, when the star
+has been ill, I have had to take the character of the heroine. Of course
+all this must sound very silly and commonplace to you, Mr. Hunt, but
+honestly I am learning a few things: not to be so self-conscious for one
+thing and to work very, very hard."
+
+"Too hard, Miss Polly, I am afraid," Richard Hunt replied, looking
+closely at his companion and feeling oddly moved by her confession.
+Perhaps the girl's effort would amount to nothing and perhaps she was
+unwise in having made it, nevertheless one could not but feel sorry that
+her friends had suspected her of ingratitude and lack of affection and
+that she was engaged in some kind of foolish escapade. Richard Hunt felt
+extremely guilty himself at the moment.
+
+"Oh no, I am not working too hard or at least not too hard for my
+health," Polly argued. "You see both my mother and Sylvia are looking
+after me. Sylvia made me promise her once, when I did not understand
+what she meant, that I would let her know what I was doing all this
+winter. So I have kept my promise and every once and a while good old
+Sylvia travels to where I happen to be staying and looks me over and
+gives me pills and things." Polly smiled. "You don't know who Sylvia is
+and it is rather absurd of me to talk to you so intimately about my
+family. Sylvia is my step-sister, but she used to be merely my friend
+when we were girls. She is younger than I am but a thousand times
+cleverer and is studying to be a physician. She has not much respect for
+my judgment but she is rather fond of me."
+
+"And your chaperon?" Perhaps Mr. Hunt realized that he was asking a good
+many questions when he and Polly O'Neill were still comparative
+strangers; yet he was too much concerned for her welfare at present to
+care.
+
+Polly did not seem to be either surprised or offended by his
+questioning, but pleased to have some one in whom she might confide.
+
+"Oh, just at first mother sent one of her old friends about everywhere
+with me. But when she got tired we found this Mrs. Martins who was
+having a hard time in New York and needed something to do. She is really
+awfully nice and is teaching me French in our spare moments. She used to
+be a dressmaker, I believe, but could not get enough work to do."
+Suddenly Polly straightened up and put out her hand this time in an
+exceedingly friendly fashion.
+
+"Goodness, Mr. Hunt, what a dreadfully long time I have been keeping you
+here and how good you have been to listen to me so patiently!" she
+exclaimed. "You will keep my secret for me, won't you? This winter I
+don't want my friends to know what I am trying to do or to come to see
+me act. I have not improved enough so far."
+
+Still holding Polly's hand in a friendly clasp, her visitor rose.
+
+"But you will let me come, won't you?" he urged. "You see I am in your
+secret now and so I am different from other people. Besides I am very
+grateful to you for your faith in me and I don't like to remember now
+that I first tried bullying you into confiding in me."
+
+Polly's answering sigh was one of relief. "I don't seem to mind even
+that, although I was angry and frightened at first," she returned. "I
+don't usually enjoy doing what people make me do. But if you think you
+really would like to come to see me play, perhaps I should be rather
+glad. Only you must promise not to let me know when you are there, nor
+what you think of my acting afterwards."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII--A Place of Memories
+
+
+
+"I wonder, Angel, if you had ever heard of my friend, Polly O'Neill,
+before I mentioned her name to you?" Betty Ashton asked after a few
+moments of silence between the two girls, when evidently Betty had been
+puzzling over this same question.
+
+Angel shook her head. "Never," she returned quietly.
+
+Five months had passed since their first meeting and now the scene about
+them was a very different one from the four bare walls of a hospital,
+and the little French girl was almost as completely changed.
+
+It was early spring in the New Hampshire hills and the child and young
+woman were seated outside a cabin of logs with their eyes resting
+sometimes on a small lake before them, again on a dark group of pine
+trees, but more often on a sun-tipped hill ahead where the meadows
+seemed to lie down in green homage at her feet.
+
+Everywhere there were signs of the earth's eternal re-birth and
+re-building. The grain showed only a tiny hint of its autumn harvest of
+gold, but the grass, the flowers, the new leaves on the bushes and trees
+were at their gayest and loveliest. Notwithstanding there was a breeze
+cool enough to make warm clothes a necessity, and Betty wore a long dark
+blue cloth cloak, while her companion, who was lying at full length in a
+steamer chair, was covered with a heavy rug. Yet the girl's delicate
+white hands were busily engaged in weaving long strands of
+bright-colored straws together.
+
+"Why did you think I had ever heard of your friend, Princess?" she
+queried after a short pause.
+
+[Illustration: "Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?"]
+
+Keeping her finger in a volume of Tennyson's poems which she had been
+supposed to be reading, the older girl gazed thoughtfully and yet almost
+unseeingly into the dark eyes of her companion. "I don't know exactly,"
+she replied thoughtfully, "only for some strange reason since our
+earliest acquaintance you have always made me think of Polly. You don't
+look like her, of course, though there is just a suggestion in your
+expression now and then. Perhaps because you were so interested in her
+when I began telling of our Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls. I don't
+believe you would ever have been able to endure me you know, Angel dear,
+if you had not liked hearing me talk of Polly; then think of what good
+times we should both have missed!"
+
+Across the little French girl's face a warm flush spread.
+
+"It is like you to say 'we' should have missed," she replied softly.
+"But I never hated you, you were always mistaken in believing that. From
+the morning you first came to the hospital and ever afterwards I thought
+you the prettiest person I had ever seen in my life and one of the
+sweetest. It was only that in those early days I was too miserable to
+speak to any one. Always I was afraid I should break down if I tried to
+talk, so when the other girls attempted being nice to me I pretended I
+was sullen and hateful when in reality I was a coward. It was just the
+same when you started the 'Shut-In Camp Fire' among the girls. I would
+not join, I would not take the slightest interest in the beginning for
+much the same reason. But you were always so patient and agreeable to me
+and so was Miss Mollie. Then there was always Cricket!" Smiling, she
+paused for a moment listening.
+
+Inside Sunrise cabin both girls could hear the noise of several persons
+moving about as though deeply engaged in some important business.
+
+"I suppose I ought to go in and help," Betty remarked in a slightly
+conscience-smitten tone, "but Mollie does so enjoy fussing about getting
+things ready. And in spite of all my efforts and stern Camp Fire
+training I shall never be so good a cook as she is. Besides, both Mollie
+and Cricket informed me politely, after I finished cleaning our rooms
+and had set the luncheon table, that I was somewhat in the way. I
+suppose I had best go in, though. Is there anything I can do for you
+first, Angel? Cricket is beating that cake batter so hard it sounds like
+a drum."
+
+Betty had half risen from her chair when the expression in her
+companion's face made her sit down again. "What is it?" she asked.
+
+For a moment the other girl's fingers ceased their busy weaving. "You
+have never asked me anything about myself, Princess, in spite of all the
+wonderful things you have done for me," she began. "I don't want to bore
+you, but I should like----"
+
+With a low laugh Betty suddenly hunched her chair forward until it was
+close up against the larger one.
+
+"And I, I am perfectly dying to hear, you must know, you dear little
+goose, to talk about boring me! Don't you know I am one of the most
+curious members of my curious sex? I have not asked you questions
+because I did not feel I had the right unless you wished to tell. But
+possibly I asked that question about Polly O'Neill just to give you a
+chance. Really I don't know."
+
+In spite of this small confession, not for worlds would Betty Ashton
+have allowed the sensitive little French girl to have learned another
+reason for her questioning. It was odd and certainly unreasonable, yet
+in all her recent kindness and care of Angelique she had continued to
+feel that in some mysterious fashion her friend, Polly O'Neill, was
+encouraging and aiding her. There was some one at work, assuredly,
+though she had no shadow of right in believing it to be Polly. For
+though she had confided in no one, the first anonymous letter in regard
+to the ill girl had not been the last one. In truth there must have been
+half a dozen in all, postmarked at different places and all of them
+unsigned and yet showing a remarkably intimate knowledge of the growing
+friendship between the two girls.
+
+The first step had been natural and simple enough. For with her usual
+enthusiasm after her visit to the hospital Betty had immediately set
+about forming a Camp Fire. She had sent for all the literature she could
+find on the subject, the club manual and songs. Then she and Mollie,
+during her visit, and sometimes Meg, had taught the new club members as
+much as possible of what they had themselves learned during the old days
+at Sunrise Hill.
+
+For the first few meetings of the club in the great, sunny hospital room
+there was one solitary girl who would not show the least interest in the
+new and delightful proceedings. Indeed she kept on with her stupid
+gazing up toward the ceiling as if she were both deaf and blind.
+
+However, one day when she believed no one looking and while the other
+girls were talking of their future aims and ambitions and of the ways in
+which their new club might help them, unexpectedly Betty Ashton had
+caught sight of Angelique, with her dark eyes fixed almost despairingly
+upon her.
+
+The other girls were all busy, some of them sewing on their new
+ceremonial Camp Fire costumes of khaki, others making bead bands or
+working at basket weaving. In the meanwhile they were talking of Camp
+Fire honors to be won in the future and of the new names which they
+might hope to attain.
+
+Therefore, almost unnoticed by any one else, Betty was able to cross
+over to the side of the French girl's bed.
+
+"I was wondering if I could not also do some of that pretty work with my
+hands," the girl began at once, speaking as composedly as if she had
+been talking to Betty every day since their first meeting, although this
+was only the second time that she had ever voluntarily addressed a word
+to her.
+
+Without commenting or appearing surprised, Betty brought over to her
+bedside a quantity of bright straw and straightaway commenced showing
+the girl the first principles of the art of basket-weaving which she had
+learned in the Sunrise Camp Fire. Very little instruction was necessary;
+for, before the first lesson was over, the pupil had learned almost as
+much as her teacher. Indeed the French girl's skill with her hands was
+an amazement to everybody. With her third effort and without assistance,
+Angel manufactured so charming a basket that Betty bore it home in
+triumph to show to her brother and sister. Then quite by accident the
+basket was left in Esther's sitting room, where a visitor, seeing it and
+hearing the story of its weaving, asked permission to purchase it.
+
+After some discussion, and fearful of how the girl might receive the
+offer, Betty finally summoned courage to tell Angelique. Thus
+unexpectedly Betty came upon one of the secrets of her new friend's
+nature. Angel had an inordinate, a passionate desire for making money.
+She was older than any one had imagined her, between fourteen and
+fifteen. Now her hands were no longer clenched on her coverlid nor did
+her eyes turn resolutely to gaze at nothingness. Propped up on her
+pillows, her white fingers were ever busy at dozens of tasks. Betty had
+found a place in Boston where her baskets were sold almost as fast as
+she could make them. Then Angelique knew quite amazing things about
+sewing, so that Esther sent her several tiny white frocks to be
+delicately embroidered, and always the other girls at the hospital were
+asking her aid and advice.
+
+Quite astonishing the doctors considered the girl's rapid improvement.
+Perhaps no one had told them the secret, for she now had an interest in
+life and a chance not to be always useless. Was it curious that she no
+longer disliked Betty Ashton and that she soon became the leading spirit
+in the new Camp Fire?
+
+Afterwards the Wohelo candles were placed on a small table near Angel's
+bed while the girls formed their group about her.
+
+Then one day in early April the Princess had whispered something in
+Angel's ear. It was only a hope or at best a plan, yet, after all, Betty
+Ashton was a kind of fairy godmother to whom all impossible things were
+possible.
+
+For Sunrise cabin was undoubtedly open once again with four girls as its
+occupants--Betty Ashton and Mollie O'Neill, Cricket and "The Angel."
+
+"I am afraid you won't find my story as interesting as you would like it
+to be," Angel said after a moment. "And perhaps it may prejudice you
+against me. I don't believe Americans think of these things as French
+people do. But my father was a ballet master and ever since I was the
+tiniest little girl I had been taught to dance and dance, almost to do
+nothing else. You see I was to be a premi�re danseuse some day," Angel
+continued quite simply and calmly, scarcely noticing that Betty's face
+had paled through sympathy and that she was biting her lips and
+resolutely turning away her eyes from the fragile figure stretched out
+in the long steamer chair.
+
+"I was born in Paris, but when I was only a few years old my father came
+to New York and was one of the assistant ballet masters at your great
+opera house. Ten years later, I think it must have been, I was trying a
+very difficult dance and in some way I had a fall. I did not know it was
+very bad, we paid no attention to it, then this came." The little French
+girl shrugged her shoulders. "My father died soon after and mother tried
+taking care of us both. She did sewing at the theaters and anything else
+she could. She wasn't very successful. One day a chance came for me to
+have special treatment in Boston. I was sent there and mother got some
+other work to do. I have only seen her once in months and months. But
+you can understand now why I am so anxious to make money. I was afraid
+perhaps you would not. I don't want to be a burden on mother always and
+now I think perhaps I need not be."
+
+Angel spoke with entire cheerfulness and decision. It did not seem even
+to have occurred to her that she had been telling her friend an
+amazingly tragic little history. Nor did Betty Ashton wish her to
+realize how deeply affected she was by it. So, jumping up with rather an
+affectation of hurry and surprise, she kissed her companion lightly on
+the cheek.
+
+"Thank you a thousand times for confiding in me, dear, and please don't
+be hopeless about never getting well. See how much you have improved!
+But there comes the first of our guests to lunch, a whole half hour too
+soon. But as long as Billy Webster promised to bring us the mail from
+Woodford I suppose I must forgive him. Anyhow I must try to keep him
+from worrying Mollie. She would be dreadfully bored to have him see her
+before she is dressed." Betty walked away for a few steps and then came
+back again.
+
+"You will never understand perhaps, Angel, how much my learning to know
+you this winter has done for me. I was dreadfully unhappy over something
+myself, and perhaps I am still, but coming to visit you in Boston and
+then our being together down here has cheered me immensely. I know you
+are a great deal younger than I am, but if Polly O'Neill never writes me
+again or wishes to have anything more to do with me, perhaps some day
+you may be willing to be my very, very intimate friend. You see I have
+not had even a single line from Polly in months and months and I can't
+even guess what on earth has become of her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV--A Sudden Summons
+
+
+Though Billy Webster had brought with him from the village half a dozen
+letters and as many papers, no one of the dwellers in Sunrise cabin was
+able to read anything for three or four hours after his arrival.
+
+For Betty and Mollie were having an informal luncheon. But indeed, ever
+since taking up their abode at the cabin several weeks before, they had
+never passed a single day without guests. For it was too much like old
+times for their Woodford friends to find the door of the little house
+once more hospitably open, with a log fire burning in the big fire place
+in the living room and the movement and laughter of girls inside the old
+cabin and out.
+
+At present there were only the four of them living there together with
+the Ashton's old Irish cook, Ann, as their guardian, chaperon and first
+aid in domestic difficulties. Later on, there would be other members of
+the Sunrise Hill club, who were already looking forward to spending
+their holidays at the cabin.
+
+As a matter of course, Billy Webster was at present their most frequent
+visitor, although his calls were ordinarily short. Almost every morning
+he used to ride up to the cabin on horseback to see if things had gone
+well with his friends during the night, or to ask if there were any
+errands in the village which he could do or have done for them. For you
+may remember that the land on which the cabin stood had been bought from
+Billy's father and was not far from their farm. Billy now seemed to be
+the only one of their former boy friends who was able to come often to
+the old cabin.
+
+John Everett was at work in the broker's office in New York City, Frank
+Wharton had only just returned from his honeymoon journey with Eleanor
+Meade, and Anthony Graham was attending a session of the New Hampshire
+Legislature and probably spending his week ends in visits to Meg
+Everett. There were other men friends, assuredly, who appeared at the
+cabin now and then, but they had fewer associations with the past.
+
+Betty was looking forward to John Everett's coming a little later; but
+she had begged him to wait until they were more comfortably settled and
+the two younger girls had grown accustomed to their new surroundings.
+
+Today Rose Barton and Faith had driven out to the cabin for luncheon and
+Mrs. Crippen, Betty's step-mother with the new small step-brother, who
+was an adorable red-haired baby with the pinkest of cheeks and the
+bluest eyes in the world. Then, soon after lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Frank
+Wharton appeared in their up-to-date motor car, which had been Frank's
+wedding gift from his father.
+
+So it was a simple enough matter to understand why neither Betty nor
+Mollie had the opportunity even to glance inside the envelopes of their
+letters, though Mollie recognized that she had received one from her
+mother and Betty saw that Mrs. Wharton had also written to her. There
+was nothing unusual in this, for Betty and Mrs. Wharton had always
+remained intimate and devoted friends, just as they had been since Betty
+was a tiny girl and Mrs. Wharton, as Mrs. O'Neill, lived across the
+street from the big Ashton house.
+
+Certainly for the time being the two hostesses had their attention fully
+distracted by their social responsibilities. For Mollie had direct
+charge of the luncheon party, while to Betty had fallen the duty of
+seeing that their friends learned to understand one another and to have
+a gay time.
+
+It was a pleasure for her to observe what an interest Faith Barton had
+immediately seemed to feel in her little French girl. For one could only
+think of Angelique as a child, she was so tiny and fragile with all her
+delicate body hidden from view save her quaint, vivid face and slender
+arms.
+
+Faith herself had been a curious child, and though now so nearly grown,
+was not in the least like an every-day person. She was extremely pretty,
+suggesting a fair young saint in an old Italian picture; and still she
+loved dreams better than realities and books more than people.
+Ordinarily she was very shy; yet here in Angelique, Faith believed that
+she had probably found the friend of her heart. The French girl seemed
+romance personified, and delicately and gently she set out to woo her.
+But Angel was not easy to win, she was still cold and frightened with
+all persons except her fairy princess. Nevertheless, Betty sincerely
+hoped that the two girls might eventually learn to care truly for each
+other.
+
+They were so different in appearance that it was an artistic pleasure to
+see them together. Faith was so soft and fair; Angel so dark and with
+such possibilities of restrained vivacity and passion. Then the older
+girl knew so little of real life, while the younger one had already
+touched its sorrows too deeply.
+
+After all, it was really Faith's sudden attachment that kept the guests
+at the cabin longer than they had intended to remain.
+
+At four o'clock, fearing the excitement too much for her prot�g�, Betty
+had persuaded the girl to retire to bed. Faith had at once insisted on
+having tea alone in the room with Angel so that they might have a chance
+for a really intimate conversation. It was Faith, however, who did all
+the talking, nor did she even have the satisfaction of knowing that her
+new acquaintance had enjoyed her. Certainly the French girl was going to
+be difficult; yet perhaps to a romantic nature mystery is the greatest
+attraction.
+
+Actually it was almost six o'clock when the last visitor had finally
+departed from Sunrise cabin and Mollie and Betty had a few quiet moments
+together. It had been a beautiful day and now when the sun was sinking
+behind the hill, spreading its radiance over the world, the two friends
+stepped outside the cabin door for a short breathing spell.
+
+Betty had completely forgotten her unopened letters; she was thinking of
+something entirely different, and her gray eyes were not free from a
+certain wistfulness as she looked around the familiar landscape. All day
+long, although she had done her best at concealment, she had felt
+vaguely restless and unhappy. There had been no definite reason, except,
+perhaps, the pathetic story confided to her earlier in the day.
+
+Suddenly Mollie O'Neill turned toward her friend, at the same instant
+drawing two letters from her pocket.
+
+"I declare, Betty dear, I have not had a single moment of leisure all
+day, not even time to read mother's letter. Have you? I do hope she had
+nothing of special importance to say. I thought she might possibly come
+and see us for a while this afternoon."
+
+Seeing Mollie open Mrs. Wharton's note and beginning to read it, Betty
+immediately followed her example. But the moment after both girls turned
+their eyes from studying the sheets of paper before them to stare
+curiously at each other.
+
+"How very extraordinary and how very unlike mother!" exclaimed Mollie
+O'Neill in a puzzled fashion.
+
+"Surely she must know that it is quite out of the question for us to do
+what she asks," Betty went on, as if continuing her friend's sentence.
+"She understands that we have just come to the cabin and that we have
+promised to take the best kind of care of Angel and Cricket with Dr.
+Barton's assistance. Of course, Mollie, you may have to do what your
+mother says, but do please make her understand that it is impossible for
+me. I wish she was not so insistent, though, it makes it dreadfully
+difficult to refuse. Does your letter say that you must leave for New
+York City as early as possible tomorrow and join your mother at the
+Astor Hotel?"
+
+Mollie nodded, still frowning. "If mother wished us to go to New York
+with her on business, or pleasure, or for whatever reason, I cannot see
+why she did not wait and let us all go together tomorrow. I simply can't
+see why she should rush off this morning as her letter says and leave us
+to follow the next day. But I suppose if you can get some one to stay on
+here at the cabin with you, dear, that I must do as mother asks. You
+see, she writes that it is a matter of great importance that has called
+her away and that she is relying on my being with her."
+
+Reading her own letter for the second time, Betty folded it thoughtfully
+and replaced it inside the envelope. "Of course you must go, Mollie,
+without a shadow of a doubt," she answered positively. "Rose and Faith
+will come out here and stay for a few days and Dr. Barton will be with
+them at night. I shall be rather glad to have them know Angel better; it
+might help her in a good many ways. The thing that troubles me is
+whether I ought to go with you. You see your mother also writes that she
+is relying on having me with her as well. Though she does not give me
+her reason, still she is very positive. She says that my coming to New
+York at the present time will mean a great deal to me personally, and
+moreover she particularly desires me to be with you." Betty slowly shook
+her head. "I don't see exactly how I can refuse; do you, Mollie? I don't
+believe your mother has ever been really angry with me in my life and I
+should so hate her to be now. Besides I think it would be rather fun to
+go, and of course Rose would look after things for a few days."
+
+"Then it is decided?" and Mollie breathed a sigh of mingled relief and
+pleasure. "Well, I must go in at once and telephone Billy and ask him to
+look up time-tables and things. Mother has sent me a check big enough to
+pay our expenses if you do not happen to have the money at the cabin
+with you."
+
+All the hours following that evening and in the early morning were too
+busy with preparations and explanations to allow of much conjecture; yet
+in the back of their minds both girls were trying to work out the same
+problem.
+
+What conceivable thing could have happened to make Mrs. Wharton summon
+them to New York in this odd fashion? Could it have anything to do with
+Polly? But if Polly had been taken suddenly ill, would Mrs. Wharton not
+have given them some slight warning, some preparation for the shock that
+might lie ahead of them? Yet it was idle to make vain guesses or to
+worry without cause. In a short while Mrs. Wharton would, of course,
+explain the whole situation.
+
+As passengers on the earliest afternoon train that left Woodford for New
+York City next day, Mollie and Betty had already forgotten their first
+opposition to this journey to New York. All at once it appeared like a
+very delightful and natural excursion. If Mrs. Wharton had occasion to
+spend several days in New York what more agreeable than spending the
+time with her? There would be the shops and theaters to visit and a
+glimpse at the new spring fashions. Moreover, Betty did not altogether
+object to the idea of possibly seeing John Everett. They were old
+friends and his open admiration and attention meant a great deal to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV--"Little Old New York"
+
+
+Mrs. Wharton did not seem to consider that an explanation was imperative
+immediately upon the arrival of the two girls in New York. At the
+Forty-second street station she met them in a taxi, and certainly in
+traveling to their hotel through the usual exciting crush of motors,
+carriages and people there was no opportunity for serious questioning.
+
+They were to go to a musical as soon as dinner was over and there was
+just sufficient time to dress. So Betty went almost at once to her own
+room adjoining Mrs. Wharton's, while Mollie occupied the room with her
+mother.
+
+Once while Mrs. Wharton was adjusting the drapery on a new frock which
+she had purchased for her daughter only that afternoon, Mollie turned
+toward her mother with her blue eyes suddenly serious. Up to that
+instant she had been too much absorbed in her frock to think of anything
+else.
+
+"Why in the world, mother, did you send for us to join you in New York
+so unexpectedly? If you were thinking of coming, why did you not motor
+out and tell us? Or you might at least have telephoned," she said.
+
+Mrs. Wharton's face was not visible, as she was engaged for the moment
+in the study of the new gown. "I made up my mind quite hurriedly, dear.
+There was nothing I could explain over the telephone. Besides, I have
+heard you and Betty say a dozen times that nothing gave you as much
+pleasure as a trip taken without any special discussion or preparation.
+Don't you think we will have a charming time, just the three of us,
+dining at the different hotels, going to the theaters? I believe one
+calls it 'doing New York.' But hurry, now, and finish fixing your hair.
+I must go and see if I can be of any assistance to the Princess." And
+Mrs. Wharton hurried off without even attempting to answer her
+daughter's question.
+
+Almost the same result followed a more deliberate attempt at
+cross-examination which took place at breakfast the following morning.
+This time both Mollie and Betty started forth as determined questioners.
+Why had they been summoned so suddenly to New York? What was the very
+important reason for their presence? It was all very charming, of
+course, and frankly both girls were delighted with the opportunity that
+had been given them. Still they both thought it only natural and fair
+that they should be offered some solution to the puzzle of their
+mysterious and hasty letters.
+
+Mrs. Wharton only laughed and shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly,
+in a manner always suggestive of Polly. She did not see why she had to
+be taken to task so seriously because of an agreeable invitation. Had
+she said that there was some urgent reason for her request? Well, was it
+not sufficient that she wished the society of the two girls?
+
+Then deliberately picking up the morning paper Mrs. Wharton refused to
+listen to any further remarks addressed to her. A few moments
+afterwards, observing that her companions had wandered from their
+original topic and were criticizing the appearance of a young woman a
+few tables away, a smile suddenly crumpled the corners of her mouth.
+
+"Mollie, Betty, there are the most wonderful advertisements in the
+papers this morning of amazing bargains. Mollie, you and I both need new
+opera cloaks dreadfully and Mr. Wharton has said we might both have
+them. Of course we will shop all morning, but what shall we do tonight?
+Go to the theater, I suppose. When country people are in town an evening
+not spent at the theater is almost a wasted one."
+
+Mollie laughed. "This from mother!" she exclaimed. "Think what you used
+to tell poor Polly about the wickedness of things theatrical! But of
+course I should rather go than do anything else."
+
+Mrs. Wharton glanced toward Betty, who appeared to be blushing slightly
+without apparent cause.
+
+"I am afraid I can't go with you, if you don't mind," she explained.
+"You see I promised John Everett that I would see him tonight. He wrote
+asking me to give him my first evening, but I thought it better to make
+it the second."
+
+"Well, bring John along with us, Betty dear," Mrs. Wharton returned. "I
+should like very much to have him and besides I don't believe I should
+like you to go out with him alone in New York or to see him here at the
+hotel unless I am with you. People are more conventional here, dear,
+than in a small place."
+
+Betty nodded. "Of course, we shall be delighted to be with you. What
+play shall we see?"
+
+Thoughtfully Mrs. Wharton picked up for the second time the temporarily
+discarded paper and commenced studying the list of theatrical
+attractions.
+
+"There is a little Irish play that has been running here in New York for
+about a month that is a great success," she said. "I think I should very
+much like to see it if you girls don't mind. It is called Moira. I hope
+we shall be able to get good seats."
+
+The little party of three did not get back to the hotel until after tea
+time that afternoon and were then compelled to lie down, as they were
+completely worn out from shopping. But fatigue made no difference in the
+interest of the toilets which the girls made for the evening. John
+Everett had been invited to dinner as well, and most unexpectedly Mr.
+Wharton had telegraphed that he was running down from Woodford for
+twenty-four hours and was bringing Billy Webster along with him. They
+would probably manage to arrive at about eight o'clock and would dress
+as quickly as possible. Dinner was not to be delayed on their account.
+They expected to dine on the train.
+
+Of course Betty had promptly yielded to temptation and bought herself a
+new evening frock before the shopping expedition had been under way two
+hours. Mrs. Wharton had bought Mollie a charming one only the day before
+and was now buying her an opera coat to make the toilet complete. It was
+extravagant; Betty fully appreciated her own weakness. Was she not at
+great expense keeping Sunrise cabin open and looking after her two new
+friends? However, she had not been to New York for months and would
+probably not be there again in a longer time and the frock was a rare
+bargain and should not be overlooked. But every woman and girl
+thoroughly understands the arguments that must be gone through
+conscientiously before yielding to the sure temptation of clothes.
+
+Assuredly Betty felt no pangs of conscience when she looked at herself
+in the mirror a few moments before dinner time and just as she was about
+to join her friends. The dress was simple and not expensive, white crepe
+de Chine with a tunic of chiffon, adorned with a wide corn-colored
+girdle and little chiffon roses of the same shade, bordering the neck
+and elbow sleeves. Betty wore a bunch of violets at her waist. Mollie
+was in pure white, which was particularly becoming to her because of her
+dark hair and fair skin.
+
+But although the two girls had never looked prettier and although Mrs.
+Wharton was now past forty, a number of persons, seeing the little
+party, might have thought her the best-looking of the three. For even in
+her early girlhood, when she had been the recognized belle of Woodford,
+never had she seemed more radiant, more full of vitality and happiness.
+She wore a curious blue and silver silk dress with a diamond ornament in
+her beautiful gray hair.
+
+All during dinner both Mollie and Betty discovered themselves gazing at
+Mrs. Wharton admiringly and with some wonder. For not only was she
+looking handsomer than usual, but seemed to be in the gayest spirits.
+Neither John Everett nor the girls had the opportunity for much
+conversation, as Mrs. Wharton absorbed the greater part of it.
+
+However, after Billy and Mr. Wharton had joined them, the four young
+people drove together to the theater, Mr. and Mrs. Wharton following in
+a second cab.
+
+The theater party was by this time such a large one, that, although
+there had been no mention made of it beforehand, no one was surprised at
+being shown a box instead of orchestra seats. However, the fact that the
+box was already occupied by two other figures was a tremendous surprise
+to Mollie and Betty.
+
+One of them was a tall young man with black hair, a singularly well-cut
+though rather pale face, and handsome hazel eyes. The other was a girl,
+rather under medium height, with light hair and a figure as expressive
+of strength and quiet determination as her face.
+
+"Why, Sylvia Wharton, what on earth has brought you to New York at such
+a time?" Mollie O'Neill demanded, throwing her arm affectionately around
+her step-sister's waist and drawing her into the rear of the box. "I
+didn't think any power on earth could persuade you to leave those
+dreadful studies of yours so near examination time!"
+
+"Oh, I am one of mother's surprises for you in New York!" Sylvia replied
+as calmly as though she had always known the whole story of the two
+girls' unexpected journey. Calmness was ever a trait of Sylvia's
+character.
+
+Mollie was so excited by this unlooked-for meeting with her younger
+sister that she would give no one else a chance to speak to her. The
+girls and their two escorts had arrived before Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, and
+it was therefore Mollie's place to have welcomed their second guest or
+at least to have spoken to him.
+
+Under the circumstances Betty Ashton found herself compelled to offer
+her hand to Anthony Graham before any one else seemed aware of his
+presence. She was surprised to see him, she explained, yet very glad he
+happened to be in town for the evening. Betty was polite, certainly;
+still, no one could have exactly accused her of cordiality. Therefore
+Anthony was not sorry that the arrival of his host and hostess at this
+instant spared her from further effort.
+
+The evening was apparently to continue one of surprises. For no sooner
+had Mrs. Wharton's party seated themselves in their box than Mollie
+touched Betty and Sylvia lightly with her fan.
+
+"See, dears," she whispered, "look straight across the theater at the
+box opposite us. There is Margaret Adams and that good-looking Mr. Hunt,
+who used to be a friend of Polly's." Mollie turned to her mother. "Did
+you know Miss Adams was in New York? I thought she and Mr. Hunt were
+still acting."
+
+Mrs. Wharton shook her head. "No, dear, their tour ended a week or more
+ago. Miss Adams is here in New York resting. She will not play again
+until next fall, I believe. Yes, I have seen her once since I came to
+town. But don't talk, I wish to study my program."
+
+With this suggestion both Mollie and Betty glanced for an instant at the
+list of characters in the center of their books of the play. Peggy Moore
+was the star of the performance. She was a young actress who must have
+earned her reputation quite recently, for no one had heard of her until
+a short while before.
+
+The bell rang for the raising of the curtain and at the same time
+Margaret Adams blew a kiss to the girls from behind her fan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI--"Moira"
+
+
+The first scene of the play opened upon a handsome New York drawing
+room, where preparations were evidently being made for a ball, for the
+room was filled with flowers, and servants were seen walking in and out,
+completing the final arrangements. Within a few moments two girls
+wearing dainty tea gowns, stole quietly down the stairway and stood in
+the center of the stage, discussing their approaching entertainment.
+They were both pretty and fashionable young women, evidently about
+eighteen and twenty-one. From their conversation it soon became evident
+that they were of plain origin and making a desperate effort to secure a
+place for themselves among the "smart set" in New York City. Moreover,
+they were spending more money than they should in the effort. The father
+had been an Irish politician, but, as he had died several years before,
+no outsiders knew the extent of the family fortune. Upon the horizon
+there was a friend upon whom much depended. He was evidently a member of
+an old New York family and of far better social standing than the rest
+of their acquaintances; moreover, he was wealthy, handsome and agreeable
+and had paid the older of the two sisters, Kate, somewhat marked
+attention.
+
+When after a few moments' delay the second scene was revealed the ball
+had already begun. The stage setting was remarkably beautiful, the
+costumes charming and the dialogue clever. Yet so far the play had no
+poignant interest, so that now and then Betty found her attention
+wandering.
+
+What could have made this little play such a pronounced success that the
+dramatic critics had been almost universal in their praise of it? she
+wondered. What special charm did it have which crowded the theater every
+evening as it was crowded tonight? It was only a frivolous society drama
+of a kind that must have been acted many times before.
+
+Behind her lace handkerchief Betty gracefully concealed a yawn. Then she
+glanced across the theater toward Margaret Adams' box, hoping she might
+catch another smile or nod from the great lady. But Miss Adams was
+leaning forward with her figure tense with interest and her eyes
+fastened in eager expectancy upon a door at the rear of the stage. Back
+of her, and it seemed to Betty even at this distance, that his face
+looked unusually white and strained, stood Richard Hunt. Assuredly he
+seemed as intent upon the play as Miss Adams.
+
+Betty stared at the stage again. A dance had just ended, the guests were
+separating into groups and standing about talking. But a timid knock now
+sounded on the door which apparently no one heard. A moment later this
+door is slowly opened. There followed a murmur of excitement, a little
+electric thrill passing through the audience so that unexpectedly Betty
+found her own pulses tingling with interest and excitement. What a goose
+she had been! Surely she had heard half a dozen times at least that the
+success of this new play was entirely due to the charm and talent of the
+young actress, Peggy Moore, who took the part of the heroine.
+
+At the open door the newcomer was seen hesitating. No one noticed her,
+then she walked timidly forward and stood alone in the center of the
+stage, one of the most appealing, delicious and picturesque of figures
+in the world of fiction or reality.
+
+The girl was wearing an absurd costume, a bright red blouse, open at the
+throat, a plaid skirt too short for the slender legs beneath it and a
+big flapping straw hat decorated with a single rose. In one hand she
+carried an old-fashioned carpet bag and in the other a tiny Maltese
+kitten. The girl had two long braids of black hair that hung below her
+waist, scarlet lips, a white imploring face and wistful, humorous,
+tender blue eyes.
+
+Betty was growing cold to the tips of her fingers, although her face
+flushed until it felt almost painful. Then she overheard a queer,
+half-restrained sound near her and the next instant Mrs. Wharton leaned
+forward from her place and placed a hand on her arm and on Mollie's.
+
+"Yes, girls, it is Polly!" she whispered quietly, although with shining
+eyes. "But please, please don't stir or do anything in the world to
+attract her attention. It was Polly's own idea to surprise you like
+this, and yet she is dreadfully afraid that the sight of you may make
+her break down and forget her part. She is simply wonderful!"
+
+Naturally this was a mother's opinion; however, nothing that Mrs.
+Wharton was saying was making the slightest impression, for neither
+Mollie nor Betty had heard a word.
+
+For Moira, the little Irish girl, had begun to speak and everybody on
+the stage was looking toward her, smiling and shrugging their shoulders,
+except the two daughters of the house and their fashionable mother.
+
+Moira had asked for her aunt, Mrs. Mulholland. She was not an emigrant
+maid-of-all-work, as the guests presumed her to be, but a niece of the
+wealthy household. She had crossed the ocean alone and was expecting a
+welcome from her relatives.
+
+At this point in the drama the hero came forward to the little Irish
+maid's assistance. Then her aunt and cousins dared not display the anger
+they felt for this undesired guest. Later it was explained that Moira
+had been sent to New York by her old grandfather, who, fearing that he
+was about to die, wished the girl looked after by her relatives. Moira's
+father had been the son that stayed behind in Ireland. He had been
+desperately poor and the grandfather was supposed to be equally so.
+Then, of course, followed the history of the child's efforts to fit
+herself into the insincere and unkind household.
+
+Nothing remarkable in the story of the little play, surely, but
+everything in the art with which Polly O'Neill acted it!
+
+Tears and smiles, both in writing and acting: these are what the artist
+desires as his true recognition. And Polly seldom spoke half a dozen
+lines without receiving one or the other. Sometimes the smiles and tears
+crowded so close together that the one had not sufficient time to thrust
+the other away.
+
+"I didn't dream the child had it in her: it is genius!" Margaret Adams
+whispered to her companion, when the curtain had finally fallen on the
+second act and she had leaned back in her chair with a sigh of mingled
+pleasure and relief.
+
+"She had my promise to say nothing until tonight. Yes, I have been in
+the secret since last winter." Richard explained. "It was a blessed
+accident Polly's finding just this particular kind of play. She could
+have played no other so well while still so young. You see, she was
+acting in a cheap stock company when a manager happened quite by chance
+to discover her. But she will want to tell you the story herself. I must
+not anticipate."
+
+For a moment, instead of replying, Margaret Adams looked slightly
+amazed. "I did not know that you and Polly were such great friends,
+Richard, that she has preferred confiding in you to any one else," she
+said at length.
+
+Richard Hunt had taken his seat and was now watching the unconcealed
+triumph and delight among the group of Polly's family and friends in the
+box across the theater.
+
+"I wasn't chosen; I was an accident," the man smiled. "Last winter in
+Boston I met Polly--Miss O'Neill," he corrected himself, "and she told me
+what she was trying to do, fight things out for herself without advice
+or assistance from any one of us. But, of course, after I was taken into
+her secret she allowed me to keep in touch with her now and then. The
+child was lonely and dreadfully afraid you and her other friends would
+not understand or forgive what she had tried to do."
+
+"Polly is not exactly a child, Richard; she must be nearly twenty-two,"
+Margaret Adams replied quietly.
+
+In the final act the little Irish heroine had her hour of triumph. The
+hero had fallen in love with her instead of with the fashionable cousin.
+Yet Moira was not the pauper her relatives had believed her, for the old
+grandfather had recently died and his solicitor appeared with his will.
+The Irish township had purchased his acres of supposedly worthless land
+and Moira was proclaimed an heiress.
+
+At the end Polly was her gayest, most inimitable, laughing self. Half a
+dozen times Betty, Mollie and Sylvia found themselves forgetting that
+she was acting at all. How many times had they not known her just as
+wilful and charming, their Polly of a hundred swift, succeeding moods.
+
+Moira was not angry with any one in the world, certainly not with the
+cousins who had been almost cruel to her. During her stay among them she
+had learned of their need of money and was now quick to offer all that
+she had. She was so generous, so happy, and with it all so petulant and
+charming, that at last even the stern aunt and the envious cousins
+succumbed to her.
+
+Then the curtain descended on a very differently clad heroine, but one
+who was essentially unchanged. Moira was dressed in a white satin made
+in the latest and most exquisite fashion; and her black hair was
+beautifully arranged on her small, graceful head. Only the people who
+loved her could have dreamed that Polly O'Neill would ever look so
+pretty. And in one hand the girl was holding a single red rose, though
+under the other arm she was still clutching her beloved Maltese cat.
+
+"Polly will not answer any curtain calls tonight," Mrs. Wharton
+whispered hurriedly when the last scene was over. "If the others will
+excuse us she has asked that only Sylvia, Betty and Mollie come to her
+room. Margaret Adams will be there, but no one else. She is very tired
+at the close of her performances, but she is afraid you girls may not
+forgive her long silence and her deception. Will you come this way with
+me?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII--A Reunion
+
+
+Next morning at half past ten o'clock Polly O'Neill was sitting upright
+in bed in the room at her hotel with Betty on one side, Mollie on the
+other and Sylvia at the foot, gazing rather searchingly upon the object
+of their present devotion.
+
+Polly was wearing a pale pink dressing jacket trimmed with a great deal
+of lace and evidently quite new. Indeed it had been purchased with the
+idea of celebrating this great occasion. The girl's cheeks were as
+crimson as they had been on the stage the night before and her eyes were
+as shining. She was talking with great rapidity and excitement.
+
+"Yes, it is perfectly thrilling and delightful, Mollie Mavourneen, and I
+never was so happy in my life, now that you know all about me and are
+not really angry," Polly exclaimed gayly. "But I can tell you it wasn't
+all honey and roses last winter, working all alone and being lonely and
+homesick and miserable most of the time. No one praised me or sent me
+flowers then," and the girl looked with perfectly natural vanity and
+satisfaction at the big box of roses that had just been opened and was
+still lying on her lap. On her bureau there were vases of fresh flowers
+and several other boxes on a nearby table.
+
+"Well, it must be worth any amount of hard work and unhappiness to be so
+popular and famous," Mollie murmured, glancing with heartfelt admiration
+and yet with a little wistfulness at her twin sister. "Just think, Polly
+dear, we are exactly the same age and used to do almost the same things;
+and now you are a celebrated actress and I'm just nobody at all. I am
+sorry I used to be so opposed to your going on the stage. I think it
+perfectly splendid now."
+
+With a laugh that had a slight quaver in it Polly threw an arm about her
+sister and hugged her close. "You silly darling, how you have always
+flattered me and how dearly I do love it!" she returned, looking with
+equal admiration at the soft roundness of Mollie's girlish figure and
+the pretty dimples in her delicately pink cheeks. "I am not a celebrated
+actress in the least, sister of mine, just because I have succeeded in
+doing one little character part so that a few people, just a few people,
+like it. I do wonder what Margaret Adams thought of me. She did not say
+much last night. She is coming to see me presently, so I am desperately
+nervous over what she will say. One swallow does not make a career any
+more than it makes a summer. And as for daring to say you are nobody,
+Mollie O'Neill, I never heard such arrant nonsense in my life. For you
+know perfectly well that you are a thousand times prettier, more
+charming and more popular than I am, and everybody knows it except you.
+But, of course, you never have believed it in your life, you blessed
+little goose!" and Polly pinched her sister's soft arm appreciatively.
+"I wish there was as much of me as there is of you for one thing, Mollie
+darling, your figure is a perfect dream and I'm nothing in the world but
+skin and bones," Polly finished at last, drawing her dressing jacket
+more closely about her with a barely concealed shiver.
+
+From the foot of the bed Sylvia was eyeing her severely. "Yes, we had
+already noticed that without your mentioning it, Polly," she remarked
+dryly.
+
+Her only answer was a careless shrugging of her thin shoulders, as Polly
+turned this time toward Betty.
+
+"What makes you so silent, Princess? You are not vexed with me and only
+said you were not angry last night to spare my feelings?" Polly asked
+more seriously than she had yet spoken. Even though Polly might believe
+that she loved her sister better, yet she realized that they could never
+so completely understand each other and never have perhaps quite the
+same degree of spiritual intimacy as she had with her friend.
+
+Betty took Polly's outstretched hand and held it lightly.
+
+"I was only thinking of something; I beg your pardon, dear," Betty
+replied quietly.
+
+Polly frowned. "You are not to think of anything or anybody except me
+today," she demanded jealously. "You have had months and months to think
+about other people. This is the best of what I have been working
+for--just to have you girls with me like this, and have you praise me and
+make love to me as Mollie did. Yes, I understand I am being desperately
+vain and self-centered, Princess; so you may think it your duty to take
+me to task for it. But it is only because I have always been such a
+dreadful black sheep among all the other Camp Fire girls. Then I suppose
+it is also because we have been separated so long. Pretty soon I'll have
+to go back to the work-a-day, critical old world where nobody really
+cares a thing about me and where 'my career,' as Mollie calls it, has
+scarcely begun. But please don't make me do all the talking, Betty, it
+is so unlike me and I can see that Sylvia thinks I am saying far too
+much." Here Polly's apparently endless stream of conversation was
+interrupted by a fit of coughing, which took all the color from her
+cheeks, brought there by the morning's excitement, and left her huddled
+up among her pillows pale and breathless, with Sylvia's light blue eyes
+staring at her with a somewhat enigmatic expression.
+
+Betty smiled, however, pulling at one of the long braids of black hair
+with some severity. Last night it had seemed to her that Polly O'Neill
+was quite the most wonderful person in the world and that she could
+never feel exactly the same toward her, but must surely treat her with
+entirely new reverence and respect. Yet here she was, just as absurd and
+childish as ever and pleading for compliments as a child for sweets. No
+one could treat Polly O'Neill with great respect, though love her one
+must to the end of the chapter. She had a thousand faults, yet Betty
+knew that vanity was not one of them. It was simply because of her
+affection for her friends that she wished to find them pleased with her.
+In her heart of hearts no one was humbler than Polly. Betty at least
+understood that her ambition would never leave her satisfied with one
+success.
+
+"But I was thinking of you, my ridiculous Polly!" Betty answered
+finally. "I regret to state, however, that I was not for the moment
+dwelling on your great and glorious career. Naturally no other Sunrise
+Hill Camp Fire girl may ever hope to aspire so high. I was wondering
+whether your mother allowed you to wander around by yourself last
+winter, and, if she did, how you ever managed to take proper care of
+yourself."
+
+"Dear me, hasn't mother told you? Why of course I had a chaperon, child!
+Mollie, please ring the bell for me. She is a dear and is dreadfully
+anxious to meet all of you," Polly explained. "But Sylvia took care of
+me too--would you mind not staring at me quite so hard all the time,
+Sylvia? I know I am better looking behind the footlights," Polly now
+urged almost plaintively, for her younger sister was making her
+decidedly nervous by her continued scrutiny. "Betty, even you will
+hardly place me at the head of the theatrical profession at present,"
+she continued. "Though I am quite green with jealousy, I must tell you
+that Sylvia Wharton has stood at the head of her class in medicine, male
+and female, during this entire year and is confidently expected to come
+out first in her final examinations. I am abominably afraid that Sylvia
+may develop into a more distinguished Camp Fire girl in the end than I
+ever shall."
+
+There was no further opportunity at present for further personal
+discussion, for at this instant a tall, dark-haired woman with somewhat
+timid manners entered the room, where she stood hesitating, glancing
+from one girl's face to the other.
+
+"You know Sylvia, Mrs. Martins, so this is Mollie, whom you may
+recognize as being a good-looking likeness of me," Polly began. "Of
+course this third person is necessarily Betty Ashton."
+
+From her place on the bed Sylvia had smiled her greeting, but Mollie and
+Betty of course got up at once and walked forward to shake hands with
+the newcomer.
+
+Then unexpectedly and to Betty's immense surprise, she found both of her
+hands immediately clasped in an ardent embrace by the stranger, while
+the woman gazed at her with her lips trembling and the tears streaming
+unchecked down her face.
+
+"How shall I ever thank you or make you understand?" she said
+passionately. "All my life long I can never repay what you have done for
+me, but at least I shall never forget it."
+
+Betty pressed the newcomer's hand politely, turning from her to Polly,
+hoping that she might in her friend's expression find some clue to this
+puzzling utterance. Polly appeared just as rapt and mysterious.
+
+"You are awfully kind and I am most happy to meet you," Betty felt
+called on to reply, "but I am afraid you must have mistaken me for some
+one else. It is I who owe gratitude to you for having taken such good
+care of Polly."
+
+The Princess was gracious and sweet in her manner, but she could hardly
+be expected not to have drawn back slightly from such an extraordinary
+greeting from a stranger.
+
+"Oh, my dear, I ought to have explained to you. You must forgive me, it
+is because I feel so deeply and that the people of my race cannot always
+control their emotions so readily," the older woman protested. "It is my
+little girl, for whom you have done such wonderful things. She has
+written me that she is almost happy now that you have become her fairy
+princess. And in truth you are quite lovely enough," the stranger
+continued, believing that at last she was making herself clear.
+
+"I? Your little girl?" Betty repeated stupidly. "You don't mean you are
+Angelique's mother? But of course you are. Now I can see that you look
+like each other and your name is 'Martins.' It is curious, but I paid no
+attention to your name at first and never associated you with my little
+French girl." Now it was Betty's turn to find her voice shaking, partly
+from pleasure and also from embarrassment. "It was a beautiful accident,
+wasn't it, for Angelique and I, and you and Polly to find each other?
+But you have nothing to thank me for, Mrs. Martins. Angel has given me
+more pleasure than I can ever give her. She has been so wonderful since
+she found something in life to interest her. Won't you come to the cabin
+with me right away and see her? Mollie and Mrs. Wharton can surely look
+after Polly for a few days; besides she never does what any one tells
+her."
+
+Suddenly Betty let go her companion's hand, swinging around toward the
+elfish figure in the bed. For Polly did look elfish at this moment, with
+her knees huddled up almost to her chin and her head resting on her
+hand. Her eyes were almost all one could see of her face at present,
+they looked so absurdly large and so darkly blue.
+
+Betty seized the girl by both shoulders, giving her a tiny shake.
+
+"Polly O'Neill, did you write me those anonymous letters about Angel
+last winter? Oh, of course you did! But what a queer muddle it all is! I
+don't understand, for Angel told me that she had never heard of Polly
+O'Neill in her entire life until I spoke of you."
+
+"And no more she has, Princess," returned Polly smiling. "Everybody sit
+down and be good, please, while I explain things as far as I understand
+them. You see Mrs. Martins and I met each other at the theater one
+evening where she had come to do some wonderful sewing for some one.
+Well, of course my clothes were in rags, for with all our Camp Fire
+training I never learned much about the gentle art of stitching. So Mrs.
+Martins promised to do some work for me and by and by we got to knowing
+each other pretty well. One day I found her crying, and then she told me
+about her little girl. A friend had offered to send Angelique to this
+hospital in Boston and Mrs. Martins felt she must let her go, as she
+could not make enough money to keep them comfortable. Besides Angelique
+needed special care and treatment. Of course she realized it was best
+for her little girl, yet they were horribly grieved over being
+separated.
+
+"Just at this time, Miss Brown, whom mother had persuaded to travel with
+me all winter, got terribly tired of her job. So I asked Mrs. Martins if
+she cared to come with me. When she and mother learned to know and like
+each other things were arranged.
+
+"Afterwards the heavenly powers must have sent you to that hospital,
+Betty dear, otherwise there is no accounting for it. Pretty soon after
+your first visit Angel wrote her mother describing a lovely lady with
+auburn hair, gray eyes and the most charming manner in the world, who
+had been to the hospital to see them, but had only said a few words to
+her. Yes, I know you think that is queer, Betty, but please remember
+that though Angelique knew her mother was traveling with an eccentric
+young female, she did not know my real name. I was Peggy Moore to her
+always, just as I was to you until last night. Can't you understand? Of
+course I knew you were in Boston with Esther and Dick, and besides there
+could be only one Betty Ashton in the world answering to your
+description. Then, of course, Mrs. Martins and I both wanted to write
+and explain things to you dreadfully, yet at the same time I did not
+wish you to guess where I was or what I was doing. So I persuaded Mrs.
+Martins to wait; at the same time I did write you these silly anonymous
+letters, for I was so anxious for you to be particularly interested in
+Angel. I might have known you would have been anyway, you dearest of
+princesses and best," whispered Polly so earnestly that Betty drew away
+from her friend's embrace, her cheeks scarlet.
+
+"I am going to another room with Mrs. Martins to have a long talk,
+Polly, while you rest," Betty answered the next moment. "Mrs. Wharton
+said that we were not to stay with you but an hour and a half and it has
+been two already. You will want to be at your best when Margaret Adams
+comes to see you this afternoon."
+
+"If you mean in the best of health, Betty," Sylvia remarked at this
+instant, as she got down somewhat awkwardly from her seat on the bed,
+"then I might as well tell you that Polly O'Neill is far from being even
+ordinarily well. She has not been well all winter; but now, with the
+excitement and strain of her first success, she is utterly used up. All
+I can say is that if she does not quit this acting business and go
+somewhere and have a real rest, well, we shall all be sorry some day,"
+and with this unexpected announcement Sylvia stalked calmly out of the
+room, leaving three rather frightened women and one exceedingly angry
+one behind her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII--Home Again
+
+
+"But, my beloved mother, you really can't expect such a sacrifice of me.
+There isn't anything else in the world you could ask that I would not
+agree to, but even you must see that this is out of the question."
+
+It was several days later and Polly was in her small sitting room with
+her mother and Sylvia.
+
+"Besides it is absurd and wicked of Sylvia to have frightened you so and
+I shan't forgive her, even if she has been good as gold to me all her
+life. How can I give up my part and go away from New York just when I am
+beginning to be a tiny bit successful?" Then, overcome with sympathy for
+herself, Polly cast herself down in a heap upon a small sofa and with
+her face buried in the sofa cushions burst into tears.
+
+Mrs. Wharton walked nervously up and down the room.
+
+"I know it is dreadfully hard for you, dear, and I do realize how much I
+am asking, even if you don't think so, Polly," she replied. "Besides you
+must not be angry with Sylvia. Of course I have not taken the child's
+opinion alone, clever as she is. Two physicians have seen you in the
+last few days, as you know, and they have both given me the same
+opinion. You are on the verge of a nervous breakdown. If you will give
+up now it may not be serious, but if you will insist upon going on with
+your work no one will answer for the consequences. It is only a matter
+of a few weeks, my dear. I have seen your manager and he is willing to
+agree to your stopping as long as it is absolutely necessary. Perhaps
+you may be well enough to start in again in the fall. Isn't it wiser to
+stop now for a short rest than to have to give up altogether later on?"
+she urged consolingly.
+
+As there was no answer from Polly, Mrs. Wharton's own eyes also filled
+with tears. At the same moment Sylvia came up to her step-mother and
+patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. It was odd, but Sylvia rarely
+expressed affection by kissing or the embraces common among most girls.
+Yet in her somewhat shy caresses there was fully as deep feeling.
+
+"Don't worry, mother, things will turn out all right," she now said
+reassuringly. "Of course it is pretty hard on Polly. Even I appreciate
+that. But it is silly of her to protest against the inevitable. She will
+save herself a lot of strength if she only finds that out some day. But
+I'll leave you together, since my being here only makes her more
+obstinate than ever."
+
+As Sylvia was crossing the floor a sofa cushion was thrown violently at
+her from the apparently grief-stricken figure on the sofa. But while
+Mrs. Wharton looked both grieved and shocked Sylvia only laughed. Was
+there ever such another girl as her step-sister? Here she was at one
+instant weeping bitterly at the wrecking of her career, as she thought,
+and the next shying sofa cushions like a naughty child.
+
+Once Sylvia was safely out of the way, Polly again sat upright on the
+sofa, drawing her mother down beside her. It was just as well that
+Sylvia had departed, for she was the one person in the world whom Polly
+had never been able to influence, or turn from her own point of view, by
+any amount of argument or persuasion. With her mother alone her task
+would be easier. Nevertheless Mrs. Wharton appeared singularly
+determined and Polly remembered that there had been occasions when her
+mother's decision must be obeyed.
+
+However, she was no longer a child, and although it would make her
+extremely miserable to appear both obstinate and unloving, it might in
+this single instance be absolutely necessary. How much had she not
+already endured to gain this slight footing in her profession? Now to
+turn her back on it in the midst of her first success, because a few
+persons had made up their minds that she was ill,--well, any sensible or
+reasonable human being must understand that it was quite out of the
+question.
+
+So the discussion continued between the woman and girl, the same
+arguments being repeated over and over, the same pleading, and yet
+without arriving at any sort of conclusion. There is no knowing how long
+this might have kept up if there had not come a sudden knocking at the
+door.
+
+Opening it the boy outside handed Mrs. Wharton a card.
+
+"It is Mr. Hunt who has come to see you, Polly; shall I say you are not
+well? Or what shall I say? Of course it is out of the question for you
+to see any stranger, child. You have been crying until your face is
+swollen and your hair is in dreadful confusion," Mrs. Wharton protested
+anxiously.
+
+Polly unexpectedly scrambled to her feet. "Ask Mr. Hunt to wait a few
+minutes, please, mother, and then we will telephone down and tell him to
+come up. You see I had an engagement with him this afternoon and don't
+like to refuse to see him. For once it is a good thing I have no
+pretensions to beauty like Betty and Mollie. Moreover, mother, I am
+obliged to confess to you that Mr. Hunt has seen me before, not only
+after I had been weeping, but while I was engaged in the act. You know
+he was about the only friend I saw all last winter, when I was so blue
+and discouraged with life. Besides, I am sure he will understand my
+point of view in this dreadful discussion we have just been having and
+will help me to convince you."
+
+Five minutes afterwards the celebrated Miss Polly O'Neill had restored
+her hair and costume to some semblance of order, although her eyes were
+still somewhat red and heavy, as well as her nose. Nevertheless she
+greeted her visitor without particular embarrassment. Mrs. Wharton,
+however, could not pull herself together so readily; so after a few
+moments of conventional conversation she asked to be excused and went
+away, leaving her daughter and guest alone.
+
+Fifteen minutes passed, half an hour, finally an entire hour. All this
+while Mrs. Wharton, remaining in her daughter's bedroom which adjoined
+the sitting room, could hear the sound of two voices.
+
+Of course Polly did the greater share of the talking, but now and then
+Richard Hunt would speak for several moments at a time and afterwards
+there would be odd intervals of silence.
+
+Mrs. Wharton could not hear what was being said, and she scarcely wished
+to return to the sitting room. She was still far too worried and
+nervous, although, having an engagement that must be kept, she wished to
+say good-by to Polly before leaving the hotel.
+
+Richard Hunt rose immediately upon Mrs. Wharton's entrance.
+
+"I am ever so sorry to have made such a long visit," he apologized at
+once, "and I hope I have not interfered with you. Only Miss O'Neill and
+I have been having a pretty serious and important talk and I did not
+realize how much time had passed."
+
+Polly's eyes had been fastened upon something in the far distance. Now
+she glanced toward her guest.
+
+"Oh, you need not apologize to mother for the length of your stay. When
+she hears what we have been discussing she will be more than grateful to
+you," Polly interrupted.
+
+"You see, mother, Mr. Hunt does not agree with me, as I thought he
+would. Who ever has agreed with me in this tiresome world? He also
+thinks that I must stop acting at once and go away with you, if my
+family and the doctors think it necessary. And he has frightened me
+terribly with stories of people who have nervous breakdowns and never
+recover. People who never remember the lines in their plays again or
+what part they are expected to act. So I surrender, dear. I'll go away
+with you as soon as things can be arranged wherever you wish to take
+me." And Polly held up both her hands with an intended expression of
+saintliness, which was not altogether successful.
+
+"Bravo!" Richard Hunt exclaimed quietly.
+
+Mrs. Wharton extended her hand.
+
+"I am more grateful to you than I can express. You have saved us all
+from a great deal of unhappiness and I believe you have saved Polly from
+more than she understands," she added.
+
+The girl took her mother's hand, touching it lightly with her lips.
+"Please don't tell Mr. Hunt what my family think of my obstinacy," she
+pleaded. "Because if you do, he will either have no respect for me or
+else will have too much for himself because I gave in to him," she said
+saucily.
+
+Yet it was probably ten minutes after Mr. Hunt's departure before it
+occurred to Mrs. Wharton to be surprised over Polly's unexpected
+surrender to a comparative stranger, when she had refused to be
+influenced by any member of her own family.
+
+But now the question of chief importance was where should Polly go for
+her much needed rest? It was her own decision finally that rather than
+any other place in the world she preferred to return to Woodford to
+spend the summer months in the old cabin near Sunrise Hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX--Illusions Swept Away
+
+
+It was a golden July afternoon two months later when all nature was a
+splendid riot of color and perfume. In a hammock under a group of pine
+trees a girl lay half asleep. Now and then she would open her eyes to
+glance at the lazy white clouds overhead. Then she would look with
+perhaps closer attention at the figure of another girl who was seated a
+few yards away.
+
+If the girl in the hammock was dreaming, her companion fitted oddly into
+her dream. She was dressed in a simple white muslin frock and her hair
+had a band of soft blue ribbon tied about it. In her lap lay an open
+book, but no page had been turned in the last fifteen minutes and indeed
+she was quieter than her friend who was supposed to be asleep.
+
+"Betty," a voice called softly, "bring your chair nearer to me. I have
+done my duty nobly for the past two hours and have not spoken a single,
+solitary word. So even the sternest of doctors and nurses can't say I am
+unfaithful to my rest cure. Besides it is absurd, now when I am as well
+as any one else. Yes, that is much better, Betty, and you are, please,
+to gaze directly into my face while I am talking to you. I haven't liked
+your fashion lately of staring off into space, as you were doing just
+recently and indeed on all occasions when you believe no one is paying
+any special attention to you."
+
+With a low curtsey Betty did as she was commanded. She even knelt down
+on the ground beside the hammock to look the more directly into the eyes
+of her friend. But as she continued, unexpectedly a slow color crept
+into her cheeks from her throat upwards until it had flushed her entire
+face.
+
+"I declare, Polly," she exclaimed jumping to her feet abruptly and
+sitting down in her chair again, "you make me feel as though I had
+committed some offence, though I do assure you I have been as good as
+gold, so far as I know, for a long, long time."
+
+Polly was silent a moment. "You know perfectly well, Betty, that I don't
+think you have done anything wrong. You need not use that excuse to try
+and deceive me, dear, because it does not make the slightest impression.
+The truth is, Betty, that you have a secret that you are keeping from me
+and from every one else so far as I know. Of course there isn't any
+reason why you should confide in me if you don't wish. You may be
+punishing me for my lack of confidence in you last winter."
+
+This last statement was possibly made with a double intention. Betty
+responded to it instantly.
+
+"Surely, Polly, you must know that would not make the slightest
+difference," she returned earnestly. And then the next instant, as if
+fearing that she might have betrayed herself: "But what in the world
+makes you think I am cherishing a secret, you absurd Polly? I suppose
+you have had to have something to think about these past two months,
+when you have spent so much time lying down. Well, when I see how you
+have improved I am quite willing to have been your victim."
+
+With a quick motion the other girl now managed to sit upright, piling
+her sofa cushions behind her. Her color was certainly sufficiently vivid
+at this instant. But indeed she was so improved in every way that one
+would hardly have known her for the Polly O'Neill of the past year's
+trials and successes. Her figure was almost rounded, her chin far less
+pointed and all the lines of fatigue and nervous strain had vanished
+from her face. But Polly's temper had not so materially changed!
+
+"It isn't worth while to accuse me of having tried to spy into your
+private affairs, Princess," she replied haughtily. "But if you do feel
+that I have, then I ask your pardon for now and all times. I shall never
+be so offensive again."
+
+There followed a vast and complete human silence. Then Polly got up from
+her resting place and went and put her arm quietly about her friend.
+
+"Princess, I would rather that the stars should fall or the world come
+to an end, than have you really angry with me," she murmured. "But you
+know I did not mean to offend you by asking you to confide in me, don't
+you? Anyway I promise never, never to ask you again. Here, let me have
+the Woodford paper, please. I believe Billy brought us the afternoon
+edition. I wonder if he and Mollie will be gone on their boating
+expedition for long? They must have been around the lake half a dozen
+times already."
+
+As though dismissing the subject of their past conversation entirely
+from her mind, Polly, resuming her hammock, now buried herself in the
+columns of the Woodford Gazette. Apparently she had not observed that no
+reply had been made either to her accusation or apology. She could see
+that Betty was not seriously angry, which was the main thing.
+
+"Get out your embroidery, Princess, and let me read the news aloud to
+you;" she demanded next. "I love to watch you sew. It is not because you
+do it so particularly well, but because you always manage to look like a
+picture in a book. Funny thing, dear, why you have such a different
+appearance from the rest of us. Oh, I am not saying that probably other
+girls are not as pretty as you are, Mollie and Meg for instance. But you
+have a different look somehow. No wonder Angel thinks you are a fairy
+princess."
+
+But at this moment an unexpected choking sound, that seemed in some
+fashion to have come forth from Betty, interrupted the flow of her
+friend's compliments.
+
+"Please don't, Polly," she pleaded. "You know I love your Irish blarney
+most of the time beyond anything in this world. But now I want to tell
+you something. I have had a kind of a secret for over a year, but it is
+past now and I'm dreadfully sorry if you believe you find a change in me
+that you don't like. I suppose sometimes I do feel rather blue simply
+because I am of so little account in the world. Please don't think I am
+jealous, but you and Sylvia and Nan and Meg are all doing things and
+Esther and Edith and Eleanor are married and Mollie helps her mother
+with your big house. I believe Beatrice and Judith are both at college,
+though we have been separated from them for such a long time. So you see
+I am the only good-for-nothing in the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire
+circle."
+
+"Yes, I see," was the somewhat curt reply from behind the outspread
+paper.
+
+"Mrs. Martins told me yesterday that the surgeons Dr. Barton brought to
+see Angelique think she may be able to walk in another year or so and I
+believe Cricket is to give up her crutches altogether in a few months,"
+Polly presently remarked.
+
+In the sunshine Betty Ashton's face shone with happiness. "Yes, isn't it
+wonderful?" she remarked innocently.
+
+"Of course, doing beautiful things for other people isn't being of the
+slightest use in the world," the other girl continued, as though talking
+to herself. "Yet Mrs. Martins also said yesterday, that she and
+Angelique believed they had strayed into Paradise they were so happy
+here at the cabin with the prospect of Angel's growing better ahead of
+them. And I believe Cricket dances and sings with every step she takes
+nowadays."
