ILGA BARRON
Spring was in Fair Harbor. Tulips and hyacinths flaunted their gay
gowns in the city parks, and daffodils laughed in old-fashioned
gardens. Flocks of blackbirds, by the suburb roadsides, creaked their
joy in the sunshine, and robins caroled love ditties to their mates.
Mrs. Jocelyn's stable, too, told of spring's coming, for there stood
one of the prettiest pairs of ponies that ever trotted before a
carriage.
Already Leonora was becoming an experienced little horsewoman, though
whenever she drove there was always Philip, Mrs. Jocelyn's man, riding
close behind. Polly had had a dozen drives with David and Jonathan,
and Elsie and Brida and the others had not been forgotten.
On a Saturday morning Leonora telephoned early and invited Polly to go
to Crab Cove, some six miles away. The day was perfect, blue
overhead, green along the waysides, and sunshine all around. The girls
were in a merry mood.
"There's Ilga Barron out in her yard," remarked Polly, looking ahead.
"M-h'm," replied Leonora indifferently, glancing that way.
"You haven't taken her to ride yet, have you?" Polly went on.
"No, and I'm not going to," was the decided answer.
"Why, you'll have to ask her sometime, shan't you?" insisted Polly.
"Say, Leonora, drive slow a minute!"
"What do you want?" began the other, a bit of impatience in her tone.
"I just happened to think,"--the words were tumbling out fast,--"I've
had ever so many rides, and Patricia and Lilith and Gladys have, and
Ilga will feel it if she is skipped. Mayn't I run over and ask her to
take my place for this once? I can go any time, you know! Do you
mind?" for Leonora's face showed disapproval.
"Oh, dear! I don't want her!" fretted the little driver. "I wish she
hadn't been out there. I wish we'd gone some other way. Yes, go
ahead, if you want to!" she yielded, seeing Polly's wistful eyes.
"I'll try to be good to her."
The carriage stopped in front of the big granite house, and the
exchange was soon made. Ilga was only too ready for a drive behind the
ponies which were the envy of every girl who saw them.
Polly waved them a gay good-bye, and turned towards home.
"I believe I'll go up to Patricia's," she said to herself. "Mother
won't expect me back for an hour or two, and Patricia wanted me to see
her new dresses. It'll be a good time."
Thus thinking, she took the street that led to The Trowbridge, and was
presently admiring Patricia's pretty frocks. Time passed quickly, and
it was nearly ten o'clock when she finally started for home.
As she rounded the corner below Lady Gay Cottage, she saw her father's
automobile in front, and then the Doctor himself coming down the walk
on a run.
"Oh, maybe I can go with him!" she thought, and sprang ahead.
"Father! father!" she called.
Dr. Dudley turned, and came swiftly towards her. He caught her in his
arms,--"Polly!" his voice breaking as she had never heard it before.
"You aren't hurt at all?" Incredulity was in his tone.
"Hurt? Why, no! How should I be?"
He left her, leaping up the steps, and throwing wide the door. She
heard him call:--
"Lucy! she is here!--safe!"
Polly hurried after, to be clasped tightly in her mother's arms with
excited expressions of thankfulness.
"What is it?" she pleaded. "I don't see what it all means!"
"We heard that the ponies ran away," the Doctor explained, "and that
one of you was hurt--badly. Somebody thought it was not Leonora, and,
of course--"
"Oh, Ilga!" broke in Polly. And she told of how the exchange had been
made.
Dr. Dudley hastened away, to learn the truth of the matter, while
Polly and her mother tried to settle into something like calmness.
By chance callers and over the wire came snatches of facts concerning
the accident. Nobody seemed to know what had startled the ponies, but
Leonora had pluckily held to the reins until a hill was reached,
thereby averting injury to herself. Ilga, becoming frightened, had
jumped from the carriage, with serious results. It had occurred while
Philip had gone into a shop for some purchase, leaving his own horse
and the little team at the curb. When he came out the ponies were
dashing across the railway tracks ahead of a coming train, and he was
obliged to wait behind the gates until the small carriage was out of
sight.
It was not until the Doctor returned that the nature of Ilga's
injuries were known.
"Dr. Palmer and Dr. Houston are attending her," the physician said. "I
have heard nothing direct from them, but it is rumored that the girl's
back is broken."
"Poor Ilga!" burst out Polly, and hid her face in her hands amid a
torrent of tears. "It is all my fault!" she moaned. "It is all my
fault! If I hadn't asked her, she wouldn't have got hurt!"
Father and mother tried to soothe her; but her sensitive heart
shouldered the entire blame of Ilga's accident, and it required much
reasoning before she was able to look at the matter in a true light.
Further reports confirmed the first rumors about the unfortunate girl.
It was extremely doubtful, the physicians thought, if she ever walked
again. Dr. Dudley and his wife kept the sad tidings as much as
possible from Polly; but she was obliged to hear talk of it at school,
and often she would come home at noon only to spoil her dinner with
tears.
One evening Polly was, as usual, perched on the arm of her father's
chair, when he surprised her with some news.
"I had the pleasure of making Miss Ilga's acquaintance to-day."
Polly's eyes widened incredulously.
"She is at the hospital," he continued, "and has passed through a
successful operation. It is too soon to be quite positive, but
everything looks favorable to-night."
"Is she going to be able to walk?"
"We hope so."
Polly dropped her head on her father's shoulder, and sighed a deep
sigh of joy.
"How perfectly beautiful! And to think you have done it!" She caught
her breath.
The Doctor rested his cheek lightly on the sunny curls, saying
nothing. They were still sitting in silence when Mrs. Dudley came in.
Polly and her father understood each other without words.
