Part 13 (2/2)
”Oh, Meg Emmet and--John Everett. Isn't it absurd? But Anthony has always felt a prejudice against John ever since we were boys and girls together here in Woodford,” Betty explained. ”I don't care particularly for John now myself. He has grown kind of stupid and thinks too much about what he eats, but it would look utterly ridiculous of me to cut him for no reason except that Anthony is absurd.”
Polly dug her chin deeper into the palm of her hand as she so often did in moments of abstraction.
”Seems like a little enough thing to do if Anthony wishes it and you could do it very gracefully you know, Princess dear,” Polly replied.
”Besides, I am not so sure Anthony has no reason for his prejudice. I never liked John Everett a cent myself when we were all young. He was always trying to lord it over the rest of us and pretend to be very rich and grand and superior. Besides, Betty Graham, I don't believe I should care to have a husband who would do every solitary thing I asked him to do. Somehow, I think I would like him to have a little judgment of his own now and then. So you really wish Anthony to do exactly as he is told. I wonder if your children are as obedient? But come along, dear, it is getting so late Mollie will be having fits about us. Fortunately you are a more sensible woman than I am. A perfectly obedient husband is about the last thing in this world I require. To what dreadful end would I bring him!”
But Betty did not stir from her stool even when her companion had crossed over the room and now stood holding out her long fur coat, waiting for her to put her arms inside it.
”Dear, if there is one thing I am more sure of at this moment than of anything else, it is that I am not _so_ sensible a woman as Polly O'Neill. Though goodness knows I never could have believed it!” Betty whispered, laughing and yet profoundly in earnest. ”It was a most excellent sermon and I mean to do my best to profit by it. Truly I have been behaving like a spoiled child for weeks. I know Anthony has a great many things that trouble him and I ought to have been more considerate.
Somehow I expect this marriage is really more the girl's business than the man's. He has to make the living for the family in most cases and the Camp Fire taught us that home making was a girl's highest privilege.”
Then Betty got up and slipped on her beautiful long coat and the two friends started back toward Mollie's big farm together.
In all their girlhood they had never felt more intimate or more devoted.
Yet neither one of them talked much during the long walk, just an occasional question now and then.
The sun was going down, but there was an after-glow in the sky and because of the whiteness of the snow there was still sufficient light.
At least Polly and Betty could see each other's faces with perfect distinctness.
They had nearly reached the farm-house when Betty suddenly stopped and put both hands on Polly's shoulders.
”Look me directly in the eyes, Polly,” she commanded.
And Polly attempted doing as she was bid, but her lashes drooped until they touched her cheeks.
”Have you fallen in love with some one recently, Polly? Is that why you talked about yourself in such a discouraged fas.h.i.+on just now and lectured me so severely?” Betty inquired.
Polly shook her head. ”I don't know whether you would call it falling in love recently, Betty, or whether I have been in love for the last ten years. But I saw Richard Hunt again when I was in Colorado and he was even nicer than he used to be. He don't care a single thing about me any more, Betty. He hasn't even sent me a Christmas card! The letter I had from him a few days ago was all about Bobbin. He wasn't even interested enough to inquire if I was well.”
CHAPTER XIX
A CRY IN THE NIGHT
BECAUSE she was tired from her long walk and her conversation and from other reasons Polly went up-stairs to bed sooner than her sister and brother-in-law.
As a special privilege the children had begged that Bobbin should be allowed to sleep in the nursery with them, and rather against her will Polly had consented. The little girl had previously occupied a small room connected with her own.
However, she was too weary for argument, and besides Mollie's babies were cross and unreasonable. They had been playing all afternoon with the Christmas tree which stood in the big back parlor just under Polly's room. Anything to get them safely stowed in bed and the house quiet!
For Polly had expected to lie awake for a number of hours, reflecting on many things, when in point of fact immediately after retiring she sank into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Moreover, about ten o'clock Mollie and Billy also decided to follow their sister's example. And it was Billy himself who closed up the windows and made the house ready for the night. Only he failed to go into the back parlor where the Christmas tree stood and where the floor was now littered with discarded toys and games and the walls hung with dried-out evergreens.
He was under the impression that the windows in this room had been closed and locked when the children departed to bed. Moreover, locking up at the farm-house was more of a custom than a necessity. No one had any real fear of burglars or tramps. Besides, the windows in the back parlor were locked and no danger was to come from the outside.
But it must have been only about three hours later when Mollie suddenly awoke with a scream and start. A hand had pa.s.sed lightly over her face.
The next instant and Billy jumped up and seized hold of the intruder.
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