+
+"But I?" interrupted Betty.
+
+"No, of course you have had nothing in the world to do with it and I
+never accused you for a single instant," her friend argued, and then
+Polly fell to reading the paper aloud.
+
+"'The friends of Doctor and Mrs. Richard Ashton, now of Boston,
+Massachusetts, but formerly of Woodford, New Hampshire, will be
+delighted to hear of the birth of their son, Richard Jr., on July the
+fourteenth.' How does it feel to be an aunt?" the reader demanded.
+
+"Delicious," Betty sighed, and then began dreaming of her new nephew,
+wondering when she was to be allowed to see him, until Polly again
+interfered with her train of thought.
+
+"'Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wharton entertained at dinner last night in their
+new home in honor of Mr. Anthony Graham, our brilliant young congressman
+who has returned to Woodford for a few days.' Well, I like that!" Polly
+protested. "Think of Frank and Eleanor daring to give a dinner party and
+asking none of their other old friends or relatives. They must feel set
+up at being married before the rest of us."
+
+For the first time Betty now actually took a few industrious stitches in
+her embroidery. "Oh, they probably did not have but two or three guests.
+You know how papers exaggerate things, Pollykins, I would not be so
+easily offended with my relations," she protested.
+
+"No, but you used to be such an intimate friend of Anthony Graham's. Do
+you know I look upon him as one of your good works, Betty? I wonder if
+he will condescend to come to the cabin to see us, now he is such a busy
+and distinguished person. Is he as much a friend of yours now as he used
+to be?"
+
+Unexpectedly Betty's thread broke, so that she was forced to make
+another knot before replying.
+
+"Friend of mine? No, yes; well, that is we are friendly, of course, only
+Anthony has grown so fond of Meg Everett lately that he has not much
+time for any one else. But please don't speak of anything I ever did for
+him, Polly. I beg it of you as a special favor. In the first place it
+was so ridiculously little and in the second I think it pretty hard on
+Anthony to have an unfortunate accident like that raked up against him
+now that he has accomplished so much."
+
+"Oh, all right," Polly returned, thoughtfully digging into the earth
+with the toe of her pretty kid slipper.
+
+"Good heavens, speaking of angels or the other thing!" she exclaimed, a
+moment later, "I do declare if that does not look like Anthony Graham
+coming directly toward us this instant. Do go and speak to him first,
+dear, while I manage to scramble out of this hammock."
+
+Ten minutes later Anthony was occupying the chair lately vacated by
+Betty, while Polly was once more in a reclining position. Knowing that
+she was still regarded as a semi-invalid, Anthony had insisted that she
+must not disturb herself on his account. He had explained that the
+reason for his call was to find out how she was feeling. So, soon after
+this statement, Betty had left the two of them together, giving as an
+excuse the fact that as she had invited Anthony to stay with them to tea
+she must go to the cabin to help get things ready.
+
+After Betty's disappearance Polly did not find her companion
+particularly interesting. He scarcely said half a dozen words but sat
+staring moodily up toward the dark branches of the enshadowing pine
+trees. This at least afforded Polly a fine opportunity for studying the
+young man's face.
+
+"You have improved a lot, Anthony," she said finally. "Oh, I beg your
+pardon, I am afraid I was thinking out loud."
+
+Her visitor smiled. "Well, so long as your thoughts are complimentary I
+am sure I don't mind," he returned. "Keep it up, will you?"
+
+The girl nodded. "There is nothing I should like better. You know it is
+odd, but the Princess and I were talking about you just when you
+appeared. I must say I am amazed at your prominence, Anthony. I never
+dreamed you would ever amount to so much. It was funny, but Betty used
+always to have faith in you. I often wondered why."
+
+This time her companion did not smile. "I wish to heaven then that she
+had faith in me now, or if not faith at least a little of her old
+liking," he answered almost bitterly. "For the last year, for some
+reason or other, Miss Betty has seemed to dislike me. She has avoided me
+at every possible opportunity. And I have never been able to find out
+whether I had offended her or if she had merely grown weary of my
+friendship. I have been so troubled by it that I have made a confidant
+of Miss Everett and asked her to help me if she could. I thought perhaps
+if Betty--Miss Betty, I mean--could see that Meg Everett liked me and was
+willing to be my intimate friend, that possibly she might forgive me in
+time. But it has all been of no use, she has simply grown colder and
+colder. And I fear I only weary Miss Everett in talking of Miss Betty so
+much of the time. She recently told me that I did."
+
+Polly's lips trembled and her shoulders shook. What a perfectly absurd
+creature a male person was at all times and particularly when under the
+influence of love!
+
+The next moment the girl's face had strangely sobered.
+
+"You are not worthy to tie her shoe-string, you know, Anthony; but then
+I never have seen any one whom I have thought worthy of her. Most
+certainly neither Esther nor I approved of the nobility as represented
+by young Count Von Reuter."
+
+Aloud Polly continued this interesting debate with herself, apparently
+not concerned with whether or not her companion understood her.
+
+"Certainly I am unworthy to tie any one's shoe-string," the young man
+murmured finally, "but would you mind confiding in me just whose
+shoe-string you mean?"
+
+From under her dark lashes half resentfully and half sympathetically the
+girl surveyed the speaker. "You have a sense of humor, Anthony, and that
+is something to your credit," she remarked judicially. "Well, much as I
+really hate to say it, I might as well tell you that I don't think the
+Princess dislikes you intensely, provided you tell her just why you have
+been so intimate with Meg for these past months. No, I have nothing more
+to say. Only I am going down to the lake for half an hour to join Mollie
+and Billy Webster and if you wait here you may have a chance of speaking
+to Betty alone when she comes to invite us in to tea."
+
+Then quietly Polly O'Neill strolled away with every appearance of
+calmness, although she was really feeling greatly perturbed and
+distressed. Certainly something must have worked a reformation in her
+character, for although she positively hated the idea of Betty Ashton's
+marrying, had she not just thrust her deliberately into the arms of her
+fate. Yet, of course, her feeling was a purely selfish one, since she
+had no real fault to find with Anthony. So if Betty loved him, he must
+have his chance.
+
+Then with a smile and a sigh Polly once more shrugged her shoulders,
+which is the Irish method of acknowledging that fate is too strong for
+the strongest of us. She reached the edge of the lake and madly signaled
+to Mollie and Billy to allow her to enter their boat. They were at no
+great distance off and yet were extremely slow in approaching the shore.
+Evidently they seemed to feel no enthusiasm for the newcomer's society
+at the present moment.
+
+"I thought you were asleep, Polly," Mollie finally murmured in a
+reproachful tone, while Billy Webster eyed his small canoe rather
+doubtfully.
+
+"She won't carry a very heavy load, Miss Polly," he remarked, drawing
+alongside. Polly calmly climbed into the skiff, taking her seat in the
+stern.
+
+"I can't sleep all the time, sister of mine," she protested, once she
+was comfortably established, "much as I should like to accommodate my
+family and friends by the relief from my society. And as for my being
+too heavy for your canoe, Billy Webster, I don't weigh nearly so much as
+Mollie. So if you think both of us too heavy, she might as well get out
+and give me a chance. You have been around this lake with her at least a
+dozen times already this afternoon. Besides, I really have to be allowed
+to remain somewhere."
+
+Plainly Mollie's withdrawal from the scene had no place in Billy's
+calculations, for without further argument he moved out toward the
+middle of the pond.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX--Two Engagements
+
+
+Ten minutes more must have passed before Betty decided to return to her
+friends. Yet during her short walk to the pine grove she was still oddly
+shy and nervous and in a mood wholly dissatisfied with herself. Why in
+the world did she so often behave coldly to Anthony Graham and with such
+an appearance of complete unfriendliness? There was nothing further from
+her own desire, for certainly he had an entire right to have transferred
+his affection to Meg! To show either anger or pique was small and
+unwomanly!
+
+Never had there been definite understanding between Anthony and herself.
+Indeed she had always refused even to listen to any serious expression
+of his affection for her. Long ago there had been a single evening after
+her return from Germany, when together they had watched the moon go down
+behind Sunrise Hill, an evening which she had not been able to forget.
+Yet she had only herself to blame for the weakness, since if Anthony had
+forgotten, no girl should cherish such a memory alone.
+
+Now here was an opportunity for proving both her courage and pride. With
+the thought of her old title of Princess, Betty's cheeks had flamed. How
+very far she had always been from living up to its real meaning. Yet she
+must hurry on and cease this absurd and selfish fashion of thinking of
+herself. A cloud had come swiftly up out of the east and in a few
+moments there would be a sudden July downpour. Often a brief storm of
+wind and rain closed an unusually warm day in the New Hampshire hills.
+
+Under no circumstances must Polly suffer. Only a week before had Mrs.
+Wharton been persuaded to leave Polly in their charge when she and
+Mollie had both promised to take every possible care of her.
+
+Suddenly Betty began running so that she arrived quite breathless at her
+destination. Her face was flushed, and from under the blue ribbon her
+hair had escaped and was curling in red-brown tendrils over her white
+forehead. Then at the entrance to the group of pines, before she has
+even become aware of Polly's disappearance, Anthony Graham had
+unexpectedly caught hold of both her hands.
+
+"Betty, you must listen to me," he demanded. "No, I can't let you go
+until I have spoken, for if I do you will find some reason for escaping
+me altogether as you have been doing these many months. You must know I
+love you and that I have cared for no one else since the hour of our
+first meeting. Always I have thought of you, always worked to be in some
+small way worthy even of daring to say I love you. Yet something has
+come between us during this past year and it is only fair that you
+should tell me what it is. I do not expect you to love me, Betty, but
+once you were my friend and I could at least tell you my hopes and
+fears. Is it that you are engaged to some one else and take this way of
+letting me know?"
+
+Still Anthony kept close hold of the girl's hands, and now after her
+first effort she made no further attempt to draw herself away. His eyes
+were fixed upon hers with an expression that there was no mistaking, yet
+something in the firm and resolute lines about his mouth revealed the
+will responsible for Anthony Graham's success and power. Quietly he now
+drew his companion closer beneath the shelter of the trees, for the
+first drops of rain were beginning to fall.
+
+"But I am still your friend, Anthony. You are mistaken in thinking that
+anything has come between us. As for my being engaged to some one else
+that is quite untrue. I only thought that you and Meg were so intimate
+that you no longer needed me." For the first time Betty's voice
+faltered.
+
+Anthony was saying in a tone she should never forget even among the
+thousands of incidents in their crowded lives, "I shall always need and
+want you, Betty, to the last instant of created time." Then he brought
+both her hands up to his lips and kissed them. "Meg was only enduring my
+friendship so that I might have some one with whom I could talk about
+you."
+
+Suddenly Anthony let go Betty's hands and stepped back a few paces away
+from her. His face had lost the radiant look of a brief moment before.
+
+"Betty, a little while ago you told me that you were still my friend and
+that no one had come between us, and it made me very happy. But I tell
+you honestly that I do not think I can be happy with such an answer for
+long. Two years ago, when you and I together watched the moon over
+Sunrise Hill, I dared not then say more than I did, I had not enough to
+offer you. But now things are different and it isn't your friendship I
+want! Ten thousand times, no! It is your love! Do you think, Betty, that
+you can ever learn to love me?"
+
+Now Betty's face was white and her gray eyes were like deep wells of
+light.
+
+"Learn to love you, Anthony? Why I am not a school girl any longer and I
+learned that lesson years and years ago."
+
+When the storm finally broke and the thunder crashed between the heavy
+deluges of rain neither Anthony nor Betty cared to make for the nearby
+shelter of Sunrise cabin. Instead they stood close together laughing up
+at the sky and at the lovely rain-swept world. Once Betty did remember
+to inquire for the vanished Polly, but Anthony assured her that Polly
+had joined Mollie and Billy half an hour before and that they would of
+course take the best possible care of her.
+
+Nevertheless at this instant Polly O'Neill was actually floundering
+desperately about in the waters of Sunrise Lake while trying to make her
+way to the side of their overturned skiff. Billy Webster, with his arm
+about Mollie, was swimming with her safely toward shore.
+
+"Don't be frightened, it is all right, dear. I'll look after Polly in a
+moment," he whispered encouragingly.
+
+Returning a few moments later Billy discovered his other companion, a
+very damp and discomfited mermaid, seated somewhat perilously upon the
+bottom of their wrecked craft.
+
+"I never knew such behavior in my life, Billy Webster," she began
+angrily, as soon as she was able to get her wet hair out of her mouth.
+"The idea of your going all the way into shore with Mollie and leaving
+me to drown. You might at least have seen that I got safe hold of your
+old boat first."
+
+"Yes, I know; I am sorry," Billy replied, resting one hand on the side
+of his skiff and so bringing his head up out of the water in order to
+speak more distinctly. "But you see, Polly, I knew you could swim and
+Mollie is so easily frightened and it all came so suddenly, the boat's
+overturning with that heavy gust of wind. To tell you the truth, I
+didn't even remember you were aboard until Mollie began asking for you.
+I wonder if you would mind helping me get this skiff right side up. It
+would be easier for us to paddle in than for me to have to swim with
+you."
+
+Gasping, Polly slid off her perch.
+
+"After that extra avalanche of cold water nothing matters," she remarked
+icily. However, her companion did not even hear her.
+
+Safe on land again, Polly waited under a tree while the young man pulled
+his boat ashore. Her sister had gone ahead to send some one down with
+blankets and umbrellas. In spite of the rain, damp clothes and the shock
+of her recent experience, Polly O'Neill was not conscious of feeling
+particularly cold.
+
+"I hope you are not very uncomfortable, and that our accident won't make
+you ill again," Billy Webster said a few moments later as he joined her.
+"I suppose I do owe you a little more explanation for having ignored you
+so completely. But you see, just about five minutes before you insisted
+on getting into our boat Mollie had promised to be my wife. We did not
+dare talk very much after you came on board, but you can understand that
+I simply wasn't able to think of any one else. You see I have loved
+Mollie ever since that day when we were children and she bound up the
+wound you had made in my head."
+
+Once more Polly gasped slightly, and of course she was beginning to feel
+somewhat chilled.
+
+Billy Webster looked at her severely. "Oh, of course I did think I was
+in love with you, Polly, for a year or so, I remember. But that was
+simply because I had not then learned to understand Mollie's true
+character. I used to believe it would be a fine thing to have a strong
+influence over you and try to show you the way you should go." Here
+Billy laughed, and he was very handsome with his damp hair pushed back
+over his bronzed face and his wet clothes showing the outline of his
+splendid boyish figure, matured and strengthened by his outdoor life.
+
+"But you see, Polly, I believe nobody is ever going to be able to
+influence you to any great extent," he continued teasingly, "and at any
+rate you and I will never have half the chances to quarrel that we would
+have had if we had ever learned to like each other. I forgive you
+everything now for Mollie's sake."
+
+For half a moment Polly hesitated, then, holding out her hand, her blue
+eyes grew gay and tender.
+
+"Thank you, Billy," she said, "for Mollie's sake. If you make her as
+happy as I think you will, why, I'll also forget and forgive you
+everything."
+
+Fortunately by the time Mrs. Martins and Ann had arrived with every
+possible comfort for the invalid. And so Polly was borne to the cabin in
+the midst of their anxious inquiries and put to bed, where neither her
+sister nor Betty were allowed to see her during the evening.
+
+If either of the girls suffered from the deprivation of her society
+there was nothing that gave any indication of unhappiness in either of
+the two faces.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI--At the Turn of the Road
+
+
+                   "By day, upon my golden hill
+                   Between the harbor and the sea,
+                   I feel as if I well could fill
+                   The world with golden melody.
+                   There is no limit to my view,
+                   No limit to my soft content,
+                   Where sky and water's fairy blue
+                   Merge to the eye's bewilderment."
+
+Polly read from the pages of a magazine, and then pausing for a moment
+she again repeated the verse aloud, giving each line all the beauty and
+significance of which it was capable.
+
+She was walking alone along a path beyond the grove of pine trees one
+Sunday morning about ten days later. She wore no hat and her dress was
+of plain white muslin without even a ribbon belt for decoration. She had
+a bunch of blue corn flowers, which she had lately gathered, pinned to
+her waist and was looking particularly young and well.
+
+Yet for the first time since her home coming Polly had recently been
+feeling somewhat lonely and neglected. There was at present absolutely
+no counting on Mollie for anything. Billy had always made demands upon
+her time when they were simply friends, but since their engagement had
+been announced there was never an entire afternoon or even morning when
+Mollie was free. In answer to Polly's protests that she was only to be
+at home during the summer and so would like to see her only sister alone
+now and then, Billy had explained that early August was the only month
+in which he had any real leisure and that he and Mollie must therefore
+make plans for their future at once. Moreover, as it was self-evident
+that her sister preferred her fianc�'s society to her own, Polly had
+been forced to let the matter drop.
+
+Then a week before, Betty had gone to Boston to see Esther and her new
+nephew, which was discouraging for her friend. For as Anthony had been
+too busy to come to the cabin except in the evenings, Polly had the
+Princess to herself during the day time.
+
+She had promised Betty to stay on at the cabin until her return, as the
+simple, outdoor life seemed to be doing her so much good; nevertheless,
+Polly had determined to go into Woodford in the next few days and
+persuade her mother to take her away unless things at the cabin became
+more interesting. She was now rested and entirely well and more than
+anxious to get back to her work again, since the friends on whom she had
+depended were at present too absorbed to give her much of their time or
+thought.
+
+"Well, Margaret Adams always told me that 'a career' was a lonely kind
+of life," Polly thought to herself. "But oh, what wouldn't I give if
+Margaret should appear at this moment at the turn of that road. She must
+have had my letter on Friday begging her to come and perhaps she had no
+other engagement. It will be delightful, too, if she brings Mr. Hunt
+along with her. I told her to ask him, as Billy can make him comfortable
+at the farm. I should like him to see Sunrise cabin and the beautiful
+country about here."
+
+Polly had finally come to the end of her lane and beyond could see the
+road leading out from the village. She was a little weary, as she had
+not walked any distance in several months until this morning. There was
+a convenient seat under the shade of a great elm tree that commanded a
+view of the country and she had her magazine with her and could hear the
+noise of an approaching motor car or carriage, should Margaret have
+decided to come.
+
+Again Polly fell to memorizing the poem she had been trying to learn
+during her stroll. It was good practice to get back into the habit of
+training her memory, and the poem seemed oddly descriptive of her
+present world.
+
+  "Tonight, upon my somber gaze
+  With gleam of silvered waters lit,
+  I feel as if I well could praise
+  The moon----"
+
+Here Polly was interrupted by the sound of a voice saying:
+
+"My dear Miss Polly, I never dreamed of finding you so well. Why, if you
+only had the famous torn hat and rake you would pass for Maud Muller any
+day!"
+
+With a cry of welcome Polly jumped to her feet.
+
+"Mr. Hunt, I am so glad to see you and so surprised!" she exclaimed.
+"Please explain how you managed, when I have been watching for you and
+Margaret all morning, to arrive without my knowing?"
+
+"But we have not arrived, and I hope you won't be too greatly
+disappointed at my coming alone. You see it is like this. I happened to
+be calling on Miss Adams when your note came and she told me that I had
+been included in your invitation. Well, it was impossible for Miss Adams
+to spend this week end with you as she was going off on a yachting party
+with some of her rich admirers, so I decided to run down and see you
+alone. It was not so remarkable my coming upon you unawares, since I
+walked out from the village. Please do sit down again and tell me you
+are glad to see me."
+
+Polly sat down as she was bid, and Richard Hunt, dropping on the ground
+near her, took off his hat, leaning his head on his hand like a tired
+boy.
+
+"Come, hurry, you haven't said you were glad yet, Miss Polly," he
+protested.
+
+Polly's eyes searched the dark ones turned half-teasingly and
+half-admiringly toward her.
+
+"Do you mean, Mr. Hunt, that you came all the way from New York to
+Woodford just to see me?" she asked wonderingly. "And that you came
+alone, without Margaret or any one else?"
+
+Her companion laughed, pushing back the iron gray hair from his
+forehead, for his long walk had been a warm one.
+
+"I do assure you I haven't a single acquaintance concealed anywhere
+about me," he declared. "But just the same I don't see why you should
+feel so surprised. Don't you know that I would travel a good many miles
+to spend an hour alone with you, instead of a long and blissful day. Of
+course I am almost old enough to be your father----"
+
+"You're not," Polly interrupted rather irritably. Yet in spite of her
+protest she was feeling curiously shy and self-conscious and Polly was
+unaccustomed to either of these two emotions. Then, just in order to
+have something to do, she carelessly drew the bunch of corn flowers from
+her belt and held them close against her hot cheeks.
+
+"Mr. Hunt," she began after a moment of awkward silence, "don't think I
+am rude, but please do not say things to me like--" the girl
+hesitated--"like that last thing; I mean your being willing to travel
+many miles to spend an hour alone with me. You have always been so kind
+that I have thought of you as my real friend, but of course if you begin
+to be insincere and flatter me as you would some one whom you did not
+honestly like, I----"
+
+Polly ceased talking at this instant because Richard Hunt had risen
+quickly to his feet and put forth his hand to assist her.
+
+"Let us go on to your cabin," he replied gravely. "You are right. I
+should not have said a thing like that to you. But you are wrong, Polly,
+in believing I was insincere. You see, I grew to be pretty fond of you
+last winter and very proud, seeing with what courage you fought your
+battles alone." Richard Hunt paused, walking on a few paces in silence.
+"I shall not worry you with the affection of a man so much older than
+you are," he continued as though having at last made up his mind to say
+all that was in his heart and be through. "Only at all times and under
+all circumstances, no matter what happens, you are to remember, Polly,
+that you are and always shall be first with me."
+
+"I--you," the girl faltered. "Why I thought you cared for Margaret. I
+never dreamed--" then somehow Polly, who had always so much to say, could
+not even finish her sentence.
+
+"No, of course you never did," the man replied gravely. "Still, I want
+you to know that Margaret and I have never thought of being anything but
+the best of friends. Now let us talk of something else, only tell me
+first that you are not angry and we will never speak of this again."
+
+"No, I am not displeased," Polly faltered, looking and feeling absurdly
+young and inadequate to the importance of the situation.
+
+Then, walking on and keeping step with her companion, suddenly a new
+world seemed to have spread itself before her eyes. Shyly she stole a
+glance at her tall companion, and then laid her hand coaxingly on his
+coat sleeve.
+
+"Will you please stop a minute. I want to explain something to you," she
+asked. Polly's expression was intensely serious; she had never been more
+in earnest; all the color seemed to have gone from her face so as to
+leave her eyes the more deeply blue.
+
+"You see, Mr. Hunt, I never, never intend marrying any one. I mean to
+devote all my life to my profession and I have never thought of anything
+else since I was a little girl."
+
+Gravely Richard Hunt nodded. Not for an instant did his face betray any
+doubt of Polly's decision in regard to her future. Then Polly laughed
+and her eyes changed from their former seriousness to a look of the
+gayest and most charming camaraderie. "Still, Mr. Hunt, if you really
+did mean what you said just now, why I don't believe I shall mind if we
+do speak of it some day again. Of course I am not in love with you,
+but----"
+
+Richard Hunt slipped the girl's arm inside his. There was something in
+his face that gave Polly a sense of strength and quiet such as she had
+never felt in all her restless, ambitious girlhood.
+
+"Yes, I understand," he answered. "But look there, Polly, isn't that
+Sunrise Hill over there and your beloved little cabin in the distance?
+And aren't we glad to be alive in this wonderful world?"
+
+The girl's voice was like a song. "I never knew what it meant to be
+really alive until this minute," she whispered.
+
+The sixth volume of the Camp Fire Girls Series will be known as "The
+Camp Fire Girls in After Years." In this story the girls will appear as
+wives and mothers. Also it will reveal the fact that romance does not
+end with marriage, and that in many cases a woman's life story is only
+beginning upon her wedding day. There will be new characters, a new plot
+and new love interests as well, but in the main the theme will follow
+the fortunes of the same group of girls who years ago formed a Camp Fire
+club and lived, worked and loved under the shadow of Sunrise Hill.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by 
+Margaret Vandercook
+
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+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
+    <meta content="The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers" name="DC.Title"/>
+    <meta content="Margaret Vandercook" name="DC.Creator"/>
+    <meta content="en" name="DC.Language"/>
+    <meta content="1915" name="DC.Created"/>
+    <meta name="generator" content="ppgen (1.08) generated May 25, 2011 07:58 PM" />
+    <title>The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers</title>
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+Project Gutenberg's The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by Margaret Vandercook
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
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+Title: The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+
+Author: Margaret Vandercook
+
+Release Date: May 26, 2011 [EBook #36229]
+
+Language: English
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+Character set encoding: UTF-8
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+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS ***
+
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+Produced by Roger Frank, Larry B. Harrison and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
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+
+</pre>
+
+<div class='center'>
+<p><span style='font-size:larger'>BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK</span></p>
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES</p>
+</div>
+<table class='c' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Ranch&#160;Girls&#160;at&#160;Rainbow&#160;Lodge</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Ranch&#160;Girls’&#160;Pot&#160;of&#160;Gold</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Ranch&#160;Girls&#160;at&#160;Boarding&#160;School</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Ranch&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;Europe</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Ranch&#160;Girls&#160;at&#160;Home&#160;Again</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Ranch&#160;Girls&#160;and&#160;their&#160;Great&#160;Adventure</span></p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES</p>
+</div>
+<table class='c' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Red&#160;Cross&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;the&#160;British&#160;Trenches</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Red&#160;Cross&#160;Girls&#160;on&#160;the&#160;French&#160;Firing&#160;Line</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Red&#160;Cross&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;Belgium</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Red&#160;Cross&#160;Girls&#160;with&#160;the&#160;Russian&#160;Army</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Red&#160;Cross&#160;Girls&#160;with&#160;the&#160;Italian&#160;Army</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Red&#160;Cross&#160;Girls&#160;Under&#160;the&#160;Stars&#160;and&#160;Stripes</span></p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS</p>
+</div>
+<table class='c' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;at&#160;Sunrise&#160;Hill</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;Amid&#160;the&#160;Snows</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;the&#160;Outside&#160;World</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;Across&#160;the&#160;Sea</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls’&#160;Careers</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;After&#160;Years</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;the&#160;Desert</span></p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;at&#160;the&#160;End&#160;of&#160;the&#160;Trail</span></p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div><a name='ifpc' id='ifpc'></a></div>
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i001' id='i001'></a>
+<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='“I Am Sorry,” Billy Replied' title=''/><br />
+<span class='caption'>“I Am Sorry,” Billy Replied</span>
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p style='font-size:1.4em; margin-top:2em;'>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS’ CAREERS</p>
+<p style='margin-top:1em;'>BY</p>
+<p style='font-size:1.2em; margin-top:1em;'>MARGARET VANDERCOOK</p>
+
+<p style='font-size:smaller'>Author of “The Ranch Girls Series,” etc.</p>
+
+<p style='margin-top:2em'>ILLUSTRATED</p>
+
+<p style='margin-top:2em'>PHILADELPHIA<br/>
+THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.<br/>
+PUBLISHERS</p>
+
+<p style='margin-top:4em; font-size:smaller'>Copyright, 1915, by<br />
+The John C. Winston Company</p>
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS</p>
+</div>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>Six Volumes</p>
+</div>
+<table class='c' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;at&#160;Sunrise&#160;Hill</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;Amid&#160;the&#160;Snows</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;the&#160;Outside&#160;World</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;Across&#160;the&#160;Sea</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls’&#160;Careers</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The&#160;Camp&#160;Fire&#160;Girls&#160;in&#160;After&#160;Years</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>CONTENTS</p>
+</div>
+<table class='c' summary=''>
+<tr><td style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</td><td></td><td style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>I.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Success or Failure?</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch1'>7</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>II.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>“Belinda”</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch2'>17</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>III.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Friends and Enemies</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch3'>33</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Farewell!</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch4'>43</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>V.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Other Girls</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch5'>55</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Fire-Maker’s Desire</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch6'>82</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>“The Flames in the Wind”</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch7'>74</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Afternoon Tea and a Mystery</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch8'>83</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Preparations</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch9'>94</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>X.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>More Puzzles</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch10'>105</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Christmas Song and Recognition</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch11'>119</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>After Her Fashion Polly Explains</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch12'>133</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Place of Memories</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch13'>149</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Sudden Summons</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch14'>163</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XV.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>“Little Old New York”</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch15'>174</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>“Moira”</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch16'>185</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Reunion</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch17'>195</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVIII.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Home Again</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch18'>209</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Illusions Swept Away</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch19'>218</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XX.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Two Engagements</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch20'>233</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXI.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>At the Turn of the Road</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch21'>243</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>ILLUSTRATIONS</p>
+</div>
+<table class='c' summary=''>
+<tr>
+  <td>“I Am Sorry,” Billy Replied</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#ifpc'><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td>Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#i013'>13</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td>She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#i063'>63</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td>“Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?”</td>
+  <td align='right'><a href='#i151'>151</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+<h1>The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers</h1>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span><a name='ch1' id='ch1'></a>CHAPTER I—Success or Failure</h2>
+<p>
+The entire theater was in darkness
+but for a single light burning at
+one corner of the bare stage, where
+stood a man and girl.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now once more, Miss Polly, please,”
+the man said encouragingly. “That last
+try had a bit more life in it. Only do
+remember that you are supposed to be
+amusing, and don’t wear such a tragic
+expression.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Then a stiff figure, very young, very thin,
+and with a tense white face, moved backward
+half a dozen steps, only to stumble
+awkwardly forward the next instant with
+both hands pressed tight together.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t—I can’t find it,” she began
+uncertainly, “I have searched——”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Lifting her eyes at this moment to her
+companion’s, Polly O’Neill burst into tears.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am a hopeless, abject failure, Mr.
+Hunt, and I shall never, never learn to
+act in a thousand years. There is no use
+in your trying to teach me, for if we remain
+at the theater for the rest of the day I shall
+make exactly the same mistakes tonight.
+Oh, how can I possibly play a funny character
+when my teeth are positively chattering
+with fright even at a rehearsal? It is
+sheer madness, my daring to appear with
+you and Margaret Adams before a first-night
+New York audience and in a new
+play. Even if I have only a tiny part, I
+can manage to make just as great a mess
+of it. Why, why did I ever dream I wished
+to have a career, I wonder. I only want to
+go back home this minute to Woodford and
+never stir a step away from that blessed
+village as long as I live.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Heigho, says Mistress Polly,” quoted
+her companion and then waited without
+smiling while the girl dried her tears.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you felt very differently from this
+several years ago when you acted with
+me in <i>The Castle of Life</i>,” he argued in a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span>
+reassuring tone. “Besides, you were then
+very young and had not had two years of
+dramatic training. I was amazed at your
+self-confidence, and now I don’t understand
+why you should feel so much more nervous.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly squared her slender shoulders. “Yes
+you do, Mr. Hunt,” she insisted, bluntly.
+“However, if you really don’t understand,
+I think I can make you see in a moment.
+Four years ago when I behaved like a
+naughty child and without letting my
+friends or family know acted the part of
+the fairy of the woods in the Christmas
+pantomime, I had not the faintest idea of
+what a serious thing I was attempting. I
+did not even dream of how many mistakes
+I <i>could</i> make. Besides, that was only a
+school-girl prank and I never thought that
+any one in the audience might know me.
+But now, why at this moment I can hear
+dozens of people whispering: ‘See that
+girl on the stage there taking the character
+of the maid, Belinda; she is Polly O’Neill.
+You may remember that she is one of the
+old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls and for
+years has been worrying her family to let
+her become an actress. I don’t believe she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span>
+will ever make a success. Really, she is
+the worst stick I ever saw on the stage!’”
+</p>
+<p>
+And so real had her imaginary critic
+become that Polly shuddered and then
+clasped her hands together in a tragic
+fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then think of my poor mother and my
+sister, Mollie, and Betty Ashton and a
+dozen or more of my old Camp Fire friends
+who have come to New York to see me make
+my début tonight! Can’t you tell Miss
+Adams I am ill; isn’t there some one who
+can take my place? I really am ill, you
+know, Mr. Hunt,” Polly pleaded, the tears
+again starting to her eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+Since Polly’s return from the summer in
+Europe, two years of eager ambition and
+hard work had been spent in a difficult
+training. As a result she looked older and
+more fragile. This morning her face was
+characteristically pale and the two bright
+patches of color usually burning on her
+cheek bones had vanished. Her chin had
+become so pointed that it seemed almost
+elfish, and her head appeared too small for
+its heavy crown of jet-black hair. Indeed,
+at this time in her life, in the opinion of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span>
+strangers, only the blueness of her eyes
+with the Irish shadows underneath saved
+the girl from positive plainness. To her
+friends, of course, she was always just
+Polly and so beyond criticism.
+</p>
+<p>
+Having finally through years of persuasion
+and Margaret Adams’ added influence
+won her mother’s consent to follow the
+stage for her profession, Polly had come to
+New York, where she devoted every possible
+hour of the day and night to her
+work. There had been hundreds of lessons
+in physical culture, in learning to walk
+properly and to sit down. Still more
+important had been the struggle with the
+pronunciation of even the simplest words,
+besides the hundred and one minor lessons
+of which the outsider never dreams. Polly
+had continued patient, hard-working and
+determined. No longer did she give performances
+of Juliet, draped in a red tablecloth,
+before audiences of admiring girls.
+</p>
+<p>
+Never for a moment since their first
+meeting at the Camp Fire play in Sunrise
+Hill cabin had Margaret Adams ceased to
+show a deep interest in the wayward,
+ambitious and often unreliable Polly. She
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span>
+it was who had recommended the school in
+New York City and the master under
+whom Polly was to make her stage preparations.
+And here at the first possible
+moment Margaret Adams had offered her
+the chance for a début under the most
+auspicious conditions.
+</p>
+<p>
+The play was a clever farce called <i>A
+Woman’s Wit</i>, and especially written for
+the celebrated actress, who was to be
+supported by Richard Hunt, Polly’s former
+acquaintance, as leading man.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course the play had been in rehearsal
+for several weeks; but Polly had been
+convinced that her own work had been
+growing poorer and poorer as each day
+went by.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Look here, Miss O’Neill,” a voice said
+harshly, and Polly stopped shaking to
+glance at her companion in surprise. During
+the last few months she and Richard
+Hunt had renewed their acquaintance and
+in every possible way Mr. Hunt had been
+kind and helpful. Yet now his manner
+had suddenly grown stern and forbidding.
+</p>
+<div><a name='i013' id='i013'></a></div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span></div>
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i002' id='i002'></a>
+<img src='images/illus-013.jpg' alt='Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion' title=''/><br />
+<span class='caption'>Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion</span>
+</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span></div>
+<p>
+“You are talking wildly and absurdly
+and like a foolish child instead of a
+woman,” he said coldly. “Surely you
+must know that you are having a rare
+chance tonight because of Miss Adams’
+friendship and you must not disappoint
+her. If you fail to succeed, that will be unfortunate,
+but if you run away—” Suddenly
+Richard Hunt laughed. What a ridiculous
+suggestion! Of course Polly had only been
+talking in a silly school-girl fashion without
+any idea of being taken seriously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good-by, Miss Polly, and cheer up,”
+Richard Hunt finally said, holding out his
+hand, his manner friendly once more; for
+after all she was only a frightened child
+and he was at least ten years her senior.
+“Doubtless you’ll put us all to shame
+tonight and Belinda will be the success of
+the evening.” Then as he moved away
+toward the stage door he added, “It was
+absurd of me to be so annoyed, but do you
+know, for a moment you made me believe
+you really thought of running away. What
+about the Camp Fire law of that famous
+club to which you once belonged? Did it
+not tell you to be trustworthy and not to
+undertake an enterprise rashly, but, having
+undertaken it, to complete it unflinchingly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span>
+Do go home now and rest, child, things
+are sure to turn out splendidly.” And
+with a smile of sympathy the man walked
+away.
+</p>
+<p>
+So in another moment Polly was standing
+alone on an otherwise empty stage,
+torn with indecision and dread. Was Mr.
+Hunt right in believing that she had
+uttered only an idle threat in saying that
+she meant to run away? Yet would it
+not be wiser to disappear than to make
+an utter failure of her part tonight and
+be unable either to move or speak when
+the eyes of the audience were fixed expectantly
+upon her?
+</p>
+<p>
+Slowly the girl walked toward the door,
+her face scarlet one moment, then like
+chalk the next. She could hear the scene-shifters
+moving about and realized that
+she would soon be in their way. But
+what should she do? Polly realized that
+if she went to her boarding place her
+mother and Mollie would be there waiting
+for her and then there could be no
+possible chance of escape.
+</p>
+<p>
+Always Polly O’Neill had permitted herself
+to yield to sudden, nearly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span>
+uncontrollable impulses. Should she do so now?
+In the last few years she believed she
+had acquired more self-control, better
+judgment. Yet in this panic of fear they
+had vanished once more. Of course Miss
+Adams would never forgive her, and no
+one would have any respect for her again.
+All this the girl realized and yet at the
+moment nothing appeared so dreadful as
+walking out on the stage and repeating
+the dozen or more sentences required of
+her. Rather would she have faced the
+guillotine.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘Finvarra and their land of heart’s
+desire,’” Polly quoted softly and scornfully
+to herself. Well, she had been hoping
+that she was to reach the land of her
+heart’s desire tonight. Was this not to be
+the beginning of the stage career for which
+she had worked and prayed and dreamed?
+</p>
+<p>
+Out on the street Polly was now walking
+blindly ahead. She had at last reached
+her decision, and yet how could she ever
+arrange to carry it out?
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span><a name='ch2' id='ch2'></a>CHAPTER II—“Belinda”</h2>
+<p>
+It was twenty-five minutes past eight
+o’clock and at half-past eight the curtain
+was to rise on the first performance
+of <i>A Woman’s Wit</i>, written especially
+for Margaret Adams. And because of
+her popularity and that of her leading
+man, the house had been sold out weeks
+in advance.
+</p>
+<p>
+The action of the play was to take place
+in a small town in Colorado, where a man
+and his wife were both endeavoring to be
+elected to the office of Mayor. Polly
+was to play the part of a clever little shop-girl,
+whom the heroine had brought into
+her home, supposedly as a parlor maid.
+But in reality the girl was to do all that
+was in her power to assist her mistress in
+gaining a victory over her husband. She
+was to watch his movements and to suggest
+any schemes that she might devise
+for their success.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+In the act which Polly had recently
+been rehearsing she was engaged in trying
+to discover a political speech written by
+the hero, so that the wife might read it
+beforehand and so answer it in a convincing
+fashion before the evening meeting
+of the Woman’s Club. The play was a
+witty farce, and Belinda was supposedly
+one of the cleverest and most amusing
+characters. Yet whether Polly could succeed
+in making her appear so was still
+exceedingly doubtful.
+</p>
+<p>
+With this idea in mind Richard Hunt
+left his dressing room, hoping to see Polly
+for a few moments if possible before the
+play began. Perhaps her fright had passed.
+For already the man and girl were sufficiently
+intimate friends for him to understand
+how swiftly her moods changed.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly had apparently left her dressing
+room, since there was no answer to repeated
+knockings. She could not have carried
+out her threat of the morning? Of course
+such a supposition was an absurdity. And
+yet the man’s frown relaxed and his smile
+was one of unconscious relief when a tall,
+delicate figure in a blue dress came hurrying toward
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span>
+him along the dimly-lighted
+passage-way. The girl did not seem aware
+of anything or anybody, so great was her
+hurry and nervousness. However, this
+was not unreasonable, for instead of having
+on her maid’s costume for the performance,
+she was wearing an evening
+gown of shimmering silk and in the coiled
+braids of her black hair a single pink rose.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are late, Miss Polly; may I find
+some one to help you dress?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Instantly a pair of blue eyes were turned
+toward him in surprise and reproach. They
+were probably not such intensely blue
+eyes as Polly O’Neill’s and they had a
+far gentler expression, though they were
+of exactly the same shape. And the girl’s
+hair was equally black, her figure and carriage
+almost similar, except that she was
+less thin. But instead of Polly’s accustomed
+pallor this girl’s cheeks were as
+delicately flushed as the rose in her hair.
+“Could an evening costume so metamorphose
+a human being?” Richard Hunt
+wondered in a vaguely puzzled, uncertain
+fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+A small hand was thrust forward without
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span>
+the least sign of haste, although it
+trembled a little from shyness.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m not Polly, Mr. Hunt,” the girl
+said smiling. “I am Mollie, her twin
+sister. But you must not mistake us,
+because even if we do <i>look</i> alike, we are
+not in the least alike in other ways. For
+one thing, I wouldn’t be in Polly O’Neill’s
+shoes tonight, not for this whole world
+with a fence around it. How can she do
+such a horrible thing as to be an actress?
+Polly considers that I haven’t a spark
+of ambition, but why on earth should
+a sensible girl want a career?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly Mollie blushed until her cheeks
+were pinker than before. “Oh, I am so
+sorry! I forgot for the moment that you
+were an actor, Mr. Hunt. Of course
+things are very different with you. A
+man <i>must</i> have a career! But I ought
+to apologize for talking to you without
+our having met each other. You see,
+Polly has spoken of you so many times,
+saying how kind you had been in trying
+to help her, that I thought for the instant
+I actually did know you. Forgive me,
+and now I <i>must</i> find Polly.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Mollie was always shy, but realizing all
+at once how much she had confided to
+a stranger, she felt overwhelmed with embarrassment.
+How the other girls would
+laugh if they ever learned of what she
+had said. Yet Mr. Hunt was not laughing
+at her, nor did he appear in the least
+offended. Mollie was sure he must be
+as kind as Polly had declared him, although
+he did look older than she had
+expected and must be quite thirty, as his
+hair was beginning to turn gray at the
+temples and there were heavy lines about
+the corners of his mouth. As Mollie now
+turned the handle of her sister’s dressing-room
+door she was hoping that her new
+acquaintance had not noticed how closely
+she had studied him.
+</p>
+<p>
+However, she need not have worried,
+for her companion was only thinking of
+how pretty she was and yet how oddly
+like her twin sister. For Mollie seemed to
+possess the very graces that Polly lacked.
+Evidently she was more amiable, better
+poised and more reliable, her figure was
+more attractive, her color prettier and her
+manner gracious and appealing.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am afraid you won’t find your sister
+in there, Miss O’Neill. I have knocked
+several times without an answer,” Richard
+Hunt finally interposed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Won’t find her?” Mollie repeated the
+words in consternation. “Then where on
+earth is she? Miss Adams sent me to
+tell Polly that she wished to speak to her
+for half a moment before the curtain went
+up. Besides, Miss Ashton has already
+searched everywhere for her for quite ten
+minutes and then came back to her seat
+in the theater, having had to give up.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Forcibly Mollie now turned the handle
+of the door and peered in. The small
+room was unoccupied, as the other two
+members of the company who shared it
+with Polly, having dressed some time
+before, had also disappeared.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Richard Hunt could wait no longer
+to assist in discovering the wanderer. Five
+minutes had passed, so that his presence
+would soon be required upon the stage.
+Surely if Polly had failed to appear at
+the theater her sister would be aware
+of it. Yet there was still a chance that
+she had sent a hurried message to the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span>
+stage director so that her character could
+be played by an understudy. Even Polly
+would scarcely wreck the play by simply
+failing at the last moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+He was vaguely uneasy. He had been
+interested in Polly, first because of their
+chance acquaintance several years before
+when they both acted in <i>The Castle of Life</i>,
+and also because of Miss Adams’ deep affection
+for her protégé. The man had been
+unable to decide whether Polly had any
+talent for the career which she professed to
+care for so greatly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now and then during the frequent rehearsals
+of their new play she had done very well.
+But the very day after a clever performance
+she was more than apt to give
+a poor one until the stage manager had
+almost despaired. Nevertheless Richard
+Hunt acknowledged to himself that there
+was something about the girl that made one
+unable to forget her. She was so intense,
+loving and hating, laughing and crying
+with her whole soul. Whatever her fate
+in after years, one could not believe that it
+would be an entirely conventional one.
+</p>
+<p>
+His cue had been called and Miss Adams
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span>
+was already on the stage. In a quarter of
+an hour when Belinda was summoned by
+her mistress, he would know whether or
+not Polly had feigned illness or whether
+she had kept her threat and ignominiously
+run away.
+</p>
+<p>
+The moment came. A door swung
+abruptly forward at the rear of the stage and
+through it a girl entered swiftly. She was
+dressed in a tight-fitting gray frock with
+black silk stockings and slippers. There
+was a tiny white cap on her head and she
+wore a small fluted apron. She looked very
+young, very clever and graceful. And it
+was Polly O’Neill, and Polly at her best!
+</p>
+<p>
+For the briefest instant Richard Hunt
+and Margaret Adams exchanged glances.
+It was obvious that Margaret Adams had
+also been uneasy over her favorite’s début.
+For her eyes brightened and she nodded
+encouragingly as the little maid set down
+the tray she was carrying with a bang and
+then turned saucily to speak to her master.
+A laugh from the audience followed her
+first speech.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Polly of the morning had completely
+vanished. This girl’s cheeks were crimson,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span>
+her eyes danced with excitement and vivacity.
+She was fairly sparkling with Irish
+wit and grace and, best of all, she appeared
+entirely unafraid.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not alone Polly O’Neill’s two comparatively
+new friends upon the stage with
+her, who now felt relieved from anxiety by
+her clever entrance. More than a dozen
+persons in the audience forming a large
+theater party occupying the sixth and seventh
+rows in the orchestra chairs, breathed
+inaudible sighs of relief.
+</p>
+<p>
+There sat Betty Ashton and Dick and
+Esther, who had come down from Boston to
+New York City for Polly’s début. Next
+Betty was a handsome, grave young man,
+who had only a few days before been
+elected to the New Hampshire Legislature
+by the residents of Woodford and the
+surrounding country, Anthony Graham.
+On his other side eat his sister, Nan, a dark-eyed,
+dark-haired girl with a quiet, refined
+manner. Near by and staring straight
+ahead through a pair of large, gold-rimmed
+spectacles was another girl with sandy hair,
+light blue eyes, a square jaw and a determined,
+serious expression. Nothing did
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span>
+Sylvia Wharton take lightly, and least of all
+the success or failure tonight of her adored
+step-sister. For Sylvia’s ardent affection
+for Polly had never wavered since the early
+Camp Fire days at Sunrise Hill. And
+while she often disapproved of her and
+freely told her so, as she had then, still
+Polly knew that Sylvia could always be
+counted on through good and ill.
+</p>
+<p>
+So far as the younger girl’s own work was
+concerned there was little doubt of her
+success. Each year she had been at the
+head of her class in the training school for
+nurses and had since taken up the study of
+medicine. For Sylvia had never cared for
+frivolities, for beaus or dancing or ordinary
+good times. Polly often used to say that
+she would like to shake her younger step-sister
+for her utter seriousness, yet Sylvia
+rarely replied that she might have other and
+better reasons for administering the same
+discipline to Polly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Back of this party of six friends Mr. and
+Mrs. Wharton, Polly’s mother and stepfather,
+her sister Mollie and Billy Webster
+were seated. Billy, however, was no longer
+called by this youthful title except by his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span>
+most intimate friends. He had never
+since the day Polly had teased him concerning
+it, asking him how it felt to be a
+shadowy imitation of a great man, used
+the name of Daniel. He was known to
+the people in Woodford and the neighborhood
+as William Webster, since Billy’s
+father had died a year before and he now
+had the entire management of their large
+and successful farm. Indeed, the young
+man was considered one of the most expert
+of the new school of scientific farmers in
+his section of the country. And although
+Billy undoubtedly looked like a country
+fellow, there was no denying that he was
+exceedingly handsome. He was six feet
+tall, with broad shoulders and an erect
+carriage; his skin was tanned by the sun
+and wind, making his eyes appear more
+deeply blue and his hair almost the color
+of copper. Now seated next to Mollie he
+was endeavoring to make her less nervous,
+although any one could have seen he was
+equally nervous himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+Frank Wharton and Eleanor Meade,
+who were to be married in a few months,
+were together, and next came yellow-haired Meg and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span>
+her brother, John. Then
+only a few places away Rose and Dr.
+Barton and Faith, the youngest of the
+former group of Sunrise Hill Camp Fire
+girls, who had been adopted by her former
+guardian and now was known by Dr.
+Barton’s name. Faith was an unusual-looking
+girl, with the palest gold hair which
+she wore tied back with a black velvet
+ribbon. She had a curious, far-away expression
+in her great blue eyes and the
+simplicity of a little child. For Faith had
+never ceased her odd fashion of living in
+dreams, so that the real world was yet an
+unexplored country to her. Indeed, in
+her quaint short-waisted white muslin frock,
+with a tiny fan and a bunch of country
+flowers in her hand, she might have sat as
+one of the models for Arthur Rackham’s
+spiritual, half-fairy children. Tonight she
+was even more quiet than usual, since this
+was the first time she had ever been inside
+a theater in her life. And had it not been
+for the reality of Polly O’Neill’s presence,
+one of her very own group of Camp Fire
+girls, she must have thought herself on a
+different planet.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Herr and Frau Krippen had not been
+able to leave Woodford for this great occasion,
+since they boasted a very small and
+very new baby, with hair as red as its
+father’s and as Esther’s. But otherwise
+it looked singularly like the first of the
+Sunrise Hill Camp Fire guardians, the Miss
+Martha, whom the girls had then believed
+fore-ordained to eternal old-maidenhood.
+</p>
+<p>
+So on this eventful night in her career,
+Polly O’Neill’s old friends and family were
+certainly well represented. Fortunately,
+however, she had so far given no thought
+to their presence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now Belinda must rush frantically about
+on the stage, making a pretext of dusting
+the while she is eagerly listening to the conversation
+taking place between her master
+and mistress. Then in another moment
+they both leave the stage and Polly at last
+has her real opportunity. For with Margaret
+Adams present, naturally the chief
+attention of the audience would be concentrated
+upon her with her talent, her
+magnetism and her great reputation.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet as Miss Adams slipped away with a
+fleeting and encouraging lifting of her eyebrows toward
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span>
+her little maid, suddenly
+Polly O’Neill felt that the hour of her
+final reckoning had come. Curiously, until
+now she had not been self-conscious nor
+frightened; not for an instant had she been
+pursued by the terrors that had so
+harassed her all day that she had made a
+dozen plans to escape. Yet with the
+attention of the large audience suddenly
+riveted upon her alone, they were returning
+like a thousand fiends.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly felt like an atom surrounded by
+infinite space, like a spot of light in an
+eternity of darkness. Her voice had gone,
+her limbs were stiff, yet automatically she
+continued her dusting for a moment longer,
+hoping that a miracle might turn her into
+a human being again. Useless: her voice
+would never return, her legs felt as if they
+belonged to a figure in Mrs. Jarley’s waxworks.
+</p>
+<p>
+One could not devote the entire evening
+polishing the stage furniture! Already she
+could hear the agonized voice of the
+prompter whispering her lines, which he
+naturally supposed her to have forgotten.
+</p>
+<p>
+In some fashion Polly must have dragged
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span>
+herself to the spot on the stage where she
+had been previously instructed to stand,
+and there somehow she must have succeeded
+in repeating the few sentences
+required of her, although she never knew
+how she did the one or the other; for
+soon the other players made their proper
+entrances and the unhappy Belinda was
+allowed to withdraw.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet although Polly could never clearly
+recall the events on the stage during these
+few moments, of one thing she was absolutely
+conscious. By some wretched accident
+she had glanced appealingly down,
+hoping to find encouragement in the face
+of her mother, sister, or Betty Ashton.
+Instead, however, she had caught the blue
+eyes of her old antagonist, Billy Webster,
+fixed upon her with such an expression of
+consternation, sympathy and amusement
+that she was never to forget the look for the
+rest of her life.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the final scene, the one so diligently
+rehearsed during the morning, Belinda did
+not make such a complete failure. But,
+as she slipped away to her dressing room
+at the close of the performance, Polly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span>
+O’Neill knew, before tongue or pen could set
+it down, the verdict that must follow her
+long-desired stage début. Alas, that in this
+world there are many of us unlike Cæsar:
+we come, we see, but we do not conquer!
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span><a name='ch3' id='ch3'></a>CHAPTER III—Friends and Enemies</h2>
+<p>
+Standing outside in the dark passage
+for a moment, Polly hesitated with
+her hand on the door-knob, having
+already opened the door a few inches.
+From the inside she could plainly hear the
+voices of the two girls who shared the
+dressing room with her. Neither one of
+them had an important place in the cast.
+They merely came on in one of the scenes as
+members of a group and without speaking.
+However, they were both clever, ambitious
+girls whom Polly liked. Now her attention
+had been arrested by hearing the sound of
+her own name.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Polly O’Neill was a dreadful failure,
+wasn’t she?” one of them was saying.
+“Well, I am not in the least surprised.
+Indeed, it was just what I expected. Of
+course, she was only given the part of
+Belinda because of favoritism. Miss Adams
+is such a great friend of hers!”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Then before Polly could make her presence
+known the second girl replied:
+</p>
+<p>
+“So far as I can see, Polly O’Neill has
+never shown a particle of ability at any of
+the rehearsals that would justify her being
+placed over the rest of us. I am sure that
+either you or I would have done far better.
+But never mind; perhaps some day we may
+be famous actresses and she nothing at all,
+when there is no <i>Miss Adams</i> to help her
+along.”
+</p>
+<p>
+But at this same instant Polly walked
+into the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am so sorry I overheard what you
+said, but it was entirely my fault, not
+yours,” she began directly. “Only please
+don’t think I intended to be eavesdropping.
+It was quite an accident my appearing
+just at the wrong moment. Of course I am
+hurt by your thinking I acted Belinda so
+poorly. Perhaps one of you <i>would</i> have been
+more successful. But do please understand
+that I realize perfectly that I had the
+chance given me because of Miss Adams’
+friendship and not because of my own
+talents.” Then, though Polly’s cheeks
+were flaming during her long speech and her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span>
+tones not always steady, she smiled at her
+companions in entire good fellowship.
+</p>
+<p>
+Immediately the older girl, walking across
+the floor, laid her hand on Polly’s shoulder.
+“I am not going to take back <i>all</i> I said a
+while ago, for I meant a part of it,” she
+declared half apologetically and half with
+bravado. “Honestly, I don’t think you
+were very good as Belinda. But I have
+seen you act rather well at rehearsals now
+and then. I think you failed tonight
+because you suddenly grew so frightened.
+Don’t be discouraged; goodness knows it
+has happened to many an actor before who
+afterwards became famous,” she ended in
+an effort to be comforting.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, and it is all very well for us to talk
+here in our dressing rooms about being
+more successful than you were,” the second
+girl added, “but there is no way of our
+proving that we would not have had even
+worse cases of stage fright.” She gave
+Polly’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Of course,
+you must know we are both jealous of Miss
+Adams’ affection for you or we would never
+have been such horrid cats.” The girl
+blushed. “Do try and forget what we said,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span>
+it was horrid not to have been kinder and
+more sympathetic. You may have a
+chance to pay us back with interest some
+day. Anyhow, you are a splendid sport
+not to be angry. I am sure it is the people
+who take things as you have this who will
+win out in the end.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Then no one referred to the subject again.
+For it was plain that Polly was exhausted
+and that her nerves had nearly reached the
+breaking point. Instead, both girls now
+did their best to assist her in taking off the
+costume of the ill-fated Belinda and in
+getting into an ordinary street costume.
+For Polly was to meet her family and
+friends in a small reception room adjoining
+Miss Adams’ dressing room, five minutes
+after the close of the play. She would have
+preferred to have marched up to the cannon’s
+mouth, and she was much too tired at
+present either for congratulations or censure.
+She heard Mollie and Betty Ashton coming
+toward the door to seek for her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course they were both immediately
+enthusiastic over Polly’s début and were
+sure that she had been a pronounced success.
+For in the minds of her sister and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span>
+friend, Polly was simply incapable of failure.
+And perhaps they did succeed in making the
+rest of the evening easier for her. But then
+all of her old Camp Fire and Woodford
+friends were as kind as possible. To have
+one of their own girls acting on a real stage
+seemed fame enough in itself.
+</p>
+<p>
+But from two of her friends, from Sylvia
+Wharton and from Billy Webster, Polly
+received the truth as they saw it. Sylvia’s
+came with spoken words, and Billy’s by
+a more painful silence.
+</p>
+<p>
+As Polly entered the room, Sylvia came
+forward, and kissed her solemnly. The
+two girls had not seen each other for a
+number of weeks. Sylvia had only arrived
+in New York a few hours before.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You were dreadfully nervous, Polly,
+just as I thought you would be,” Sylvia
+remarked quietly, holding her step-sister’s
+attention by the intensity and concentration
+of her gaze behind the gold-rimmed
+spectacles. “Now I am afraid you are fearfully
+tired and upset. I do wish you would
+go home immediately and go to bed instead
+of talking to all these people. But I suppose
+you have already decided because you did
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span>
+not act as well as you expected this evening
+that you will never do any better. Promise
+me to be reasonable this one time, Polly,
+and may I see you alone and have a talk
+with you tomorrow?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Then there was only time for the older
+girl to nod agreement and to place her hot
+hand for an instant into Sylvia’s large,
+strong one, that already had a kind of healing
+touch.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Mrs. Wharton was now demanding
+her daughter’s attention, wishing to introduce
+her to friends. Since she had finally
+made up her mind to allow Polly to try her
+fate as an actress, Mrs. Wharton had no
+doubt of her ultimate brilliant success.
+</p>
+<p>
+Five minutes afterwards, quite by accident,
+Richard Hunt found himself standing
+near enough to Polly to feel that he
+must also say something in regard to her
+début.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am glad Belinda did not run away
+today, Miss Polly,” he whispered. “Do
+you know I almost believed she intended to
+for a few moments this morning?” And the
+man smiled at the absurdity of his idea.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly glanced quickly up toward her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span>
+companion, a warm flush coloring her
+tired face. “It might have been better
+for the play if I had, Mr. Hunt, I’m
+a-thinking,” she answered with a mellow
+Irish intonation in the low tones of her
+voice. “But you need not think I did
+not mean what I said. Don’t tell on me,
+but I had a ticket bought and my bag
+packed and all my plans made for running
+away and then at the last even I could
+not be quite such a coward.” The girl’s
+expression changed. “Perhaps, after all,
+I may yet be forced into using that ticket
+some day,” she added, half laughing and
+half serious, as she turned to speak to
+some one else who had joined them.
+</p>
+<p>
+For another idle moment the man still
+thought of his recent companion. How
+much or how little of her rash statements
+did the child mean? Yet he might have
+spared himself the trouble of this reflection,
+for this question about Polly was
+never to be satisfactorily answered.
+</p>
+<p>
+Although by this time the greater number
+of persons in Margaret Adams’ reception
+room had spoken to Polly either to
+say kind things or the reverse, there was,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span>
+however, one individual who had devoted
+his best efforts to avoiding her. Yet
+there had never been such an occasion
+before tonight. For whether he chanced
+to be angry with her at the moment or
+pleased, Billy Webster had always enjoyed
+the opportunity of talking to Polly, since
+she always stirred his deepest emotions,
+no matter what the emotions chanced to
+be. Tonight he had no desire to repeat
+the fatal words, “I told you so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course he had always known that
+Polly O’Neill would never be a successful
+actress; she was far too erratic, too
+emotional. If only she had been sensible
+for once and listened to him that day in
+the woods long ago! Suddenly Billy
+squared his broad shoulders and closed
+his firm young lips. For, separating herself
+from every one else, Polly was actually
+marching directly toward him, and she
+had ever an uncanny fashion of guessing
+what was going on in other people’s heads.
+</p>
+<p>
+Underneath his country tan Billy Webster
+blushed furiously and honestly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You think I was a rank failure, don’t
+you?” Polly demanded at once.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Still speechless, the young man nodded
+his head.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You don’t believe I ever will do much
+better?” Again Billy nodded agreement.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And that I had much better have
+stayed at home in Woodford and learned
+to cook and sew and—and—well, some day
+try to be somebody’s wife?” the girl
+ended a little breathlessly.
+</p>
+<p>
+This time Billy Webster did not mince
+matters. “I most assuredly do,” he answered
+with praiseworthy bluntness.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now for the first time since her fiasco
+as Belinda, Polly’s eyes flashed with something
+of their old fire. And there in the
+presence of the company, though unheeded
+by them, she stamped her foot just as she
+always had as a naughty child.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will succeed, Billy Webster, I will,
+I will! I don’t care how many failures
+I may make in learning! And just because
+I want to be a good actress is no reason
+why I can’t marry some day, if there is
+any man in the world who could both
+love and understand me and who would
+not wish to make me over according to
+his own particular pattern.” Then Polly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span>
+smiled. “Thank you a thousand times,
+though, Billy, for you are the solitary
+person who has done me any good tonight.
+It is quite like old times, isn’t it, for us
+to start quarreling as soon as we meet.
+But, farewell, I must go home now and to
+bed.” Polly held out her hand. “You
+are an obstinate soul, Billy, but I can’t
+help admiring you for the steadfast way
+in which you disapprove of me.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span><a name='ch4' id='ch4'></a>CHAPTER IV—Farewell!</h2>
+<p>
+Margaret Adams was in her
+private sitting room in her own
+home, an old-fashioned red brick
+house near Washington Square. She had
+been writing letters for more than an
+hour and had just seated herself in a
+big chair and closed her eyes. She looked
+very young and tiny at this instant to
+be such a great lady. Her silk morning
+dress was only a shade lighter than the
+rose-colored chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly ten fingers were lightly laid
+over her eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Guess who I am or I shall never
+release you,” a rich, soft voice demanded,
+and Margaret Adams drew the fingers
+down and kissed them.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Silly Polly, as if it could be any one
+else? What ever made you come out
+in this rain, child? You had a cold, anyway,
+and it is a perfectly beastly day.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Instead of replying, Polly sat down in
+front of a small, open fire, putting her
+toes up on the fender.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are a hospitable lady,” she remarked
+finally, “but I am not wet specially.
+I left my damp things down stairs
+so as not to bring them into this pretty
+room. It always makes me think of the
+rose lining to a cloud; one could never
+have the blues in here.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The room was charming. The walls
+were delicately pink, almost flesh color,
+with a deeper pink border above. A few
+original paintings were hung in a low
+line—one of an orchard with apple trees
+in spring bloom. The mantel was of
+white Italian marble with a bust of Dante’s
+Beatrice upon it and this morning it also
+held a vase of roses. Over near the window
+a desk of inlaid mahogany was littered
+with letters, papers, writing materials
+and photographs. On a table opposite
+the newest magazines and books were carefully
+arranged, together with a framed
+photograph of Polly and Margaret Adams’
+taken when they were in London several
+years before. There was also a photograph of Richard
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span>
+Hunt and several others
+of distinguished men and women who
+were devoted friends of the famous actress.
+</p>
+<p>
+A big, rose-colored divan was piled with
+a number of silk and velvet cushions of
+pale green and rose. Then there were
+other odd chairs and tables and shaded
+lamps and curtains of rose-colored damask
+hung over white net. But the room was
+neither too beautiful nor fanciful to be
+homelike and comfortable. Two or three
+ugly things Margaret Adams still kept
+near her for old associations’ sake and
+these alone, Polly insisted, made it possible
+for her to come into this room. For
+she, too, was an ugly thing, allowed to
+stay there now and then because of past
+association.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly was not looking particularly well
+today. She had been acting for ten days
+in <i>A Woman’s Wit</i>, though that would
+scarcely explain her heavy eyelids, nor
+her colorless cheeks. Polly’s eyes were
+so big in her white face and her hair so
+black that actually she looked more like
+an Irish pixie than an ordinary every-day
+girl.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“You’ll stay to lunch with me, Polly,
+and I’ll send you home in my motor,”
+Margaret Adams announced authoritatively.
+“I suppose your mother and Mollie
+have gone back to Woodford? I know
+Betty has returned to Boston, she came in
+to say good-by and to tell me that she is
+spending the winter in Boston with her
+brother, Dr. Ashton, and his wife. Betty
+is really prettier than ever, don’t you
+think so? I believe it was you, Polly,
+who really saved Betty from marrying
+her German princeling, but what will the
+child do now without you to look after her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Adams arose and walked across
+the room, presumably to ring for her
+maid, but in reality to have a closer look
+at her visitor. For Polly had not yet
+answered her idle questions; nor did she
+even show the slightest interest in the
+mention of her beloved Betty’s name.
+Something most unusual must be the
+matter with her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <i>should</i> like to stay to lunch if no one
+else is coming,” Polly returned a moment
+later. “I did not like to disturb you earlier.
+There is something I want to tell you and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span>
+so I might as well say it at once. I am not
+going to try to act Belinda any longer.
+I am going away from New York tomorrow.
+Yet you must not think I am ungrateful,
+even though I am not going to tell you
+where I am going nor what I intend to do.”
+Polly clasped her thin arms about her
+knees and began slowly rocking herself
+back and forth with her eyes fastened on the
+fire, as though not daring to glance toward
+her friend.
+</p>
+<p>
+At first Margaret Adams made no reply.
+Then she answered coldly and a little
+disdainfully: “So you are playing the
+coward, Polly! Instead of trying each
+night to do better and better work you are
+running away. If for an instant I had
+dreamed that you had so little courage, so
+little backbone, I never should have encouraged
+you to enter one of the most difficult
+professions in the whole world. Come,
+dear, you are tired and perhaps ill. I ought
+not to scold you. But I want you to forget
+what you have just said. Goodness
+knows, I have not forgotten the bitterly
+discouraged days I used to have and do still
+have every now and then. Only somehow
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span>
+I hoped a Camp Fire girl might be different,
+that her club training might give her
+fortitude. Remember ‘Wohelo means work.
