Читать книгу Polly of Lady Gay Cottage - Dowd Emma C. - Страница 3

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

On the morning that Mrs. Jocelyn’s man drove her across the city to the private school which Polly and David attended, she was almost too joyfully excited for comfort. To think that one of her most cherished dreams was actually coming true!

Polly introduced her as, “My friend, Leonora Jocelyn,” which made the little dark face pink with pleasure, and nearly caught away the remnant of her self-possession.

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

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

“What’s your father’s business?” was her abrupt inquiry.

“I haven’t any father,” Leonora answered gently.

“Oh! Where do you live?”

“On Edgewood Avenue.”

“Up opposite Edgewood Park?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that Mrs. Jocelyn hadn’t any children,” scowled Ilga.

“She has just adopted me,” Leonora explained shyly.

“Oh!”

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

Leonora’s face grew distressfully red, and her soft eyes suddenly brimmed.

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

“There’s Lilith Brooks! I want you to know her, she is so sweet! Come, Leonora!” She threw her arm around her friend, and drew her away from the embarrassed group.

“You mustn’t mind Ilga!” she whispered. “Nobody does!”

Yet all that morning the impertinence of Senator Barron’s only daughter occupied more of Polly’s mind than her lessons, and at recess her indignant thoughts sprang into words. She went straight to where Ilga was entertaining two of her chosen intimates with chocolate creams.

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

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

“Huh!” sneered the owner of it, “if you think you are going to order me round, you’re mistaken! I guess I shan’t associate with every tramp that comes along – so there, Polly Dudley!”

“Leonora isn’t any more of a tramp than you are!” Polly burst out hotly.

“No, she isn’t – ‘than you are!’” retorted Ilga, with sarcastic emphasis and a disagreeable laugh.

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

“And you are too contemptible to – talk with!” she cried scornfully, and whirled away.

But Ilga’s instant rejoinder seemed to retard her feet, for she was conscious of walking slowly, missing none of the words that bit into her sensitive heart.

“Oh! I am, am I? Well, you are a regular nobody! You put on airs just because Dr. Dudley adopted you; but he isn’t anybody! He wouldn’t stay at the hospital for that little bit of a salary if he was. He can’t get a place anywhere else – he’s a no – body!”

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

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

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

“Oh, excuse me!” she replied. “I forgot.”

“Forgot!” he began laughingly, but stopped. Her gravity did not invite humor.

He wondered what had gone wrong, but was wise enough to ask no questions. After an ineffectual attempt at talk, they fell back into silence, separating at the cottage entrance with sober good-byes.

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

“Oh, dear! – Miss Curtis!” she sighed, and turned towards the little library.

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

The story was one she had never read, and its interest was proved in that time and troubles were soon forgotten. Thus her mother found her, and thanks to the respite from Ilga’s haunting words she was able to respond to the visitor’s greeting with something of her usual happy humor.

Dr. Dudley had been unexpectedly called out of town, so the three dined together most unconventionally. The ladies talked over old hospital days, and Polly, greatly to her relief, was left much to herself. But although she rarely joined in the converse, her thoughts were not allowed to revert to their unpleasant channel, with the result that when she returned to school things had regained a little of their accustomed brightness, and she was ready to smile a greeting to her friends.

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

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

“Dr. Dudley don’t know much anyway! He’s got a sister that’s an idiot – a real idiot! They have to keep her shut up!”

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

“What in the world’s the matter?” cried Glen Stewart, appearing in the outer doorway, at the head of a string of girls. “Are you sick?”

“No – yes – oh, I don’t know!” she stammered, catching her breath piteously.

They clustered around her, distressed and helpless.

“Are you faint? I’ll get you a drink!” And Lilith Brooks ran to fetch a glass.

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

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

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

Aimlessly she let her eyes wander over the desolate garden of the next house, so recently robbed of all its greenery; then the muslin-draped windows opposite came within her vision. The caroling canary, in his little gilded prison, caught a glance, a frolicking squirrel running an endless race in his make-believe home, a lady stitching on a pink gown, and so towards the street. What she saw there made her start as if with pain.

