PATRICIA AND A FEW OTHERS
During these days that were filled to the very brim with plans and
the carrying-out of them Polly had little time for thoughts of David
or herself. Not a word had come from her quondam lover, until she had
almost ceased to expect to hear from him. To her astonishment, when she
had time for reflection, she found that David did not seem to occupy
the same place in her heart as before this overpowering interest in the
hospital’s new possession. She did not quite understand it. She felt
that she still loved David as well as ever, yet she was as confident as
she had been on that night down at Samoosic Point, that she could not
accept more promises which were almost sure to be broken.
Occasionally came a day when she would long for David with all the
ardor of her nature. Even Overlook would seem commonplace in comparison
with this irresistible passion to be to him what she once had been.
Patricia, never very tactful, spoke one morning of David.
“Doesn’t he ever write to you?” she asked.
Polly’s simple negative did not satisfy her.
“Great lover he is!” she burst out. “It shows how much he really
cares--to break off in this fashion!”
“But, Patty, you know we were never engaged,” returned Polly, flushing
and paling with the memories which were thus suddenly brought before
her.
“’Twasn’t his fault,” Patricia laughed. “Don’t you honestly think,
Polly, that if you had consented to an engagement he wouldn’t have been
so jealous? You see, then he’d have been sure of you.”
Polly shook her head. “It would have been just the same,” she said.
“Well, I don’t know,” the other concluded. “But I do know this--you
have been too meek from the first. If you’d flirted round with the
other boys, he’d have got used to it. Even now you stick to him, I know
you do; you haven’t been with anybody else all summer long. Catch me
being so loyal to a man of David Collins’s caliber! Why don’t you wake
up and have a good time? You know you could have anybody in our set.
They’d run for you if you’d as much as wave your little finger, every
man of them.”
“Patricia Illingworth! what nonsense you are talking! I am not in need
of any man, and you know I abominate flirting. I shall never marry. I
am going to be a nurse--I have made up my mind.”
“A nurse! a nurse! Polly Dudley a nurse!” Patricia swayed in a paroxysm
of glee. “That’s too funny!”
“I don’t see anything to laugh at,” grumbled Polly. “Don’t be so
silly!” as Patricia broke into fresh giggles.
“What will you wager that you’ll be engaged before I am?”
“Oh, Patty, stop your nonsense! I am in no mood for fun of that kind.”
“Then you ought to be. This nursing business right on top of the David
affair is making a regular nun of you. I think I’ll speak to your
father about it.”
“I think you won’t! I want you to come up to Overlook and stay a week
next month. Will you?”
“A week in that out-of-the-world place? I should die of homesickness.
Who’s going to be there, anyway?”
“Just the children and the housekeeper, and one doctor and the
dietitian, besides me.”
“And ‘me’ is worth the whole posse put together. Which doctor?”
“Dr. Abbe.”
“Abbe? Abbe?--oh! that good-looking little fellow? Does he know how to
flirt?”
“I hope not! He knows too much to be a fool. If he didn’t I wouldn’t
have him there.”
“Guess I’ll come and teach him how--yes, I’ll come.”
“You won’t come to visit me unless you promise not to lead him on--to
nothing. Besides, you might get caught in your own toils.”
“I can take care of myself, thank you.”
“I am not so sure of that,” Polly demurred. “You didn’t use to be this
way, Patty. What’s the matter?” She had dropped into a confidential
tone.
Patricia’s face grew pink. She laughed uncertainly. “Oh, I’m all
right!” she returned, stooping ostensibly to tie her shoe, which the
other was positive did not need tying.
“I don’t like it,” Polly went on softly; “I like you best as you always
have been. You are too much a woman to be a flirt.”
“It’s fun!” laughed Patricia. “You may as well break men’s hearts as to
have them break yours.”
The eyes of the girls met, Polly’s soft with sympathy, the other’s
sharp with recklessness.
The next minute Patricia was rattling on again. “I don’t believe I’ll
come up, after all,” she observed lightly. “I’m afraid Abbe isn’t a
good sport. Why don’t you take Marston? He knows how to keep up his
end.”