+We glorify work because through work we
+are free. We work to win, to conquer and
+be masters. We work for the joy of working
+and because we are free.’ Long ago I
+thought you and I decided that the Camp
+Fire rules would apply equally well to
+whatever career a girl undertook, no matter
+what she might try to do or be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I have not forgotten; I think of our
+old talks very often,” was Polly’s unsatisfactory
+reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+A little nearer the fire Margaret Adams
+now drew her own big chair. It was
+October and the rain was a cold one, making
+the blaze comforting. The whole atmosphere
+of the room was peculiarly intimate
+and cozy and yet the girl did not appear
+any happier.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder if you would like to hear of my
+early trials, Polly?” Margaret asked. “Not
+because they were different from other
+people’s, but perhaps because they were so
+like. I believe I promised to tell you my
+history once several years ago.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+The older woman did not glance toward
+her visitor, as she had no doubt of her
+interest. Instead she merely curled herself
+up in her chair like a girl eager to tell
+a most interesting story.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You see, dear, I made my début not
+when I was twenty-one like you are, but
+when I was exactly seven. Of course even
+now one does not like to talk of it, but I
+never remember either my father or mother.
+They were both actors and died when I was
+very young, leaving me without money and
+to be brought up in any way fate chose.
+I don’t know just why I was not sent at
+once to an orphan asylum, but for some
+reason or other a woman took charge of me
+who used to do all kinds of odd work about
+the theater, help mend clothes, assist with
+the dressing, scrub floors if necessary. She
+was frightfully poor, so of course there is
+no blame to be attached to her for making
+me try to earn my own bread as soon as
+possible. And bread it was <i>actually</i>.”
+Margaret Adams laughed, yet not with the
+least trace of bitterness. “A child was
+needed in a play, one of the melodramas
+that used to be so popular when I was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span>
+young, a little half-starved waif. I dare
+say I had no trouble in looking the part.
+You see I’m not very big now, Polly, so I
+must have been a ridiculously thin, homely
+child, all big staring eyes and straight
+brownish hair. I was engaged to stand
+outside a baker’s shop window gazing wistfully
+in at a beautiful display of shiny currant
+buns until the heroine appeared.
+Then, touched by my plight, she nobly
+presented me with a penny with which I
+purchased a bun. Well, dear, that piece
+of bread was all the pay I received for my
+night’s performance, and it was all the
+supper I had. One night—funny how I
+can recall it all as if it were yesterday—coming
+out of the shop I stumbled, dropped
+my bun and at the same instant saw it
+rolling away from me down toward the
+blazing row of footlights. I had not a
+thought then of where I was or of anything
+in all the world but that I was a desperately
+hungry child, losing my supper. So with
+a pitiful cry I jumped up and ran after
+my bread. When I picked it up I think
+I hugged it close to me like a treasure and
+kissed it. Well, dear, you can imagine that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span>
+the very unconsciousness, the genuineness
+of the little act won the audience. I know a
+good many people cried that night and
+afterwards. The reason I still remember the
+little scene so perfectly was because after
+that first time I had to do the same thing
+over and over again as long as the play ran.
+It was my first ‘hit,’ Polly, though I never
+understood what it meant for years and
+years afterwards.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Poor baby,” Polly whispered softly,
+taking her friend’s hand and touching it
+with her lips. “But I don’t care how or
+why the thing happened I have always
+known that you must have been a genius
+from the very first.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Genius?” The older woman smiled,
+shaking her head. “I don’t think so,
+Polly; I may have had some talent, although
+it took me many years to prove it. Mostly
+it has all been just hard work with me and
+beginning at seven, you see I have had a
+good many years. Do you think I became
+famous immediately after I captured the
+audience and the bun? My dear, I don’t
+believe I have ever known another girl as
+impossible as I was as an actress after I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span>
+finally grew up. I did not continue acting.
+My foster mother married and I was then
+sent to school for a number of years.
+Finally, when I was sixteen, I came back
+to the stage, though I did not have a speaking
+part till five years later. You see, I was
+not pretty, and I never got very big in spite
+of the buns. It was not until I played in
+<i>The Little Curate</i> years after that I made
+any kind of reputation.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Margaret Adams leaned over and put
+both hands on Polly’s thin shoulders.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t you see, dear, how silly, how
+almost wicked you will be if you run away
+from the opportunity I am able to give
+you. I never had any one to help me. It
+was all nothing but hard, wearing work and
+few friends, with almost no encouragement.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I see, Margaret,” Polly returned
+gravely. Then, getting up, she sat for a
+few moments on the arm of her friend’s
+chair. “Yet I <i>must</i> give up the chance
+you have given me just the same, dear, and
+I <i>must</i> go away from New York tomorrow.
+I can’t tell you why I am going or where
+because I am afraid you might dissuade me.
+Oh, I suppose it is foolish, even mad, of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span>
+me, but I would not be myself if I were
+reasonable, and I am doing what seems
+wisest to me. I have written to mother
+and made her understand and to Sylvia
+because she almost forced me into promising
+her that I would keep her informed this
+winter where I was and what I was doing.
+I am not confiding in any one else in the
+whole world. But if you think I am ungrateful,
+Margaret, you think the very wrongest
+thing in the whole world and I’ll prove it
+to you one day, no matter what it costs.
+The most dreadful part is that I am not
+going to be able to see you for a long time.
+That is the hardest thing. You will never
+know what you have meant to me in these
+last few years when I have been away from
+home and my old friends. But I believe
+you are lonely too, dear, now and then in
+spite of your reputation and money and all
+the people who would like to know you.”
+Polly got up now and began walking
+restlessly about the room, not knowing
+how to say anything more without betraying
+her secret.
+</p>
+<p>
+She glanced at the photograph of Richard
+Hunt.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you and Mr. Hunt very special
+friends, Margaret?” Polly asked, an idea
+having suddenly come into her mind. “I
+think he is half as nice as you are and that
+is saying a great deal.”
+</p>
+<p>
+For a perceptible moment Margaret
+Adams did not reply and then she seemed
+to hesitate, perhaps thinking of something
+else. “Yes, we have been friends for a
+number of years, sometimes intimate ones,
+sometimes not,” she returned finally. “But
+I don’t want to talk about Mr. Hunt. I
+still want to be told what mad thing Polly
+O’Neill is planning to do next.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And if she can’t tell you?” Polly
+pleaded.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I suppose I will have to forgive
+her, because friendship without faith is of
+very little value.”
+</p>
+<p>
+And at this instant Margaret Adams’
+maid came in to announce luncheon.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span><a name='ch5' id='ch5'></a>CHAPTER V—Other Girls</h2>
+<p>
+“No, I am not in the least unhappy
+or discontented either, Esther;
+I don’t know how you can say
+such a thing,” Betty Ashton answered
+argumentatively. “You talk as though
+I did not like living here with you and
+Dick. You know perfectly well I might
+have gone south with mother for the winter
+if I had not a thousand times preferred
+staying with you.” Yet as she finished her
+speech, quite unconsciously Betty sighed.
+</p>
+<p>
+She and Esther were standing in a
+pretty living room that held a grand piano,
+shelves of books, a desk and reading table;
+indeed, a room that served all purposes
+except that of sleeping and dining. For
+Dick and Esther had taken a small house
+on the outskirts of Boston and were beginning
+their married life together as simply
+as possible, until Dr. Ashton should make
+a name and fame for himself.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Esther was now dressed for going out in
+a dark brown suit and hat with mink furs
+and a muff. Happiness and the fulfilling
+of her dreams had given her a beauty and
+dignity which her girlhood had not held.
+She was larger and had a soft, healthy
+color. With the becoming costumes which
+Betty now helped her select her red hair
+had become a beauty rather than a disfigurement
+and the content in her eyes
+gave them more color and depth, while
+about her always beautiful mouth the lines
+were so cheerful and serene that strangers
+often paused to look at her the second time
+and then went their way with a new sense
+of encouragement.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty had no thought of going out,
+although it was a brilliant December day.
+She had on a blue cashmere house dress
+and her hair was loosely tucked up on her
+head in a confusion of half-tangled curls.
+She had evidently been dusting, for she
+still held a dusting cloth in her hand.
+Her manner was listless and uninterested,
+and she was pale and frowning a little.
+Her gayety and vitality, temporarily at
+least, were playing truant.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Still I know perfectly well, Betty dear,
+that you came to be with Dick and me this
+winter not only because you wanted to
+come, but because you knew your board
+would help us along while Dick is getting
+his start. So it is perfectly natural that
+you should be lonely and miss your old
+friends in Woodford. Of course, Meg isn’t
+far away here at Radcliffe, but she is so
+busy with Harvard students as well as
+getting her degree that you don’t see much
+of each other. Suppose you come now and
+take a walk with me, or else you ride with
+Dick and I’ll go on the street car. I am
+only going to church for a rehearsal. You
+know I am to sing a solo on Sunday,”
+Esther continued in a persuasive tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, and of course Dick would so much
+prefer taking his sister to ride than taking
+his wife,” the other girl returned rather
+pettishly, abstractedly rubbing the surface
+of the mahogany table which already shone
+with much polishing.
+</p>
+<p>
+Esther shook her head. “Well, even
+though you won’t confess it, something is
+the matter with you, Betty. You have
+not been a bit like yourself since you were
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span>
+in Woodford last fall. Something must
+have happened there. I don’t wish your
+confidence unless you desire to give it me.
+But even while we were in New York, you
+were cold and stiff and unlike yourself,
+especially to Anthony Graham, and I
+thought you used to be such good friends.”
+</p>
+<p>
+There was no lack of color now in Betty
+Ashton’s face, although she still kept her
+back turned to her older sister.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We are not special friends any longer,”
+she returned coldly, “though I have nothing
+in the world against Anthony. Of
+course, I consider that he is rather spoiled
+by his political success, being elected to
+the Legislature when he is so young, but
+then that is not my affair.” Betty now
+turned her face toward her sister. “I
+suppose I need something to do—that is
+really what is the matter with me, Esther
+dear. Lately I have been thinking that I
+am the only one of the old Sunrise Hill
+Camp Fire girls who amounts to nothing.
+And I wanted so much to be loyal to our
+old ideals. There is Meg at college, Sylvia
+and Nan both studying professions, Edith
+married and Eleanor about to be. You
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span>
+have Dick, your music and your house,
+Mollie is relieving her mother of the
+responsibility of their big establishment
+and even little Faith had a poem published
+in a magazine last week. It is hard to be
+the only failure. Then of course there is
+Polly!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Never a word from her in all this
+time?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not a line since the note I received
+from her last October asking me not to be
+angry if I did not hear from her in a long
+time. No one has the faintest idea what
+has become of her—none of her friends, not
+even Mollie knows. I suppose she is all
+right though, because her mother is satisfied
+about her. Yet I can’t help wondering
+and feeling worried. What on earth
+could have induced Polly O’Neill to give
+up her splendid chance with Miss Adams,
+a chance she has been working and waiting
+for these two years?” Betty shrugged her
+shoulders. “It is stupid of me to be asking
+such questions. No one yet has ever found
+the answer to the riddle of Polly O’Neill.
+Perhaps that is why she is so fascinating.
+I always do and say exactly what people
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span>
+expect, so no wonder I am uninteresting.
+But there, run along, Esther, I hear Dick
+whistling for you. Don’t make him late.
+Perhaps I’ll get over having ‘the dumps’
+while you are away.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Esther started toward the door. “If
+only I could think of something that would
+interest or amuse you! I can’t get hold of
+Polly to cheer you up, but I shall write
+Mrs. Wharton this very evening and ask
+her to let Mollie come and spend Christmas
+with us. I believe Dick has already asked
+Anthony Graham. You won’t mind, will
+you, Betty? We wanted to have as many
+old friends as possible in our new house.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Once again Betty flushed uncomfortably,
+although she answered carelessly enough.
+“Certainly I don’t mind. Why should I?
+Now do run along. Perhaps I’ll make you
+and Dick a cake while you are gone. An
+old maid needs to have useful accomplishments.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Esther laughed. “An old maid at
+twenty-one! Well, farewell, Spinster Princess.
+I know you are a better cook and
+housekeeper than I am.” In answer to
+her husband’s more impatient whistling
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span>
+Esther fled out of the room, though still
+vaguely troubled. Betty was not in good
+spirits, yet what could be the matter with
+her? Of course, she missed the stimulus
+of Polly’s society; however, that in itself
+was not a sufficient explanation. What
+could have happened between Betty and
+Anthony? Actually, there had been a
+time when Dick had feared that they might
+care seriously for each other. Thank
+goodness, that was a mistake!
+</p>
+<p>
+Left alone Betty slowly drew out a letter
+from inside her blue gown. It had previously
+been opened; but she read it for the
+second time. Then, lighting a tall candle
+on the mantel, she placed the letter in the
+flame, watching it burn until finally the
+charred scraps were thrown aside.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty had evidently changed her mind in
+regard to her promise to her sister. For
+instead of going into the kitchen a very
+little while later she came downstairs
+dressed for the street. Opening the front
+door, she went out into the winter sunshine
+and started walking as rapidly as possible
+in the direction of one of the poorer quarters
+of the city.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span><a name='ch6' id='ch6'></a>CHAPTER VI—The Fire-Maker’s Desire</h2>
+<p>
+Outside the window of a small
+florist’s shop Betty paused for an
+instant. Then she stepped in and
+a little later came out carrying half a dozen
+red roses and a bunch of holly and fragrant
+cedar. Curiously enough, her expression
+in this short time had changed. Perhaps
+the flowers gave the added color to her face.
+She was repeating something over to herself
+and half smiling; but, as there were no
+people on the street except a few dirty
+children who were playing cheerfully in the
+gutter, no one observed her eccentric behavior.
+</p>
+<div><a name='i063' id='i063'></a></div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span></div>
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i003' id='i003'></a>
+<img src='images/illus-063.jpg' alt='She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar' title=''/><br />
+<span class='caption'>She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar</span>
+</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span></div>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;“As&nbsp;fuel&nbsp;is&nbsp;brought&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;fire<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;So&nbsp;I&nbsp;purpose&nbsp;to&nbsp;bring<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;My&nbsp;strength,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;My&nbsp;ambition,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;My&nbsp;heart’s&nbsp;desire,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;My&nbsp;joy<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;my&nbsp;sorrow<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;To&nbsp;the&nbsp;fire<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Of&nbsp;humankind.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;For&nbsp;I&nbsp;will&nbsp;tend,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;As&nbsp;my&nbsp;fathers&nbsp;have&nbsp;tended,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;my&nbsp;father’s&nbsp;fathers,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Since&nbsp;time&nbsp;began,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The&nbsp;fire&nbsp;that&nbsp;is&nbsp;called<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The&nbsp;love&nbsp;of&nbsp;man&nbsp;for&nbsp;man,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The&nbsp;love&nbsp;of&nbsp;man&nbsp;for&nbsp;God.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty’s delicate, eyebrows were drawn so
+close together that they appeared almost
+heart shaped. “I fear I have only been
+tending the love of a girl for herself these
+past few months, so perhaps it is just as
+well that I should try to reform,” she
+thought half whimsically and yet with
+reproach. “Anyhow, I shall telephone
+Meg Everett this very afternoon, though I
+am glad Esther does not know the reason
+Meg and I have been seeing so little of
+each other lately, and that the fault is
+mine, not hers.”
+</p>
+<p>
+By this time the girl had arrived in front
+of a large, dull, brown-stone building in the
+middle of a dingy street, with a subdued
+hush about it. Above the broad entrance
+hung a sign, “Home For Crippled Children.” Here for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span>
+a moment Betty Ashton’s
+courage seemed to waver, for she paused
+irresolutely, but a little later she entered
+the hall. A week before she had promised
+an acquaintance at the church where Esther
+was singing to come to the children’s
+hospital some day and amuse them by
+telling stories. Since she had not thought
+seriously of her promise, although intending
+to fulfill it when she had discovered stories
+worth the telling. This morning while
+worrying over her own affair it had occurred
+to her that the best thing she could do was
+to do something for some one else. Hence
+the visit to the hospital.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet here at the moment of her arrival
+Betty had not the faintest idea of what
+she could do or say to make herself acceptable
+as a visitor. She had a peculiar
+antipathy to being regarded as a conventional
+philanthropist, one of the individuals
+with the instinct to patronize persons less
+fortunate.
+</p>
+<p>
+Long ago when through her wealth and
+sympathy Betty had been able to do helpful
+things for her acquaintances, always she
+had felt the same shrinking sense of embarrassment,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span>
+disliking to be thanked for kindnesses.
+Yet actually in his last letter
+Anthony Graham had dared remind her of
+their first meeting, an occasion she wished
+forgotten between them both.
+</p>
+<p>
+The matron of the children’s hospital
+had been sent for and a little later she was
+conducting Betty down a broad, bare hall
+and then ushering her into a big sunlit
+room, not half so cheerless as its visitor
+had anticipated.
+</p>
+<p>
+There were two large French windows on
+the southern side and a table piled with
+books and magazines. Near one of these
+windows two girls were seated in rolling
+chairs reading. They must have been about
+fourteen years old and did not look particularly
+frail. Across from them were
+four other girls, perhaps a year or so
+younger, engaged in a game of parchesi.
+On the floor in the corner a pretty little
+girl was sewing on her doll clothes and
+another was hopping merrily about on her
+crutches, interfering with every one else.
+Only two of the cot beds in the room were
+occupied, and to these Betty’s eyes turned
+instinctively. In one she saw a happy
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span>
+little German maiden with yellow hair and
+pale pink cheeks propped up on pillows,
+busily assorting half a dozen colors of
+crochet cotton. In the other a figure was
+lying flat with the eyes staring at the
+ceiling. And at the first glance there was
+merely an effect of some one indescribably
+thin with a quantity of short, curly dark
+hair spread out on the white pillow.
+</p>
+<p>
+The matron introduced Betty, told her
+errand, and then went swiftly away, leaving
+her to do the rest for herself, and the rest
+appeared exceedingly difficult. The older
+girls who were reading closed their books
+politely and bowed. Yet it was self-evident
+that they would have preferred
+going on with their books to hearing anything
+their visitor might have to tell.
+Among the parchesi players there was a
+hurried consultation and then one of them
+looked up. “We will be through with our
+game in a few moments,” she explained
+with a note of interrogation in her voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, please don’t stop on <i>my</i> account,”
+the newcomer said hastily.
+</p>
+<p>
+On the big table Betty put down her roses
+and evergreens, not liking to present them
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span>
+with any formality under the circumstances.
+She could see that the little girl who was
+sewing in the corner was smiling a welcome
+to her and that the little German <i>Mädchen</i>
+in bed was pleased with her winter bouquet.
+For she had whispered, “<i>Schön, wunderschön</i>,”
+and stopped assorting her crochet
+work. Then the child on crutches came
+across the floor, and picking up one of the
+roses placed it on the pillow by the dark-eyed
+girl, who showed not the least sign of
+having noticed the attention.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She will look at it in a moment if she
+thinks we are not watching her,” explained
+Betty’s one friendly confidant, motioning
+to a chair to suggest that their visitor
+might sit down if she wished.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was an extremely awkward situation.
+Betty sat down. She had come to make a
+call at a place where her society was not
+desired and though they were only children,
+and she a grown woman, still she had no
+right to intrude upon their privacy. She
+found herself blushing furiously. Besides,
+what story had she to tell that would be of
+sufficient interest to hold their attention?
+Had she not thought of at least
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span>
+a dozen, only to discard them all as unsuitable?
+</p>
+<p>
+“I believe you were going to entertain us,
+I suppose with a fairy story,” began one
+of the girls, still keeping her finger between
+the covers of <i>Little Women</i>. It was hard
+luck to be torn away from that delightful
+love scene between Laurie and Jo to hear
+some silly tale of princes and princesses
+and probably a golden apple when one was
+fourteen years old. However, this morning’s
+visitor was so pretty it was a pleasure
+to look at her. Besides, she had on lovely
+clothes and was dreadfully embarrassed.
+Moreover, she was sitting quite still and
+helpless instead of poking about, asking
+tiresome questions as most visitors did.
+One could not avoid feeling a little sorry
+for <i>her</i> instead of having to receive her pity.
+</p>
+<p>
+Both wheeled chairs were now rolled
+over alongside Betty and <i>Little Women</i> was
+closed and laid on the table. The next
+instant the parchesi game was finished and
+the four players glanced with greater interest
+at their guest. The girl who had been
+dancing about on her crutches hopped up
+on the table.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am ‘Cricket’ not on the hearth, but
+on the table at this moment,” she confided
+gayly; “at least, that is what the girls
+here call me and it is as good a name as any
+other. Now won’t you tell us your name?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Betty Ashton,” the visitor answered,
+still feeling ill at ease and angry and disgusted
+with herself for not knowing how
+to make the best of the situation. Yet
+she need no longer have worried. For
+there was some silent, almost indescribable
+influence at work in the little company
+until almost irresistibly most of its occupants
+felt themselves drawn toward the
+newcomer. Of course, Polly O’Neill would
+have described this influence as the Princess’
+charm and that is as good an explanation
+as any other. But I think it was Betty
+Ashton’s ability to put herself in other
+people’s places, to think and feel and
+understand for them and with them. Now
+she knew that these eight girls, poor and
+ill though they might be, did not want
+either her pity or her patronage.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, fire away with your tale, Miss
+Ashton,” suggested Cricket somewhat impatiently,
+“and don’t make it too goody-goody if you can help
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span>
+it. Most of us are
+anxious to hear.” Cricket had pretty
+gray eyes and a great deal of fluffy brown
+hair, but otherwise the face was plain,
+except for its clever, good-natured expression.
+She gave a sudden side glance
+toward the figure on the bed only a dozen
+feet away and Betty’s glance followed hers.
+</p>
+<p>
+She saw that the red rose had been taken
+off the pillow and that the eyes that had
+been staring at the ceiling were gazing
+toward her. However, their look was
+anything but friendly.
+</p>
+<p>
+For some foolish, unexplainable reason
+the girl made Betty think of Polly. Yet
+this child’s eyes were black instead of blue,
+her hair short and curly instead of long and
+dark. And though Polly had often been
+impatient and dissatisfied, thank heaven
+she had never had that expression of sullen
+anger and of something else that Betty
+could not yet understand.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Betty had of course to turn again
+toward her auditors and smile an entirely
+friendly and charming smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+“May I take off my hat first? It may
+help me to think,” she said. Then when
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span>
+Cricket had helped her remove both her
+coat and hat she sat down again and
+sighed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you know I have come here under
+absolutely false pretences? I announced
+that I had a story to tell, but I simply can’t
+think of anything that would entertain
+you in the least and I should so hate to
+be a bore.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Then in spite of her twenty-one years,
+Betty Ashton seemed as young as any girl
+in the room. Moreover, she was exquisitely
+pretty. Her auburn hair, now neatly
+coiled, shone gold from the light behind her.
+Her cheeks were almost too flushed and
+every now and then her dark lashes
+drooped, shading the frank friendliness of
+her gray eyes. She wore a walking skirt,
+beautifully tailored, and a soft white silk
+blouse with a knot of her same favorite
+blue velvet pinned at her throat with her
+torch-bearer’s pin.
+</p>
+<p>
+Agnes Edgerton, the former reader of
+<i>Little Women</i>, made no effort to conceal her
+admiration. “Oh, don’t tell us a story,”
+she protested, “we read such a lot of
+books. Tell us something about yourself. Real people
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span>
+are so much more interesting.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But there isn’t anything very interesting
+about me, I am far too ordinary a
+person,” Betty returned. Then she glanced
+almost desperately about the big room.
+There was a mantel and a fireplace, but no
+fire, as the room was warmed with steam
+radiators. However, on the mantel stood
+three brass candlesticks holding three white
+candles and these may have been the
+source of Betty’s inspiration.
+</p>
+<p>
+Outside the smoky chimney tops of old
+Boston houses and factories reared their
+heads against the winter sky, and yet
+Betty began her story telling with the
+question: “I wonder if you would like me
+to tell you of a summer twelve girls spent
+together at Sunrise Hill?” For in the
+glory of the early morning, with the Camp
+Fire cabin at its base, Sunrise Hill had
+suddenly flashed before her eyes like a
+welcome vision.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span><a name='ch7' id='ch7'></a>CHAPTER VII—“The Flames in the Wind”</h2>
+<p>
+When an hour later Betty Ashton
+finished her story of the first years
+of the Camp Fire girls at Sunrise
+Hill on the table nearby three candles were
+burning and about them was a circle of
+eager faces.
+</p>
+<p>
+Moreover, from the cedar which Betty
+had bought as a part of her winter bouquet
+a miniature tree had been built as the
+eternal Camp Fire emblem and there also
+were the emblems of the wood gatherer,
+fire maker and torch bearer constructed
+from odd sticks which Cricket had mysteriously
+produced in the interval of the story
+telling.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is the most delightful experience
+that I ever heard of girls having, a whole
+year out of doors with a chance to do
+nice things for yourself, a fairy story that
+was really true,” Cricket sighed finally.
+“Funny, but I never heard of a Camp
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span>
+Fire club and I have never been to the
+country.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have never been to the country?”
+Betty repeated her words slowly, staring
+first at Cricket and then at the other girls.
+No one else seemed surprised by the remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+In answer the younger girl flushed. “I
+told you I had not,” she repeated in a
+slightly sarcastic tone. “But please don’t
+look as if the world had come to an end.
+Lots of poor people don’t do much traveling
+and we have five children in the family
+besides me. Of course, I couldn’t go on
+school picnics and Sunday-school excursions
+like the others.” Here an annoyed, disappointed
+expression crept into Cricket’s
+eyes and she grew less cheerful.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Please don’t spoil our nice morning
+together, Miss Ashton, by beginning to
+pity me. I hate people who are sorry for
+themselves. That is the reason we girls
+have liked you so much, you have been so
+different from the others.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Quietly Betty began putting on her
+wraps. She had been watching Cricket’s
+face all the time she had been talking of
+Sunrise Hill, of the grove of pine trees and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span>
+the lake. Yet if the thought had leapt
+into her mind that she would like to show
+her new acquaintance something more beautiful
+than the chimney tops of Boston,
+it was now plain that she must wait until
+they were better friends.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you’ll come again soon and tell us
+more?” Cricket next asked, picking up
+their visitor’s muff and pressing it close to
+her face with something like a caress.
+Then more softly, “I did not mean to be
+rude.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty nodded. “Of course I’ll come if
+you wish me. You see, I am a stranger in
+Boston and lonely. But I’ll never have
+anything half so interesting to tell you as
+the history of our club with such girls as
+Polly O’Neill, Esther and Meg and the rest
+for heroines. Nothing in my whole life
+has ever been such fun. Do you know I
+was wondering——”
+</p>
+<p>
+Here a slight noise from the figure on
+the cot near them for an instant distracted
+Betty’s attention. Yet glancing in that
+direction, there seemed to have been no
+movement. Not for a single moment did
+she believe the little girl had been listening
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span>
+to a word she was saying. For she had
+never caught another glance straying in her
+direction.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You were wondering what?” Agnes
+Edgerton demanded a little impatiently
+and Betty thought she saw the same expression
+on all the faces about her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wondering if you would like my sister,
+Esther, to come and sing our old Camp Fire
+songs to you some day?” This time there
+was no mistaking it. Her audience did look
+disappointed. “And wondering something
+else, only perhaps I had best wait, you may
+not think it would be fun, or perhaps it
+might be too much work—” Betty’s face
+was flushed, again she seemed very little
+older than the other girls about her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, we would,” Agnes Edgerton answered
+gravely, having by this time quite
+forgotten the interruption of <i>Little Women</i>
+in her new interest. “I know what you
+mean, because almost from the start I
+have been wondering the same thing. Do
+you think we girls could start a Camp
+Fire club here among ourselves, if you
+would show us how? Why, it would make
+everything so much easier and happier.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span>
+There are some of the Camp Fire things
+we could not do, of course, but the greater
+part of them——”
+</p>
+<p>
+Here, with a sudden exclamation of
+pleasure, Cricket bounced off her perch
+on the table and began dancing about in a
+fashion which showed how she had earned
+her name.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Hurrah for the Shut-In Camp Fire
+Girls and the fairy princess who brought
+us the idea!” she exclaimed. Then, surveying
+Betty more critically, “You know
+you do look rather like a princess. Are
+you one in disguise?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty laughed. She had not felt so
+cheerful in months. For with Agnes and
+Cricket on her side, the thought that had
+slowly been growing in her mind would
+surely bear fruit. But how strangely her
+old title sounded! How it did bring back
+the past Camp Fire days!
+</p>
+<p>
+“No,” she returned, “I am not a princess
+or anything in the least like one. But
+we can all have new names in our Camp
+Fire club if we like, select any character or
+idea we choose and try to live up to it.
+Next time I come I will try and explain
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span>
+things better and bring you our manual.
+Now I really must hurry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty Ashton was moving quickly toward
+the door, accompanied by Cricket, when a
+hand reached suddenly out from the side
+of a bed clutching at her skirt.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would rather have that Polly girl
+come the next time instead of you; I am
+sure I should like her much better,” the
+voice said with a decidedly foreign accent.
+Then Betty looked quickly into the pair of
+black eyes that had been so relentlessly
+fixed upon the ceiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t wonder you would rather have
+the Polly girl instead of me,” she returned
+smiling; “most people would, and perhaps
+you may see her some day if I can
+find her. Only I don’t know where she is
+just at present.”
+</p>
+<p>
+So this strange child had been listening
+to her story-telling after all. Curious that
+her fancy had lighted upon Polly, but perhaps
+the name carried its own magic.
+</p>
+<p>
+Out in the hall Betty whispered to her
+companion:
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tell me that little girl’s name, won’t
+you, Cricket? I didn’t dare ask her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span>
+What a strange little thing she is, and yet
+she makes me think of an old friend.
+Already I believe she has taken a dislike
+to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The other girl shrugged her shoulders.
+“Don’t be flattered, she dislikes everybody
+and won’t have anything to do with the
+rest of us if she can help it. Yet her name
+is Angelique, that is all we know. ‘The
+Angel’ we call her when we wish to make
+her particularly furious. She is French,
+and we believe an orphan, because no one
+comes to see her, though she has letters
+now and then, which she hides under her
+pillow,” Cricket concluded almost spitefully,
+since curiosity was one of her leading
+traits.
+</p>
+<p>
+On her way back home, oddly enough,
+Betty found her attention divided between
+two subjects. The first was natural
+enough; she was greatly pleased with her
+morning’s experience. Perhaps, if she could
+interest her new acquaintances in forming
+a Camp Fire, her winter need not be an
+altogether unhappy and dissatisfied one.
+</p>
+<p>
+There had been a definite reason for her
+leaving Woodford, which she hoped was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span>
+known to no one but herself. It had been
+making her very unhappy, but now she
+intended rising above it if possible. Of
+course, work in which she felt an interest
+was the best possible cure; there was no
+use in preaching such a transparent philosophy
+as Esther had earlier in the day.
+But she had no inclination toward pursuing
+a definite career such as Sylvia, Nan and
+Polly had chosen. The money Judge
+Maynard had left her relieved her from this
+necessity. But the name of Polly immediately
+set her thinking along the second
+direction. What was it in the unfortunate
+child at the hospital that had brought
+Polly so forcibly before her mind? There
+was no definite resemblance between them,
+only a line here and there in the face or a
+slight movement. Could Polly even be
+conscious of the girl’s existence? For
+Betty felt that there were many unexplainable
+forms of mental telegraphy by
+which one might communicate a thought to
+a friend closely in sympathy with one’s
+own nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+But by this time, as she was within a
+few feet of Esther’s and Dick’s home,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span>
+Betty smiled to herself. She had merely
+become interested in this particular child
+because she seemed more unfortunate and
+less content than the others and she meant
+to do what she could to help her, no matter
+what her personal attitude might be. As
+for Polly’s influence in the matter, it of
+course amounted to nothing. Was she not
+always wondering what had become of her
+best-loved friend and hoping she might
+soon be taken into her confidence?
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span><a name='ch8' id='ch8'></a>CHAPTER VIII—Afternoon Tea and a Mystery</h2>
+<p>
+Ten days later, returning from another
+of her now regular visits to
+the hospital, Betty Ashton was
+surprised by hearing voices inside the
+living room just as she was passing the
+closed door. Possibly Esther had invited
+some of their new acquaintances in to tea
+and had forgotten to mention it. Now
+she could hear her own name being called.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her hair had been blown in every direction
+by the east wind and she had been
+sitting on the floor at the hospital, building
+a camp fire in the old chimney place, with
+the grate removed, according to the most
+approved camping methods. Straightening
+her hat and rubbing her face for an
+instant with her handkerchief, Betty made
+a casual entrance into the room, trying to
+assume an agreeable society manner to
+make up for her other deficiencies.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was five o’clock and growing dark,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span>
+although as yet the lights were not on.
+Esther was sitting at a little round wicker
+table pouring tea and Meg, who had
+evidently lately arrived, was standing near
+waiting to receive her cup. But in the
+largest chair in the room with her back
+turned to the opening door was a figure
+that made Betty’s heart behave in the
+most extraordinary fashion. The hair was
+so black, the figure so graceful that for
+the moment it seemed it could only be one
+person—Polly! Betty’s welcome was no
+less spontaneous, however, when <i>Mollie</i>
+O’Neill, jumping up, ran quickly toward her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I am not Polly, Betty dear! I
+only wish I were, for then we should at
+least know what had become of her. But
+Esther has asked me to spend Christmas
+with you and I hope you are half as glad
+to see me as I am to be with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Half an hour later, Esther having disappeared
+to see about dinner as Meg was
+also to remain for the night, the three old
+friends dropped down on sofa cushions
+before the fire, Camp Fire fashion, and with
+the tea pot between them began talking all
+at the same time.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do, do tell me everything about Woodford,”
+Betty demanded. “I never shall
+love any place half so well as my native
+town and I have not heard a word except
+through letters, for ages.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Ceasing her own questioning of Meg in
+regard to the pleasures of college life,
+Mollie at once turned her serious blue eyes
+upon her other friend. “Haven’t heard of
+Woodford, Betty!” she exclaimed, “what
+on earth do you mean? Then what <i>do
+you</i> and Anthony Graham talk about
+when he comes to Boston? I know he
+has been here twice lately, because he
+told me so himself and said you were
+well.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly in Esther’s pretty sitting room
+all conversation abruptly ended and only
+the ticking of the clock could be heard.
+Fortunately the room was still in shadow,
+for unexpectedly Meg’s cheeks had turned
+scarlet, as she glanced toward the window
+with a perfectly unnecessary expression of
+unconcern. But Betty did not change
+color nor did her gray eyes falter for an
+instant from those of her friend. Yet
+before she received her answer Mollie was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span>
+conscious that she must in some fashion
+have said the wrong thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet what could have been the fault with
+her question? It was a perfectly natural
+one, as Betty and Anthony had always
+been extremely intimate in the old days,
+ever since Anthony had lived for a year at
+Mrs. Ashton’s house. Mollie appreciated
+the change in the atmosphere, the coldness
+and restraint that had not been there
+before. Naturally she would have preferred
+to change the subject before receiving
+a reply, but she had not the quickness
+and adaptability of many girls, perhaps
+because she was too simple and sincere
+herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Anthony Graham does not come to see
+me—us, Mollie,” Betty corrected herself,
+“when he makes his visits to Boston these
+days. You see he is now Meg’s friend
+more than mine. But you must remember,
+Mollie dear, that Meg has always had
+more admirers than the rest of us and now
+she is a full-fledged college girl, of course
+she is irresistible.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty Ashton spoke without the least
+suggestion of anger or envy and yet Meg
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span>
+turned reproachfully toward her. Her
+usually gay and friendly expression had
+certainly changed, she seemed embarrassed
+and annoyed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know that isn’t true, Princess,
+and never has been,” Meg returned, rumpling
+her pretty yellow hair as she always
+did in any kind of perplexity or distress.
+“I never have even dreamed of being so
+charming as you are. You know that John
+has always said——”
+</p>
+<p>
+Alas, if only Polly O’Neill had been
+present Mollie might in some fashion have
+been persuaded not to speak at this unlucky
+instant! But Polly had always
+cruelly called her an “<i>enfant terrible</i>.”
+Now Mollie was too puzzled to appreciate
+the situation and so determined to get at
+the bottom of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But does Anthony come to see you and
+not Betty?” Mollie demanded inexorably
+of the embarrassed girl.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meg nodded. “Yes, but it is only
+because Betty——”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Please don’t try to offer any explanation,
+Meg, I would rather you would not.
+It is most unnecessary,” Betty now interrupted gently,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span>
+in a tone that few persons in
+her life had ever opposed. Then, reaching
+over, she began pouring out fresh cups
+of tea for her friends. “You need not
+worry, Mollie, Anthony and I are perfectly
+good friends. We have not quarreled, only
+he has not so much time these days now
+he is getting to be such a distinguished
+person. But do tell me whether you have
+the faintest idea of what Polly O’Neill is
+doing, or where she is, or a single solitary
+thing about her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Always Mollie’s attention could be distracted
+by any mention of her sister’s
+name and it may be that Betty was
+counting upon this. For Meg had gotten
+up and strolled over toward the window,
+leaving the two other girls comparatively
+alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+Bluer and more serious than ever grew
+Mollie’s big, innocent eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Polly is well, or at least says she is.
+That much mother confides in me,” Mollie
+replied soberly. “But where Polly is or
+what she is doing I have no more idea than
+you have, not so much perhaps. You were
+always better at understanding her than I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span>
+have ever been. But then even Miss
+Adams has never heard a line from Polly
+since she told her good-by in New York
+several months ago. By the way, Betty,
+Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt are going to be
+playing here in Boston during the holidays.
+Won’t you and Esther ask them to your
+Christmas dinner party?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty at this moment got up from the
+floor. “Yes, I have seen the notices of
+their coming and I am glad. We can have
+an almost home Christmas, can’t we?”
+Then she walked over toward the window
+where Meg had continued standing, gazing
+with no special interest out into the street.
+The high wind was still blowing and with it
+occasional flurries of wet snow.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do let us draw down the blinds, Meg,
+it is getting late and is not very cheerful
+outside.” With apparent unconsciousness
+Betty slipped an arm about her friend’s
+waist and for another instant they both
+stared out into the almost deserted street.
+</p>
+<p>
+Across on the farther sidewalk some one
+was standing, as though waiting for a
+companion. Meg had seen the person
+before but with no special attention.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span>
+She was too deeply engaged with her own
+thoughts. Betty was differently influenced,
+for the figure had an oddly pathetic and
+lonely attitude. She could not see the
+face and the moment she began closing
+the living-room curtain the figure walked
+away.
+</p>
+<p>
+Meg chose this same instant for giving
+her friend a sudden ardent embrace and
+Betty’s attention would in any case have
+been distracted.
+</p>
+<p>
+With the lights under the rose-colored
+shades now glowing, and Mollie asking no
+more embarrassing questions, the atmosphere
+of the living room soon grew cheerful
+again. For Mollie had a great deal of
+Woodford news to tell. Eleanor Meade
+was getting a beautiful trousseau for her
+marriage with Frank Wharton in the spring
+and she and Mollie had been sewing
+together almost every day. Eleanor had
+given up her old ambition to become a
+celebrated artist and was using her taste
+for color and design in the preparation of
+her clothes. Frank was in business with
+his father and would have a good deal of
+money, and although Eleanor’s family was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span>
+poor she did not intend to have less in her
+trousseau than other girls. Her own skill
+and work should make up for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Billy Webster was succeeding better
+each month with the management of his
+farm since his father’s death. Now and
+then Mollie went to call on Mrs. Webster
+and not long ago she and Billy had walked
+out to Sunrise cabin. The little house was
+in excellent condition, although no one had
+lived in it for several years.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is wonderfully kind,” Mollie explained,
+“but Billy has his own men look
+after our cabin and make any repairs that
+are necessary. He even keeps the grass
+cut and the weeds cleared from about the
+place, so any one of us could go out there
+to live with only a few hours preparation,”
+she ended with her usual happy smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Mollie O’Neill was not self-conscious
+and did not guess for a moment that while
+she talked both Betty and Meg were engaged
+with the same thought. Was there
+still nothing more between Mollie and
+Billy than simple friendliness? Once they
+had believed that there might be something,
+but now the time was passing and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span>
+they were both free, Mollie at home helping
+her mother with the house, Billy the
+head of his own farm, and yet nothing had
+happened. Well, possibly nothing ever
+would and they might always simply remain
+friends, until one or the other married some
+one else.
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly Mollie started and her color
+faded.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am awfully sorry, Betty, I know how
+silly and nervous you and Polly used
+always to think me, but look, please!” She
+spoke under her breath and pointed toward
+the closed blind.
+</p>
+<p>
+There, sharply defined, was the shadow
+of a head apparently straining to see
+inside the room. It had the effect of a
+gray silhouette.
+</p>
+<p>
+The two other girls also changed color,
+for the effect was uncanny. Then Betty
+laughed somewhat nervously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It must be Dick, of course, trying to
+frighten us, but how silly and unlike him!”
+She then walked as quickly and quietly
+toward the window as possible and without
+a sign or word of warning drew up the
+curtain. Some one must have instantly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span>
+jumped backward, for by the time Mollie
+and Meg had also reached the window
+they could only catch the outline of a disappearing
+figure. It was not possible in
+the darkness to decide whether it was a
+girl or a young boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, it wasn’t Dick anyhow,” said
+Betty finally; “probably some child. However
+it might be just as well to go and
+tell Dick and Esther. They would not
+enjoy a sneak thief carrying off their
+pretty wedding presents. And besides it
+is time for us to get ready for dinner and
+I haven’t yet had time to tell you about
+my new Camp Fire.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span><a name='ch9' id='ch9'></a>CHAPTER IX—Preparations</h2>
+<p>
+A few mornings afterwards a letter
+was handed to Betty Ashton at the
+breakfast table, bearing a type-written
+address. Carelessly opening it
+under the impression that it must be a
+printed circular she found three lines, also
+type-written, on a sheet of paper and with
+no signature. It read:
+</p>
+<p>
+“Show whatever kindness is possible to
+the little French girl, Angelique, at the
+hospital. Pardon her peculiarities and
+oblige a friend.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Without a comment Betty immediately
+passed the letter to Mollie O’Neill, who then
+gave it to Esther. Esther turned it over
+to Dr. Ashton, who frowned and straightway
+ceased eating his breakfast.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t like anonymous letters, Betty,
+even if they seem to be perfectly harmless
+and have the best intentions. Besides, who
+knows of your going to the hospital except
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span>
+our few intimate friends? I wonder if this
+queer child you have spoken of could be
+responsible for this letter herself. One
+never knows!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Rather irritably Betty shook her head.
+“What an absurd supposition, Dick. In
+the first place the child dislikes me so that
+she will scarcely speak to me while I am at
+the hospital. She seems to like Mollie
+a great deal better. Moreover, she is the
+only one of the group of girls I made friends
+with who still refuses to come into our
+Camp Fire. If she wished my friendship
+she might at least begin by being
+civil.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Always as in former days Esther was
+quick to interpose between any chance of a
+heated argument between Dick and his
+sister. Understanding this they both
+usually laughed at her efforts. For as long
+as they lived Dick would scold Betty when
+he believed her in the wrong, while she
+would protest and then follow his advice
+or discard it as seemed wisest.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But, Betty dear, don’t you consider
+that there is a possibility that this Angelique
+may have spoken to some relative or friend
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span>
+of your visits to the hospital, who has
+written you this letter in consequence. You
+see, they may think of you as very wealthy,”
+Esther now suggested.
+</p>
+<p>
+But before Betty could reply, Mollie
+O’Neill, who during the moment’s discussion
+had been thinking the question
+over quietly, turned her eyes on her
+friend.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have you any idea who has written
+you, Betty?” she queried.
+</p>
+<p>
+For no explainable reason Betty flushed.
+Then with entire honesty she answered,
+“Of course not.” Surely the idea that had
+come into her mind was too absurd to give
+serious consideration.
+</p>
+<p>
+“By the way, I wonder what I could be
+expected to do for Angelique?” Betty inquired
+the next instant, showing that her
+letter had not failed to make an impression,
+no matter if it were anonymous. “She
+has the best kind of care at the hospital;
+only she seems desperately unhappy over
+something and won’t tell any one what it is.
+I know, of course, that she is ill, but the
+matron tells me she is not suffering and the
+other girls seem quite different. They are
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span>
+as brave and gay as if there were nothing
+the matter. Cricket is the best sport I
+ever knew.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Ashton got up from the table, leaning
+over to kiss Esther good-by.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, don’t do anything rash, Lady
+Bountiful,” he protested to Betty. “Who
+knows but you may decide to adopt the
+little French girl before the day is over
+just because of a mysterious letter. I must
+confess I am extremely glad Judge Maynard’s
+will only permits you to spend your
+income or you would keep things lively for
+all of us. I’ve an idea that it must have
+been Anthony Graham who put Judge
+Maynard up to making that kind of will.
+He must have remembered how you insisted
+on thrusting your money upon him at your
+first meeting and wished to save you from
+other impostors.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dick was laughing and it was perfectly
+self-evident that he was only saying what
+he had to tease his sister. For surely the
+Princess’ generosities had been a joke
+among her family and friends ever since
+she was a little girl. And she was still in
+the habit of rescuing every forlorn person
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span>
+she saw, often with somewhat disastrous
+results to herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty jumped up quickly from her place
+at the table, her face suddenly grown white
+and her lips trembling.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I won’t have you say things like that
+to me, Dick,” she returned angrily.
+“Anthony Graham had nothing in the
+world to do with the money Judge Maynard
+gave me, he has told you a hundred times
+he had not. But just the same I won’t
+have you call him an impostor. Just
+because you don’t approve of me is no
+reason why you should——” But finding
+her voice no longer steady Betty started
+hastily for the door, only to feel her brother’s
+arms about her holding her so close she could
+not move while he stared closely at her
+downcast face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is the matter, Betty?” he asked
+quite seriously now. “It isn’t in the least
+like you to get into a temper over nothing.
+You know perfectly well that while all of
+us may reproach you for being so generous
+we would not have you different for anything
+in the world. As for my thinking
+Anthony Graham an impostor, the thing is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span>
+too absurd for any comment. You know
+he is my friend and one of the cleverest
+fellows in New Hampshire. Some day he
+will be a Senator at Washington, but I
+don’t think he’ll mind even then remembering
+who gave him his start. When he comes
+here at Christmas I mean to ask him and
+to tell him you thought it necessary to
+defend him against me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+But by this time Betty had managed to
+pull herself away from Dick’s clasp. “If
+you speak my name to him I shall never
+forgive you as long as I live,” she announced
+and this time managed to escape from the
+room.
+</p>
+<p>
+Utterly mystified Dick Ashton gazed at
+his wife.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What on earth!” he began helplessly.
+And Esther nodded at Mollie.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Won’t you find Betty?” she asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mollie had already risen, but she did not
+go at once in search of her friend, for
+although Mollie O’Neill may not have had
+as much imagination as certain other girls
+she had a sympathy that perhaps served
+even better.
+</p>
+<p>
+Out into the hall Esther followed her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span>
+husband, and after helping him into his
+overcoat she stood for an instant with her
+hand resting on his shoulder. In spite of
+the change in her circumstances and in
+spite of her own talent and Dick’s adoration
+there was never a day when Esther was not
+in her heart of hearts both humble and
+deeply puzzled by her husband’s ardent
+affection. Of course neither he nor Betty
+ever allowed her to disparage herself these
+days, but that had not changed the essential
+elements in Esther’s lovely nature.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dick, don’t try to understand,” she now
+said. “I don’t think we have exactly the
+right. Anthony and Betty were friends
+once, you know, and you were desperately
+afraid they might be something more.
+Well, I don’t think there is anything between
+them any longer; whether they have
+quarreled or not is exactly what I don’t
+know. Only if Betty should want to do any
+special thing for this little French girl, please
+don’t oppose her. It would be an interest
+for her and you know we don’t want her to
+spend her money on us. She will, you
+know, if she has any idea that there is
+anything either of us wish that we cannot
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span>
+afford to get. Already she says that she
+is determined to be an old maid so that her
+money can go to——”
+</p>
+<p>
+Esther blushed but could not have finished
+her speech as her husband’s kiss at this
+instant made it impossible.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dick turned to go, but came back almost
+immediately.
+</p>
+<p>
+“See here, Esther, I would not think
+of interfering with any sensible thing the
+Princess may wish to do with her money.
+I only can’t let her be reckless. But about
+Anthony Graham. If you think he has
+treated Betty badly or hurt her feelings, or
+goodness knows what, well I won’t stand it
+for a single little instant. He will have to
+hear what I think of him——”
+</p>
+<p>
+Positively Esther could feel herself turning
+pale with horror at her husband’s
+remark, but fortunately she had the good
+sense to laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Richard Ashton,” she said, “I am not
+often firm with you, but if you ever dare—Oh
+goodness, was there ever anything
+on earth quite so stupid as a man can
+be! No matter what may or may not
+have happened between Betty and Anthony
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span>
+there is nothing that you or I can do or
+say. You know we interfered as hard
+as we possibly could with Betty’s German
+lover. We must leave the poor child
+to manage some of her own affairs alone.
+Anthony seems to be devoting himself to
+Meg these days. But he will be in Boston
+at Christmas, so perhaps if it is only a
+quarrel that has come between them they
+may make it up. But how do you suppose
+I am ever going to be able to get
+through with all my Christmas church
+music and give a dinner party with Miss
+Adams and Mr. Hunt present and perhaps
+have Betty’s Camp Fire girls here for an
+afternoon? The child has some scheme or
+other of taking them for a drive so that
+they may be able to see the Christmas
+decorations and then bringing them home
+for a party.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If it is going to tire you, Esther, we
+will cut it all out,” was Dr. Ashton’s final
+protest as he disappeared to begin his
+morning’s work. Dick had been taken
+into partnership with an older physician
+and his office was several blocks away.
+</p>
+<p>
+At his departure Esther breathed a sigh
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span>
+of relief. At least by dwelling on her
+own difficulties she had taken his mind
+away from Betty’s odd mood. She did
+not understand her sister herself, but certainly
+she must be left alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+Late that afternoon when Betty and
+Mollie had been doing some Christmas
+shopping in Boston and were sitting side
+by side on the car, Betty whispered unexpectedly:
+</p>
+<p>
+“See here, Mollie, do you think by
+any chance it is possible that Polly O’Neill
+could have written me that letter about
+the little French girl? Yes, I realize the
+question sounds as though I had lost my
+mind, as Polly may be in South America
+for all I know. Besides, the child never
+heard of Polly until I mentioned her in
+talking of our old club. But somehow,
+for a reason I can’t even try to explain,
+I keep thinking of Polly these days as if
+there was something she wanted me to
+do and yet did not exactly know how to
+ask it of me. It used often to be like
+that, you know, Mollie, when we were
+younger. Polly and I could guess what
+was in the other’s mind. We often made
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span>
+a kind of game of it, just for fun. Anyhow
+you will have to try and see what
+is making that poor child so miserable,
+as she seems to like you better than she
+does me. Perhaps it is because you are
+so like Polly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Quietly Mollie nodded. Of course Betty
+was absurd in her supposition; yet, as
+always, she was perfectly willing to help
+in any practical way that either her erratic
+sister or Betty suggested.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span><a name='ch10' id='ch10'></a>CHAPTER X—More Puzzles</h2>
+<p>
+On Christmas eve Mollie and Betty
+each received notes written and
+signed by Polly herself, postmarked
+New York City, accompanying
+small gifts. Neither letter made any
+direct reference to what Polly herself was
+doing nor showed that she had any knowledge
+of what was interesting her sister
+or friend. Her information in regard to
+Mollie’s presence in Boston, she explained,
+had been received from her mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+Well, of course, it was good news to hear
+that at least Polly was alive and not altogether
+forgetful of her old affections, yet
+there was no other satisfaction in the communications
+from her. Indeed the two
+letters were much alike and on reading
+her own each girl felt much the same
+emotion. They were loving enough and
+almost gay, yet the love did not seem
+accompanied by any special faith to make
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span>
+it worth while, nor did the gayety sound
+altogether sincere.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty’s merely said:
+</p>
+<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 4em;'>
+“My Christmas thought is with you
+now and always, dear Princess. Trust me
+and love me if you can. You may not
+approve of what I am doing, but some
+day I shall try to explain it to you. I
+can’t ask you to write me unless you will
+send the letter to Mother and she will
+forward it. Do nothing rash, dear Princess,
+Betty, friend, while I am not near
+to look after you. Your always devoted
+Polly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With a little laugh that was not altogether
+a cheerful one, Betty also turned
+this letter over to Mollie. The two girls
+were in Betty’s bedroom with no one
+else present.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Like Polly, wasn’t it, to tell me not
+to do anything rash when she was not
+around to run things?” Betty said with
+a shrug of her shoulders and a little arching
+of her delicate brows.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mollie looked at her admiringly. Betty
+had not seemed altogether as she used to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span>
+be in the first few days after her arrival,
+but recently, with the coming of the holidays
+and the arrival of their old friends,
+she certainly was as pretty as ever. Now
+she had on an ancient blue silk dressing
+gown which was an especial favorite and
+her red-brown hair was loose over her
+shoulders. The two friends were resting
+after a strenuous day. In a few hours
+Esther was to give her first real dinner
+party and they had all been working
+together toward the great event.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But why should Polly warn you against
+rashness under any circumstances?” Mollie
+returned, after having glanced over the
+note. “You are not given to doing foolish
+things as she is. I suppose because
+Polly is so dreadfully rash herself she
+believes the same of other people.”
+</p>
+<p>
+There was no answer at first except
+that the Princess settled herself more
+deeply in her big Morris chair. Mollie
+was lying on the bed near by. Then she
+laughed again.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you need not be so sure of my
+good sense, Mavourneen, as Polly used to
+call you. I may not be rash in the same
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span>
+way that old Pollykins is, perhaps because
+I have not the same courage, yet I may
+not be so far away from it as you think.
+Only I wish Polly found my society as
+necessary to her happiness as hers is to
+mine. I simply dread the thought of a
+Christmas without her, and yet she is
+probably having a perfectly blissful time
+somewhere with never a thought of us.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Hearing a sudden knock at their door
+at this instant Mollie tumbled off the bed
+to answer it. Yet not before she had
+time to reply, “I am not so sure Polly is
+as happy as you think.” Then the little
+maid standing outside in the hall thrust
+into her arms four boxes of flowers.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nearly breathless with excitement Mollie
+immediately dropped them all into her
+friend’s lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+“See what a belle you are, Betty Ashton!”
+she exclaimed. “Here you are
+almost a stranger in Boston and yet being
+showered with attentions.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Gravely Betty read aloud the address
+on the first box.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Mollie O’Neill, care of Dr. Richard
+Ashton,” she announced, extending the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span>
+package to the other girl with a mock
+solemnity and then laughing to see Mollie’s
+sudden blush and change of expression.
+A moment later the second box, also inscribed
+with Mollie’s name, was presented
+her. But the final two were addressed to
+Betty, so that the division was equal.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was Mollie, however, who first untied
+the silver cord that bound the larger of
+her two boxes, and Betty was quite sure
+that the roses inside were no pinker or
+prettier than her friend’s cheeks.
+</p>
+<p>
+“They are from Billy,” Mollie said
+without any hesitation or pretense of anything
+but pleasure. “He says that he has
+sent a great many so that I may wear them
+tonight and tomorrow and then again tomorrow
+night to the dance, as I care for
+pink roses more than any flower. It was
+good of Meg to ask Billy to come over
+for her College holiday dance. I should
+have been dreadfully embarrassed with
+one of Meg’s strange Harvard friends for
+my escort. And Billy says he would have
+been abominably lonely in Woodford with
+all of us away.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mollie’s second gift was a bunch of red
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span>
+and white carnations, bearing Anthony
+Graham’s card. “How kind of Anthony
+to remember me,” she protested, “when he
+was never a special friend of mine. But of
+course he sent me the flowers because I
+happened to be yours and Esther’s guest
+and he is coming here to dinner tonight
+with Meg. But do please be less slow and
+let me see what you have received.”
+</p>
+<p>
+For almost reluctantly Betty Ashton
+seemed to be opening her gifts. Nevertheless
+she could not conceal a quick cry
+of admiration at what she saw first. The
+box was an oblong purple one tied with
+gold ribbon. But here at Christmastide, in
+the midst of Boston’s cold and dampness,
+lay a single great bunch of purple violets and
+another of lilies of the valley. Hurriedly
+Betty picked up the card that lay concealed
+beneath them. Just as Mollie’s
+had, it bore Anthony Graham’s name, and
+formal good wishes, but something else
+as well which to any one else would have
+appeared an absurdity. For it was a not
+very skilful drawing of a small ladder with
+a boy at the foot of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gracious, it must be true that John is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span>
+making a fortune in his broker shop in
+Wall Street, as Meg assures me!” Betty
+exclaimed gayly the next moment, thrusting
+her smaller box of flowers away, to peep
+into the largest of the four offerings. “I
+did not realize John had yet arrived in
+Boston, Meg was not sure he would be
+able to be with her for the holidays. It is
+kind of him, I am sure, to remember me,
+isn’t it Mollie? And there is not much
+danger of my being unable to wear John’s
+flowers with any frock I have, he has sent
+such a variety. I believe I’ll use the
+mignonette tonight, it is so fragrant and
+unconventional.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty spoke almost sentimentally and this
+state of mind was so unusual to her that for
+a moment Mollie only stared in silence.
+However, as her friend disappeared into the
+bathroom to begin her toilet for the evening
+Mollie remarked placidly, “The violets
+would look ever so much prettier with your
+blue dress.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Esther’s round mahogany table seated
+exactly twelve guests. On her right was
+Richard Hunt, the actor, with Anthony
+Graham on her left, next him was Meg,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span>
+then Billy Webster and Mollie O’Neill.
+To the right of Dr. Ashton, Margaret
+Adams had the place of honor, then came a
+Harvard law student who was a special
+admirer of Meg’s, then a new friend of
+Esther’s and then John Everett and Betty
+Ashton. As the entire arrangement of the
+company had been made through Betty’s
+suggestion, doubtless she must have chosen
+the companions at dinner that she most
+desired. Polly’s friend, Richard Hunt, sat
+on her other side with Meg and Anthony
+nearly opposite.
+</p>
+<p>
+There had been no lack of cordiality on
+Betty’s part toward any one of their visitors.
+On Anthony’s arrival with Meg
+Everett she had thanked him for his gift
+in her most charming manner, but had made
+no reference to the card which he had
+enclosed nor to the fact that she preferred
+wearing other flowers than his. Meg was
+looking unusually pretty tonight and very
+frankly Betty told her so. Her soft blond
+hair was parted on the side with a big loose
+coil at the back and a black velvet ribbon
+encircled her head. Professor Everett was
+not wealthy and Meg’s college education
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span>
+was costing him a good deal, therefore she
+had ordinarily only a moderate sum of
+money for buying her clothes and no special
+talent for making the best of them. However,
+this evening her dress had been a
+Christmas gift from her brother John and,
+as it was of soft white silk and lace, particularly
+becoming to Meg’s pretty blondness.
+Her blue eyes were shining with a
+kind of veiled light and her color came and
+went swiftly. She seemed just as ingenuous
+and impulsive as she had ever been, until
+it was difficult to know what must be the
+truth about her. Several times during
+the evening Esther told herself sternly
+that of course Meg had a perfect right to
+accept Anthony Graham’s attentions if she
+liked, for there had never been any definite
+understanding between him and her sister,
+and indeed that she had disapproved of
+him in the past. Yet now Anthony
+Graham, in spite of his origin, might have
+been considered a good match for almost
+any girl. He was a distinguished looking
+fellow, with his brilliant foreign coloring,
+his dark hair and high forehead. Esther
+recalled having once felt keenly sorry for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span>
+him because the other girls and young men
+in their group of friends had not considered
+him their social or intellectual equal. Now
+he was entirely self-possessed and sure of
+himself. Yet he did seem almost too grave
+for their happy Betty; possibly it was just
+as well he had transferred his interest to
+Meg. No one could ever succeed in making
+Meg Everett serious for any great length of
+time. She was still the same happy-go-lucky
+girl of their old Camp Fire days
+whom “a higher education” was not altering
+in the least. Yet the “higher education”
+may have given her subjects of
+conversation worthy of discussing with
+Anthony, for certainly they spent a great
+part of the time talking in low tones to each
+other.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty appeared in the gayest possible
+spirits and had never looked prettier.
+Richard Hunt seemed delighted with her,
+and John Everett had apparently returned
+to the state of admiration which he had
+always felt when they had been boy and
+girl together in Woodford. Indeed Betty
+did feel unusually animated and excited;
+she could hardly have known why except
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span>
+that she had spent a rather dull winter
+and that she was extremely excited at
+seeing her old friends again. And then she
+and Mr. Hunt had so much to say to each
+other on a subject that never failed to be
+interesting—Polly!
+</p>
+<p>
+Neither he nor Miss Adams had the
+faintest idea of what had become of that
+erratic young person, although Margaret
+Adams had also received a Christmas letter
+from her. But where she was or what she
+was doing, no one had the faintest idea.
+It was evident that Mr. Hunt highly disapproved
+of Polly’s proceedings, and although
+until the instant before Betty had
+felt exactly as he did, now she rallied at
+once to her friend’s defense.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Hunt, you must not think for an
+instant that Polly was ungrateful either to
+Miss Adams or to you for your many
+kindnesses, only she had to do things in
+her own Polly fashion, one that other people
+could not exactly understand. But if one
+had ever been fond of Polly,” Betty
+insisted, “you were apt to keep on caring
+for her for some reason or other which you
+could not exactly explain. Not that Polly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span>
+was as pretty or perhaps as sweet as
+Mollie.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Several times during the evening Betty
+had noticed that every now and then her
+companion had glanced with interest toward
+Mollie O’Neill. However, when he now
+agreed with her last statement; she was not
+sure whether his agreement emphasized
+the fact of Mollie’s superior prettiness, or
+that Polly was an unforgettable character.
+</p>
+<p>
+Without a doubt Esther’s and Dick’s
+first formal dinner party was a pronounced
+success. The food was excellent, the two
+maids, one of whom was hired for the
+occasion, served without a flaw. There
+was only one trifling occurrence that might
+have created a slight disturbance, and this
+situation fortunately Betty Ashton saw
+in time to save.
+</p>
+<p>
+She happened to be sitting at the side
+of the table that faced the windows. Earlier
+in the evening one of these windows had
+been opened in order to cool the room and
+the curtain left partly up. The wind was
+not particularly high and no one seemed to
+be inconvenienced. But most unexpectedly
+toward the close of the dinner a gale must
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span>
+have sprung up. Because there was a
+sudden, sharp noise at the window and
+without warning the blind rolled itself
+to the topmost ledge with startling abruptness,
+as if some one had pulled sharply at
+the cord and then let go.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then another noise immediately followed,
+not so startling but far more puzzling.
+The first racket had caused every member
+of the little company to start instinctively.
+Then at the same instant, before Richard
+Ashton, who chanced to be pouring a glass
+of water for Margaret Adams, could get
+up from his place, Betty turned to Richard
+Hunt. John Everett happened to be
+talking to his other neighbor at the moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Hunt,” Betty asked quickly,
+“won’t you please close that window for
+us? It is too cold to have it open and
+besides one does not altogether like the
+idea that outside persons might be able
+to look into the room.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Perhaps Richard Hunt was just a moment
+longer at the window in the performance
+of so simple a task than one
+might have expected, but no one observed
+it.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+As he took his place again and Betty
+thanked him she looked at him with a
+slight frown.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you see a ghost, Mr. Hunt?”
+she queried. “It is not a comfortable
+night even for a ghost to be prowling
+about. It is too lonely an occupation for
+Christmas eve.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Richard Hunt smiled at his companion
+in return. “Oh, I am always seeing ghosts,
+Miss Ashton,” he answered; “I suppose it
+is because I have an actor’s vivid imagination.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span><a name='ch11' id='ch11'></a>CHAPTER XI—A Christmas Song and Recognition</h2>
+<p>
+The entire number of guests who
+had been together at Esther’s and
+Dick Ashton’s Christmas-eve dinner,
+agreed to be at church the following
+morning in order to hear Esther sing.
+</p>
+<p>
+In spite of the fact that Boston is one
+of the most musical of American cities
+and Esther the most modest of persons,
+even in so short a time her beautiful
+voice had given her an enviable reputation.
+The papers in giving notice of the morning
+service had mentioned the fact that the
+solo would be given by Mrs. Richard
+Ashton. But church music must have
+been Esther’s real vocation, for no matter
+how large the congregation nor how difficult
+her song she never felt any of her
+old nervousness and embarrassment. For
+one thing she was partly hidden behind
+the choir screen, so she need not fear
+that critical eyes were upon her; she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span>
+could be alone with her music and something
+that was stronger and higher than
+herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+On Christmas morning Betty entered
+their pew with her brother Dick, Mollie
+O’Neill and Billy Webster. She was wearing
+a dark green broadcloth with a small
+black velvet toque on her red-brown hair
+and a new set of black fox furs that her
+brother and sister had given her that
+morning for a Christmas present. She
+was pale and a little tired from yesterday’s
+festivities, so that a single red rose
+which had come to her from some unknown
+source that morning, was the only really
+bright color about her except for the lights
+in her hair. Mollie was flushed and
+smiling with the interest in the new place
+and people and the companionship of tried
+friends.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty thought that Margaret Adams
+also seemed weary when she came in with
+Mr. Hunt a few moments later. She
+was glad that the great lady happened
+to be placed next her so that she might
+feel the thrill of her nearness. For genius
+is thrilling, no matter how simple and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span>
+unpretentious the man or woman who
+possesses it. Margaret Adams wore a
+wonderful long Russian sable coat and
+a small velvet hat and, just as naturally
+as if she had been another girl, slipped
+her hand into Betty’s and held it during
+the service.
