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diff --git a/34926.txt b/34926.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c2d0081 --- /dev/null +++ b/34926.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5120 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp Fire Girls in After Years, by +Margaret Vandercook + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Camp Fire Girls in After Years + +Author: Margaret Vandercook + +Release Date: January 12, 2011 [EBook #34926] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN AFTER YEARS *** + + + + +Produced by Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: RICHARD HUNT SAT DOWN ON A WAYSIDE BENCH WITH HER] + + + + + +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN AFTER YEARS + +BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK + +Author of "The Ranch Girls Series," etc. + +ILLUSTRATED + + PHILADELPHIA + THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. + PUBLISHERS + + + + + Copyright, 1915, by + THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY + + +STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS + +Six Volumes + + THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SUNRISE HILL + THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AMID THE SNOWS + THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE OUTSIDE WORLD + THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ACROSS THE SEA + THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS + THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN AFTER YEARS + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. THE INAUGURAL BALL 7 + II. NEW NAMES FOR OLD ACQUAINTANCES 21 + III. IDLE SUSPICION 32 + IV. TIES FROM OTHER DAYS 44 + V. SOMETHING UNEXPECTED 55 + VI. THE FIRST DISILLUSION 66 + VII. A NEW INTEREST 79 + VIII. "BOBBIN" 91 + IX. BACK IN NEW HAMPSHIRE 101 + X. LONELINESS 110 + XI. A MEETING AND AN EXPLANATION 120 + XII. THE WAY HOME 132 + XIII. "A LITTLE RIFT WITHIN THE LUTE" 140 + XIV. SUSPICION 150 + XV. WAITING TO FIND OUT 160 + XVI. A TALK THAT WAS NOT AN EXPLANATION 172 + XVII. CHRISTMAS 180 + XVIII. THE STUPIDITY OF MEN 191 + XIX. A CRY IN THE NIGHT 201 + XX. THE DISCOVERY 212 + XXI. ONCE MORE IN CONCORD 221 + XXII. THINGS ARE CLEARED UP 230 + XXIII. FINIS 244 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + RICHARD HUNT SAT DOWN ON A WAYSIDE BENCH WITH HER _Frontispiece_ + PAGE + HE GLANCED QUICKLY ABOUT HIM AND THEN DISAPPEARED 39 + ANGEL HAD CAUGHT BETTINA'S ATTITUDE ALMOST EXACTLY 167 + SHE SPRANG OUT OF BED HERSELF THE NEXT MOMENT 239 + + + + +The Camp Fire Girls in After Years + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE INAUGURAL BALL + + +FACING the hills, the great house had a wonderful view of the curving +banks of a river. + +Half an hour before sunset a number of workmen hurried away across the +grounds, while a little later from behind the closed blinds glowed +hundreds of softly shaded electric lights. The lawns were strung with +rows and rows of small lamps suspended from one giant tree to the next, +but waiting for actual darkness to descend before shedding forth their +illumination. + +Evidently preparations had been made on a splendid scale, both inside +the house and out, for an entertainment of some kind. Yet curiously +there seemed to be a strange hush over everything, a sense of anxiety +and suspense pervading the very atmosphere. Then, in odd contrast to the +other lights, the room on the third floor to the left was in almost +total darkness save for a single tiny flame no larger than a nurse's +covered candle. + +At about half-past six o'clock suddenly and with almost no noise the +front door of the house opened. The next moment a slight form appeared +upon the flight of broad steps and gazed down the avenue. From behind +her came the mingled fragrance of roses and violets, while before her +arose the even more delicious tang of earth and grass and softly +drifting autumn leaves of the late October evening. + +Nevertheless neither the beauty of the evening nor its perfumes +attracted the girl's attention, for her expression remained grave and +frightened, and without appearing aware of it she sighed several times. + +Small and dark, with an extraordinary quantity of almost blue-black hair +and a thin white face dominated by a pair of unhappy dark eyes, the +girl's figure suggested a child, although she was plainly older. In her +hand she carried a cane upon which she leaned slightly. + +"It does seem too hard for this trouble to have come at this particular +time," she murmured in unconscious earnestness. "If only I could do +something to help, yet there is absolutely nothing, of course, except to +wait. Still, I wish Faith would come home." + +Then, after peering for another moment down the avenue of old elms and +maple trees, she turned and went back into the house, closing the door +behind her and moving almost noiselessly. + +For the present no one else was to be seen, at least in the front part +of the big mansion, except the solitary figure of this young girl, who +looked somewhat incongruous and out of place in her handsome +surroundings. Notwithstanding, she seemed perfectly at home and was +plainly neither awed by nor unfamiliar with them. The hall was decorated +with palms and evergreens and festoons of vines, and adorning the high +walls were portraits, most of them of men of stern countenance and of a +past generation, while here and there stood a marble bust. But without +regarding any of these things with special attention the girl walked +quickly past them and entered the drawing room on the right. Then at +last her face brightened. + +Surely the room was beautiful enough to have attracted any one's +attention, although it was not exactly the kind of room one would see in +a private house, for it happened to be in the Governor's mansion in the +state of New Hampshire. + +In preparation for the evening's entertainment the furniture had been +moved away except for a number of chairs and divans. The two tall marble +mantels were banked with roses and violets and baskets of roses swung +from the two crystal chandeliers. + +With a murmured exclamation the girl dropped down on a low stool in the +corner where the evergreens almost entirely concealed her and where she +appeared more like an elf creature that had come into the house with the +green things surrounding her than an everyday girl. For a quarter of an +hour she must have remained there alone, when she was aroused from her +reverie by some one's entrance. Then, although the girl did not move or +speak, her whole face changed and the sullen, unhappy look disappeared, +while oddly her eyes filled with tears. + +There could have been nothing fairer in the room than the woman who had +just come quietly into it. She must have been about twenty-eight years +old; her hair was a beautiful auburn, like sunshine on certain brown and +red leaves in the woods in late October; her eyes were gray, and she was +of little more than medium height, with slender hips, but a full throat +and chest. At the present moment she was wearing a house gown of light +blue cashmere, and although she looked as if life might always before +have been kind to her, at present her face was pale and there were marks +of sleeplessness about her eyes and mouth. + +Apparently trying to summon an interest in her surroundings which she +scarcely felt, she glanced about the room until her eyes rested on the +silent girl. + +"Why, Angel, what are you doing in here alone, child? How lovely +everything looks, and yet I am afraid I cannot come down to receive +people tonight. All afternoon I have been trying to make up my mind to +attempt it and each moment it seems more impossible." + +Then with a gesture indicating both fatigue and discouragement the woman +sat down, folding her hands in her lap. + +"But the baby isn't any worse, I heard only half an hour ago," the +younger girl interrupted quickly, and in answer to a shake of the head +from her companion went on: "You simply must be present tonight, +Princess. This is the greatest night in your husband's career and you +know the Inaugural Ball would be an entire failure without you! Staying +up-stairs won't do little Tony any good. And think what it would mean to +the Governor to have to manage all alone! You know you promised Anthony +before his election that you would attend to the social side of his +office for him, as he declared he didn't know enough to undertake it. So +you can't desert him at the very beginning." + +Swiftly Angelique Martins crossed the room and seated herself on the arm +of her friend's chair. "I promise you on my honor that I shall sit just +outside little Tony's bedroom the entire evening and if he is even the +tiniest bit worse I shall come down and tell you on the instant." + +There was a moment of silence and then the newly elected Governor's wife +replied: "I suppose you are right, Angel, and I must try to do what you +say, for nothing else is fair to Anthony. Yet I never dreamed of ever +having to choose between my love and duty to my baby and my husband! But +dear me, I am sure I have not the faintest idea how the Governor's Lady +should behave at her first reception, even if I have to make my debut in +the character in the next few hours." + +Then, in a lighter tone than she had yet used in their conversation, +Betty Ashton, who was now Mrs. Governor Graham, smiled, placing her hand +for a moment on that of her companion. + +For the friendship between Betty Ashton and the little French girl whom +she had discovered at the hospital in Boston had never wavered even +after the Betty of the Camp Fire days had become Mrs. Anthony Graham, +wife of the youngest governor ever elected to the highest office in his +state. Moreover, Betty and Anthony now had two children of their own, +the little Tony, a baby of about two years old, who was now dangerously +ill on the top floor of the Governor's mansion, and Bettina, who was +six. + +Angelique Martins was almost like an adoring younger sister. She was +approaching twenty; yet on account of her lameness and shyness she +appeared much younger. But she was one of the odd girls who in some ways +are like children and yet in others are older than people ever dream. +After her mother's death, several years before, she had come to live +with Betty and Anthony and held a position as an assistant stenographer +in the Governor's office. Ordinarily she was strangely silent and +reserved, so that no one, not even her best friend, entirely understood +her. + +"But you must not miss the ball tonight, Angel," Betty now continued +more cheerfully. "You and Faith have been talking of it for weeks, and +so I can't have you sacrifice yourself for me. Besides, one of the +nurses can do what you offered and send me a message if I am needed. +Don't you remember that your dress is even prettier than Faith's? I was +perfectly determined it should be." And Betty smiled, amused at herself. +She was always a little jealous for her protege of Faith Barton. It was +true that since their first meeting at Sunrise Cabin the two girls had +become close friends. But then Betty could seldom fail to see, just as +she had in the beginning, the painful contrast between them. Faith had +grown into a beautiful girl and Dr. Barton and Rose were entirely +devoted to her; and she had also both charm and talent, although still +given to impossible dreams about people and things. + +Angel now shook her head. "You know you would feel safer with me to +stand guard over Tony than if you had only one of the servants," she +argued a little resentfully. Then with her cheeks crimsoning: "Besides, +Princess, you know that I perfectly loathe having to meet strangers. No +one in the world except you could ever have induced me even to think of +it. I am ever so much happier alone with you and the children or pegging +away at my typewriter at the office. I believe people ought to remain +where they belong in this world, and you can't possibly make me look +like Faith by dressing me up in pretty clothes. I should never conceive +of being her rival in anything." + +There was a curious note in the lame girl's voice that passed unnoticed, +for her companion suddenly inquired: "By the way, dear, do you know what +has become of Faith? I passed her room and she was not there. I hope she +is not out alone. I know she has a fashion of loving to go about in the +twilight, dreaming her dreams and composing verse. Still, when she is +here visiting me I would much rather she did not." + +"But Faith isn't alone. She is with the Governor's secretary, Kenneth +Helm," Angel answered. "Mr. Helm came to the house with a message and +Faith asked him to go out with her." + +Betty smiled. Faith Barton scorned conventionalities and felt sure that +she was above certain of them. "Oh, I did not know Kenneth and Faith had +learned to know each other so well in two weeks' time," she replied +carelessly, her attention wandering to the little Tony up-stairs. +"However, Faith is all right if she is with Kenneth. I know Anthony has +the greatest possible trust in him or he would never have selected him +for his secretary in such troublesome political times as these. I don't +believe you seem to like Kenneth as much as you once did. But you must +not be prejudiced against so many people. He used to be very kind to +you." + +Without waiting for Angel's reply Betty walked away. If she could have +seen her expression she might have been surprised or annoyed. + +For sometimes Angel had wondered if it would be wise for her to take her +friend into her confidence. Surely she had reasons for not being so sure +of the Governor's confidence in his secretary. But then what proof had +she to offer against him? Besides, people often considered her +suspicious and unfriendly. Moreover, in this case the French girl did +not altogether trust herself. Was there not some personal reason in her +dislike? It was entirely true that she had not felt like this in the +beginning of their acquaintance. + +With a feeling of irritation against herself, Angel started to leave the +drawing room. This was plainly no time for worrying over the future; she +must go and have something to eat at once so as to be able to help watch +the baby. There was only one regret the girl felt at her own decision. +She was sorry not to see Betty receiving her guests at the Inaugural +Ball tonight. For her friend remained her ideal of what a great lady +should be in the best sense. Moreover, there would be other old friends +whom she had once known at Sunrise Cabin. However, some of them were +guests at the mansion, so she could meet them later. + +Out in the hall the little French girl now discovered Faith and Kenneth +Helm returning from their walk. The Governor's private secretary must +have been about twenty-four or five years old. He was a Yale graduate +and had light-brown hair and eyes of almost the same color. He had the +shoulders of an athlete, a clear, bright complexion, and as Angel +watched them she could not deny that he had a particularly charming +smile. However, he was assuredly not looking at her. It was absurd to +care, of course, yet nevertheless even the humblest person scarcely +likes being wilfully ignored. And Angel was sure that the young man had +seen her, even though he gave no appearance of having done so. + +The next moment, after her companion's departure, Faith Barton turned to +her friend. Faith's cheeks were delicately flushed from her walk in the +autumn air and her pale gold hair was blowing about her face. Her blue +eyes were wide open and clear and she looked curiously innocent of any +wrong or misfortune in the world. Surely there were seldom two girls +offering a more complete contrast than the two who now tiptoed softly +down the long hall together. + +"I am going to rest a little while," Faith said at parting. "But do let +us try to have a long, quiet talk tomorrow. I want to tell you a secret +that no one else in the world must know for the present." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +NEW NAMES FOR OLD ACQUAINTANCES + + +THERE was a shimmer of silver and blue on the stairs and then the man +with his eyes upturned saw his wife moving toward him in a kind of +cloud. + +The next moment with a laugh of mingled embarrassment and pleasure Betty +Graham put up her hand, covering her husband's eyes. + +"You must not look at me like that, Anthony, or you will make me +abominably vain," she whispered. "Wait until the girls and the receiving +party appear and then you will see what an ordinary person the new +'Governor's Lady' is and repent having raised humble Betty Ashton to +such an exalted position." + +Arm in arm the husband and wife now moved toward the drawing room. + +"How little we ever dreamed of this grandeur, dear, in the days when I +had to work so hard to persuade you to marry me." + +"Perhaps if I had known I never should have dared," Betty went on, still +half in earnest. "But I mean to do the best I can to help in our new +position, although I must confess I am dreadfully frightened at having +to receive so many distinguished people tonight. However, nurse says +Tony is really better. And I shall have you to tell me what I ought to +say and do." + +Now under the tall crystal chandelier the young Governor lifted his +wife's hand to his lips with a smile at her absurdity. In spite of his +ordinary origin Anthony Graham had a curious courtliness of manner. It +was amusing to hear Betty talking of being afraid of people. All her +life she had had unusual social charm, winning friends and admiration in +every circle of society almost from her babyhood. Naturally in the years +since her marriage, during her husband's struggle from the position of a +successful young lawyer in a small town to the highest office in the +state, both her charm and self-possession had increased. Indeed, it was +well known that she had been her husband's chief inspiration and aid, +and there were many persons who declared that it had been the wife's +beauty and money that were responsible for the husband's success. +However, this remark was made by the Governor's political enemies and +not his friends and was of course untrue. + +Nevertheless Anthony did look somewhat boyish and insignificant tonight +for his distinguished position. He was of only medium height, and +although his shoulders were broad, he had never lost the thinness of his +boyhood due to hardships and too severe study. Yet there was nothing +weak or immature about his face with its deep-set hazel eyes, the high, +grave forehead with the dark hair pushed carelessly back, and the firm, +almost obstinate, set of his lips. + +Indeed, the young Governor already had gained a reputation for +obstinacy, and once persuaded to a policy or an idea, was difficult to +change. This trait of character had been partly responsible for his +election to office. For there had been serious graft and dishonesty in +the politics of New Hampshire, and led by Anthony Graham the younger +men in the state had been able to defeat the old-time political ring. +Whether or not the good government party would be allowed to remain in +power depended largely on the new Governor. He had promised to stop the +graft and crime in the state and to give positions to no persons who +were not fitted for them. Of course this meant that he must have many +enemies who would do their best to destroy his reputation. Already they +were aware that the young Governor's one weakness was his devotion to +his beautiful wife. + +But Betty used often to be amused at the outside world's opinion of her +husband's character. For never once in their married life so far had he +ever refused any request of hers. Therefore the real test was yet to +come. + +Five minutes later and there was once more the sound of movement and +laughter on the stairway when the re-opening of the drawing room door +admitted six persons, who were to form the first members of the +receiving line. + +First came Doctor and Mrs. Richard Ashton. Already Dick had made a +reputation for himself as a surgeon in Boston, while