Up the sidewalk strolled a lad, “Foolish Joe” people called him, and he was, as usual, accompanied by a little band of fun-loving, teasing boys. In a moment they were gone; but the shambling central figure with its vacant face stayed with her to accentuate her distress. She leaned her head upon her arm, but she could not shut out the picture.

Ilga’s sneering phrases rang back and forth in her brain, until clear thought was impossible.

“Lucy! Polly! Are you up there?”

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

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

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

“I – don’t know,” Polly faltered. “She’s gone out – the door was locked – maybe with Miss Curtis. Miss Curtis was here to dinner.”

“Was she!” And then, “I am going down to Linwood, and I thought you folks would like the ride. We shall have to go alone, shan’t we?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, no, we never do!”

“Perhaps you missed a word in spelling?”

She shook her head, with a sober “No.”

“Geography, then?”

“Yes, I made a mistake,” she admitted.

“I wouldn’t worry over that.”

“No, oh, no!”

“Then that isn’t it? How long are you going to keep me guessing?”

She hid her face against his coat. “Don’t ask me, please!” she begged.

“Is it as bad as that?” His tone would usually have sent her off in an amused chuckle; now she was miserably silent, pressing closer into the friendly folds.

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

“Now let’s look at this together, Thistledown. Two heads ought to be wiser than one, you know. Just give me a chance to show my skill at helping.”

“I – can’t! It would make you feel bad – awfully bad!”

“Something you did at school? I promise my forgiveness.”

“Oh, no! I haven’t done anything – only told Ilga Barron what I thought of her. And I’m glad I did!”

“That the pudgy girl we met the other day? – the one that didn’t have cloth enough for a decent dress?”

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

A quiver of laughter stirred the Doctor’s face.

“All right, we’ll let the Senator’s daughter wear her frocks as short as she pleases. But what else has she been doing?”

“She said,” began Polly, “that you – oh, I can’t!” She caught her breath in a sob.

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

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

“She said – that you – that you – were a nobody!”

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

“There’s something else,” she replied plaintively.

“I am ready.”

“She told some girls – she meant I should hear – that – that your sister is – an idiot!” The sentence ended in a wail.

Dr. Dudley’s arms tightened around the slender little figure, and for a moment he did not speak.

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

“I have no sister on earth. She went to Heaven two years ago. I will tell you about it. Until Ruth was six years old she was a bright, beautiful little girl, beloved by everybody. She was eight years younger than I, and my especial pet. Then came the terrible fever, and for days we thought she could not live. Finally she rallied, only for us to discover that we had lost her – her brain was a wreck. The semblance of Ruth stayed with us twelve years longer, until she was eighteen years old; then she went Home. That is undoubtedly the foundation for Ilga’s malicious little story; but, you see, Thistledown, there is no present cause for sorrow, only thankfulness that Ruth’s journey is safely ended. We can remember her now for the dear child she was.”

Polly was crying softly on her father’s shoulder. Presently she asked: —

“May I tell Ilga?”

“I wouldn’t bring up the subject. If it should ever be referred to again, you might let her know the truth, as simply as possible; but sometimes things are better left unexplained.”

Polly was silent, and Dr. Dudley went on.

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

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

“A nobody?” he smiled. “I should be one if I allowed it to annoy me. My little girl, I wish I could make you see how trivial, how inconsequent such things are. No human being is a ‘nobody’ who is faithful to the best that is in him. It doesn’t make much real difference what people say of us, as long as we keep an honest heart and serve God and our fellow travelers according to our highest knowledge. Life is too brief to spend much thought on taunts or slander. We have too much else to do. I suppose it is scarcely possible for a person that does anything worth doing to get through life without sometimes being talked about unpleasantly and misrepresented. Do you know what Shakespeare says about that? ‘Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.’

“But there comes mother! Run, get your hat and coat, and we’ll have our ride.”