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.