Polly of Lady Gay Cottage Part 13

"Mother always makes things go her way," she declared, "and it is a beautiful way, too!"

When it came to deciding on the guests, all was harmonious, even when Polly submitted the name of Ilga Barron, to whom Leonora had felt a strong dislike since her first day at school.

"But you can have her if you want her," she conceded. "I only hope she won't spoil the party."

Polly had the same secret hope, mingled with not a little fear; but she kept silent regarding it, only saying:--

"She has been pleasant lately, and I don't want to snub her just as she's growing good."

On the afternoon of Polly's birthday, the school furnace needed immediate repair, and the session came to an early close. It had been arranged for Polly to ride home with Leonora; but as the carriage was not there they took a trolley car, Leonora not being yet quite strong enough for so long a walk.

Polly was the first to spy it, the fairy-like automobile, all white and gold, in front of Mrs. Jocelyn's house. The girls, excited with wonder, walked slowly past the beautiful little car.

"It must belong to somebody's fairy G.o.dmother," laughed Leonora.

"Or to t.i.tania," added Polly. "It is pretty enough to be hers."

"Whose do you really s'pose it is?" queried Leonora, loitering at the side entrance for another look.

But Polly had not even a suggestion beyond the fairy queen.

"Let's hurry up and find out!" she cried. And they raced round to the back door.

Barbara, one of the maids, showed plain dismay when she saw them.

"Stay here, here in this room!" she commanded excitedly.

"I want to see mother," objected Leonora.

"No, no!" replied Barbara, with unheard-of severity. "She got vis'tors."

"Did they come in that lovely car? Oh, do tell us that!" Leonora wheedled.

Barbara hesitated, looking from one to the other.

"Please!" coaxed Polly.

"Yes," she finally admitted, "they come in it. But I not tell more."

She shut her lips tightly.

Tilly, the cook, slipped outside, and after a while returned with the word that the girls could go where they chose. They were quick to use the permission; but, as Polly surmised, the little car was gone.

Mrs. Jocelyn only smiled unsatisfactory answers to their eager questions, and they wondered much what it all could mean.

Soon after tea Polly was sent home in the coach, with a box of eleven long-stemmed superb pink roses, a birthday present from Leonora. She ran into the living-room to show them to her father and mother, but stopped just inside the threshold, staring at the corner where a low bookcase had stood. There, shining with newness, she saw a handsome upright piano.

"Why, father," she cried, "what made you do it? You said you couldn't afford one just yet, and I could have waited as well as not!"

Dr. Dudley smiled down into her eager face.

"I didn't," he answered. "We were as much surprised as you are. Read that!" pointing to a card tilted against the music rack.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed the bit of white.

To Polly, with all the love and happy birthday wishes that can be packed into a piano.

From her friend, JULIET P. JOCELYN.

Polly drew a long breath of joy.

"Isn't it lovely!" she beamed.

The next minute her fingers were racing over the keys in a musical little waltz.

Early the next morning came David with a "Little Colonel" book for Polly.

"I didn't know whether to bring it over yesterday or not," he laughed; "but I finally thought I'd better wait for the intermediate day."

"It wouldn't make any difference," returned Polly, fingering the book admiringly. "Thank you ever and ever so much! I've wanted to know more about the 'Little Colonel.' But what kind of a day did you call it?"

"Intermediate," he replied. "Isn't that right?"

"Of course," she a.s.sured him promptly, always secretly marveling at David's ability to use words with which she was unfamiliar. "It sounds beautiful."

"It means halfway between, I think," he explained; "so I thought it was an appropriate word."

"It is," declared Polly, "a great deal better than just between. It makes it seem more important."

David laughed, and then, spying the piano, admired Polly's new instrument to her full satisfaction, and ended by sitting down and singing a little song which she called "another birthday present."

Shortly before two o'clock the birthday guests began to arrive at Mrs.

Jocelyn's beautiful home. The two mothers, one in white and the other in gray, and the two girls, dressed exactly alike in soft white wool, with pink sashes and ribbons, received informally in the east drawing-room, and when the girls and boys were all there Mrs. Dudley started a game.

They were in the midst of the fun, when Polly, glancing at Ilga Barron, was troubled to see an ugly scowl. The children were in a circle, alternate girls and boys, secretly pa.s.sing a ring from hand to hand, and it chanced that Ilga had a place between Otto Kriloff and Cornelius O'Shaughnessy.

"Oh, if she makes a fuss!" thought Polly, and straightway the charm of the game vanished.

Ilga's face grew black and ominous. Suddenly, with a scornful "I guess I won't play any more!" she dropped the hands she held, and, with head high, walked mincingly over to the window, and stood with her back to the others.

"What's the matter?" broke from several mouths and showed in every face--every face but Polly's. Polly knew, or thought she knew.

"We'll keep right on," she said in a soft, tense voice; and the play proceeded, yet not as before.

Wondering glances were continually cast towards the window, where the yellow-clad figure stood dark against the light. The Senator's daughter received more attention than the ring.

Meantime Ilga grew tired of waiting for the game to end, and, with a furtive look in the direction of the players, she sauntered off towards the hallway.

At once Polly excused herself, and followed.