Part 35 (1/2)

”And isn't Jasper coming back?” asked Phronsie, in great distress.

”Yes, oh, I guess so,” said Polly. ”Well, there, the pretty glow has all faded; see, Phronsie,” pointing up to the leaden clouds that no one who had failed to see a few moments before could have imagined alive with colour. ”Now we ought to run over to the others, for they'll be going back to the hotel.”

”It's all gone,” said Phronsie, sadly, looking up at the darkening sky.

”Polly, where has the pretty red and pink gone to?”

”Oh, I don't know,” said Polly, thinking only of Tom, and what a hard time Jasper must be having with him. ”Take care, Phronsie, don't look up now--you'll fall! There, take my hand; now come on.”

”O dear me, I didn't mean to laugh,” Adela was saying to herself as she fell back in the zig-zag path down the rocks. ”I wish I hadn't--I'll--I'll--” What she meant to do wasn't very clear in her mind; what she did do, was to run up to her grandmother's and her room, and toss her sketch-book on the table, and herself on the bed, for a good hearty cry.

Polly found her there, when they couldn't find her anywhere else, with much searching and running about. Little old Mrs. Gray was worrying dreadfully, so afraid she had been blown from the rocks; for the wind had now risen, and all the travellers were seeking the shelter and warmth of the hotel corridor and parlours.

”Oh, Adela, how _could_ you?” Polly was going to say. And then she thought that would be the very worst thing in all the world, for Adela's shoulders were shaking, and it would only make her cry worse.

And besides, Polly remembered how she had sometimes given way in just this fas.h.i.+on, and how much worse she would have been, had it not been for a wise, good mother. So she ran out in the hall. ”I must tell her grandmother,” she said to herself.

”Have you found her?” asked Jasper, looking up from the foot of the staircase.

”Yes,” said Polly, ”I have.”

”All right.” And Jasper vanished, and Polly went slowly back, wis.h.i.+ng she could be downstairs with all the dear people, instead of trying to comfort this dismal girl. The next moment she was kneeling down by the side of the bed, and trying to get hold of one of Adela's hands. But Adela bounced over to the farther side, and she cried out angrily, ”It's all very well for you to say so, because you didn't do it. And everybody likes you. O dear me--tee--hee--boo--hoo!”

”But I've often done things just as bad,” confessed Polly, ”and, Adela, I've cried like this, too. But Mamsie--oh, Adela! she made me see it was wrong; so I had to stop it, you know.”

”How is it wrong?” asked Adela, rolling over, and taking the handkerchief away from one eye enough to see Polly Pepper's face. ”I can cry, I guess, if I want to, without asking anybody.”

”Oh, no, you can't,” said Polly, decidedly. ”I mean no one can.”

”Why not, pray tell?” said Adela, sniffing very hard. ”My eyes are my own, and I shall cry, too, whenever I want to.”

”Well, I can't just tell you exactly why you can't cry when you want to,” said Polly, afraid she wasn't going to say the right word, ”but Mamsie could if she were here. I'll go and call her, Adela.” And Polly sprang to her feet. ”She'll come, I know.”

”Oh, no--no,” cried Adela, in mortal alarm. ”I don't want her--I mean I'd rather have you. You're a girl; and a woman talking at me scares me.”

”Then you mustn't cry if I stay,” said Polly, stopping short, and seeing her advantage, ”for I surely shall go, Adela,” she added firmly, ”unless you stop crying.”

”O dear me.” Adela squirmed all over the bed. ”I can't stop--I've always cried as much as I wanted to. O dear me--boo-hoo-hoo! I mean--I'll stop, don't go--” sopping up her wet face with a nervous hand. ”See, Pol-_ly_!” for Polly had slipped out of the room. Adela flew off from the bed. ”Polly--Polly, Pol-_ly_!” she called, in a piteous little tone.

Polly, halfway down the stairs, looked back. ”Oh, you are up,” she said, with a smile. ”Now that's fine; come.” And she held out her hand.

”Mercy me, and O my!” cried Adela. ”I can't go looking like this; why, I'm a perfect sight, I know, Polly Pepper! and my nose feels all bunged out of shape and as big!”

”Never mind,” said Polly, as rea.s.suringly, ”just dash some water over it, and it'll be all right. I'll wait here for you.”

So Polly stood on her stair while Adela, bemoaning all the way that she didn't look fit to be seen, and that she was a perfect sight, and she couldn't go down among them all, stumbled back into her room. And pretty soon Polly heard a big splash. ”O dear me--oh, what shall I do?”

”What _is_ the matter?” cried Polly, deserting her stair, to run in and up to the washstand.

”Just see what I've done,” exclaimed Adela, holding out one arm. It was dripping wet, and the water was running off in a stream and down to meet a small puddle where the splash had struck on the floor.

”The pitcher slipped--O dear me--ugh--” cried Adela, wriggling all over.