"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.