Esther was one of +the plain girls who so frequently grow handsomer as they grow older. Her +tallness and pallor with her abundant red hair and sweet yet reserved +manner formed tonight as striking a contrast to her sister's grace and +animation as it had in the days when they first learned to know of the +closeness of the tie between them. + +Mr. and Mrs. William Webster had come all the way from Woodford to +Concord, leaving three babies at home, to assist their old friends at +the Inaugural Ball. You must have guessed that Mollie O'Neill, as Mrs. +William Webster, would have grown plumper and prettier during the busy, +happy years of married life with her husband and children on their large +farm. For Mollie now had a small daughter "Polly," named for her beloved +twin sister, and a pair of twin sons, Dan and Billy. She was more than +ever in love with her husband and, many people believed, entirely under +his thumb. Yet there were times when Mollie could and would assert +herself in a surprising fashion just as she had in former days with her +girl friends. + +Tonight she was wearing a white silk which looked just the least bit +countrified and yet was singularly becoming to Mollie's milk-white skin, +pink cheeks and shining black hair. Yet in spite of never having changed +his occupation of farmer, there was little to suggest the countryside in +Billy Webster's appearance, except in his unusual strength and size. For +he had fulfilled the prediction made to Polly O'Neill over a Camp Fire +luncheon many years before. He had remained a farmer and a highly +successful one and yet had seen a good deal of the world and understood +many things besides farming. + +Of the three Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls who had within the last few +moments joined Betty and her husband, the third was the most changed. +For is it not difficult to imagine Meg Everett transformed into a +fashionable society woman, Meg, whose hair never would stay neatly +braided, whose waist and skirt so frequently failed to connect? + +However, after a number of love affairs, to her friends' surprise Meg +had married a man as unlike her in taste and disposition as one could +well imagine. He was a worldly, fashionable man, supposed to be wealthy. +Anyhow, he and Meg lived in a handsome house, owned a motor car and +entertained a great deal. They had no children, and perhaps this was the +reason why Meg did not look altogether happy. Sometimes her old friends +had wondered if there could be other reasons, for Meg had always been a +warm-hearted, impetuous girl, careless of fashions and indifferent to +conventions, and now she was always dressed in clothes of the latest +design and at least appeared like a fashionable woman. + +Nevertheless Meg had always been more easily influenced than any other +of the Camp Fire girls, hating to oppose the wishes of any one near to +her heart. Her husband, Jack Emmet, was an intimate friend of her adored +brother John. He and Meg made an attractive couple, for although Mr. +Emmet was not handsome, he was tall and had a slender, correct figure +and sharply cut features with light blue eyes and brown hair. Meg's +costume was quite as beautiful as Betty's, a soft rose silk and chiffon, +and her golden hair was fastened with a small rope of pearls. + +"You are as lovely tonight as ever, Betty, and I know Anthony is proud +of you," Meg whispered, holding her friend's hand for an instant. +"Remember when you once believed that Anthony was falling in love with +me? Silly child, he never thought of any one except you! But then he and +I have always been special friends since he believed I helped him win +you. I want to tell him how proud I feel of you both tonight." + +As Meg moved away, Mollie's plump arm, which was only partly concealed +by her glove, slipped inside her hostess's. + +"It is nice we can have a few moments to ourselves before the ball +begins," she remarked shyly, glancing toward her husband, who was for +the moment talking with Jack Emmet. The two men did not like each other, +but had been forced into conversation by Meg's moving off with Anthony. + +Betty kissed her friend, quite forgetting the dignity of her position on +the present occasion. + +"Dear old Mollie, it is good of you to have come to help me tonight! I +know you don't like this society business. How I wish we had Polly here +with us! She promised to come if possible, but I had a telegram from her +only this afternoon saying that she is almost on the other side of the +continent. It was dated Denver, I believe." + +The same look of affectionate incomprehension which she had often +directed toward Polly, again crossed Mollie Webster's pretty face. + +"It is just as impossible as ever to keep up with Polly," she explained +half complainingly. "She has been acting through the West all summer, +but promised to come home for a visit this autumn. Now she writes she +won't be here for some time. Dear me, I do wish that Polly would marry +and settle down. Of course I know it is wonderful for her to have become +such a distinguished actress, but I never think she is very happy and I +am always worrying over her." + +Betty laughed and then looked serious. "Polly never will settle down, as +you mean it, Mollie dear, even if she should marry," she argued, +forgetting for the moment the other friends close about her and the +evening's ordeal. For her thoughts had traveled away to Polly O'Neill, +who was to her surprise still Polly O'Neill. For at one time she had +certainly believed that Polly had intended marrying Richard Hunt, the +actor, and just why their engagement had been broken no one had ever +been told. Possibly it was because Polly had wished to devote herself +entirely to her work. She had always said as a girl that marriage should +never be allowed to interfere with her career, and certainly it had not. +For the Polly who had made her first success some ten years before in +the little Irish play was now one of the best known actresses in the +United States. Indeed, she had succeeded to the position once held by +Margaret Adams, since Margaret Adams had married and retired. + +However, for the present there was no further opportunity for mutual +confidences, since in the interval Faith Barton had appeared and with +her the Governor's new secretary, besides a dozen other persons, most of +them political friends, who were to assist in opening the Inaugural +Ball. + +As Anthony joined her, Betty felt her cheeks flush and her knees tremble +for an instant. Moving toward them, accompanied by his wife, was the man +whom Anthony had defeated in the election for Governor. To save her life +Betty could not help recalling at this instant all the hateful things +this man had previously said against her husband. Yet she must not be +childish, nor show ill feeling. Ex-Governor Peyton and his wife were +much older than she and Anthony, and besides they were their guests. + +Betty's manner was perfectly gracious and collected by the time the +visitors reached them. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +IDLE SUSPICION + + +SHE had sat huddled up in a chair outside the baby's room for several +hours. Her self-sacrifice had been entirely unnecessary, as half a dozen +persons had assured her, but Angel was by no means certain that she was +not happier in her present position than if she had been down-stairs in +the crowded ballroom unnoticed and perhaps in the way of the few people +who would try to be kind to her. + +Two or three times she had stolen in to look at Tony. He was sleeping +quietly and peacefully, a big beautiful baby with Betty's soft auburn +hair and Anthony's hazel eyes. But now a clock somewhere was striking +twelve and Angel decided that she must have a look at the guests before +they went away. She had put on the white frock of soft chiffon and lace +that Betty had given her, but somehow it only made her look more +childish and insignificant. Her face was pale now with weariness and her +hair and eyes seemed so dark in comparison as to give her a kind of +uncanny appearance. Perhaps waiting to gain more courage and perhaps for +other reasons, immediately after leaving the nursery Angel, before +starting down-stairs, went into another big room at the end of the hall. + +As the girl leaned over to gaze at a little sleeper a small hand reached +up and touched her face. It was that of Bettina, the "little Princess" +as everybody called her. Nevertheless Bettina was not in the least like +her mother. She had long hair that was gold in some lights and in others +a pale brown, and her eyes were bluer than gray. Indeed, Polly had once +said of her two or three years before, that Tina's eyes had no color +like other people's, for they merely reflected the lights above them +like a clear pool. The little girl was slender and quiet and many +persons believed her shy, which was not altogether true. Possibly the +oddest of her characteristics was her ability to understand what other +people were thinking and feeling without being told. + +Now she whispered: "Why don't you just find a place where you can see, +Angel, without any one's seeing you? I shall want you to tell me +everything tomorrow. Mother won't understand in the way I mean." + +Of course that was just what she should have been doing for these past +two hours, Angelique thought to herself as soon after she slipped away. +But it was like Bettina to have suggested it. Already she knew the exact +place where she might have been in hiding all this time. + +On the second floor toward the rear of the house there was a kind of +square landing which faced a small room that was oddly separated from +the other apartments. For this reason the Governor had chosen it for his +private study. Only one servant was allowed to enter this room and very +rarely any member of the family. For in it were kept a number of +important letters and papers. + +But concealing the entrance tonight were a number of palms and other +tall plants, and by placing a small camp chair behind them one could +see through the railing of the balustrade down into the big hall. The +music was there and many beautifully dressed people were walking up and +down. + +The little French girl stared for ten minutes without moving. She had a +curious, almost passionate love of beautiful people and things, +inherited from some far-off French ancestor, who may have been a great +artist or perchance only carried a great artist's longings in his soul. +Indeed, Angel had real talent of her own and whatever her hands touched +she could make lovely, whether it was designing a dress, decorating a +room or even making a sketch of a scene or a flower, anything that had +appealed to her imagination. Through her Camp Fire training she had +learned to make remarkable use of her hands, especially in the days +before she was able to leave her wheeled chair. Indeed, Betty and all of +her friends had been disappointed when she had failed to follow some +artistic profession. Betty had urged and pleaded with her to become an +artist or designer and had offered to pay her expenses, yet as soon as +she was well enough Angel had insisted upon studying something through +which she could at once make her living. By this time the little French +girl had been brought too close to life's realities not to understand +its difficulties. To make her living as an artist or a designer would +take years and years of study and work before she could hope to succeed. +Besides, Betty, in spite of Judge Maynard's legacy, was not so rich as +she was generous and there were always other people to be thought of. +For the Princess had never ceased her generosities, and even if her +husband had become a distinguished man it would be difficult for him +ever to be a rich one unless something unforeseen happened. Therefore +Angel had been happy enough with her stenography and typewriting and +with her new position in the Governor's office. For in her heart of +hearts it was her philosophy that duty could be done every day and +beauty kept for certain exquisite moments. + +Now, however, she felt that one of these perfect moments had come. Only +she wished that Betty or some one whom she knew might appear within her +range of vision. It was entertaining, of course, to watch the strangers +and to decide whose clothes were prettiest and guess their names. + +Angel drew her chair farther away from the landing so she could peep +squarely through the banisters and was now some distance from the study +door. Moreover, the following moment she had caught a glimpse of a +friend whom she had wished to see almost as much as Betty. There stood a +tall girl with pale gold hair, wearing a frock of white and blue, and +talking to a young man in as absorbed a fashion as if they had been +entirely alone. It was difficult to see her companion and yet the French +girl felt that she might have guessed before she finally discovered him. +For Faith's face wore the same rapt, excited expression it had worn that +afternoon on returning from her walk. What could it mean? Angel +pondered. Surely Faith and Kenneth Helm did not yet know each other well +enough for Faith's secret to have anything to do with him. Their +acquaintance had started only about ten days before. + +[Illustration: HE GLANCED QUICKLY ABOUT HIM AND THEN DISAPPEARED] + +Surely in her absorbed interest Angelique had no thought of spying on +her friend, for two people could not be seriously confidential when +hundreds of others were close about them. Nevertheless the watcher felt +her own cheeks flush guiltily as she saw the young man below her +whispering something in his companion's ear. The next instant, however, +Faith had left the hall with some one else. Then to her intense +consternation Angel observed Kenneth Helm coming alone straight up the +broad stairs. Could it be possible that either one of them had seen her +and that Faith was sending Kenneth to bring her down to the ballroom? +With all her heart Angel hoped not. She would like to have gotten up and +run away to shelter, yet knew it was impossible for her to move without +making a noise. By remaining silent there was just a chance that Kenneth +Helm was on his way to the men's dressing room and would not notice her. +Moreover, if Faith had not sent him to find her probably he would not +even speak to her. + +It was quite true that the girl in hiding need have felt no concern. The +young man certainly did not see her, nor did he pass her by. For some +odd reason he stopped for a moment at the top of the landing, glanced +quickly about him and then disappeared inside the Governor's private +study, opening the door with a key which must have been given him for +the especial purpose. + +"What could Kenneth wish in there tonight?" Angelique wondered idly, +somewhat relieved because his errand plainly had nothing to do with her. +Moreover, there was too much that was absorbing below stairs to give a +great deal of thought to anything else just at present. + +The next instant Angel started, uttering a little gasp of anger and +dismay, as a hand was laid rudely upon her shoulder. + +"Whom are you spying upon now, 'Angel in the House?'" the young man's +voice asked mockingly. "Don't you think that perhaps you are rather an +uncanny person anyhow?" + +The girl flushed and found it impossible to keep her lips from +trembling. When she had first gone to work in Anthony Graham's office, +Kenneth Helm had also been employed there and had been unusually kind to +her. Recently, however, he seemed to have avoided and almost to have +disliked her. This she knew had caused a change in her own attitude, so +perhaps her prejudice against the young man's position as the Governor's +private secretary was largely due to this. Nevertheless she had done +nothing to deserve the change in his treatment of her, and if a human +being is disloyal to one friendship, why not to another? + +However, at the present moment the girl only wished to be left alone, so +she merely shook her head, explaining: "I didn't mean to be spying upon +any one, and I am sorry if you think I am uncanny." Then she glanced +pathetically down toward the cane at her side, and this time her +companion blushed. + +"Oh, I did not mean that, Miss Martins. That is not fair of you," he +remonstrated. "But please don't mention to the Governor or any one that +you saw me go into his private study tonight, will you? You see, I had +forgotten something that I ought to have attended to at the office. My +memory is not so good as yours. Won't you let me take you down-stairs?" + +The lame girl rose slowly, not knowing exactly how to refuse the young +man's offer. Besides, she remembered what Betty had said to her. "She +must not be so suspicious and prejudiced against people." + +"Certainly I won't speak to Mr. Graham of your having gone into his +office. Why should I?" she conceded, laying her hand lightly on her +companion's arm. "Besides, do you think I talk to the Governor about his +affairs just because I live in his house? He is so quiet and stern I am +dreadfully afraid of him. It is Betty, Mrs. Graham, who is my friend. If +it is not too much trouble to you and she is not too busy I would like +to have you take me to her now for a little while. Never in my life have +I seen anything so splendid as this reception tonight!" + +When the little French girl talked she was not half so homely and +unattractive, Kenneth Helm decided as he made his way with her through +the crowd. Moreover, he must not turn her into an enemy, for assuredly +Mrs. Graham was her devoted friend and what his wife desired was law +with the Governor. + +Kenneth Helm intended to succeed in life. This was the keynote of his +character. He wanted money and power and meant to do anything necessary +to attain them. