AN UNEXPECTED GUEST
One of Polly's first questions on her return was of Ilga Barron. If
she had not been so over-occupied while in New York, the fact that not
a word was written her of Ilga would have given her great concern. As
it was she had had only time for brief surprise on receipt of letter
or card; then it would slip from her mind. But now she eagerly awaited
her mother's answer. It was slow in coming, and then was accompanied
by an ominous shake of the head.
"Ilga's party day ended sadly. Her first few steps were such a joy
that she forgot herself, and started on with a skip. Her foot
caught--"
"Oh!" cried Polly in consternation, "did she fall?"
Mrs. Dudley nodded, hastening to say, "Your father thinks she will
come out all right in time, but there will have to be a long waiting.
She realizes it is her own fault, for Miss Price warned her to be
careful; but that doesn't make it any easier to bear."
"Poor Ilga!" mourned Polly. "While I was having such a splendid time
she was feeling so bad! I'll go to see her right away, and tell her
all about my visit. Perhaps that will help her to forget."
So Polly found her work waiting for her, and she took it up with her
usual readiness; but it was hard to settle into the regular school
routine after the exciting whirl of that gay fortnight. Cards had come
from Floyd and Harold, but the absence of the latter when she left
them was not even mentioned. This she could not understand, for she
had expected an apology as the very least amends he could make. Taken
altogether such rudeness seemed to Polly unpardonable, after Harold's
protested affection. Still his message was as warm-hearted and loving
as ever, and she wisely tried to put the matter aside as one of the
things that could not be explained away.
When she had been at home a week, and New York was beginning to fade
into the past, she returned from afternoon school to find nobody in
sight as she entered the back door. Quietly she went through the
house, and hearing voices in the library she halted to ascertain if
there were company. A few words arrested her.
"It is a shame for you to have to do so much for so little," Mrs.
Dudley was saying.
The Doctor laughed softly. Polly could almost hear his eyes twinkle.
"You, too!" he retorted.
"Nonsense!" she protested; "all I'm doing is to try to keep the
household expenses down as low as possible."
"And that is the main thing. You have done admirably. I hoped we could
be out of pinch before long--and now this cut-down in salary!"
"Never mind! we shall get on all right," came in Mrs. Dudley's cheery
tones.
"Of course," the Doctor agreed; "but it means too much scrimp for you.
It is what I did not anticipate. If I had more time for outside
practice"--he stopped, as if musing. "And if it weren't for the coal
bill!"
"That coal bill is your bugbear," laughed his wife. "Don't worry,
Robert! It isn't like you. Winship isn't bothering you about it, is
he?"
"Not a bit. It is only that I hate debt, and--"
Polly involuntarily tiptoed away, feeling strangely guilty at having
overheard what was not intended for her ears. So her father's salary
had been cut down! And it was small enough before! She had heard the
coal bill spoken of awhile ago,--yes, when she was getting ready for
New York,--but she had given it no thought. And her mother had bought
her new things to wear! Distress swept her heart. She was an added
expense--ought she to have gone to live with her uncle? He was rich.
He could pay his coal bills. He was never in pinch. Oh! did her father
and mother wish she had gone? There was no peace for Polly. Dutifully
she crept over to the hospital to see Ilga, but found her in a pettish
mood, and she returned home more disturbed than before. She longed to
offer her bank money again, but she knew it would be of no use.
Besides, she did not wish her father and mother to know she had been
eavesdropping. She blushed with shame at the thought. Why had she not
run away at once, or gone boldly into the room. Oh, how she wished she
had!
Bedtime found her in the same frame of mind, although she tried to
appear as if nothing had occurred. She had bidden her mother
good-night, and her foot was on the stair, when the doorbell rang.
"I'll go," she called softly into the library, and then skipped to
answer the summons.
As the door opened she gave a surprised little scream.
"Harold Westwood!"
The boy darted inside, clasping his cousin with a glad cry.
"I supposed you were at boarding-school," Polly told him.
"I was," the lad replied a bit shamefacedly. Then bravely, "I ran away
to see you!"
"Why, Harold!"
"I don't care!" was the dogged response. "I had to!"
"I shouldn't think they'd have let you come in the night," said
Polly, leading him into the library.
The introduction relieved the lad of the necessity of an answer; but
Polly innocently plied her questions.
"Why didn't Julian come, too? Was it a half-holiday?"
For an instant Harold looked disconcerted. Then he replied boldly:--
"Jule doesn't know! I tell you, I ran away!"
Polly's eyes widened in astonishment. Mrs. Dudley smiled
understandingly.
"I gave the conductor my watch for security," the boy went on. "I told
him how 'twas, and he let me ride,--I guess out of his own pocket. He
was a good one! You see, I spent all my money in a jiffy for the first
part of the way and something to eat. I didn't s'pose tickets cost so
much."
"You dear child!" murmured Mrs. Dudley, her eyes soft with sympathy.
Then she caught him in her arms, as if he had been a baby.
"Have you had any supper?"
A weary little negative sent her into the pantry, and soon the hungry
lad was eating bread and butter and cheese and cookies, and feasting
his eyes upon Polly at the same time.
"Say, where in the world were you when I came away from your house?"
was the sudden inquiry.
"Out in the garage," Harold answered promptly.
"But didn't you hear us call?"
He nodded, his lips puckered into a half-smile.
"Why didn't you answer, then?" Polly was plainly puzzled.
"Because," he blurted out defiantly, "I wasn't coming to say good-bye
for anybody!"
"Perhaps you thought, with Dickens," interposed Mrs. Dudley
considerately, "that it is easier to act good-bye than to say it."
"It is!" declared Harold, wagging his head. "I guess he knew!"
Over the wires, after the children were asleep, went messages to
school and home that banished anxiety, and then the Doctor and his
wife talked long into the night. It had been a disturbing day.
At breakfast Harold announced his intention of remaining in Fair
Harbor and going to school with Polly, but an early telegram from his
father ended his happy planning. He scowled as he read the yellow
slip.
"Return to school at once, and behave yourself."
"Botheration!" he grumbled, "I s'pose I'll have to! Pop always means
what he says."
Yet the lad enjoyed his breakfast, judging by the number of bananas
and muffins that disappeared from his plate, until Polly, thinking of
yesterday's overheard talk, wondered what they should have done if her
cousin had followed out his desire. Bananas cost; she was not so sure
about muffins. In consequence of which she restricted her own appetite
to the latter, and made her mother question if she were quite well, to
pass by her favorite fruit.
Equipped with tickets for the journey and sufficient money to redeem
his watch, besides a generous luncheon, Harold was put aboard the ten
o'clock train. Notwithstanding his longing heart, he carried himself
pluckily, consoled by Mrs. Dudley's invitation to spend a week of his
summer's vacation in Fair Harbor. Yet she saw him suspiciously sweep
his eyes with the back of his hand as the train whirled him off, and
she sighed in sympathy, thinking, "Poor little fellow! he needs a
mother!"