“I don’t want him,” replied Polly.
“Wouldn’t he feel flattered to know that!” laughed Patricia.
“He wouldn’t like the position. He would want to go down to Overlook
every evening. You know Lilith is going up to help me?”
“No! Is she really? I’m afraid you will both die of lonesomeness.”
“We shall love it,” Polly assured her with emphasis.
“I’m willing. On the whole I think I’ll come. How soon you going?”
“Next week if the cabin is ready.”
“How alluring that sounds! Bye-bye! Be good to yourself, and don’t fall
in love with that little Abbe!--No, dear, don’t come down, I can let
myself out.”
Polly turned back to her room with a faint smile. “Fall in love with
Dr. Abbe!” she scorned. She had been writing to her Cousin Floyd. He
was about to be married, and when Patricia came she was explaining
to him why she could not be present at the wedding. She took up the
half-written note upon her desk.
“I shouldn’t want to go, anyway,” she said to herself. “I am not
interested in weddings--I wonder if I ever shall be.”
Suddenly her eyes brimmed. “Oh, David,” she sobbed softly, “why
couldn’t you trust me!”
Tears eased the tension, and presently her thoughts touched Patricia.
So she, too, had become acquainted with sorrow. Her old friend was
surely not the sweet-hearted Patty she had known so long. Could the
trouble have to do with John Eustis? Until quite recently the two
had seemed to drift together wherever they might be, and Polly had
sometimes wondered if they cared seriously for each other. Now she
recalled that Patty seldom spoke of him in a personal way, and her
name had not been included in John’s list of possible members of the
week-end party at Overlook. Patricia was not a girl to give confidences
freely. Hitherto she had never seemed other than happy; and her griefs
if any existed had not been shared even with Polly.
That afternoon in the bookshop she met John Eustis. As he waited at a
counter, she fancied that he was graver than usual; then, as he turned,
a smile illuminated his plain face, and he came forward quickly.
“It’s an age since I’ve seen you!” he exclaimed. “I was afraid you had
gone.”
“Not till next week. Mrs. Gresham decided that the kitchen must be
enlarged and have a piazza of its own; so we’re waiting until the
addition is floored and shut in. I am wondering what Benedicta will
say.”
He laughed. “Write me. It will be worth hearing.”
“Come up to Overlook and hear it,” Polly returned. “Why can’t you and
Kate?--Do!” She was about to add, “Patricia has promised me a week,”
but a sudden impulse made her wait.
“Perhaps we can,” he answered, with thanks, his face lighting. “Kate
would be overjoyed. I mustn’t tell her just yet,” he laughed, “or she
wouldn’t give me any peace until we were in the car, ready to start.
But I will surely try to bring her up before you come home.”
Now was her time!
“I do hope you will,” she said. “I want a visit from all my friends
while we are there. It would be jolly to have a regular house party,
but that is impossible. Patricia has promised me a week--if only you
and Kate could come then!” She was furtively watching his face, and
noted the almost tragic expression that suddenly swept it. The pallor
was closely followed by a veritable blush, even up to his hair. She had
caught him unawares, and guiltily she dropped her eyes.
Straightway John was under control, saying in even tones:--
“That would be fine, indeed; but it is barely possible that I shall not
be able to come at that time. Business must be considered first, you
know, and we are unusually busy this summer.”
Polly went back to her car, where the children were waiting, feeling
that one thing was sure--it was John Eustis who had caused Patricia’s
bitter, reckless mood. But what was the trouble? That would be harder
to discover.
Her patients chattered and laughed with one another; occasionally the
little one who sat between her and Evan would call her attention to
something along the wayside and receive an absent answer; but Polly’s
mind was engaged with matters far from the country road. What was the
trouble between Patricia and John? If she could only get them up
to Overlook at the same time! But--well, perhaps she had better let
matchmaking alone. She hoped it would right itself--John was such a
nice boy!