The Apology
"But--but I didn't do it in that spirit in the least, Miss Polly," the
young man pleaded, still refusing to let the girls pass him unless they
actually forced their way. "It was all a joke, a horribly poor one, I
agree with Miss Meg. But it began by accident and then grew until none of
us realized how foolish and worse than that it was. Oh, if you only knew
what it is like to feel like a cad and to hate yourself through and
through and yet to know that whatever you do you can never change things!
We never dreamed you would take it all so seriously or be so completely
deceived. We thought you would see through us pretty soon and then scold
for a while and afterwards laugh along with the rest of us."
"But Polly's ambition is not a joke to her," Betty returned, seeing that
Polly either couldn't or wouldn't speak. "She takes it as seriously as
you can take the most serious ambition of your life. And to come here and
do her best in order that all of you might make fun of her, really it is
so cruel and in such bad taste I don't feel I can like any of you for a
long time, not even Meg and Mollie." Betty's gray eyes were so full of
high-bred reproach, her face betrayed such a spiritual distaste that, if
Billy Webster could have felt more humbled, which was quite impossible,
he would have at this moment.
"But I was not making fun, at least not after Miss Polly began her
recitation," he returned. "I thought it quite remarkable and I would have
given a very great deal if that accident had not happened so that I might
have heard her straight through. I confess I don't approve of well-bred
girls even thinking of going on the stage, and I do sincerely hope Miss
Polly will give up the idea before she is much older, but if it's a
question of talent, well, I don't think there can be much doubt of her
having talent enough."
Billy said this so earnestly and with such evident sincerity that at any
other time it might have slightly appeased Polly. Now, however, her
feelings were too badly wounded for any outside balm.
Mollie was crying, so that she could hardly do or say anything, but Meg
walked quietly up to Billy Webster, taking him by the sleeve. "Let the
girls go now, Billy, please. It is not the time to detain them. Perhaps
when Polly has thought things over a little she will realize we did not
intend to wound her so deeply and will remember that she has probably
made mistakes with people sometimes herself. I expect Mollie had better
stay all night with me so that she won't have to discuss this question
any more to-night."
And at this Polly and Betty both looking a little relieved retired into
the hall, where they found their coats and hats and put them on with
Meg's assistance, saying good-bye to her politely enough as they started
toward home.
It was not necessary, however, for Polly to have to ask Betty not to talk
to her on their way to the cabin, for Betty's gift of sympathy and
understanding was one of her surest charms. She even explained to Rose
and the other girls on their arrival that Polly had developed a headache
on the trip back from town and asked to be left alone for the rest of the
evening to sleep it off. However, when supper was over, by Polly's
request, she asked that Rose would give her a few quiet moments and in
those moments she made her friend's and her own confessions. Rose was not
quite so angry, or so wholly on Polly's side, as Betty believed she
should be. For in the first place Miss Dyer was vexed with the two girls
for not having told her of their intentions and suggested that their
interview having developed into a joke was perhaps the best way out of
it. It was rather an unkind joke, but then Polly took herself far too
seriously and in her heart of hearts Rose hoped the young lady might
learn a useful lesson through her uncomfortable experience.
And in a measure Rose's wish was gratified, for Polly did not soon
recover from her hurt and shame and did not refer again either to Miss
Adams or her own future ambition. Apparently, so far as any one knew, she
had given up all thought of it, for she settled down more seriously to
the work of the Camp Fire, gaining each month additional honors, and was
also working to acquire a prize at school. Of course she had to forgive
Mollie her part in her discomfiture; Mollie was so truly repentant once
she discovered how deep was her sister's hurt and Polly with all her
faults was not one to cherish anger. Then by and by she also made up with
Meg, though it was a good many years before she had exactly the same
intimate feeling with her as she had with the other Camp Fire girls. In
future years it was always Mollie and Meg who were particularly intimate.
But there was one person whom Polly could not bring herself to pardon.
For the rest of that winter she never again spoke to Billy Webster. He
and Mollie remained good friends and sometimes with another girl used to
take walks together, so that Polly saw him now and then at the cabin and
oftentimes when she was walking or driving through his father's woods.
However, though he never failed to raise his hat to her, she always
behaved as though he were made of thin air and so impossible for her to
behold.
However, Polly had not given up her ambition in spite of her altered
behavior. Nevertheless, the shock to her pride had, though she did not
herself realize it, been extremely good for her, making her realize how
silly her pretensions must seem to other people. And so through this, and
by watching Esther Clark go quietly ahead with her music, working
steadily without asking either for reward or admiration, she learned
several valuable lessons. Besides, Polly was so truly happy in the
thought that her beloved mother was to return home early in the spring.
Mrs. O'Neill had written her daughters that she was coming home in April
and that she had a wonderful secret to tell them which she hoped they
would rejoice in for her sake. She also said that an old Irish uncle had
died during her stay abroad and had left to Mollie and Polly a legacy of
two thousand dollars each, so that they need have no worry about their
education. If it were possible Mrs. O'Neill hoped to see Mrs. Ashton
before coming back to America, so that she could bring Betty and Dick a
better report of their father's exact condition than letters had yet been
able to give them.