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TIES FROM OTHER DAYS + + +ONE morning, a few days later, Mrs. Jack Emmet was ushered into Betty's +personal sitting room. Betty was writing notes and Bettina was curled up +in a big chair near the window with a book of fairy tales in her lap. + +Both of them rose at once, Betty kissing her friend affectionately. But +her little girl, who showed her affection differently from other +children, sitting down by Meg's side, slipped her small hand inside +hers. + +Meg was beautifully dressed in a dark blue broadcloth and black fox furs +with a velvet hat and small black feather curled close against her light +hair. Yet the hat was the least bit awry, one lock of hair had come +uncurled and been blown about by the wind, and a single blue button hung +loose on the stylish coat. Noticing these absurd details for some reason +or other, Betty felt oddly pleased. For they brought back the Meg of +old days, whom not all the strenuous years of Camp Fire training had +been able to make as neat as she should have been, although since her +marriage she seemed to have greatly changed. + +Therefore, in observing these unimportant facts of her friend's costume +Betty failed to catch the difference in her expression. They began their +conversation idly enough in discussing the ball of a few nights before, +the Governor's health and just how busy he was and what people were +saying of him in Concord. For, although Mr. and Mrs. Graham had only +been installed in the Governor's mansion a few weeks, Mr. and Mrs. Jack +Emmet had been living in Concord ever since their marriage about five +years before. + +Nevertheless, if Betty had not observed the change in her friend, in +some unaccountable fashion Bettina had. Not that the little girl +realized that Mrs. Emmet had dark circles under her eyes and that +instead of gazing directly at her mother as she talked, her glance +traveled restlessly about the pretty room. Nor did Bettina know that +Meg's cheeks were not a natural pink, but flushed to uncomfortable +redness; no, she only appreciated that "Aunt Meg," for whom she cared a +great deal, was uneasy and unhappy and would perhaps enjoy having her +keep close beside her. + +"You will stay and take lunch with us, won't you, dear?" Betty urged, +moving forward to assist her visitor in removing her wraps. "You see, we +shall probably be all by ourselves. Anthony is too busy to come home, +Angel is at the office and Faith asked to be left alone for the day. The +child is probably scribbling away on some story she desires to write. +Then after lunch we can see little Tony. The baby is well again, only +the nurse wants him kept quiet." + +Affectionately Betty placed her hands on Meg's shoulders and standing +directly beside her now for the first time looked closely into her face. +To her shocked surprise she discovered that unexpected tears had started +to Meg's eyes. + +At once Betty Graham's happy expression clouded. For she was no less +ready with her sympathy than in former days, and the Camp Fire girls of +the old Sunrise Club seemed almost like real sisters. + +"You came to tell me of something that is troubling you and I didn't +dream of it till this minute!" Betty exclaimed, slipping off Meg's coat +and unpinning her hat without waiting for permission. Then, pushing her +friend down into a big, soft armchair, she took a lower one opposite. + +"Isn't it good fortune that we are living in the same place just as we +used to long ago?" She continued talking, of course, to allow her +companion to gain her self-control. Then she glanced toward Bettina, but +Meg only drew the little girl closer, hiding her face for an instant in +her soft hair. + +"I'm absurd to be so nervous, Betty," Meg whispered apologetically. +"Please don't think there is anything serious the matter. Only--only I +have come to ask you a favor and I don't know exactly how to begin. Of +course, we used to be very intimate friends and all that, but now you +are the Governor's wife, and--and----" + +Before she could finish a somewhat hurt voice interposed. "And--and--I +am Betty Ashton Graham still, very much at your service, Sweet Marjoram, +as Polly once named you. Dear me, Meg, don't be absurd. I can't say I +feel particularly exalted by my position as wife of the new Governor, +though of course I am frightfully vain of Anthony. Besides you know if +there is anything I can do that you would like, I shall be happier than +I can say." With a laugh that still had something serious in it, Betty +put her hand over her friend's. "I still insist that I owe Anthony +partly to you," she ended. + +But this time Meg did not trouble to argue the absurd statement. + +She began talking at once as rapidly as possible, as if glad to get the +subject off her mind. + +"It's about John, I came to talk to you, my brother, John Everett, +Betty," Meg explained. "I don't know whether you have seen much of him +lately, but you were devoted friends once and I thought perhaps for the +sake of the past you might be interested." + +"John Everett? For the sake of the past I might be interested! Whatever +are you talking about?" Betty was now frowning in her effort to +understand and looked absurdly like a girl, with her level brows drawn +near together and her lips pouting slightly. "Why, of course I am +interested. I used to like John better than any of the other beaus we +had, when we were girls, except Anthony. Tell me, is John going to be +married at last? I have wondered why he has waited such a long time. But +I suppose he wanted to be rich first. It has been about two years since +we met by accident in a theater in New York, but I thought he had grown +handsomer than ever." This time Betty's laugh was more teasing than +sympathetic. "I wonder why sisters are so jealous of their big brothers +marrying, Mrs. Jack Emmet? You are married yourself--why begrudge John +the good fortune? I don't believe Nan has ever entirely forgiven me for +capturing Anthony. I am convinced she would have preferred any other of +the Camp Fire girls. There is only one of us, however, whom she would +have really liked, and that is Sylvia. Yet who would ever think of +Doctor Sylvia Wharton's marrying?" + +This time Meg's voice was firmer. "But John isn't going to be married, +Betty. It is quite a different thing I wish to talk to you about. +Instead of John's getting rich on Wall Street, as you think, he has +gotten dreadfully poor. And I am afraid it is not just his own money he +has lost, but father's savings. Now Horace will have to give up his +college and I really don't know what will become of father. He is too +old to begin teaching again since his resignation several years ago." + +Her voice broke, but then her friend's face was so bewildered and so +full of a sudden, ardent sympathy, that it was difficult for Meg to keep +her self-control. However, she said nothing more for a minute, but sat +biting her lips and wondering how to go on to the next thing. + +Fortunately Betty helped her. "I expect John will have to come back home +and take care of your father. Horace is too young and it is more John's +place than your husband's. I am sorry, for I'm afraid things will seem +pretty dull for him here after his gay life in New York." + +All at once Betty's face cleared a little and she leaned back in her +chair. "But you remember, Meg, that when you first spoke you said you +wished me to do you a favor. Is there anything in the world I can do? I +am sure I can scarcely imagine what it is, yet if I can in any way help +you out of this trouble----" + +"You can," Meg whispered shyly; "that is, perhaps not you, but Anthony, +and you are almost the same person." + +In answer to this rather surprising statement Betty Graham merely shook +her head quietly. However, this was scarcely the time to argue whether +or not marriage merged two persons into one or simply made each one +bigger and more individual from association with the other. She wanted +to do whatever was possible to assist Meg and John Everett too in this +trying time in their affairs. Besides, as a little girl she had always +been fond of old Professor Everett, whose life had been given to the +wisdom of books rather than to the living world. But most of all, being +a very natural woman, Betty was now keenly curious to know how she could +possibly be expected to be involved in the present situation and what +she could do to help out. + +"You are right. John does mean to come home, or at least he wishes to +return. He says he is tired of New York and all the fret and hurry and +struggle of life there. But you see, Betty dear," and Meg spoke quickly +now that she had finally come to the point of her story, "there is no +use John's returning unless he has something to do. There is where you +and Anthony can help. I didn't think of this myself, but when my husband +and I were talking things over he said that Anthony and you and I were +such old friends and that the new Governor had so many appointments he +could make to all sorts of good positions. So we thought perhaps you +would ask Anthony to help John. I know Anthony does anything you wish." + +"Oh!" Betty replied somewhat blankly. For never had she been more +surprised than by Meg's request. Of course she knew that Anthony was +making a number of changes in positions held by people whom he thought +unworthy of trust throughout the state. Often he talked about what he +felt he should do, but really it had never dawned upon Betty until this +minute that she or her friends could be in any way concerned. Still, why +not? John was a good business man, Betty thought; he was not dishonest +or dishonorable and the Everetts were her old friends. If Anthony could +help them in their present trouble, surely he would be as glad as she +was to have the opportunity. + +Yet Betty hesitated before answering. However, as she did not wish to +make Meg uncomfortable she slipped from her own chair and put her arm +sympathetically about her friend's shoulders, while she endeavored to +think things quietly over. Finally Betty returned: + +"I can't _exactly_ promise what you first asked, Meg dear. You see, I +have always intended not to interfere in the things that did not seem +altogether my affair. But somehow, since you have asked me and for +John's and your father's sakes, who are such old friends, why I don't +feel as I did before. I tell you, I _will_ ask Anthony this very night, +so let's don't worry any more. Tina darling, run and tell the maids we +would like our luncheon up here. Our dining room is so absurdly big." + +As she talked, as if by magic Betty's expression had changed and again +she was her usual gay, light-hearted self. Of course she and Anthony +together would be able to clear away Meg's troubles. Never before had +she entirely realized how fine it was to have power and influence. + +Moreover, Betty's confidence also inspired Meg, and for the first time +in weeks Mrs. Jack Emmet felt like the Meg Everett of the old days in +Woodford, who used to keep house for her father, kiss her small brother +Horace's (surnamed Bump's) wounds and help and encourage her big brother +John in all his ambitions and desires. + +Just as Meg went away, however, she insisted quite seriously: + +"Betty, I often think that even if our old Camp Fire Club did nothing +more for us than to bind our friendships together in the way it has, it +would be dreadful for all girls not to have the same opportunities in +their lives. Talk of college friendships, surely they are not to be +compared with those of Camp Fire clubs!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +SOMETHING UNEXPECTED + + +DINNER was tiresomely dull! Again Anthony did not return, but telephoned +that he would be in as soon afterwards as possible. Several times during +the meal Betty almost wished that she had accepted an invitation for the +evening without him. For they had been invited to a dinner party and +dance, but as Anthony had declared he would be too busy to attend, Betty +had declined without any objection at the time. She had made up her mind +never to go out into society unless accompanied by her husband. + +Nevertheless, tonight the young wife of the new Governor felt somewhat +differently. If Anthony was going everlastingly to be kept at his office +must she always sit alone during the evenings? Always as Betty Ashton +she had loved people and gayety and still loved it quite as much as +Betty Graham. Moreover, her only two companions at dinner, Angel and +Faith, were both in extremely bad humor and unwilling to confess the +cause, for Faith looked sulky and annoyed and Angel undeniably cross. Of +course, the two girls must recently have had a quarrel. Their hostess +wondered for a few moments what the trouble could have been. But then +they were so utterly different in their dispositions and tastes, it was +not surprising that they sometimes disagreed. Besides, she decided that +they were both unlike the intimate friends of her youth and far harder +to understand. In fact, though she was scarcely much more than a girl +herself, Mrs. Graham concluded that "girls had changed since her day" +and determined as soon as dinner was over to leave them to themselves. +Naturally, if they had wished her society Betty would have been glad +enough to have remained and received their confidences. However, neither +Angel nor Faith showed the slightest sign of desiring her society. + +In a pale blue silk dinner gown Betty wandered disconsolately about her +big house waiting for her husband. He had promised to come home early +and it seemed not worth while to settle down to any task beforehand. +The babies were asleep and she did not feel like writing letters either +to Esther or her mother. Several times she thought of Polly. But Polly +was so far away out West that she really did not know where to find her +at the present time. Betty wondered if her best friend was happy with no +home or husband or children, nothing intimate in her life but her career +as an artist. She had always been puzzled to understand why Polly and +Richard Hunt had never married after an engagement lasting over several +years. But since neither of them had cared to explain their separation, +it was, of course, useless to conjecture again after all this time. + +The drawing room was too hopelessly big and formal! After Betty had +walked around inside it for half an hour perhaps, sitting down in half a +dozen chairs and then pacing up and down, she grew even more restless. +Surely it was no longer early in the evening, and why did Anthony not +keep his word and come home at the time he had promised? It would be +ever so much more satisfactory to have her talk with him in regard to +giving John Everett a good position, with a comfortable salary, early in +the evening, before they were both tired and wanting to sleep. + +Suddenly, with an impatient stamp of her foot, Mrs. Graham fled from her +state apartment. She was homesick tonight for her old home in Woodford, +where she and Anthony had lived ever since their marriage until his +election as Governor, and where her mother still lived. + +Passing through the hall, more and more did Betty become convinced that +Anthony was not keeping his word, for the tall clock registered quarter +to ten. The upper part of the house looked dark and quiet as if the rest +of the family had already gone to bed. Besides it was lonely enough on +the first floor, for the servants had their sitting room and dining room +in a big old-fashioned basement and were nowhere to be seen. Of course, +one of them would come at once if she desired anything, but Betty could +not think of anything she wished at present except society and +amusement. + +In the library back of the drawing room a few moments later she decided +that things were not so bad. There was a little wood fire in the grate, +kept there for its cheerful influence and not because the steam-heated +house required it; but Betty had not been a Camp Fire girl for half her +lifetime without responding to the cheerful influence of even a grate +fire. + +Sinking down into a comfortable chair, she picked up a magazine and +began reading. The clock in the hall ticked on and on and she was not +conscious of the passing of time. The story was not particularly +interesting--an absurd tale of a husband and wife who had quarreled. It +was, of course, perfectly unnecessary for people who loved each other to +quarrel, Betty Graham insisted to herself, and yet the writer did not +seem convinced of this fact. Toward the close of the story she grew more +interested and excited. + +Then, without actually hearing a sound or seeing a figure, Betty +suddenly looked up, and there in the open doorway of the library stood a +strange man. Like a flash her mind worked. She was alone on the first +floor of a big, rambling old house and uncertain of how late the hour. +Must she at once cry for help, or should she try to get across the floor +and ring the bell furiously?--for that would be more certain to be +heard. Yet for the moment her knees felt absurdly weak and her hands +cold. However, with a stupendous effort Betty now summoned her courage, +of which the shock of the moment had robbed her. For her Camp Fire +training had taught her the proper spirit in which to meet emergencies. +Quietly Mrs. Graham rose up from her chair. + +"What is it you wish? I think you have made some mistake," she remarked +stiffly. For in spite of her terror the man in the doorway did not look +like an ordinary thief. Besides, if he were a thief why did he remain +there staring at her? Why had he not committed his burglary and gotten +away with his spoils without alarming her? + +But he was now advancing a few steps toward her and there was no light +in the library, except from the reading lamp. + +"Anthony!" Betty cried instinctively, although she knew that the +Governor could not be in the house at the time, else he would have come +straight to her. + +Then to her immense amazement, almost to her stupefaction, the intruder +actually smiled. + +"Betty," he answered, "or rather Mrs. Graham, have I startled you? Yes, +I know it is dreadfully informal, my coming upon you in this fashion and +not even allowing your butler to announce me. But I ran down from New +York today to spend the night with Meg and Jack Emmet. A few moments ago +we began talking of you. Well, as I've got to go back to town in the +morning I decided that nothing would give me more pleasure than seeing +the wife of our distinguished new Governor, so here I am!" + +Positively the stranger was holding out his hand. + +Moreover, the next instant Betty had laid her cold fingers inside it. + +"John, John Everett, how ridiculous of me not to have recognized you! +Yet, though I was thinking of you, you were the last person in the world +I expected to see at present. And I confess you frightened me." Betty +made her visitor a little curtsey. "Remember how you boys used to try +to terrify us when we were in camp just to prove the superiority of Boy +Scouts over Camp Fire girls? I would not have been frightened then! But +do let us have more light so that we can really see each other." + +Betty touched the electric button and the room was suddenly aglow. + +Then she again faced her companion. It had been foolish of her not to +have recognized her old friend, John Everett. He did look a good deal +older, but he was a large, handsome man with blond hair, blue eyes and a +charming manner. Moreover, he was undoubtedly returning Betty's glance +with undisguised admiration. + +"You won't mind my saying it, will you, Mrs. Graham, but you are more +stunning than ever. I suppose it sounds a little impertinent of me, but +you know even though I always thought you tremendously pretty as a girl, +really I never believed----" John began. + +Betty shook her head reproachfully and yet perhaps she was a little +pleased, even though she recognized her visitor's compliment as +extravagant. + +Motioning to another chair, she then sat down in her former one. For a +few moments there was a kind of constraint in the atmosphere, such as +one often feels in meeting again an old friend with whom one has been +intimate in former years and not seen in a long time. + +Under her lashes Betty found herself studying her visitor's face. At +first she did not think that he appeared much discouraged by his +misfortunes, but the next moment she was not so sure. + +"I am awfully pleased the world has gone so well with you, Mrs. Graham," +John Everett began, to cover the awkwardness of the silence. "You were a +wise girl to have known that Anthony had so much more in him than the +rest of us fellows. I hear he is making things hum in the state of New +Hampshire." + +Betty looked a little shocked. "Oh, I did not care for Anthony because I +thought him cleverer than other people. I--oh, does one ever know +exactly why one cares? But do tell me about yourself, John. You don't +mind my knowing of your present difficulty? Meg has just told me, but I +am sure things will be all right soon again." + +Half an hour later the young Governor, coming in very tired from his +long day's work, seeing the light burning in the library, walked quickly +toward the door. He was worn out and hungry and wanted nothing so much +as supper and quiet talk with his wife. For Anthony had never gotten +over the pleasure he felt at returning home to find her there to receive +him. Already it seemed ages since he had said good-bye at breakfast. + +However, just before he arrived at the open door he heard the sound of +Betty's laughter and some one answering her. + +Of course it was selfish and absurd of him to feel a sudden sense of +disappointment. He knew that he should have been glad to find Betty +entertained. + +Before entering the library the new Governor managed to assume a more +hospitable expression. He was also surprised at finding John Everett +their caller. But then he too had known him in their boyhood days in +Woodford and was glad to see him. Certainly they had never been friends +as boys. The young Governor could still remember that John had then +seemed to have all the things he had wanted as a boy--good looks, good +family, money enough for a college education. Yet with all these +advantages John had not been able to win Betty. Now was Anthony's chance +to feel sorry for him. Lately he too had heard that John Everett was in +some kind of business trouble. He hoped that this was not true. + +Therefore it was Anthony who insisted that their visitor should remain +with them while they had a little supper party in the library. And Betty +was glad to see that her old friend was making a good impression upon +her husband. For she was now firmly determined to ask Anthony to give +John Everett a fine position at once. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE FIRST DISILLUSION + + +"BUT you can't mean, Anthony, that you positively refuse to do what I +ask?" + +It was a little after midnight and Betty and Anthony were up-stairs in +their own apartment. Betty had on a blue dressing gown and her hair was +braided and hung over her shoulders. But her cheeks were flushed, her +gray eyes dark with temper and her voice trembled in spite of her effort +to keep it still. + +Undeniably Anthony appeared both obstinate and worried. Moreover, he was +extremely sleepy and yet somehow Betty must be made to understand before +either of them could rest. Never before had he dreamed that she could be +so unreasonable. + +"I don't think that is exactly a fair way of stating the thing, Betty," +the young Governor answered gently enough. "You see, I have tried to +explain to you, dear, that I can't give positions to friends just as +though running the affairs of the state was my private business. I could +afford to take risks with that if I wished, but you know I promised when +I was elected Governor only to make appointments of the best men I could +find." + +If possible, the Governor's wife looked even more unconvinced. She was +sitting in a big blue chair almost the color of her wrapper, and every +now and then rocked back and forth to express her emotion, or else +tapped the floor mutinously with the toe of her bedroom slipper. + +"You talk as if there was something wrong with John Everett," she +answered argumentatively, "and as if I were asking you to give a +position to a man who was stupid or dishonest. I am perfectly sure John +is none of these things. He has been unfortunate in business lately, of +course, but that might happen to any one. Really, Anthony, would you +mind telling me exactly what you have in your mind against John Everett? +Of course, I remember you never liked him when you were boys, but I +thought you were too big a man----" + +"See here, Betty," the Governor interrupted, "can't we let this subject +drop? I never knew you to be like this before." He had thrown himself +down on a couch, but now reached over and tried to take his wife's +reluctant hand. "I've been explaining to you for the past hour that I +have nothing in the world against John Everett personally, except that +he has no training for the kind of work I need men to do. He has been a +Wall Street broker. Well, that is all right, but what does he know about +prison reform, about building good roads for the state, or anything else +I'm after? Just because he is your friend--our friend, I mean--I can't +thrust him into a good job over the heads of better men. Please look at +this as I do, Betty. I hate desperately to refuse your request and I +know Meg will be hurt with me too and think I'm unfaithful to old times. +Heigh-ho, I wonder if anybody thinks being Governor is a cheerful job? +Good-night, Princess." + +Plainly meaning to end their conversation, Anthony had gotten up from +his sofa. He now stood above Betty, waiting to have her make peace with +him. But Betty looked far from peaceful, more like a spoiled and angry +little girl thwarted in a wish which she had not imagined could be +refused. + +Of course the Princess had always been more or less spoiled all her +life. Her friends in the Camp Fire Club and her family had always +acknowledged this. But she was usually reasonable with the sweetest +possible temper, so that no one really minded. Nevertheless Betty was +not accustomed to having her serious wishes denied, and by her husband +of all people! + +Really she would have liked very much to cry with disappointment and +vexation, except that she was much too proud. Moreover, even now she +could not finally accept the idea that Anthony would not eventually do +as she asked. + +But she drew back coldly from any idea of making friends until then. + +"Good-night," she replied indifferently. "I don't think I shall try to +go to sleep." Her voice trembled now in spite of all her efforts. + +"Really, Anthony, I don't know how I can tell Meg and John that you +have declined to do what I have asked you. I wonder what they will +think? Certainly that I haven't any influence with my own husband! Do +you know, Anthony, perhaps I am wrong, but I thought I had helped you a +little in your election. I've made a good many sacrifices; you have to +leave me alone a greater part of the time because you are too busy to +spend much of your time with me. Well, I have never thought of +complaining, but somehow it does seem to me that I have the right to +have you do just this one thing I ask of you. I'm afraid I don't find +being a Governor's wife so very cheerful either." + +While she was talking Betty had also gotten up and was now standing near +the doorway. As her husband came toward her she moved slowly backward. + +"I say, Betty dear, you are hard on a fellow," Anthony protested. "Of +course I owe my job to you and anything else that is good about me. But +you can't want me to do wrong even for your sake. Maybe you may see +things differently tomorrow." + +However, instead of replying, the Governor's wife slipped outside the +room. In the nursery she lay down by Bettina. But she slept very little +for the rest of the night. + +For in her opinion Anthony had not been fair; he had not even been kind. +A few hours before, when she had assured John and Meg of her sympathy +and aid, she could not have believed this possible. This was the first +time in their married life that her husband had refused her anything of +importance. Surely she had been wrong in suggesting or even thinking for +half a second that his old boyish dislike and jealousy of John Everett +could influence Anthony now! It was an absurd idea, and even a horrid +one; and yet is one ever altogether fair in anger? + +Down-stairs, in spite of his fatigue, Anthony Graham walked up and down +their big room for a quarter of an hour. If he only could have +reconciled it with his conscience to do what Betty asked him, how much +easier and how much more cheerful for both of them! She was right in +saying that he owed something to her. He owed everything. It was not +just that she had helped him since his marriage--most wives do that for +their husbands--but she had helped him from that first hour of their +meeting in the woods so many years before. + +Nevertheless he had given his word to keep his faith as Governor of the +state. He had promised to give no one a position because of pull and +influence. Naturally he had not expected his wife to have any part in +this, but only the politicians and seekers after graft. Yet even with +Betty misunderstanding he must try to keep his word. + +Sighing, the young Governor turned out the lights. He did look too +boyish and delicate for the weight of his responsibilities tonight. For +there had been other troubles in his office which he had wished to +confide to his wife, had she only been willing to listen. However, he +finally fell asleep somewhat comforted. For he was convinced that Betty +was too sensible a woman not finally to see things in the light that he +did. When he had the opportunity and she was neither tired nor vexed +with him he would explain to her all over again. + +An uncomfortable spirit, however, seemed to be brooding over the +Governor's mansion this evening, for in another part of the big house, +there was another argument also lasting far into the night. + +Angel and Faith sat on either side an old-fashioned four-poster bed, +often talking at the same time in the way that only feminine creatures +can. + +In her white cashmere kimono over her gown, with her pale hair unbound, +Faith Barton looked like a little white saint. But alas, and in spite of +her name, the little French girl bore no resemblance to one! + +Angel's dark hair was extraordinarily heavy and curly but not very long, +and now in her uneasiness she had pushed and pulled at it until it was +extremely untidy. Moreover, her black eyes now and then flashed +resentfully at her friend and two bright spots of color burned in her +cheeks. When she was not talking her lips were pressed closely together. + +"Faith, it isn't right of you; you know it isn't. You should not have +made me promise to keep your secret before telling me it. How could I +ever have guessed such a dreadful thing! I simply must, must tell Betty +if you are not going to confide in Mrs. Barton. Then Betty can do what +she thinks best and it will be off my conscience." + +Certainly Angelique Martins was not speaking in an amiable tone, and yet +her companion seemed not in the slightest disturbed. + +Indeed, Faith began quietly brushing her long, straight hair. + +"Don't be a goose, Angel, and don't have so much conscience for other +people. Of course, I am sorry I told you. Kenneth said it would be wiser +not to speak to any one for the present, but I had to have some +confidant. Now you are trying to spoil my first real romance by wanting +me to get up and proclaim it on the housetops. What I like most about +being engaged to Kenneth is that no one knows of it and that we can see +each other without a lot of silly people staring and talking about us. +Of course, when we begin to think about being married I shall tell Rose +everything. Then I know she will understand. But we are not going to be +married for a long, long time, I expect. Kenneth says that nothing would +persuade him to marry me until he could give me everything in the world +I want. Oh, you need not look so superior, Angel; I understand you don't +approve of that sentiment, but I think it is beautiful for a man to feel +that way about a girl. You simply can't appreciate Kenneth." And Faith +looked sufficiently gentle and forgiving to have tried the patience of a +saint. + +"Perhaps not," the other girl answered shortly. "Anyhow, Faith, you are +right in believing I don't approve of the things you have told me. The +idea of your being secretly engaged to a man whom you have only known +about two weeks! It is horrid! Naturally you don't either of you know +whether you are really in love; but then I don't think you ought to be +engaged until you are willing to tell people. Besides, what do you know +about Mr. Helm's real character, Faith? He is the kind of fellow who +makes love to almost every girl he meets." + +Almost under her breath and with her cheeks flaming the little lame +French girl made this last speech. Nevertheless her companion heard +her. Still Faith did not appear angry as most girls would have been +under the circumstances, but perhaps her gentle, pitying expression was +harder to endure. + +"Is that what troubles you, Angel? I am so sorry," Faith returned, +ceasing to brush her hair to smile compassionately at her friend. "You +see, Kenneth warned me that you did not like him very much. He was too +kind to explain exactly the reason, only he said that you seemed to have +misunderstood something about him. I suppose he was kind to you once, +Angel, because of course he would be specially kind to a girl like you. +But, there, you need not look so angry! You have a dreadful temper, +Angel. Even Betty Graham thinks so in spite of being so fond of you." + +With pretended carelessness Faith Barton now glanced away, devoting all +her energy to plaiting her long hair. Really her speech had been more +unkind than she had intended it. But somehow she and Angel were always +having differences of opinion and it seemed to Faith that it was +usually Angel's fault, because she never quarreled with any one else. + +Besides, ever since her first meeting with the little French girl at +Sunrise Cabin she had been the one who had tried to make and keep their +friendship. Angel never seemed to care deeply for any one except her +mother and now Mrs. Graham and her babies, and was always getting into +hot water with other people. + +However, it certainly did not occur to Faith that her own amiability +came partly from a lack of interest in any one except herself and partly +because her own whims were so seldom interfered with. + +Curious that Rose Barton, who had been such a sensible guardian and +friend to her group of Camp Fire girls, had been so indulgent to her +adopted daughter! But very few persons understood Faith Barton. She +seemed to be absolutely gentle and loving and to live always in a world +of beautiful dreams and desires. How could any one guess that she was +often both selfish and self-willed? + +"There is no use talking any more on this subject, Faith, if you think I +wish to interfere because I am jealous of you," Angel declared, and +finding her cane slipped down from the bed. "Besides, you know perfectly +well you are doing wrong without my saying it. Anyhow, I believe that +something will happen to make you sorry enough before you are through." + +With this parting shot Angel marched stiffly out of the room, too proud +to reveal how deeply her friend had wounded her. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A NEW INTEREST + + +IT is a far journey from the New Hampshire hills to the plains of the +West. + +Nevertheless a girl whom we once knew at Sunrise Hill is walking alone +this afternoon on the rim of a desert and facing the western sun. It is +scarcely fair to call her a girl, unless one has the theory that so long +as a woman does not marry she retains her girlhood. Yet glancing at her +as she strolled slowly along, no one could have guessed her to be more +than twenty, though perhaps she was a little nearer the next decade. + +Exquisitely dressed in a long, dark green broadcloth coat with a fur +collar and small hat, she was a little past medium height and unusually +slender. Her hair was so black that it had an almost somber look, and +yet her eyes were vividly blue. Just now, having wandered a good many +miles from the place where she was staying, she looked extremely tired +and depressed. In no possible way did she appear to fit into her present +surroundings, for without a doubt she was a woman of wealth and +distinction. It was self-evident in the clothes she wore, but more so in +the unconsciously proud carriage of her head and in the lines of her +face, which was not beautiful and yet seemed to have some curious charm +more appealing than mere beauty. + +She stopped now for a moment to gaze with an appreciation that was +almost awe at the beauty of the sinking sun. There was a glory of color +in the sky that was almost fantastic; piles of white clouds seemed to +have been flung up against the horizon like mammoth soap bubbles, tinted +with every rainbow shade. With unconscious enthusiasm, the woman clasped +her hands together. + +"Why," she exclaimed aloud, "I was wondering what this scene reminded me +of. It is dear old Sunrise Hill! What would I not give to be there in +the old cabin tonight with Betty and Mollie and the others! But they +must not know what has become of me until things are all right again. +Both Betty and Mollie are too happy with their babies and husbands to +worry over the old maids in the family. Sometimes, though, I feel that I +should like to send for Sylvia." Then the wanderer turned and stared +around her. + +In every direction there were long waving reaches of sand with an +occasional clumping of rocks, while growing near them were strange +varieties of the cactus plant. Some of them had great leaves like +elephants' ears, some were small and thick with queer, stiff hairs and +excrescences, and among them, in spite of the lateness of the season, +were occasional pink and crimson flowers with waxen petals. + +Behind the wayfarer there was a trail which she must have followed from +some nearby village, yet it was growing less and less distinct ahead, +and certainly the hour was far too late for a stranger to be traveling +alone so near a portion of the great Colorado desert. + +Nevertheless the young woman at this moment turned and left her path. +Walking deliberately for a few yards she seated herself on a giant +rock, and leaning forward, rested her chin in her beautifully gloved +hands. + +"So like you, Polly O'Neill, even in your old age to have gotten +yourself entirely used up on the first walk you were allowed to take +alone!" she began aloud, giving a half despairing, half amused shrug of +her thin shoulders. "I am not in the least sure that I know the way back +to my hotel if it grows dark before I arrive there, and assuredly I am +too weary to start for the present. And hungry! Heaven only knows when I +was ever so ravenous! Now if I had only been a Camp Fire girl in the +West instead of the East, doubtless I could at once discover all sorts +of delectable bread fruit and berries growing nearby. But I don't feel I +want to run any further risks at present." + +So for the next half hour in almost perfect quiet Polly O'Neill remained +seated. It would have been impossible for her to have done otherwise, +for suddenly a curious attack of exhaustion had swept over her. It was +not unusual of late, for indeed Miss O'Neill and her maid had +established themselves in a small hotel near Colorado Springs in order +that the well-known actress might recover from an attack of nervous +exhaustion which she had suffered during her successful tour in the +Western states. So Polly was quite accustomed to finding herself all at +once too weary either to move or speak. But quite like the Polly of old +she had just deliberately walked five miles without reflecting on her +lack of strength or the fact that she must return by as long a road as +she had come. + +No, in spite of the fact that Polly O'Neill had in the last ten years +made a great name for herself as one of the leading actresses in the +United States, she was as thoughtless and impetuous as she had been as a +girl. + +Finally, however, with what seemed to require a good deal of effort she +got up and moved, this time toward the east, but all the elasticity had +gone from her. The sand was uncomfortably heavy, so that she dragged one +foot after the other and her slender body seemed to wave like a stalk in +the wind. But the worst of her difficulty was that her breath came in +short, painful gasps. Unconsciously the effort which the business of +walking required made Polly pay less strict attention to the path which +she should have followed. But by and by, realizing that her way was less +plain and that it was now quite dusk, she paused for a moment, put her +hand to her side and then again seemed to be considering her situation. +Whatever her decision, she must have accepted it philosophically, for +this time, more deliberately, she sought another resting place. +Fortunately not far away was a better shelter of rocks, half a dozen of +them forming a kind of semicircular cave. Deliberately Polly crept +toward their shelter and there removed her hat and tied her hair up in a +long automobile veil. Then she lay down in the sand with the stones as a +shield behind her and before her a wonderful view of the night as it +stole softly over the desert. + +Polly was not afraid and not even seriously annoyed. Life to her was but +a series of adventures, some of them good and others less cheerful. She +was not at all sure that she was not going to enjoy this one and she +could not believe that it would do her any especial harm. She was +sleeping outdoors for the benefit of her health in a small porch +attached to her hotel bedroom. Perhaps the sand was less comfortable and +clean than her bed, but then she had never before imagined so much sky +and prairie. Moreover, there was no one to worry over her failure to +appear except Marie, her maid. It was just possible that Marie might +arouse the hotel and a searching party be sent to find her. In that case +Polly knew that she would be glad to return to civilization. However, +she did not intend to worry if no one