The Camp Fire Girls in After Years Part 18

"Have you wanted to see me?" he asked gravely.

Polly nodded.

"Then why didn't you write or have some one tell me? I would have come across the world if I had known," he replied.

In return Polly shrugged her shoulders. "I did everything I could when we were in Colorado to persuade you to be friends with me again. I behaved without the least pride; I almost begged you to be kind to me.

Of course you were very nice then and interested in Bobbin, but I could not go on forever pleading for your friendship. Still I thought at least when you heard I was ill that you might be sorry."

Then to her own complete chagrin Polly felt her eyes filling with tears.

How big and strong and restful Richard Hunt looked! Why had she not had the sense to have married him in the days when he had cared for her?

Somehow she believed that her life would have been ever so much happier and more satisfying. She could have gone on with her work too, because no one in the world except Richard Hunt had ever understood how much of her heart was wrapped up in it--perhaps because he was an actor himself and loved his own art.

Notwithstanding, Polly realized that she could scarcely cry before her visitor for his affection, which she had so deliberately thrown away a good many years before. Moreover, what would Mollie think of her bad manners toward their guest?

Slowly she got up from her chair.

"Do come into the house with me and see my sister, Mr. Hunt?" she said graciously. "And you must stay and have lunch with us, or even longer if you will. I am sure my brother-in-law will be more than happy to meet you again."

But Richard Hunt did not stir. "Please sit down again, Polly," he urged more gently. "You don't look strong enough to be walking about alone. I want to explain to you why I have seemed unappreciative of your friendliness. You will have to understand this in the future as well as now, for possibly after today I shall not see you again."

"Oh!" Polly exclaimed a little huskily, and fortunately she could not see how white her own face had turned. However, at this moment her companion was not looking at her.

"I can't be your friend, because I happen still to be too much in love with you for mere friendship," Richard Hunt continued in the quiet, self-contained fashion that had always made so strong an impression upon his companion. "I know that I have had many years to get over this feeling for you, Polly, and that I should not trouble you by mentioning my love again. Only I want you to forgive me and to realize why I may have seemed not to appreciate your wish to be friends."

But Polly was now smiling through her tears and holding out both hands in her old irrepressible Irish fashion that neither the years nor circ.u.mstances could change.

"But I don't want to be just friends with you either, Richard, if you are still willing for me to be something more after the way I have behaved," she whispered. "You see I only pretended I wanted to be your friend so you would not give me up altogether."