Part 9 (2/2)
”Yes.”
She gazed at him wistfully, her heart in her eyes.
”Your mother will tell you about it,” he said, rising from his chair.
”No, no, Robert!” protested his wife. ”Stay and tell her yourself!”
Polly looked from one to the other. Was it something dreadful, this mysterious ”business”? They smiled, to be sure, but not at all as if they felt merry.
Dr. Dudley sat down again, and leaned forward, his arms upon his knees.
”Patricia wants you for her sister,” he announced.
”That's queer!” Polly puckered her forehead. ”I don't see why it isn't enough for me to be a cousin.”
”But they would like you to come and live with them, and--”
”Well, I shan't!” she burst out. ”The idea! They might know I wouldn't. Did you s'pose I'd want to?” she queried. ”Did you, mother?”
Mrs. Dudley shook her head.
”Let me tell you what Mrs. Illingworth says,” the Doctor went on. ”She thinks she can give you greater advantages than I can--of education, society, and travel.”
”Travel!” Polly cried scornfully; ”I don't want to travel anywhere!
Why isn't Miss Townsend's school as good for me as it is for Patricia and David? And I guess society at The Trowbridge isn't any better than it is here!”
The Doctor and his wife laughed. Mrs. Dudley's arms tightened their clasp.
”You haven't heard all,” the Doctor resumed. ”Mrs. Illingworth offers you a thousand dollars, to use exactly as you choose, if you will come.”
The indignant blood rushed to Polly's fair face.
”Do I look as if I were for sale?” she demanded. ”Do I?”
Mrs. Dudley drew her down for a kiss and a ”Polly, darling!”
”I haven't noticed any price tag,” her father responded, twinkling.
”Well,” between a sob and a chuckle, ”I think I'll tie a card round my neck, and print on it, 'Not for sale.' As if money'd make up for you and mother!” She hid her face on the snug shoulder. Then she popped up.
”How would the minister like it, if you should go to him and say, 'Here, I want your wife' (I heard you tell mother, the other day, that you thought she was beautiful), 'and I'll give you a thousand dollars if you'll let me have her!' How do you think he'd like that?”
”Not a bit!” laughed the Doctor. ”He might knock me down.”
”He ought to!” a.s.serted Polly. ”And I don't like it any better than he would. Mrs. Jocelyn didn't offer me money, but 'twas just the same. I don't want to be bought!” She turned suddenly. ”You don't think I ought to go, do you, mother?”
”No, indeed!” The tone was emphatic enough to satisfy Polly. ”If you went I think I should have to go, too!”
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