came. Her hunger and thirst must +be forgotten until morning. + +Somehow, when the stars came out, in spite of the beauty of the night +Polly found she could not manage to keep her eyes open. She was not +exactly sleepy, only tired. For never in years had she had such an +opportunity to think things over. How crowded her life had been, how +full of hard work, of failure and success, yes, and loneliness! She was +willing to confess it tonight to herself. How she would have liked to +have had one of her old Camp Fire friends here in Colorado with her! Yet +they were all too busy and she had not wished any one of her family to +know how ill she had been. How much trouble she had always given all the +people who cared for her ever since she could remember! Polly's +conscience pricked her sharply. Why had she not married and settled down +as her sister Mollie had suggested at least a hundred times? Because she +would not give up her acting? Well, she need not have done this had she +married Richard Hunt. But too many years had passed since their +engagement had been broken for her to recall him. She had not even seen +Mr. Hunt in the past five years, although they had occasionally acted in +the same cities and at the same time. + +Finally, however, when the famous Miss O'Neill actually fell asleep she +was smiling faintly. For a vision had suddenly come to her of how +shocked her sister Mollie and her brother-in-law, Mr. William Webster, +would be if they knew that she was sleeping alone on the edge of a +desert. But she was surely too near the village to be in any danger from +wild animals and no one would undertake such a walk as hers had been at +this hour. + +Nevertheless, wisdom should have prompted an old Camp Fire girl to have +found twigs enough to have started even a miniature camp fire. But the +edge of a desert is scarcely the place where wood abounds and the fact +is, though she had thought of it, Polly had been too tired to make the +necessary effort. For goodness only knows how much farther she need have +wandered before coming to an oasis of shrubbery or trees. + +When at last Miss O'Neill opened her eyes actually it was broad daylight +and standing before her was a figure that almost fitted into her dream. +For the girl was just about the age of the group of friends who had once +lived together in a log house in the woods, and all night she had been +dreaming of Sunrise Cabin. + +Nevertheless her visitor bore no other resemblance to them, so that the +distinguished lady rubbed her eyes, wondering if she were yet awake and +how the girl could have come so close up to her without her hearing. + +A glance explained this, for the intruder was barefooted and her legs +and feet were so brown and hard they appeared totally unfamiliar with +shoes and stockings. + +She was staring so hard at Polly that she seemed scarcely conscious of +anything except her own surprise. + +With an effort Miss O'Neill sat upright. She did not feel tired now in +the least, but gloriously rested and strengthened from her wonderful +night out of doors in the clear, pure air. But of course she must +explain her situation to the little girl before her, although she would +have preferred her discoverer to have explained herself. + +In spite of being about fourteen years old, this child had on only a +thin yellow calico frock, and it was late October. Her hair was +perfectly straight and Polly might have thought her an Indian except +that it was light brown in color, although a good deal stained by wind +and sun. However, the girl's eyes were a kind of greenish gray in shade +and her features were delicately modeled. But she had a peculiar and +not an agreeable expression. + +"I wandered away from my hotel last evening and was not able to return, +so I slept here all night. How did you happen to find me?" Polly began, +feeling that some one must start a conversation in order to persuade her +companion to cease her almost frightened staring. Of course Polly +appreciated that she herself was not looking her best, but there was no +reason why she should excite so much curiosity. + +Notwithstanding she received no answer. With a slight gesture of +annoyance Miss O'Neill stood up. After all, she did not feel as +energetic as she had thought and it was undoubtedly a long walk back to +her hotel. + +"Do you live anywhere near here? I am both hungry and thirsty. If you +could find some one to help me I should be most grateful," Polly said as +politely as if she had been speaking to a friend. For if the girl was +afraid of her she wished her to forget her timidity. + +But instead of replying the strange child stared harder than ever for +half a minute, and then before Polly could speak again or touch her she +was off, running across the sand like a deer, without a backward glance. + +Miss O'Neill watched her for some time until she vanished into what +appeared at this distance to be a clump of trees. Then she deliberately +set out to follow her. The child must have come from some place nearer +than the village where she was staying. In almost any kind of settlement +she would be able to find a horse to take her back to her hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +"BOBBIN" + + +ALL her life Polly O'Neill had felt a curious shrinking from physical +cruelty, and growing older had not made the least change in her feeling. +She had never talked about it, but had always been fearful that at heart +she was a coward. The Camp Fire girls used to laugh at her because, of +course, she had learned to do all of the things that their rules +required without feeling any possible nervousness. But then no one of +them understood what physical cruelty might mean and possibly might +never see an exhibition of it. + +Yet nothing was farther from her own mind at the present moment than +this fear. She had come in about fifteen minutes' walk to a clump of +cottonwood trees by a small stream of water, and there in their midst +stood a crude two-room shanty with a bare space of ground in front of it +and a lean dog sitting in a patch of sunshine. + +But the sight that froze Polly's blood and made her stand suddenly so +still that she might have been a wooden image was the figure of a man +with a long whip in his hand, such as one might have used in driving +cattle. And this whip was now whirling and stinging through the air and +twisting itself about the body of the little girl who had been the first +vision that Miss O'Neill's eyes had rested upon on waking that morning. + +But the strangest thing of all was that the child was making no outcry +and showing no effort to run away. Indeed, she stood perfectly still, +hugging half a loaf of bread in her arms. + +Polly made an inarticulate sound which she thought was a loud cry: +"Stop!" But the man had not seen her approach and was too occupied with +his hateful task to hear her, and to her intense shame she felt all at +once desperately afraid of him. She was so far from any one she knew, +she had so little physical strength and this man was so much more brutal +than any one she had ever seen before in her life. Perhaps he would +cease hurting the child this instant. + +Then, without in the least knowing when nor how she had accomplished it, +Polly rushed forward and seizing the man's thick wrist in her own +slender fingers, clung to him desperately, while the thong of the whip +curled and fell in a limp fashion about her own shoulders. + +Too surprised to speak, the man took a step or two backward. In the +course of her stage career Polly had acted a number of tragedy queens; +and notwithstanding her slightly rumpled appearance at this moment, she +had never looked the part better than now. Her thin figure was drawn up +to its fullest height, her Irish blue eyes flashed Celtic lightnings. +She even stamped her foot imperiously. + +"You beast!" she exclaimed. "What do you mean by striking a little girl +in that cruel fashion? I'll have you arrested! I don't care in the least +if you are her father or what she has done, you have no possible right +to be so brutal." + +The man had dropped his whip to the ground and Polly now stooped and +picked it up. It was absurd of her ever to have dreamed she could have +been frightened by mere brute strength. The man was a good deal more +afraid of her for the instant. The sudden apparition of a fashionably +dressed young woman, appearing out of nowhere and springing upon him in +such a surprising fashion, had destroyed his nerve. + +"I wasn't doin' nawthin I hadn't a right ter," he growled. "That young +'un is allers stealin' somethin'. I caught her red-handed running off +with that there loaf of bread." + +For the first time since her arrival on the scene Polly O'Neill turned +toward the girl. She was still staring at her with almost the same +expression she had worn earlier in the day. But somehow something in her +look touched Polly, brought her sudden inspiration. + +"Why," she exclaimed with a break in her voice, "I believe she was +bringing the bread to me. I told her I was hungry just a little while +ago." + +There was no one in the world who could be sweeter or simpler than Polly +O'Neill when her feelings were deeply touched. This had always been +true, even as a young girl, and of course, as she had grown into a +famous woman, her charm had deepened. Now she put her arms about her +new friend's shoulders. "You were going to give the bread to me, I'm +sure. Thank you." Oblivious of the fact that the little girl's dress was +exceedingly dirty and that her face was far from clean, Polly leaned +over and kissed her. + +Then she turned to the man. "If you will get a horse and drive me to my +hotel I will pay you well for it," she explained. + +In reply the man nodded and moved away, so that Polly was once more left +alone with the girl. + +It suddenly occurred to her that the child had never spoken since their +meeting. Could she possibly be deaf and dumb? That might explain her +strange expression. + +"What is your name?" Polly asked gently. + +Still the girl stared. Miss O'Neill repeated her question. + +Then the girl, picking up a stick from the ground, slowly and +laboriously printed in big letters, such as a child of six might have +made, the word "Bobbin." + +"Bobbin?" Polly repeated the name aloud as she read it. What an +extraordinary title! One could scarcely call it a name. + +"Is that the only name you have?" she inquired again, wondering at the +same time how it was possible for the little girl to understand what she +said without being able to reply. But Bobbin bowed her head, showing +that she had understood. In some fashion she must have learned the lip +language. Yet it was curious why if the girl had ever been sent to +school she had learned nothing else. She appeared the veriest little +savage that ever lived so close to wealth and civilization. + +Polly sought in her mind to find out what she could do or say to show +her gratitude. She had a sudden feeling that she could not turn her back +upon the girl and leave her to her wretched fate, and yet of course the +child had no claim upon her. It was something in the expression of +Bobbin's eyes that seemed to haunt one. + +With a slight, unnoticeable shrug of her shoulders, as though giving up +the problem as too much for her, Polly now slipped her hand into her +pocket, drawing out her purse bag. Opening it she found a large silver +dollar, such as one uses in the West. + +"Won't you buy yourself something from me?" she asked, trying to speak +as distinctly as possible. She had not observed that in taking out the +money she had carelessly dropped a handkerchief from her bag. + +With a fleeting expression of pleasure the girl accepted the gift, but +the next instant, when Polly turned to watch the man who was now +approaching her with a lean horse hitched to a cart, she swooped down +toward the ground and picking up the crumpled white object thrust it +secretively inside her dress. + +Five minutes after, when Polly and the man had started for Colorado +Springs, Bobbin remained in the same position, watching them until they +were out of sight. Then she began eating the neglected bread. + +Upon arriving safely at her hotel, Miss O'Neill discovered that the news +of her disappearance had been spread abroad by her frightened maid, and +that a thorough search was being made for her. For although Polly had +been trying to live as quietly as possible in a small, obscure hotel, +the fact of her visit was well known to hundreds of people. You see, at +this time in her life not only was her name celebrated from one part of +the country to the other, but her face was equally familiar. + +Through her maid, Marie, Polly was told that a gentleman, whose name she +had not learned, had been particularly kind and interested in seeking to +find her. So as soon as she rested she had every intention of inquiring +his name and thanking him personally. But by late afternoon, when she +finally dressed, this was impossible. Evidently the man did not wish to +be annoyed by her thanks, for the message brought her was that on +hearing of her safety he had suddenly left the village. + +However, Polly was able to acquire some actual information about the +girl she had seen earlier in the day, for "Bobbin" was apparently a +well-known character in the famous Western resort. She was a little +stray daughter of the place. Years before, the mother had come to +Colorado from some city in the South and had died. Afterwards no one had +ever claimed the child. + +So the town had taken care of her, sent her to school and tried to +teach her to talk. She was perhaps not entirely deaf, although no one +exactly understood her case. But the girl was a hopeless little rebel. +In no place would she stay unless kept there by iron bars. She seemed to +have an unconquerable desire to be always out of doors, and in the +brilliant Colorado climate this was nearly always possible. Recently she +had been living with some gypsy people, who had established themselves +in a temporary shanty at some little distance from the roads usually +followed by sightseers. So Miss O'Neill had certainly wandered from the +beaten track. Nevertheless she need not make herself unnecessarily +unhappy over "Bobbin," for the girl would again be brought back to +school as soon as she could be captured. + +Yes, her name had been Roberta, an old-fashioned Southern name, and then +in some way it had been shortened to Bobbie and now Bobbin. The child +had a last name, of course, but the woman who told the story to Miss +O'Neill had either never heard the mother's name or else had completely +forgotten it. + +Late that night in reflecting over her adventure Polly wished that she +and Betty Graham could have changed places for a week or so. For Betty +would certainly do something for the unfortunate Bobbin to make life +happier for her, as she had a kind of genius for looking after people. +Her Camp Fire training had taught her a beautiful sympathy and +understanding. But Betty must have been made that way in the beginning, +Polly concluded with a sigh and a smile. She had no such gift herself. +The girl's story, fragmentary as it was, interested her, but there could +be no possible point in undertaking to interfere with the child's +future. + +Nevertheless, try as she might, all night it was impossible for the +famous actress to get the half tragic, half stupid figure of Bobbin out +of her vision. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BACK IN NEW HAMPSHIRE + + +BETTY was driving alone through one of the less crowded parts of +Concord. She had been into the country and was now on her way home +again. Not very often did she go out alone, but she had not felt in a +mood for company and had purposely gotten away by herself. + +A week had passed since her midnight talk with Anthony and there was +still a coldness between them. Each day Betty had expected her husband +to declare that he had changed his mind in regard to finding a position +for John Everett and would do as she asked. Yet so far he had not even +referred to the subject. + +On her way home Betty considered that she had better stop and tell Meg +how she had failed in influence with her husband, notwithstanding she +could not decide just what she should do or say. Meg would not +understand and might believe that she had made no real effort for +John's sake. Yet she could not be such a coward as to leave her old +friends in suspense. Since Anthony would do nothing to help, it was +better that John Everett should know, so that he might find another +occupation. + +They were passing through a quiet street shaded by magnificent old maple +trees that were now bare except for a few clustering brown leaves, when +Mrs. Graham leaned over to speak to her coachman and the man drew in his +horses. The next moment her attention was attracted by seeing some one +on the sidewalk pause and lift his hat to her. Betty had returned the +bow before she actually recognized John Everett. Then he took two or +three steps forward and held out his hand. + +"I was just going to see Meg," Betty explained, blushing and wishing +that she could escape the confession that lay before her. If John should +question her now she felt she might have a sudden panic of +embarrassment. Of course she could think up some excuse for Anthony's +unkindness; she might even offer the same excuse he had made to her. Yet +the fact that he had declined to do what she so much desired would +remain the same. + +But John Everett was smiling in the most ordinary fashion. + +"I wonder, Mrs. Graham, if you will not let me ride along with you, if +you are going to Meg's. I am on the way home myself." + +Then in a short while Betty had forgotten her worry and was having the +same agreeable talk of old times that she had enjoyed the week before. +Moreover, it was John Everett who relieved her from her chagrin. + +"By the way," he began, just as they were about to arrive at Mrs. Jack +Emmet's house, "please don't worry, Mrs. Graham, or Betty, if I may call +you by the old name, about asking your husband to fix me up with a +position in his office. I know the new Governor is being overwhelmed +with office seekers. I have been lucky enough to secure something to do +with my brother-in-law, Jack Emmet, and ex-Governor Peyton. They have a +new business scheme on hand in which they think I may be useful." + +Of course, Betty could not utter her thanksgiving aloud, although she +repeated it very fervently to herself. So, after all, she need not +confess to other people Anthony's lack of consideration. It was enough +that she should be carrying the hurt feeling about inside her own heart. +Instead, she merely murmured something or other that was not clear, +about the Governor's having been so very busy recently and having some +special annoyance in his affairs. She was by no means certain of just +what she said at the moment nor how she explained the situation, but +fortunately John Everett did not appear to be particularly interested in +the subject. + +Meg was not at home when they arrived, but instead of saying good-bye, +John suggested that he should drive back to her own home with Betty. It +had been years since they had seen each other, except the other evening, +and there was so much to talk about. + +Then John explained that he had taken a small house in Concord and that +his father was soon coming to live with him. Bumps would continue with +his course at Cornell for this winter anyhow. So, after all, there were +uses in this world even for old bachelors, he ended smilingly. + +It was Betty, however, who suggested that they should go and see this +house, although John told her it was a good deal out of her way. Yet it +was a beautiful warm November afternoon and would not be dark for +another hour. Somehow Betty did not feel that she wanted to go home at +once. Faith had gone for a walk with Kenneth Helm, Angel had a half +holiday and was spending the afternoon with the children. She and +Bettina had a wonderful secret game that they played together in a room +by themselves, where no one else had ever been allowed to come. There +was no prospect of Anthony's returning home for some time, so the +Governor's splendid mansion would seem big and empty to the Governor's +wife for an hour or so more at any rate. + +There was a caretaker in the little white house with green shutters, who +was anxious to show Mrs. Graham and Mr. Everett every detail of it. The +house was to be let furnished and yet it seemed to have been peculiarly +fitted for old Professor Everett's needs. It was pleasant for Betty to +imagine the sweet-tempered, learned old man here with John and near his +daughter Meg. He had been living alone in Woodford ever since his +younger son, Horace, departed for college. Somehow Betty felt that it +would be pleasant for her also to have the old gentleman living so near +by. He had been a devoted friend of Mr. Ashton's, whom she had certainly +loved even more than an own father. + +"I shall be running in here very often to see Professor Everett and tell +him the things that trouble me, just as Meg and I used to do when we +were little girls," Betty remarked to her companion. "He was the one +person who never by any possible chance believed that Meg or I could +ever be in fault." + +"I'm sure he will always be overjoyed to see you," John Everett replied. +"Only it is a little difficult for me to imagine Mrs. Anthony Graham +ever having anything to trouble her." + +As the November evenings grew dark so soon, it was almost dusk when +Betty at length entered her own home after saying good-bye to her +friend, who had insisted on walking back to his sister's house instead +of allowing the coachman to drive him. + +Going into her private sitting room, Betty was surprised to find that +Anthony had come home and was sitting there pretending to read. But most +undeniably he looked cross. + +"I thought we were going to have a drive and tea together, Betty," he +remarked reproachfully. "Where in the world have you been? No one seemed +to know. I should think you would leave word where you are going, so +that if anything happened to the children or to me the servants would +know where to find you." + +Actually Anthony was reproaching her in a perfectly unreasonable +fashion! Betty could hardly believe her ears, it was so unlike him. Was +he going to turn into the dictatorial type of husband after all these +years of married life when he had been so altogether different? + +Usually Betty's temper was gracious and sweet. Possibly if Anthony had +approached her in his usual fashion at this moment they might have +gotten over the feeling of estrangement that had come between them for +the first time since their wedding. Moreover, the room was not brightly +lighted, so that Betty did not notice how tired and worried Anthony +looked. Of course, fatigue and worry explain almost any temporary +unreasonableness on the part of human beings. + +Quite casually Betty began to draw off her long gray suede gloves. She +wore a beautiful gray coat and skirt and chinchilla furs and a hat with +a single blue feather. + +"Don't talk as if we lived in England and you were a kind of domestic +tyrant, please, Anthony," she said lightly. "I am sorry, but I had no +possible way of knowing that you were coming home from your office so +much earlier than usual. You should have had some one telephone me. I +have been having a very agreeable drive with John Everett. And, by the +way, it was not worth while for me to have annoyed you by asking you to +do me the favor of giving John something to do. He tells me he is going +into business with Jack Emmet and ex-Governor Peyton." Then as she moved +toward her own bedroom Betty was surprised and annoyed by another +speech from her husband. + +"I don't like the combination very well," he remarked quietly. "Neither +Emmet nor Peyton have very good business reputations. They are going to +try and get a shaky bill through the Legislature in the next month or +so, I hear. But I suppose Everett knows his own affairs best." + +As Betty had now disappeared, she did not hear Anthony's closing speech. + +"I am sorry to have talked like a bear, dear. Won't you forgive me and +let us be friends? I wish I could have fixed up things for Everett for +your sake, but I could not feel that I had the right." + +Moreover, the young Governor's back was unfortunately turned, so he did +not appreciate that Betty had not heard him. He was under the impression +that she had simply refused to pay any attention to his apology. + +Well, he was too tired to discuss the matter any further for the +present. He had several important decisions that must be made before +morning and he and Betty and Faith and Kenneth Helm were to go to some +big reception later in the evening. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +LONELINESS + + +NEVER in her entire career had Polly O'Neill felt more depressed. She +was, of course, accustomed to a very busy life filled with people and +excitement. Nothing else is possible to an actor or actress, although +Miss O'Neill had tried to keep her private life as quiet as possible. + +But here in her little hotel about a mile or more from the celebrated +Colorado Springs she was finding existence duller than she had bargained +for. In the first place, on her arrival she had let it be known that she +desired no callers or acquaintances. Her reason for giving up her work +at the present time was that she was greatly in need of a rest cure, so +visitors to the Springs had taken her at her word and Miss O'Neill had +been left to recover her health unmolested. Now and then some unknown +admirer had appeared at her hotel or sent books and flowers. +Nevertheless, she had so far made no acquaintances. + +However, after several weeks of the wonderful, brilliant air, with +nothing to do except sleep and write an occasional letter, Polly felt a +good deal stronger. Yet she did not feel that she was well enough to +return to Woodford, and today the news from home had been depressing. + +You see, Mollie had never been told that her sister was ill and +considered that if she only required rest it might as well be enjoyed at +her own lovely big farm as among strangers in the West. So this morning +her letter had urged Polly's return home and had also imparted a great +variety of dispiriting reasons. In the first place, Mollie told at great +length that Dan, who was Polly's favorite of her sister's children, was +not in good health and that he was showing certain oddities of +disposition which struck his aunt as very like her own. Indeed, she +believed that neither her sister nor brother-in-law understood the +delicate, difficult little fellow, and she would have liked to have been +near enough to have helped him through a trying time. Then more +disquieting had been Mollie's information about their mother, Mrs. +Wharton, who was beginning to show her age. Moreover, Mr. Wharton seemed +somewhat depressed over his business affairs. Then finally the most +mystifying and in a way disturbing of Mollie's statements had been her +account of Betty Graham. + +For several weeks there had been no line to Polly from her dearest +friend, which in itself had made Polly vaguely uneasy. It was so unlike +Betty ever to fail in her weekly letter which had always followed her +friend to whatever part of the world she happened to be. But now Mollie +announced that Betty had been on a visit to her mother, Mrs. Ashton, in +Woodford, and that she had seemed entirely unlike herself. Instead of +having a great deal to say she had been strangely quiet, almost sad. + +Moreover, the new Governor's enemies were said to be making a tremendous +effort to destroy his reputation and there was a great deal of talk +going on about some matter which Mollie did not claim to understand. +Possibly Anthony's annoyances may have been worrying his wife. + +Polly had been sitting alone on her small, private veranda which +commanded a wonderful view of a rim of hills, when her sister's letter +had been given her along with her other mail. + +Before glancing at the other communications she had eagerly opened this. +But now she sat with the pages fluttering in her lap and her eyes filled +with tears. + +Naturally Mollie had not intended to be so depressing; people seldom do +seem to realize just what effects their letters may produce. Often they +write merely to relieve their own feelings and once having put down all +the gloomy possibilities that worry them at the time, rise up and go +cheerfully about their business with the evils forgotten. + +So naturally it remains for the unfortunate recipient of the letter to +become even more depressed than the writer had been. + +Moreover, Polly really wanted desperately to go home. It had been many +months since she had seen her own people, and though they often +believed her to have less affection than other women, it was not in the +least true. She had given up many things for her art and had sometimes +seemed selfish and cold-blooded. But it wasn't fair that her sister, +Mollie, always seemed to think that she had never desired a home of her +own, babies and some one to care for her supremely, that she had never +grown tired of the wandering life her stage career forced her to lead. + +Finally, however, Polly managed to smile and give a characteristic shrug +over her own self-pity. There was nothing in the world so silly. Like +the rest of us she knew this to be true, yet, like the rest of us, now +and then even this famous, grown-up woman, who had most of the things +that people would give worlds to possess, indulged in attacks of being +sorry for herself. Moreover, the day before she had sent for her doctor +and he had positively refused to consider her leaving Colorado for the +present. + +You may remember that Polly had a certain inherited delicacy that used +to keep her mother uneasy, and lately it had troubled her. It was this +fact she had concealed from her family and friends, so that now, though +she was better, her physician had scouted the idea of a return East. +Once near New York he was sure she would begin to talk business with her +theatrical manager, or even undertake to study a new play. + +No, she must undoubtedly remain at her post a while longer. And yet was +it really necessary to have her post quite so lonely? + +Just as this idea occurred to her, a slight noise attracting her +attention, Polly glanced down into the garden below her veranda. + +There stood Bobbin and the next moment she had flung a poor little +bouquet at her feet. It was a strange offering, all prickly cactus +leaves with a single white flower in their midst. For some absurd reason +it flashed through Polly's mind to wonder if her offering could be in +any way symbolic of the girl who had given it her. Could there be +something beautiful hidden within the child's peculiarities? + +For this was not the first token of affection that Bobbin had presented. +Indeed, many queer, small gifts had been brought to the strange lady +since their first meeting, so that Polly had been curiously touched. For +of course Bobbin's offerings came straight from her heart. In her +pathetic, shut-in world she had no way of knowing anything of the +history of the woman whom she so plainly admired. + +Yet inside Polly O'Neill's sitting room at this moment there were four +or five tokens of affection that must have come from her. They were too +extraordinary for any one else to have sent them and had been laid at +her shrine in too unusual a way. For most of them had been literally +flung on her veranda. A few of them, when she happened to be sitting +outdoors as she was doing at the present moment, and the others when no +one had seen or known of their appearance. + +One of the gifts was a beautiful blue feather that must have fallen from +some unusual bird flying over the western lands, another a stone that +shone like the finest crystal, in the sun, and a third a horseshoe some +small broncho must have shed in trotting across the plains. + +However, never once had Polly been able to thank her new friend for her +gifts. For always at the slightest movement on her part Bobbin had +turned and run away more fleetly than any one else could. For since Miss +O'Neill's report that she had found the girl living with such rough +people Bobbin had been recaptured and brought back to the village to +school. Notwithstanding, she had once more escaped and now either no one +knew just where she had gone or else no one had taken the trouble to +capture her a second time. + +It occurred to Polly at this moment that she would like to try and +influence the girl, or at any rate show her gratitude. Besides, anything +would be better than spending the rest of the day bewailing her own +loneliness. Moreover, it would do her good for a moment to compare her +own loneliness with Bobbin's! + +Without a movement or a sign to the girl to betray that she had even +caught sight of her, Polly at once slipped into her bedroom and put on +her coat and hat. And she was down in her yard and had stretched out her +hand to touch her visitor before the girl became aware of her. + +Yet the very next instant Bobbin started and began running as swiftly as +she had at their first meeting. And this time, even more impetuously and +with less reason, Miss O'Neill pursued her. + +It was ridiculous of Polly and utterly undignified and unbecoming. No +other person in the world in her position would have done such a thing. +Yet she had no more thought of its oddity and the attention that she +might create than if she had been a Camp Fire girl in the New Hampshire +woods nearly fifteen years before. + +Of course the woman could not run half so fast as Bobbin in these days, +but it was only because she was not well, Polly said to herself angrily. +She had been the swiftest runner of all the girls for short distances in +their old Sunrise Hill Club. Of course Sylvia had used to get the better +of her in long distance tests. Still, even now she was managing to keep +Bobbin in sight, although she had a horrid stitch in her side and was +already out of breath. + +Fortunately, however, for Miss Polly O'Neill's reputation she was not +at the present time within the fashionable precincts of Colorado +Springs, else she might possibly have been thought to have gone suddenly +mad. Her hotel was some distance out in the country and there were but +few houses in its neighborhood. Moreover, Bobbin was running away from +the town and not toward it. + +The road was a level, hard one, but all at once Polly felt a queer pain +that took her breath completely away and then a sudden darkness. + +She did not fall, however, because some one who was walking in the +direction of her hotel reached her just in time. + +Then to her amazement Polly heard an exclamation that had in some +unexplainable way a familiar note in it. The next moment when +straightening up and opening her eyes she seemed to be reposing in the +arms of a tall man with dark eyes and gray hair, whom she had once known +extremely well, but had not seen in the past five years. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A MEETING AND AN EXPLANATION + + +"I--I was running," explained Miss O'Neill as soon as she had sufficient +breath to speak. + +Which was such an absurdly unnecessary statement of an apparent fact +that her rescuer smiled against his will. + +He was not pleased at this meeting with Miss Polly O'Neill. It was true +that he had been walking out to her hotel to make inquiries concerning +her health, but he had no thought or desire to see her. Indeed, deep +down in his heart he believed that few women had ever treated a man much +worse than she had treated him and he had never even tried to forgive +her. For several years they had been engaged to be married, only +postponing the wedding because of Polly's youth and because she wanted +to go on with her acting for a few years longer without interruption. +Then when Richard Hunt had insisted that he was not young and could not +wait forever, with characteristic coolness Polly had broken her +engagement. She had written him of her change of mind and heart and he +had accepted her letter as final. Never once since had they met face to +face until this minute. + +Yet now Richard Hunt found himself holding the same young woman in his +arms, rather against his will, of course, but not knowing what else to +do with her since she scarcely looked strong enough to stand alone. + +"I think I would like to sit down for a moment," Polly volunteered +finally and managed to cross over to the opposite side of the road, +where she established herself very comfortably on a carefully cultivated +mound of grass. + +Her rescuer stood over her. "May I do anything for you, Miss O'Neill?" +he inquired formally. "I think it might be well for me to find your +maid." + +He was about to move off when Polly with her usual lack of dignity +fairly clutched the back of his overcoat. + +"Oh, please don't go, Mr. Hunt--Richard," she ended after a slight +hesitation. "Really, I don't understand why you have treated me so +unkindly all these years. I don't see the least reason why we should not +have continued to be friends. Still, you were going to my hotel to call +on me. There isn't any other possible reason why you were marching out +this particular road, which does not lead anywhere else." And at this +Miss O'Neill smiled with open and annoying satisfaction. + +"I hadn't the faintest idea of asking to see you," Richard Hunt +announced firmly, although a little surprised by Polly's friendly +manner. If they had been parted for a matter of five weeks instead of +five years, and if the cause of their separation had been only some +slight disagreement rather than something affecting their whole lives, +she could not have appeared more nonchalant and at the same time more +cordial. But then there never had been any way of accounting for Polly +O'Neill's actions and probably never would be. However, Richard Hunt had +no desire again to subject himself to her moods. He wished very much to +walk on, and yet he could not make up his mind to remove her hand +forcibly from his coat. Moreover, she looked too pale and exhausted to +be left alone. Yet this had always been a well-known method by which +Polly had succeeded in gaining her own point, he remembered. + +"Then what were you going to my hotel for? Didn't you even know I was +staying there?" she demanded, finding breath enough to ask questions, in +spite of her exhaustion of a few moments before. + +If only he had been a less truthful man! For a moment Richard Hunt +contemplated making up some entirely fanciful story, then he put the +temptation aside. + +Notwithstanding, his manner and answer were far more crushing to Miss +Polly O'Neill than if he had told her a lie which she would probably +have seen through at once. + +Always he had commanded more respect from her than any man she had ever +known in her life, which was secretly mingled with a little wholesome +awe. Polly had always put it down to the fact that he was so much older +than she was. But she had had other acquaintances among older men. + +"You misunderstood me, Miss O'Neill, when I said that I was coming to +your hotel without any intention of seeing you. That was true, but I was +coming with the idea of inquiring how you were. You see, I also have +been staying in this part of the country, and not long ago I read in one +of the papers that you were here and seriously ill. Afterwards I learned +that you were alone. Your family and friends have always been so kind to +me that it appeared to me my duty to find out your true condition. I of +course guessed that you had not told them the truth." + +Richard Hunt gazed severely down at the crumpled young woman at his +feet, ending his speech as cruelly as possible. + +"Well, I like that!" Polly returned weakly, falling into slang with +entire unconsciousness. "Here I have been suffering perfect agonies of +loneliness and crying my eyes out every day because I so wanted mother +and Mollie and Betty to come to me. And I only did not let them know I +was ill, to keep them from worrying. Yet you make it sound just as if I +were keeping my tiresome old breakdown