Polly and the Princess Part 9

"If you aren't tired," she hesitated.

"Never!"

He sang again.

In the doorways upstairs and down people were listening. The little house on North Charles Street had never heard such music within its walls. As the song ceased, applause came,--uncertainly at first, then louder and steady.

The two in the back room looked at each other and smiled.

"I guess they like it as well as I do," Miss Lily said.

In response Doodles sang "Only an armor-bearer," still one of his favorites, and at its close the approval of those outside was prompt and long.

Many other songs followed; apparently the audience grew.

"They'll tire you out," the little lady fretted.

The boy shook his head decidedly, beginning for the second time, "And G.o.d shall wipe away all tears."

"Oh, it is like heaven itself!" Miss Lily breathed. Then she sighed softly. "What if I had missed it!"

"I think I shall have to go now," at last Doodles said; "but I will come and sing for you again any time, if you like,--any time when you are here." He rose and picked up his cap.

"Oh, my dear boy, I'm not ever coming back! I'm"--she began to sob, and Doodles could scarcely make out the words--"I'm going--to the--poorhouse!" She broke down, and her slight shoulders shook pitifully.

The boy stood as if stunned. Then he stepped near. "Don't cry!"

he said softly, "don't cry!"

"Oh--I can't help it!" she mourned. "I've kept up--I thought maybe I shouldn't have to go; but my eyes have given out, and I can't earn anything only by sewing--and I can't sew now! To think of me in the poorhouse!"

"I'll come and sing for you there!" cried the boy impulsively.

"Oh! you wouldn't--would you?" She clutched at the only straw of hope.

"Of course, I will! I'd be glad to!"

"You're awfully good!" She wiped her eyes.

"I didn't mean to entertain you with tears," she smiled. "Seems as if I might stop, but I can't." Her eyes were wet again.

A sudden light illumined the lad's face. He opened his lips, then shut them.

"How soon do you expect to go?" he asked.

"Some time the last of the week, the man thought." She swallowed hard. "He said he'd give me time to pick up my things--he was real good."

"I'll see you again before the last of the week," promised Doodles, putting out his hand.

She clasped it in both of hers.

"You are just a dear--that's what you are!" she said tremulously.

"And you don't know how I thank you! I can't tell you what it has been to me!"

As the singer pa.s.sed down the stairs curious eyes peered out at him; but he did not know it. His heart was full of Miss Lily's grief, although overspreading it was the beautiful thought that had come to him so suddenly a moment ago.

CHAPTER VI

"BETTER THAN THE POORHOUSE"

Polly was on the veranda when Doodles came.

"Why, Doodles Stickney! I was just thinking of you! How did you know I wanted to see you this morning?"

"I didn't," he laughed; "but I wanted to see you'"

"I'm so glad--oh, I forgot! I'm due at the dentist's at ten o'clock! Maybe I can get off."

"No, no! I couldn't stay till that time anyway. I came down on business--"

"Dear me!" laughed Polly, "how grand we are this morning!"

"I don't know whether it is 'grand' or not--it depends a good deal on the president of June Holiday Home. I'll tell you all about it," dropping into a chair beside Polly.

He related the incidents of the day before, of Miss Lily's meeting him at the church door, of his singing to her in the afternoon, and finally of her distress at going to the poorhouse.

"And I happened to think if she could only come to the June Holiday Home--"

"Lovely!" cried Polly. "I don't see why she can't!"

"Nor I, but somebody may. I thought I'd see you first and maybe you'd give me a little note of introduction--you know Mr. Randolph so well, and I never spoke to him."

"Certainly I will! I'll go right and do it now! Chris will want to see you--I'll send him out."

The note that Doodles carried away with him was in Polly's best style.

_Dear Mr. Randolph_:-- This is to introduce my friend Doodles Stickney, or to be perfectly proper, Julius Stickney. He will tell you about Miss Lily, and I do hope you will make a place for her at the Home. I have never seen her, but I know she is nice, or Doodles wouldn't like her or take so much trouble to get her in. I feel awfully sorry for her. It must be dreadful to have your eyes give out so you have to go to the poorhouse.

Miss Sniffen made a terrible fuss because you stayed at the picnic with us--or because we stayed with you. Anyway, she scolded Miss Nita like everything.

I'm afraid we can't ever have a picnic again. She began on me when I went to report our arrival--she happened to be at the desk. You know you have to report as soon as you get in, and I said I'd do it for the crowd. Miss Nita couldn't because her ankle ached so. It turned black and blue--just awful! She wouldn't say a word to anybody, and father sent some liniment by me. The first smelt so strong Miss Nita didn't dare use it for fear they'd suspect, so father sent her another kind. He said it wasn't quite so good as the smelly sort, but her ankle is a whole lot better.

Don't you think she is brave? I don't know what Miss Sniffen would say if she knew about that. We've all kept whist.

This is a pretty long letter, but I knew you'd want to hear about Miss Nita's ankle. You will let Miss Lily in, won't you?

Yours with hope, POLLY MAY DUDLEY.

Thank you ever so much for that beautiful ride! I shall never forget it.