The Senator's daughter carried out the hopes of the doctors to the
highest degree, and there came a day when Polly, at Ilga's own
request, was sent for.
Miss Hortensia Price was the sick girl's nurse, and Polly had learned
with surprise that a strong friendship was growing between them.
Nevertheless she was unprepared for any manifestation of it, and her
joy in seeing their evident love for each other made the first moments
of her visit less conscious than they otherwise might have been, for
she had been wondering if her schoolmate attached any blame to her for
the injuries received in the accident.
"Miss Price knows--I've told her!"--Ilga began abruptly; "but I want
you to know, for they said you cried when you heard I was hurt, and
you thought it was your fault. It wasn't! Not the least bit! It was
all mine! Mrs. Jocelyn's man went into the store, and told us to wait.
I didn't see why we should,--and I don't now, if the ponies were
properly trained. I wanted just to drive around the square, but
Leonora wouldn't; so I began to fool with the whip. I switched it
about, and teased the ponies. Leonora said she'd never touched them
with it, and I told her I didn't see what a whip was good for if it
wasn't used--and I don't! If she'd been quiet, I shouldn't have been
so possessed about it; but she kept saying, 'Don't, Ilga! Please
don't, Ilga!' and I hate being nagged. So finally I gave it a good
smart flirt, and off they went like a shot! Of course, I was scared,
and hardly knew what I did do. Leonora said, real low, 'Keep still!
Don't stir!' I do' know as I should have jumped, if she hadn't told me
not to. But I did, and that's the last I knew till the doctors were
fussing over me."
"But you're going to get well now!" Polly burst out delightedly.
The pale face on the pillow reflected the joy. "Yes," Ilga replied, "I
guess I am, unless they all lie to me. I know Miss Price doesn't,"
with a nodding smile towards the window where the nurse sat reading.
"But I didn't s'pose I ever should one time. I don't b'lieve I should
either, if it hadn't been for Dr. Dudley. Polly, your father is just
splendid!"
Polly's eyes suddenly filled with happy tears. This was something she
had not anticipated--at least, not yet.
The nurse came with a few spoonfuls of nourishment, and the talk
passed to other things; but Polly went away feeling that Ilga's praise
was her apology, and that her enemy had been miraculously changed into
a friend.
Yet there were hours when the old Ilga was at the front, domineering
and impertinent, and Polly would be called upon to exercise all her
tact and patience in order to keep things pleasant during her visits.
But, little by little, as the convalescent gathered strength of body
she also gained in self-control. Miss Price and Polly were her adored
examples of beautiful living, and it was plain that she was honestly
trying to attain to what she admired in them, although the
dissimilarity of eleven and thirty made the task somewhat more
difficult.
Miss Hortensia Price seemed to Polly to be more gentle than in the old
days. Or was it that she now understood her better? She could not
tell; but it was as unending a wonderment as a joy that the dignified
nurse and the untrained, ungoverned girl should have become such close
friends.
On the day set for Ilga to try walking across her room she had planned
a small tea-party for her chosen comrades.
"Wouldn't it be wiser, my dear, to wait until the next day?" Miss
Price had suggested, not daring to hint more strongly of the
possibility of the blasting of their hopes. "The excitement and
pleasure of being on your feet again should be sufficient for
Wednesday."
But Ilga, sanguine and joyous, wished her friends there to witness her
achievement, and so the preparations had gone on.
Miss Price was to be the guest of honor, and Polly, Patricia, David,
Gustave, and June English and her brother were to make up the party.
Mrs. Barron was sparing neither trouble nor money to please her
daughter, and there were to be guessing contests, with prizes for the
successful ones. It was quite out of Ilga's power to keep a secret, so
Polly had been treated to a glimpse of the dear little pussy-head
pins, with the emerald eyes, and had heard all about the odd-shaped
sandwiches and the curious cakes representing animals, birds, and
various other objects, the guessing of which was to be the feature of
the tea. She had even peeped at one of the beautiful boxes of
confections which stood ready to be given the departing guests as
sweet good-byes, until she was looking forward to the party almost as
joyfully as Ilga herself. And then the New York letter came.
Ilga noticed the change as soon as Polly appeared.
"What's the matter?" she asked abruptly.
Polly had been bravely trying to smile, but at the sudden question the
corners of her mouth flew down.
"How'd you know there was anything?" she faltered.
"Hoh, I can read you like a book! Your mother sick?"
"No, oh, no! But I can't be here at the party!"
"Why not?" Ilga raised herself on her elbow.
"We had a letter from Cousin Floyd last night, and they want me to
come to New York Wednesday morning."
"Well, you aren't obliged to go, if they do! Oh, you haven't a bit of
spunk!"
"It isn't that, Ilga. Father thinks I ought to go, seeing it's my
vacation, and so does mother. Two of my girl cousins that I haven't
ever seen are going to sail for Germany in a day or two, and they
aren't coming back for years, maybe, and they want me to help them
receive at their farewell party--"
"Oh, yes! I s'pose their party's better'n mine!" Ilga burst out
scornfully. "If you do go, Polly Dudley, let me tell you I'll never
speak--"
"My dear!" Miss Price arrested the rash words on Ilga's lips, and
took the hot cheeks between her cool palms.
The excited girl sobbed out her penitence and her disappointment in
the nurse's arms, while Polly sat by, distressed at the way things
were going.
When the tears were spent, the three talked the matter over
quietly,--or as quietly as Ilga would allow. At first she decided
peremptorily that if Polly could not be there she would have no party
at all; but arguments and persuasions finally had their effect, and
the plans were left unaltered, Glen Stewart being chosen in place of
Polly.