+</p>
+<p>
+So that in spite of her best efforts Betty
+could not keep her attention from wandering
+now and then. She knew that Margaret
+Adams was almost equally as devoted to
+Polly O’Neill as she herself and wondered
+what she thought of their friend’s conduct.
+She wished that they might have the
+opportunity to talk the matter over before
+Miss Adams finished her stay in
+Boston. Then, though realizing her own
+bad manners, Betty could not help being
+a little curious over the friendship between
+Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt. They seemed
+to have known each other such a long,
+long time and to have acted together so
+many times. Of course Margaret Adams
+was several years older, but that scarcely
+mattered with so unusual a person.
+</p>
+<p>
+Moreover, there were other influences
+at work to keep Betty Ashton’s mind
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span>
+from being as firmly fixed upon the subject
+of the morning’s sermon as it should
+have been. For was she not conscious
+of the presence of Meg and John Everett
+and Anthony Graham in the pew just
+back of her? And though it did seem
+vain and self-conscious of her, she had
+the sensation that at least two pairs of
+eyes were frequently concentrated upon
+the back of her head or upon her profile
+should she chance to turn her face half
+way around.
+</p>
+<p>
+When the offertory was finally announced
+and Esther began the first lines of her
+solo, not only was her sister Betty’s attention
+caught and held, but that of almost
+every other human being in the church.
+It was not a beautiful Christmas day,
+outside there were scurrying gray clouds
+and a kind of bleak coldness. But the
+church was warmly and beautifully lighted,
+the altar white with lilies and crimson
+with roses, speaking of passion and peace.
+And Esther’s voice had in it something
+of almost celestial sweetness. She was no
+longer a girl but a woman, for Dick’s love
+and a promise of a fulfilment equally
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span>
+beautiful had added to her natural gift
+a deeper emotional power. And she sang
+one of the simplest and at the same time one
+of the most beautiful of Christmas hymns.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty was perfectly willing to allow all
+the unhappiness and disappointments of
+the past few months to relieve themselves
+in the tears that came unchecked. Then
+she saw Margaret Adams bite her lips and
+close her eyes as if she too were shutting
+out the world of ordinary vision to live
+only in beautiful sound and a higher
+communion.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;“Hark!&nbsp;the&nbsp;herald&nbsp;angels&nbsp;sing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Glory&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;new-born&nbsp;King;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Peace&nbsp;on&nbsp;earth,&nbsp;and&nbsp;mercy&nbsp;mild,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;God&nbsp;and&nbsp;sinners&nbsp;reconciled!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Joyful,&nbsp;all&nbsp;ye&nbsp;nations,&nbsp;rise,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Join&nbsp;the&nbsp;triumph&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;skies;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;With&nbsp;the&nbsp;angelic&nbsp;host&nbsp;proclaim,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Christ&nbsp;is&nbsp;born&nbsp;in&nbsp;Bethlehem.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hark!&nbsp;the&nbsp;herald&nbsp;angels&nbsp;sing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Glory&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;new-born&nbsp;King.<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;“Christ,&nbsp;by&nbsp;highest&nbsp;heaven&nbsp;adored;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Christ,&nbsp;the&nbsp;everlasting&nbsp;Lord;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Late&nbsp;in&nbsp;time&nbsp;behold&nbsp;Him&nbsp;come,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Offspring&nbsp;of&nbsp;a&nbsp;virgin’s&nbsp;womb.<br />
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Veil’d&nbsp;in&nbsp;flesh&nbsp;the&nbsp;Godhead&nbsp;see,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Hail,&nbsp;th’&nbsp;Incarnate&nbsp;Deity!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Pleased&nbsp;as&nbsp;man&nbsp;with&nbsp;man&nbsp;to&nbsp;dwell,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Jesus,&nbsp;our&nbsp;Emmanuel!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hark!&nbsp;the&nbsp;herald&nbsp;angels&nbsp;sing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Glory&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;new-born&nbsp;King.<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;“Hail,&nbsp;the&nbsp;heaven-born&nbsp;Prince&nbsp;of&nbsp;Peace!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Hail,&nbsp;the&nbsp;Sun&nbsp;of&nbsp;righteousness!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Light&nbsp;and&nbsp;life&nbsp;to&nbsp;all&nbsp;He&nbsp;brings,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Risen&nbsp;with&nbsp;healing&nbsp;in&nbsp;His&nbsp;wings.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Mild&nbsp;He&nbsp;lays&nbsp;His&nbsp;glory&nbsp;by,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Born&nbsp;that&nbsp;man&nbsp;no&nbsp;more&nbsp;may&nbsp;die;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Born&nbsp;to&nbsp;raise&nbsp;the&nbsp;sons&nbsp;of&nbsp;earth,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Born&nbsp;to&nbsp;give&nbsp;them&nbsp;second&nbsp;birth.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hark!&nbsp;the&nbsp;herald&nbsp;angels&nbsp;sing<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Glory&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;new-born&nbsp;King.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+At the close of the service, turning to
+leave the church, Betty Ashton felt a
+hand laid on her arm, and glancing up in
+surprise found Anthony Graham’s eyes
+gazing steadfastly into hers.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We are friends, are we not, Betty?
+You would not let any misunderstanding
+or any change in your life alter that?”
+he asked hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+For just an instant the girl hesitated,
+then answered simply and gracefully:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t think any one could be unfaithful
+to an old friendship on Christmas morning
+after hearing Esther sing. It was not
+in the least necessary, Anthony, for you to
+ask me such a question. You know I
+shall always wish you the best possible
+things.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Then, without allowing the young man to
+reply or to accompany her down the aisle,
+she hurried away to her other friends,
+and, slipping her arm firmly inside Mollie
+O’Neill’s, she never let go her clasp until
+they were safely out of church.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is no use, Meg, nothing matters,”
+Anthony Graham said a quarter of an hour
+later, when he and Margaret Everett were
+on their way home together, John having
+deserted them to join the other party.
+“The fact is, Betty does not care in the
+least one way or the other what I say or
+do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I wish you would let me tell her
+the truth,” Meg urged. “You see, Anthony,
+the Princess and I have always been such
+intimate friends and I have always admired
+her more than any of the other girls. I
+don’t wish her to misunderstand us. She
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span>
+may not be so brilliant as Polly, nor so
+clever as Sylvia or your sister Nan, but
+somehow Betty is—well, I suppose she is
+what a real Princess ought to be. That
+is what Polly always declared. It is not
+just because she is pretty and generous, but
+she is so high-minded. Nothing would
+make <i>her</i> even appear to take advantage of
+a friend.” And Meg sighed, her usually
+happy face clouding.
+</p>
+<p>
+In silence, then, the girl and young man
+walked on for a few moments when Anthony
+replied: “You must do as you like, of
+course, Meg. I have no right to ask you
+anything else. But this understanding
+between us means everything in the world
+to me and it was your own offer in the
+beginning.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Meg nodded. “Yes, I know; but truly I
+don’t think as much of my idea as I did
+at first. Still I am willing to keep quiet
+for a while longer if you wish it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+At this moment there was no further
+opportunity for intimate conversation, for
+Meg’s Harvard friend, Ralph Brown, made
+his appearance with a five-pound box of
+candy, elaborately tied with red ribbon,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span>
+under his arm, and an expression on his
+face that suggested politely but firmly that
+Anthony Graham retire for the present,
+leaving the field to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of their friends in Boston only Margaret
+Adams and Richard Hunt had been invited
+by Esther and Dr. Ashton to have an
+informal Christmas dinner with them. For
+the dinner party the evening before had
+been such a domestic strain upon the
+little household that they wished to spend
+the following day quietly. But it was
+impossible to think of Margaret Adams
+dining alone in a great hotel, and she would
+certainly accept no invitation from her
+wealthier and more fashionable acquaintances
+in Boston. Moreover, Betty hoped
+that in the afternoon there might be a
+chance to talk of Polly. At the beginning
+no one had dreamed of including Richard
+Hunt in the invitation, as he was a comparative
+stranger; but Dick, having taken
+a sudden fancy to him, had calmly suggested
+his returning for Christmas day without
+due consultation with his family.
+</p>
+<p>
+Five minutes after starting for home
+with Dick and Esther, Mollie, Betty and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span>
+Miss Adams, Mr. Hunt, with a murmured
+excuse which no one understood, asked to
+be excused from going further. He would
+join the party later if possible, but should
+he chance to be delayed dinner must on no
+account be kept waiting for him.
+</p>
+<p>
+His conduct did seem rather extraordinary,
+and although Dick and Esther betrayed
+no surprise, it was plain enough that
+Margaret Adams felt annoyed. She had
+introduced Mr. Hunt to her friends and so
+naturally felt responsible for his conduct.
+</p>
+<p>
+Though the man was aware of his
+apparent eccentricity and though his manners
+were usually nearly perfect, he now
+deliberately turned away from the little
+company. And in spite of his half-hearted
+suggestion of re-joining them he had little
+idea at present of when he would return.
+Deliberately he retraced his steps to the
+church which he had quitted only a few
+moments before.
+</p>
+<p>
+Already the place was nearly deserted.
+On the sidewalk the clergyman was saying
+farewell to a few final members of his
+congregation, while inside the sexton was
+closing the doors of the two side aisles,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span>
+although the large door in the center still
+remained open. Hurriedly Mr. Hunt entered.
+And there, just as he had hoped to
+find her, was the figure of a girl sitting in a
+rather dejected attitude in one of the last
+pews. She had on a dark dress and a heavy
+long coat and about her head a thick veil
+was tied.
+</p>
+<p>
+Before he could reach her she had risen
+and was starting away.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wait here for a moment, Miss O’Neill;
+we can find no other spot so quiet in which
+to have a talk,” the man said sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then as Polly flashed an indignant glance
+at him, attempting to pass as though she
+had neither seen nor recognized him, he
+added:
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know I have no right to intrude upon
+you, but unless you are willing to give me
+some explanation of why you are here and
+what you are doing, I shall tell the friends
+who are nearer to you than I am of my
+having seen you not only this morning,
+but last night as well.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, please <i>don’t</i>!” Polly’s voice was
+trembling. “Really, truly, I am not doing
+anything wrong in staying here in Boston
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span>
+and not letting people hear. My mother
+knows where I am and what I am doing and
+of course I am not alone. Yes, it was
+utterly silly and reckless of me to have
+peeped in at Esther’s dining-room window
+last night, but I was so dreadfully lonely
+and wanted to see everybody so much.
+How could I have dreamed that that
+wretched curtain would go banging away
+up in the air as it did? But anyhow, Mr.
+Hunt, I shall always be everlastingly grateful
+to you for not telling on me last night.
+I did not suppose you saw me and certainly
+never imagined you could have recognized
+me when I crouched down in the
+shadow.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Unexpectedly Polly O’Neill laughed.
+“What a perfect idiot I should have looked
+if you had dragged me in before the dinner
+party like a spy or a thief or a beggar! I
+can just imagine Esther’s and Mollie’s
+expressions.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, but all this is not quite to the
+point, Miss Polly,” Richard Hunt continued,
+speaking however in a more friendly
+tone. “Am I to tell Margaret Adams and
+Betty Ashton that I have discovered you,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span>
+or will you take me into your secret and
+let me decide what is best to be done
+afterwards?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you have not the right to do either
+the one thing nor the other,” the girl
+argued, lifting her veil for an instant in
+order to see if there was any sign of relenting
+in the face of her older friend.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was not the slightest. And Polly
+recognized that for once in her life she was
+beaten.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t say anything today then, please,”
+she urged, looking into her pocketbook and
+finding there a card with a name and address
+written upon it. “But come to see me
+tomorrow if you like. And don’t think
+that I am ungrateful or—or horrid,” she
+ended abruptly, rushing away so swiftly
+that it would have been impossible for any
+one to have followed her without creating
+attention.
+</p>
+<p>
+Rather grimly Richard Hunt gazed at the
+card he held in his hand. It bore a name
+that was not Polly O’Neill’s and the address
+of a quiet street in Boston. What on the
+face of the earth could she be doing? It
+was impossible to guess, and yet it was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span>
+certainly nothing very unwise if her mother
+knew and approved of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Whether or not he had the right to find
+out, Richard Hunt had positively decided
+to take advantage of his recognition of
+Polly O’Neill and insist upon her confidence.
+He could not have explained even to himself
+why he was so determined on this
+course of action. However, it was true, as
+her friend Betty Ashton had insisted the
+night before, whether or not you happened
+to feel a liking for Polly, you were not apt
+to forget her.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the past few months it was curious how
+often he had found himself wondering what
+had become of the girl. He recalled her
+having run away several years before to
+make her first stage appearance and then
+their meeting in Margaret Adams’ drawing
+room in London later on. Well, perhaps
+curiosity was not alone a feminine trait
+of character, for Richard Hunt felt convinced
+he would be more at peace with
+himself and the world when he had learned
+Polly’s story from her own lips.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span><a name='ch12' id='ch12'></a>CHAPTER XII—After Her Fashion Polly Explains</h2>
+<p>
+The next afternoon a dark-haired
+woman a little past thirty came
+into the boarding house sitting
+room to see Richard Hunt before Polly
+made her appearance.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am Mrs. Martins, Miss O’Neill’s
+chaperon,” she explained. “Or if I am
+not exactly her chaperon at least we are
+together and I am trying to see that no
+harm befalls her. No, she is not calling
+herself by her own name, but she will prefer
+to give you her own reason for that.
+I have met her mother several times, so
+that of course I understand the situation.”
+Mrs. Martins was a woman of refinement
+and of some education and her pronunciation
+of her own name showed her to be of
+French origin.
+</p>
+<p>
+Already the situation was slightly less
+mystifying. Yet there was still a great
+deal for Polly to make clear if she chose to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span>
+do so. However, it was curious that she
+was taking so long a time to join them.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Martins continued to talk about
+nothing in particular, so it was evident that
+<i>she</i> intended making no betrayals. Now
+and then she even glanced toward the door
+in some embarrassment, as though puzzled
+and annoyed by her companion’s delay.
+And while Richard Hunt was answering
+her politely if vaguely, actually he was on
+the point of deciding that Polly did not
+intend coming down stairs at all. Well
+perhaps it would serve him right, for what
+authority did he have for forcing the
+girl’s confession? And she was certainly
+quite capable of punishing him by placing
+him in an absurd situation.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nevertheless nothing was farther from
+Polly O’Neill’s intention at the present
+moment. She was merely standing before
+her mirror in her tiny upstairs bedroom
+trying to summon sufficient courage to
+meet her guest and tell her story.
+</p>
+<p>
+Once or twice she had started for the
+door only to return and stare at herself
+with intense disapproval. She had rubbed
+her cheeks with a crash towel until at
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span>
+least they were crimson enough, although
+the color was not very satisfying, and she
+had arranged her hair three times, only to
+decide at the last that she had best have
+left it alone at first.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now she made a little grimace at her
+own image, smiling at almost the same
+instant.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My beloved Princess or Mollie, I do
+wish you could lend me your good looks
+for the next half hour,” she murmured half
+aloud. “It is so much easier to be eloquent
+and convincing in this world when one
+happens to be pretty. But I, well certainly
+I would serve as a perfect illustration
+of ‘a rag and a bone and a hank of hair’
+at this moment if at no other.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly glanced down at her costume with
+more satisfaction than she had found in
+surveying her face. It was not in the
+least shabby, but a very charming dress
+which her mother had sent as a part of her
+Christmas box. The dress was of dark
+red <i>crepe de Chine</i> with a velvet girdle and
+collar of the same shade. And although
+under ordinary circumstances it might have
+been becoming, today Polly was not wrong
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span>
+in believing that she was not looking even
+her poor best. She was tired and nervous.
+Of course it did not matter so very much
+what Mr. Hunt might think of the story
+she had to tell him, but later on there
+would be many other persons whom she
+would have to persuade to accept her
+point of view. And somehow she felt that
+if she failed to convince her first listener
+she must fail with the others.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then unexpectedly, before hearing the
+sound of her approach, Richard Hunt discovered
+a cold hand being extended to
+shake his, and in a voice even more chilling
+Polly O’Neill was apologizing for having
+kept him waiting. Yet on the way down
+the steps had she not positively made up
+her mind to be so cordial and agreeable
+that her visitor should forget her other
+deficiencies?
+</p>
+<p>
+With a feeling of amazement mixed with
+despair Polly seated herself in the darkest
+corner of a small sofa next Mrs. Martins,
+deciding that it was quite useless, that she
+should attempt no explanation. Mr. Hunt
+and her companion could talk together
+about the weather if they chose, for she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span>
+could not think of a single word to say.
+Afterwards her visitor could go away and
+give any account of her he wished, although
+naturally this might frustrate all her hopes
+and ambitions and make her dearest friends
+angry with her for life. Yet if one were
+always to suffer from stage fright at all
+the critical moments of one’s career what
+else could be expected?
+</p>
+<p>
+At this moment Mrs. Martins excused
+herself and left the room. Polly saw her
+go with a characteristic shrug of her
+shoulders and an odd glance at her visitor.
+The moment had come. Mr. Hunt would
+discover that she had not even the grace
+to keep her promise, and heaven alone
+knew what he would soon think of her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet after saying good-by to her companion
+he continued talking in the kindest
+possible fashion, telling her news of Esther
+and Dick Ashton, saying how much he
+admired Betty and Mollie.
+</p>
+<p>
+Indeed in less than five minutes Polly
+had actually managed to forget the reason
+for her visitor’s call and was asking him
+questions about her old friends, faster than
+they could be answered.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Was their play, <i>A Woman’s Wit</i>, still
+as great a success as it had been at the
+start? Was Margaret Adams well or had
+the winter’s work used her up? Did
+Betty Ashton seem to have any special
+admirer in Boston?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Actually in a brief quarter of an hour
+Polly’s eyes were shining and her lips
+smiling. Curled up comfortably on her
+sofa she suddenly appreciated that she was
+having the most agreeable time she had
+enjoyed in months. Then again her expression
+changed and her brief radiance
+vanished. Yet this time her companion
+understood.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Polly,” he said quickly, “please
+don’t feel that after what happened yesterday
+I still mean to force you to make a
+confidant of me. The truth is I did want
+very much to hear that all was well with
+you and that you were not making any
+kind of mistake. I am not going to be a
+coward, so I confess that I came here today
+expecting to force your secret from you
+simply because I had an advantage over
+you. But, of course, now that we have
+been talking together I can see that you are
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span>
+all right, even if you do look rather tired
+and none too cheerful. So I want to
+apologize and then I shall go away and not
+worry you again. Also you may feel
+entirely assured that I shall not mention
+having seen you to any one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The man had risen from his chair, but
+before he could move a step forward, Polly
+had clasped her hands together and was
+gazing at him imploringly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, please, Mr. Hunt, don’t go,” she
+begged. “All of a sudden I have begun
+to feel that if I don’t tell some one my
+secret and ask you to approve of me or
+at least to try to forgive me for what I am
+doing I shall perish.” Actually Polly
+would now have pushed her visitor back
+into his chair if he had not sat down again
+so promptly as to make it unnecessary.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are sure you wish to confide in
+me, Miss Polly? Of course you understand
+that I will tell no one. But if your
+mother knows and approves of you, why
+surely no other person is necessary,” he
+argued.
+</p>
+<p>
+In reply the girl laughed. “Mother is
+an angel and for that reason perhaps she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span>
+does not always approve or understand
+me exactly. In this case she is just permitting
+me to have my own way because
+she promised to let me try and do what
+I could to become a successful actress and
+she never goes back on her word. Of
+course my method seems queer to her and
+probably will to you. But after all it is
+the way I see things and one can’t look
+out of any one’s eyes but one’s own.
+Surely you believe that, Mr. Hunt?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course any one who really understood
+Polly O’Neill, Betty Ashton for
+instance, would have understood at once
+that she was now beginning to explain her
+own wilfulness. Yet her question did
+sound convincing, for assuredly one can
+have no other vision than one’s own.
+</p>
+<p>
+Richard Hunt nodded sympathetically,
+although Polly was looking so absurdly
+young and so desperately in earnest that
+he would have preferred to smile.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was leaning forward with her chin
+resting on her hand and gazing intently
+at him. What she saw was a man who
+seemed almost middle-aged to her. And
+yet to the girl he seemed almost ideally
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span>
+handsome. His features were strong and
+well-cut, the nose aquiline, the mouth
+large and firm. And he was wearing the
+kindest possible expression. For half an
+instant Polly’s thoughts flew away from
+herself. Surely if any one in the world
+could be worthy of Margaret Adams it
+was Richard Hunt. Then she settled down
+to the telling of her own story.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know of course, Mr. Hunt, without
+my having to say anything more about
+it, that ever since I was a little girl I have
+dreamed and hoped and prayed of some
+day becoming a great actress. Mother
+says that there was some one in my family
+once, one of my Irish aunts, I believe, who
+ran away from home in order to go on
+the stage and was never recognized again.
+I have thought sometimes that perhaps I
+inherited her ambition. One never knows
+about things like that, life is so queer.
+Anyhow when a dozen girls in Woodford
+formed a Camp Fire and we lived together
+in the woods for over a year working and
+playing, mother and Betty and my sister
+expected me to get over my foolish ideas
+and learn something through our club that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span>
+might make me adopt a more sensible
+career. I don’t mean to be rude to you,
+Mr. Hunt,” Polly was profoundly serious,
+there was now no hint of amusement in
+her dark blue eyes or in her mobile face,
+“you understand I am only telling you
+what my family and friends thought about
+people who were actors—not what I think.
+I don’t see why acting isn’t just as great
+and useful as the other arts if one is conscientious
+and has real talent. But the
+trouble with me has been all along that
+I haven’t any real talent. I suppose if I
+had been a genius from the first no one
+would have cared to oppose me. Well the
+Camp Fire did not influence me against
+what I wanted to do; it only made me
+feel more in earnest than I had ever been
+before. For we girls learned such a lot
+about courage and perseverance and being
+happy even if things were not going just
+the way one liked, that it has all been a
+great help to me recently, more than at
+any time in my life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Richard Hunt nodded gravely. “I see,”
+he said quietly, although in point of fact
+he did not yet understand in the least what
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span>
+Polly was trying to explain, nor why she
+should review so much of her past life
+before coming to her point. He was curiously
+interested, although ordinarily he
+might have been bored by such a disjointed
+story.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly was too intense at the moment to
+have bored anyone. There she sat in her
+red dress against the darker background of
+the sofa with her figure almost in shadow
+and the light falling only upon her odd,
+eager face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I ran away from Miss Adams and from
+you, not because I was such a coward that
+I meant to give up the thing I was trying
+for, but because I knew that I must have a
+harder time if I was ever to amount to
+anything. You see people were trying to
+make things so easy for me and in a way
+they were making them more difficult.
+Margaret gave me that place in her company
+when I did not deserve it; you tried
+to show me how to act when I could not
+learn; my friends were complimenting me
+when all the time they must have known I
+was a failure. I couldn’t bear it, Mr.
+Hunt; really I could not. I am lots of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span>
+horrid things, but I am not a fraud. Then
+Margaret told me what a difficult time she
+had at the beginning of her career and how
+no one had helped her. Of course she
+meant to make me feel that I might be
+more successful because of my friends’ aid,
+but I did not see things just that way. Oh,
+I do hope you had to work dreadfully hard
+at the beginning of your profession and
+had lots of failures,” Polly concluded so
+unexpectedly and so solemnly that this
+time Richard Hunt could not refrain from
+laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh no, it wasn’t all plain sailing for me
+either, Miss Polly, and it isn’t now for that
+matter, if it is of any help to you to know
+it,” he added, realizing that his companion
+was absolutely unconscious of having said
+anything amusing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Before I gave up trying to act Belinda
+I got a small position in a cheap stock company.”
+Polly had at last reached the
+point of her story. “The company has
+been traveling through New England all
+winter and is still on the road. We only
+happened to be in Boston during the
+holidays. I have been playing almost any
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span>
+kind of part, sometimes I am a maid, sometimes
+a lady-in-waiting to the queen; once
+or twice, when the star has been ill, I have
+had to take the character of the heroine.
+Of course all this must sound very silly and
+commonplace to you, Mr. Hunt, but honestly
+I am learning a few things: not to be
+so self-conscious for one thing and to work
+very, very hard.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Too hard, Miss Polly, I am afraid,”
+Richard Hunt replied, looking closely at
+his companion and feeling oddly moved by
+her confession. Perhaps the girl’s effort
+would amount to nothing and perhaps she
+was unwise in having made it, nevertheless
+one could not but feel sorry that her friends
+had suspected her of ingratitude and lack
+of affection and that she was engaged in
+some kind of foolish escapade. Richard
+Hunt felt extremely guilty himself at the
+moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh no, I am not working too hard or
+at least not too hard for my health,”
+Polly argued. “You see both my mother
+and Sylvia are looking after me. Sylvia
+made me promise her once, when I did not
+understand what she meant, that I would
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span>
+let her know what I was doing all this
+winter. So I have kept my promise and
+every once and a while good old Sylvia
+travels to where I happen to be staying
+and looks me over and gives me pills and
+things.” Polly smiled. “You don’t know
+who Sylvia is and it is rather absurd of
+me to talk to you so intimately about my
+family. Sylvia is my step-sister, but she
+used to be merely my friend when we were
+girls. She is younger than I am but a
+thousand times cleverer and is studying to
+be a physician. She has not much respect
+for my judgment but she is rather fond of
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And your chaperon?” Perhaps Mr.
+Hunt realized that he was asking a good
+many questions when he and Polly O’Neill
+were still comparative strangers; yet he
+was too much concerned for her welfare
+at present to care.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly did not seem to be either surprised
+or offended by his questioning, but pleased
+to have some one in whom she might
+confide.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, just at first mother sent one of her
+old friends about everywhere with me.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span>
+But when she got tired we found this Mrs.
+Martins who was having a hard time in
+New York and needed something to do.
+She is really awfully nice and is teaching
+me French in our spare moments. She
+used to be a dressmaker, I believe, but
+could not get enough work to do.” Suddenly
+Polly straightened up and put out
+her hand this time in an exceedingly
+friendly fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Goodness, Mr. Hunt, what a dreadfully
+long time I have been keeping you here
+and how good you have been to listen to
+me so patiently!” she exclaimed. “You will
+keep my secret for me, won’t you? This
+winter I don’t want my friends to know
+what I am trying to do or to come to see me
+act. I have not improved enough so far.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Still holding Polly’s hand in a friendly
+clasp, her visitor rose.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you will let me come, won’t you?”
+he urged. “You see I am in your secret
+now and so I am different from other
+people. Besides I am very grateful to you
+for your faith in me and I don’t like to
+remember now that I first tried bullying
+you into confiding in me.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly’s answering sigh was one of relief.
+“I don’t seem to mind even that, although
+I was angry and frightened at first,” she
+returned. “I don’t usually enjoy doing
+what people make me do. But if you
+think you really would like to come to see
+me play, perhaps I should be rather glad.
+Only you must promise not to let me
+know when you are there, nor what you
+think of my acting afterwards.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span><a name='ch13' id='ch13'></a>CHAPTER XIII—A Place of Memories</h2>
+<p>
+“I wonder, Angel, if you had ever
+heard of my friend, Polly O’Neill,
+before I mentioned her name to
+you?” Betty Ashton asked after a few
+moments of silence between the two girls,
+when evidently Betty had been puzzling
+over this same question.
+</p>
+<p>
+Angel shook her head. “Never,” she
+returned quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Five months had passed since their first
+meeting and now the scene about them
+was a very different one from the four
+bare walls of a hospital, and the little
+French girl was almost as completely
+changed.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was early spring in the New Hampshire
+hills and the child and young woman
+were seated outside a cabin of logs with
+their eyes resting sometimes on a small
+lake before them, again on a dark group of
+pine trees, but more often on a sun-tipped
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span>
+hill ahead where the meadows seemed to
+lie down in green homage at her feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+Everywhere there were signs of the
+earth’s eternal re-birth and re-building.
+The grain showed only a tiny hint of its
+autumn harvest of gold, but the grass,
+the flowers, the new leaves on the bushes
+and trees were at their gayest and loveliest.
+Notwithstanding there was a breeze cool
+enough to make warm clothes a necessity,
+and Betty wore a long dark blue cloth
+cloak, while her companion, who was lying
+at full length in a steamer chair, was covered
+with a heavy rug. Yet the girl’s
+delicate white hands were busily engaged
+in weaving long strands of bright-colored
+straws together.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why did you think I had ever heard of
+your friend, Princess?” she queried after a
+short pause.
+</p>
+<div><a name='i151' id='i151'></a></div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span></div>
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i004' id='i004'></a>
+<img src='images/illus-151.jpg' alt='“Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?”' title=''/><br />
+<span class='caption'>“Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?”</span>
+</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span></div>
+<p>
+Keeping her finger in a volume of Tennyson’s
+poems which she had been supposed
+to be reading, the older girl gazed thoughtfully
+and yet almost unseeingly into the
+dark eyes of her companion. “I don’t
+know exactly,” she replied thoughtfully,
+“only for some strange reason since our
+earliest acquaintance you have always made
+me think of Polly. You don’t look like
+her, of course, though there is just a suggestion
+in your expression now and then.
+Perhaps because you were so interested in
+her when I began telling of our Sunrise
+Hill Camp Fire girls. I don’t believe you
+would ever have been able to endure me
+you know, Angel dear, if you had not
+liked hearing me talk of Polly; then think
+of what good times we should both have
+missed!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Across the little French girl’s face a
+warm flush spread.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is like you to say ‘we’ should have
+missed,” she replied softly. “But I never
+hated you, you were always mistaken in
+believing that. From the morning you
+first came to the hospital and ever afterwards
+I thought you the prettiest person
+I had ever seen in my life and one of the
+sweetest. It was only that in those early
+days I was too miserable to speak to any
+one. Always I was afraid I should break
+down if I tried to talk, so when the other
+girls attempted being nice to me I pretended
+I was sullen and hateful when in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span>
+reality I was a coward. It was just the
+same when you started the ‘Shut-In Camp
+Fire’ among the girls. I would not join, I
+would not take the slightest interest in the
+beginning for much the same reason. But
+you were always so patient and agreeable
+to me and so was Miss Mollie. Then there
+was always Cricket!” Smiling, she paused
+for a moment listening.
+</p>
+<p>
+Inside Sunrise cabin both girls could
+hear the noise of several persons moving
+about as though deeply engaged in some
+important business.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose I ought to go in and help,”
+Betty remarked in a slightly conscience-smitten
+tone, “but Mollie does so enjoy
+fussing about getting things ready. And
+in spite of all my efforts and stern Camp
+Fire training I shall never be so good a
+cook as she is. Besides, both Mollie and
+Cricket informed me politely, after I finished
+cleaning our rooms and had set the
+luncheon table, that I was somewhat in
+the way. I suppose I had best go in,
+though. Is there anything I can do for
+you first, Angel? Cricket is beating that
+cake batter so hard it sounds like a drum.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty had half risen from her chair
+when the expression in her companion’s
+face made her sit down again. “What
+is it?” she asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+For a moment the other girl’s fingers
+ceased their busy weaving. “You have
+never asked me anything about myself,
+Princess, in spite of all the wonderful
+things you have done for me,” she began.
+“I don’t want to bore you, but I should
+like——”
+</p>
+<p>
+With a low laugh Betty suddenly hunched
+her chair forward until it was close up
+against the larger one.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And I, I am perfectly dying to hear,
+you must know, you dear little goose,
+to talk about boring me! Don’t you
+know I am one of the most curious members
+of my curious sex? I have not asked
+you questions because I did not feel I
+had the right unless you wished to tell.
+But possibly I asked that question about
+Polly O’Neill just to give you a chance.
+Really I don’t know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In spite of this small confession, not
+for worlds would Betty Ashton have allowed
+the sensitive little French girl to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span>
+have learned another reason for her questioning.
+It was odd and certainly unreasonable,
+yet in all her recent kindness and
+care of Angelique she had continued to
+feel that in some mysterious fashion her
+friend, Polly O’Neill, was encouraging and
+aiding her. There was some one at work,
+assuredly, though she had no shadow of
+right in believing it to be Polly. For
+though she had confided in no one, the
+first anonymous letter in regard to the
+ill girl had not been the last one. In
+truth there must have been half a dozen
+in all, postmarked at different places and
+all of them unsigned and yet showing
+a remarkably intimate knowledge of the
+growing friendship between the two girls.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first step had been natural and
+simple enough. For with her usual enthusiasm
+after her visit to the hospital
+Betty had immediately set about forming
+a Camp Fire. She had sent for all the
+literature she could find on the subject,
+the club manual and songs. Then she
+and Mollie, during her visit, and sometimes
+Meg, had taught the new club members
+as much as possible of what they had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span>
+themselves learned during the old days at
+Sunrise Hill.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the first few meetings of the club
+in the great, sunny hospital room there
+was one solitary girl who would not show
+the least interest in the new and delightful
+proceedings. Indeed she kept on
+with her stupid gazing up toward the
+ceiling as if she were both deaf and
+blind.
+</p>
+<p>
+However, one day when she believed
+no one looking and while the other girls
+were talking of their future aims and
+ambitions and of the ways in which their
+new club might help them, unexpectedly
+Betty Ashton had caught sight of Angelique,
+with her dark eyes fixed almost
+despairingly upon her.
+</p>
+<p>
+The other girls were all busy, some of
+them sewing on their new ceremonial
+Camp Fire costumes of khaki, others making
+bead bands or working at basket
+weaving. In the meanwhile they were
+talking of Camp Fire honors to be won
+in the future and of the new names which
+they might hope to attain.
+</p>
+<p>
+Therefore, almost unnoticed by any one
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span>
+else, Betty was able to cross over to the
+side of the French girl’s bed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was wondering if I could not also
+do some of that pretty work with my
+hands,” the girl began at once, speaking
+as composedly as if she had been talking
+to Betty every day since their first meeting,
+although this was only the second
+time that she had ever voluntarily addressed
+a word to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Without commenting or appearing surprised,
+Betty brought over to her bedside
+a quantity of bright straw and straightaway
+commenced showing the girl the first
+principles of the art of basket-weaving
+which she had learned in the Sunrise Camp
+Fire. Very little instruction was necessary;
+for, before the first lesson was over,
+the pupil had learned almost as much as
+her teacher. Indeed the French girl’s
+skill with her hands was an amazement
+to everybody. With her third effort and
+without assistance, Angel manufactured so
+charming a basket that Betty bore it home
+in triumph to show to her brother and
+sister. Then quite by accident the basket
+was left in Esther’s sitting room, where
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span>
+a visitor, seeing it and hearing the story
+of its weaving, asked permission to purchase
+it.
+</p>
+<p>
+After some discussion, and fearful of
+how the girl might receive the offer, Betty
+finally summoned courage to tell Angelique.
+Thus unexpectedly Betty came upon one
+of the secrets of her new friend’s nature.
+Angel had an inordinate, a passionate
+desire for making money. She was older
+than any one had imagined her, between
+fourteen and fifteen. Now her hands
+were no longer clenched on her coverlid
+nor did her eyes turn resolutely to gaze
+at nothingness. Propped up on her pillows,
+her white fingers were ever busy at
+dozens of tasks. Betty had found a place
+in Boston where her baskets were sold
+almost as fast as she could make them.
+Then Angelique knew quite amazing things
+about sewing, so that Esther sent her
+several tiny white frocks to be delicately
+embroidered, and always the other girls
+at the hospital were asking her aid and
+advice.
+</p>
+<p>
+Quite astonishing the doctors considered
+the girl’s rapid improvement. Perhaps no
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span>
+one had told them the secret, for she now
+had an interest in life and a chance not
+to be always useless. Was it curious that
+she no longer disliked Betty Ashton and
+that she soon became the leading spirit
+in the new Camp Fire?
+</p>
+<p>
+Afterwards the Wohelo candles were
+placed on a small table near Angel’s bed
+while the girls formed their group about
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then one day in early April the Princess
+had whispered something in Angel’s
+ear. It was only a hope or at best a plan,
+yet, after all, Betty Ashton was a kind
+of fairy godmother to whom all impossible
+things were possible.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Sunrise cabin was undoubtedly open
+once again with four girls as its occupants—Betty
+Ashton and Mollie O’Neill, Cricket
+and “The Angel.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am afraid you won’t find my story
+as interesting as you would like it to be,”
+Angel said after a moment. “And perhaps
+it may prejudice you against me. I don’t
+believe Americans think of these things as
+French people do. But my father was a
+ballet master and ever since I was the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span>
+tiniest little girl I had been taught to
+dance and dance, almost to do nothing
+else. You see I was to be a <i>première
+danseuse</i> some day,” Angel continued quite
+simply and calmly, scarcely noticing that
+Betty’s face had paled through sympathy
+and that she was biting her lips and resolutely
+turning away her eyes from the
+fragile figure stretched out in the long
+steamer chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was born in Paris, but when I was
+only a few years old my father came to
+New York and was one of the assistant
+ballet masters at your great opera house.
+Ten years later, I think it must have
+been, I was trying a very difficult dance
+and in some way I had a fall. I did not
+know it was very bad, we paid no attention
+to it, then this came.” The little
+French girl shrugged her shoulders. “My
+father died soon after and mother tried
+taking care of us both. She did sewing
+at the theaters and anything else she
+could. She wasn’t very successful. One
+day a chance came for me to have special
+treatment in Boston. I was sent there
+and mother got some other work to do.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span>
+I have only seen her once in months and
+months. But you can understand now
+why I am so anxious to make money. I
+was afraid perhaps you would not. I
+don’t want to be a burden on mother
+always and now I think perhaps I need
+not be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Angel spoke with entire cheerfulness and
+decision. It did not seem even to have
+occurred to her that she had been telling
+her friend an amazingly tragic little history.
+Nor did Betty Ashton wish her
+to realize how deeply affected she was by
+it. So, jumping up with rather an affectation
+of hurry and surprise, she kissed
+her companion lightly on the cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you a thousand times for confiding
+in me, dear, and please don’t be
+hopeless about never getting well. See
+how much you have improved! But there
+comes the first of our guests to lunch, a
+whole half hour too soon. But as long as
+Billy Webster promised to bring us the mail
+from Woodford I suppose I must forgive
+him. Anyhow I must try to keep him from
+worrying Mollie. She would be dreadfully
+bored to have him see her before she is
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span>
+dressed.” Betty walked away for a few
+steps and then came back again.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will never understand perhaps,
+Angel, how much my learning to know
+you this winter has done for me. I was
+dreadfully unhappy over something myself,
+and perhaps I am still, but coming to
+visit you in Boston and then our being
+together down here has cheered me immensely.
+I know you are a great deal
+younger than I am, but if Polly O’Neill
+never writes me again or wishes to have
+anything more to do with me, perhaps some
+day you may be willing to be my very,
+very intimate friend. You see I have not
+had even a single line from Polly in months
+and months and I can’t even guess what on
+earth has become of her.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span><a name='ch14' id='ch14'></a>CHAPTER XIV—A Sudden Summons</h2>
+<p>
+Though Billy Webster had brought
+with him from the village half a
+dozen letters and as many papers,
+no one of the dwellers in Sunrise cabin was
+able to read anything for three or four
+hours after his arrival.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Betty and Mollie were having an
+informal luncheon. But indeed, ever since
+taking up their abode at the cabin several
+weeks before, they had never passed a
+single day without guests. For it was too
+much like old times for their Woodford
+friends to find the door of the little house
+once more hospitably open, with a log fire
+burning in the big fire place in the living
+room and the movement and laughter of
+girls inside the old cabin and out.
+</p>
+<p>
+At present there were only the four of
+them living there together with the Ashton’s
+old Irish cook, Ann, as their guardian,
+chaperon and first aid in domestic difficulties. Later
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span>
+on, there would be other
+members of the Sunrise Hill club, who were
+already looking forward to spending their
+holidays at the cabin.
+</p>
+<p>
+As a matter of course, Billy Webster was
+at present their most frequent visitor,
+although his calls were ordinarily short.
+Almost every morning he used to ride up
+to the cabin on horseback to see if things
+had gone well with his friends during the
+night, or to ask if there were any errands
+in the village which he could do or have
+done for them. For you may remember
+that the land on which the cabin stood had
+been bought from Billy’s father and was
+not far from their farm. Billy now seemed
+to be the only one of their former boy
+friends who was able to come often to the
+old cabin.
+</p>
+<p>
+John Everett was at work in the broker’s
+office in New York City, Frank Wharton
+had only just returned from his honeymoon
+journey with Eleanor Meade, and Anthony
+Graham was attending a session of the
+New Hampshire Legislature and probably
+spending his week ends in visits to Meg
+Everett. There were other men friends,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span>
+assuredly, who appeared at the cabin now
+and then, but they had fewer associations
+with the past.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty was looking forward to John
+Everett’s coming a little later; but she had
+begged him to wait until they were more
+comfortably settled and the two younger
+girls had grown accustomed to their new
+surroundings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Today Rose Barton and Faith had driven
+out to the cabin for luncheon and Mrs.
+Crippen, Betty’s step-mother with the new
+small step-brother, who was an adorable
+red-haired baby with the pinkest of cheeks
+and the bluest eyes in the world. Then,
+soon after lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Frank
+Wharton appeared in their up-to-date motor
+car, which had been Frank’s wedding gift
+from his father.
+</p>
+<p>
+So it was a simple enough matter to
+understand why neither Betty nor Mollie
+had the opportunity even to glance inside
+the envelopes of their letters, though Mollie
+recognized that she had received one from
+her mother and Betty saw that Mrs. Wharton
+had also written to her. There was
+nothing unusual in this, for Betty and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span>
+Mrs. Wharton had always remained intimate
+and devoted friends, just as they had
+been since Betty was a tiny girl and Mrs.
+Wharton, as Mrs. O’Neill, lived across the
+street from the big Ashton house.
+</p>
+<p>
+Certainly for the time being the two
+hostesses had their attention fully distracted
+by their social responsibilities. For Mollie
+had direct charge of the luncheon party,
+while to Betty had fallen the duty of seeing
+that their friends learned to understand
+one another and to have a gay time.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a pleasure for her to observe what
+an interest Faith Barton had immediately
+seemed to feel in her little French girl.
+For one could only think of Angelique as a
+child, she was so tiny and fragile with all
+her delicate body hidden from view save
+her quaint, vivid face and slender arms.
+</p>
+<p>
+Faith herself had been a curious child,
+and though now so nearly grown, was not
+in the least like an every-day person. She
+was extremely pretty, suggesting a fair
+young saint in an old Italian picture; and
+still she loved dreams better than realities
+and books more than people. Ordinarily
+she was very shy; yet here in Angelique,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span>
+Faith believed that she had probably found
+the friend of her heart. The French girl
+seemed romance personified, and delicately
+and gently she set out to woo her. But
+Angel was not easy to win, she was still
+cold and frightened with all persons except
+her fairy princess. Nevertheless, Betty
+sincerely hoped that the two girls might
+eventually learn to care truly for each
+other.
+</p>
+<p>
+They were so different in appearance that
+it was an artistic pleasure to see them
+together. Faith was so soft and fair;
+Angel so dark and with such possibilities
+of restrained vivacity and passion. Then
+the older girl knew so little of real life,
+while the younger one had already touched
+its sorrows too deeply.
+</p>
+<p>
+After all, it was really Faith’s sudden
+attachment that kept the guests at the
+cabin longer than they had intended to
+remain.
+</p>
+<p>
+At four o’clock, fearing the excitement
+too much for her protégé, Betty had persuaded
+the girl to retire to bed. Faith had
+at once insisted on having tea alone in the
+room with Angel so that they might have a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span>
+chance for a really intimate conversation.
+It was Faith, however, who did all the
+talking, nor did she even have the satisfaction
+of knowing that her new acquaintance
+had enjoyed her. Certainly the French girl
+was going to be difficult; yet perhaps to a
+romantic nature mystery is the greatest
+attraction.
+</p>
+<p>
+Actually it was almost six o’clock when
+the last visitor had finally departed from
+Sunrise cabin and Mollie and Betty had
+a few quiet moments together. It had been
+a beautiful day and now when the sun was
+sinking behind the hill, spreading its radiance
+over the world, the two friends stepped
+outside the cabin door for a short breathing
+spell.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty had completely forgotten her unopened
+letters; she was thinking of something
+entirely different, and her gray eyes
+were not free from a certain wistfulness as
+she looked around the familiar landscape.
+All day long, although she had done her
+best at concealment, she had felt vaguely
+restless and unhappy. There had been no
+definite reason, except, perhaps, the pathetic
+story confided to her earlier in the day.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly Mollie O’Neill turned toward
+her friend, at the same instant drawing
+two letters from her pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I declare, Betty dear, I have not had a
+single moment of leisure all day, not even
+time to read mother’s letter. Have you?
+I do hope she had nothing of special importance
+to say. I thought she might possibly
+come and see us for a while this afternoon.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Seeing Mollie open Mrs. Wharton’s note
+and beginning to read it, Betty immediately
+followed her example. But the moment
+after both girls turned their eyes from
+studying the sheets of paper before them
+to stare curiously at each other.
+</p>
+<p>
+“How very extraordinary and how very
+unlike mother!” exclaimed Mollie O’Neill
+in a puzzled fashion.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Surely she must know that it is quite
+out of the question for us to do what she
+asks,” Betty went on, as if continuing her
+friend’s sentence. “She understands that
+we have just come to the cabin and that
+we have promised to take the best kind of
+care of Angel and Cricket with Dr. Barton’s
+assistance. Of course, Mollie, you may
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span>
+<i>have</i> to do what your mother says, but do
+please make her understand that it is
+impossible for me. I wish she was not so
+insistent, though, it makes it dreadfully
+difficult to refuse. Does your letter say
+that you must leave for New York City as
+early as possible tomorrow and join your
+mother at the Astor Hotel?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mollie nodded, still frowning. “If mother
+wished us to go to New York with her on
+business, or pleasure, or for whatever reason,
+I cannot see why she did not wait and let
+us all go together tomorrow. I simply
+can’t see why she should rush off this
+morning as her letter says and leave us to
+follow the next day. But I suppose if you
+can get some one to stay on here at the
+cabin with you, dear, that I must do as
+mother asks. You see, she writes that it
+is a matter of great importance that has
+called her away and that she is relying on
+my being with her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Reading her own letter for the second
+time, Betty folded it thoughtfully and
+replaced it inside the envelope. “Of course
+you must go, Mollie, without a shadow of a
+doubt,” she answered positively. “Rose
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span>
+and Faith will come out here and stay for
+a few days and Dr. Barton will be with them
+at night. I shall be rather glad to have
+them know Angel better; it might help her
+in a good many ways. The thing that
+troubles me is whether I ought to go with
+you. You see your mother also writes that
+she is relying on having me with her as well.
+Though she does not give me her reason,
+still she is very positive. She says that
+my coming to New York at the present
+time will mean a great deal to me personally,
+and moreover she particularly desires me
+to be with you.” Betty slowly shook her
+head. “I don’t see exactly how I can
+refuse; do you, Mollie? I don’t believe
+your mother has ever been really angry with
+me in my life and I should so hate her to be
+now. Besides I think it would be rather
+fun to go, and of course Rose would look
+after things for a few days.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then it is decided?” and Mollie breathed
+a sigh of mingled relief and pleasure. “Well,
+I must go in at once and telephone Billy
+and ask him to look up time-tables and
+things. Mother has sent me a check big
+enough to pay our expenses if you do not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span>
+happen to have the money at the cabin
+with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+All the hours following that evening and
+in the early morning were too busy with
+preparations and explanations to allow of
+much conjecture; yet in the back of their
+minds both girls were trying to work out
+the same problem.
+</p>
+<p>
+What conceivable thing could have happened
+to make Mrs. Wharton summon them
+to New York in this odd fashion? Could
+it have anything to do with Polly? But
+if Polly had been taken suddenly ill, would
+Mrs. Wharton not have given them some
+slight warning, some preparation for the
+shock that might lie ahead of them? Yet
+it was idle to make vain guesses or to
+worry without cause. In a short while
+Mrs. Wharton would, of course, explain
+the whole situation.
+</p>
+<p>
+As passengers on the earliest afternoon
+train that left Woodford for New York
+City next day, Mollie and Betty had already
+forgotten their first opposition to this
+journey to New York. All at once it
+appeared like a very delightful and natural
+excursion. If Mrs. Wharton had occasion
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span>
+to spend several days in New York what
+more agreeable than spending the time with
+her? There would be the shops and
+theaters to visit and a glimpse at the new
+spring fashions. Moreover, Betty did not
+altogether object to the idea of possibly
+seeing John Everett. They were old friends
+and his open admiration and attention
+meant a great deal to her.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span><a name='ch15' id='ch15'></a>CHAPTER XV—“Little Old New York”</h2>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton did not seem
+to consider that an explanation
+was imperative immediately upon
+the arrival of the two girls in New York.
+At the Forty-second street station she met
+them in a taxi, and certainly in traveling
+to their hotel through the usual exciting
+crush of motors, carriages and people there
+was no opportunity for serious questioning.
+</p>
+<p>
+They were to go to a musical as soon as
+dinner was over and there was just sufficient
+time to dress. So Betty went almost
+at once to her own room adjoining Mrs.
+Wharton’s, while Mollie occupied the room
+with her mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+Once while Mrs. Wharton was adjusting
+the drapery on a new frock which she had
+purchased for her daughter only that afternoon,
+Mollie turned toward her mother
+with her blue eyes suddenly serious. Up
+to that instant she had been too much
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span>
+absorbed in her frock to think of anything
+else.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why in the world, mother, did you
+send for us to join you in New York so
+unexpectedly? If you were thinking of
+coming, why did you not motor out and
+tell us? Or you might at least have telephoned,”
+she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton’s face was not visible, as
+she was engaged for the moment in the
+study of the new gown. “I made up my
+mind quite hurriedly, dear. There was
+nothing I could explain over the telephone.
+Besides, I have heard you and Betty say a
+dozen times that nothing gave you as much
+pleasure as a trip taken without any special
+discussion or preparation. Don’t you think
+we will have a charming time, just the
+three of us, dining at the different hotels,
+going to the theaters? I believe one calls it
+‘doing New York.’ But hurry, now, and
+finish fixing your hair. I must go and see
+if I can be of any assistance to the Princess.”
+And Mrs. Wharton hurried off without
+even attempting to answer her daughter’s
+question.
+</p>
+<p>
+Almost the same result followed a more
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span>
+deliberate attempt at cross-examination
+which took place at breakfast the following
+morning. This time both Mollie and
+Betty started forth as determined questioners.
+Why had they been summoned
+so suddenly to New York? What was the
+very important reason for their presence?
+It was all very charming, of course, and
+frankly both girls were delighted with the
+opportunity that had been given them.
+Still they both thought it only natural and
+fair that they should be offered some solution
+to the puzzle of their mysterious and
+hasty letters.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton only laughed and shrugged
+her shoulders ever so slightly, in a manner
+always suggestive of Polly. She did not
+see why she had to be taken to task so
+seriously because of an agreeable invitation.
+Had she said that there was some urgent
+reason for her request? Well, was it not
+sufficient that she wished the society of the
+two girls?
+</p>
+<p>
+Then deliberately picking up the morning
+paper Mrs. Wharton refused to listen to any
+further remarks addressed to her. A few
+moments afterwards, observing that her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span>
+companions had wandered from their original
+topic and were criticizing the appearance
+of a young woman a few tables away, a
+smile suddenly crumpled the corners of her
+mouth.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mollie, Betty, there are the most wonderful
+advertisements in the papers this
+morning of amazing bargains. Mollie,
+you and I both need new opera cloaks
+dreadfully and Mr. Wharton has said we
+might both have them. Of course we will
+shop all morning, but what shall we do tonight?
+Go to the theater, I suppose.
+When country people are in town an evening
+not spent at the theater is almost a
+wasted one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mollie laughed. “This from mother!”
+she exclaimed. “Think what you used to
+tell poor Polly about the wickedness of
+things theatrical! But of course I should
+rather go than do anything else.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton glanced toward Betty,
+who appeared to be blushing slightly without
+apparent cause.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am afraid I can’t go with you, if you
+don’t mind,” she explained. “You see I
+promised John Everett that I would see
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span>
+him tonight. He wrote asking me to give
+him my first evening, but I thought it better
+to make it the second.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, bring John along with us, Betty
+dear,” Mrs. Wharton returned. “I should
+like very much to have him and besides I
+don’t believe I should like you to go out
+with him alone in New York or to see him
+here at the hotel unless I am with you.
+People are more conventional here, dear,
+than in a small place.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty nodded. “Of course, we shall be
+delighted to be with you. What play shall
+we see?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Thoughtfully Mrs. Wharton picked up
+for the second time the temporarily discarded
+paper and commenced studying the
+list of theatrical attractions.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There is a little Irish play that has been
+running here in New York for about a
+month that is a great success,” she said.
+“I think I should very much like to see it
+if you girls don’t mind. It is called Moira.
+I hope we shall be able to get good seats.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The little party of three did not get back
+to the hotel until after tea time that afternoon
+and were then compelled to lie down,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span>
+as they were completely worn out from
+shopping. But fatigue made no difference
+in the interest of the toilets which the girls
+made for the evening. John Everett had
+been invited to dinner as well, and most
+unexpectedly Mr. Wharton had telegraphed
+that he was running down from Woodford
+for twenty-four hours and was bringing
+Billy Webster along with him. They would
+probably manage to arrive at about eight
+o’clock and would dress as quickly as
+possible. Dinner was not to be delayed
+on their account. They expected to dine
+on the train.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course Betty had promptly yielded to
+temptation and bought herself a new evening
+frock before the shopping expedition
+had been under way two hours. Mrs.
+Wharton had bought Mollie a charming
+one only the day before and was now buying
+her an opera coat to make the toilet complete.
+It was extravagant; Betty fully
+appreciated her own weakness. Was she
+not at great expense keeping Sunrise cabin
+open and looking after her two new friends?
+However, she had not been to New York
+for months and would probably not be
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span>
+there again in a longer time and the frock
+was a rare bargain and should not be
+overlooked. But every woman and girl
+thoroughly understands the arguments that
+must be gone through conscientiously before
+yielding to the sure temptation of
+clothes.
+</p>
+<p>
+Assuredly Betty felt no pangs of conscience
+when she looked at herself in the
+mirror a few moments before dinner time
+and just as she was about to join her
+friends. The dress was simple and not
+expensive, white <i>crepe de Chine</i> with a
+tunic of chiffon, adorned with a wide corn-colored
+girdle and little chiffon roses of the
+same shade, bordering the neck and elbow
+sleeves. Betty wore a bunch of violets
+at her waist. Mollie was in pure white,
+which was particularly becoming to her
+because of her dark hair and fair skin.
+</p>
+<p>
+But although the two girls had never
+looked prettier and although Mrs. Wharton
+was now past forty, a number of persons,
+seeing the little party, might have thought
+her the best-looking of the three. For
+even in her early girlhood, when she had
+been the recognized belle of Woodford,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span>
+never had she seemed more radiant, more
+full of vitality and happiness. She wore a
+curious blue and silver silk dress with a
+diamond ornament in her beautiful gray
+hair.
+</p>
+<p>
+All during dinner both Mollie and Betty
+discovered themselves gazing at Mrs. Wharton
+admiringly and with some wonder.
+For not only was she looking handsomer
+than usual, but seemed to be in the gayest
+spirits. Neither John Everett nor the girls
+had the opportunity for much conversation,
+as Mrs. Wharton absorbed the greater
+part of it.
+</p>
+<p>
+However, after Billy and Mr. Wharton
+had joined them, the four young people
+drove together to the theater, Mr. and Mrs.
+Wharton following in a second cab.
+</p>
+<p>
+The theater party was by this time such
+a large one, that, although there had been
+no mention made of it beforehand, no one
+was surprised at being shown a box instead
+of orchestra seats. However, the fact that
+the box was already occupied by two other
+figures was a tremendous surprise to Mollie
+and Betty.
+</p>
+<p>
+One of them was a tall young man with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span>
+black hair, a singularly well-cut though
+rather pale face, and handsome hazel eyes.
+The other was a girl, rather under medium
+height, with light hair and a figure as expressive
+of strength and quiet determination
+as her face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, Sylvia Wharton, what on earth
+has brought you to New York at such a
+time?” Mollie O’Neill demanded, throwing
+her arm affectionately around her step-sister’s
+waist and drawing her into the rear
+of the box. “I didn’t think any power on
+earth could persuade you to leave those
+dreadful studies of yours so near examination
+time!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I am one of mother’s surprises for
+you in New York!” Sylvia replied as
+calmly as though she had always known the
+whole story of the two girls’ unexpected
+journey. Calmness was ever a trait of
+Sylvia’s character.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mollie was so excited by this unlooked-for
+meeting with her younger sister that
+she would give no one else a chance to speak
+to her. The girls and their two escorts had
+arrived before Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, and
+it was therefore Mollie’s place to have
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span>
+welcomed their second guest or at least to
+have spoken to him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Under the circumstances Betty Ashton
+found herself compelled to offer her hand
+to Anthony Graham before any one else
+seemed aware of his presence. She was
+surprised to see him, she explained, yet very
+glad he happened to be in town for the
+evening. Betty was polite, certainly; still,
+no one could have exactly accused her of
+cordiality. Therefore Anthony was not
+sorry that the arrival of his host and hostess
+at this instant spared her from further
+effort.
+</p>
+<p>
+The evening was apparently to continue
+one of surprises. For no sooner had Mrs.
+Wharton’s party seated themselves in their
+box than Mollie touched Betty and Sylvia
+lightly with her fan.
+</p>
+<p>
+“See, dears,” she whispered, “look
+straight across the theater at the box
+opposite us. There is Margaret Adams
+and that good-looking Mr. Hunt, who
+used to be a friend of Polly’s.” Mollie
+turned to her mother. “Did you know Miss
+Adams was in New York? I thought she
+and Mr. Hunt were still acting.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton shook her head. “No,
+dear, their tour ended a week or more ago.
+Miss Adams is here in New York resting.
+She will not play again until next fall, I
+believe. Yes, I have seen her once since
+I came to town. But don’t talk, I wish to
+study my program.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With this suggestion both Mollie and
+Betty glanced for an instant at the list of
+characters in the center of their books of
+the play. Peggy Moore was the star of the
+performance. She was a young actress
+who must have earned her reputation quite
+recently, for no one had heard of her until
+a short while before.
+</p>
+<p>
+The bell rang for the raising of the curtain
+and at the same time Margaret Adams blew
+a kiss to the girls from behind her fan.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span><a name='ch16' id='ch16'></a>CHAPTER XVI—“Moira”</h2>
+<p>
+The first scene of the play opened
+upon a handsome New York drawing
+room, where preparations were
+evidently being made for a ball, for the
+room was filled with flowers, and servants
+were seen walking in and out, completing
+the final arrangements. Within a few moments
+two girls wearing dainty tea gowns,
+stole quietly down the stairway and stood
+in the center of the stage, discussing their
+approaching entertainment. They were
+both pretty and fashionable young women,
+evidently about eighteen and twenty-one.
+From their conversation it soon became
+evident that they were of plain origin and
+making a desperate effort to secure a place
+for themselves among the “smart set” in
+New York City. Moreover, they were
+spending more money than they should
+in the effort. The father had been an Irish
+politician, but, as he had died several years
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span>
+before, no outsiders knew the extent of the
+family fortune. Upon the horizon there
+was a friend upon whom much depended.
+He was evidently a member of an old New
+York family and of far better social standing
+than the rest of their acquaintances;
+moreover, he was wealthy, handsome and
+agreeable and had paid the older of the
+two sisters, Kate, somewhat marked attention.
+</p>
+<p>
+When after a few moments’ delay the
+second scene was revealed the ball had
+already begun. The stage setting was
+remarkably beautiful, the costumes charming
+and the dialogue clever. Yet so far
+the play had no poignant interest, so that
+now and then Betty found her attention
+wandering.
+</p>
+<p>
+What could have made this little play
+such a pronounced success that the dramatic
+critics had been almost universal in their
+praise of it? she wondered. What special
+charm did it have which crowded the
+theater every evening as it was crowded
+tonight? It was only a frivolous society
+drama of a kind that must have been acted
+many times before.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Behind her lace handkerchief Betty gracefully
+concealed a yawn. Then she glanced
+across the theater toward Margaret Adams’
+box, hoping she might catch another smile
+or nod from the great lady. But Miss
+Adams was leaning forward with her figure
+tense with interest and her eyes fastened
+in eager expectancy upon a door at the rear
+of the stage. Back of her, and it seemed to
+Betty even at this distance, that his face
+looked unusually white and strained, stood
+Richard Hunt. Assuredly he seemed as
+intent upon the play as Miss Adams.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty stared at the stage again. A dance
+had just ended, the guests were separating
+into groups and standing about talking.
+But a timid knock now sounded on the door
+which apparently no one heard. A moment
+later this door is slowly opened. There
+followed a murmur of excitement, a little
+electric thrill passing through the audience
+so that unexpectedly Betty found her own
+pulses tingling with interest and excitement.
+What a goose she had been! Surely she had
+heard half a dozen times at least that the
+success of this new play was entirely due
+to the charm and talent of the young
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span>
+actress, Peggy Moore, who took the part
+of the heroine.
+</p>
+<p>
+At the open door the newcomer was seen
+hesitating. No one noticed her, then she
+walked timidly forward and stood alone in
+the center of the stage, one of the most
+appealing, delicious and picturesque of
+figures in the world of fiction or reality.
+</p>
+<p>
+The girl was wearing an absurd costume,
+a bright red blouse, open at the throat,
+a plaid skirt too short for the slender legs
+beneath it and a big flapping straw hat decorated
+with a single rose. In one hand she
+carried an old-fashioned carpet bag and in
+the other a tiny Maltese kitten. The girl
+had two long braids of black hair that hung
+below her waist, scarlet lips, a white imploring
+face and wistful, humorous, tender
+blue eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty was growing cold to the tips of her
+fingers, although her face flushed until it
+felt almost painful. Then she overheard
+a queer, half-restrained sound near her and
+the next instant Mrs. Wharton leaned
+forward from her place and placed a hand
+on her arm and on Mollie’s.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, girls, it is Polly!” she whispered
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span>
+quietly, although with shining eyes. “But
+please, please don’t stir or do anything in
+the world to attract her attention. It was
+Polly’s own idea to surprise you like this,
+and yet she is dreadfully afraid that the
+sight of you may make her break down and
+forget her part. She is simply wonderful!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Naturally this was a mother’s opinion;
+however, nothing that Mrs. Wharton was
+saying was making the slightest impression,
+for neither Mollie nor Betty had heard a
+word.
+</p>
+<p>
+For Moira, the little Irish girl, had begun
+to speak and everybody on the stage was
+looking toward her, smiling and shrugging
+their shoulders, except the two daughters
+of the house and their fashionable mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+Moira had asked for her aunt, Mrs.
+Mulholland. She was not an emigrant
+maid-of-all-work, as the guests presumed
+her to be, but a niece of the wealthy household.
+She had crossed the ocean alone and
+was expecting a welcome from her relatives.
+</p>
+<p>
+At this point in the drama the hero came
+forward to the little Irish maid’s assistance.
+Then her aunt and cousins dared not display
+the anger they felt for this undesired guest.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span>
+Later it was explained that Moira had
+been sent to New York by her old grandfather,
+who, fearing that he was about to die,
+wished the girl looked after by her relatives.
+Moira’s father had been the son that stayed
+behind in Ireland. He had been desperately
+poor and the grandfather was supposed to be
+equally so. Then, of course, followed the
+history of the child’s efforts to fit herself
+into the insincere and unkind household.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing remarkable in the story of the
+little play, surely, but everything in the
+art with which Polly O’Neill acted it!
+</p>
+<p>
+Tears and smiles, both in writing and
+acting: these are what the artist desires
+as his true recognition. And Polly seldom
+spoke half a dozen lines without receiving
+one or the other. Sometimes the smiles
+and tears crowded so close together that
+the one had not sufficient time to thrust the
+other away.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I didn’t dream the child had it in her:
+it is genius!” Margaret Adams whispered
+to her companion, when the curtain had
+finally fallen on the second act and she had
+leaned back in her chair with a sigh of
+mingled pleasure and relief.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“She had my promise to say nothing
+until tonight. Yes, I have been in the
+secret since last winter.” Richard explained.
+“It was a blessed accident Polly’s
+finding just this particular kind of play.
+She could have played no other so well
+while still so young. You see, she was
+acting in a cheap stock company when a
+manager happened quite by chance to
+discover her. But she will want to tell you
+the story herself. I must not anticipate.”
+</p>
+<p>
+For a moment, instead of replying,
+Margaret Adams looked slightly amazed.
+“I did not know that you and Polly were
+such great friends, Richard, that she has
+preferred confiding in you to any one else,”
+she said at length.
+</p>
+<p>
+Richard Hunt had taken his seat and was
+now watching the unconcealed triumph and
+delight among the group of Polly’s family
+and friends in the box across the theater.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wasn’t chosen; I was an accident,”
+the man smiled. “Last winter in Boston
+I met Polly—Miss O’Neill,” he corrected
+himself, “and she told me what she was
+trying to do, fight things out for herself
+without advice or assistance from any one
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span>
+of us. But, of course, after I was taken into
+her secret she allowed me to keep in touch
+with her now and then. The child was
+lonely and dreadfully afraid you and her
+other friends would not understand or forgive
+what she had tried to do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Polly is not exactly a child, Richard;
+she must be nearly twenty-two,” Margaret
+Adams replied quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the final act the little Irish heroine had
+her hour of triumph. The hero had fallen
+in love with her instead of with the fashionable
+cousin. Yet Moira was not the pauper
+her relatives had believed her, for the old
+grandfather had recently died and his
+solicitor appeared with his will. The Irish
+township had purchased his acres of supposedly
+worthless land and Moira was
+proclaimed an heiress.