a secret from the pure love of +fibbing inherent in my wicked nature. I do think you are--mean!" + +Was there ever such another grown-up woman as Polly O'Neill? Actually +there were tears in her eyes as she ended her speech, relinquishing her +hold on her companion in order to fish about in her pocket for a +handkerchief, which she failed to find. + +With entire gravity Mr. Hunt presented his, and Polly, wiping her eyes +and perspiring forehead, coolly retained the handkerchief. + +"Don't you think you are strong enough now to permit me to take you back +to your hotel, if I may not look for your maid?" the man suggested, +wondering if his companion had any idea of how absurd their position +was, nor of how much he desired to get away from her. + +However, she only sighed comfortably. "Oh, thank you very much, but +don't trouble. I am perfectly all right now. I was only out of breath +because I was running after a little girl who is as fleet as a deer. But +I don't want to go back to my hotel unless you were coming to see me. I +was much too lonely there. I'll just walk along with you and after a +while, if I am tired again, perhaps we may find a bench and you'll sit +down with me. Of course I know you are too dignified to sit on the grass +like I am doing." + +Without the least assistance Polly rose up and stood beside her +companion, smiling at him somewhat wistfully. + +What else could any man do except agree to her wishes? Besides, she had +him cornered either way. For now if he continued his journey toward her +hotel she would assuredly accompany him, and she had also volunteered to +walk the other way. + +Moreover, it would seem too surly and disgruntled to refuse so simple a +courtesy to an old acquaintance. + +So Polly and her former friend walked slowly along in the brilliant +Colorado sunshine in air so clear that it seemed almost dazzling. Beyond +they could see the tops of snow-covered mountains tinted azure by the +sky. It would have been humanly impossible to have felt unfriendly +toward any human being in such circumstances and on such a day. + +Every now and then Polly would glance surreptitiously toward her +companion's face. Gracious, he did look older! His hair was almost +entirely gray and his expression certainly less kind. Polly wondered if +he had really minded their broken engagement. Surely he had never cared +seriously for so unreliable a person! She must have seemed only a +foolish school girl to him, incapable of knowing her own mind. For of +course if he had not felt in this way he would have made some effort to +persuade her to change her decision. How often she used to lie awake +wondering why he did not write or come to her? Well, he was probably +grateful enough for his escape by this time. + +Then without in the least knowing what she was going to say nor why she +said it, Polly inquired suddenly: + +"Richard, do you think Margaret Adams is happy in her marriage? I have +so often wondered. Of course she writes me she is." + +Several years before, Miss Adams had married one of the richest men in +New York City and since then had retired permanently from the stage. +Indeed, many persons considered that Polly had succeeded to her fame and +position. + +Richard Hunt shook his head. "Really, I don't know any more than you do, +Miss Polly," he returned. "But she has a fine son and certainly looks to +me to be happy." + +Polly smiled. At least she had succeeded in persuading her companion to +call her "Miss Polly." That was a step in the right direction, for in +spite of her own boldness in using his first name as she had done years +before, up to this moment she had been addressed as Miss O'Neill. + +But there were so many things to say that she quite forgot in what way +she should say them and talked on every minute of the time. + +She had been so lonely, so depressed until now, that life had seemed to +have lost almost all its former interest. + +When she was plainly too tired to go further Richard Hunt sat down with +her on a wayside bench for ten minutes. Then he resolutely rose and said +good-bye. + +"I am ever so glad to find that you are so much better," he concluded +finally. "I see there is no cause for anxiety." Yet even as he spoke the +man wondered how any human being could manage to be as delicate looking +as Polly O'Neill and yet do all the things she was able to accomplish? +Just now, of course, she did look rather worse than usual for her run; +and then the walk afterwards had used up her strength. Besides, she had +been trying so hard to persuade her old friend again to cherish a little +liking for her and at this moment was convinced of her failure. + +She shook her head. "Thank you," she answered quietly. "It has done me +good to have seen some one of whom I am fond. It hasn't been altogether +cheerful being out here ill and alone. It was kind of you to have cared +enough to inquire about me. I suppose you will soon be going back to +work. Good luck and farewell." + +Polly reached out her slender hand, which was white and small with blue +veins upon it. In her haste on leaving her apartment she had, of course, +forgotten gloves. + +However, instead of shaking her hand quietly, as both of them expected, +Richard Hunt raised her fingers to his lips. + +"I am not going away from Colorado immediately. May I come and see you +soon again?" he inquired. A few minutes before he had not the slightest +intention of ever deliberately trying to see Polly O'Neill alone as long +as they lived. But she did look so forlorn and as lonely as a forsaken +little girl. No one could ever have guessed that this was the celebrated +Miss O'Neill whose acting had charmed many thousands of people during +the last eight or ten years. + +Polly bit her lips. "Then you will come? I was afraid to ask you," she +replied. "I want so much to tell you about a queer little girl whom I +have come across out in these wilds. Her name is Bobbin and she seems to +be deaf and dumb. I feel that I ought to do something for her and don't +know exactly what to do. Perhaps I'll adopt her, although I'm afraid the +family and Betty Graham won't approve. But anyhow, Sylvia, the +well-known Doctor Sylvia Wharton, who is a children's specialist, may be +able to do something for her." + +Naturally this idea of adopting Bobbin had not dawned upon Polly until +the instant of announcing it. But the more she thought of taking the +girl to Sylvia's care the more the idea appealed to her. Besides, +Bobbin perhaps might awaken Mr. Hunt's interest if he could see the +child and hear her tragic story. The little girl might be made +attractive with her queer eyes and sunburned hair, if she were cleaner +and more civilized. + +"You will come some day and help me decide what to do, won't you?" Polly +urged. "One's chief difficulty is not alone that Bobbin won't be +adopted, she won't even let herself be discovered. She is such a queer, +wild little thing." + +Then she watched her companion until he was entirely out of sight and +afterwards got up and strolled slowly home. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE WAY HOME + + +NOT a long time afterward Bobbin must have changed her mind for some +reason or other, for voluntarily she came to call on Miss O'Neill. That +is, she appeared in the garden and threw a queer scarlet flower up to +the veranda. Then she waited without trying to escape when Polly came +down to talk to her. And evidently she must have felt, somewhere back in +the odd recesses of her mind, that she was to be considered a visitor, +for she had washed her face and hands and even her hair. Indeed, though +it hung perfectly straight, Polly thought that she had never seen more +splendid hair in her life, it held such strange bright colors from being +always exposed to the sun and air; besides, it was long and heavy. + +Moreover, Bobbin wore an old red jacket, which some one recently had +given her, over the same pitiful calico dress. + +By and by, using all the tact she possessed, Polly persuaded her visitor +out of the yard and up-stairs to her own rooms. Of course Marie, the +maid, was shocked and displeased, but after all she was fairly +accustomed to her mistress's eccentricities. Moreover, after a little +while she too became interested in Bobbin. The first thing Polly +undertook to do was to feed her visitor. She had an idea that Bobbin +might be hungry, but she did not dream how hungry. The girl ate like a +little wolf, ravenously, secretly if it had been possible. Only, +fortunately, she had learned something of table manners from her +occasional training in institutions, so that she at least understood the +use of a knife and fork, and altogether her hostess was less horrified +than she had expected to be. + +Later on Bobbin and Polly undertook to have a conversation. This they +managed by acquiring large sheets of paper and nicely sharpened pencils. +But it was astonishing how easily Bobbin appeared to understand whatever +her new friend said to her and how readily she seemed to be willing to +accept her suggestions. + +The truth is that the half savage little girl had conceived a sudden, +unexplainable devotion to the strange lady whom she had discovered +asleep on the sands. Perhaps Bobbin too may have dreamed dreams and +imagined quaint fairy tales, so that Polly's appearance answered some +fancy of her own. But whatever it was, she had offered her faithful +allegiance to this possible fairy princess or just ordinary, human +woman. Yet how Bobbin was to keep the faith it was well that neither she +nor Polly knew at the present time. + +However, by the end of her visit the girl had promised to go back to the +home which the town had provided for her and to do her best to learn all +she could. As a reward for this she was to be allowed to make other +visits to Miss O'Neill. She was even to be allowed to eat from the same +blue and white china and drink tea from the same blue cup. + +Moreover, before Bobbin's final departure Marie persuaded her into the +bathroom and half an hour later she came forth beautifully clean and +dressed in a discarded costume of Polly's, which was too long for her, +but otherwise served very well. It was merely a many times washed white +silk shirt waist and blue serge walking skirt and coat. They made Bobbin +appear rather absurd and old, so that Polly was not sure she had not +liked her best in her rags. However, both Bobbin and Marie were too +pleased for her to offer criticism; yet, notwithstanding, Polly made up +her mind that she would try and purchase the girl more suitable clothes +as soon as possible and that she would write and ask Betty Graham's and +Sylvia's advice in regard to her. + +For Richard Hunt had not come to see her since their accidental meeting +and she could hope for no interest from him. Polly wished she had never +laid eyes upon him, for their little talk had only served to start a +chain of memories she wished forgotten. Besides, of course, she felt +lonelier than ever, since there is nothing so depressing as waiting for +a friend who does not come. + +Soon after dinner that evening Polly undressed and put on a pretty kind +of tea gown of dark red silk, the color she had always fancied ever +since girlhood. She was idling about in her sitting room wondering what +she could do to amuse herself when unexpectedly Mr. Hunt was announced. + +"Why, Polly," he began on entering, his manner changed from the coldness +of their first meeting, "do you know what that gown you are wearing +brings back to me? Our talk in the funny little boarding house in Boston +so many years ago, when you explained to me that you had run off and +were in hiding in order to try and learn to be an actress. I wish I +could tell you how proud I am of your success." + +But Polly did not wish to talk of her success tonight. So she only +shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, I have always been doing foolish things for +the sake of my acting and yet I don't seem to amount to much." + +After this visit Richard Hunt returned half a dozen times. Polly did not +understand whether he was acting in the West not far from Colorado +Springs or whether he too was taking a holiday. She asked the question +once, but as her old friend did not answer her explicitly she let the +matter drop. + +Nevertheless it was quite true that from the time his visits began she +grew steadily better. Finally, about ten days before Christmas, Miss +O'Neill's physician announced that she might return to the New Hampshire +hills to complete her cure at her sister's home. + +Then came the hour of final decision in regard to Bobbin. + +Of course Polly could not adopt the girl in the conventional sense. It +would have been impossible to have her travel about with her or to have +kept her constantly with her. And even if it had been possible this was +not what Bobbin needed. Fortunately for Polly, Richard Hunt's ideas on +the subject were far more sensible than her own. Between them it was +decided that Bobbin should travel east with Miss O'Neill and her maid +and spend Christmas at the big Webster farm. Mollie had written she +would be glad to have her. Then later Bobbin was to see Sylvia Wharton +and be put into some school where she might learn to talk and perhaps +acquire some useful occupation. + +There was no difficulty in persuading the town authorities to permit the +little girl to follow her new friend. Indeed, the child had always been +a tremendous problem and they were more than glad to be rid of the +burden. She seemed completely changed by Miss O'Neill's influence. She +was far quieter and more tractable and had not run away in several +weeks. Besides this she appeared to be learning all kinds of things in +the most extraordinary fashion. However, her teacher explained this to +Polly by saying that Bobbin had always been unusually clever, but that +some wild streak in her nature had kept her from making any real effort +until now. + +Another peculiarity of the girl's which Polly remembered having seen an +example of on the morning of their first meeting was that she had +absolutely no sensation of physical fear. Either nothing hurt her very +much or else she was indifferent to pain. For this reason it had always +been impossible either to punish her or to make her aware of danger. The +thought interested Polly, since she considered herself something of a +coward. She wondered if some day she and Bobbin might not change places +and the little girl be discovered taking care of her. + +However, when the three women finally started east there was nothing +unusual in the appearance of any one of them. For by this time Polly's +protege was dressed like any other girl of her age with her hair neatly +braided. There only remained her peculiar fashion of staring. + +Richard Hunt saw the little party off. He expected to be in New York +later in the winter and promised to write and inquire what had become of +Bobbin. However, he did not promise to come to Woodford to see Miss +O'Neill, although Polly more than once invited him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +"A LITTLE RIFT WITHIN THE LUTE" + + +"BUT, my dearest sister, what is the matter with Betty? You were +perfectly right, she isn't one bit like herself and neither is Anthony. +I don't even believe she was particularly glad to see me when I stopped +over in Concord with her for a few days." + +Polly O'Neill was in her sister Mollie's big, sunshiny living room in +her splendid old farm-house near Sunrise Cabin. There was no specially +handsome furniture in the room, perhaps nothing particularly beautiful +in itself, yet Polly had just announced that it was the very homiest +room in all the world and for that reason the nicest. + +There were low book-shelves on two sides of the room, for though Mollie +never read anything except at night when her husband read aloud to her, +Billy Webster kept up with all the latest books, fiction, history, +travel, besides subscribing to most of the magazines in the country. +Indeed, although he and Polly often quarreled good-naturedly, Polly was +openly proud of her brother-in-law, who had turned out to be a more +intelligent and capable man than she had ever expected. + +But besides Billy's books there were lots of old chairs, some of them +rather worn, but all delightfully comfortable; a great big table, now +littered with children's toys; the old-fashioned couch upon which Polly +was reposing; some ornaments belonging to ancestral Websters and a tall +grandfather's clock, besides half a dozen engravings and etchings on the +walls. + +Mollie was sitting in a low chair dressing a big china doll. The +sunshine lingered on her dark hair, her plump pink cheeks and her happy +expression. For she was in a delightful state of content with the world. +Was not her beloved Polly at home for the Christmas festivities and were +not Billy and the children and her mother in excellent health and +spirits? + +Yet she looked a little uneasy over her sister's question. For Betty was +nearer to her heart than any one outside her own family. + +"So you noticed it too, Polly?" she returned, stopping her work for a +moment and gazing out the great glass window. Outside in the snow her +three children were playing, her little girl, Polly, and Billy and Dan. +Bobbin was standing a short distance away watching them intently. +Indeed, ever since her arrival at the farm she seemed to have done +almost nothing except look and look with all her might and main. The +girl seemed scarcely to wish either to eat or sleep. And at first this +had worried her new friends, until suddenly Polly had realized what a +wonderful new experience Mollie's home and family were to this child who +had never seen anything in the least like it in her whole life. + +But Mollie was not watching the children. Polly got up and leaned on her +elbow to discover what had attracted her sister's attention. For only a +few moments before the children had been sent outdoors to keep them from +tiring the aunt whom they adored. + +No, Mollie's gaze was fastened on a big man who had just approached +wearing a heavy overcoat and a fur cap and carrying a great bunch of +mistletoe and holly in his hands, which he was showing with careful +attention to the little girl visitor. + +"Here comes Billy," she explained. "Perhaps he can tell us." + +Of course Polly laughed. "Gracious, dear, isn't there anything in the +world you won't let your husband decide? I should think that even Mr. +William Webster could hardly tell us what is troubling our beloved +Betty. And I don't know that it is even right to ask him. You see, old +maids are shy about these things." + +But in reply Mollie shook her head reproachfully. "I was only going to +ask Billy about the difficulty Anthony is having with his position as +Governor," she explained. "You see, I know there is some kind of talk. +People are saying he is not being as honest as they expected. There is a +bill which ex-Governor Peyton and Meg's husband, Jack Emmet, and her +brother, John, are trying to get through the Legislature. Most people +don't think the bill is honest and believe Anthony should come out and +say he is opposed to it. But so far he has not said anything one way or +the other. I thought maybe Betty was worrying because people were +thinking such hateful things about Anthony. I simply couldn't stand it +if it were Billy." + +"Wise Mollie!" her sister answered thoughtfully. "You may be right, but +somehow there seemed to me to be something else troubling Betty. If it +were only this political trouble, why shouldn't she have confided in +me?" + +But at this instant William Webster came into the room with a dozen +letters and almost as many newspapers in his hands. Six of the letters +he bestowed on Polly, who opened five of them and stuck the sixth inside +her dress. + +Ten minutes later Billy Webster looked up from the paper he was reading. +"See here," he said, "I don't like this. This paper comes pretty near +having an insulting letter in it concerning Anthony Graham. Of course it +does not say anything outright, but the insinuations are even worse. +See, the article