Polly's Senior Year at Boarding School Part 28

Polly finished b.u.t.toning her dress.

"Maud," she said sternly "go back upstairs. To-morrow we may be able to see the joke, but not now."

Maud left with f.a.n.n.y. "I'm most awfully sorry," were her last words.

A few minutes later, the girls sought the comfort of Mrs. Baird's charming sitting-room, and the promised hot soup.

Between sips they told her the story of their hunt and the fears that beset them. She listened delightedly, but with ready sympathy.

"You poor, dear children! What an experience! I talked to Maud very severely."

Betty thought she said: "I will talk."

"Don't tell her what we've told you," she begged, "I wouldn't have her know for anything."

"She'd say it was no end of a joke," Polly laughed.

Mrs. Baird nodded in understanding.

"Of course I won't tell her," she said merrily. "It's a secret just between us," she added with a smile.

CHAPTER XV

THE JUNIOR PROM

Polly and Lois were busily packing their suitcases, while Betty and Angela stood by and offered suggestions. They were leaving on the afternoon train for Cambridge to attend the Junior Prom. Bob and Jim had finally prevailed upon Mrs. Farwell to let them come. Barring the party at f.a.n.n.y's this was their first big dance, and they were both frankly excited about it.

"What time does your mother get here?" Betty asked. "Is she coming up to school?"

"No; we're going to meet her at the Junction, where we change for the Boston train," Lois replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I hoped I was going to see her." Betty was very fond of Mrs. Farwell.

"She'll be here for Commencement," Polly said, "so will Uncle Roddy; he's crazy to see you again. And this summer we're going to have a big house party, Ange. You've got to come this time with Bet."

"I'd love it, if you won't insist on my breaking in colts, and-- Look out, Lo! if you don't wrap up those slippers in tissue paper they'll be all scratched--"

"I haven't any tissue paper; won't a towel do?"

"Yes; here, I'll throw you one."

"Mercy! I almost forgot my silk stockings," Polly exclaimed. "Get them out of my bottom drawer for me, will you, Bet, like an angel?"

Betty hunted in the drawer. "They're not here."

"Then look on the closet shelf."

"Here they are. Mercy, aren't they beauties! b.u.t.terflies embroidered on them!" Betty drew one on over her hand and admired it.

"That's Lo's taste," Polly said. "She gave them to me for Christmas.

There, I think that's everything." She surveyed her neatly packed bag.

"I do hope my dress won't be wrinkled."

"What are you going to wear for an evening coat?" Angela inquired.

"Our capes," Lois answered.

"You'll freeze to death, and the hoods will crush your hair."

"Well, what will we do?" Lois asked. "Wear veils?"

Angela considered a minute, and then left the room to return with a long scarf of maline over her arm.

"Here, take this, one of you; wait till we decide which one it's the more becoming to." She put it around Polly's neck and drew part of it up over her hair.

"Very sweet, but," Betty said, "try it on, Lo."

"Perfect! you get it," she said, as they viewed the effect, and certainly the soft, flimsy tulle did make a charming background for Lois' delicate beauty.

"Polly, you need something more severe," Angela said.

"I've a wonderful Roman scarf; it's all lovely pale shades. I'll get it; wait a shake," Betty offered. "There you are," she said, triumphantly, when she had pulled it tightly around Polly's head. "You look Italian; all you need is a pitcher on your shoulder."

"It might interfere with my dancing," Polly laughed. "Thanks, ever so much, Betty dear; I'll lend you my b.u.t.terfly stockings when you go up to West Point."

"Then, don't you dare dance holes in them," Betty warned. "Perhaps you'd better not dance at all; it might be safer," she added.

"Just find a nice comfortable chair and sit in it and keep your feet off the floor," Angela suggested. "Then, if any one asks you to dance, why, tell them that you'd like to but Betty says you mustn't."

"I've taken enough clothes for a month." Lois looked despairingly at her bag. "Sit on it, will you, Bet?" Together they closed it and Lois locked it as a precaution against its flying open.

"It's nearly time to start." Polly consulted her watch. "I'm so excited my heart's in my mouth."

"There's your carriage; it's waiting," Angela said, looking out of the window. "You'd better hurry. Here, I'll take one bag." Betty took the other, while Polly and Lois tried frantically to pull on their gloves.

"Be sure and remember everything," Betty said, as they ran downstairs, "so you can tell me how to act next week."

"We will," Polly promised.

They met Mrs. Farwell an hour later and took the train for Boston.

"I had a letter from Bob this morning," she told them. "He says that he will not be able to see us until luncheon time to-morrow; he's awfully busy, I suppose."

"Maybe he's trying to find partners for us," Lois laughed, "and he's not finding it easy."