+</p>
+<p>
+At the end Polly was her gayest, most
+inimitable, laughing self. Half a dozen
+times Betty, Mollie and Sylvia found themselves
+forgetting that she was acting at all.
+How many times had they not known her
+just as wilful and charming, their Polly of a
+hundred swift, succeeding moods.
+</p>
+<p>
+Moira was not angry with any one in the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span>
+world, certainly not with the cousins who
+had been almost cruel to her. During her
+stay among them she had learned of their
+need of money and was now quick to offer
+all that she had. She was so generous, so
+happy, and with it all so petulant and charming,
+that at last even the stern aunt and the
+envious cousins succumbed to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then the curtain descended on a very
+differently clad heroine, but one who was
+essentially unchanged. Moira was dressed
+in a white satin made in the latest and most
+exquisite fashion; and her black hair was
+beautifully arranged on her small, graceful
+head. Only the people who loved her
+could have dreamed that Polly O’Neill
+would ever look so pretty. And in one hand
+the girl was holding a single red rose,
+though under the other arm she was still
+clutching her beloved Maltese cat.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Polly will not answer any curtain calls
+tonight,” Mrs. Wharton whispered hurriedly
+when the last scene was over. “If the
+others will excuse us she has asked that
+only Sylvia, Betty and Mollie come to her
+room. Margaret Adams will be there, but
+no one else. She is very tired at the close
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span>
+of her performances, but she is afraid you
+girls may not forgive her long silence and
+her deception. Will you come this way
+with me?”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span><a name='ch17' id='ch17'></a>CHAPTER XVII—A Reunion</h2>
+<p>
+Next morning at half past ten
+o’clock Polly O’Neill was sitting
+upright in bed in the room at her
+hotel with Betty on one side, Mollie on the
+other and Sylvia at the foot, gazing rather
+searchingly upon the object of their present
+devotion.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly was wearing a pale pink dressing
+jacket trimmed with a great deal of lace
+and evidently quite new. Indeed it had
+been purchased with the idea of celebrating
+this great occasion. The girl’s cheeks were
+as crimson as they had been on the stage
+the night before and her eyes were as
+shining. She was talking with great
+rapidity and excitement.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, it is perfectly thrilling and delightful,
+Mollie Mavourneen, and I never was
+so happy in my life, now that you know
+all about me and are not really angry,”
+Polly exclaimed gayly. “But I can tell
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span>
+you it wasn’t all honey and roses last
+winter, working all alone and being lonely
+and homesick and miserable most of the
+time. No one praised me or sent me
+flowers <i>then</i>,” and the girl looked with
+perfectly natural vanity and satisfaction
+at the big box of roses that had just been
+opened and was still lying on her lap.
+On her bureau there were vases of fresh
+flowers and several other boxes on a nearby
+table.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, it must be worth any amount of
+hard work and unhappiness to be so popular
+and famous,” Mollie murmured, glancing
+with heartfelt admiration and yet with a
+little wistfulness at her twin sister. “Just
+think, Polly dear, we are exactly the same
+age and used to do almost the same things;
+and now you are a celebrated actress and
+I’m just nobody at all. I am sorry I used
+to be so opposed to your going on the stage.
+I think it perfectly splendid now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With a laugh that had a slight quaver
+in it Polly threw an arm about her sister
+and hugged her close. “You silly darling,
+how you have always flattered me and how
+dearly I do love it!” she returned, looking
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span>
+with equal admiration at the soft roundness
+of Mollie’s girlish figure and the pretty
+dimples in her delicately pink cheeks.
+“I am not a celebrated actress in the least,
+sister of mine, just because I have succeeded
+in doing one little character part so that a
+few people, just a few people, like it. I do
+wonder what Margaret Adams thought of
+me. She did not say much last night. She
+is coming to see me presently, so I am desperately
+nervous over what she will say.
+One swallow does not make a career any
+more than it makes a summer. And as for
+daring to say you are nobody, Mollie
+O’Neill, I never heard such arrant nonsense
+in my life. For you know perfectly well
+that you are a thousand times prettier,
+more charming and more popular than I am,
+and everybody knows it except you. But,
+of course, you never have believed it in
+your life, you blessed little goose!” and
+Polly pinched her sister’s soft arm appreciatively.
+“I wish there was as much of
+me as there is of you for one thing, Mollie
+darling, your figure is a perfect dream and
+I’m nothing in the world but skin and
+bones,” Polly finished at last, drawing her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span>
+dressing jacket more closely about her with
+a barely concealed shiver.
+</p>
+<p>
+From the foot of the bed Sylvia was
+eyeing her severely. “Yes, we had already
+noticed that without your mentioning it,
+Polly,” she remarked dryly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her only answer was a careless shrugging
+of her thin shoulders, as Polly turned this
+time toward Betty.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What makes <i>you</i> so silent, Princess?
+You are not vexed with me and only said
+you were not angry last night to spare my
+feelings?” Polly asked more seriously
+than she had yet spoken. Even though
+Polly might believe that she loved her
+sister better, yet she realized that they
+could never so completely understand each
+other and never have perhaps quite the
+same degree of spiritual intimacy as she
+had with her friend.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty took Polly’s outstretched hand and
+held it lightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was only thinking of something; I
+beg your pardon, dear,” Betty replied
+quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly frowned. “You are not to think
+of anything or anybody except me today,”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span>
+she demanded jealously. “You have had
+months and months to think about other
+people. This is the best of what I have
+been working for—just to have you girls
+with me like this, and have you praise me
+and make love to me as Mollie did. Yes, I
+understand I am being desperately vain and
+self-centered, Princess; so you may think
+it your duty to take me to task for it. But
+it is only because I have always been such
+a dreadful black sheep among all the other
+Camp Fire girls. Then I suppose it is
+also because we have been separated so
+long. Pretty soon I’ll have to go back to
+the work-a-day, critical old world where
+nobody really cares a thing about me and
+where ‘my career,’ as Mollie calls it, has
+scarcely begun. But please don’t make me
+do all the talking, Betty, it is so unlike me
+and I can see that Sylvia thinks I am saying
+far too much.” Here Polly’s apparently
+endless stream of conversation was interrupted
+by a fit of coughing, which took all
+the color from her cheeks, brought there by
+the morning’s excitement, and left her
+huddled up among her pillows pale and
+breathless, with Sylvia’s light blue eyes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span>
+staring at her with a somewhat enigmatic
+expression.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty smiled, however, pulling at one of
+the long braids of black hair with some
+severity. Last night it had seemed to her
+that Polly O’Neill was quite the most
+wonderful person in the world and that
+she could never feel exactly the same
+toward her, but must surely treat her with
+entirely new reverence and respect. Yet
+here she was, just as absurd and childish
+as ever and pleading for compliments as a
+child for sweets. No one could treat Polly
+O’Neill with great respect, though love her
+one must to the end of the chapter. She
+had a thousand faults, yet Betty knew
+that vanity was not one of them. It was
+simply because of her affection for her
+friends that she wished to find them pleased
+with her. In her heart of hearts no one was
+humbler than Polly. Betty at least understood
+that her ambition would never leave
+her satisfied with one success.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I <i>was</i> thinking of you, my ridiculous
+Polly!” Betty answered finally. “I
+regret to state, however, that I was not
+for the moment dwelling on your great and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span>
+glorious career. Naturally no other Sunrise
+Hill Camp Fire girl may ever hope to
+aspire so high. I was wondering whether
+your mother allowed you to wander around
+by yourself last winter, and, if she did, how
+you ever managed to take proper care of
+yourself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dear me, hasn’t mother told you?
+Why of course I had a chaperon, child!
+Mollie, please ring the bell for me. She is
+a dear and is dreadfully anxious to meet
+all of you,” Polly explained. “But Sylvia
+took care of me too—would you mind not
+staring at me quite so hard <i>all</i> the time,
+Sylvia? I know I am better looking behind
+the footlights,” Polly now urged
+almost plaintively, for her younger sister
+was making her decidedly nervous by
+her continued scrutiny. “Betty, even you
+will hardly place me at the head of the
+theatrical profession at present,” she
+continued. “Though I am quite green
+with jealousy, I must tell you that Sylvia
+Wharton has stood at the head of her class
+in medicine, male and female, during this
+entire year and is confidently expected to
+come out first in her final examinations.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span>
+I am abominably afraid that Sylvia may
+develop into a more distinguished Camp
+Fire girl in the end than I ever shall.”
+</p>
+<p>
+There was no further opportunity at
+present for further personal discussion, for
+at this instant a tall, dark-haired woman
+with somewhat timid manners entered the
+room, where she stood hesitating, glancing
+from one girl’s face to the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know Sylvia, Mrs. Martins, so
+this is Mollie, whom you may recognize as
+being a good-looking likeness of me,” Polly
+began. “Of course this third person is
+necessarily Betty Ashton.”
+</p>
+<p>
+From her place on the bed Sylvia had
+smiled her greeting, but Mollie and Betty
+of course got up at once and walked forward
+to shake hands with the newcomer.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then unexpectedly and to Betty’s immense
+surprise, she found both of her
+hands immediately clasped in an ardent
+embrace by the stranger, while the woman
+gazed at her with her lips trembling and
+the tears streaming unchecked down her
+face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“How shall I ever thank you or make
+you understand?” she said passionately.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span>
+“All my life long I can never repay what
+you have done for me, but at least I shall
+never forget it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty pressed the newcomer’s hand
+politely, turning from her to Polly, hoping
+that she might in her friend’s expression
+find some clue to this puzzling utterance.
+Polly appeared just as rapt and mysterious.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are awfully kind and I am most
+happy to meet you,” Betty felt called on to
+reply, “but I am afraid you must have
+mistaken me for some one else. It is I
+who owe gratitude to you for having taken
+such good care of Polly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The Princess was gracious and sweet in
+her manner, but she could hardly be
+expected not to have drawn back slightly
+from such an extraordinary greeting from
+a stranger.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, my dear, I ought to have explained
+to you. You must forgive me, it is because
+I feel so deeply and that the people of my
+race cannot always control their emotions
+so readily,” the older woman protested.
+“It is my little girl, for whom you have
+done such wonderful things. She has
+written me that she is almost happy now
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span>
+that you have become her fairy princess.
+And in truth you are quite lovely enough,”
+the stranger continued, believing that at
+last she was making herself clear.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I? Your little girl?” Betty repeated
+stupidly. “You don’t mean you are
+Angelique’s mother? But of course you
+are. Now I can see that you look like
+each other and your name is ‘Martins.’
+It is curious, but I paid no attention to
+your name at first and never associated
+you with my little French girl.” Now it
+was Betty’s turn to find her voice shaking,
+partly from pleasure and also from
+embarrassment. “It was a beautiful accident,
+wasn’t it, for Angelique and I, and
+you and Polly to find each other? But you
+have nothing to thank me for, Mrs. Martins.
+Angel has given me more pleasure
+than I can ever give her. She has been
+so wonderful since she found something in
+life to interest her. Won’t you come to
+the cabin with me right away and see her?
+Mollie and Mrs. Wharton can surely look
+after Polly for a few days; besides she
+never does what any one tells her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly Betty let go her companion’s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span>
+hand, swinging around toward the elfish
+figure in the bed. For Polly did look
+elfish at this moment, with her knees
+huddled up almost to her chin and her head
+resting on her hand. Her eyes were almost
+all one could see of her face at present,
+they looked so absurdly large and so
+darkly blue.
+</p>
+<p>
+Betty seized the girl by both shoulders,
+giving her a tiny shake.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Polly O’Neill, did you write me those
+anonymous letters about Angel last winter?
+Oh, of course you did! But what a queer
+muddle it all is! I don’t understand, for
+Angel told me that she had never heard of
+Polly O’Neill in her entire life until I spoke
+of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And no more she has, Princess,” returned
+Polly smiling. “Everybody sit down
+and be good, please, while I explain things
+as far as I understand them. You see Mrs.
+Martins and I met each other at the
+theater one evening where she had come to
+do some wonderful sewing for some one.
+Well, of course my clothes were in rags,
+for with all our Camp Fire training I never
+learned much about the gentle art of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span>
+stitching. So Mrs. Martins promised to do
+some work for me and by and by we got
+to knowing each other pretty well. One
+day I found her crying, and then she told
+me about her little girl. A friend had
+offered to send Angelique to this hospital
+in Boston and Mrs. Martins felt she must
+let her go, as she could not make enough
+money to keep them comfortable. Besides
+Angelique needed special care and treatment.
+Of course she realized it was best
+for her little girl, yet they were horribly
+grieved over being separated.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Just at this time, Miss Brown, whom
+mother had persuaded to travel with me all
+winter, got terribly tired of her job. So I
+asked Mrs. Martins if she cared to come
+with me. When she and mother learned
+to know and like each other things were
+arranged.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Afterwards the heavenly powers must
+have sent you to that hospital, Betty dear,
+otherwise there is no accounting for it.
+Pretty soon after your first visit Angel
+wrote her mother describing a lovely lady
+with auburn hair, gray eyes and the most
+charming manner in the world, who had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span>
+been to the hospital to see them, but had
+only said a few words to her. Yes, I
+know you think that is queer, Betty, but
+please remember that though Angelique
+knew her mother was traveling with an
+eccentric young female, she did not know
+my real name. I was Peggy Moore to her
+always, just as I was to you until last
+night. Can’t you understand? Of course
+I knew you were in Boston with Esther
+and Dick, and besides there could be only
+one Betty Ashton in the world answering
+to your description. Then, of course,
+Mrs. Martins and I both wanted to write
+and explain things to you dreadfully, yet
+at the same time I did not wish you to
+guess where I was or what I was doing. So
+I persuaded Mrs. Martins to wait; at the
+same time I did write you these silly anonymous
+letters, for I was so anxious for you
+to be particularly interested in Angel. I
+might have known you would have been
+anyway, you dearest of princesses and
+best,” whispered Polly so earnestly that
+Betty drew away from her friend’s embrace,
+her cheeks scarlet.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am going to another room with Mrs.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span>
+Martins to have a long talk, Polly, while
+you rest,” Betty answered the next moment.
+“Mrs. Wharton said that we were
+not to stay with you but an hour and a
+half and it has been two already. You
+will want to be at your best when Margaret
+Adams comes to see you this afternoon.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you mean in the best of health,
+Betty,” Sylvia remarked at this instant, as
+she got down somewhat awkwardly from
+her seat on the bed, “then I might as well
+tell you that Polly O’Neill is far from
+being even ordinarily well. She has not
+been well all winter; but now, with the
+excitement and strain of her first success,
+she is utterly used up. All I can say is
+that if she does not quit this acting business
+and go somewhere and have a <i>real rest</i>,
+well, we shall all be sorry some day,” and
+with this unexpected announcement Sylvia
+stalked calmly out of the room, leaving
+three rather frightened women and one
+exceedingly angry one behind her.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span><a name='ch18' id='ch18'></a>CHAPTER XVIII—Home Again</h2>
+<p>
+“But, my beloved mother, you really
+can’t expect such a sacrifice of me.
+There isn’t anything else in the
+world you could ask that I would not agree
+to, but even you must see that this is out
+of the question.”
+</p>
+<p>
+It was several days later and Polly was
+in her small sitting room with her mother
+and Sylvia.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Besides it is absurd and wicked of
+Sylvia to have frightened you so and I
+shan’t forgive her, even if she has been
+good as gold to me all her life. How can
+I give up my part and go away from New
+York just when I am beginning to be a
+tiny bit successful?” Then, overcome with
+sympathy for herself, Polly cast herself
+down in a heap upon a small sofa and
+with her face buried in the sofa cushions
+burst into tears.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton walked nervously up and
+down the room.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know it is dreadfully hard for you,
+dear, and I do realize how much I am
+asking, even if you don’t think so, Polly,”
+she replied. “Besides you must not be
+angry with Sylvia. Of course I have not
+taken the child’s opinion alone, clever as
+she is. Two physicians have seen you in
+the last few days, as you know, and they
+have both given me the same opinion.
+You are on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
+If you will give up now it may not
+be serious, but if you will insist upon
+going on with your work no one will
+answer for the consequences. It is only a
+matter of a few weeks, my dear. I have
+seen your manager and he is willing to
+agree to your stopping as long as it is
+absolutely necessary. Perhaps you may be
+well enough to start in again in the fall.
+Isn’t it wiser to stop now for a short rest
+than to have to give up altogether later
+on?” she urged consolingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+As there was no answer from Polly, Mrs.
+Wharton’s own eyes also filled with tears.
+At the same moment Sylvia came up to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span>
+her step-mother and patted her comfortingly
+on the shoulder. It was odd, but
+Sylvia rarely expressed affection by kissing
+or the embraces common among most
+girls. Yet in her somewhat shy caresses
+there was fully as deep feeling.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t worry, mother, things will turn
+out all right,” she now said reassuringly.
+“Of course it is pretty hard on Polly.
+Even I appreciate that. But it is silly of
+her to protest against the inevitable. She
+will save herself a lot of strength if she only
+finds <i>that</i> out some day. But I’ll leave
+you together, since my being here only
+makes her more obstinate than ever.”
+</p>
+<p>
+As Sylvia was crossing the floor a sofa
+cushion was thrown violently at her from
+the apparently grief-stricken figure on the
+sofa. But while Mrs. Wharton looked
+both grieved and shocked Sylvia only
+laughed. Was there ever such another
+girl as her step-sister? Here she was at
+one instant weeping bitterly at the wrecking
+of her career, as she thought, and the
+next shying sofa cushions like a naughty
+child.
+</p>
+<p>
+Once Sylvia was safely out of the way,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span>
+Polly again sat upright on the sofa, drawing
+her mother down beside her. It was
+just as well that Sylvia had departed, for
+she was the one person in the world whom
+Polly had never been able to influence, or
+turn from her own point of view, by any
+amount of argument or persuasion. With
+her mother alone her task would be easier.
+Nevertheless Mrs. Wharton appeared singularly
+determined and Polly remembered
+that there had been occasions when her
+mother’s decision must be obeyed.
+</p>
+<p>
+However, she was no longer a child, and
+although it would make her extremely
+miserable to appear both obstinate and
+unloving, it might in this single instance be
+absolutely necessary. How much had
+she not already endured to gain this slight
+footing in her profession? Now to turn her
+back on it in the midst of her first success,
+because a few persons had made up their
+minds that she was ill,—well, any sensible
+or reasonable human being must understand
+that it was <i>quite</i> out of the question.
+</p>
+<p>
+So the discussion continued between the
+woman and girl, the same arguments being
+repeated over and over, the same pleading,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span>
+and yet without arriving at any sort of
+conclusion. There is no knowing how long
+this might have kept up if there had not
+come a sudden knocking at the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+Opening it the boy outside handed Mrs.
+Wharton a card.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is Mr. Hunt who has come to see
+you, Polly; shall I say you are not well?
+Or what shall I say? Of course it is out
+of the question for you to see any stranger,
+child. You have been crying until your
+face is swollen and your hair is in dreadful
+confusion,” Mrs. Wharton protested
+anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly unexpectedly scrambled to her feet.
+“Ask Mr. Hunt to wait a few minutes,
+please, mother, and then we will telephone
+down and tell him to come up. You see
+I had an engagement with him this afternoon
+and don’t like to refuse to see him.
+For once it is a good thing I have no pretensions
+to beauty like Betty and Mollie.
+Moreover, mother, I am obliged to confess
+to you that Mr. Hunt has seen me before,
+not only after I had been weeping, but
+while I was engaged in the act. You
+know he was about the only friend I saw
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span>
+all last winter, when I was so blue and
+discouraged with life. Besides, I am sure
+he will understand my point of view in
+this dreadful discussion we have just been
+having and will help me to convince you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Five minutes afterwards the celebrated
+Miss Polly O’Neill had restored her hair
+and costume to some semblance of order,
+although her eyes were still somewhat red
+and heavy, as well as her nose. Nevertheless
+she greeted her visitor without particular
+embarrassment. Mrs. Wharton,
+however, could not pull herself together so
+readily; so after a few moments of conventional
+conversation she asked to be excused
+and went away, leaving her daughter
+and guest alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+Fifteen minutes passed, half an hour,
+finally an entire hour. All this while Mrs.
+Wharton, remaining in her daughter’s bedroom
+which adjoined the sitting room, could
+hear the sound of two voices.
+</p>
+<p>
+Of course Polly did the greater share of
+the talking, but now and then Richard
+Hunt would speak for several moments at
+a time and afterwards there would be odd
+intervals of silence.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton could not hear what was
+being said, and she scarcely wished to
+return to the sitting room. She was still
+far too worried and nervous, although,
+having an engagement that must be kept,
+she wished to say good-by to Polly before
+leaving the hotel.
+</p>
+<p>
+Richard Hunt rose immediately upon
+Mrs. Wharton’s entrance.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am ever so sorry to have made such
+a long visit,” he apologized at once, “and
+I hope I have not interfered with you.
+Only Miss O’Neill and I have been having
+a pretty serious and important talk and I
+did not realize how much time had passed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly’s eyes had been fastened upon
+something in the far distance. Now she
+glanced toward her guest.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you need not apologize to mother for
+the length of your stay. When she hears
+what we have been discussing she will be
+more than grateful to you,” Polly interrupted.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You see, mother, Mr. Hunt does not
+agree with me, as I thought he would.
+Who ever has agreed with me in this tiresome
+world? He also thinks that I must
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span>
+stop acting at once and go away with you,
+if my family and the doctors think it necessary.
+And he has frightened me terribly
+with stories of people who have nervous
+breakdowns and never recover. People
+who never remember the lines in their
+plays again or what part they are expected
+to act. So I surrender, dear. I’ll go away
+with you as soon as things can be arranged
+wherever you wish to take me.” And
+Polly held up both her hands with an
+intended expression of saintliness, which
+was not altogether successful.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Bravo!” Richard Hunt exclaimed
+quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wharton extended her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am more grateful to you than I can
+express. You have saved us all from a
+great deal of unhappiness and I believe
+you have saved Polly from more than she
+understands,” she added.
+</p>
+<p>
+The girl took her mother’s hand, touching
+it lightly with her lips. “Please don’t
+tell Mr. Hunt what my family think of
+my obstinacy,” she pleaded. “Because if
+you do, he will either have no respect for
+me or else will have too much for himself because I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span>
+gave in to him,” she said
+saucily.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet it was probably ten minutes after
+Mr. Hunt’s departure before it occurred
+to Mrs. Wharton to be surprised over
+Polly’s unexpected surrender to a comparative
+stranger, when she had refused to
+be influenced by any member of her own
+family.
+</p>
+<p>
+But now the question of chief importance
+was where should Polly go for her much
+needed rest? It was her own decision
+finally that rather than any other place in
+the world she preferred to return to Woodford
+to spend the summer months in the
+old cabin near Sunrise Hill.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span><a name='ch19' id='ch19'></a>CHAPTER XIX—Illusions Swept Away</h2>
+<p>
+It was a golden July afternoon two
+months later when all nature was a
+splendid riot of color and perfume.
+In a hammock under a group of pine trees
+a girl lay half asleep. Now and then she
+would open her eyes to glance at the lazy
+white clouds overhead. Then she would
+look with perhaps closer attention at the
+figure of another girl who was seated a few
+yards away.
+</p>
+<p>
+If the girl in the hammock was dreaming,
+her companion fitted oddly into her dream.
+She was dressed in a simple white muslin
+frock and her hair had a band of soft blue
+ribbon tied about it. In her lap lay an
+open book, but no page had been turned
+in the last fifteen minutes and indeed she
+was quieter than her friend who was supposed
+to be asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Betty,” a voice called softly, “bring
+your chair nearer to me. I have done my
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span>
+duty nobly for the past two hours and have
+not spoken a single, solitary word. So
+even the sternest of doctors and nurses
+can’t say I am unfaithful to my rest cure.
+Besides it is absurd, now when I am as
+well as any one else. Yes, that is much
+better, Betty, and you are, please, to gaze
+directly into my face while I am talking to
+you. I haven’t liked your fashion lately
+of staring off into space, as you were doing
+just recently and indeed on all occasions
+when you believe no one is paying any
+special attention to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With a low curtsey Betty did as she was
+commanded. She even knelt down on the
+ground beside the hammock to look the
+more directly into the eyes of her friend.
+But as she continued, unexpectedly a slow
+color crept into her cheeks from her
+throat upwards until it had flushed her
+entire face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I declare, Polly,” she exclaimed jumping
+to her feet abruptly and sitting down in
+her chair again, “you make me feel as though
+I had committed some offence, though I do
+assure you I have been as good as gold, so
+far as I know, for a long, long time.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly was silent a moment. “You know
+perfectly well, Betty, that I don’t think
+you have done anything wrong. You need
+not use that excuse to try and deceive me,
+dear, because it does not make the slightest
+impression. The truth is, Betty, that you
+have a secret that you are keeping from me
+and from every one else so far as I know.
+Of course there isn’t any reason why you
+should confide in me if you don’t wish.
+You may be punishing me for my lack of
+confidence in you last winter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+This last statement was possibly made
+with a double intention. Betty responded
+to it instantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Surely, Polly, you must know that
+would not make the slightest difference,”
+she returned earnestly. And then the next
+instant, as if fearing that she might have
+betrayed herself: “But what in the world
+makes you think I am cherishing a secret,
+you absurd Polly? I suppose you have had
+to have something to think about these
+past two months, when you have spent so
+much time lying down. Well, when I see
+how you have improved I am quite willing
+to have been your victim.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+With a quick motion the other girl now
+managed to sit upright, piling her sofa
+cushions behind her. Her color was certainly
+sufficiently vivid at this instant.
+But indeed she was so improved in every
+way that one would hardly have known her
+for the Polly O’Neill of the past year’s
+trials and successes. Her figure was almost
+rounded, her chin far less pointed and all
+the lines of fatigue and nervous strain had
+vanished from her face. But Polly’s temper
+had not so materially changed!
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t worth while to accuse me of
+having tried to spy into your private
+affairs, Princess,” she replied haughtily.
+“But if you do feel that I have, then I
+ask your pardon for now and all times.
+I shall never be so offensive again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+There followed a vast and complete
+human silence. Then Polly got up from
+her resting place and went and put her arm
+quietly about her friend.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Princess, I would rather that the stars
+should fall or the world come to an end,
+than have you really angry with me,” she
+murmured. “But you know I did not mean
+to offend you by asking you to confide in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span>
+me, don’t you? Anyway I promise never,
+never to ask you again. Here, let me have
+the Woodford paper, please. I believe
+Billy brought us the afternoon edition.
+I wonder if he and Mollie will be gone on
+their boating expedition for long? They
+must have been around the lake half a
+dozen times already.”
+</p>
+<p>
+As though dismissing the subject of their
+past conversation entirely from her mind,
+Polly, resuming her hammock, now buried
+herself in the columns of the Woodford
+<i>Gazette</i>. Apparently she had not observed
+that no reply had been made either to her
+accusation or apology. She could see that
+Betty was not seriously angry, which was
+the main thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Get out your embroidery, Princess,
+and let me read the news aloud to you;”
+she demanded next. “I love to watch you
+sew. It is not because you do it so particularly
+well, but because you always
+manage to look like a picture in a book.
+Funny thing, dear, why you have such a
+different appearance from the rest of us.
+Oh, I am not saying that probably other
+girls are not as pretty as you are, Mollie
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span>
+and Meg for instance. But you have a
+different look somehow. No wonder Angel
+thinks you are a fairy princess.”
+</p>
+<p>
+But at this moment an unexpected
+choking sound, that seemed in some fashion
+to have come forth from Betty, interrupted
+the flow of her friend’s compliments.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Please don’t, Polly,” she pleaded.
+“You know I love your Irish blarney most
+of the time beyond anything in this world.
+But now I want to tell you something.
+I have had a kind of a secret for over a
+year, but it is past now and I’m dreadfully
+sorry if you believe you find a change in
+me that you don’t like. I suppose sometimes
+I do feel rather blue simply because
+I am of so little account in the world.
+Please don’t think I am jealous, but you
+and Sylvia and Nan and Meg are all doing
+things and Esther and Edith and Eleanor
+are married and Mollie helps her mother
+with your big house. I believe Beatrice
+and Judith are both at college, though we
+have been separated from them for such a
+long time. So you see I am the only good-for-nothing
+in the old Sunrise Hill Camp
+Fire circle.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I see,” was the somewhat curt
+reply from behind the outspread paper.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mrs. Martins told me yesterday that
+the surgeons Dr. Barton brought to see
+Angelique think she may be able to walk
+in another year or so and I believe Cricket
+is to give up her crutches altogether
+in a few months,” Polly presently remarked.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the sunshine Betty Ashton’s face shone
+with happiness. “Yes, isn’t it wonderful?”
+she remarked innocently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course, doing beautiful things for
+other people isn’t being of the slightest
+use in the world,” the other girl continued,
+as though talking to herself. “Yet Mrs.
+Martins also said yesterday, that she and
+Angelique believed they had strayed into
+Paradise they were so happy here at the
+cabin with the prospect of Angel’s growing
+better ahead of them. And I believe
+Cricket dances and sings with every step
+she takes nowadays.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I?” interrupted Betty.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, of course you have had nothing
+in the world to do with it and I never
+accused you for a single instant,” her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span>
+friend argued, and then Polly fell to reading
+the paper aloud.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘The friends of Doctor and Mrs. Richard
+Ashton, now of Boston, Massachusetts, but
+formerly of Woodford, New Hampshire,
+will be delighted to hear of the birth of
+their son, Richard Jr., on July the fourteenth.’
+How does it feel to be an aunt?”
+the reader demanded.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Delicious,” Betty sighed, and then began
+dreaming of her new nephew, wondering
+when she was to be allowed to see him,
+until Polly again interfered with her train
+of thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wharton entertained
+at dinner last night in their new home
+in honor of Mr. Anthony Graham, our
+brilliant young congressman who has returned
+to Woodford for a few days.’ Well,
+I like that!” Polly protested. “Think of
+Frank and Eleanor daring to give a dinner
+party and asking none of their other old
+friends or relatives. They <i>must</i> feel set
+up at being married before the rest of us.”
+</p>
+<p>
+For the first time Betty now actually
+took a few industrious stitches in her
+embroidery. “Oh, they probably did not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span>
+have but two or three guests. You know
+how papers exaggerate things, Pollykins,
+I would not be so easily offended with my
+relations,” she protested.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, but you used to be such an intimate
+friend of Anthony Graham’s. Do
+you know I look upon him as one of your
+good works, Betty? I wonder if he will
+condescend to come to the cabin to see us,
+now he is such a busy and distinguished
+person. Is he as much a friend of yours
+now as he used to be?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Unexpectedly Betty’s thread broke, so
+that she was forced to make another knot
+before replying.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Friend of mine? No, yes; well, that is
+we are friendly, of course, only Anthony has
+grown so fond of Meg Everett lately that
+he has not much time for any one else.
+But please don’t speak of anything I
+ever did for him, Polly. I beg it of you as
+a special favor. In the first place it was so
+ridiculously little and in the second I think
+it pretty hard on Anthony to have an
+unfortunate accident like that raked up
+against him now that he has accomplished
+so much.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, all right,” Polly returned, thoughtfully
+digging into the earth with the toe
+of her pretty kid slipper.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good heavens, speaking of angels or
+the other thing!” she exclaimed, a moment
+later, “I do declare if that does not look
+like Anthony Graham coming directly toward
+us this instant. Do go and speak to
+him first, dear, while I manage to scramble
+out of this hammock.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Ten minutes later Anthony was occupying
+the chair lately vacated by Betty,
+while Polly was once more in a reclining
+position. Knowing that she was still
+regarded as a semi-invalid, Anthony had
+insisted that she must not disturb herself
+on his account. He had explained that
+the reason for his call was to find out how
+she was feeling. So, soon after this statement,
+Betty had left the two of them
+together, giving as an excuse the fact
+that as she had invited Anthony to stay
+with them to tea she must go to the cabin
+to help get things ready.
+</p>
+<p>
+After Betty’s disappearance Polly did
+not find her companion particularly interesting.
+He scarcely said half a dozen
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span>
+words but sat staring moodily up toward
+the dark branches of the enshadowing pine
+trees. This at least afforded Polly a fine
+opportunity for studying the young man’s
+face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have improved a lot, Anthony,”
+she said finally. “Oh, I beg your pardon,
+I am afraid I was thinking out loud.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her visitor smiled. “Well, so long as
+your thoughts are complimentary I am
+sure I don’t mind,” he returned. “Keep
+it up, will you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+The girl nodded. “There is nothing I
+should like better. You know it is odd,
+but the Princess and I were talking about
+you just when you appeared. I must say
+I am amazed at your prominence, Anthony.
+I never dreamed you would ever amount
+to so much. It was funny, but Betty used
+always to have faith in you. I often wondered
+why.”
+</p>
+<p>
+This time her companion did not smile.
+“I wish to heaven then that she had faith
+in me now, or if not faith at least a little
+of her old liking,” he answered almost
+bitterly. “For the last year, for some
+reason or other, Miss Betty has seemed to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span>
+dislike me. She has avoided me at every
+possible opportunity. And I have never
+been able to find out whether I had
+offended her or if she had merely grown
+weary of my friendship. I have been so
+troubled by it that I have made a confidant
+of Miss Everett and asked her to help me
+if she could. I thought perhaps if Betty—Miss
+Betty, I mean—could see that Meg
+Everett liked me and was willing to be my
+intimate friend, that possibly she might
+forgive me in time. But it has all been of
+no use, she has simply grown colder and
+colder. And I fear I only weary Miss
+Everett in talking of Miss Betty so much
+of the time. She recently told me that I
+did.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly’s lips trembled and her shoulders
+shook. What a perfectly absurd creature
+a male person was at all times and particularly
+when under the influence of love!
+</p>
+<p>
+The next moment the girl’s face had
+strangely sobered.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are not worthy to tie her shoe-string,
+you know, Anthony; but then I
+never have seen any one whom I have
+thought worthy of her. Most certainly
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span>
+neither Esther nor I approved of the
+nobility as represented by young Count
+Von Reuter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Aloud Polly continued this interesting
+debate with herself, apparently not concerned
+with whether or not her companion
+understood her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Certainly I am unworthy to tie <i>any one’s</i>
+shoe-string,” the young man murmured
+finally, “but would you mind confiding in
+me just whose shoe-string you mean?”
+</p>
+<p>
+From under her dark lashes half resentfully
+and half sympathetically the girl surveyed
+the speaker. “You have a sense of
+humor, Anthony, and that is something to
+your credit,” she remarked judicially.
+“Well, much as I really hate to say it, I
+might as well tell you that I don’t think
+the Princess dislikes you intensely, provided
+you tell her just why you have been
+so intimate with Meg for these past
+months. No, I have nothing more to say.
+Only I am going down to the lake for half
+an hour to join Mollie and Billy Webster
+and if you wait here you may have a
+chance of speaking to Betty alone when she
+comes to invite us in to tea.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Then quietly Polly O’Neill strolled away
+with every appearance of calmness, although
+she was really feeling greatly perturbed
+and distressed. Certainly something must
+have worked a reformation in her character,
+for although she positively hated the
+idea of Betty Ashton’s marrying, had she
+not just thrust her deliberately into the
+arms of her fate. Yet, of course, her feeling
+was a purely selfish one, since she had no
+real fault to find with Anthony. So if
+Betty loved him, he must have his chance.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then with a smile and a sigh Polly once
+more shrugged her shoulders, which is the
+Irish method of acknowledging that fate is
+too strong for the strongest of us. She
+reached the edge of the lake and madly
+signaled to Mollie and Billy to allow her
+to enter their boat. They were at no
+great distance off and yet were extremely
+slow in approaching the shore. Evidently
+they seemed to feel no enthusiasm for the
+newcomer’s society at the present moment.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought you were asleep, Polly,”
+Mollie finally murmured in a reproachful
+tone, while Billy Webster eyed his small
+canoe rather doubtfully.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“She won’t carry a very heavy load,
+Miss Polly,” he remarked, drawing alongside.
+Polly calmly climbed into the skiff,
+taking her seat in the stern.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t sleep all the time, sister of
+mine,” she protested, once she was comfortably
+established, “much as I should
+like to accommodate my family and friends
+by the relief from my society. And as for
+my being too heavy for your canoe, Billy
+Webster, I don’t weigh nearly so much as
+Mollie. So if you think both of us too
+heavy, she might as well get out and
+give me a chance. You have been around
+this lake with her at least a dozen times
+already this afternoon. Besides, I really
+have to be allowed to remain somewhere.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Plainly Mollie’s withdrawal from the
+scene had no place in Billy’s calculations,
+for without further argument he moved
+out toward the middle of the pond.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span><a name='ch20' id='ch20'></a>CHAPTER XX—Two Engagements</h2>
+<p>
+Ten minutes more must have passed
+before Betty decided to return to
+her friends. Yet during her short
+walk to the pine grove she was still oddly
+shy and nervous and in a mood wholly
+dissatisfied with herself. Why in the
+world did she so often behave coldly to
+Anthony Graham and with such an appearance
+of complete unfriendliness? There
+was nothing further from her own desire,
+for certainly he had an entire right to have
+transferred his affection to Meg! To
+show either anger or pique was small and
+unwomanly!
+</p>
+<p>
+Never had there been definite understanding
+between Anthony and herself.
+Indeed she had always refused even to
+listen to any serious expression of his
+affection for her. Long ago there had
+been a single evening after her return from
+Germany, when together they had watched
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span>
+the moon go down behind Sunrise Hill, an
+evening which she had not been able to
+forget. Yet she had only herself to blame
+for the weakness, since if Anthony had
+forgotten, no girl should cherish such a
+memory alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now here was an opportunity for proving
+both her courage and pride. With the
+thought of her old title of Princess, Betty’s
+cheeks had flamed. How very far she had
+always been from living up to its real
+meaning. Yet she must hurry on and
+cease this absurd and selfish fashion of
+thinking of herself. A cloud had come
+swiftly up out of the east and in a few
+moments there would be a sudden July
+downpour. Often a brief storm of wind
+and rain closed an unusually warm day in
+the New Hampshire hills.
+</p>
+<p>
+Under no circumstances must Polly
+suffer. Only a week before had Mrs.
+Wharton been persuaded to leave Polly
+in their charge when she and Mollie had
+both promised to take every possible care
+of her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly Betty began running so that
+she arrived quite breathless at her destination. Her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span>
+face was flushed, and from
+under the blue ribbon her hair had escaped
+and was curling in red-brown tendrils over
+her white forehead. Then at the entrance
+to the group of pines, before she has even
+become aware of Polly’s disappearance,
+Anthony Graham had unexpectedly caught
+hold of both her hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Betty, you must listen to me,” he
+demanded. “No, I can’t let you go until
+I have spoken, for if I do you will find
+some reason for escaping me altogether as
+you have been doing these many months.
+You must know I love you and that I
+have cared for no one else since the hour
+of our first meeting. Always I have
+thought of you, always worked to be in
+some small way worthy even of daring to
+say I love you. Yet something has come
+between us during this past year and it is
+only fair that you should tell me what it
+is. I do not expect you to love me, Betty,
+but once you were my friend and I could
+at least tell you my hopes and fears. Is
+it that you are engaged to some one else
+and take this way of letting me know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Still Anthony kept close hold of the girl’s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span>
+hands, and now after her first effort she
+made no further attempt to draw herself
+away. His eyes were fixed upon hers with
+an expression that there was no mistaking,
+yet something in the firm and resolute lines
+about his mouth revealed the will responsible
+for Anthony Graham’s success and
+power. Quietly he now drew his companion
+closer beneath the shelter of the
+trees, for the first drops of rain were beginning
+to fall.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I am still your friend, Anthony.
+You are mistaken in thinking that anything
+has come between us. As for my
+being engaged to some one else that is
+quite untrue. I only thought that you and
+Meg were so intimate that you no longer
+needed me.” For the first time Betty’s
+voice faltered.
+</p>
+<p>
+Anthony was saying in a tone she should
+never forget even among the thousands of
+incidents in their crowded lives, “I shall
+always need and want you, Betty, to the
+last instant of created time.” Then he
+brought both her hands up to his lips
+and kissed them. “Meg was only enduring
+my friendship so that I might have
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span>
+some one with whom I could talk about
+you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly Anthony let go Betty’s hands
+and stepped back a few paces away from
+her. His face had lost the radiant look of a
+brief moment before.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Betty, a little while ago you told me that
+you were still my friend and that no one
+had come between us, and it made me very
+happy. But I tell you honestly that I
+do not think I can be happy with such an
+answer for long. Two years ago, when you
+and I together watched the moon over
+Sunrise Hill, I dared not then say more
+than I did, I had not enough to offer you.
+But now things are different and it isn’t
+your friendship I want! Ten thousand
+times, no! It is your love! Do you think,
+Betty, that you can ever learn to love me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Now Betty’s face was white and her
+gray eyes were like deep wells of light.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Learn to love you, Anthony? Why I
+am not a school girl any longer and I
+learned that lesson years and years ago.”
+</p>
+<p>
+When the storm finally broke and the
+thunder crashed between the heavy deluges
+of rain neither Anthony nor Betty cared to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span>
+make for the nearby shelter of Sunrise
+cabin. Instead they stood close together
+laughing up at the sky and at the lovely
+rain-swept world. Once Betty did remember
+to inquire for the vanished Polly, but
+Anthony assured her that Polly had joined
+Mollie and Billy half an hour before and
+that they would of course take the best
+possible care of her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nevertheless at this instant Polly O’Neill
+was actually floundering desperately about
+in the waters of Sunrise Lake while trying
+to make her way to the side of their overturned
+skiff. Billy Webster, with his arm
+about Mollie, was swimming with her safely
+toward shore.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t be frightened, it is all right,
+dear. I’ll look after Polly in a moment,”
+he whispered encouragingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Returning a few moments later Billy discovered
+his other companion, a very damp
+and discomfited mermaid, seated somewhat
+perilously upon the bottom of their wrecked
+craft.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never knew such behavior in my life,
+Billy Webster,” she began angrily, as soon
+as she was able to get her wet hair out
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span>
+of her mouth. “The idea of your going
+all the way into shore with Mollie and
+leaving me to drown. You might at least
+have seen that I got safe hold of your old
+boat first.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I know; I am sorry,” Billy replied,
+resting one hand on the side of his skiff
+and so bringing his head up out of the
+water in order to speak more distinctly.
+“But you see, Polly, I knew you could
+swim and Mollie is so easily frightened and
+it all came so suddenly, the boat’s overturning
+with that heavy gust of wind. To
+tell you the truth, I didn’t even remember
+you were aboard until Mollie began asking
+for you. I wonder if you would mind
+helping me get this skiff right side up. It
+would be easier for us to paddle in than for
+me to have to swim with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Gasping, Polly slid off her perch.
+</p>
+<p>
+“After that extra avalanche of cold
+water nothing matters,” she remarked icily.
+However, her companion did not even hear
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Safe on land again, Polly waited under a
+tree while the young man pulled his boat
+ashore. Her sister had gone ahead to send
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span>
+some one down with blankets and umbrellas.
+In spite of the rain, damp clothes
+and the shock of her recent experience,
+Polly O’Neill was not conscious of feeling
+particularly cold.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope you are not very uncomfortable,
+and that our accident won’t make you ill
+again,” Billy Webster said a few moments
+later as he joined her. “I suppose I do
+owe you a little more explanation for having
+ignored you so completely. But you
+see, just about five minutes before you
+insisted on getting into our boat Mollie had
+promised to be my wife. We did not dare
+talk very much after you came on board,
+but you can understand that I simply
+wasn’t able to think of any one else. You
+see I have loved Mollie ever since that day
+when we were children and she bound up
+the wound you had made in my head.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Once more Polly gasped slightly, and of
+course she was beginning to feel somewhat
+chilled.
+</p>
+<p>
+Billy Webster looked at her severely.
+“Oh, of course I did think I was in love
+with you, Polly, for a year or so, I remember.
+But that was simply because I had not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span>
+then learned to understand Mollie’s true
+character. I used to believe it would be
+a fine thing to have a strong influence over
+you and try to show you the way you
+should go.” Here Billy laughed, and he
+was very handsome with his damp hair
+pushed back over his bronzed face and
+his wet clothes showing the outline of
+his splendid boyish figure, matured and
+strengthened by his outdoor life.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you see, Polly, I believe nobody is
+ever going to be able to influence you to
+any great extent,” he continued teasingly,
+“and at any rate you and I will never have
+half the chances to quarrel that we would
+have had if we had ever learned to like
+each other. I forgive you everything now
+for Mollie’s sake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+For half a moment Polly hesitated, then,
+holding out her hand, her blue eyes grew
+gay and tender.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you, Billy,” she said, “for Mollie’s
+sake. If you make her as happy as I
+think you will, why, I’ll also forget and
+forgive you everything.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Fortunately by the time Mrs. Martins and
+Ann had arrived with every possible comfort for the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span>
+invalid. And so Polly was
+borne to the cabin in the midst of their
+anxious inquiries and put to bed, where
+neither her sister nor Betty were allowed
+to see her during the evening.
+</p>
+<p>
+If either of the girls suffered from the
+deprivation of her society there was nothing
+that gave any indication of unhappiness in
+either of the two faces.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span><a name='ch21' id='ch21'></a>CHAPTER XXI—At the Turn of the Road</h2>
+<table class='c' summary=''><tr><td>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>“By&#160;day,&#160;upon&#160;my&#160;golden&#160;hill</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Between&#160;the&#160;harbor&#160;and&#160;the&#160;sea,</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I&#160;feel&#160;as&#160;if&#160;I&#160;well&#160;could&#160;fill</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The&#160;world&#160;with&#160;golden&#160;melody.</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>There&#160;is&#160;no&#160;limit&#160;to&#160;my&#160;view,</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>No&#160;limit&#160;to&#160;my&#160;soft&#160;content,</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Where&#160;sky&#160;and&#160;water’s&#160;fairy&#160;blue</p>
+<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Merge&#160;to&#160;the&#160;eye’s&#160;bewilderment.”</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+<p>
+Polly read from the pages of a magazine,
+and then pausing for a moment she again
+repeated the verse aloud, giving each line
+all the beauty and significance of which it
+was capable.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was walking alone along a path
+beyond the grove of pine trees one Sunday
+morning about ten days later. She wore
+no hat and her dress was of plain white
+muslin without even a ribbon belt for
+decoration. She had a bunch of blue corn
+flowers, which she had lately gathered,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span>
+pinned to her waist and was looking particularly
+young and well.
+</p>
+<p>
+Yet for the first time since her home
+coming Polly had recently been feeling
+somewhat lonely and neglected. There
+was at present absolutely no counting on
+Mollie for anything. Billy had always made
+demands upon her time when they were
+simply friends, but since their engagement
+had been announced there was never an
+entire afternoon or even morning when
+Mollie was free. In answer to Polly’s
+protests that she was only to be at home
+during the summer and so would like to see
+her only sister alone now and then, Billy had
+explained that early August was the only
+month in which he had any real leisure and
+that he and Mollie must therefore make
+plans for their future at once. Moreover,
+as it was self-evident that her sister preferred
+her fiancé’s society to her own,
+Polly had been forced to let the matter
+drop.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then a week before, Betty had gone to
+Boston to see Esther and her new nephew,
+which was discouraging for her friend.
+For as Anthony had been too busy to come
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span>
+to the cabin except in the evenings, Polly
+had the Princess to herself during the day
+time.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had promised Betty to stay on at the
+cabin until her return, as the simple, outdoor
+life seemed to be doing her so much
+good; nevertheless, Polly had determined
+to go into Woodford in the next few days
+and persuade her mother to take her away
+unless things at the cabin became more
+interesting. She was now rested and
+entirely well and more than anxious to get
+back to her work again, since the friends
+on whom she had depended were at present
+too absorbed to give her much of their time
+or thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, Margaret Adams always told me
+that ‘a career’ was a lonely kind of life,”
+Polly thought to herself. “But oh, what
+wouldn’t I give if Margaret should appear
+at this moment at the turn of that road.
+She must have had my letter on Friday
+begging her to come and perhaps she had no
+other engagement. It will be delightful,
+too, if she brings Mr. Hunt along with her.
+I told her to ask him, as Billy can make him
+comfortable at the farm. I should like him
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span>
+to see Sunrise cabin and the beautiful
+country about here.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly had finally come to the end of her
+lane and beyond could see the road leading
+out from the village. She was a little
+weary, as she had not walked any distance
+in several months until this morning. There
+was a convenient seat under the shade of a
+great elm tree that commanded a view of
+the country and she had her magazine with
+her and could hear the noise of an approaching
+motor car or carriage, should Margaret
+have decided to come.
+</p>
+<p>
+Again Polly fell to memorizing the poem
+she had been trying to learn during her
+stroll. It was good practice to get back
+into the habit of training her memory, and
+the poem seemed oddly descriptive of her
+present world.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;“Tonight,&nbsp;upon&nbsp;my&nbsp;somber&nbsp;gaze<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;With&nbsp;gleam&nbsp;of&nbsp;silvered&nbsp;waters&nbsp;lit,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;feel&nbsp;as&nbsp;if&nbsp;I&nbsp;well&nbsp;could&nbsp;praise<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The&nbsp;moon——”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Here Polly was interrupted by the sound
+of a voice saying:
+</p>
+<p>
+“My dear Miss Polly, I never dreamed
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span>
+of finding you so well. Why, if you only had
+the famous torn hat and rake you would
+pass for Maud Muller any day!”
+</p>
+<p>
+With a cry of welcome Polly jumped to
+her feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Hunt, I am so glad to see you and
+so surprised!” she exclaimed. “Please explain
+how you managed, when I have been
+watching for you and Margaret all morning,
+to arrive without my knowing?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But we have not arrived, and I hope
+you won’t be too greatly disappointed at
+my coming alone. You see it is like this.
+I happened to be calling on Miss Adams
+when your note came and she told me
+that I had been included in your invitation.
+Well, it was impossible for Miss Adams to
+spend this week end with you as she was
+going off on a yachting party with some of
+her rich admirers, so I decided to run down
+and see you alone. It was not so remarkable
+my coming upon you unawares, since I
+walked out from the village. Please do
+sit down again and tell me you are glad to
+see me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly sat down as she was bid, and Richard
+Hunt, dropping on the ground near
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span>
+her, took off his hat, leaning his head on
+his hand like a tired boy.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Come, hurry, you haven’t said you
+were glad yet, Miss Polly,” he protested.
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly’s eyes searched the dark ones
+turned half-teasingly and half-admiringly
+toward her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you mean, Mr. Hunt, that you
+came all the way from New York to Woodford
+just to see me?” she asked wonderingly.
+“And that you came alone, without Margaret
+or any one else?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her companion laughed, pushing back
+the iron gray hair from his forehead, for his
+long walk had been a warm one.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do assure you I haven’t a single
+acquaintance concealed anywhere about
+me,” he declared. “But just the same I
+don’t see why you should feel so surprised.
+Don’t you know that I would travel a
+good many miles to spend an hour alone
+with you, instead of a long and blissful
+day. Of course I am almost old enough to
+be your father——”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You’re not,” Polly interrupted rather
+irritably. Yet in spite of her protest she
+was feeling curiously shy and self-conscious
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span>
+and Polly was unaccustomed to either of
+these two emotions. Then, just in order
+to have something to do, she carelessly
+drew the bunch of corn flowers from her
+belt and held them close against her hot
+cheeks.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Hunt,” she began after a moment
+of awkward silence, “don’t think
+I am rude, but please do not say things
+to me like—” the girl hesitated—“like
+that last thing; I mean your being willing
+to travel many miles to spend an hour
+alone with me. You have always been
+so kind that I have thought of you as my
+real friend, but of course if you begin to
+be insincere and flatter me as you would
+some one whom you did not honestly
+like, I——”
+</p>
+<p>
+Polly ceased talking at this instant because
+Richard Hunt had risen quickly to
+his feet and put forth his hand to assist
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Let us go on to your cabin,” he replied
+gravely. “You are right. I should not
+have said a thing like that to you. But
+you are wrong, Polly, in believing I was
+insincere. You see, I grew to be pretty
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span>
+fond of you last winter and very proud,
+seeing with what courage you fought your
+battles alone.” Richard Hunt paused,
+walking on a few paces in silence. “I
+shall not worry you with the affection
+of a man so much older than you are,”
+he continued as though having at last
+made up his mind to say all that was in
+his heart and be through. “Only at all
+times and under all circumstances, no
+matter what happens, you are to remember,
+Polly, that you are and always shall be
+first with me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I—you,” the girl faltered. “Why I
+thought you cared for Margaret. I never
+dreamed—” then somehow Polly, who had
+always so much to say, could not even
+finish her sentence.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, of course you never did,” the
+man replied gravely. “Still, I want you
+to know that Margaret and I have never
+thought of being anything but the best
+of friends. Now let us talk of something
+else, only tell me first that you are not
+angry and we will never speak of this
+again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I am not displeased,” Polly faltered, looking
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span>
+and feeling absurdly young
+and inadequate to the importance of the
+situation.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then, walking on and keeping step with
+her companion, suddenly a new world
+seemed to have spread itself before her
+eyes. Shyly she stole a glance at her tall
+companion, and then laid her hand coaxingly
+on his coat sleeve.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you please stop a minute. I want
+to explain something to you,” she asked.
+Polly’s expression was intensely serious;
+she had never been more in earnest; all
+the color seemed to have gone from her
+face so as to leave her eyes the more
+deeply blue.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You see, Mr. Hunt, I never, never
+intend marrying any one. I mean to devote
+all my life to my profession and I
+have never thought of anything else since
+I was a little girl.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Gravely Richard Hunt nodded. Not
+for an instant did his face betray any
+doubt of Polly’s decision in regard to her
+future. Then Polly laughed and her eyes
+changed from their former seriousness to
+a look of the gayest and most charming
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span>
+camaraderie. “Still, Mr. Hunt, if you
+really did mean what you said just now,
+why I don’t believe I shall mind if we
+do speak of it some day again. Of course
+I am not in love with you, but——”
+</p>
+<p>
+Richard Hunt slipped the girl’s arm
+inside his. There was something in his
+face that gave Polly a sense of strength
+and quiet such as she had never felt in
+all her restless, ambitious girlhood.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I understand,” he answered. “But
+look there, Polly, isn’t that Sunrise Hill
+over there and your beloved little cabin
+in the distance? And aren’t we glad
+to be alive in this wonderful world?”
+</p>
+<p>
+The girl’s voice was like a song. “I
+never knew what it meant to be really
+alive until this minute,” she whispered.
+</p>
+<p>
+The sixth volume of the Camp Fire Girls
+Series will be known as “The Camp Fire
+Girls in After Years.” In this story the
+girls will appear as wives and mothers.
+Also it will reveal the fact that romance
+does not end with marriage, and that in
+many cases a woman’s life story is only
+beginning upon her wedding day. There will
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span>
+be new characters, a new plot and new love
+interests as well, but in the main the theme
+will follow the fortunes of the same group
+of girls who years ago formed a Camp Fire
+club and lived, worked and loved under the
+shadow of Sunrise Hill.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by 
+Margaret Vandercook
+
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by Margaret Vandercook
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+
+Author: Margaret Vandercook
+
+Release Date: May 26, 2011 [EBook #36229]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Roger Frank, Larry B. Harrison and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+                      BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK
+
+
+                         THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES
+
+               The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge
+               The Ranch Girls' Pot of Gold
+               The Ranch Girls at Boarding School
+               The Ranch Girls in Europe
+               The Ranch Girls at Home Again
+               The Ranch Girls and their Great Adventure
+
+
+                       THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES
+
+            The Red Cross Girls in the British Trenches
+            The Red Cross Girls on the French Firing Line
+            The Red Cross Girls in Belgium
+            The Red Cross Girls with the Russian Army
+            The Red Cross Girls with the Italian Army
+            The Red Cross Girls Under the Stars and Stripes
+
+
+                     STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
+
+              The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill
+              The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows
+              The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World
+              The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea
+              The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+              The Camp Fire Girls in After Years
+              The Camp Fire Girls in the Desert
+              The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the Trail
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "I Am Sorry," Billy Replied]
+
+
+
+
+THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS
+
+BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK
+
+Author of "The Ranch Girls Series," etc.
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+PHILADELPHIA
+
+THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
+
+PUBLISHERS
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1915, by
+
+The John C. Winston Company
+
+
+
+
+                     STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
+
+                              Six Volumes
+
+                The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill
+                The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows
+                The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World
+                The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea
+                The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+                The Camp Fire Girls in After Years
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+           CHAPTER                                         PAGE
+                I. Success or Failure?                        7
+               II. "Belinda"                                 17
+              III. Friends and Enemies                       33
+               IV. Farewell!                                 43
+                V. Other Girls                               55
+               VI. The Fire-Maker's Desire                   82
+              VII. "The Flames in the Wind"                  74
+             VIII. Afternoon Tea and a Mystery               83
+               IX. Preparations                              94
+                X. More Puzzles                             105
+               XI. A Christmas Song and Recognition         119
+              XII. After Her Fashion Polly Explains         133
+             XIII. A Place of Memories                      149
+              XIV. A Sudden Summons                         163
+               XV. "Little Old New York"                    174
+              XVI. "Moira"                                  185
+             XVII. A Reunion                                195
+            XVIII. Home Again                               209
+              XIX. Illusions Swept Away                     218
+               XX. Two Engagements                          233
+              XXI. At the Turn of the Road                  243
+
+
+
+
+                             ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+    "I Am Sorry," Billy Replied                         Frontispiece
+    Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion              13
+    She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar              63
+    "Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?"         151
+
+
+
+
+The Camp Fire Girls' Careers
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I--Success or Failure
+
+
+The entire theater was in darkness but for a single light burning at one
+corner of the bare stage, where stood a man and girl.
+
+"Now once more, Miss Polly, please," the man said encouragingly. "That
+last try had a bit more life in it. Only do remember that you are
+supposed to be amusing, and don't wear such a tragic expression."
+
+Then a stiff figure, very young, very thin, and with a tense white face,
+moved backward half a dozen steps, only to stumble awkwardly forward the
+next instant with both hands pressed tight together.
+
+"I can't--I can't find it," she began uncertainly, "I have searched----"
+
+Lifting her eyes at this moment to her companion's, Polly O'Neill burst
+into tears.
+
+"I am a hopeless, abject failure, Mr. Hunt, and I shall never, never
+learn to act in a thousand years. There is no use in your trying to
+teach me, for if we remain at the theater for the rest of the day I
+shall make exactly the same mistakes tonight. Oh, how can I possibly
+play a funny character when my teeth are positively chattering with
+fright even at a rehearsal? It is sheer madness, my daring to appear
+with you and Margaret Adams before a first-night New York audience and
+in a new play. Even if I have only a tiny part, I can manage to make
+just as great a mess of it. Why, why did I ever dream I wished to have a
+career, I wonder. I only want to go back home this minute to Woodford
+and never stir a step away from that blessed village as long as I live."
+
+"Heigho, says Mistress Polly," quoted her companion and then waited
+without smiling while the girl dried her tears.
+
+"But you felt very differently from this several years ago when you
+acted with me in The Castle of Life," he argued in a reassuring tone.
+"Besides, you were then very young and had not had two years of dramatic
+training. I was amazed at your self-confidence, and now I don't
+understand why you should feel so much more nervous."
+
+Polly squared her slender shoulders. "Yes you do, Mr. Hunt," she
+insisted, bluntly. "However, if you really don't understand, I think I
+can make you see in a moment. Four years ago when I behaved like a
+naughty child and without letting my friends or family know acted the
+part of the fairy of the woods in the Christmas pantomime, I had not the
+faintest idea of what a serious thing I was attempting. I did not even
+dream of how many mistakes I could make. Besides, that was only a
+school-girl prank and I never thought that any one in the audience might
+know me. But now, why at this moment I can hear dozens of people
+whispering: 'See that girl on the stage there taking the character of
+the maid, Belinda; she is Polly O'Neill. You may remember that she is
+one of the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls and for years has been
+worrying her family to let her become an actress. I don't believe she
+will ever make a success. Really, she is the worst stick I ever saw on
+the stage!'"
+
+And so real had her imaginary critic become that Polly shuddered and
+then clasped her hands together in a tragic fashion.
+
+"Then think of my poor mother and my sister, Mollie, and Betty Ashton
+and a dozen or more of my old Camp Fire friends who have come to New
+York to see me make my debut tonight! Can't you tell Miss Adams I am
+ill; isn't there some one who can take my place? I really am ill, you
+know, Mr. Hunt," Polly pleaded, the tears again starting to her eyes.
+
+Since Polly's return from the summer in Europe, two years of eager
+ambition and hard work had been spent in a difficult training. As a
+result she looked older and more fragile. This morning her face was
+characteristically pale and the two bright patches of color usually
+burning on her cheek bones had vanished. Her chin had become so pointed
+that it seemed almost elfish, and her head appeared too small for its
+heavy crown of jet-black hair. Indeed, at this time in her life, in the
+opinion of strangers, only the blueness of her eyes with the Irish
+shadows underneath saved the girl from positive plainness. To her
+friends, of course, she was always just Polly and so beyond criticism.
+
+Having finally through years of persuasion and Margaret Adams' added
+influence won her mother's consent to follow the stage for her
+profession, Polly had come to New York, where she devoted every possible
+hour of the day and night to her work. There had been hundreds of
+lessons in physical culture, in learning to walk properly and to sit
+down. Still more important had been the struggle with the pronunciation
+of even the simplest words, besides the hundred and one minor lessons of
+which the outsider never dreams. Polly had continued patient,
+hard-working and determined. No longer did she give performances of
+Juliet, draped in a red tablecloth, before audiences of admiring girls.
+
+Never for a moment since their first meeting at the Camp Fire play in
+Sunrise Hill cabin had Margaret Adams ceased to show a deep interest in
+the wayward, ambitious and often unreliable Polly. She it was who had
+recommended the school in New York City and the master under whom Polly
+was to make her stage preparations. And here at the first possible
+moment Margaret Adams had offered her the chance for a debut under the
+most auspicious conditions.
+
+The play was a clever farce called A Woman's Wit, and especially written
+for the celebrated actress, who was to be supported by Richard Hunt,
+Polly's former acquaintance, as leading man.
+
+Of course the play had been in rehearsal for several weeks; but Polly
+had been convinced that her own work had been growing poorer and poorer
+as each day went by.
+
+"Look here, Miss O'Neill," a voice said harshly, and Polly stopped
+shaking to glance at her companion in surprise. During the last few
+months she and Richard Hunt had renewed their acquaintance and in every
+possible way Mr. Hunt had been kind and helpful. Yet now his manner had
+suddenly grown stern and forbidding.
+
+[Illustration: Polly Stopped Shaking to Glance at Her Companion]
+
+"You are talking wildly and absurdly and like a foolish child instead of
+a woman," he said coldly. "Surely you must know that you are having a
+rare chance tonight because of Miss Adams' friendship and you must not
+disappoint her. If you fail to succeed, that will be unfortunate, but if
+you run away--" Suddenly Richard Hunt laughed. What a ridiculous
+suggestion! Of course Polly had only been talking in a silly school-girl
+fashion without any idea of being taken seriously.
+
+"Good-by, Miss Polly, and cheer up," Richard Hunt finally said, holding
+out his hand, his manner friendly once more; for after all she was only
+a frightened child and he was at least ten years her senior. "Doubtless
+you'll put us all to shame tonight and Belinda will be the success of
+the evening." Then as he moved away toward the stage door he added, "It
+was absurd of me to be so annoyed, but do you know, for a moment you
+made me believe you really thought of running away. What about the Camp
+Fire law of that famous club to which you once belonged? Did it not tell
+you to be trustworthy and not to undertake an enterprise rashly, but,
+having undertaken it, to complete it unflinchingly. Do go home now and
+rest, child, things are sure to turn out splendidly." And with a smile
+of sympathy the man walked away.
+
+So in another moment Polly was standing alone on an otherwise empty
+stage, torn with indecision and dread. Was Mr. Hunt right in believing
+that she had uttered only an idle threat in saying that she meant to run
+away? Yet would it not be wiser to disappear than to make an utter
+failure of her part tonight and be unable either to move or speak when
+the eyes of the audience were fixed expectantly upon her?
+
+Slowly the girl walked toward the door, her face scarlet one moment,
+then like chalk the next. She could hear the scene-shifters moving about
+and realized that she would soon be in their way. But what should she
+do? Polly realized that if she went to her boarding place her mother and
+Mollie would be there waiting for her and then there could be no
+possible chance of escape.
+
+Always Polly O'Neill had permitted herself to yield to sudden, nearly
+uncontrollable impulses. Should she do so now? In the last few years she
+believed she had acquired more self-control, better judgment. Yet in
+this panic of fear they had vanished once more. Of course Miss Adams
+would never forgive her, and no one would have any respect for her
+again. All this the girl realized and yet at the moment nothing appeared
+so dreadful as walking out on the stage and repeating the dozen or more
+sentences required of her. Rather would she have faced the guillotine.
+
+"'Finvarra and their land of heart's desire,'" Polly quoted softly and
+scornfully to herself. Well, she had been hoping that she was to reach
+the land of her heart's desire tonight. Was this not to be the beginning
+of the stage career for which she had worked and prayed and dreamed?
