Polly's First Year at Boarding School Part 34

Lois puckered her eyebrows and tried hard to think; finally she said, "I just don't want any one else and that's the truth."

Polly smiled, "Bet, it's your turn; who do you want?"

"Mine? All right, let's see. I like a lot of girls-there's you and Lois and Ange and Connie-and-Oh, Jemima, but you're all going and I can't think of any one else, can you?"

"No, I can't," Polly said, laughing, "so that's settled. Let's go and ask Miss Porter."

They found the English teacher in a perfect ocean of examination papers, a daub of red ink on one ear.

"Come in, girls, I suppose you want to know if you've pa.s.sed," she said, smiling the welcome she always felt for this particular trio.

"Why, our papers aren't corrected are they?" Betty asked, excitedly. "I thought it would be days before we knew."

"Oh, please tell us," begged Polly.

"Not until I hear why you came," Miss Porter said.

"Oh, no, tell us our marks first, please, please, please," Lois beseeched.

"Very well, I will. I'm too delighted to keep it to myself another minute," Miss Porter's eyes snapped. "You all pa.s.sed wonderfully well-I can't tell you your marks, that wouldn't be fair to the rest, but I am so proud of you all."

They accepted this unexpected good news with delight. Literature was more important to them than any other subject.

"Oh, great."

"Isn't that bully!"

"I was scared to death, the examination was so hard."

"Now tell me why you came." Miss Porter put down her pen and waited.

"Will you?"

"We thought-"

"Tonight-" They all began at once.

"It's your idea, Poll, go on," Lois said.

"Well," Polly began.

"Polly, Polly," Miss Porter chided, "all your wells will surely make an ocean and drown you some one of these days."

"Oh, I know it, but it's such an easy way to begin a sentence. I won't do it again." Polly took a long breath.

"You know tonight there is nothing to do, and we thought it would be nice to go for a walk, out to the fort, just we three, and Angela and Connie; Florence and Louise said they'd come for a little while if they could."

"Yes, and?" Miss Porter asked inquiringly.

"Oh, well, of course, we want you to come, too," Polly ended, rather lamely.

Miss Porter sat very still for a minute and then she smiled, and when Miss Porter smiled it was a rare treat. If you watched her long enough you always ended by smiling, too. "That is a jolly idea," she said, enthusiastically. "Of course I'll come. I can't think of any nicer way of spending this lovely evening." Then suddenly her face fell. "Oh, my dear children, I forgot."

"What?" they demanded.

"We haven't a free evening at all. We are to have a lecture."

"You mean Mrs. Baird? But she's only going to tell us the plans for next week; it won't take a minute," Betty said a.s.suringly.

"No, that's not it; this is another quite unexpected lecture. Mrs. Baird told the faculty about it after luncheon, but it slipped my mind."

"Oh," Lois groaned, "what's it to be?"

"A lecture on New England during the Revolution, by Professor Hale."

"Hale? The Spartan-Miss Porter, did she have anything to do with it?"

Betty's eyes flashed indignation.

"The Professor is Miss Hale's cousin, I believe, and she was responsible for his coming. I think the lecture will be a very interesting one. He is going to show pictures." Miss Porter tried to be cheerful.

"Lantern slides?" demanded Polly.

"Yes, I believe that's it. I'm sorry about the walk, it would have been so nice." Miss Porter looked wistfully out of the window, as if she could see the old fort bathed in moonlight that very second. "But I am sure we will enjoy the lecture," she added hastily. The girls knew that no matter how strongly Miss Porter sympathized with them she would not permit a word against Miss Hale.

They left in silence and waited until they were in Polly's room, with the door closed, before they gave vent to their feelings.

Lois threw herself on the bed in despair. "If that isn't the meanest thing I ever heard of."

"To have to stay in on an evening like this and listen to History,"

Betty raged.

"History and the Spartan's cousin," Lois, cross as she was, could not help laughing at the combination.

"I suppose it's to get even; we weren't awfully pleasant about the Latin exam." Betty was jumping at conclusions.

"Oh, Bet, how silly." Polly turned from her place at the window. "The Spartan's not as bad as all that, she probably thinks we'll enjoy it."

"Yes, she does," Betty was skeptical.

"Polly, talk sense," Lois begged. "How could any one think that we'd rather listen to-Oh, mercy, when I think of it-the Revolution, battles and dates-Maybe the Spartan means well, only-"

But Polly was again looking out of the window. Her eye traveled over the familiar objects. The tennis court, the gym roof, and a little farther on, the corner of the stables and the power house. Something in the queer shaped little stone building caught her attention.

Betty was still raving. "But Lo, that's not the worst of it, we'll have to look at millions and hundreds of postal cards, while the Spartan's cousin explains them like this:

"My dear young ladies," Betty s.n.a.t.c.hed up a nail file from Polly's dresser and pointed to a picture on the wall; "in the foreground of this beautiful picture, we have the exact spot where five minute men fell after a heroic encounter with the British, in the year-"

"Oh, Bet, do stop; it's too horrible. Can't we cut?" There was a moment's silence.