THE WAY HOME
NOT a long time afterward Bobbin must have changed her mind for some
reason or other, for voluntarily she came to call on Miss O'Neill. That
is, she appeared in the garden and threw a queer scarlet flower up to
the veranda. Then she waited without trying to escape when Polly came
down to talk to her. And evidently she must have felt, somewhere back in
the odd recesses of her mind, that she was to be considered a visitor,
for she had washed her face and hands and even her hair. Indeed, though
it hung perfectly straight, Polly thought that she had never seen more
splendid hair in her life, it held such strange bright colors from being
always exposed to the sun and air; besides, it was long and heavy.
Moreover, Bobbin wore an old red jacket, which some one recently had
given her, over the same pitiful calico dress.
By and by, using all the tact she possessed, Polly persuaded her visitor
out of the yard and up-stairs to her own rooms. Of course Marie, the
maid, was shocked and displeased, but after all she was fairly
accustomed to her mistress's eccentricities. Moreover, after a little
while she too became interested in Bobbin. The first thing Polly
undertook to do was to feed her visitor. She had an idea that Bobbin
might be hungry, but she did not dream how hungry. The girl ate like a
little wolf, ravenously, secretly if it had been possible. Only,
fortunately, she had learned something of table manners from her
occasional training in institutions, so that she at least understood the
use of a knife and fork, and altogether her hostess was less horrified
than she had expected to be.
Later on Bobbin and Polly undertook to have a conversation. This they
managed by acquiring large sheets of paper and nicely sharpened pencils.
But it was astonishing how easily Bobbin appeared to understand whatever
her new friend said to her and how readily she seemed to be willing to
accept her suggestions.
The truth is that the half savage little girl had conceived a sudden,
unexplainable devotion to the strange lady whom she had discovered
asleep on the sands. Perhaps Bobbin too may have dreamed dreams and
imagined quaint fairy tales, so that Polly's appearance answered some
fancy of her own. But whatever it was, she had offered her faithful
allegiance to this possible fairy princess or just ordinary, human
woman. Yet how Bobbin was to keep the faith it was well that neither she
nor Polly knew at the present time.
However, by the end of her visit the girl had promised to go back to the
home which the town had provided for her and to do her best to learn all
she could. As a reward for this she was to be allowed to make other
visits to Miss O'Neill. She was even to be allowed to eat from the same
blue and white china and drink tea from the same blue cup.
Moreover, before Bobbin's final departure Marie persuaded her into the
bathroom and half an hour later she came forth beautifully clean and
dressed in a discarded costume of Polly's, which was too long for her,
but otherwise served very well. It was merely a many times washed white
silk shirt waist and blue serge walking skirt and coat. They made Bobbin
appear rather absurd and old, so that Polly was not sure she had not
liked her best in her rags. However, both Bobbin and Marie were too
pleased for her to offer criticism; yet, notwithstanding, Polly made up
her mind that she would try and purchase the girl more suitable clothes
as soon as possible and that she would write and ask Betty Graham's and
Sylvia's advice in regard to her.
For Richard Hunt had not come to see her since their accidental meeting
and she could hope for no interest from him. Polly wished she had never
laid eyes upon him, for their little talk had only served to start a
chain of memories she wished forgotten. Besides, of course, she felt
lonelier than ever, since there is nothing so depressing as waiting for
a friend who does not come.
Soon after dinner that evening Polly undressed and put on a pretty kind
of tea gown of dark red silk, the color she had always fancied ever
since girlhood. She was idling about in her sitting room wondering what
she could do to amuse herself when unexpectedly Mr. Hunt was announced.
"Why, Polly," he began on entering, his manner changed from the coldness
of their first meeting, "do you know what that gown you are wearing
brings back to me? Our talk in the funny little boarding house in Boston
so many years ago, when you explained to me that you had run off and
were in hiding in order to try and learn to be an actress. I wish I
could tell you how proud I am of your success."
But Polly did not wish to talk of her success tonight. So she only
shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I have always been doing foolish things for
the sake of my acting and yet I don't seem to amount to much."
After this visit Richard Hunt returned half a dozen times. Polly did not
understand whether he was acting in the West not far from Colorado
Springs or whether he too was taking a holiday. She asked the question
once, but as her old friend did not answer her explicitly she let the
matter drop.
Nevertheless it was quite true that from the time his visits began she
grew steadily better. Finally, about ten days before Christmas, Miss
O'Neill's physician announced that she might return to the New Hampshire
hills to complete her cure at her sister's home.
Then came the hour of final decision in regard to Bobbin.
Of course Polly could not adopt the girl in the conventional sense. It
would have been impossible to have her travel about with her or to have
kept her constantly with her. And even if it had been possible this was
not what Bobbin needed. Fortunately for Polly, Richard Hunt's ideas on
the subject were far more sensible than her own. Between them it was
decided that Bobbin should travel east with Miss O'Neill and her maid
and spend Christmas at the big Webster farm. Mollie had written she
would be glad to have her. Then later Bobbin was to see Sylvia Wharton
and be put into some school where she might learn to talk and perhaps
acquire some useful occupation.
There was no difficulty in persuading the town authorities to permit the
little girl to follow her new friend. Indeed, the child had always been
a tremendous problem and they were more than glad to be rid of the
burden. She seemed completely changed by Miss O'Neill's influence. She
was far quieter and more tractable and had not run away in several
weeks. Besides this she appeared to be learning all kinds of things in
the most extraordinary fashion. However, her teacher explained this to
Polly by saying that Bobbin had always been unusually clever, but that
some wild streak in her nature had kept her from making any real effort
until now.
Another peculiarity of the girl's which Polly remembered having seen an
example of on the morning of their first meeting was that she had
absolutely no sensation of physical fear. Either nothing hurt her very
much or else she was indifferent to pain. For this reason it had always
been impossible either to punish her or to make her aware of danger. The
thought interested Polly, since she considered herself something of a
coward. She wondered if some day she and Bobbin might not change places
and the little girl be discovered taking care of her.
However, when the three women finally started east there was nothing
unusual in the appearance of any one of them. For by this time Polly's
protege was dressed like any other girl of her age with her hair neatly
braided. There only remained her peculiar fashion of staring.
Richard Hunt saw the little party off. He expected to be in New York
later in the winter and promised to write and inquire what had become of
Bobbin. However, he did not promise to come to Woodford to see Miss
O'Neill, although Polly more than once invited him.