+
+Out on the street Polly was now walking blindly ahead. She had at last
+reached her decision, and yet how could she ever arrange to carry it
+out?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II--"Belinda"
+
+
+It was twenty-five minutes past eight o'clock and at half-past eight the
+curtain was to rise on the first performance of A Woman's Wit, written
+especially for Margaret Adams. And because of her popularity and that of
+her leading man, the house had been sold out weeks in advance.
+
+The action of the play was to take place in a small town in Colorado,
+where a man and his wife were both endeavoring to be elected to the
+office of Mayor. Polly was to play the part of a clever little
+shop-girl, whom the heroine had brought into her home, supposedly as a
+parlor maid. But in reality the girl was to do all that was in her power
+to assist her mistress in gaining a victory over her husband. She was to
+watch his movements and to suggest any schemes that she might devise for
+their success.
+
+In the act which Polly had recently been rehearsing she was engaged in
+trying to discover a political speech written by the hero, so that the
+wife might read it beforehand and so answer it in a convincing fashion
+before the evening meeting of the Woman's Club. The play was a witty
+farce, and Belinda was supposedly one of the cleverest and most amusing
+characters. Yet whether Polly could succeed in making her appear so was
+still exceedingly doubtful.
+
+With this idea in mind Richard Hunt left his dressing room, hoping to
+see Polly for a few moments if possible before the play began. Perhaps
+her fright had passed. For already the man and girl were sufficiently
+intimate friends for him to understand how swiftly her moods changed.
+
+Polly had apparently left her dressing room, since there was no answer
+to repeated knockings. She could not have carried out her threat of the
+morning? Of course such a supposition was an absurdity. And yet the
+man's frown relaxed and his smile was one of unconscious relief when a
+tall, delicate figure in a blue dress came hurrying toward him along the
+dimly-lighted passage-way. The girl did not seem aware of anything or
+anybody, so great was her hurry and nervousness. However, this was not
+unreasonable, for instead of having on her maid's costume for the
+performance, she was wearing an evening gown of shimmering silk and in
+the coiled braids of her black hair a single pink rose.
+
+"You are late, Miss Polly; may I find some one to help you dress?"
+
+Instantly a pair of blue eyes were turned toward him in surprise and
+reproach. They were probably not such intensely blue eyes as Polly
+O'Neill's and they had a far gentler expression, though they were of
+exactly the same shape. And the girl's hair was equally black, her
+figure and carriage almost similar, except that she was less thin. But
+instead of Polly's accustomed pallor this girl's cheeks were as
+delicately flushed as the rose in her hair. "Could an evening costume so
+metamorphose a human being?" Richard Hunt wondered in a vaguely puzzled,
+uncertain fashion.
+
+A small hand was thrust forward without the least sign of haste,
+although it trembled a little from shyness.
+
+"I'm not Polly, Mr. Hunt," the girl said smiling. "I am Mollie, her twin
+sister. But you must not mistake us, because even if we do look alike,
+we are not in the least alike in other ways. For one thing, I wouldn't
+be in Polly O'Neill's shoes tonight, not for this whole world with a
+fence around it. How can she do such a horrible thing as to be an
+actress? Polly considers that I haven't a spark of ambition, but why on
+earth should a sensible girl want a career?"
+
+Suddenly Mollie blushed until her cheeks were pinker than before. "Oh, I
+am so sorry! I forgot for the moment that you were an actor, Mr. Hunt.
+Of course things are very different with you. A man must have a career!
+But I ought to apologize for talking to you without our having met each
+other. You see, Polly has spoken of you so many times, saying how kind
+you had been in trying to help her, that I thought for the instant I
+actually did know you. Forgive me, and now I must find Polly."
+
+Mollie was always shy, but realizing all at once how much she had
+confided to a stranger, she felt overwhelmed with embarrassment. How the
+other girls would laugh if they ever learned of what she had said. Yet
+Mr. Hunt was not laughing at her, nor did he appear in the least
+offended. Mollie was sure he must be as kind as Polly had declared him,
+although he did look older than she had expected and must be quite
+thirty, as his hair was beginning to turn gray at the temples and there
+were heavy lines about the corners of his mouth. As Mollie now turned
+the handle of her sister's dressing-room door she was hoping that her
+new acquaintance had not noticed how closely she had studied him.
+
+However, she need not have worried, for her companion was only thinking
+of how pretty she was and yet how oddly like her twin sister. For Mollie
+seemed to possess the very graces that Polly lacked. Evidently she was
+more amiable, better poised and more reliable, her figure was more
+attractive, her color prettier and her manner gracious and appealing.
+
+"I am afraid you won't find your sister in there, Miss O'Neill. I have
+knocked several times without an answer," Richard Hunt finally
+interposed.
+
+"Won't find her?" Mollie repeated the words in consternation. "Then
+where on earth is she? Miss Adams sent me to tell Polly that she wished
+to speak to her for half a moment before the curtain went up. Besides,
+Miss Ashton has already searched everywhere for her for quite ten
+minutes and then came back to her seat in the theater, having had to
+give up."
+
+Forcibly Mollie now turned the handle of the door and peered in. The
+small room was unoccupied, as the other two members of the company who
+shared it with Polly, having dressed some time before, had also
+disappeared.
+
+But Richard Hunt could wait no longer to assist in discovering the
+wanderer. Five minutes had passed, so that his presence would soon be
+required upon the stage. Surely if Polly had failed to appear at the
+theater her sister would be aware of it. Yet there was still a chance
+that she had sent a hurried message to the stage director so that her
+character could be played by an understudy. Even Polly would scarcely
+wreck the play by simply failing at the last moment.
+
+He was vaguely uneasy. He had been interested in Polly, first because of
+their chance acquaintance several years before when they both acted in
+The Castle of Life, and also because of Miss Adams' deep affection for
+her protege. The man had been unable to decide whether Polly had any
+talent for the career which she professed to care for so greatly.
+
+Now and then during the frequent rehearsals of their new play she had
+done very well. But the very day after a clever performance she was more
+than apt to give a poor one until the stage manager had almost
+despaired. Nevertheless Richard Hunt acknowledged to himself that there
+was something about the girl that made one unable to forget her. She was
+so intense, loving and hating, laughing and crying with her whole soul.
+Whatever her fate in after years, one could not believe that it would be
+an entirely conventional one.
+
+His cue had been called and Miss Adams was already on the stage. In a
+quarter of an hour when Belinda was summoned by her mistress, he would
+know whether or not Polly had feigned illness or whether she had kept
+her threat and ignominiously run away.
+
+The moment came. A door swung abruptly forward at the rear of the stage
+and through it a girl entered swiftly. She was dressed in a
+tight-fitting gray frock with black silk stockings and slippers. There
+was a tiny white cap on her head and she wore a small fluted apron. She
+looked very young, very clever and graceful. And it was Polly O'Neill,
+and Polly at her best!
+
+For the briefest instant Richard Hunt and Margaret Adams exchanged
+glances. It was obvious that Margaret Adams had also been uneasy over
+her favorite's debut. For her eyes brightened and she nodded
+encouragingly as the little maid set down the tray she was carrying with
+a bang and then turned saucily to speak to her master. A laugh from the
+audience followed her first speech.
+
+The Polly of the morning had completely vanished. This girl's cheeks
+were crimson, her eyes danced with excitement and vivacity. She was
+fairly sparkling with Irish wit and grace and, best of all, she appeared
+entirely unafraid.
+
+It was not alone Polly O'Neill's two comparatively new friends upon the
+stage with her, who now felt relieved from anxiety by her clever
+entrance. More than a dozen persons in the audience forming a large
+theater party occupying the sixth and seventh rows in the orchestra
+chairs, breathed inaudible sighs of relief.
+
+There sat Betty Ashton and Dick and Esther, who had come down from
+Boston to New York City for Polly's debut. Next Betty was a handsome,
+grave young man, who had only a few days before been elected to the New
+Hampshire Legislature by the residents of Woodford and the surrounding
+country, Anthony Graham. On his other side eat his sister, Nan, a
+dark-eyed, dark-haired girl with a quiet, refined manner. Near by and
+staring straight ahead through a pair of large, gold-rimmed spectacles
+was another girl with sandy hair, light blue eyes, a square jaw and a
+determined, serious expression. Nothing did Sylvia Wharton take lightly,
+and least of all the success or failure tonight of her adored
+step-sister. For Sylvia's ardent affection for Polly had never wavered
+since the early Camp Fire days at Sunrise Hill. And while she often
+disapproved of her and freely told her so, as she had then, still Polly
+knew that Sylvia could always be counted on through good and ill.
+
+So far as the younger girl's own work was concerned there was little
+doubt of her success. Each year she had been at the head of her class in
+the training school for nurses and had since taken up the study of
+medicine. For Sylvia had never cared for frivolities, for beaus or
+dancing or ordinary good times. Polly often used to say that she would
+like to shake her younger step-sister for her utter seriousness, yet
+Sylvia rarely replied that she might have other and better reasons for
+administering the same discipline to Polly.
+
+Back of this party of six friends Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, Polly's mother
+and stepfather, her sister Mollie and Billy Webster were seated. Billy,
+however, was no longer called by this youthful title except by his most
+intimate friends. He had never since the day Polly had teased him
+concerning it, asking him how it felt to be a shadowy imitation of a
+great man, used the name of Daniel. He was known to the people in
+Woodford and the neighborhood as William Webster, since Billy's father
+had died a year before and he now had the entire management of their
+large and successful farm. Indeed, the young man was considered one of
+the most expert of the new school of scientific farmers in his section
+of the country. And although Billy undoubtedly looked like a country
+fellow, there was no denying that he was exceedingly handsome. He was
+six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an erect carriage; his skin was
+tanned by the sun and wind, making his eyes appear more deeply blue and
+his hair almost the color of copper. Now seated next to Mollie he was
+endeavoring to make her less nervous, although any one could have seen
+he was equally nervous himself.
+
+Frank Wharton and Eleanor Meade, who were to be married in a few months,
+were together, and next came yellow-haired Meg and her brother, John.
+Then only a few places away Rose and Dr. Barton and Faith, the youngest
+of the former group of Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls, who had been
+adopted by her former guardian and now was known by Dr. Barton's name.
+Faith was an unusual-looking girl, with the palest gold hair which she
+wore tied back with a black velvet ribbon. She had a curious, far-away
+expression in her great blue eyes and the simplicity of a little child.
+For Faith had never ceased her odd fashion of living in dreams, so that
+the real world was yet an unexplored country to her. Indeed, in her
+quaint short-waisted white muslin frock, with a tiny fan and a bunch of
+country flowers in her hand, she might have sat as one of the models for
+Arthur Rackham's spiritual, half-fairy children. Tonight she was even
+more quiet than usual, since this was the first time she had ever been
+inside a theater in her life. And had it not been for the reality of
+Polly O'Neill's presence, one of her very own group of Camp Fire girls,
+she must have thought herself on a different planet.
+
+Herr and Frau Krippen had not been able to leave Woodford for this great
+occasion, since they boasted a very small and very new baby, with hair
+as red as its father's and as Esther's. But otherwise it looked
+singularly like the first of the Sunrise Hill Camp Fire guardians, the
+Miss Martha, whom the girls had then believed fore-ordained to eternal
+old-maidenhood.
+
+So on this eventful night in her career, Polly O'Neill's old friends and
+family were certainly well represented. Fortunately, however, she had so
+far given no thought to their presence.
+
+Now Belinda must rush frantically about on the stage, making a pretext
+of dusting the while she is eagerly listening to the conversation taking
+place between her master and mistress. Then in another moment they both
+leave the stage and Polly at last has her real opportunity. For with
+Margaret Adams present, naturally the chief attention of the audience
+would be concentrated upon her with her talent, her magnetism and her
+great reputation.
+
+Yet as Miss Adams slipped away with a fleeting and encouraging lifting
+of her eyebrows toward her little maid, suddenly Polly O'Neill felt that
+the hour of her final reckoning had come. Curiously, until now she had
+not been self-conscious nor frightened; not for an instant had she been
+pursued by the terrors that had so harassed her all day that she had
+made a dozen plans to escape. Yet with the attention of the large
+audience suddenly riveted upon her alone, they were returning like a
+thousand fiends.
+
+Polly felt like an atom surrounded by infinite space, like a spot of
+light in an eternity of darkness. Her voice had gone, her limbs were
+stiff, yet automatically she continued her dusting for a moment longer,
+hoping that a miracle might turn her into a human being again. Useless:
+her voice would never return, her legs felt as if they belonged to a
+figure in Mrs. Jarley's waxworks.
+
+One could not devote the entire evening polishing the stage furniture!
+Already she could hear the agonized voice of the prompter whispering her
+lines, which he naturally supposed her to have forgotten.
+
+In some fashion Polly must have dragged herself to the spot on the stage
+where she had been previously instructed to stand, and there somehow she
+must have succeeded in repeating the few sentences required of her,
+although she never knew how she did the one or the other; for soon the
+other players made their proper entrances and the unhappy Belinda was
+allowed to withdraw.
+
+Yet although Polly could never clearly recall the events on the stage
+during these few moments, of one thing she was absolutely conscious. By
+some wretched accident she had glanced appealingly down, hoping to find
+encouragement in the face of her mother, sister, or Betty Ashton.
+Instead, however, she had caught the blue eyes of her old antagonist,
+Billy Webster, fixed upon her with such an expression of consternation,
+sympathy and amusement that she was never to forget the look for the
+rest of her life.
+
+In the final scene, the one so diligently rehearsed during the morning,
+Belinda did not make such a complete failure. But, as she slipped away
+to her dressing room at the close of the performance, Polly O'Neill
+knew, before tongue or pen could set it down, the verdict that must
+follow her long-desired stage debut. Alas, that in this world there are
+many of us unlike Caesar: we come, we see, but we do not conquer!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III--Friends and Enemies
+
+
+Standing outside in the dark passage for a moment, Polly hesitated with
+her hand on the door-knob, having already opened the door a few inches.
+From the inside she could plainly hear the voices of the two girls who
+shared the dressing room with her. Neither one of them had an important
+place in the cast. They merely came on in one of the scenes as members
+of a group and without speaking. However, they were both clever,
+ambitious girls whom Polly liked. Now her attention had been arrested by
+hearing the sound of her own name.
+
+"Polly O'Neill was a dreadful failure, wasn't she?" one of them was
+saying. "Well, I am not in the least surprised. Indeed, it was just what
+I expected. Of course, she was only given the part of Belinda because of
+favoritism. Miss Adams is such a great friend of hers!"
+
+Then before Polly could make her presence known the second girl replied:
+
+"So far as I can see, Polly O'Neill has never shown a particle of
+ability at any of the rehearsals that would justify her being placed
+over the rest of us. I am sure that either you or I would have done far
+better. But never mind; perhaps some day we may be famous actresses and
+she nothing at all, when there is no Miss Adams to help her along."
+
+But at this same instant Polly walked into the room.
+
+"I am so sorry I overheard what you said, but it was entirely my fault,
+not yours," she began directly. "Only please don't think I intended to
+be eavesdropping. It was quite an accident my appearing just at the
+wrong moment. Of course I am hurt by your thinking I acted Belinda so
+poorly. Perhaps one of you would have been more successful. But do
+please understand that I realize perfectly that I had the chance given
+me because of Miss Adams' friendship and not because of my own talents."
+Then, though Polly's cheeks were flaming during her long speech and her
+tones not always steady, she smiled at her companions in entire good
+fellowship.
+
+Immediately the older girl, walking across the floor, laid her hand on
+Polly's shoulder. "I am not going to take back all I said a while ago,
+for I meant a part of it," she declared half apologetically and half
+with bravado. "Honestly, I don't think you were very good as Belinda.
+But I have seen you act rather well at rehearsals now and then. I think
+you failed tonight because you suddenly grew so frightened. Don't be
+discouraged; goodness knows it has happened to many an actor before who
+afterwards became famous," she ended in an effort to be comforting.
+
+"Yes, and it is all very well for us to talk here in our dressing rooms
+about being more successful than you were," the second girl added, "but
+there is no way of our proving that we would not have had even worse
+cases of stage fright." She gave Polly's hand a gentle squeeze. "Of
+course, you must know we are both jealous of Miss Adams' affection for
+you or we would never have been such horrid cats." The girl blushed. "Do
+try and forget what we said, it was horrid not to have been kinder and
+more sympathetic. You may have a chance to pay us back with interest
+some day. Anyhow, you are a splendid sport not to be angry. I am sure it
+is the people who take things as you have this who will win out in the
+end."
+
+Then no one referred to the subject again. For it was plain that Polly
+was exhausted and that her nerves had nearly reached the breaking point.
+Instead, both girls now did their best to assist her in taking off the
+costume of the ill-fated Belinda and in getting into an ordinary street
+costume. For Polly was to meet her family and friends in a small
+reception room adjoining Miss Adams' dressing room, five minutes after
+the close of the play. She would have preferred to have marched up to
+the cannon's mouth, and she was much too tired at present either for
+congratulations or censure. She heard Mollie and Betty Ashton coming
+toward the door to seek for her.
+
+Of course they were both immediately enthusiastic over Polly's debut and
+were sure that she had been a pronounced success. For in the minds of
+her sister and friend, Polly was simply incapable of failure. And
+perhaps they did succeed in making the rest of the evening easier for
+her. But then all of her old Camp Fire and Woodford friends were as kind
+as possible. To have one of their own girls acting on a real stage
+seemed fame enough in itself.
+
+But from two of her friends, from Sylvia Wharton and from Billy Webster,
+Polly received the truth as they saw it. Sylvia's came with spoken
+words, and Billy's by a more painful silence.
+
+As Polly entered the room, Sylvia came forward, and kissed her solemnly.
+The two girls had not seen each other for a number of weeks. Sylvia had
+only arrived in New York a few hours before.
+
+"You were dreadfully nervous, Polly, just as I thought you would be,"
+Sylvia remarked quietly, holding her step-sister's attention by the
+intensity and concentration of her gaze behind the gold-rimmed
+spectacles. "Now I am afraid you are fearfully tired and upset. I do
+wish you would go home immediately and go to bed instead of talking to
+all these people. But I suppose you have already decided because you did
+not act as well as you expected this evening that you will never do any
+better. Promise me to be reasonable this one time, Polly, and may I see
+you alone and have a talk with you tomorrow?"
+
+Then there was only time for the older girl to nod agreement and to
+place her hot hand for an instant into Sylvia's large, strong one, that
+already had a kind of healing touch.
+
+For Mrs. Wharton was now demanding her daughter's attention, wishing to
+introduce her to friends. Since she had finally made up her mind to
+allow Polly to try her fate as an actress, Mrs. Wharton had no doubt of
+her ultimate brilliant success.
+
+Five minutes afterwards, quite by accident, Richard Hunt found himself
+standing near enough to Polly to feel that he must also say something in
+regard to her debut.
+
+"I am glad Belinda did not run away today, Miss Polly," he whispered.
+"Do you know I almost believed she intended to for a few moments this
+morning?" And the man smiled at the absurdity of his idea.
+
+Polly glanced quickly up toward her companion, a warm flush coloring her
+tired face. "It might have been better for the play if I had, Mr. Hunt,
+I'm a-thinking," she answered with a mellow Irish intonation in the low
+tones of her voice. "But you need not think I did not mean what I said.
+Don't tell on me, but I had a ticket bought and my bag packed and all my
+plans made for running away and then at the last even I could not be
+quite such a coward." The girl's expression changed. "Perhaps, after
+all, I may yet be forced into using that ticket some day," she added,
+half laughing and half serious, as she turned to speak to some one else
+who had joined them.
+
+For another idle moment the man still thought of his recent companion.
+How much or how little of her rash statements did the child mean? Yet he
+might have spared himself the trouble of this reflection, for this
+question about Polly was never to be satisfactorily answered.
+
+Although by this time the greater number of persons in Margaret Adams'
+reception room had spoken to Polly either to say kind things or the
+reverse, there was, however, one individual who had devoted his best
+efforts to avoiding her. Yet there had never been such an occasion
+before tonight. For whether he chanced to be angry with her at the
+moment or pleased, Billy Webster had always enjoyed the opportunity of
+talking to Polly, since she always stirred his deepest emotions, no
+matter what the emotions chanced to be. Tonight he had no desire to
+repeat the fatal words, "I told you so."
+
+Of course he had always known that Polly O'Neill would never be a
+successful actress; she was far too erratic, too emotional. If only she
+had been sensible for once and listened to him that day in the woods
+long ago! Suddenly Billy squared his broad shoulders and closed his firm
+young lips. For, separating herself from every one else, Polly was
+actually marching directly toward him, and she had ever an uncanny
+fashion of guessing what was going on in other people's heads.
+
+Underneath his country tan Billy Webster blushed furiously and honestly.
+
+"You think I was a rank failure, don't you?" Polly demanded at once.
+
+Still speechless, the young man nodded his head.
+
+"You don't believe I ever will do much better?" Again Billy nodded
+agreement.
+
+"And that I had much better have stayed at home in Woodford and learned
+to cook and sew and--and--well, some day try to be somebody's wife?" the
+girl ended a little breathlessly.
+
+This time Billy Webster did not mince matters. "I most assuredly do," he
+answered with praiseworthy bluntness.
+
+Now for the first time since her fiasco as Belinda, Polly's eyes flashed
+with something of their old fire. And there in the presence of the
+company, though unheeded by them, she stamped her foot just as she
+always had as a naughty child.
+
+"I will succeed, Billy Webster, I will, I will! I don't care how many
+failures I may make in learning! And just because I want to be a good
+actress is no reason why I can't marry some day, if there is any man in
+the world who could both love and understand me and who would not wish
+to make me over according to his own particular pattern." Then Polly
+smiled. "Thank you a thousand times, though, Billy, for you are the
+solitary person who has done me any good tonight. It is quite like old
+times, isn't it, for us to start quarreling as soon as we meet. But,
+farewell, I must go home now and to bed." Polly held out her hand. "You
+are an obstinate soul, Billy, but I can't help admiring you for the
+steadfast way in which you disapprove of me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV--Farewell!
+
+
+Margaret Adams was in her private sitting room in her own home, an
+old-fashioned red brick house near Washington Square. She had been
+writing letters for more than an hour and had just seated herself in a
+big chair and closed her eyes. She looked very young and tiny at this
+instant to be such a great lady. Her silk morning dress was only a shade
+lighter than the rose-colored chair.
+
+Suddenly ten fingers were lightly laid over her eyes.
+
+"Guess who I am or I shall never release you," a rich, soft voice
+demanded, and Margaret Adams drew the fingers down and kissed them.
+
+"Silly Polly, as if it could be any one else? What ever made you come
+out in this rain, child? You had a cold, anyway, and it is a perfectly
+beastly day."
+
+Instead of replying, Polly sat down in front of a small, open fire,
+putting her toes up on the fender.
+
+"You are a hospitable lady," she remarked finally, "but I am not wet
+specially. I left my damp things down stairs so as not to bring them
+into this pretty room. It always makes me think of the rose lining to a
+cloud; one could never have the blues in here."
+
+The room was charming. The walls were delicately pink, almost flesh
+color, with a deeper pink border above. A few original paintings were
+hung in a low line--one of an orchard with apple trees in spring bloom.
+The mantel was of white Italian marble with a bust of Dante's Beatrice
+upon it and this morning it also held a vase of roses. Over near the
+window a desk of inlaid mahogany was littered with letters, papers,
+writing materials and photographs. On a table opposite the newest
+magazines and books were carefully arranged, together with a framed
+photograph of Polly and Margaret Adams' taken when they were in London
+several years before. There was also a photograph of Richard Hunt and
+several others of distinguished men and women who were devoted friends
+of the famous actress.
+
+A big, rose-colored divan was piled with a number of silk and velvet
+cushions of pale green and rose. Then there were other odd chairs and
+tables and shaded lamps and curtains of rose-colored damask hung over
+white net. But the room was neither too beautiful nor fanciful to be
+homelike and comfortable. Two or three ugly things Margaret Adams still
+kept near her for old associations' sake and these alone, Polly
+insisted, made it possible for her to come into this room. For she, too,
+was an ugly thing, allowed to stay there now and then because of past
+association.
+
+Polly was not looking particularly well today. She had been acting for
+ten days in A Woman's Wit, though that would scarcely explain her heavy
+eyelids, nor her colorless cheeks. Polly's eyes were so big in her white
+face and her hair so black that actually she looked more like an Irish
+pixie than an ordinary every-day girl.
+
+"You'll stay to lunch with me, Polly, and I'll send you home in my
+motor," Margaret Adams announced authoritatively. "I suppose your mother
+and Mollie have gone back to Woodford? I know Betty has returned to
+Boston, she came in to say good-by and to tell me that she is spending
+the winter in Boston with her brother, Dr. Ashton, and his wife. Betty
+is really prettier than ever, don't you think so? I believe it was you,
+Polly, who really saved Betty from marrying her German princeling, but
+what will the child do now without you to look after her?"
+
+Margaret Adams arose and walked across the room, presumably to ring for
+her maid, but in reality to have a closer look at her visitor. For Polly
+had not yet answered her idle questions; nor did she even show the
+slightest interest in the mention of her beloved Betty's name. Something
+most unusual must be the matter with her.
+
+"I should like to stay to lunch if no one else is coming," Polly
+returned a moment later. "I did not like to disturb you earlier. There
+is something I want to tell you and so I might as well say it at once. I
+am not going to try to act Belinda any longer. I am going away from New
+York tomorrow. Yet you must not think I am ungrateful, even though I am
+not going to tell you where I am going nor what I intend to do." Polly
+clasped her thin arms about her knees and began slowly rocking herself
+back and forth with her eyes fastened on the fire, as though not daring
+to glance toward her friend.
+
+At first Margaret Adams made no reply. Then she answered coldly and a
+little disdainfully: "So you are playing the coward, Polly! Instead of
+trying each night to do better and better work you are running away. If
+for an instant I had dreamed that you had so little courage, so little
+backbone, I never should have encouraged you to enter one of the most
+difficult professions in the whole world. Come, dear, you are tired and
+perhaps ill. I ought not to scold you. But I want you to forget what you
+have just said. Goodness knows, I have not forgotten the bitterly
+discouraged days I used to have and do still have every now and then.
+Only somehow I hoped a Camp Fire girl might be different, that her club
+training might give her fortitude. Remember 'Wohelo means work. We
+glorify work because through work we are free. We work to win, to
+conquer and be masters. We work for the joy of working and because we
+are free.' Long ago I thought you and I decided that the Camp Fire rules
+would apply equally well to whatever career a girl undertook, no matter
+what she might try to do or be."
+
+"Oh, I have not forgotten; I think of our old talks very often," was
+Polly's unsatisfactory reply.
+
+A little nearer the fire Margaret Adams now drew her own big chair. It
+was October and the rain was a cold one, making the blaze comforting.
+The whole atmosphere of the room was peculiarly intimate and cozy and
+yet the girl did not appear any happier.
+
+"I wonder if you would like to hear of my early trials, Polly?" Margaret
+asked. "Not because they were different from other people's, but perhaps
+because they were so like. I believe I promised to tell you my history
+once several years ago."
+
+The older woman did not glance toward her visitor, as she had no doubt
+of her interest. Instead she merely curled herself up in her chair like
+a girl eager to tell a most interesting story.
+
+"You see, dear, I made my debut not when I was twenty-one like you are,
+but when I was exactly seven. Of course even now one does not like to
+talk of it, but I never remember either my father or mother. They were
+both actors and died when I was very young, leaving me without money and
+to be brought up in any way fate chose. I don't know just why I was not
+sent at once to an orphan asylum, but for some reason or other a woman
+took charge of me who used to do all kinds of odd work about the
+theater, help mend clothes, assist with the dressing, scrub floors if
+necessary. She was frightfully poor, so of course there is no blame to
+be attached to her for making me try to earn my own bread as soon as
+possible. And bread it was actually." Margaret Adams laughed, yet not
+with the least trace of bitterness. "A child was needed in a play, one
+of the melodramas that used to be so popular when I was young, a little
+half-starved waif. I dare say I had no trouble in looking the part. You
+see I'm not very big now, Polly, so I must have been a ridiculously
+thin, homely child, all big staring eyes and straight brownish hair. I
+was engaged to stand outside a baker's shop window gazing wistfully in
+at a beautiful display of shiny currant buns until the heroine appeared.
+Then, touched by my plight, she nobly presented me with a penny with
+which I purchased a bun. Well, dear, that piece of bread was all the pay
+I received for my night's performance, and it was all the supper I had.
+One night--funny how I can recall it all as if it were yesterday--coming
+out of the shop I stumbled, dropped my bun and at the same instant saw
+it rolling away from me down toward the blazing row of footlights. I had
+not a thought then of where I was or of anything in all the world but
+that I was a desperately hungry child, losing my supper. So with a
+pitiful cry I jumped up and ran after my bread. When I picked it up I
+think I hugged it close to me like a treasure and kissed it. Well, dear,
+you can imagine that the very unconsciousness, the genuineness of the
+little act won the audience. I know a good many people cried that night
+and afterwards. The reason I still remember the little scene so
+perfectly was because after that first time I had to do the same thing
+over and over again as long as the play ran. It was my first 'hit,'
+Polly, though I never understood what it meant for years and years
+afterwards."
+
+"Poor baby," Polly whispered softly, taking her friend's hand and
+touching it with her lips. "But I don't care how or why the thing
+happened I have always known that you must have been a genius from the
+very first."
+
+"Genius?" The older woman smiled, shaking her head. "I don't think so,
+Polly; I may have had some talent, although it took me many years to
+prove it. Mostly it has all been just hard work with me and beginning at
+seven, you see I have had a good many years. Do you think I became
+famous immediately after I captured the audience and the bun? My dear, I
+don't believe I have ever known another girl as impossible as I was as
+an actress after I finally grew up. I did not continue acting. My foster
+mother married and I was then sent to school for a number of years.
+Finally, when I was sixteen, I came back to the stage, though I did not
+have a speaking part till five years later. You see, I was not pretty,
+and I never got very big in spite of the buns. It was not until I played
+in The Little Curate years after that I made any kind of reputation."
+
+Margaret Adams leaned over and put both hands on Polly's thin shoulders.
+
+"Don't you see, dear, how silly, how almost wicked you will be if you
+run away from the opportunity I am able to give you. I never had any one
+to help me. It was all nothing but hard, wearing work and few friends,
+with almost no encouragement."
+
+"I see, Margaret," Polly returned gravely. Then, getting up, she sat for
+a few moments on the arm of her friend's chair. "Yet I must give up the
+chance you have given me just the same, dear, and I must go away from
+New York tomorrow. I can't tell you why I am going or where because I am
+afraid you might dissuade me. Oh, I suppose it is foolish, even mad, of
+me, but I would not be myself if I were reasonable, and I am doing what
+seems wisest to me. I have written to mother and made her understand and
+to Sylvia because she almost forced me into promising her that I would
+keep her informed this winter where I was and what I was doing. I am not
+confiding in any one else in the whole world. But if you think I am
+ungrateful, Margaret, you think the very wrongest thing in the whole
+world and I'll prove it to you one day, no matter what it costs. The
+most dreadful part is that I am not going to be able to see you for a
+long time. That is the hardest thing. You will never know what you have
+meant to me in these last few years when I have been away from home and
+my old friends. But I believe you are lonely too, dear, now and then in
+spite of your reputation and money and all the people who would like to
+know you." Polly got up now and began walking restlessly about the room,
+not knowing how to say anything more without betraying her secret.
+
+She glanced at the photograph of Richard Hunt.
+
+"Are you and Mr. Hunt very special friends, Margaret?" Polly asked, an
+idea having suddenly come into her mind. "I think he is half as nice as
+you are and that is saying a great deal."
+
+For a perceptible moment Margaret Adams did not reply and then she
+seemed to hesitate, perhaps thinking of something else. "Yes, we have
+been friends for a number of years, sometimes intimate ones, sometimes
+not," she returned finally. "But I don't want to talk about Mr. Hunt. I
+still want to be told what mad thing Polly O'Neill is planning to do
+next."
+
+"And if she can't tell you?" Polly pleaded.
+
+"Then I suppose I will have to forgive her, because friendship without
+faith is of very little value."
+
+And at this instant Margaret Adams' maid came in to announce luncheon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V--Other Girls
+
+
+
+"No, I am not in the least unhappy or discontented either, Esther; I
+don't know how you can say such a thing," Betty Ashton answered
+argumentatively. "You talk as though I did not like living here with you
+and Dick. You know perfectly well I might have gone south with mother
+for the winter if I had not a thousand times preferred staying with
+you." Yet as she finished her speech, quite unconsciously Betty sighed.
+
+She and Esther were standing in a pretty living room that held a grand
+piano, shelves of books, a desk and reading table; indeed, a room that
+served all purposes except that of sleeping and dining. For Dick and
+Esther had taken a small house on the outskirts of Boston and were
+beginning their married life together as simply as possible, until Dr.
+Ashton should make a name and fame for himself.
+
+Esther was now dressed for going out in a dark brown suit and hat with
+mink furs and a muff. Happiness and the fulfilling of her dreams had
+given her a beauty and dignity which her girlhood had not held. She was
+larger and had a soft, healthy color. With the becoming costumes which
+Betty now helped her select her red hair had become a beauty rather than
+a disfigurement and the content in her eyes gave them more color and
+depth, while about her always beautiful mouth the lines were so cheerful
+and serene that strangers often paused to look at her the second time
+and then went their way with a new sense of encouragement.
+
+Betty had no thought of going out, although it was a brilliant December
+day. She had on a blue cashmere house dress and her hair was loosely
+tucked up on her head in a confusion of half-tangled curls. She had
+evidently been dusting, for she still held a dusting cloth in her hand.
+Her manner was listless and uninterested, and she was pale and frowning
+a little. Her gayety and vitality, temporarily at least, were playing
+truant.
+
+"Still I know perfectly well, Betty dear, that you came to be with Dick
+and me this winter not only because you wanted to come, but because you
+knew your board would help us along while Dick is getting his start. So
+it is perfectly natural that you should be lonely and miss your old
+friends in Woodford. Of course, Meg isn't far away here at Radcliffe,
+but she is so busy with Harvard students as well as getting her degree
+that you don't see much of each other. Suppose you come now and take a
+walk with me, or else you ride with Dick and I'll go on the street car.
+I am only going to church for a rehearsal. You know I am to sing a solo
+on Sunday," Esther continued in a persuasive tone.
+
+"Yes, and of course Dick would so much prefer taking his sister to ride
+than taking his wife," the other girl returned rather pettishly,
+abstractedly rubbing the surface of the mahogany table which already
+shone with much polishing.
+
+Esther shook her head. "Well, even though you won't confess it,
+something is the matter with you, Betty. You have not been a bit like
+yourself since you were in Woodford last fall. Something must have
+happened there. I don't wish your confidence unless you desire to give
+it me. But even while we were in New York, you were cold and stiff and
+unlike yourself, especially to Anthony Graham, and I thought you used to
+be such good friends."
+
+There was no lack of color now in Betty Ashton's face, although she
+still kept her back turned to her older sister.
+
+"We are not special friends any longer," she returned coldly, "though I
+have nothing in the world against Anthony. Of course, I consider that he
+is rather spoiled by his political success, being elected to the
+Legislature when he is so young, but then that is not my affair." Betty
+now turned her face toward her sister. "I suppose I need something to
+do--that is really what is the matter with me, Esther dear. Lately I have
+been thinking that I am the only one of the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire
+girls who amounts to nothing. And I wanted so much to be loyal to our
+old ideals. There is Meg at college, Sylvia and Nan both studying
+professions, Edith married and Eleanor about to be. You have Dick, your
+music and your house, Mollie is relieving her mother of the
+responsibility of their big establishment and even little Faith had a
+poem published in a magazine last week. It is hard to be the only
+failure. Then of course there is Polly!"
+
+"Never a word from her in all this time?"
+
+"Not a line since the note I received from her last October asking me
+not to be angry if I did not hear from her in a long time. No one has
+the faintest idea what has become of her--none of her friends, not even
+Mollie knows. I suppose she is all right though, because her mother is
+satisfied about her. Yet I can't help wondering and feeling worried.
+What on earth could have induced Polly O'Neill to give up her splendid
+chance with Miss Adams, a chance she has been working and waiting for
+these two years?" Betty shrugged her shoulders. "It is stupid of me to
+be asking such questions. No one yet has ever found the answer to the
+riddle of Polly O'Neill. Perhaps that is why she is so fascinating. I
+always do and say exactly what people expect, so no wonder I am
+uninteresting. But there, run along, Esther, I hear Dick whistling for
+you. Don't make him late. Perhaps I'll get over having 'the dumps' while
+you are away."
+
+Esther started toward the door. "If only I could think of something that
+would interest or amuse you! I can't get hold of Polly to cheer you up,
+but I shall write Mrs. Wharton this very evening and ask her to let
+Mollie come and spend Christmas with us. I believe Dick has already
+asked Anthony Graham. You won't mind, will you, Betty? We wanted to have
+as many old friends as possible in our new house."
+
+Once again Betty flushed uncomfortably, although she answered carelessly
+enough. "Certainly I don't mind. Why should I? Now do run along. Perhaps
+I'll make you and Dick a cake while you are gone. An old maid needs to
+have useful accomplishments."
+
+Esther laughed. "An old maid at twenty-one! Well, farewell, Spinster
+Princess. I know you are a better cook and housekeeper than I am." In
+answer to her husband's more impatient whistling Esther fled out of the
+room, though still vaguely troubled. Betty was not in good spirits, yet
+what could be the matter with her? Of course, she missed the stimulus of
+Polly's society; however, that in itself was not a sufficient
+explanation. What could have happened between Betty and Anthony?
+Actually, there had been a time when Dick had feared that they might
+care seriously for each other. Thank goodness, that was a mistake!
+
+Left alone Betty slowly drew out a letter from inside her blue gown. It
+had previously been opened; but she read it for the second time. Then,
+lighting a tall candle on the mantel, she placed the letter in the
+flame, watching it burn until finally the charred scraps were thrown
+aside.
+
+Betty had evidently changed her mind in regard to her promise to her
+sister. For instead of going into the kitchen a very little while later
+she came downstairs dressed for the street. Opening the front door, she
+went out into the winter sunshine and started walking as rapidly as
+possible in the direction of one of the poorer quarters of the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI--The Fire-Maker's Desire
+
+
+Outside the window of a small florist's shop Betty paused for an
+instant. Then she stepped in and a little later came out carrying half a
+dozen red roses and a bunch of holly and fragrant cedar. Curiously
+enough, her expression in this short time had changed. Perhaps the
+flowers gave the added color to her face. She was repeating something
+over to herself and half smiling; but, as there were no people on the
+street except a few dirty children who were playing cheerfully in the
+gutter, no one observed her eccentric behavior.
+
+[Illustration: She Came Out Carrying Red Roses, Holly and Cedar]
+
+  "As fuel is brought to the fire
+  So I purpose to bring
+  My strength,
+  My ambition,
+  My heart's desire,
+  My joy
+  And my sorrow
+  To the fire
+  Of humankind.
+  For I will tend,
+  As my fathers have tended,
+  And my father's fathers,
+  Since time began,
+  The fire that is called
+  The love of man for man,
+  The love of man for God."
+
+Betty's delicate, eyebrows were drawn so close together that they
+appeared almost heart shaped. "I fear I have only been tending the love
+of a girl for herself these past few months, so perhaps it is just as
+well that I should try to reform," she thought half whimsically and yet
+with reproach. "Anyhow, I shall telephone Meg Everett this very
+afternoon, though I am glad Esther does not know the reason Meg and I
+have been seeing so little of each other lately, and that the fault is
+mine, not hers."
+
+By this time the girl had arrived in front of a large, dull, brown-stone
+building in the middle of a dingy street, with a subdued hush about it.
+Above the broad entrance hung a sign, "Home For Crippled Children." Here
+for a moment Betty Ashton's courage seemed to waver, for she paused
+irresolutely, but a little later she entered the hall. A week before she
+had promised an acquaintance at the church where Esther was singing to
+come to the children's hospital some day and amuse them by telling
+stories. Since she had not thought seriously of her promise, although
+intending to fulfill it when she had discovered stories worth the
+telling. This morning while worrying over her own affair it had occurred
+to her that the best thing she could do was to do something for some one
+else. Hence the visit to the hospital.
+
+Yet here at the moment of her arrival Betty had not the faintest idea of
+what she could do or say to make herself acceptable as a visitor. She
+had a peculiar antipathy to being regarded as a conventional
+philanthropist, one of the individuals with the instinct to patronize
+persons less fortunate.
+
+Long ago when through her wealth and sympathy Betty had been able to do
+helpful things for her acquaintances, always she had felt the same
+shrinking sense of embarrassment, disliking to be thanked for
+kindnesses. Yet actually in his last letter Anthony Graham had dared
+remind her of their first meeting, an occasion she wished forgotten
+between them both.
+
+The matron of the children's hospital had been sent for and a little
+later she was conducting Betty down a broad, bare hall and then ushering
+her into a big sunlit room, not half so cheerless as its visitor had
+anticipated.
+
+There were two large French windows on the southern side and a table
+piled with books and magazines. Near one of these windows two girls were
+seated in rolling chairs reading. They must have been about fourteen
+years old and did not look particularly frail. Across from them were
+four other girls, perhaps a year or so younger, engaged in a game of
+parchesi. On the floor in the corner a pretty little girl was sewing on
+her doll clothes and another was hopping merrily about on her crutches,
+interfering with every one else. Only two of the cot beds in the room
+were occupied, and to these Betty's eyes turned instinctively. In one
+she saw a happy little German maiden with yellow hair and pale pink
+cheeks propped up on pillows, busily assorting half a dozen colors of
+crochet cotton. In the other a figure was lying flat with the eyes
+staring at the ceiling. And at the first glance there was merely an
+effect of some one indescribably thin with a quantity of short, curly
+dark hair spread out on the white pillow.
+
+The matron introduced Betty, told her errand, and then went swiftly
+away, leaving her to do the rest for herself, and the rest appeared
+exceedingly difficult. The older girls who were reading closed their
+books politely and bowed. Yet it was self-evident that they would have
+preferred going on with their books to hearing anything their visitor
+might have to tell. Among the parchesi players there was a hurried
+consultation and then one of them looked up. "We will be through with
+our game in a few moments," she explained with a note of interrogation
+in her voice.
+
+"Oh, please don't stop on my account," the newcomer said hastily.
+
+On the big table Betty put down her roses and evergreens, not liking to
+present them with any formality under the circumstances. She could see
+that the little girl who was sewing in the corner was smiling a welcome
+to her and that the little German Maedchen in bed was pleased with her
+winter bouquet. For she had whispered, "Schoen, wunderschoen," and stopped
+assorting her crochet work. Then the child on crutches came across the
+floor, and picking up one of the roses placed it on the pillow by the
+dark-eyed girl, who showed not the least sign of having noticed the
+attention.
+
+"She will look at it in a moment if she thinks we are not watching her,"
+explained Betty's one friendly confidant, motioning to a chair to
+suggest that their visitor might sit down if she wished.
+
+It was an extremely awkward situation. Betty sat down. She had come to
+make a call at a place where her society was not desired and though they
+were only children, and she a grown woman, still she had no right to
+intrude upon their privacy. She found herself blushing furiously.
+Besides, what story had she to tell that would be of sufficient interest
+to hold their attention? Had she not thought of at least a dozen, only
+to discard them all as unsuitable?
+
+"I believe you were going to entertain us, I suppose with a fairy
+story," began one of the girls, still keeping her finger between the
+covers of Little Women. It was hard luck to be torn away from that
+delightful love scene between Laurie and Jo to hear some silly tale of
+princes and princesses and probably a golden apple when one was fourteen
+years old. However, this morning's visitor was so pretty it was a
+pleasure to look at her. Besides, she had on lovely clothes and was
+dreadfully embarrassed. Moreover, she was sitting quite still and
+helpless instead of poking about, asking tiresome questions as most
+visitors did. One could not avoid feeling a little sorry for her instead
+of having to receive her pity.
+
+Both wheeled chairs were now rolled over alongside Betty and Little
+Women was closed and laid on the table. The next instant the parchesi
+game was finished and the four players glanced with greater interest at
+their guest. The girl who had been dancing about on her crutches hopped
+up on the table.
+
+"I am 'Cricket' not on the hearth, but on the table at this moment," she
+confided gayly; "at least, that is what the girls here call me and it is
+as good a name as any other. Now won't you tell us your name?"
+
+"Betty Ashton," the visitor answered, still feeling ill at ease and
+angry and disgusted with herself for not knowing how to make the best of
+the situation. Yet she need no longer have worried. For there was some
+silent, almost indescribable influence at work in the little company
+until almost irresistibly most of its occupants felt themselves drawn
+toward the newcomer. Of course, Polly O'Neill would have described this
+influence as the Princess' charm and that is as good an explanation as
+any other. But I think it was Betty Ashton's ability to put herself in
+other people's places, to think and feel and understand for them and
+with them. Now she knew that these eight girls, poor and ill though they
+might be, did not want either her pity or her patronage.
+
+"Well, fire away with your tale, Miss Ashton," suggested Cricket
+somewhat impatiently, "and don't make it too goody-goody if you can help
+it. Most of us are anxious to hear." Cricket had pretty gray eyes and a
+great deal of fluffy brown hair, but otherwise the face was plain,
+except for its clever, good-natured expression. She gave a sudden side
+glance toward the figure on the bed only a dozen feet away and Betty's
+glance followed hers.
+
+She saw that the red rose had been taken off the pillow and that the
+eyes that had been staring at the ceiling were gazing toward her.
+However, their look was anything but friendly.
+
+For some foolish, unexplainable reason the girl made Betty think of
+Polly. Yet this child's eyes were black instead of blue, her hair short
+and curly instead of long and dark. And though Polly had often been
+impatient and dissatisfied, thank heaven she had never had that
+expression of sullen anger and of something else that Betty could not
+yet understand.
+
+For Betty had of course to turn again toward her auditors and smile an
+entirely friendly and charming smile.
+
+"May I take off my hat first? It may help me to think," she said. Then
+when Cricket had helped her remove both her coat and hat she sat down
+again and sighed.
+
+"Do you know I have come here under absolutely false pretences? I
+announced that I had a story to tell, but I simply can't think of
+anything that would entertain you in the least and I should so hate to
+be a bore."
+
+Then in spite of her twenty-one years, Betty Ashton seemed as young as
+any girl in the room. Moreover, she was exquisitely pretty. Her auburn
+hair, now neatly coiled, shone gold from the light behind her. Her
+cheeks were almost too flushed and every now and then her dark lashes
+drooped, shading the frank friendliness of her gray eyes. She wore a
+walking skirt, beautifully tailored, and a soft white silk blouse with a
+knot of her same favorite blue velvet pinned at her throat with her
+torch-bearer's pin.
+
+Agnes Edgerton, the former reader of Little Women, made no effort to
+conceal her admiration. "Oh, don't tell us a story," she protested, "we
+read such a lot of books. Tell us something about yourself. Real people
+are so much more interesting."
+
+"But there isn't anything very interesting about me, I am far too
+ordinary a person," Betty returned. Then she glanced almost desperately
+about the big room. There was a mantel and a fireplace, but no fire, as
+the room was warmed with steam radiators. However, on the mantel stood
+three brass candlesticks holding three white candles and these may have
+been the source of Betty's inspiration.
+
+Outside the smoky chimney tops of old Boston houses and factories reared
+their heads against the winter sky, and yet Betty began her story
+telling with the question: "I wonder if you would like me to tell you of
+a summer twelve girls spent together at Sunrise Hill?" For in the glory
+of the early morning, with the Camp Fire cabin at its base, Sunrise Hill
+had suddenly flashed before her eyes like a welcome vision.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII--"The Flames in the Wind"
+
+
+When an hour later Betty Ashton finished her story of the first years of
+the Camp Fire girls at Sunrise Hill on the table nearby three candles
+were burning and about them was a circle of eager faces.
+
+Moreover, from the cedar which Betty had bought as a part of her winter
+bouquet a miniature tree had been built as the eternal Camp Fire emblem
+and there also were the emblems of the wood gatherer, fire maker and
+torch bearer constructed from odd sticks which Cricket had mysteriously
+produced in the interval of the story telling.
+
+"That is the most delightful experience that I ever heard of girls
+having, a whole year out of doors with a chance to do nice things for
+yourself, a fairy story that was really true," Cricket sighed finally.
+"Funny, but I never heard of a Camp Fire club and I have never been to
+the country."
+
+"You have never been to the country?" Betty repeated her words slowly,
+staring first at Cricket and then at the other girls. No one else seemed
+surprised by the remark.
+
+In answer the younger girl flushed. "I told you I had not," she repeated
+in a slightly sarcastic tone. "But please don't look as if the world had
+come to an end. Lots of poor people don't do much traveling and we have
+five children in the family besides me. Of course, I couldn't go on
+school picnics and Sunday-school excursions like the others." Here an
+annoyed, disappointed expression crept into Cricket's eyes and she grew
+less cheerful.
+
+"Please don't spoil our nice morning together, Miss Ashton, by beginning
+to pity me. I hate people who are sorry for themselves. That is the
+reason we girls have liked you so much, you have been so different from
+the others."
+
+Quietly Betty began putting on her wraps. She had been watching
+Cricket's face all the time she had been talking of Sunrise Hill, of the
+grove of pine trees and the lake. Yet if the thought had leapt into her
+mind that she would like to show her new acquaintance something more
+beautiful than the chimney tops of Boston, it was now plain that she
+must wait until they were better friends.
+
+"But you'll come again soon and tell us more?" Cricket next asked,
+picking up their visitor's muff and pressing it close to her face with
+something like a caress. Then more softly, "I did not mean to be rude."
+
+Betty nodded. "Of course I'll come if you wish me. You see, I am a
+stranger in Boston and lonely. But I'll never have anything half so
+interesting to tell you as the history of our club with such girls as
+Polly O'Neill, Esther and Meg and the rest for heroines. Nothing in my
+whole life has ever been such fun. Do you know I was wondering----"
+
+Here a slight noise from the figure on the cot near them for an instant
+distracted Betty's attention. Yet glancing in that direction, there
+seemed to have been no movement. Not for a single moment did she believe
+the little girl had been listening to a word she was saying. For she had
+never caught another glance straying in her direction.
+
+"You were wondering what?" Agnes Edgerton demanded a little impatiently
+and Betty thought she saw the same expression on all the faces about
+her.
+
+"Wondering if you would like my sister, Esther, to come and sing our old
+Camp Fire songs to you some day?" This time there was no mistaking it.
+Her audience did look disappointed. "And wondering something else, only
+perhaps I had best wait, you may not think it would be fun, or perhaps
+it might be too much work--" Betty's face was flushed, again she seemed
+very little older than the other girls about her.
+
+"Yes, we would," Agnes Edgerton answered gravely, having by this time
+quite forgotten the interruption of Little Women in her new interest. "I
+know what you mean, because almost from the start I have been wondering
+the same thing. Do you think we girls could start a Camp Fire club here
+among ourselves, if you would show us how? Why, it would make everything
+so much easier and happier. There are some of the Camp Fire things we
+could not do, of course, but the greater part of them----"
+
+Here, with a sudden exclamation of pleasure, Cricket bounced off her
+perch on the table and began dancing about in a fashion which showed how
+she had earned her name.
+
+"Hurrah for the Shut-In Camp Fire Girls and the fairy princess who
+brought us the idea!" she exclaimed. Then, surveying Betty more
+critically, "You know you do look rather like a princess. Are you one in
+disguise?"
+
+Betty laughed. She had not felt so cheerful in months. For with Agnes
+and Cricket on her side, the thought that had slowly been growing in her
+mind would surely bear fruit. But how strangely her old title sounded!
+How it did bring back the past Camp Fire days!
+
+"No," she returned, "I am not a princess or anything in the least like
+one. But we can all have new names in our Camp Fire club if we like,
+select any character or idea we choose and try to live up to it. Next
+time I come I will try and explain things better and bring you our
+manual. Now I really must hurry."
+
+Betty Ashton was moving quickly toward the door, accompanied by Cricket,
+when a hand reached suddenly out from the side of a bed clutching at her
+skirt.
+
+"I would rather have that Polly girl come the next time instead of you;
+I am sure I should like her much better," the voice said with a
+decidedly foreign accent. Then Betty looked quickly into the pair of
+black eyes that had been so relentlessly fixed upon the ceiling.
+
+"I don't wonder you would rather have the Polly girl instead of me," she
+returned smiling; "most people would, and perhaps you may see her some
+day if I can find her. Only I don't know where she is just at present."
+
+So this strange child had been listening to her story-telling after all.
+Curious that her fancy had lighted upon Polly, but perhaps the name
+carried its own magic.
+
+Out in the hall Betty whispered to her companion:
+
+"Tell me that little girl's name, won't you, Cricket? I didn't dare ask
+her. What a strange little thing she is, and yet she makes me think of
+an old friend. Already I believe she has taken a dislike to me."
+
+The other girl shrugged her shoulders. "Don't be flattered, she dislikes
+everybody and won't have anything to do with the rest of us if she can
+help it. Yet her name is Angelique, that is all we know. 'The Angel' we
+call her when we wish to make her particularly furious. She is French,
+and we believe an orphan, because no one comes to see her, though she
+has letters now and then, which she hides under her pillow," Cricket
+concluded almost spitefully, since curiosity was one of her leading
+traits.
+
+On her way back home, oddly enough, Betty found her attention divided
+between two subjects. The first was natural enough; she was greatly
+pleased with her morning's experience. Perhaps, if she could interest
+her new acquaintances in forming a Camp Fire, her winter need not be an
+altogether unhappy and dissatisfied one.
+
+There had been a definite reason for her leaving Woodford, which she
+hoped was known to no one but herself. It had been making her very
+unhappy, but now she intended rising above it if possible. Of course,
+work in which she felt an interest was the best possible cure; there was
+no use in preaching such a transparent philosophy as Esther had earlier
+in the day. But she had no inclination toward pursuing a definite career
+such as Sylvia, Nan and Polly had chosen. The money Judge Maynard had
+left her relieved her from this necessity. But the name of Polly
+immediately set her thinking along the second direction. What was it in
+the unfortunate child at the hospital that had brought Polly so forcibly
+before her mind? There was no definite resemblance between them, only a
+line here and there in the face or a slight movement. Could Polly even
+be conscious of the girl's existence? For Betty felt that there were
+many unexplainable forms of mental telegraphy by which one might
+communicate a thought to a friend closely in sympathy with one's own
+nature.
+
+But by this time, as she was within a few feet of Esther's and Dick's
+home, Betty smiled to herself. She had merely become interested in this
+particular child because she seemed more unfortunate and less content
+than the others and she meant to do what she could to help her, no
+matter what her personal attitude might be. As for Polly's influence in
+the matter, it of course amounted to nothing. Was she not always
+wondering what had become of her best-loved friend and hoping she might
+soon be taken into her confidence?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII--Afternoon Tea and a Mystery
+
+
+Ten days later, returning from another of her now regular visits to the
+hospital, Betty Ashton was surprised by hearing voices inside the living
+room just as she was passing the closed door. Possibly Esther had
+invited some of their new acquaintances in to tea and had forgotten to
+mention it. Now she could hear her own name being called.
+
+Her hair had been blown in every direction by the east wind and she had
+been sitting on the floor at the hospital, building a camp fire in the
+old chimney place, with the grate removed, according to the most
+approved camping methods. Straightening her hat and rubbing her face for
+an instant with her handkerchief, Betty made a casual entrance into the
+room, trying to assume an agreeable society manner to make up for her
+other deficiencies.
+
+It was five o'clock and growing dark, although as yet the lights were
+not on. Esther was sitting at a little round wicker table pouring tea
+and Meg, who had evidently lately arrived, was standing near waiting to
+receive her cup. But in the largest chair in the room with her back
+turned to the opening door was a figure that made Betty's heart behave
+in the most extraordinary fashion. The hair was so black, the figure so
+graceful that for the moment it seemed it could only be one
+person--Polly! Betty's welcome was no less spontaneous, however, when
+Mollie O'Neill, jumping up, ran quickly toward her.
+
+"No, I am not Polly, Betty dear! I only wish I were, for then we should
+at least know what had become of her. But Esther has asked me to spend
+Christmas with you and I hope you are half as glad to see me as I am to
+be with you."
+
+Half an hour later, Esther having disappeared to see about dinner as Meg
+was also to remain for the night, the three old friends dropped down on
+sofa cushions before the fire, Camp Fire fashion, and with the tea pot
+between them began talking all at the same time.
+
+"Do, do tell me everything about Woodford," Betty demanded. "I never
+shall love any place half so well as my native town and I have not heard
+a word except through letters, for ages."
+
+Ceasing her own questioning of Meg in regard to the pleasures of college
+life, Mollie at once turned her serious blue eyes upon her other friend.
+"Haven't heard of Woodford, Betty!" she exclaimed, "what on earth do you
+mean? Then what do you and Anthony Graham talk about when he comes to
+Boston? I know he has been here twice lately, because he told me so
+himself and said you were well."
+
+Suddenly in Esther's pretty sitting room all conversation abruptly ended
+and only the ticking of the clock could be heard. Fortunately the room
+was still in shadow, for unexpectedly Meg's cheeks had turned scarlet,
+as she glanced toward the window with a perfectly unnecessary expression
+of unconcern. But Betty did not change color nor did her gray eyes
+falter for an instant from those of her friend. Yet before she received
+her answer Mollie was conscious that she must in some fashion have said
+the wrong thing.
+
+Yet what could have been the fault with her question? It was a perfectly
+natural one, as Betty and Anthony had always been extremely intimate in
+the old days, ever since Anthony had lived for a year at Mrs. Ashton's
+house. Mollie appreciated the change in the atmosphere, the coldness and
+restraint that had not been there before. Naturally she would have
+preferred to change the subject before receiving a reply, but she had
+not the quickness and adaptability of many girls, perhaps because she
+was too simple and sincere herself.
+
+"Anthony Graham does not come to see me--us, Mollie," Betty corrected
+herself, "when he makes his visits to Boston these days. You see he is
+now Meg's friend more than mine. But you must remember, Mollie dear,
+that Meg has always had more admirers than the rest of us and now she is
+a full-fledged college girl, of course she is irresistible."
+
+Betty Ashton spoke without the least suggestion of anger or envy and yet
+Meg turned reproachfully toward her. Her usually gay and friendly
+expression had certainly changed, she seemed embarrassed and annoyed.
+
+"You know that isn't true, Princess, and never has been," Meg returned,
+rumpling her pretty yellow hair as she always did in any kind of
+perplexity or distress. "I never have even dreamed of being so charming
+as you are. You know that John has always said----"
+
+Alas, if only Polly O'Neill had been present Mollie might in some
+fashion have been persuaded not to speak at this unlucky instant! But
+Polly had always cruelly called her an "enfant terrible." Now Mollie was
+too puzzled to appreciate the situation and so determined to get at the
+bottom of it.
+
+"But does Anthony come to see you and not Betty?" Mollie demanded
+inexorably of the embarrassed girl.
+
+Meg nodded. "Yes, but it is only because Betty----"
+
+"Please don't try to offer any explanation, Meg, I would rather you
+would not. It is most unnecessary," Betty now interrupted gently, in a
+tone that few persons in her life had ever opposed. Then, reaching over,
+she began pouring out fresh cups of tea for her friends. "You need not
+worry, Mollie, Anthony and I are perfectly good friends. We have not
+quarreled, only he has not so much time these days now he is getting to
+be such a distinguished person. But do tell me whether you have the
+faintest idea of what Polly O'Neill is doing, or where she is, or a
+single solitary thing about her?"
+
+Always Mollie's attention could be distracted by any mention of her
+sister's name and it may be that Betty was counting upon this. For Meg
+had gotten up and strolled over toward the window, leaving the two other
+girls comparatively alone.
+
+Bluer and more serious than ever grew Mollie's big, innocent eyes.
+
+"Polly is well, or at least says she is. That much mother confides in
+me," Mollie replied soberly. "But where Polly is or what she is doing I
+have no more idea than you have, not so much perhaps. You were always
+better at understanding her than I have ever been. But then even Miss
+Adams has never heard a line from Polly since she told her good-by in
+New York several months ago. By the way, Betty, Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt
+are going to be playing here in Boston during the holidays. Won't you
+and Esther ask them to your Christmas dinner party?"
+
+Betty at this moment got up from the floor. "Yes, I have seen the
+notices of their coming and I am glad. We can have an almost home
+Christmas, can't we?" Then she walked over toward the window where Meg
+had continued standing, gazing with no special interest out into the
+street. The high wind was still blowing and with it occasional flurries
+of wet snow.
+
+"Do let us draw down the blinds, Meg, it is getting late and is not very
+cheerful outside." With apparent unconsciousness Betty slipped an arm
+about her friend's waist and for another instant they both stared out
+into the almost deserted street.
+
+Across on the farther sidewalk some one was standing, as though waiting
+for a companion. Meg had seen the person before but with no special
+attention. She was too deeply engaged with her own thoughts. Betty was
+differently influenced, for the figure had an oddly pathetic and lonely
+attitude. She could not see the face and the moment she began closing
+the living-room curtain the figure walked away.
+
+Meg chose this same instant for giving her friend a sudden ardent
+embrace and Betty's attention would in any case have been distracted.
+
+With the lights under the rose-colored shades now glowing, and Mollie
+asking no more embarrassing questions, the atmosphere of the living room
+soon grew cheerful again. For Mollie had a great deal of Woodford news
+to tell. Eleanor Meade was getting a beautiful trousseau for her
+marriage with Frank Wharton in the spring and she and Mollie had been
+sewing together almost every day. Eleanor had given up her old ambition
+to become a celebrated artist and was using her taste for color and
+design in the preparation of her clothes. Frank was in business with his
+father and would have a good deal of money, and although Eleanor's
+family was poor she did not intend to have less in her trousseau than
+other girls. Her own skill and work should make up for it.
+
+Billy Webster was succeeding better each month with the management of
+his farm since his father's death. Now and then Mollie went to call on
+Mrs. Webster and not long ago she and Billy had walked out to Sunrise
+cabin. The little house was in excellent condition, although no one had
+lived in it for several years.
+
+"It is wonderfully kind," Mollie explained, "but Billy has his own men
+look after our cabin and make any repairs that are necessary. He even
+keeps the grass cut and the weeds cleared from about the place, so any
+one of us could go out there to live with only a few hours preparation,"
+she ended with her usual happy smile.
+
+For Mollie O'Neill was not self-conscious and did not guess for a moment
+that while she talked both Betty and Meg were engaged with the same
+thought. Was there still nothing more between Mollie and Billy than
+simple friendliness? Once they had believed that there might be
+something, but now the time was passing and they were both free, Mollie
+at home helping her mother with the house, Billy the head of his own
+farm, and yet nothing had happened. Well, possibly nothing ever would
+and they might always simply remain friends, until one or the other
+married some one else.
+
+Suddenly Mollie started and her color faded.
+
+"I am awfully sorry, Betty, I know how silly and nervous you and Polly
+used always to think me, but look, please!" She spoke under her breath
+and pointed toward the closed blind.
+
+There, sharply defined, was the shadow of a head apparently straining to
+see inside the room. It had the effect of a gray silhouette.
+
+The two other girls also changed color, for the effect was uncanny. Then
+Betty laughed somewhat nervously.
+
+"It must be Dick, of course, trying to frighten us, but how silly and
+unlike him!" She then walked as quickly and quietly toward the window as
+possible and without a sign or word of warning drew up the curtain. Some
+one must have instantly jumped backward, for by the time Mollie and Meg
+had also reached the window they could only catch the outline of a
+disappearing figure. It was not possible in the darkness to decide
+whether it was a girl or a young boy.
+
+"Well, it wasn't Dick anyhow," said Betty finally; "probably some child.
+However it might be just as well to go and tell Dick and Esther. They
+would not enjoy a sneak thief carrying off their pretty wedding
+presents. And besides it is time for us to get ready for dinner and I
+haven't yet had time to tell you about my new Camp Fire."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX--Preparations
+
+
+A few mornings afterwards a letter was handed to Betty Ashton at the
+breakfast table, bearing a type-written address. Carelessly opening it
+under the impression that it must be a printed circular she found three
+lines, also type-written, on a sheet of paper and with no signature. It
+read:
+
+"Show whatever kindness is possible to the little French girl,
+Angelique, at the hospital. Pardon her peculiarities and oblige a
+friend."
+
+Without a comment Betty immediately passed the letter to Mollie O'Neill,
+who then gave it to Esther. Esther turned it over to Dr. Ashton, who
+frowned and straightway ceased eating his breakfast.
+
+"I don't like anonymous letters, Betty, even if they seem to be
+perfectly harmless and have the best intentions. Besides, who knows of
+your going to the hospital except our few intimate friends? I wonder if
+this queer child you have spoken of could be responsible for this letter
+herself. One never knows!"
+
+Rather irritably Betty shook her head. "What an absurd supposition,
+Dick. In the first place the child dislikes me so that she will scarcely
+speak to me while I am at the hospital. She seems to like Mollie a great
+deal better. Moreover, she is the only one of the group of girls I made
+friends with who still refuses to come into our Camp Fire. If she wished
+my friendship she might at least begin by being civil."
+
+Always as in former days Esther was quick to interpose between any
+chance of a heated argument between Dick and his sister. Understanding
+this they both usually laughed at her efforts. For as long as they lived
+Dick would scold Betty when he believed her in the wrong, while she
+would protest and then follow his advice or discard it as seemed wisest.
+
+"But, Betty dear, don't you consider that there is a possibility that
+this Angelique may have spoken to some relative or friend of your visits
+to the hospital, who has written you this letter in consequence. You
+see, they may think of you as very wealthy," Esther now suggested.
