Part 5 (1/2)
she admitted, ”I should love some own cousins. I wouldn't wonder if you'd find the letter when you go home. I feel just as if you would, and--oh, my! I didn't know it was so near nine o'clock!” as a distant _cling-clang_ made itself noticed. ”That's the last bell! Good-bye!”
And Polly whirled off, Mr. Bean gazing the way she went long after her blue plaid had vanished from his sight.
Up the street she ran, fearful of being tardy, and slacking to a walk only when a view of the downtown clock told her that she still had time to spare.
Turning in at the side gate of the house where the school was kept, she saw a lady on the front porch. In the doorway beyond stood Miss Greenleaf, the head teacher, with a girl--a very pretty girl of about her own age. This was all she had time to observe before pa.s.sing out of sight, on her way to the children's entrance. But a few words, caught just as she slipped by the house corner, stayed with her.
”I am glad, Mrs. Illingworth, that you think--”
”Illingworth!” Polly repeated softly. ”I never knew there were any Illingworths in town. Mamma used to say there weren't. I wonder if she could be related--oh, I wonder!”
Having reached her seat, she began to watch the door for the new scholar. She tried to attend to the opening exercises, but found her eyes constantly reverting to the spot of fascination, until she grew strangely excited. She really had not long to wait. Soon the girl was ushered quietly in and given a seat five desks away. Polly wished it had been nearer. Then she might have been asked to show the new pupil about some lesson, or to lend her a book. But she was at a convenient point for being observed, and that was a distinct advantage.
The girl was a slight little thing, who carried herself gracefully, without bashfulness. Her soft brown hair, brushed smoothly back from the tanned oval face, fell in long, thick braids over the slim shoulders, and disappeared in crisp ribbon bows of the same color. The dress was a simple affair of light blue wool, which fitted the wearer perfectly and gave her the air of being more richly clad than some of the girls whose frocks were of costlier material.
Polly came near giving too much attention to these interesting details, but finally settled down to study in the contented belief that she was ”going to like” the girl with the familiar name. At recess she would speak to her, and ”get acquainted.” For two hours this was her fixed hope. Then, when the rest time came, before she could make good her desire, she had the dissatisfaction of seeing the new scholar walk away arm in arm with Ilga Barron, and she turned back to her desk with sober eyes and regret in her heart.
”Isn't Patricia Illingworth lovely?” whispered a voice.
Polly looked up, to see Betty Thurston.
”Do you know her?” she questioned in surprise.
”Of course not,” smiled Betty. ”But I'm going to--if that hateful Ilga Barron doesn't monopolize her all the tune.”
”But how did you know what her name is?” persisted Polly.
”Oh!” explained Betty, ”I was up at Gladys...o...b..rne's Sat.u.r.day, spending the day, and Gladys's Aunt Julia was there there--she boards at The Trowbridge, you know, and she told us all about the Illingworths. They board there, too, Patricia and her mother. They aren't stuck up a bit, though I guess they're awfully rich. They came from 'way out West--I forget the name of the place. It's where Patricia's father's got a mine. And she hasn't ever been to school much, only studied with her mother, and rode horseback, and all that.
Aunt Julia said she was coming to our school, and I think she's lovely; don't you?”
”Sweet as she can be!” agreed Polly.
”I know why Ilga pounced on her so quick,” confided Betty. ”I'll bet she heard me telling Lilith and some of the other girls that she was rich, and that's just why. We were down in the dressing-room before school. If it hadn't been for her we could have got acquainted this morning.”
”Well, there are more days coming,” laughed Polly philosophically.
”That's what mother always tells me, when I want to do a thing right then, and can't.”
The talk pa.s.sed to other matters, yet the eyes of both girls followed the new pupil as she and her companion strolled from room to room of the little suite. Here and there they would pause for a few words with some of Ilga's friends, or to look from a window, and then move on again. The Senator's daughter was a.s.suredly doing the honors for the entire school.
Polly and Betty laid plans for ”the next time,” but Polly kept her secret hope close hidden in her heart, not disclosing it even to David on the way home.
Neither did she let it be known to father or mother.
”Prob'ly Patricia isn't related to me at all,” she argued to herself.
”It is silly to think anything about it.”
Yet the subject was still present in her thoughts at the beginning of the afternoon session, and she wondered when the opportunity that she longed for would appear. It came soon, and not at all according to her conjectures.