+
+But before Betty could reply, Mollie O'Neill, who during the moment's
+discussion had been thinking the question over quietly, turned her eyes
+on her friend.
+
+"Have you any idea who has written you, Betty?" she queried.
+
+For no explainable reason Betty flushed. Then with entire honesty she
+answered, "Of course not." Surely the idea that had come into her mind
+was too absurd to give serious consideration.
+
+"By the way, I wonder what I could be expected to do for Angelique?"
+Betty inquired the next instant, showing that her letter had not failed
+to make an impression, no matter if it were anonymous. "She has the best
+kind of care at the hospital; only she seems desperately unhappy over
+something and won't tell any one what it is. I know, of course, that she
+is ill, but the matron tells me she is not suffering and the other girls
+seem quite different. They are as brave and gay as if there were nothing
+the matter. Cricket is the best sport I ever knew."
+
+Dr. Ashton got up from the table, leaning over to kiss Esther good-by.
+
+"Well, don't do anything rash, Lady Bountiful," he protested to Betty.
+"Who knows but you may decide to adopt the little French girl before the
+day is over just because of a mysterious letter. I must confess I am
+extremely glad Judge Maynard's will only permits you to spend your
+income or you would keep things lively for all of us. I've an idea that
+it must have been Anthony Graham who put Judge Maynard up to making that
+kind of will. He must have remembered how you insisted on thrusting your
+money upon him at your first meeting and wished to save you from other
+impostors."
+
+Dick was laughing and it was perfectly self-evident that he was only
+saying what he had to tease his sister. For surely the Princess'
+generosities had been a joke among her family and friends ever since she
+was a little girl. And she was still in the habit of rescuing every
+forlorn person she saw, often with somewhat disastrous results to
+herself.
+
+Betty jumped up quickly from her place at the table, her face suddenly
+grown white and her lips trembling.
+
+"I won't have you say things like that to me, Dick," she returned
+angrily. "Anthony Graham had nothing in the world to do with the money
+Judge Maynard gave me, he has told you a hundred times he had not. But
+just the same I won't have you call him an impostor. Just because you
+don't approve of me is no reason why you should----" But finding her voice
+no longer steady Betty started hastily for the door, only to feel her
+brother's arms about her holding her so close she could not move while
+he stared closely at her downcast face.
+
+"What is the matter, Betty?" he asked quite seriously now. "It isn't in
+the least like you to get into a temper over nothing. You know perfectly
+well that while all of us may reproach you for being so generous we
+would not have you different for anything in the world. As for my
+thinking Anthony Graham an impostor, the thing is too absurd for any
+comment. You know he is my friend and one of the cleverest fellows in
+New Hampshire. Some day he will be a Senator at Washington, but I don't
+think he'll mind even then remembering who gave him his start. When he
+comes here at Christmas I mean to ask him and to tell him you thought it
+necessary to defend him against me."
+
+But by this time Betty had managed to pull herself away from Dick's
+clasp. "If you speak my name to him I shall never forgive you as long as
+I live," she announced and this time managed to escape from the room.
+
+Utterly mystified Dick Ashton gazed at his wife.
+
+"What on earth!" he began helplessly. And Esther nodded at Mollie.
+
+"Won't you find Betty?" she asked.
+
+Mollie had already risen, but she did not go at once in search of her
+friend, for although Mollie O'Neill may not have had as much imagination
+as certain other girls she had a sympathy that perhaps served even
+better.
+
+Out into the hall Esther followed her husband, and after helping him
+into his overcoat she stood for an instant with her hand resting on his
+shoulder. In spite of the change in her circumstances and in spite of
+her own talent and Dick's adoration there was never a day when Esther
+was not in her heart of hearts both humble and deeply puzzled by her
+husband's ardent affection. Of course neither he nor Betty ever allowed
+her to disparage herself these days, but that had not changed the
+essential elements in Esther's lovely nature.
+
+"Dick, don't try to understand," she now said. "I don't think we have
+exactly the right. Anthony and Betty were friends once, you know, and
+you were desperately afraid they might be something more. Well, I don't
+think there is anything between them any longer; whether they have
+quarreled or not is exactly what I don't know. Only if Betty should want
+to do any special thing for this little French girl, please don't oppose
+her. It would be an interest for her and you know we don't want her to
+spend her money on us. She will, you know, if she has any idea that
+there is anything either of us wish that we cannot afford to get.
+Already she says that she is determined to be an old maid so that her
+money can go to----"
+
+Esther blushed but could not have finished her speech as her husband's
+kiss at this instant made it impossible.
+
+Dick turned to go, but came back almost immediately.
+
+"See here, Esther, I would not think of interfering with any sensible
+thing the Princess may wish to do with her money. I only can't let her
+be reckless. But about Anthony Graham. If you think he has treated Betty
+badly or hurt her feelings, or goodness knows what, well I won't stand
+it for a single little instant. He will have to hear what I think of
+him----"
+
+Positively Esther could feel herself turning pale with horror at her
+husband's remark, but fortunately she had the good sense to laugh.
+
+"Richard Ashton," she said, "I am not often firm with you, but if you
+ever dare--Oh goodness, was there ever anything on earth quite so stupid
+as a man can be! No matter what may or may not have happened between
+Betty and Anthony there is nothing that you or I can do or say. You know
+we interfered as hard as we possibly could with Betty's German lover. We
+must leave the poor child to manage some of her own affairs alone.
+Anthony seems to be devoting himself to Meg these days. But he will be
+in Boston at Christmas, so perhaps if it is only a quarrel that has come
+between them they may make it up. But how do you suppose I am ever going
+to be able to get through with all my Christmas church music and give a
+dinner party with Miss Adams and Mr. Hunt present and perhaps have
+Betty's Camp Fire girls here for an afternoon? The child has some scheme
+or other of taking them for a drive so that they may be able to see the
+Christmas decorations and then bringing them home for a party."
+
+"If it is going to tire you, Esther, we will cut it all out," was Dr.
+Ashton's final protest as he disappeared to begin his morning's work.
+Dick had been taken into partnership with an older physician and his
+office was several blocks away.
+
+At his departure Esther breathed a sigh of relief. At least by dwelling
+on her own difficulties she had taken his mind away from Betty's odd
+mood. She did not understand her sister herself, but certainly she must
+be left alone.
+
+Late that afternoon when Betty and Mollie had been doing some Christmas
+shopping in Boston and were sitting side by side on the car, Betty
+whispered unexpectedly:
+
+"See here, Mollie, do you think by any chance it is possible that Polly
+O'Neill could have written me that letter about the little French girl?
+Yes, I realize the question sounds as though I had lost my mind, as
+Polly may be in South America for all I know. Besides, the child never
+heard of Polly until I mentioned her in talking of our old club. But
+somehow, for a reason I can't even try to explain, I keep thinking of
+Polly these days as if there was something she wanted me to do and yet
+did not exactly know how to ask it of me. It used often to be like that,
+you know, Mollie, when we were younger. Polly and I could guess what was
+in the other's mind. We often made a kind of game of it, just for fun.
+Anyhow you will have to try and see what is making that poor child so
+miserable, as she seems to like you better than she does me. Perhaps it
+is because you are so like Polly."
+
+Quietly Mollie nodded. Of course Betty was absurd in her supposition;
+yet, as always, she was perfectly willing to help in any practical way
+that either her erratic sister or Betty suggested.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X--More Puzzles
+
+
+On Christmas eve Mollie and Betty each received notes written and signed
+by Polly herself, postmarked New York City, accompanying small gifts.
+Neither letter made any direct reference to what Polly herself was doing
+nor showed that she had any knowledge of what was interesting her sister
+or friend. Her information in regard to Mollie's presence in Boston, she
+explained, had been received from her mother.
+
+Well, of course, it was good news to hear that at least Polly was alive
+and not altogether forgetful of her old affections, yet there was no
+other satisfaction in the communications from her. Indeed the two
+letters were much alike and on reading her own each girl felt much the
+same emotion. They were loving enough and almost gay, yet the love did
+not seem accompanied by any special faith to make it worth while, nor
+did the gayety sound altogether sincere.
+
+Betty's merely said:
+
+  "My Christmas thought is with you now and always, dear Princess.
+  Trust me and love me if you can. You may not approve of what I am
+  doing, but some day I shall try to explain it to you. I can't ask
+  you to write me unless you will send the letter to Mother and she
+  will forward it. Do nothing rash, dear Princess, Betty, friend,
+  while I am not near to look after you. Your always devoted Polly."
+
+With a little laugh that was not altogether a cheerful one, Betty also
+turned this letter over to Mollie. The two girls were in Betty's bedroom
+with no one else present.
+
+"Like Polly, wasn't it, to tell me not to do anything rash when she was
+not around to run things?" Betty said with a shrug of her shoulders and
+a little arching of her delicate brows.
+
+Mollie looked at her admiringly. Betty had not seemed altogether as she
+used to be in the first few days after her arrival, but recently, with
+the coming of the holidays and the arrival of their old friends, she
+certainly was as pretty as ever. Now she had on an ancient blue silk
+dressing gown which was an especial favorite and her red-brown hair was
+loose over her shoulders. The two friends were resting after a strenuous
+day. In a few hours Esther was to give her first real dinner party and
+they had all been working together toward the great event.
+
+"But why should Polly warn you against rashness under any
+circumstances?" Mollie returned, after having glanced over the note.
+"You are not given to doing foolish things as she is. I suppose because
+Polly is so dreadfully rash herself she believes the same of other
+people."
+
+There was no answer at first except that the Princess settled herself
+more deeply in her big Morris chair. Mollie was lying on the bed near
+by. Then she laughed again.
+
+"Oh, you need not be so sure of my good sense, Mavourneen, as Polly used
+to call you. I may not be rash in the same way that old Pollykins is,
+perhaps because I have not the same courage, yet I may not be so far
+away from it as you think. Only I wish Polly found my society as
+necessary to her happiness as hers is to mine. I simply dread the
+thought of a Christmas without her, and yet she is probably having a
+perfectly blissful time somewhere with never a thought of us."
+
+Hearing a sudden knock at their door at this instant Mollie tumbled off
+the bed to answer it. Yet not before she had time to reply, "I am not so
+sure Polly is as happy as you think." Then the little maid standing
+outside in the hall thrust into her arms four boxes of flowers.
+
+Nearly breathless with excitement Mollie immediately dropped them all
+into her friend's lap.
+
+"See what a belle you are, Betty Ashton!" she exclaimed. "Here you are
+almost a stranger in Boston and yet being showered with attentions."
+
+Gravely Betty read aloud the address on the first box.
+
+"Miss Mollie O'Neill, care of Dr. Richard Ashton," she announced,
+extending the package to the other girl with a mock solemnity and then
+laughing to see Mollie's sudden blush and change of expression. A moment
+later the second box, also inscribed with Mollie's name, was presented
+her. But the final two were addressed to Betty, so that the division was
+equal.
+
+It was Mollie, however, who first untied the silver cord that bound the
+larger of her two boxes, and Betty was quite sure that the roses inside
+were no pinker or prettier than her friend's cheeks.
+
+"They are from Billy," Mollie said without any hesitation or pretense of
+anything but pleasure. "He says that he has sent a great many so that I
+may wear them tonight and tomorrow and then again tomorrow night to the
+dance, as I care for pink roses more than any flower. It was good of Meg
+to ask Billy to come over for her College holiday dance. I should have
+been dreadfully embarrassed with one of Meg's strange Harvard friends
+for my escort. And Billy says he would have been abominably lonely in
+Woodford with all of us away."
+
+Mollie's second gift was a bunch of red and white carnations, bearing
+Anthony Graham's card. "How kind of Anthony to remember me," she
+protested, "when he was never a special friend of mine. But of course he
+sent me the flowers because I happened to be yours and Esther's guest
+and he is coming here to dinner tonight with Meg. But do please be less
+slow and let me see what you have received."
+
+For almost reluctantly Betty Ashton seemed to be opening her gifts.
+Nevertheless she could not conceal a quick cry of admiration at what she
+saw first. The box was an oblong purple one tied with gold ribbon. But
+here at Christmastide, in the midst of Boston's cold and dampness, lay a
+single great bunch of purple violets and another of lilies of the
+valley. Hurriedly Betty picked up the card that lay concealed beneath
+them. Just as Mollie's had, it bore Anthony Graham's name, and formal
+good wishes, but something else as well which to any one else would have
+appeared an absurdity. For it was a not very skilful drawing of a small
+ladder with a boy at the foot of it.
+
+"Gracious, it must be true that John is making a fortune in his broker
+shop in Wall Street, as Meg assures me!" Betty exclaimed gayly the next
+moment, thrusting her smaller box of flowers away, to peep into the
+largest of the four offerings. "I did not realize John had yet arrived
+in Boston, Meg was not sure he would be able to be with her for the
+holidays. It is kind of him, I am sure, to remember me, isn't it Mollie?
+And there is not much danger of my being unable to wear John's flowers
+with any frock I have, he has sent such a variety. I believe I'll use
+the mignonette tonight, it is so fragrant and unconventional."
+
+Betty spoke almost sentimentally and this state of mind was so unusual
+to her that for a moment Mollie only stared in silence. However, as her
+friend disappeared into the bathroom to begin her toilet for the evening
+Mollie remarked placidly, "The violets would look ever so much prettier
+with your blue dress."
+
+Esther's round mahogany table seated exactly twelve guests. On her right
+was Richard Hunt, the actor, with Anthony Graham on her left, next him
+was Meg, then Billy Webster and Mollie O'Neill. To the right of Dr.
+Ashton, Margaret Adams had the place of honor, then came a Harvard law
+student who was a special admirer of Meg's, then a new friend of
+Esther's and then John Everett and Betty Ashton. As the entire
+arrangement of the company had been made through Betty's suggestion,
+doubtless she must have chosen the companions at dinner that she most
+desired. Polly's friend, Richard Hunt, sat on her other side with Meg
+and Anthony nearly opposite.
+
+There had been no lack of cordiality on Betty's part toward any one of
+their visitors. On Anthony's arrival with Meg Everett she had thanked
+him for his gift in her most charming manner, but had made no reference
+to the card which he had enclosed nor to the fact that she preferred
+wearing other flowers than his. Meg was looking unusually pretty tonight
+and very frankly Betty told her so. Her soft blond hair was parted on
+the side with a big loose coil at the back and a black velvet ribbon
+encircled her head. Professor Everett was not wealthy and Meg's college
+education was costing him a good deal, therefore she had ordinarily only
+a moderate sum of money for buying her clothes and no special talent for
+making the best of them. However, this evening her dress had been a
+Christmas gift from her brother John and, as it was of soft white silk
+and lace, particularly becoming to Meg's pretty blondness. Her blue eyes
+were shining with a kind of veiled light and her color came and went
+swiftly. She seemed just as ingenuous and impulsive as she had ever
+been, until it was difficult to know what must be the truth about her.
+Several times during the evening Esther told herself sternly that of
+course Meg had a perfect right to accept Anthony Graham's attentions if
+she liked, for there had never been any definite understanding between
+him and her sister, and indeed that she had disapproved of him in the
+past. Yet now Anthony Graham, in spite of his origin, might have been
+considered a good match for almost any girl. He was a distinguished
+looking fellow, with his brilliant foreign coloring, his dark hair and
+high forehead. Esther recalled having once felt keenly sorry for him
+because the other girls and young men in their group of friends had not
+considered him their social or intellectual equal. Now he was entirely
+self-possessed and sure of himself. Yet he did seem almost too grave for
+their happy Betty; possibly it was just as well he had transferred his
+interest to Meg. No one could ever succeed in making Meg Everett serious
+for any great length of time. She was still the same happy-go-lucky girl
+of their old Camp Fire days whom "a higher education" was not altering
+in the least. Yet the "higher education" may have given her subjects of
+conversation worthy of discussing with Anthony, for certainly they spent
+a great part of the time talking in low tones to each other.
+
+Betty appeared in the gayest possible spirits and had never looked
+prettier. Richard Hunt seemed delighted with her, and John Everett had
+apparently returned to the state of admiration which he had always felt
+when they had been boy and girl together in Woodford. Indeed Betty did
+feel unusually animated and excited; she could hardly have known why
+except that she had spent a rather dull winter and that she was
+extremely excited at seeing her old friends again. And then she and Mr.
+Hunt had so much to say to each other on a subject that never failed to
+be interesting--Polly!
+
+Neither he nor Miss Adams had the faintest idea of what had become of
+that erratic young person, although Margaret Adams had also received a
+Christmas letter from her. But where she was or what she was doing, no
+one had the faintest idea. It was evident that Mr. Hunt highly
+disapproved of Polly's proceedings, and although until the instant
+before Betty had felt exactly as he did, now she rallied at once to her
+friend's defense.
+
+"Mr. Hunt, you must not think for an instant that Polly was ungrateful
+either to Miss Adams or to you for your many kindnesses, only she had to
+do things in her own Polly fashion, one that other people could not
+exactly understand. But if one had ever been fond of Polly," Betty
+insisted, "you were apt to keep on caring for her for some reason or
+other which you could not exactly explain. Not that Polly was as pretty
+or perhaps as sweet as Mollie."
+
+Several times during the evening Betty had noticed that every now and
+then her companion had glanced with interest toward Mollie O'Neill.
+However, when he now agreed with her last statement; she was not sure
+whether his agreement emphasized the fact of Mollie's superior
+prettiness, or that Polly was an unforgettable character.
+
+Without a doubt Esther's and Dick's first formal dinner party was a
+pronounced success. The food was excellent, the two maids, one of whom
+was hired for the occasion, served without a flaw. There was only one
+trifling occurrence that might have created a slight disturbance, and
+this situation fortunately Betty Ashton saw in time to save.
+
+She happened to be sitting at the side of the table that faced the
+windows. Earlier in the evening one of these windows had been opened in
+order to cool the room and the curtain left partly up. The wind was not
+particularly high and no one seemed to be inconvenienced. But most
+unexpectedly toward the close of the dinner a gale must have sprung up.
+Because there was a sudden, sharp noise at the window and without
+warning the blind rolled itself to the topmost ledge with startling
+abruptness, as if some one had pulled sharply at the cord and then let
+go.
+
+Then another noise immediately followed, not so startling but far more
+puzzling. The first racket had caused every member of the little company
+to start instinctively. Then at the same instant, before Richard Ashton,
+who chanced to be pouring a glass of water for Margaret Adams, could get
+up from his place, Betty turned to Richard Hunt. John Everett happened
+to be talking to his other neighbor at the moment.
+
+"Mr. Hunt," Betty asked quickly, "won't you please close that window for
+us? It is too cold to have it open and besides one does not altogether
+like the idea that outside persons might be able to look into the room."
+
+Perhaps Richard Hunt was just a moment longer at the window in the
+performance of so simple a task than one might have expected, but no one
+observed it.
+
+As he took his place again and Betty thanked him she looked at him with
+a slight frown.
+
+"Did you see a ghost, Mr. Hunt?" she queried. "It is not a comfortable
+night even for a ghost to be prowling about. It is too lonely an
+occupation for Christmas eve."
+
+Richard Hunt smiled at his companion in return. "Oh, I am always seeing
+ghosts, Miss Ashton," he answered; "I suppose it is because I have an
+actor's vivid imagination."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI--A Christmas Song and Recognition
+
+
+The entire number of guests who had been together at Esther's and Dick
+Ashton's Christmas-eve dinner, agreed to be at church the following
+morning in order to hear Esther sing.
+
+In spite of the fact that Boston is one of the most musical of American
+cities and Esther the most modest of persons, even in so short a time
+her beautiful voice had given her an enviable reputation. The papers in
+giving notice of the morning service had mentioned the fact that the
+solo would be given by Mrs. Richard Ashton. But church music must have
+been Esther's real vocation, for no matter how large the congregation
+nor how difficult her song she never felt any of her old nervousness and
+embarrassment. For one thing she was partly hidden behind the choir
+screen, so she need not fear that critical eyes were upon her; she could
+be alone with her music and something that was stronger and higher than
+herself.
+
+On Christmas morning Betty entered their pew with her brother Dick,
+Mollie O'Neill and Billy Webster. She was wearing a dark green
+broadcloth with a small black velvet toque on her red-brown hair and a
+new set of black fox furs that her brother and sister had given her that
+morning for a Christmas present. She was pale and a little tired from
+yesterday's festivities, so that a single red rose which had come to her
+from some unknown source that morning, was the only really bright color
+about her except for the lights in her hair. Mollie was flushed and
+smiling with the interest in the new place and people and the
+companionship of tried friends.
+
+Betty thought that Margaret Adams also seemed weary when she came in
+with Mr. Hunt a few moments later. She was glad that the great lady
+happened to be placed next her so that she might feel the thrill of her
+nearness. For genius is thrilling, no matter how simple and
+unpretentious the man or woman who possesses it. Margaret Adams wore a
+wonderful long Russian sable coat and a small velvet hat and, just as
+naturally as if she had been another girl, slipped her hand into Betty's
+and held it during the service.
+
+So that in spite of her best efforts Betty could not keep her attention
+from wandering now and then. She knew that Margaret Adams was almost
+equally as devoted to Polly O'Neill as she herself and wondered what she
+thought of their friend's conduct. She wished that they might have the
+opportunity to talk the matter over before Miss Adams finished her stay
+in Boston. Then, though realizing her own bad manners, Betty could not
+help being a little curious over the friendship between Miss Adams and
+Mr. Hunt. They seemed to have known each other such a long, long time
+and to have acted together so many times. Of course Margaret Adams was
+several years older, but that scarcely mattered with so unusual a
+person.
+
+Moreover, there were other influences at work to keep Betty Ashton's
+mind from being as firmly fixed upon the subject of the morning's sermon
+as it should have been. For was she not conscious of the presence of Meg
+and John Everett and Anthony Graham in the pew just back of her? And
+though it did seem vain and self-conscious of her, she had the sensation
+that at least two pairs of eyes were frequently concentrated upon the
+back of her head or upon her profile should she chance to turn her face
+half way around.
+
+When the offertory was finally announced and Esther began the first
+lines of her solo, not only was her sister Betty's attention caught and
+held, but that of almost every other human being in the church. It was
+not a beautiful Christmas day, outside there were scurrying gray clouds
+and a kind of bleak coldness. But the church was warmly and beautifully
+lighted, the altar white with lilies and crimson with roses, speaking of
+passion and peace. And Esther's voice had in it something of almost
+celestial sweetness. She was no longer a girl but a woman, for Dick's
+love and a promise of a fulfilment equally beautiful had added to her
+natural gift a deeper emotional power. And she sang one of the simplest
+and at the same time one of the most beautiful of Christmas hymns.
+
+Betty was perfectly willing to allow all the unhappiness and
+disappointments of the past few months to relieve themselves in the
+tears that came unchecked. Then she saw Margaret Adams bite her lips and
+close her eyes as if she too were shutting out the world of ordinary
+vision to live only in beautiful sound and a higher communion.
+
+  "Hark! the herald angels sing
+  Glory to the new-born King;
+  Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
+  God and sinners reconciled!
+  Joyful, all ye nations, rise,
+  Join the triumph of the skies;
+  With the angelic host proclaim,
+  Christ is born in Bethlehem.
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King.
+
+  "Christ, by highest heaven adored;
+  Christ, the everlasting Lord;
+  Late in time behold Him come,
+  Offspring of a virgin's womb.
+  Veil'd in flesh the Godhead see,
+  Hail, th' Incarnate Deity!
+  Pleased as man with man to dwell,
+  Jesus, our Emmanuel!
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King.
+
+  "Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace!
+  Hail, the Sun of righteousness!
+  Light and life to all He brings,
+  Risen with healing in His wings.
+  Mild He lays His glory by,
+  Born that man no more may die;
+  Born to raise the sons of earth,
+  Born to give them second birth.
+      Hark! the herald angels sing
+      Glory to the new-born King."
+
+At the close of the service, turning to leave the church, Betty Ashton
+felt a hand laid on her arm, and glancing up in surprise found Anthony
+Graham's eyes gazing steadfastly into hers.
+
+"We are friends, are we not, Betty? You would not let any
+misunderstanding or any change in your life alter that?" he asked
+hurriedly.
+
+For just an instant the girl hesitated, then answered simply and
+gracefully:
+
+"I don't think any one could be unfaithful to an old friendship on
+Christmas morning after hearing Esther sing. It was not in the least
+necessary, Anthony, for you to ask me such a question. You know I shall
+always wish you the best possible things."
+
+Then, without allowing the young man to reply or to accompany her down
+the aisle, she hurried away to her other friends, and, slipping her arm
+firmly inside Mollie O'Neill's, she never let go her clasp until they
+were safely out of church.
+
+"It is no use, Meg, nothing matters," Anthony Graham said a quarter of
+an hour later, when he and Margaret Everett were on their way home
+together, John having deserted them to join the other party. "The fact
+is, Betty does not care in the least one way or the other what I say or
+do."
+
+"Then I wish you would let me tell her the truth," Meg urged. "You see,
+Anthony, the Princess and I have always been such intimate friends and I
+have always admired her more than any of the other girls. I don't wish
+her to misunderstand us. She may not be so brilliant as Polly, nor so
+clever as Sylvia or your sister Nan, but somehow Betty is--well, I
+suppose she is what a real Princess ought to be. That is what Polly
+always declared. It is not just because she is pretty and generous, but
+she is so high-minded. Nothing would make her even appear to take
+advantage of a friend." And Meg sighed, her usually happy face clouding.
+
+In silence, then, the girl and young man walked on for a few moments
+when Anthony replied: "You must do as you like, of course, Meg. I have
+no right to ask you anything else. But this understanding between us
+means everything in the world to me and it was your own offer in the
+beginning."
+
+Meg nodded. "Yes, I know; but truly I don't think as much of my idea as
+I did at first. Still I am willing to keep quiet for a while longer if
+you wish it."
+
+At this moment there was no further opportunity for intimate
+conversation, for Meg's Harvard friend, Ralph Brown, made his appearance
+with a five-pound box of candy, elaborately tied with red ribbon, under
+his arm, and an expression on his face that suggested politely but
+firmly that Anthony Graham retire for the present, leaving the field to
+him.
+
+Of their friends in Boston only Margaret Adams and Richard Hunt had been
+invited by Esther and Dr. Ashton to have an informal Christmas dinner
+with them. For the dinner party the evening before had been such a
+domestic strain upon the little household that they wished to spend the
+following day quietly. But it was impossible to think of Margaret Adams
+dining alone in a great hotel, and she would certainly accept no
+invitation from her wealthier and more fashionable acquaintances in
+Boston. Moreover, Betty hoped that in the afternoon there might be a
+chance to talk of Polly. At the beginning no one had dreamed of
+including Richard Hunt in the invitation, as he was a comparative
+stranger; but Dick, having taken a sudden fancy to him, had calmly
+suggested his returning for Christmas day without due consultation with
+his family.
+
+Five minutes after starting for home with Dick and Esther, Mollie, Betty
+and Miss Adams, Mr. Hunt, with a murmured excuse which no one
+understood, asked to be excused from going further. He would join the
+party later if possible, but should he chance to be delayed dinner must
+on no account be kept waiting for him.
+
+His conduct did seem rather extraordinary, and although Dick and Esther
+betrayed no surprise, it was plain enough that Margaret Adams felt
+annoyed. She had introduced Mr. Hunt to her friends and so naturally
+felt responsible for his conduct.
+
+Though the man was aware of his apparent eccentricity and though his
+manners were usually nearly perfect, he now deliberately turned away
+from the little company. And in spite of his half-hearted suggestion of
+re-joining them he had little idea at present of when he would return.
+Deliberately he retraced his steps to the church which he had quitted
+only a few moments before.
+
+Already the place was nearly deserted. On the sidewalk the clergyman was
+saying farewell to a few final members of his congregation, while inside
+the sexton was closing the doors of the two side aisles, although the
+large door in the center still remained open. Hurriedly Mr. Hunt
+entered. And there, just as he had hoped to find her, was the figure of
+a girl sitting in a rather dejected attitude in one of the last pews.
+She had on a dark dress and a heavy long coat and about her head a thick
+veil was tied.
+
+Before he could reach her she had risen and was starting away.
+
+"Wait here for a moment, Miss O'Neill; we can find no other spot so
+quiet in which to have a talk," the man said sternly.
+
+Then as Polly flashed an indignant glance at him, attempting to pass as
+though she had neither seen nor recognized him, he added:
+
+"I know I have no right to intrude upon you, but unless you are willing
+to give me some explanation of why you are here and what you are doing,
+I shall tell the friends who are nearer to you than I am of my having
+seen you not only this morning, but last night as well."
+
+"Oh, please don't!" Polly's voice was trembling. "Really, truly, I am
+not doing anything wrong in staying here in Boston and not letting
+people hear. My mother knows where I am and what I am doing and of
+course I am not alone. Yes, it was utterly silly and reckless of me to
+have peeped in at Esther's dining-room window last night, but I was so
+dreadfully lonely and wanted to see everybody so much. How could I have
+dreamed that that wretched curtain would go banging away up in the air
+as it did? But anyhow, Mr. Hunt, I shall always be everlastingly
+grateful to you for not telling on me last night. I did not suppose you
+saw me and certainly never imagined you could have recognized me when I
+crouched down in the shadow."
+
+Unexpectedly Polly O'Neill laughed. "What a perfect idiot I should have
+looked if you had dragged me in before the dinner party like a spy or a
+thief or a beggar! I can just imagine Esther's and Mollie's
+expressions."
+
+"Yes, but all this is not quite to the point, Miss Polly," Richard Hunt
+continued, speaking however in a more friendly tone. "Am I to tell
+Margaret Adams and Betty Ashton that I have discovered you, or will you
+take me into your secret and let me decide what is best to be done
+afterwards?"
+
+"But you have not the right to do either the one thing nor the other,"
+the girl argued, lifting her veil for an instant in order to see if
+there was any sign of relenting in the face of her older friend.
+
+There was not the slightest. And Polly recognized that for once in her
+life she was beaten.
+
+"Don't say anything today then, please," she urged, looking into her
+pocketbook and finding there a card with a name and address written upon
+it. "But come to see me tomorrow if you like. And don't think that I am
+ungrateful or--or horrid," she ended abruptly, rushing away so swiftly
+that it would have been impossible for any one to have followed her
+without creating attention.
+
+Rather grimly Richard Hunt gazed at the card he held in his hand. It
+bore a name that was not Polly O'Neill's and the address of a quiet
+street in Boston. What on the face of the earth could she be doing? It
+was impossible to guess, and yet it was certainly nothing very unwise if
+her mother knew and approved of it.
+
+Whether or not he had the right to find out, Richard Hunt had positively
+decided to take advantage of his recognition of Polly O'Neill and insist
+upon her confidence. He could not have explained even to himself why he
+was so determined on this course of action. However, it was true, as her
+friend Betty Ashton had insisted the night before, whether or not you
+happened to feel a liking for Polly, you were not apt to forget her.
+
+In the past few months it was curious how often he had found himself
+wondering what had become of the girl. He recalled her having run away
+several years before to make her first stage appearance and then their
+meeting in Margaret Adams' drawing room in London later on. Well,
+perhaps curiosity was not alone a feminine trait of character, for
+Richard Hunt felt convinced he would be more at peace with himself and
+the world when he had learned Polly's story from her own lips.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII--After Her Fashion Polly Explains
+
+
+The next afternoon a dark-haired woman a little past thirty came into
+the boarding house sitting room to see Richard Hunt before Polly made
+her appearance.
+
+"I am Mrs. Martins, Miss O'Neill's chaperon," she explained. "Or if I am
+not exactly her chaperon at least we are together and I am trying to see
+that no harm befalls her. No, she is not calling herself by her own
+name, but she will prefer to give you her own reason for that. I have
+met her mother several times, so that of course I understand the
+situation." Mrs. Martins was a woman of refinement and of some education
+and her pronunciation of her own name showed her to be of French origin.
+
+Already the situation was slightly less mystifying. Yet there was still
+a great deal for Polly to make clear if she chose to do so. However, it
+was curious that she was taking so long a time to join them.
+
+Mrs. Martins continued to talk about nothing in particular, so it was
+evident that she intended making no betrayals. Now and then she even
+glanced toward the door in some embarrassment, as though puzzled and
+annoyed by her companion's delay. And while Richard Hunt was answering
+her politely if vaguely, actually he was on the point of deciding that
+Polly did not intend coming down stairs at all. Well perhaps it would
+serve him right, for what authority did he have for forcing the girl's
+confession? And she was certainly quite capable of punishing him by
+placing him in an absurd situation.
+
+Nevertheless nothing was farther from Polly O'Neill's intention at the
+present moment. She was merely standing before her mirror in her tiny
+upstairs bedroom trying to summon sufficient courage to meet her guest
+and tell her story.
+
+Once or twice she had started for the door only to return and stare at
+herself with intense disapproval. She had rubbed her cheeks with a crash
+towel until at least they were crimson enough, although the color was
+not very satisfying, and she had arranged her hair three times, only to
+decide at the last that she had best have left it alone at first.
+
+Now she made a little grimace at her own image, smiling at almost the
+same instant.
+
+"My beloved Princess or Mollie, I do wish you could lend me your good
+looks for the next half hour," she murmured half aloud. "It is so much
+easier to be eloquent and convincing in this world when one happens to
+be pretty. But I, well certainly I would serve as a perfect illustration
+of 'a rag and a bone and a hank of hair' at this moment if at no other."
+
+Polly glanced down at her costume with more satisfaction than she had
+found in surveying her face. It was not in the least shabby, but a very
+charming dress which her mother had sent as a part of her Christmas box.
+The dress was of dark red crepe de Chine with a velvet girdle and collar
+of the same shade. And although under ordinary circumstances it might
+have been becoming, today Polly was not wrong in believing that she was
+not looking even her poor best. She was tired and nervous. Of course it
+did not matter so very much what Mr. Hunt might think of the story she
+had to tell him, but later on there would be many other persons whom she
+would have to persuade to accept her point of view. And somehow she felt
+that if she failed to convince her first listener she must fail with the
+others.
+
+Then unexpectedly, before hearing the sound of her approach, Richard
+Hunt discovered a cold hand being extended to shake his, and in a voice
+even more chilling Polly O'Neill was apologizing for having kept him
+waiting. Yet on the way down the steps had she not positively made up
+her mind to be so cordial and agreeable that her visitor should forget
+her other deficiencies?
+
+With a feeling of amazement mixed with despair Polly seated herself in
+the darkest corner of a small sofa next Mrs. Martins, deciding that it
+was quite useless, that she should attempt no explanation. Mr. Hunt and
+her companion could talk together about the weather if they chose, for
+she could not think of a single word to say. Afterwards her visitor
+could go away and give any account of her he wished, although naturally
+this might frustrate all her hopes and ambitions and make her dearest
+friends angry with her for life. Yet if one were always to suffer from
+stage fright at all the critical moments of one's career what else could
+be expected?
+
+At this moment Mrs. Martins excused herself and left the room. Polly saw
+her go with a characteristic shrug of her shoulders and an odd glance at
+her visitor. The moment had come. Mr. Hunt would discover that she had
+not even the grace to keep her promise, and heaven alone knew what he
+would soon think of her.
+
+Yet after saying good-by to her companion he continued talking in the
+kindest possible fashion, telling her news of Esther and Dick Ashton,
+saying how much he admired Betty and Mollie.
+
+Indeed in less than five minutes Polly had actually managed to forget
+the reason for her visitor's call and was asking him questions about her
+old friends, faster than they could be answered.
+
+"Was their play, A Woman's Wit, still as great a success as it had been
+at the start? Was Margaret Adams well or had the winter's work used her
+up? Did Betty Ashton seem to have any special admirer in Boston?"
+
+Actually in a brief quarter of an hour Polly's eyes were shining and her
+lips smiling. Curled up comfortably on her sofa she suddenly appreciated
+that she was having the most agreeable time she had enjoyed in months.
+Then again her expression changed and her brief radiance vanished. Yet
+this time her companion understood.
+
+"Miss Polly," he said quickly, "please don't feel that after what
+happened yesterday I still mean to force you to make a confidant of me.
+The truth is I did want very much to hear that all was well with you and
+that you were not making any kind of mistake. I am not going to be a
+coward, so I confess that I came here today expecting to force your
+secret from you simply because I had an advantage over you. But, of
+course, now that we have been talking together I can see that you are
+all right, even if you do look rather tired and none too cheerful. So I
+want to apologize and then I shall go away and not worry you again. Also
+you may feel entirely assured that I shall not mention having seen you
+to any one."
+
+The man had risen from his chair, but before he could move a step
+forward, Polly had clasped her hands together and was gazing at him
+imploringly.
+
+"Oh, please, Mr. Hunt, don't go," she begged. "All of a sudden I have
+begun to feel that if I don't tell some one my secret and ask you to
+approve of me or at least to try to forgive me for what I am doing I
+shall perish." Actually Polly would now have pushed her visitor back
+into his chair if he had not sat down again so promptly as to make it
+unnecessary.
+
+"You are sure you wish to confide in me, Miss Polly? Of course you
+understand that I will tell no one. But if your mother knows and
+approves of you, why surely no other person is necessary," he argued.
+
+In reply the girl laughed. "Mother is an angel and for that reason
+perhaps she does not always approve or understand me exactly. In this
+case she is just permitting me to have my own way because she promised
+to let me try and do what I could to become a successful actress and she
+never goes back on her word. Of course my method seems queer to her and
+probably will to you. But after all it is the way I see things and one
+can't look out of any one's eyes but one's own. Surely you believe that,
+Mr. Hunt?"
+
+Of course any one who really understood Polly O'Neill, Betty Ashton for
+instance, would have understood at once that she was now beginning to
+explain her own wilfulness. Yet her question did sound convincing, for
+assuredly one can have no other vision than one's own.
+
+Richard Hunt nodded sympathetically, although Polly was looking so
+absurdly young and so desperately in earnest that he would have
+preferred to smile.
+
+She was leaning forward with her chin resting on her hand and gazing
+intently at him. What she saw was a man who seemed almost middle-aged to
+her. And yet to the girl he seemed almost ideally handsome. His features
+were strong and well-cut, the nose aquiline, the mouth large and firm.
+And he was wearing the kindest possible expression. For half an instant
+Polly's thoughts flew away from herself. Surely if any one in the world
+could be worthy of Margaret Adams it was Richard Hunt. Then she settled
+down to the telling of her own story.
+
+"You know of course, Mr. Hunt, without my having to say anything more
+about it, that ever since I was a little girl I have dreamed and hoped
+and prayed of some day becoming a great actress. Mother says that there
+was some one in my family once, one of my Irish aunts, I believe, who
+ran away from home in order to go on the stage and was never recognized
+again. I have thought sometimes that perhaps I inherited her ambition.
+One never knows about things like that, life is so queer. Anyhow when a
+dozen girls in Woodford formed a Camp Fire and we lived together in the
+woods for over a year working and playing, mother and Betty and my
+sister expected me to get over my foolish ideas and learn something
+through our club that might make me adopt a more sensible career. I
+don't mean to be rude to you, Mr. Hunt," Polly was profoundly serious,
+there was now no hint of amusement in her dark blue eyes or in her
+mobile face, "you understand I am only telling you what my family and
+friends thought about people who were actors--not what I think. I don't
+see why acting isn't just as great and useful as the other arts if one
+is conscientious and has real talent. But the trouble with me has been
+all along that I haven't any real talent. I suppose if I had been a
+genius from the first no one would have cared to oppose me. Well the
+Camp Fire did not influence me against what I wanted to do; it only made
+me feel more in earnest than I had ever been before. For we girls
+learned such a lot about courage and perseverance and being happy even
+if things were not going just the way one liked, that it has all been a
+great help to me recently, more than at any time in my life."
+
+Richard Hunt nodded gravely. "I see," he said quietly, although in point
+of fact he did not yet understand in the least what Polly was trying to
+explain, nor why she should review so much of her past life before
+coming to her point. He was curiously interested, although ordinarily he
+might have been bored by such a disjointed story.
+
+Polly was too intense at the moment to have bored anyone. There she sat
+in her red dress against the darker background of the sofa with her
+figure almost in shadow and the light falling only upon her odd, eager
+face.
+
+"I ran away from Miss Adams and from you, not because I was such a
+coward that I meant to give up the thing I was trying for, but because I
+knew that I must have a harder time if I was ever to amount to anything.
+You see people were trying to make things so easy for me and in a way
+they were making them more difficult. Margaret gave me that place in her
+company when I did not deserve it; you tried to show me how to act when
+I could not learn; my friends were complimenting me when all the time
+they must have known I was a failure. I couldn't bear it, Mr. Hunt;
+really I could not. I am lots of horrid things, but I am not a fraud.
+Then Margaret told me what a difficult time she had at the beginning of
+her career and how no one had helped her. Of course she meant to make me
+feel that I might be more successful because of my friends' aid, but I
+did not see things just that way. Oh, I do hope you had to work
+dreadfully hard at the beginning of your profession and had lots of
+failures," Polly concluded so unexpectedly and so solemnly that this
+time Richard Hunt could not refrain from laughing.
+
+"Oh no, it wasn't all plain sailing for me either, Miss Polly, and it
+isn't now for that matter, if it is of any help to you to know it," he
+added, realizing that his companion was absolutely unconscious of having
+said anything amusing.
+
+"Before I gave up trying to act Belinda I got a small position in a
+cheap stock company." Polly had at last reached the point of her story.
+"The company has been traveling through New England all winter and is
+still on the road. We only happened to be in Boston during the holidays.
+I have been playing almost any kind of part, sometimes I am a maid,
+sometimes a lady-in-waiting to the queen; once or twice, when the star
+has been ill, I have had to take the character of the heroine. Of course
+all this must sound very silly and commonplace to you, Mr. Hunt, but
+honestly I am learning a few things: not to be so self-conscious for one
+thing and to work very, very hard."
+
+"Too hard, Miss Polly, I am afraid," Richard Hunt replied, looking
+closely at his companion and feeling oddly moved by her confession.
+Perhaps the girl's effort would amount to nothing and perhaps she was
+unwise in having made it, nevertheless one could not but feel sorry that
+her friends had suspected her of ingratitude and lack of affection and
+that she was engaged in some kind of foolish escapade. Richard Hunt felt
+extremely guilty himself at the moment.
+
+"Oh no, I am not working too hard or at least not too hard for my
+health," Polly argued. "You see both my mother and Sylvia are looking
+after me. Sylvia made me promise her once, when I did not understand
+what she meant, that I would let her know what I was doing all this
+winter. So I have kept my promise and every once and a while good old
+Sylvia travels to where I happen to be staying and looks me over and
+gives me pills and things." Polly smiled. "You don't know who Sylvia is
+and it is rather absurd of me to talk to you so intimately about my
+family. Sylvia is my step-sister, but she used to be merely my friend
+when we were girls. She is younger than I am but a thousand times
+cleverer and is studying to be a physician. She has not much respect for
+my judgment but she is rather fond of me."
+
+"And your chaperon?" Perhaps Mr. Hunt realized that he was asking a good
+many questions when he and Polly O'Neill were still comparative
+strangers; yet he was too much concerned for her welfare at present to
+care.
+
+Polly did not seem to be either surprised or offended by his
+questioning, but pleased to have some one in whom she might confide.
+
+"Oh, just at first mother sent one of her old friends about everywhere
+with me. But when she got tired we found this Mrs. Martins who was
+having a hard time in New York and needed something to do. She is really
+awfully nice and is teaching me French in our spare moments. She used to
+be a dressmaker, I believe, but could not get enough work to do."
+Suddenly Polly straightened up and put out her hand this time in an
+exceedingly friendly fashion.
+
+"Goodness, Mr. Hunt, what a dreadfully long time I have been keeping you
+here and how good you have been to listen to me so patiently!" she
+exclaimed. "You will keep my secret for me, won't you? This winter I
+don't want my friends to know what I am trying to do or to come to see
+me act. I have not improved enough so far."
+
+Still holding Polly's hand in a friendly clasp, her visitor rose.
+
+"But you will let me come, won't you?" he urged. "You see I am in your
+secret now and so I am different from other people. Besides I am very
+grateful to you for your faith in me and I don't like to remember now
+that I first tried bullying you into confiding in me."
+
+Polly's answering sigh was one of relief. "I don't seem to mind even
+that, although I was angry and frightened at first," she returned. "I
+don't usually enjoy doing what people make me do. But if you think you
+really would like to come to see me play, perhaps I should be rather
+glad. Only you must promise not to let me know when you are there, nor
+what you think of my acting afterwards."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII--A Place of Memories
+
+
+
+"I wonder, Angel, if you had ever heard of my friend, Polly O'Neill,
+before I mentioned her name to you?" Betty Ashton asked after a few
+moments of silence between the two girls, when evidently Betty had been
+puzzling over this same question.
+
+Angel shook her head. "Never," she returned quietly.
+
+Five months had passed since their first meeting and now the scene about
+them was a very different one from the four bare walls of a hospital,
+and the little French girl was almost as completely changed.
+
+It was early spring in the New Hampshire hills and the child and young
+woman were seated outside a cabin of logs with their eyes resting
+sometimes on a small lake before them, again on a dark group of pine
+trees, but more often on a sun-tipped hill ahead where the meadows
+seemed to lie down in green homage at her feet.
+
+Everywhere there were signs of the earth's eternal re-birth and
+re-building. The grain showed only a tiny hint of its autumn harvest of
+gold, but the grass, the flowers, the new leaves on the bushes and trees
+were at their gayest and loveliest. Notwithstanding there was a breeze
+cool enough to make warm clothes a necessity, and Betty wore a long dark
+blue cloth cloak, while her companion, who was lying at full length in a
+steamer chair, was covered with a heavy rug. Yet the girl's delicate
+white hands were busily engaged in weaving long strands of
+bright-colored straws together.
+
+"Why did you think I had ever heard of your friend, Princess?" she
+queried after a short pause.
+
+[Illustration: "Why Did You Think I Had Ever Heard of Your Friend?"]
+
+Keeping her finger in a volume of Tennyson's poems which she had been
+supposed to be reading, the older girl gazed thoughtfully and yet almost
+unseeingly into the dark eyes of her companion. "I don't know exactly,"
+she replied thoughtfully, "only for some strange reason since our
+earliest acquaintance you have always made me think of Polly. You don't
+look like her, of course, though there is just a suggestion in your
+expression now and then. Perhaps because you were so interested in her
+when I began telling of our Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls. I don't
+believe you would ever have been able to endure me you know, Angel dear,
+if you had not liked hearing me talk of Polly; then think of what good
+times we should both have missed!"
+
+Across the little French girl's face a warm flush spread.
+
+"It is like you to say 'we' should have missed," she replied softly.
+"But I never hated you, you were always mistaken in believing that. From
+the morning you first came to the hospital and ever afterwards I thought
+you the prettiest person I had ever seen in my life and one of the
+sweetest. It was only that in those early days I was too miserable to
+speak to any one. Always I was afraid I should break down if I tried to
+talk, so when the other girls attempted being nice to me I pretended I
+was sullen and hateful when in reality I was a coward. It was just the
+same when you started the 'Shut-In Camp Fire' among the girls. I would
+not join, I would not take the slightest interest in the beginning for
+much the same reason. But you were always so patient and agreeable to me
+and so was Miss Mollie. Then there was always Cricket!" Smiling, she
+paused for a moment listening.
+
+Inside Sunrise cabin both girls could hear the noise of several persons
+moving about as though deeply engaged in some important business.
+
+"I suppose I ought to go in and help," Betty remarked in a slightly
+conscience-smitten tone, "but Mollie does so enjoy fussing about getting
+things ready. And in spite of all my efforts and stern Camp Fire
+training I shall never be so good a cook as she is. Besides, both Mollie
+and Cricket informed me politely, after I finished cleaning our rooms
+and had set the luncheon table, that I was somewhat in the way. I
+suppose I had best go in, though. Is there anything I can do for you
+first, Angel? Cricket is beating that cake batter so hard it sounds like
+a drum."
+
+Betty had half risen from her chair when the expression in her
+companion's face made her sit down again. "What is it?" she asked.
+
+For a moment the other girl's fingers ceased their busy weaving. "You
+have never asked me anything about myself, Princess, in spite of all the
+wonderful things you have done for me," she began. "I don't want to bore
+you, but I should like----"
+
+With a low laugh Betty suddenly hunched her chair forward until it was
+close up against the larger one.
+
+"And I, I am perfectly dying to hear, you must know, you dear little
+goose, to talk about boring me! Don't you know I am one of the most
+curious members of my curious sex? I have not asked you questions
+because I did not feel I had the right unless you wished to tell. But
+possibly I asked that question about Polly O'Neill just to give you a
+chance. Really I don't know."
+
+In spite of this small confession, not for worlds would Betty Ashton
+have allowed the sensitive little French girl to have learned another
+reason for her questioning. It was odd and certainly unreasonable, yet
+in all her recent kindness and care of Angelique she had continued to
+feel that in some mysterious fashion her friend, Polly O'Neill, was
+encouraging and aiding her. There was some one at work, assuredly,
+though she had no shadow of right in believing it to be Polly. For
+though she had confided in no one, the first anonymous letter in regard
+to the ill girl had not been the last one. In truth there must have been
+half a dozen in all, postmarked at different places and all of them
+unsigned and yet showing a remarkably intimate knowledge of the growing
+friendship between the two girls.
+
+The first step had been natural and simple enough. For with her usual
+enthusiasm after her visit to the hospital Betty had immediately set
+about forming a Camp Fire. She had sent for all the literature she could
+find on the subject, the club manual and songs. Then she and Mollie,
+during her visit, and sometimes Meg, had taught the new club members as
+much as possible of what they had themselves learned during the old days
+at Sunrise Hill.
+
+For the first few meetings of the club in the great, sunny hospital room
+there was one solitary girl who would not show the least interest in the
+new and delightful proceedings. Indeed she kept on with her stupid
+gazing up toward the ceiling as if she were both deaf and blind.
+
+However, one day when she believed no one looking and while the other
+girls were talking of their future aims and ambitions and of the ways in
+which their new club might help them, unexpectedly Betty Ashton had
+caught sight of Angelique, with her dark eyes fixed almost despairingly
+upon her.
+
+The other girls were all busy, some of them sewing on their new
+ceremonial Camp Fire costumes of khaki, others making bead bands or
+working at basket weaving. In the meanwhile they were talking of Camp
+Fire honors to be won in the future and of the new names which they
+might hope to attain.
+
+Therefore, almost unnoticed by any one else, Betty was able to cross
+over to the side of the French girl's bed.
+
+"I was wondering if I could not also do some of that pretty work with my
+hands," the girl began at once, speaking as composedly as if she had
+been talking to Betty every day since their first meeting, although this
+was only the second time that she had ever voluntarily addressed a word
+to her.
+
+Without commenting or appearing surprised, Betty brought over to her
+bedside a quantity of bright straw and straightaway commenced showing
+the girl the first principles of the art of basket-weaving which she had
+learned in the Sunrise Camp Fire. Very little instruction was necessary;
+for, before the first lesson was over, the pupil had learned almost as
+much as her teacher. Indeed the French girl's skill with her hands was
+an amazement to everybody. With her third effort and without assistance,
+Angel manufactured so charming a basket that Betty bore it home in
+triumph to show to her brother and sister. Then quite by accident the
+basket was left in Esther's sitting room, where a visitor, seeing it and
+hearing the story of its weaving, asked permission to purchase it.
+
+After some discussion, and fearful of how the girl might receive the
+offer, Betty finally summoned courage to tell Angelique. Thus
+unexpectedly Betty came upon one of the secrets of her new friend's
+nature. Angel had an inordinate, a passionate desire for making money.
+She was older than any one had imagined her, between fourteen and
+fifteen. Now her hands were no longer clenched on her coverlid nor did
+her eyes turn resolutely to gaze at nothingness. Propped up on her
+pillows, her white fingers were ever busy at dozens of tasks. Betty had
+found a place in Boston where her baskets were sold almost as fast as
+she could make them. Then Angelique knew quite amazing things about
+sewing, so that Esther sent her several tiny white frocks to be
+delicately embroidered, and always the other girls at the hospital were
+asking her aid and advice.
+
+Quite astonishing the doctors considered the girl's rapid improvement.
+Perhaps no one had told them the secret, for she now had an interest in
+life and a chance not to be always useless. Was it curious that she no
+longer disliked Betty Ashton and that she soon became the leading spirit
+in the new Camp Fire?
+
+Afterwards the Wohelo candles were placed on a small table near Angel's
+bed while the girls formed their group about her.
+
+Then one day in early April the Princess had whispered something in
+Angel's ear. It was only a hope or at best a plan, yet, after all, Betty
+Ashton was a kind of fairy godmother to whom all impossible things were
+possible.
+
+For Sunrise cabin was undoubtedly open once again with four girls as its
+occupants--Betty Ashton and Mollie O'Neill, Cricket and "The Angel."
+
+"I am afraid you won't find my story as interesting as you would like it
+to be," Angel said after a moment. "And perhaps it may prejudice you
+against me. I don't believe Americans think of these things as French
+people do. But my father was a ballet master and ever since I was the
+tiniest little girl I had been taught to dance and dance, almost to do
+nothing else. You see I was to be a premiere danseuse some day," Angel
+continued quite simply and calmly, scarcely noticing that Betty's face
+had paled through sympathy and that she was biting her lips and
+resolutely turning away her eyes from the fragile figure stretched out
+in the long steamer chair.
+
+"I was born in Paris, but when I was only a few years old my father came
+to New York and was one of the assistant ballet masters at your great
+opera house. Ten years later, I think it must have been, I was trying a
+very difficult dance and in some way I had a fall. I did not know it was
+very bad, we paid no attention to it, then this came." The little French
+girl shrugged her shoulders. "My father died soon after and mother tried
+taking care of us both. She did sewing at the theaters and anything else
+she could. She wasn't very successful. One day a chance came for me to
+have special treatment in Boston. I was sent there and mother got some
+other work to do. I have only seen her once in months and months. But
+you can understand now why I am so anxious to make money. I was afraid
+perhaps you would not. I don't want to be a burden on mother always and
+now I think perhaps I need not be."
+
+Angel spoke with entire cheerfulness and decision. It did not seem even
+to have occurred to her that she had been telling her friend an
+amazingly tragic little history. Nor did Betty Ashton wish her to
+realize how deeply affected she was by it. So, jumping up with rather an
+affectation of hurry and surprise, she kissed her companion lightly on
+the cheek.
+
+"Thank you a thousand times for confiding in me, dear, and please don't
+be hopeless about never getting well. See how much you have improved!
+But there comes the first of our guests to lunch, a whole half hour too
+soon. But as long as Billy Webster promised to bring us the mail from
+Woodford I suppose I must forgive him. Anyhow I must try to keep him
+from worrying Mollie. She would be dreadfully bored to have him see her
+before she is dressed." Betty walked away for a few steps and then came
+back again.
+
+"You will never understand perhaps, Angel, how much my learning to know
+you this winter has done for me. I was dreadfully unhappy over something
+myself, and perhaps I am still, but coming to visit you in Boston and
+then our being together down here has cheered me immensely. I know you
+are a great deal younger than I am, but if Polly O'Neill never writes me
+again or wishes to have anything more to do with me, perhaps some day
+you may be willing to be my very, very intimate friend. You see I have
+not had even a single line from Polly in months and months and I can't
+even guess what on earth has become of her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV--A Sudden Summons
+
+
+Though Billy Webster had brought with him from the village half a dozen
+letters and as many papers, no one of the dwellers in Sunrise cabin was
+able to read anything for three or four hours after his arrival.
+
+For Betty and Mollie were having an informal luncheon. But indeed, ever
+since taking up their abode at the cabin several weeks before, they had
+never passed a single day without guests. For it was too much like old
+times for their Woodford friends to find the door of the little house
+once more hospitably open, with a log fire burning in the big fire place
+in the living room and the movement and laughter of girls inside the old
+cabin and out.
+
+At present there were only the four of them living there together with
+the Ashton's old Irish cook, Ann, as their guardian, chaperon and first
+aid in domestic difficulties. Later on, there would be other members of
+the Sunrise Hill club, who were already looking forward to spending
+their holidays at the cabin.
+
+As a matter of course, Billy Webster was at present their most frequent
+visitor, although his calls were ordinarily short. Almost every morning
+he used to ride up to the cabin on horseback to see if things had gone
+well with his friends during the night, or to ask if there were any
+errands in the village which he could do or have done for them. For you
+may remember that the land on which the cabin stood had been bought from
+Billy's father and was not far from their farm. Billy now seemed to be
+the only one of their former boy friends who was able to come often to
+the old cabin.
+
+John Everett was at work in the broker's office in New York City, Frank
+Wharton had only just returned from his honeymoon journey with Eleanor
+Meade, and Anthony Graham was attending a session of the New Hampshire
+Legislature and probably spending his week ends in visits to Meg
+Everett. There were other men friends, assuredly, who appeared at the
+cabin now and then, but they had fewer associations with the past.
+
+Betty was looking forward to John Everett's coming a little later; but
+she had begged him to wait until they were more comfortably settled and
+the two younger girls had grown accustomed to their new surroundings.
+
+Today Rose Barton and Faith had driven out to the cabin for luncheon and
+Mrs. Crippen, Betty's step-mother with the new small step-brother, who
+was an adorable red-haired baby with the pinkest of cheeks and the
+bluest eyes in the world. Then, soon after lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Frank
+Wharton appeared in their up-to-date motor car, which had been Frank's
+wedding gift from his father.
+
+So it was a simple enough matter to understand why neither Betty nor
+Mollie had the opportunity even to glance inside the envelopes of their
+letters, though Mollie recognized that she had received one from her
+mother and Betty saw that Mrs. Wharton had also written to her. There
+was nothing unusual in this, for Betty and Mrs. Wharton had always
+remained intimate and devoted friends, just as they had been since Betty
+was a tiny girl and Mrs. Wharton, as Mrs. O'Neill, lived across the
+street from the big Ashton house.
+
+Certainly for the time being the two hostesses had their attention fully
+distracted by their social responsibilities. For Mollie had direct
+charge of the luncheon party, while to Betty had fallen the duty of
+seeing that their friends learned to understand one another and to have
+a gay time.
+
+It was a pleasure for her to observe what an interest Faith Barton had
+immediately seemed to feel in her little French girl. For one could only
+think of Angelique as a child, she was so tiny and fragile with all her
+delicate body hidden from view save her quaint, vivid face and slender
+arms.
+
+Faith herself had been a curious child, and though now so nearly grown,
+was not in the least like an every-day person. She was extremely pretty,
+suggesting a fair young saint in an old Italian picture; and still she
+loved dreams better than realities and books more than people.
+Ordinarily she was very shy; yet here in Angelique, Faith believed that
+she had probably found the friend of her heart. The French girl seemed
+romance personified, and delicately and gently she set out to woo her.
+But Angel was not easy to win, she was still cold and frightened with
+all persons except her fairy princess. Nevertheless, Betty sincerely
+hoped that the two girls might eventually learn to care truly for each
+other.
+
+They were so different in appearance that it was an artistic pleasure to
+see them together. Faith was so soft and fair; Angel so dark and with
+such possibilities of restrained vivacity and passion. Then the older
+girl knew so little of real life, while the younger one had already
+touched its sorrows too deeply.
+
+After all, it was really Faith's sudden attachment that kept the guests
+at the cabin longer than they had intended to remain.
+
+At four o'clock, fearing the excitement too much for her protege, Betty
+had persuaded the girl to retire to bed. Faith had at once insisted on
+having tea alone in the room with Angel so that they might have a chance
+for a really intimate conversation. It was Faith, however, who did all
+the talking, nor did she even have the satisfaction of knowing that her
+new acquaintance had enjoyed her. Certainly the French girl was going to
+be difficult; yet perhaps to a romantic nature mystery is the greatest
+attraction.
+
+Actually it was almost six o'clock when the last visitor had finally
+departed from Sunrise cabin and Mollie and Betty had a few quiet moments
+together. It had been a beautiful day and now when the sun was sinking
+behind the hill, spreading its radiance over the world, the two friends
+stepped outside the cabin door for a short breathing spell.
+
+Betty had completely forgotten her unopened letters; she was thinking of
+something entirely different, and her gray eyes were not free from a
+certain wistfulness as she looked around the familiar landscape. All day
+long, although she had done her best at concealment, she had felt
+vaguely restless and unhappy. There had been no definite reason, except,
+perhaps, the pathetic story confided to her earlier in the day.
+
+Suddenly Mollie O'Neill turned toward her friend, at the same instant
+drawing two letters from her pocket.
+
+"I declare, Betty dear, I have not had a single moment of leisure all
+day, not even time to read mother's letter. Have you? I do hope she had
+nothing of special importance to say. I thought she might possibly come
+and see us for a while this afternoon."
+
+Seeing Mollie open Mrs. Wharton's note and beginning to read it, Betty
+immediately followed her example. But the moment after both girls turned
+their eyes from studying the sheets of paper before them to stare
+curiously at each other.
+
+"How very extraordinary and how very unlike mother!" exclaimed Mollie
+O'Neill in a puzzled fashion.
+
+"Surely she must know that it is quite out of the question for us to do
+what she asks," Betty went on, as if continuing her friend's sentence.
+"She understands that we have just come to the cabin and that we have
+promised to take the best kind of care of Angel and Cricket with Dr.
+Barton's assistance. Of course, Mollie, you may have to do what your
+mother says, but do please make her understand that it is impossible for
+me. I wish she was not so insistent, though, it makes it dreadfully
+difficult to refuse. Does your letter say that you must leave for New
+York City as early as possible tomorrow and join your mother at the
+Astor Hotel?"
+
+Mollie nodded, still frowning. "If mother wished us to go to New York
+with her on business, or pleasure, or for whatever reason, I cannot see
+why she did not wait and let us all go together tomorrow. I simply can't
+see why she should rush off this morning as her letter says and leave us
+to follow the next day. But I suppose if you can get some one to stay on
+here at the cabin with you, dear, that I must do as mother asks. You
+see, she writes that it is a matter of great importance that has called
+her away and that she is relying on my being with her."
+
+Reading her own letter for the second time, Betty folded it thoughtfully
+and replaced it inside the envelope. "Of course you must go, Mollie,
+without a shadow of a doubt," she answered positively. "Rose and Faith
+will come out here and stay for a few days and Dr. Barton will be with
+them at night. I shall be rather glad to have them know Angel better; it
+might help her in a good many ways. The thing that troubles me is
+whether I ought to go with you. You see your mother also writes that she
+is relying on having me with her as well. Though she does not give me
+her reason, still she is very positive. She says that my coming to New
+York at the present time will mean a great deal to me personally, and
+moreover she particularly desires me to be with you." Betty slowly shook
+her head. "I don't see exactly how I can refuse; do you, Mollie? I don't
+believe your mother has ever been really angry with me in my life and I
+should so hate her to be now. Besides I think it would be rather fun to
+go, and of course Rose would look after things for a few days."
+
+"Then it is decided?" and Mollie breathed a sigh of mingled relief and
+pleasure. "Well, I must go in at once and telephone Billy and ask him to
+look up time-tables and things. Mother has sent me a check big enough to
+pay our expenses if you do not happen to have the money at the cabin
+with you."
+
+All the hours following that evening and in the early morning were too
+busy with preparations and explanations to allow of much conjecture; yet
+in the back of their minds both girls were trying to work out the same
+problem.
+
+What conceivable thing could have happened to make Mrs. Wharton summon
+them to New York in this odd fashion? Could it have anything to do with
+Polly? But if Polly had been taken suddenly ill, would Mrs. Wharton not
+have given them some slight warning, some preparation for the shock that
+might lie ahead of them? Yet it was idle to make vain guesses or to
+worry without cause. In a short while Mrs. Wharton would, of course,
+explain the whole situation.
+
+As passengers on the earliest afternoon train that left Woodford for New
+York City next day, Mollie and Betty had already forgotten their first
+opposition to this journey to New York. All at once it appeared like a
+very delightful and natural excursion. If Mrs. Wharton had occasion to
+spend several days in New York what more agreeable than spending the
+time with her? There would be the shops and theaters to visit and a
+glimpse at the new spring fashions. Moreover, Betty did not altogether
+object to the idea of possibly seeing John Everett. They were old
+friends and his open admiration and attention meant a great deal to her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV--"Little Old New York"
+
+
+Mrs. Wharton did not seem to consider that an explanation was imperative
+immediately upon the arrival of the two girls in New York. At the
+Forty-second street station she met them in a taxi, and certainly in
+traveling to their hotel through the usual exciting crush of motors,
+carriages and people there was no opportunity for serious questioning.
+
+They were to go to a musical as soon as dinner was over and there was
+just sufficient time to dress. So Betty went almost at once to her own
+room adjoining Mrs. Wharton's, while Mollie occupied the room with her
+mother.
+
+Once while Mrs. Wharton was adjusting the drapery on a new frock which
+she had purchased for her daughter only that afternoon, Mollie turned
+toward her mother with her blue eyes suddenly serious. Up to that
+instant she had been too much absorbed in her frock to think of anything
+else.
+
+"Why in the world, mother, did you send for us to join you in New York
+so unexpectedly? If you were thinking of coming, why did you not motor
+out and tell us? Or you might at least have telephoned," she said.
+
+Mrs. Wharton's face was not visible, as she was engaged for the moment
+in the study of the new gown. "I made up my mind quite hurriedly, dear.
+There was nothing I could explain over the telephone. Besides, I have
+heard you and Betty say a dozen times that nothing gave you as much
+pleasure as a trip taken without any special discussion or preparation.
+Don't you think we will have a charming time, just the three of us,
+dining at the different hotels, going to the theaters? I believe one
+calls it 'doing New York.' But hurry, now, and finish fixing your hair.
+I must go and see if I can be of any assistance to the Princess." And
+Mrs. Wharton hurried off without even attempting to answer her
+daughter's question.
+
+Almost the same result followed a more deliberate attempt at
+cross-examination which took place at breakfast the following morning.
+This time both Mollie and Betty started forth as determined questioners.
+Why had they been summoned so suddenly to New York? What was the very
+important reason for their presence? It was all very charming, of
+course, and frankly both girls were delighted with the opportunity that
+had been given them. Still they both thought it only natural and fair
+that they should be offered some solution to the puzzle of their
+mysterious and hasty letters.
+
+Mrs. Wharton only laughed and shrugged her shoulders ever so slightly,
+in a manner always suggestive of Polly. She did not see why she had to
+be taken to task so seriously because of an agreeable invitation. Had
+she said that there was some urgent reason for her request? Well, was it
+not sufficient that she wished the society of the two girls?
+
+Then deliberately picking up the morning paper Mrs. Wharton refused to
+listen to any further remarks addressed to her. A few moments
+afterwards, observing that her companions had wandered from their
+original topic and were criticizing the appearance of a young woman a
+few tables away, a smile suddenly crumpled the corners of her mouth.
+
+"Mollie, Betty, there are the most wonderful advertisements in the
+papers this morning of amazing bargains. Mollie, you and I both need new
+opera cloaks dreadfully and Mr. Wharton has said we might both have
+them. Of course we will shop all morning, but what shall we do tonight?
+Go to the theater, I suppose. When country people are in town an evening
+not spent at the theater is almost a wasted one."
+
+Mollie laughed. "This from mother!" she exclaimed. "Think what you used
+to tell poor Polly about the wickedness of things theatrical! But of
+course I should rather go than do anything else."
+
+Mrs. Wharton glanced toward Betty, who appeared to be blushing slightly
+without apparent cause.
+
+"I am afraid I can't go with you, if you don't mind," she explained.
+"You see I promised John Everett that I would see him tonight. He wrote
+asking me to give him my first evening, but I thought it better to make
+it the second."
+
+"Well, bring John along with us, Betty dear," Mrs. Wharton returned. "I
+should like very much to have him and besides I don't believe I should
+like you to go out with him alone in New York or to see him here at the
+hotel unless I am with you. People are more conventional here, dear,
+than in a small place."
+
+Betty nodded. "Of course, we shall be delighted to be with you. What
+play shall we see?"
+
+Thoughtfully Mrs. Wharton picked up for the second time the temporarily
+discarded paper and commenced studying the list of theatrical
+attractions.
+
+"There is a little Irish play that has been running here in New York for
+about a month that is a great success," she said. "I think I should very
+much like to see it if you girls don't mind. It is called Moira. I hope
+we shall be able to get good seats."
+
+The little party of three did not get back to the hotel until after tea
+time that afternoon and were then compelled to lie down, as they were
+completely worn out from shopping. But fatigue made no difference in the
+interest of the toilets which the girls made for the evening. John
+Everett had been invited to dinner as well, and most unexpectedly Mr.
+Wharton had telegraphed that he was running down from Woodford for
+twenty-four hours and was bringing Billy Webster along with him. They
+would probably manage to arrive at about eight o'clock and would dress
+as quickly as possible. Dinner was not to be delayed on their account.
+They expected to dine on the train.
+
+Of course Betty had promptly yielded to temptation and bought herself a
+new evening frock before the shopping expedition had been under way two
+hours. Mrs. Wharton had bought Mollie a charming one only the day before
+and was now buying her an opera coat to make the toilet complete. It was
+extravagant; Betty fully appreciated her own weakness. Was she not at
+great expense keeping Sunrise cabin open and looking after her two new
+friends? However, she had not been to New York for months and would
+probably not be there again in a longer time and the frock was a rare
+bargain and should not be overlooked. But every woman and girl
+thoroughly understands the arguments that must be gone through
+conscientiously before yielding to the sure temptation of clothes.
+
+Assuredly Betty felt no pangs of conscience when she looked at herself
+in the mirror a few moments before dinner time and just as she was about
+to join her friends. The dress was simple and not expensive, white crepe
+de Chine with a tunic of chiffon, adorned with a wide corn-colored
+girdle and little chiffon roses of the same shade, bordering the neck
+and elbow sleeves. Betty wore a bunch of violets at her waist. Mollie
+was in pure white, which was particularly becoming to her because of her
+dark hair and fair skin.
+
+But although the two girls had never looked prettier and although Mrs.
+Wharton was now past forty, a number of persons, seeing the little
+party, might have thought her the best-looking of the three. For even in
+her early girlhood, when she had been the recognized belle of Woodford,
+never had she seemed more radiant, more full of vitality and happiness.
+She wore a curious blue and silver silk dress with a diamond ornament in
+her beautiful gray hair.
+
+All during dinner both Mollie and Betty discovered themselves gazing at
+Mrs. Wharton admiringly and with some wonder. For not only was she
+looking handsomer than usual, but seemed to be in the gayest spirits.
+Neither John Everett nor the girls had the opportunity for much
+conversation, as Mrs. Wharton absorbed the greater part of it.
+
+However, after Billy and Mr. Wharton had joined them, the four young
+people drove together to the theater, Mr. and Mrs. Wharton following in
+a second cab.
+
+The theater party was by this time such a large one, that, although
+there had been no mention made of it beforehand, no one was surprised at
+being shown a box instead of orchestra seats. However, the fact that the
+box was already occupied by two other figures was a tremendous surprise
+to Mollie and Betty.
+
+One of them was a tall young man with black hair, a singularly well-cut
+though rather pale face, and handsome hazel eyes. The other was a girl,
+rather under medium height, with light hair and a figure as expressive
+of strength and quiet determination as her face.
+
+"Why, Sylvia Wharton, what on earth has brought you to New York at such
+a time?" Mollie O'Neill demanded, throwing her arm affectionately around
+her step-sister's waist and drawing her into the rear of the box. "I
+didn't think any power on earth could persuade you to leave those
+dreadful studies of yours so near examination time!"
+
+"Oh, I am one of mother's surprises for you in New York!" Sylvia replied
+as calmly as though she had always known the whole story of the two
+girls' unexpected journey. Calmness was ever a trait of Sylvia's
+character.
+
+Mollie was so excited by this unlooked-for meeting with her younger
+sister that she would give no one else a chance to speak to her. The
+girls and their two escorts had arrived before Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, and
+it was therefore Mollie's place to have welcomed their second guest or
+at least to have spoken to him.
+
+Under the circumstances Betty Ashton found herself compelled to offer
+her hand to Anthony Graham before any one else seemed aware of his
+presence. She was surprised to see him, she explained, yet very glad he
+happened to be in town for the evening. Betty was polite, certainly;
+still, no one could have exactly accused her of cordiality. Therefore
+Anthony was not sorry that the arrival of his host and hostess at this
+instant spared her from further effort.
+
+The evening was apparently to continue one of surprises. For no sooner
+had Mrs. Wharton's party seated themselves in their box than Mollie
+touched Betty and Sylvia lightly with her fan.
+
+"See, dears," she whispered, "look straight across the theater at the
+box opposite us. There is Margaret Adams and that good-looking Mr. Hunt,
+who used to be a friend of Polly's." Mollie turned to her mother. "Did
+you know Miss Adams was in New York? I thought she and Mr. Hunt were
+still acting."
+
+Mrs. Wharton shook her head. "No, dear, their tour ended a week or more
+ago. Miss Adams is here in New York resting. She will not play again
+until next fall, I believe. Yes, I have seen her once since I came to
+town. But don't talk, I wish to study my program."
+
+With this suggestion both Mollie and Betty glanced for an instant at the
+list of characters in the center of their books of the play. Peggy Moore
+was the star of the performance. She was a young actress who must have
+earned her reputation quite recently, for no one had heard of her until
+a short while before.
+
+The bell rang for the raising of the curtain and at the same time
+Margaret Adams blew a kiss to the girls from behind her fan.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI--"Moira"
+
+
+The first scene of the play opened upon a handsome New York drawing
+room, where preparations were evidently being made for a ball, for the
+room was filled with flowers, and servants were seen walking in and out,
+completing the final arrangements. Within a few moments two girls
+wearing dainty tea gowns, stole quietly down the stairway and stood in
+the center of the stage, discussing their approaching entertainment.
+They were both pretty and fashionable young women, evidently about
+eighteen and twenty-one. From their conversation it soon became evident
+that they were of plain origin and making a desperate effort to secure a
+place for themselves among the "smart set" in New York City. Moreover,
+they were spending more money than they should in the effort. The father
+had been an Irish politician, but, as he had died several years before,
+no outsiders knew the extent of the family fortune. Upon the horizon
+there was a friend upon whom much depended. He was evidently a member of
+an old New York family and of far better social standing than the rest
+of their acquaintances; moreover, he was wealthy, handsome and agreeable
+and had paid the older of the two sisters, Kate, somewhat marked
+attention.
+
+When after a few moments' delay the second scene was revealed the ball
+had already begun. The stage setting was remarkably beautiful, the
+costumes charming and the dialogue clever. Yet so far the play had no
+poignant interest, so that now and then Betty found her attention
+wandering.
+
+What could have made this little play such a pronounced success that the
+dramatic critics had been almost universal in their praise of it? she
+wondered. What special charm did it have which crowded the theater every
+evening as it was crowded tonight? It was only a frivolous society drama
+of a kind that must have been acted many times before.
+
+Behind her lace handkerchief Betty gracefully concealed a yawn. Then she
+glanced across the theater toward Margaret Adams' box, hoping she might
+catch another smile or nod from the great lady. But Miss Adams was
+leaning forward with her figure tense with interest and her eyes
+fastened in eager expectancy upon a door at the rear of the stage. Back
+of her, and it seemed to Betty even at this distance, that his face
+looked unusually white and strained, stood Richard Hunt. Assuredly he
+seemed as intent upon the play as Miss Adams.
+
+Betty stared at the stage again. A dance had just ended, the guests were
+separating into groups and standing about talking. But a timid knock now
+sounded on the door which apparently no one heard. A moment later this
+door is slowly opened. There followed a murmur of excitement, a little
+electric thrill passing through the audience so that unexpectedly Betty
+found her own pulses tingling with interest and excitement. What a goose
+she had been! Surely she had heard half a dozen times at least that the
+success of this new play was entirely due to the charm and talent of the
+young actress, Peggy Moore, who took the part of the heroine.
+
+At the open door the newcomer was seen hesitating. No one noticed her,
+then she walked timidly forward and stood alone in the center of the
+stage, one of the most appealing, delicious and picturesque of figures
+in the world of fiction or reality.
+
+The girl was wearing an absurd costume, a bright red blouse, open at the
+throat, a plaid skirt too short for the slender legs beneath it and a
+big flapping straw hat decorated with a single rose. In one hand she
+carried an old-fashioned carpet bag and in the other a tiny Maltese
+kitten. The girl had two long braids of black hair that hung below her
+waist, scarlet lips, a white imploring face and wistful, humorous,
+tender blue eyes.
+
+Betty was growing cold to the tips of her fingers, although her face
+flushed until it felt almost painful. Then she overheard a queer,
+half-restrained sound near her and the next instant Mrs. Wharton leaned
+forward from her place and placed a hand on her arm and on Mollie's.
+
+"Yes, girls, it is Polly!" she whispered quietly, although with shining
+eyes. "But please, please don't stir or do anything in the world to
+attract her attention. It was Polly's own idea to surprise you like
+this, and yet she is dreadfully afraid that the sight of you may make
+her break down and forget her part. She is simply wonderful!"
+
+Naturally this was a mother's opinion; however, nothing that Mrs.
+Wharton was saying was making the slightest impression, for neither
+Mollie nor Betty had heard a word.
+
+For Moira, the little Irish girl, had begun to speak and everybody on
+the stage was looking toward her, smiling and shrugging their shoulders,
+except the two daughters of the house and their fashionable mother.
+
+Moira had asked for her aunt, Mrs. Mulholland. She was not an emigrant
+maid-of-all-work, as the guests presumed her to be, but a niece of the
+wealthy household. She had crossed the ocean alone and was expecting a
+welcome from her relatives.
+
+At this point in the drama the hero came forward to the little Irish
+maid's assistance. Then her aunt and cousins dared not display the anger
+they felt for this undesired guest. Later it was explained that Moira
+had been sent to New York by her old grandfather, who, fearing that he
+was about to die, wished the girl looked after by her relatives. Moira's
+father had been the son that stayed behind in Ireland. He had been
+desperately poor and the grandfather was supposed to be equally so.
+Then, of course, followed the history of the child's efforts to fit
+herself into the insincere and unkind household.
+
+Nothing remarkable in the story of the little play, surely, but
+everything in the art with which Polly O'Neill acted it!
+
+Tears and smiles, both in writing and acting: these are what the artist
+desires as his true recognition. And Polly seldom spoke half a dozen
+lines without receiving one or the other. Sometimes the smiles and tears
+crowded so close together that the one had not sufficient time to thrust
+the other away.
+
+"I didn't dream the child had it in her: it is genius!" Margaret Adams
+whispered to her companion, when the curtain had finally fallen on the
+second act and she had leaned back in her chair with a sigh of mingled
+pleasure and relief.
+
+"She had my promise to say nothing until tonight. Yes, I have been in
+the secret since last winter." Richard explained. "It was a blessed
+accident Polly's finding just this particular kind of play. She could
+have played no other so well while still so young. You see, she was
+acting in a cheap stock company when a manager happened quite by chance
+to discover her. But she will want to tell you the story herself. I must
+not anticipate."
+
+For a moment, instead of replying, Margaret Adams looked slightly
+amazed. "I did not know that you and Polly were such great friends,
+Richard, that she has preferred confiding in you to any one else," she
+said at length.
+
+Richard Hunt had taken his seat and was now watching the unconcealed
+triumph and delight among the group of Polly's family and friends in the
+box across the theater.
+
+"I wasn't chosen; I was an accident," the man smiled. "Last winter in
+Boston I met Polly--Miss O'Neill," he corrected himself, "and she told me
+what she was trying to do, fight things out for herself without advice
+or assistance from any one of us. But, of course, after I was taken into
+her secret she allowed me to keep in touch with her now and then. The
+child was lonely and dreadfully afraid you and her other friends would
+not understand or forgive what she had tried to do."
+
+"Polly is not exactly a child, Richard; she must be nearly twenty-two,"
+Margaret Adams replied quietly.
+
+In the final act the little Irish heroine had her hour of triumph. The
+hero had fallen in love with her instead of with the fashionable cousin.
+Yet Moira was not the pauper her relatives had believed her, for the old
+grandfather had recently died and his solicitor appeared with his will.
+The Irish township had purchased his acres of supposedly worthless land
+and Moira was proclaimed an heiress.
+
+At the end Polly was her gayest, most inimitable, laughing self. Half a
+dozen times Betty, Mollie and Sylvia found themselves forgetting that
+she was acting at all. How many times had they not known her just as
+wilful and charming, their Polly of a hundred swift, succeeding moods.
+
+Moira was not angry with any one in the world, certainly not with the
+cousins who had been almost cruel to her. During her stay among them she
+had learned of their need of money and was now quick to offer all that
+she had. She was so generous, so happy, and with it all so petulant and
+charming, that at last even the stern aunt and the envious cousins
+succumbed to her.
+
+Then the curtain descended on a very differently clad heroine, but one
+who was essentially unchanged. Moira was dressed in a white satin made
+in the latest and most exquisite fashion; and her black hair was
+beautifully arranged on her small, graceful head. Only the people who
+loved her could have dreamed that Polly O'Neill would ever look so
+pretty. And in one hand the girl was holding a single red rose, though
+under the other arm she was still clutching her beloved Maltese cat.
+
+"Polly will not answer any curtain calls tonight," Mrs. Wharton
+whispered hurriedly when the last scene was over. "If the others will
+excuse us she has asked that only Sylvia, Betty and Mollie come to her
+room. Margaret Adams will be there, but no one else. She is very tired
+at the close of her performances, but she is afraid you girls may not
+forgive her long silence and her deception. Will you come this way with
+me?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII--A Reunion
+
+
+Next morning at half past ten o'clock Polly O'Neill was sitting upright
+in bed in the room at her hotel with Betty on one side, Mollie on the
+other and Sylvia at the foot, gazing rather searchingly upon the object
+of their present devotion.
+
+Polly was wearing a pale pink dressing jacket trimmed with a great deal
+of lace and evidently quite new. Indeed it had been purchased with the
+idea of celebrating this great occasion. The girl's cheeks were as
+crimson as they had been on the stage the night before and her eyes were
+as shining. She was talking with great rapidity and excitement.
+
+"Yes, it is perfectly thrilling and delightful, Mollie Mavourneen, and I
+never was so happy in my life, now that you know all about me and are
+not really angry," Polly exclaimed gayly. "But I can tell you it wasn't
+all honey and roses last winter, working all alone and being lonely and
+homesick and miserable most of the time. No one praised me or sent me
+flowers then," and the girl looked with perfectly natural vanity and
+satisfaction at the big box of roses that had just been opened and was
+still lying on her lap. On her bureau there were vases of fresh flowers
+and several other boxes on a nearby table.
+
+"Well, it must be worth any amount of hard work and unhappiness to be so
+popular and famous," Mollie murmured, glancing with heartfelt admiration
+and yet with a little wistfulness at her twin sister. "Just think, Polly
+dear, we are exactly the same age and used to do almost the same things;
+and now you are a celebrated actress and I'm just nobody at all. I am
+sorry I used to be so opposed to your going on the stage. I think it
+perfectly splendid now."
+
+With a laugh that had a slight quaver in it Polly threw an arm about her
+sister and hugged her close. "You silly darling, how you have always
+flattered me and how dearly I do love it!" she returned, looking with
+equal admiration at the soft roundness of Mollie's girlish figure and
+the pretty dimples in her delicately pink cheeks. "I am not a celebrated
+actress in the least, sister of mine, just because I have succeeded in
+doing one little character part so that a few people, just a few people,
+like it. I do wonder what Margaret Adams thought of me. She did not say
+much last night. She is coming to see me presently, so I am desperately
+nervous over what she will say. One swallow does not make a career any
+more than it makes a summer. And as for daring to say you are nobody,
+Mollie O'Neill, I never heard such arrant nonsense in my life. For you
+know perfectly well that you are a thousand times prettier, more
+charming and more popular than I am, and everybody knows it except you.
+But, of course, you never have believed it in your life, you blessed
+little goose!" and Polly pinched her sister's soft arm appreciatively.
+"I wish there was as much of me as there is of you for one thing, Mollie
+darling, your figure is a perfect dream and I'm nothing in the world but
+skin and bones," Polly finished at last, drawing her dressing jacket
+more closely about her with a barely concealed shiver.
+
+From the foot of the bed Sylvia was eyeing her severely. "Yes, we had
+already noticed that without your mentioning it, Polly," she remarked
+dryly.
+
+Her only answer was a careless shrugging of her thin shoulders, as Polly
+turned this time toward Betty.
+
+"What makes you so silent, Princess? You are not vexed with me and only
+said you were not angry last night to spare my feelings?" Polly asked
+more seriously than she had yet spoken. Even though Polly might believe
+that she loved her sister better, yet she realized that they could never
+so completely understand each other and never have perhaps quite the
+same degree of spiritual intimacy as she had with her friend.
+
+Betty took Polly's outstretched hand and held it lightly.
+
+"I was only thinking of something; I beg your pardon, dear," Betty
+replied quietly.
+
+Polly frowned. "You are not to think of anything or anybody except me
+today," she demanded jealously. "You have had months and months to think
+about other people. This is the best of what I have been working
+for--just to have you girls with me like this, and have you praise me and
+make love to me as Mollie did. Yes, I understand I am being desperately
+vain and self-centered, Princess; so you may think it your duty to take
+me to task for it. But it is only because I have always been such a
+dreadful black sheep among all the other Camp Fire girls. Then I suppose
+it is also because we have been separated so long. Pretty soon I'll have
+to go back to the work-a-day, critical old world where nobody really
+cares a thing about me and where 'my career,' as Mollie calls it, has
+scarcely begun. But please don't make me do all the talking, Betty, it
+is so unlike me and I can see that Sylvia thinks I am saying far too
+much." Here Polly's apparently endless stream of conversation was
+interrupted by a fit of coughing, which took all the color from her
+cheeks, brought there by the morning's excitement, and left her huddled
+up among her pillows pale and breathless, with Sylvia's light blue eyes
+staring at her with a somewhat enigmatic expression.
+
+Betty smiled, however, pulling at one of the long braids of black hair
+with some severity. Last night it had seemed to her that Polly O'Neill
+was quite the most wonderful person in the world and that she could
+never feel exactly the same toward her, but must surely treat her with
+entirely new reverence and respect. Yet here she was, just as absurd and
+childish as ever and pleading for compliments as a child for sweets. No
+one could treat Polly O'Neill with great respect, though love her one
+must to the end of the chapter. She had a thousand faults, yet Betty
+knew that vanity was not one of them. It was simply because of her
+affection for her friends that she wished to find them pleased with her.
+In her heart of hearts no one was humbler than Polly. Betty at least
+understood that her ambition would never leave her satisfied with one
+success.
+
+"But I was thinking of you, my ridiculous Polly!" Betty answered
+finally. "I regret to state, however, that I was not for the moment
+dwelling on your great and glorious career. Naturally no other Sunrise
+Hill Camp Fire girl may ever hope to aspire so high. I was wondering
+whether your mother allowed you to wander around by yourself last
+winter, and, if she did, how you ever managed to take proper care of
+yourself."
+
+"Dear me, hasn't mother told you? Why of course I had a chaperon, child!
+Mollie, please ring the bell for me. She is a dear and is dreadfully
+anxious to meet all of you," Polly explained. "But Sylvia took care of
+me too--would you mind not staring at me quite so hard all the time,
+Sylvia? I know I am better looking behind the footlights," Polly now
+urged almost plaintively, for her younger sister was making her
+decidedly nervous by her continued scrutiny. "Betty, even you will
+hardly place me at the head of the theatrical profession at present,"
+she continued. "Though I am quite green with jealousy, I must tell you
+that Sylvia Wharton has stood at the head of her class in medicine, male
+and female, during this entire year and is confidently expected to come
+out first in her final examinations. I am abominably afraid that Sylvia
+may develop into a more distinguished Camp Fire girl in the end than I
+ever shall."
+
+There was no further opportunity at present for further personal
+discussion, for at this instant a tall, dark-haired woman with somewhat
+timid manners entered the room, where she stood hesitating, glancing
+from one girl's face to the other.
+
+"You know Sylvia, Mrs. Martins, so this is Mollie, whom you may
+recognize as being a good-looking likeness of me," Polly began. "Of
+course this third person is necessarily Betty Ashton."
+
+From her place on the bed Sylvia had smiled her greeting, but Mollie and
+Betty of course got up at once and walked forward to shake hands with
+the newcomer.
+
+Then unexpectedly and to Betty's immense surprise, she found both of her
+hands immediately clasped in an ardent embrace by the stranger, while
+the woman gazed at her with her lips trembling and the tears streaming
+unchecked down her face.
+
+"How shall I ever thank you or make you understand?" she said
+passionately. "All my life long I can never repay what you have done for
+me, but at least I shall never forget it."
+
+Betty pressed the newcomer's hand politely, turning from her to Polly,
+hoping that she might in her friend's expression find some clue to this
+puzzling utterance. Polly appeared just as rapt and mysterious.
+
+"You are awfully kind and I am most happy to meet you," Betty felt
+called on to reply, "but I am afraid you must have mistaken me for some
+one else. It is I who owe gratitude to you for having taken such good
+care of Polly."
+
+The Princess was gracious and sweet in her manner, but she could hardly
+be expected not to have drawn back slightly from such an extraordinary
+greeting from a stranger.
+
+"Oh, my dear, I ought to have explained to you. You must forgive me, it
+is because I feel so deeply and that the people of my race cannot always
+control their emotions so readily," the older woman protested. "It is my
+little girl, for whom you have done such wonderful things. She has
+written me that she is almost happy now that you have become her fairy
+princess. And in truth you are quite lovely enough," the stranger
+continued, believing that at last she was making herself clear.
+
+"I? Your little girl?" Betty repeated stupidly. "You don't mean you are
+Angelique's mother? But of course you are. Now I can see that you look
+like each other and your name is 'Martins.' It is curious, but I paid no
+attention to your name at first and never associated you with my little
+French girl." Now it was Betty's turn to find her voice shaking, partly
+from pleasure and also from embarrassment. "It was a beautiful accident,
+wasn't it, for Angelique and I, and you and Polly to find each other?
+But you have nothing to thank me for, Mrs. Martins. Angel has given me
+more pleasure than I can ever give her. She has been so wonderful since
+she found something in life to interest her. Won't you come to the cabin
+with me right away and see her? Mollie and Mrs. Wharton can surely look
+after Polly for a few days; besides she never does what any one tells
+her."
+
+Suddenly Betty let go her companion's hand, swinging around toward the
+elfish figure in the bed. For Polly did look elfish at this moment, with
+her knees huddled up almost to her chin and her head resting on her
+hand. Her eyes were almost all one could see of her face at present,
+they looked so absurdly large and so darkly blue.
+
+Betty seized the girl by both shoulders, giving her a tiny shake.
+
+"Polly O'Neill, did you write me those anonymous letters about Angel
+last winter? Oh, of course you did! But what a queer muddle it all is! I
+don't understand, for Angel told me that she had never heard of Polly
+O'Neill in her entire life until I spoke of you."
+
+"And no more she has, Princess," returned Polly smiling. "Everybody sit
+down and be good, please, while I explain things as far as I understand
+them. You see Mrs. Martins and I met each other at the theater one
+evening where she had come to do some wonderful sewing for some one.
+Well, of course my clothes were in rags, for with all our Camp Fire
+training I never learned much about the gentle art of stitching. So Mrs.
+Martins promised to do some work for me and by and by we got to knowing
+each other pretty well. One day I found her crying, and then she told me
+about her little girl. A friend had offered to send Angelique to this
+hospital in Boston and Mrs. Martins felt she must let her go, as she
+could not make enough money to keep them comfortable. Besides Angelique
+needed special care and treatment. Of course she realized it was best
+for her little girl, yet they were horribly grieved over being
+separated.
+
+"Just at this time, Miss Brown, whom mother had persuaded to travel with
+me all winter, got terribly tired of her job. So I asked Mrs. Martins if
+she cared to come with me. When she and mother learned to know and like
+each other things were arranged.
+
+"Afterwards the heavenly powers must have sent you to that hospital,
+Betty dear, otherwise there is no accounting for it. Pretty soon after
+your first visit Angel wrote her mother describing a lovely lady with
+auburn hair, gray eyes and the most charming manner in the world, who
+had been to the hospital to see them, but had only said a few words to
+her. Yes, I know you think that is queer, Betty, but please remember
+that though Angelique knew her mother was traveling with an eccentric
+young female, she did not know my real name. I was Peggy Moore to her
+always, just as I was to you until last night. Can't you understand? Of
+course I knew you were in Boston with Esther and Dick, and besides there
+could be only one Betty Ashton in the world answering to your
+description. Then, of course, Mrs. Martins and I both wanted to write
+and explain things to you dreadfully, yet at the same time I did not
+wish you to guess where I was or what I was doing. So I persuaded Mrs.
+Martins to wait; at the same time I did write you these silly anonymous
+letters, for I was so anxious for you to be particularly interested in
+Angel. I might have known you would have been anyway, you dearest of
+princesses and best," whispered Polly so earnestly that Betty drew away
+from her friend's embrace, her cheeks scarlet.
+
+"I am going to another room with Mrs. Martins to have a long talk,
+Polly, while you rest," Betty answered the next moment. "Mrs. Wharton
+said that we were not to stay with you but an hour and a half and it has
+been two already. You will want to be at your best when Margaret Adams
+comes to see you this afternoon."
+
+"If you mean in the best of health, Betty," Sylvia remarked at this
+instant, as she got down somewhat awkwardly from her seat on the bed,
+"then I might as well tell you that Polly O'Neill is far from being even
+ordinarily well. She has not been well all winter; but now, with the
+excitement and strain of her first success, she is utterly used up. All
+I can say is that if she does not quit this acting business and go
+somewhere and have a real rest, well, we shall all be sorry some day,"
+and with this unexpected announcement Sylvia stalked calmly out of the
+room, leaving three rather frightened women and one exceedingly angry
+one behind her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII--Home Again
+
+
+"But, my beloved mother, you really can't expect such a sacrifice of me.
+There isn't anything else in the world you could ask that I would not
+agree to, but even you must see that this is out of the question."
+
+It was several days later and Polly was in her small sitting room with
+her mother and Sylvia.
+
+"Besides it is absurd and wicked of Sylvia to have frightened you so and
+I shan't forgive her, even if she has been good as gold to me all her
+life. How can I give up my part and go away from New York just when I am
+beginning to be a tiny bit successful?" Then, overcome with sympathy for
+herself, Polly cast herself down in a heap upon a small sofa and with
+her face buried in the sofa cushions burst into tears.
+
+Mrs. Wharton walked nervously up and down the room.
+
+"I know it is dreadfully hard for you, dear, and I do realize how much I
+am asking, even if you don't think so, Polly," she replied. "Besides you
+must not be angry with Sylvia. Of course I have not taken the child's
+opinion alone, clever as she is. Two physicians have seen you in the
+last few days, as you know, and they have both given me the same
+opinion. You are on the verge of a nervous breakdown. If you will give
+up now it may not be serious, but if you will insist upon going on with
+your work no one will answer for the consequences. It is only a matter
+of a few weeks, my dear. I have seen your manager and he is willing to
+agree to your stopping as long as it is absolutely necessary. Perhaps
+you may be well enough to start in again in the fall. Isn't it wiser to
+stop now for a short rest than to have to give up altogether later on?"
+she urged consolingly.
+
+As there was no answer from Polly, Mrs. Wharton's own eyes also filled
+with tears. At the same moment Sylvia came up to her step-mother and
+patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. It was odd, but Sylvia rarely
+expressed affection by kissing or the embraces common among most girls.
+Yet in her somewhat shy caresses there was fully as deep feeling.
+
+"Don't worry, mother, things will turn out all right," she now said
+reassuringly. "Of course it is pretty hard on Polly. Even I appreciate
+that. But it is silly of her to protest against the inevitable. She will
+save herself a lot of strength if she only finds that out some day. But
+I'll leave you together, since my being here only makes her more
+obstinate than ever."
+
+As Sylvia was crossing the floor a sofa cushion was thrown violently at
+her from the apparently grief-stricken figure on the sofa. But while
+Mrs. Wharton looked both grieved and shocked Sylvia only laughed. Was
+there ever such another girl as her step-sister? Here she was at one
+instant weeping bitterly at the wrecking of her career, as she thought,
+and the next shying sofa cushions like a naughty child.
+
+Once Sylvia was safely out of the way, Polly again sat upright on the
+sofa, drawing her mother down beside her. It was just as well that
+Sylvia had departed, for she was the one person in the world whom Polly
+had never been able to influence, or turn from her own point of view, by
+any amount of argument or persuasion. With her mother alone her task
+would be easier. Nevertheless Mrs. Wharton appeared singularly
+determined and Polly remembered that there had been occasions when her
+mother's decision must be obeyed.
+
+However, she was no longer a child, and although it would make her
+extremely miserable to appear both obstinate and unloving, it might in
+this single instance be absolutely necessary. How much had she not
+already endured to gain this slight footing in her profession? Now to
+turn her back on it in the midst of her first success, because a few
+persons had made up their minds that she was ill,--well, any sensible or
+reasonable human being must understand that it was quite out of the
+question.
+
+So the discussion continued between the woman and girl, the same
+arguments being repeated over and over, the same pleading, and yet
+without arriving at any sort of conclusion. There is no knowing how long
+this might have kept up if there had not come a sudden knocking at the
+door.
+
+Opening it the boy outside handed Mrs. Wharton a card.
+
+"It is Mr. Hunt who has come to see you, Polly; shall I say you are not
+well? Or what shall I say? Of course it is out of the question for you
+to see any stranger, child. You have been crying until your face is
+swollen and your hair is in dreadful confusion," Mrs. Wharton protested
+anxiously.
+
+Polly unexpectedly scrambled to her feet. "Ask Mr. Hunt to wait a few
+minutes, please, mother, and then we will telephone down and tell him to
+come up. You see I had an engagement with him this afternoon and don't
+like to refuse to see him. For once it is a good thing I have no
+pretensions to beauty like Betty and Mollie. Moreover, mother, I am
+obliged to confess to you that Mr. Hunt has seen me before, not only
+after I had been weeping, but while I was engaged in the act. You know
+he was about the only friend I saw all last winter, when I was so blue
+and discouraged with life. Besides, I am sure he will understand my
+point of view in this dreadful discussion we have just been having and
+will help me to convince you."
+
+Five minutes afterwards the celebrated Miss Polly O'Neill had restored
+her hair and costume to some semblance of order, although her eyes were
+still somewhat red and heavy, as well as her nose. Nevertheless she
+greeted her visitor without particular embarrassment. Mrs. Wharton,
+however, could not pull herself together so readily; so after a few
+moments of conventional conversation she asked to be excused and went
+away, leaving her daughter and guest alone.
+
+Fifteen minutes passed, half an hour, finally an entire hour. All this
+while Mrs. Wharton, remaining in her daughter's bedroom which adjoined
+the sitting room, could hear the sound of two voices.
+
+Of course Polly did the greater share of the talking, but now and then
+Richard Hunt would speak for several moments at a time and afterwards
+there would be odd intervals of silence.
+
+Mrs. Wharton could not hear what was being said, and she scarcely wished
+to return to the sitting room. She was still far too worried and
+nervous, although, having an engagement that must be kept, she wished to
+say good-by to Polly before leaving the hotel.
+
+Richard Hunt rose immediately upon Mrs. Wharton's entrance.
+
+"I am ever so sorry to have made such a long visit," he apologized at
+once, "and I hope I have not interfered with you. Only Miss O'Neill and
+I have been having a pretty serious and important talk and I did not
+realize how much time had passed."
+
+Polly's eyes had been fastened upon something in the far distance. Now
+she glanced toward her guest.
+
+"Oh, you need not apologize to mother for the length of your stay. When
+she hears what we have been discussing she will be more than grateful to
+you," Polly interrupted.
+
+"You see, mother, Mr. Hunt does not agree with me, as I thought he
+would. Who ever has agreed with me in this tiresome world? He also
+thinks that I must stop acting at once and go away with you, if my
+family and the doctors think it necessary. And he has frightened me
+terribly with stories of people who have nervous breakdowns and never
+recover. People who never remember the lines in their plays again or
+what part they are expected to act. So I surrender, dear. I'll go away
+with you as soon as things can be arranged wherever you wish to take
+me." And Polly held up both her hands with an intended expression of
+saintliness, which was not altogether successful.
+
+"Bravo!" Richard Hunt exclaimed quietly.
+
+Mrs. Wharton extended her hand.
+
+"I am more grateful to you than I can express. You have saved us all
+from a great deal of unhappiness and I believe you have saved Polly from
+more than she understands," she added.
+
+The girl took her mother's hand, touching it lightly with her lips.
+"Please don't tell Mr. Hunt what my family think of my obstinacy," she
+pleaded. "Because if you do, he will either have no respect for me or
+else will have too much for himself because I gave in to him," she said
+saucily.
+
+Yet it was probably ten minutes after Mr. Hunt's departure before it
+occurred to Mrs. Wharton to be surprised over Polly's unexpected
+surrender to a comparative stranger, when she had refused to be
+influenced by any member of her own family.
+
+But now the question of chief importance was where should Polly go for
+her much needed rest? It was her own decision finally that rather than
+any other place in the world she preferred to return to Woodford to
+spend the summer months in the old cabin near Sunrise Hill.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX--Illusions Swept Away
+
+
+It was a golden July afternoon two months later when all nature was a
+splendid riot of color and perfume. In a hammock under a group of pine
+trees a girl lay half asleep. Now and then she would open her eyes to
+glance at the lazy white clouds overhead. Then she would look with
+perhaps closer attention at the figure of another girl who was seated a
+few yards away.
+
+If the girl in the hammock was dreaming, her companion fitted oddly into
+her dream. She was dressed in a simple white muslin frock and her hair
+had a band of soft blue ribbon tied about it. In her lap lay an open
+book, but no page had been turned in the last fifteen minutes and indeed
+she was quieter than her friend who was supposed to be asleep.
+
+"Betty," a voice called softly, "bring your chair nearer to me. I have
+done my duty nobly for the past two hours and have not spoken a single,
+solitary word. So even the sternest of doctors and nurses can't say I am
+unfaithful to my rest cure. Besides it is absurd, now when I am as well
+as any one else. Yes, that is much better, Betty, and you are, please,
+to gaze directly into my face while I am talking to you. I haven't liked
+your fashion lately of staring off into space, as you were doing just
+recently and indeed on all occasions when you believe no one is paying
+any special attention to you."
+
+With a low curtsey Betty did as she was commanded. She even knelt down
+on the ground beside the hammock to look the more directly into the eyes
+of her friend. But as she continued, unexpectedly a slow color crept
+into her cheeks from her throat upwards until it had flushed her entire
+face.
+
+"I declare, Polly," she exclaimed jumping to her feet abruptly and
+sitting down in her chair again, "you make me feel as though I had
+committed some offence, though I do assure you I have been as good as
+gold, so far as I know, for a long, long time."
+
+Polly was silent a moment. "You know perfectly well, Betty, that I don't
+think you have done anything wrong. You need not use that excuse to try
+and deceive me, dear, because it does not make the slightest impression.
+The truth is, Betty, that you have a secret that you are keeping from me
+and from every one else so far as I know. Of course there isn't any
+reason why you should confide in me if you don't wish. You may be
+punishing me for my lack of confidence in you last winter."
+
+This last statement was possibly made with a double intention. Betty
+responded to it instantly.
+
+"Surely, Polly, you must know that would not make the slightest
+difference," she returned earnestly. And then the next instant, as if
+fearing that she might have betrayed herself: "But what in the world
+makes you think I am cherishing a secret, you absurd Polly? I suppose
+you have had to have something to think about these past two months,
+when you have spent so much time lying down. Well, when I see how you
+have improved I am quite willing to have been your victim."
+
+With a quick motion the other girl now managed to sit upright, piling
+her sofa cushions behind her. Her color was certainly sufficiently vivid
+at this instant. But indeed she was so improved in every way that one
+would hardly have known her for the Polly O'Neill of the past year's
+trials and successes. Her figure was almost rounded, her chin far less
+pointed and all the lines of fatigue and nervous strain had vanished
+from her face. But Polly's temper had not so materially changed!
+
+"It isn't worth while to accuse me of having tried to spy into your
+private affairs, Princess," she replied haughtily. "But if you do feel
+that I have, then I ask your pardon for now and all times. I shall never
+be so offensive again."
+
+There followed a vast and complete human silence. Then Polly got up from
+her resting place and went and put her arm quietly about her friend.
+
+"Princess, I would rather that the stars should fall or the world come
+to an end, than have you really angry with me," she murmured. "But you
+know I did not mean to offend you by asking you to confide in me, don't
+you? Anyway I promise never, never to ask you again. Here, let me have
+the Woodford paper, please. I believe Billy brought us the afternoon
+edition. I wonder if he and Mollie will be gone on their boating
+expedition for long? They must have been around the lake half a dozen
+times already."
+
+As though dismissing the subject of their past conversation entirely
+from her mind, Polly, resuming her hammock, now buried herself in the
+columns of the Woodford Gazette. Apparently she had not observed that no
+reply had been made either to her accusation or apology. She could see
+that Betty was not seriously angry, which was the main thing.
+
+"Get out your embroidery, Princess, and let me read the news aloud to
+you;" she demanded next. "I love to watch you sew. It is not because you
+do it so particularly well, but because you always manage to look like a
+picture in a book. Funny thing, dear, why you have such a different
+appearance from the rest of us. Oh, I am not saying that probably other
+girls are not as pretty as you are, Mollie and Meg for instance. But you
+have a different look somehow. No wonder Angel thinks you are a fairy
+princess."
+
+But at this moment an unexpected choking sound, that seemed in some
+fashion to have come forth from Betty, interrupted the flow of her
+friend's compliments.
+
+"Please don't, Polly," she pleaded. "You know I love your Irish blarney
+most of the time beyond anything in this world. But now I want to tell
+you something. I have had a kind of a secret for over a year, but it is
+past now and I'm dreadfully sorry if you believe you find a change in me
+that you don't like. I suppose sometimes I do feel rather blue simply
+because I am of so little account in the world. Please don't think I am
+jealous, but you and Sylvia and Nan and Meg are all doing things and
+Esther and Edith and Eleanor are married and Mollie helps her mother
+with your big house. I believe Beatrice and Judith are both at college,
+though we have been separated from them for such a long time. So you see
+I am the only good-for-nothing in the old Sunrise Hill Camp Fire
+circle."
+
+"Yes, I see," was the somewhat curt reply from behind the outspread
+paper.
+
+"Mrs. Martins told me yesterday that the surgeons Dr. Barton brought to
+see Angelique think she may be able to walk in another year or so and I
+believe Cricket is to give up her crutches altogether in a few months,"
+Polly presently remarked.
+
+In the sunshine Betty Ashton's face shone with happiness. "Yes, isn't it
+wonderful?" she remarked innocently.
+
+"Of course, doing beautiful things for other people isn't being of the
+slightest use in the world," the other girl continued, as though talking
+to herself. "Yet Mrs. Martins also said yesterday, that she and
+Angelique believed they had strayed into Paradise they were so happy
+here at the cabin with the prospect of Angel's growing better ahead of
+them. And I believe Cricket dances and sings with every step she takes
+nowadays."
+
+"But I?" interrupted Betty.
+
+"No, of course you have had nothing in the world to do with it and I
+never accused you for a single instant," her friend argued, and then
+Polly fell to reading the paper aloud.
+
+"'The friends of Doctor and Mrs. Richard Ashton, now of Boston,
+Massachusetts, but formerly of Woodford, New Hampshire, will be
+delighted to hear of the birth of their son, Richard Jr., on July the
+fourteenth.' How does it feel to be an aunt?" the reader demanded.
+
+"Delicious," Betty sighed, and then began dreaming of her new nephew,
+wondering when she was to be allowed to see him, until Polly again
+interfered with her train of thought.
+
+"'Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wharton entertained at dinner last night in their
+new home in honor of Mr. Anthony Graham, our brilliant young congressman
+who has returned to Woodford for a few days.' Well, I like that!" Polly
+protested. "Think of Frank and Eleanor daring to give a dinner party and
+asking none of their other old friends or relatives. They must feel set
+up at being married before the rest of us."
+
+For the first time Betty now actually took a few industrious stitches in
+her embroidery. "Oh, they probably did not have but two or three guests.
+You know how papers exaggerate things, Pollykins, I would not be so
+easily offended with my relations," she protested.
+
+"No, but you used to be such an intimate friend of Anthony Graham's. Do
+you know I look upon him as one of your good works, Betty? I wonder if
+he will condescend to come to the cabin to see us, now he is such a busy
+and distinguished person. Is he as much a friend of yours now as he used
+to be?"
+
+Unexpectedly Betty's thread broke, so that she was forced to make
+another knot before replying.
+
+"Friend of mine? No, yes; well, that is we are friendly, of course, only
+Anthony has grown so fond of Meg Everett lately that he has not much
+time for any one else. But please don't speak of anything I ever did for
+him, Polly. I beg it of you as a special favor. In the first place it
+was so ridiculously little and in the second I think it pretty hard on
+Anthony to have an unfortunate accident like that raked up against him
+now that he has accomplished so much."
+
+"Oh, all right," Polly returned, thoughtfully digging into the earth
+with the toe of her pretty kid slipper.
+
+"Good heavens, speaking of angels or the other thing!" she exclaimed, a
+moment later, "I do declare if that does not look like Anthony Graham
+coming directly toward us this instant. Do go and speak to him first,
+dear, while I manage to scramble out of this hammock."
+
+Ten minutes later Anthony was occupying the chair lately vacated by
+Betty, while Polly was once more in a reclining position. Knowing that
+she was still regarded as a semi-invalid, Anthony had insisted that she
+must not disturb herself on his account. He had explained that the
+reason for his call was to find out how she was feeling. So, soon after
+this statement, Betty had left the two of them together, giving as an
+excuse the fact that as she had invited Anthony to stay with them to tea
+she must go to the cabin to help get things ready.
+
+After Betty's disappearance Polly did not find her companion
+particularly interesting. He scarcely said half a dozen words but sat
+staring moodily up toward the dark branches of the enshadowing pine
+trees. This at least afforded Polly a fine opportunity for studying the
+young man's face.
+
+"You have improved a lot, Anthony," she said finally. "Oh, I beg your
+pardon, I am afraid I was thinking out loud."
+
+Her visitor smiled. "Well, so long as your thoughts are complimentary I
+am sure I don't mind," he returned. "Keep it up, will you?"
+
+The girl nodded. "There is nothing I should like better. You know it is
+odd, but the Princess and I were talking about you just when you
+appeared. I must say I am amazed at your prominence, Anthony. I never
+dreamed you would ever amount to so much. It was funny, but Betty used
+always to have faith in you. I often wondered why."
+
+This time her companion did not smile. "I wish to heaven then that she
+had faith in me now, or if not faith at least a little of her old
+liking," he answered almost bitterly. "For the last year, for some
+reason or other, Miss Betty has seemed to dislike me. She has avoided me
+at every possible opportunity. And I have never been able to find out
+whether I had offended her or if she had merely grown weary of my
+friendship. I have been so troubled by it that I have made a confidant
+of Miss Everett and asked her to help me if she could. I thought perhaps
+if Betty--Miss Betty, I mean--could see that Meg Everett liked me and was
+willing to be my intimate friend, that possibly she might forgive me in
+time. But it has all been of no use, she has simply grown colder and
+colder. And I fear I only weary Miss Everett in talking of Miss Betty so
+much of the time. She recently told me that I did."
+
+Polly's lips trembled and her shoulders shook. What a perfectly absurd
+creature a male person was at all times and particularly when under the
+influence of love!
+
+The next moment the girl's face had strangely sobered.
+
+"You are not worthy to tie her shoe-string, you know, Anthony; but then
+I never have seen any one whom I have thought worthy of her. Most
+certainly neither Esther nor I approved of the nobility as represented
+by young Count Von Reuter."
+
+Aloud Polly continued this interesting debate with herself, apparently
+not concerned with whether or not her companion understood her.
+
+"Certainly I am unworthy to tie any one's shoe-string," the young man
+murmured finally, "but would you mind confiding in me just whose
+shoe-string you mean?"
+
+From under her dark lashes half resentfully and half sympathetically the
+girl surveyed the speaker. "You have a sense of humor, Anthony, and that
+is something to your credit," she remarked judicially. "Well, much as I
+really hate to say it, I might as well tell you that I don't think the
+Princess dislikes you intensely, provided you tell her just why you have
+been so intimate with Meg for these past months. No, I have nothing more
+to say. Only I am going down to the lake for half an hour to join Mollie
+and Billy Webster and if you wait here you may have a chance of speaking
+to Betty alone when she comes to invite us in to tea."
+
+Then quietly Polly O'Neill strolled away with every appearance of
+calmness, although she was really feeling greatly perturbed and
+distressed. Certainly something must have worked a reformation in her
+character, for although she positively hated the idea of Betty Ashton's
+marrying, had she not just thrust her deliberately into the arms of her
+fate. Yet, of course, her feeling was a purely selfish one, since she
+had no real fault to find with Anthony. So if Betty loved him, he must
+have his chance.
+
+Then with a smile and a sigh Polly once more shrugged her shoulders,
+which is the Irish method of acknowledging that fate is too strong for
+the strongest of us. She reached the edge of the lake and madly signaled
+to Mollie and Billy to allow her to enter their boat. They were at no
+great distance off and yet were extremely slow in approaching the shore.
+Evidently they seemed to feel no enthusiasm for the newcomer's society
+at the present moment.
+
+"I thought you were asleep, Polly," Mollie finally murmured in a
+reproachful tone, while Billy Webster eyed his small canoe rather
+doubtfully.
+
+"She won't carry a very heavy load, Miss Polly," he remarked, drawing
+alongside. Polly calmly climbed into the skiff, taking her seat in the
+stern.
+
+"I can't sleep all the time, sister of mine," she protested, once she
+was comfortably established, "much as I should like to accommodate my
+family and friends by the relief from my society. And as for my being
+too heavy for your canoe, Billy Webster, I don't weigh nearly so much as
+Mollie. So if you think both of us too heavy, she might as well get out
+and give me a chance. You have been around this lake with her at least a
+dozen times already this afternoon. Besides, I really have to be allowed
+to remain somewhere."
+
+Plainly Mollie's withdrawal from the scene had no place in Billy's
+calculations, for without further argument he moved out toward the
+middle of the pond.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX--Two Engagements
+
+
+Ten minutes more must have passed before Betty decided to return to her
+friends. Yet during her short walk to the pine grove she was still oddly
+shy and nervous and in a mood wholly dissatisfied with herself. Why in
+the world did she so often behave coldly to Anthony Graham and with such
+an appearance of complete unfriendliness? There was nothing further from
+her own desire, for certainly he had an entire right to have transferred
+his affection to Meg! To show either anger or pique was small and
+unwomanly!
+
+Never had there been definite understanding between Anthony and herself.
+Indeed she had always refused even to listen to any serious expression
+of his affection for her. Long ago there had been a single evening after
+her return from Germany, when together they had watched the moon go down
+behind Sunrise Hill, an evening which she had not been able to forget.
+Yet she had only herself to blame for the weakness, since if Anthony had
+forgotten, no girl should cherish such a memory alone.
+
+Now here was an opportunity for proving both her courage and pride. With
+the thought of her old title of Princess, Betty's cheeks had flamed. How
+very far she had always been from living up to its real meaning. Yet she
+must hurry on and cease this absurd and selfish fashion of thinking of
+herself. A cloud had come swiftly up out of the east and in a few
+moments there would be a sudden July downpour. Often a brief storm of
+wind and rain closed an unusually warm day in the New Hampshire hills.
+
+Under no circumstances must Polly suffer. Only a week before had Mrs.
+Wharton been persuaded to leave Polly in their charge when she and
+Mollie had both promised to take every possible care of her.
+
+Suddenly Betty began running so that she arrived quite breathless at her
+destination. Her face was flushed, and from under the blue ribbon her
+hair had escaped and was curling in red-brown tendrils over her white
+forehead. Then at the entrance to the group of pines, before she has
+even become aware of Polly's disappearance, Anthony Graham had
+unexpectedly caught hold of both her hands.
+
+"Betty, you must listen to me," he demanded. "No, I can't let you go
+until I have spoken, for if I do you will find some reason for escaping
+me altogether as you have been doing these many months. You must know I
+love you and that I have cared for no one else since the hour of our
+first meeting. Always I have thought of you, always worked to be in some
+small way worthy even of daring to say I love you. Yet something has
+come between us during this past year and it is only fair that you
+should tell me what it is. I do not expect you to love me, Betty, but
+once you were my friend and I could at least tell you my hopes and
+fears. Is it that you are engaged to some one else and take this way of
+letting me know?"
+
+Still Anthony kept close hold of the girl's hands, and now after her
+first effort she made no further attempt to draw herself away. His eyes
+were fixed upon hers with an expression that there was no mistaking, yet
+something in the firm and resolute lines about his mouth revealed the
+will responsible for Anthony Graham's success and power. Quietly he now
+drew his companion closer beneath the shelter of the trees, for the
+first drops of rain were beginning to fall.
+
+"But I am still your friend, Anthony. You are mistaken in thinking that
+anything has come between us. As for my being engaged to some one else
+that is quite untrue. I only thought that you and Meg were so intimate
+that you no longer needed me." For the first time Betty's voice
+faltered.
+
+Anthony was saying in a tone she should never forget even among the
+thousands of incidents in their crowded lives, "I shall always need and
+want you, Betty, to the last instant of created time." Then he brought
+both her hands up to his lips and kissed them. "Meg was only enduring my
+friendship so that I might have some one with whom I could talk about
+you."
+
+Suddenly Anthony let go Betty's hands and stepped back a few paces away
+from her. His face had lost the radiant look of a brief moment before.
+
+"Betty, a little while ago you told me that you were still my friend and
+that no one had come between us, and it made me very happy. But I tell
+you honestly that I do not think I can be happy with such an answer for
+long. Two years ago, when you and I together watched the moon over
+Sunrise Hill, I dared not then say more than I did, I had not enough to
+offer you. But now things are different and it isn't your friendship I
+want! Ten thousand times, no! It is your love! Do you think, Betty, that
+you can ever learn to love me?"
+
+Now Betty's face was white and her gray eyes were like deep wells of
+light.
+
+"Learn to love you, Anthony? Why I am not a school girl any longer and I
+learned that lesson years and years ago."
+
+When the storm finally broke and the thunder crashed between the heavy
+deluges of rain neither Anthony nor Betty cared to make for the nearby
+shelter of Sunrise cabin. Instead they stood close together laughing up
+at the sky and at the lovely rain-swept world. Once Betty did remember
+to inquire for the vanished Polly, but Anthony assured her that Polly
+had joined Mollie and Billy half an hour before and that they would of
+course take the best possible care of her.
+
+Nevertheless at this instant Polly O'Neill was actually floundering
+desperately about in the waters of Sunrise Lake while trying to make her
+way to the side of their overturned skiff. Billy Webster, with his arm
+about Mollie, was swimming with her safely toward shore.
+
+"Don't be frightened, it is all right, dear. I'll look after Polly in a
+moment," he whispered encouragingly.
+
+Returning a few moments later Billy discovered his other companion, a
+very damp and discomfited mermaid, seated somewhat perilously upon the
+bottom of their wrecked craft.
+
+"I never knew such behavior in my life, Billy Webster," she began
+angrily, as soon as she was able to get her wet hair out of her mouth.
+"The idea of your going all the way into shore with Mollie and leaving
+me to drown. You might at least have seen that I got safe hold of your
+old boat first."
+
+"Yes, I know; I am sorry," Billy replied, resting one hand on the side
+of his skiff and so bringing his head up out of the water in order to
+speak more distinctly. "But you see, Polly, I knew you could swim and
+Mollie is so easily frightened and it all came so suddenly, the boat's
+overturning with that heavy gust of wind. To tell you the truth, I
+didn't even remember you were aboard until Mollie began asking for you.
+I wonder if you would mind helping me get this skiff right side up. It
+would be easier for us to paddle in than for me to have to swim with
+you."
+
+Gasping, Polly slid off her perch.
+
+"After that extra avalanche of cold water nothing matters," she remarked
+icily. However, her companion did not even hear her.
+
+Safe on land again, Polly waited under a tree while the young man pulled
+his boat ashore. Her sister had gone ahead to send some one down with
+blankets and umbrellas. In spite of the rain, damp clothes and the shock
+of her recent experience, Polly O'Neill was not conscious of feeling
+particularly cold.
+
+"I hope you are not very uncomfortable, and that our accident won't make
+you ill again," Billy Webster said a few moments later as he joined her.
+"I suppose I do owe you a little more explanation for having ignored you
+so completely. But you see, just about five minutes before you insisted
+on getting into our boat Mollie had promised to be my wife. We did not
+dare talk very much after you came on board, but you can understand that
+I simply wasn't able to think of any one else. You see I have loved
+Mollie ever since that day when we were children and she bound up the
+wound you had made in my head."
+
+Once more Polly gasped slightly, and of course she was beginning to feel
+somewhat chilled.
+
+Billy Webster looked at her severely. "Oh, of course I did think I was
+in love with you, Polly, for a year or so, I remember. But that was
+simply because I had not then learned to understand Mollie's true
+character. I used to believe it would be a fine thing to have a strong
+influence over you and try to show you the way you should go." Here
+Billy laughed, and he was very handsome with his damp hair pushed back
+over his bronzed face and his wet clothes showing the outline of his
+splendid boyish figure, matured and strengthened by his outdoor life.
+
+"But you see, Polly, I believe nobody is ever going to be able to
+influence you to any great extent," he continued teasingly, "and at any
+rate you and I will never have half the chances to quarrel that we would
+have had if we had ever learned to like each other. I forgive you
+everything now for Mollie's sake."
+
+For half a moment Polly hesitated, then, holding out her hand, her blue
+eyes grew gay and tender.
+
+"Thank you, Billy," she said, "for Mollie's sake. If you make her as
+happy as I think you will, why, I'll also forget and forgive you
+everything."
+
+Fortunately by the time Mrs. Martins and Ann had arrived with every
+possible comfort for the invalid. And so Polly was borne to the cabin in
+the midst of their anxious inquiries and put to bed, where neither her
+sister nor Betty were allowed to see her during the evening.
+
+If either of the girls suffered from the deprivation of her society
+there was nothing that gave any indication of unhappiness in either of
+the two faces.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI--At the Turn of the Road
+
+
+                   "By day, upon my golden hill
+                   Between the harbor and the sea,
+                   I feel as if I well could fill
+                   The world with golden melody.
+                   There is no limit to my view,
+                   No limit to my soft content,
+                   Where sky and water's fairy blue
+                   Merge to the eye's bewilderment."
+
+Polly read from the pages of a magazine, and then pausing for a moment
+she again repeated the verse aloud, giving each line all the beauty and
+significance of which it was capable.
+
+She was walking alone along a path beyond the grove of pine trees one
+Sunday morning about ten days later. She wore no hat and her dress was
+of plain white muslin without even a ribbon belt for decoration. She had
+a bunch of blue corn flowers, which she had lately gathered, pinned to
+her waist and was looking particularly young and well.
+
+Yet for the first time since her home coming Polly had recently been
+feeling somewhat lonely and neglected. There was at present absolutely
+no counting on Mollie for anything. Billy had always made demands upon
+her time when they were simply friends, but since their engagement had
+been announced there was never an entire afternoon or even morning when
+Mollie was free. In answer to Polly's protests that she was only to be
+at home during the summer and so would like to see her only sister alone
+now and then, Billy had explained that early August was the only month
+in which he had any real leisure and that he and Mollie must therefore
+make plans for their future at once. Moreover, as it was self-evident
+that her sister preferred her fiance's society to her own, Polly had
+been forced to let the matter drop.
+
+Then a week before, Betty had gone to Boston to see Esther and her new
+nephew, which was discouraging for her friend. For as Anthony had been
+too busy to come to the cabin except in the evenings, Polly had the
+Princess to herself during the day time.
+
+She had promised Betty to stay on at the cabin until her return, as the
+simple, outdoor life seemed to be doing her so much good; nevertheless,
+Polly had determined to go into Woodford in the next few days and
+persuade her mother to take her away unless things at the cabin became
+more interesting. She was now rested and entirely well and more than
+anxious to get back to her work again, since the friends on whom she had
+depended were at present too absorbed to give her much of their time or
+thought.
+
+"Well, Margaret Adams always told me that 'a career' was a lonely kind
+of life," Polly thought to herself. "But oh, what wouldn't I give if
+Margaret should appear at this moment at the turn of that road. She must
+have had my letter on Friday begging her to come and perhaps she had no
+other engagement. It will be delightful, too, if she brings Mr. Hunt
+along with her. I told her to ask him, as Billy can make him comfortable
+at the farm. I should like him to see Sunrise cabin and the beautiful
+country about here."
+
+Polly had finally come to the end of her lane and beyond could see the
+road leading out from the village. She was a little weary, as she had
+not walked any distance in several months until this morning. There was
+a convenient seat under the shade of a great elm tree that commanded a
+view of the country and she had her magazine with her and could hear the
+noise of an approaching motor car or carriage, should Margaret have
+decided to come.
+
+Again Polly fell to memorizing the poem she had been trying to learn
+during her stroll. It was good practice to get back into the habit of
+training her memory, and the poem seemed oddly descriptive of her
+present world.
+
+  "Tonight, upon my somber gaze
+  With gleam of silvered waters lit,
+  I feel as if I well could praise
+  The moon----"
+
+Here Polly was interrupted by the sound of a voice saying:
+
+"My dear Miss Polly, I never dreamed of finding you so well. Why, if you
+only had the famous torn hat and rake you would pass for Maud Muller any
+day!"
+
+With a cry of welcome Polly jumped to her feet.
+
+"Mr. Hunt, I am so glad to see you and so surprised!" she exclaimed.
+"Please explain how you managed, when I have been watching for you and
+Margaret all morning, to arrive without my knowing?"
+
+"But we have not arrived, and I hope you won't be too greatly
+disappointed at my coming alone. You see it is like this. I happened to
+be calling on Miss Adams when your note came and she told me that I had
+been included in your invitation. Well, it was impossible for Miss Adams
+to spend this week end with you as she was going off on a yachting party
+with some of her rich admirers, so I decided to run down and see you
+alone. It was not so remarkable my coming upon you unawares, since I
+walked out from the village. Please do sit down again and tell me you
+are glad to see me."
+
+Polly sat down as she was bid, and Richard Hunt, dropping on the ground
+near her, took off his hat, leaning his head on his hand like a tired
+boy.
+
+"Come, hurry, you haven't said you were glad yet, Miss Polly," he
+protested.
+
+Polly's eyes searched the dark ones turned half-teasingly and
+half-admiringly toward her.
+
+"Do you mean, Mr. Hunt, that you came all the way from New York to
+Woodford just to see me?" she asked wonderingly. "And that you came
+alone, without Margaret or any one else?"
+
+Her companion laughed, pushing back the iron gray hair from his
+forehead, for his long walk had been a warm one.
+
+"I do assure you I haven't a single acquaintance concealed anywhere
+about me," he declared. "But just the same I don't see why you should
+feel so surprised. Don't you know that I would travel a good many miles
+to spend an hour alone with you, instead of a long and blissful day. Of
+course I am almost old enough to be your father----"
+
+"You're not," Polly interrupted rather irritably. Yet in spite of her
+protest she was feeling curiously shy and self-conscious and Polly was
+unaccustomed to either of these two emotions. Then, just in order to
+have something to do, she carelessly drew the bunch of corn flowers from
+her belt and held them close against her hot cheeks.
+
+"Mr. Hunt," she began after a moment of awkward silence, "don't think I
+am rude, but please do not say things to me like--" the girl
+hesitated--"like that last thing; I mean your being willing to travel
+many miles to spend an hour alone with me. You have always been so kind
+that I have thought of you as my real friend, but of course if you begin
+to be insincere and flatter me as you would some one whom you did not
+honestly like, I----"
+
+Polly ceased talking at this instant because Richard Hunt had risen
+quickly to his feet and put forth his hand to assist her.
+
+"Let us go on to your cabin," he replied gravely. "You are right. I
+should not have said a thing like that to you. But you are wrong, Polly,
+in believing I was insincere. You see, I grew to be pretty fond of you
+last winter and very proud, seeing with what courage you fought your
+battles alone." Richard Hunt paused, walking on a few paces in silence.
+"I shall not worry you with the affection of a man so much older than
+you are," he continued as though having at last made up his mind to say
+all that was in his heart and be through. "Only at all times and under
+all circumstances, no matter what happens, you are to remember, Polly,
+that you are and always shall be first with me."
+
+"I--you," the girl faltered. "Why I thought you cared for Margaret. I
+never dreamed--" then somehow Polly, who had always so much to say, could
+not even finish her sentence.
+
+"No, of course you never did," the man replied gravely. "Still, I want
+you to know that Margaret and I have never thought of being anything but
+the best of friends. Now let us talk of something else, only tell me
+first that you are not angry and we will never speak of this again."
+
+"No, I am not displeased," Polly faltered, looking and feeling absurdly
+young and inadequate to the importance of the situation.
+
+Then, walking on and keeping step with her companion, suddenly a new
+world seemed to have spread itself before her eyes. Shyly she stole a
+glance at her tall companion, and then laid her hand coaxingly on his
+coat sleeve.
+
+"Will you please stop a minute. I want to explain something to you," she
+asked. Polly's expression was intensely serious; she had never been more
+in earnest; all the color seemed to have gone from her face so as to
+leave her eyes the more deeply blue.
+
+"You see, Mr. Hunt, I never, never intend marrying any one. I mean to
+devote all my life to my profession and I have never thought of anything
+else since I was a little girl."
+
+Gravely Richard Hunt nodded. Not for an instant did his face betray any
+doubt of Polly's decision in regard to her future. Then Polly laughed
+and her eyes changed from their former seriousness to a look of the
+gayest and most charming camaraderie. "Still, Mr. Hunt, if you really
+did mean what you said just now, why I don't believe I shall mind if we
+do speak of it some day again. Of course I am not in love with you,
+but----"
+
+Richard Hunt slipped the girl's arm inside his. There was something in
+his face that gave Polly a sense of strength and quiet such as she had
+never felt in all her restless, ambitious girlhood.
+
+"Yes, I understand," he answered. "But look there, Polly, isn't that
+Sunrise Hill over there and your beloved little cabin in the distance?
+And aren't we glad to be alive in this wonderful world?"
+
+The girl's voice was like a song. "I never knew what it meant to be
+really alive until this minute," she whispered.
+
+The sixth volume of the Camp Fire Girls Series will be known as "The
+Camp Fire Girls in After Years." In this story the girls will appear as
+wives and mothers. Also it will reveal the fact that romance does not
+end with marriage, and that in many cases a woman's life story is only
+beginning upon her wedding day. There will be new characters, a new plot
+and new love interests as well, but in the main the theme will follow
+the fortunes of the same group of girls who years ago formed a Camp Fire
+club and lived, worked and loved under the shadow of Sunrise Hill.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp Fire Girls' Careers, by
+Margaret Vandercook
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS ***
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