is headed: 'Is Our Reform Governor So Honest As We +Supposed?' Then later on the writer suggests that Anthony may not be +above taking graft himself. Everybody knows he is a poor man." + +Afterwards there was an unusual silence in the big room until Billy +turned inquiringly toward his wife and sister-in-law. + +"Don't take my question in the wrong way, please," he began rather +timidly. "But is Betty Graham a very extravagant woman? I know she was +brought up to have a great deal of money, and although she was poor for +a little while that may not have made any difference. You see, Anthony +Graham is absolutely an honest man, but everybody knows that he adores +his wife----" + +Billy stopped because quite in her old girlhood fashion Polly had sprung +up on her sofa and her eyes were fairly blazing at him. + +"What utter nonsense, Billy Webster! You ought to be ashamed of yourself +for suggesting such a thing. In the first place, Betty is not +extravagant, but even if she were she would most certainly rather be +dead than have Anthony do a dishonest thing on her account. Besides, if +Anthony is your friend and you really believe in him, you ought not to +doubt him under any possible circumstances." Then Polly bit her lips and +calmed down somewhat, for Mollie was looking a little frightened as she +always did when her sister and Billy disagreed. However, her sympathies +this time were assuredly on her sister's side. + +"If you had only belonged to a Camp Fire club as we did with Betty +Ashton you would never have doubted her even for a second, Billy. I know +you don't really," Mollie added, somewhat severely for her. "Oh, dear, I +never shall cease to be grateful for our club! All the girls seem almost +like sisters to me, and especially Betty." + +Billy Webster folded up his paper and glanced first at his wife and then +at his sister-in-law. + +"I beg everybody's pardon," he said slowly, "and I stand rebuked! +Certainly I did not mean really to doubt either Anthony or Betty for a +moment. But you are right, Mollie dear, that Camp Fire Club certainly +taught you girls loyalty toward one another. I don't believe people dare +say nowadays that women are not loyal friends, and perhaps the Camp Fire +clubs have had their influence. But some day soon I believe I will go up +to Concord and see Anthony. Perhaps he might like to talk to an old +friend." + +"He and Betty and the children are coming to Woodford for Christmas," +Mollie announced contentedly, whipping away at the lace on the doll's +dress now that peace was again restored. "Betty says she can't miss the +chance of spending a Christmas with Polly after all these years. +Besides, she is curious about Bobbin. I hope Sylvia will come too. She +won't promise to leave her old hospital, but I believe the desire to see +Polly will bring her here. You know she writes, Polly, that you are +positively not to come to her for the present." + +Her sister nodded, but a few moments later got up and went up alone to +her own room. + +Their talk had somehow made her feel more uncomfortable about Betty +than she had in the beginning. Somehow she had hoped that Mollie would +not be so ready to agree with her own judgment. Yet most decidedly she +had noticed a change in Betty during her short visit to her. Betty was +no longer gay and sweet-tempered; she was nervous and cross, sometimes +with her husband and children, now and then with the two girls who were +spending the winter with her, Angelique Martins and Faith Barton. +Moreover, she had gotten a good deal thinner, and though she was as +pretty as ever, sometimes looked tired and discontented. Besides, she +was living such a society existence, teas, balls, dinners, receptions +almost every hour of the day and night. No wonder she was tired! Of +course Anthony could not always go with her; he was far too busy and had +never cared for society. For a moment Polly wondered when Betty and her +husband managed to see each other when they were both so occupied with +different interests. Yet when they had married she had believed them +absolutely the most devoted and congenial of all her friends. + +Well, Betty need not expect finally to escape confessing her difficulty. +Even if there was no opportunity for an intimate talk during the +Christmas gayeties they must see each other soon again. Either she would +go to Concord or have Betty come again to Mollie's. + +Then Polly cast off her worries and settling herself comfortably in a +big leather chair by the fire took out the letter concealed inside her +dress and began reading it. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +SUSPICION + + +"ANGEL, will you go into Anthony's private office; he told me he wanted +to speak to you," Betty Graham said carelessly one afternoon in +December. She was dressed for driving in a long fur coat and small black +velvet hat which brought out the colors in her auburn hair in the most +attractive fashion. + +However, her expression changed as she saw the girl to whom she had just +spoken turn white and clasp the railing of the banister as if to keep +herself from falling. + +"What on earth is the matter with you, Angel?" she demanded crossly. +"You look like you were going to faint when I deliver a perfectly simple +message. Surely you are not afraid of Anthony after living here with us +all this time and working for him even longer. I suppose he just wants +to speak to you about some business in connection with the office. He +never talks of anything else." Then a little ashamed of her impatience, +Betty put her arm on Angel's shoulder. + +"There has been something on your mind recently, hasn't there, Angel, +something you have not cared to confide to me?" She stopped, for her +remark was half a statement and half a question. + +However, Angel nodded agreement. + +"Well, I am sorry, but I don't seem to be worthy of any one's confidence +these days," Betty continued, trying to speak lightly. "However, if any +one wishes to know where I have gone, dear, please say that Meg Emmet +and I are driving together and that we are to have tea with old +Professor Everett." And the next moment Betty Graham had disappeared +down the steps. + +Still Angel stood in the same place and in the same position. + +Surely Betty was being kept in the dark if she did not dream of the +trouble that had been hovering over the Governor's office for several +weeks. Several important state papers had been misplaced, lost or +stolen. No one knew what had become of them, yet on them a great deal +depended. They were the proof that the Governor required for exposing +certain men whom he believed dishonest. It was absolutely necessary that +they should be found. + +Summoning her courage, Angel knocked timidly at the Governor's study +door. It was in front of this same door that she had watched the guests +at the Inaugural Ball some weeks before. Of course it was absurd for her +to be frightened at the Governor's having sent for her. She was too +insignificant a person even to be questioned in regard to the lost +papers, as she was only one of the unimportant stenographers at the +Capitol and was only occasionally asked to do any of the Governor's +private work. + +Anthony was sitting with his desk littered with papers when Angel walked +timidly in. She thought he looked rather old and tired and stern for so +young a man. But he was always very polite and at once got up and +offered her a chair. + +"I am sorry to disturb you out of office hours like this, Angel," he +began kindly. "I know it is Saturday afternoon and a half holiday, but I +thought perhaps we could talk something over better here at home than +at the office. One is so constantly interrupted there." + +Angel made a queer little noise in her throat which she believed to have +sounded like "Yes." + +Of course the Governor was going to dismiss her from her position. She +was not a particularly good stenographer, not half so fast as many of +the girls, although she had tried to be thorough. But then she had no +real talent for office work and of course there was no reason why she +should continue to hold her position because she was a friend of the +family. Positively Angel was beginning to feel sorry for the Governor's +embarrassment and already had made up her mind to try and get some other +kind of work. She would not stay on and be dependent. + +Anthony was tapping his desk with his pencil. + +"See here, Angel," he said, "I wonder if you by any chance have the +faintest idea of what has become of some papers we have been a good deal +worried about at the office. I know you don't often have anything to do +with my private business, but I thought by accident you might have seen +them lying around at some time. They were two or three letters bound +around with a blue paper and a rubber band. Know anything about them?" + +The girl started. For suddenly the Governor's manner had changed and he +was looking at her sternly out of his rather cold, searching eyes. For a +man does not win his way to greatness through all the trials that +Anthony Graham had endured without having some streak of hardness in +him. + +Quietly Angel shook her head, but she was neither nervous nor offended +by the Governor's questioning. She had heard the gossip, strictly within +the office, of the loss of these letters and it was most natural that +every member of the force should be investigated concerning them. + +"I am sorry," she answered, her voice trembling the least little bit in +spite of her efforts, "but I have never at any time seen anything of the +letters you mention. Could it be possible that one of the servants at +the Capitol realized their importance and stole them in order to get +money for them?" + +"No," the Governor answered promptly, "that is not possible, because the +letters were taken from this study and in this house. Think again, +Angel, have you seen nothing of them? There is no one else living in the +house here, you know, who works at my office except you." + +Angel jumped quickly to her feet. "You don't mean--you can't mean," she +began chokingly. "Oh, I can't bear it! I shall tell Betty--she will +never believe. Why, I thought you were my best friends, almost my only +friends." For a moment she found it impossible to go on. + +But the Governor was looking almost as wretched as she was herself. "My +dear, I don't mean really to accuse you of anything, remember. I am only +asking you questions. And I particularly beg of you not to mention this +trouble of ours to Betty. She is not very well at present and I am +afraid she thinks I am too hard on all her friends. Indeed, I am sure I +should never have dreamed of you in connection with this matter, but +that some one in whom I have great confidence told me that he had seen +you coming out of my study on the night on which I believe my papers +were mislaid. We won't talk about the matter any more for the present, +however. Possibly the letters will yet turn up, and it has been only my +own carelessness that is responsible for the loss. There, do go up to +your own room and lie down for a while, Angel. I assure you this +conversation has been as distasteful to me as it has to you. It was only +because the discovery of these letters is so important that I decided to +talk to you. But don't think I am accusing you." + +Sympathetically and apologetically the Governor now smiled at his +companion, the smile that had always changed his face so completely from +a grave sternness to the utmost kindness and charm. + +But Angel would not be appeased. She had always a passionate temper +inherited from her Latin ancestors, though she usually kept it well +under control. + +"You mean your private secretary, Kenneth Helm, has suggested that you +question me," she announced bitterly. "I knew he disliked me for some +reason or other, but I did not know his dislike was as cruel as this. +It was he who saw me sitting out here watching the people down-stairs +the night of your Inaugural Ball, because I was too shy to go down +alone." For an instant it occurred to Angel to say that she had seen +Kenneth Helm enter the Governor's private study on this same evening. +But what would have been the use? The Governor probably knew of it and +certainly he had the utmost faith in his secretary. It would only look +as if she were trying to be spiteful and turn the suspicion upon some +one else. Besides, had she not promised Kenneth Helm not to tell? At +least she would not condescend to break her word. + +Stumbling half blindly, Angel made her way out of the study. In the hall +she found Bettina waiting for her. + +"You promised to come and play more secret with me. Will you come now, +Angel? We can go up to the nursery and lock the door; there is no one to +find us," Tina urged. + +But Angel could only shake her head, not daring to let the little girl +see into her face. + +Nevertheless, outside her own bedroom door she had to meet an even +greater strain upon her nerves. For there stood Faith Barton in a pretty +house dress and with a box of candy in her hands. + +"May I come in and talk to you for a little while, Angel?" she asked, +hesitating the least little bit. "Kenneth has just sent me a note and a +box of candy, saying that he cannot keep his engagement with me tonight. +He is so dreadfully busy, poor fellow! I don't believe Governor Graham +works one-half so hard. So I thought maybe you would let me stay with +you, as I am rather lonely. Besides, Angel, there isn't any sense in +your treating me so coldly as you have lately. If I am doing wrong in +keeping my engagement a secret, I am doing wrong, that's all. But I +don't think you ought to be unkind to me. If I have been hateful to you +about anything, truly I am sorry. You know I have always been awfully +fond of you, dear, and wanted to be your friend ever so much more than +you ever wished to be mine." + +But instead of answering Faith, the other girl had to push by her +almost rudely, stammering: + +"I can't talk to you now, Faith. I've got the headache. I'm not very +well; I must lie down." + +Then with Faith standing almost on her threshold, resolutely Angel +closed the door in her face. + +If there was one person above all others at this moment with whom she +could not bear to talk it was Faith Barton. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +WAITING TO FIND OUT + + +AS the days passed on, the little French girl did not find her +difficulties grow less. At the office she continued to hear veiled +discussions of the seriousness of the lost letters. No one, of course, +except a few persons in the Governor's confidence, knew exactly what +information the letters contained, but there was no question of their +political importance, for everybody could feel the atmosphere of strain +and suspense. Yet for one thing at least Angelique Martins was grateful: +no one had in any way associated her with the lost or stolen papers. For +whatever Kenneth Helm suspected, or Governor Graham feared, they had +both kept their own counsel. Yet this did not mean that they both +considered her guiltless. + +Time and time again Angel tried to summon courage to speak directly to +Kenneth Helm on the subject. She had frequent opportunities, for even +if there was danger of notice or interruption at the office, he came +very often to the Governor's mansion to see Faith or to dine with the +family. + +However, she simply did not know what to do or say. To go to Kenneth and +ask him why he had accused her seemed to the girl almost like a +confession of wrongdoing. For oftentimes it appears preposterous in this +world to be forced into denying an act that one could never have even +dreamed of committing. How can one suddenly say, "I am _not_ a thief, I +am _not_ a liar," when every thought and act of their lives has been +pure and good? + +Neither could Angel persuade herself to tell Kenneth Helm that she felt +just as suspicious of him as he could possibly feel of her. For she had +no proof of any kind except her own dislike and distrust and the fact +that she had seen him coming out of the Governor's private study on the +same night on which he had suggested that she might have previously +entered it. For of course the Governor's private secretary had a right +to his chief's private papers at almost all times. No, Kenneth would +only consider her accusation an expression of feeble revenge and be +perhaps more convinced of her guilt in consequence. + +Therefore there was nothing to do but wait with the hope that everything +would soon be cleared up and the lost letters either found or their +thief discovered. + +Moreover, Angel was not even to have the satisfaction of talking the +matter over with Betty, the one person in the world who could and would +have helped her. For she had the Governor's strict command against this +and did not dare disobey. Besides, Angel could see that Betty was unlike +herself these days and so should not be troubled by any one else's +trials. This, of course, was a mistaken point of view, as nothing would +so have helped Betty Graham at this time as to have had some one to +think about who really needed her. However, neither her friend nor her +husband could have realized this. + +Nevertheless there was one consolation that the little French girl +enjoyed during these days and that was "the secret" which she and +Bettina had been cherishing so ardently for weeks. Every spare hour she +had from her work she and Bettina had spent together in a big room at +the top of the house, which was Bettina's own private play-room, sacred +to her uses only. + +It was a lovely room with pale gray walls and warm, rose-colored +curtains, and all about were pictures of girls and boys who had come +straight out of fairyland and had their photographs taken by such +wonderful fairy artists as Maxfield Parish and Elizabeth Shippen Greene. + +For you see Angelique was absolutely attempting to draw one of these +fairy pictures herself, while Bettina was acting as her model. + +The picture was not to be a portrait, the artist had scarcely courage to +have undertaken that, but it was to represent Bettina's favorite +heroine, "Snow White and Rose Red." + +All her life, ever since she was a little girl of five or six, Angelique +Martins had been drawing and painting whenever she had the least chance +or excuse. Of course it was this same artistic gift that had showed in +her clever fingers and sense of color through all the work which she had +done in the Camp Fire Club. But of her actual talent as an artist +Angelique had always been extremely shy. You see, she cared for art so +much that she did not consider that she had any _real_ talent. But even +confessing that she had the least little ability, of course it would +take years of study and goodness knows how much money before she could +have hoped to amount to anything. + +Nevertheless there was nothing to forbid the little lame French girl's +amusing herself with her fancy whenever she had the chance. And ever +since she could remember, Angel had been drawing pictures for Bettina. +It had been their favorite amusement as soon as Tina passed beyond her +babyhood, which was sooner than most children. + +Naturally Angel had drawn hundreds of pictures with Bettina as her model +before, but never one half so ambitious as this. However, this last one +represented about the sixth effort, and it was a great question even +now whether this was to be the final one. For "Snow White and Rose Red" +was not merely a play picture, one that had been painted merely for +amusement; it had a most serious intention behind it. + +Weeks before in a magazine which the two friends had been looking over +together they had come across an advertisement. A prize of two hundred +dollars was offered for the best picture illustrating any fairy story. +Moreover, no well-known artist was to be allowed to enter the +competition; the drawings were all to be made by amateurs under +twenty-five years of age. + +The first suggestion that Angel should take part in this wonderful +contest had come, of course, from Bettina as soon as the older girl had +read her the amazing announcement, for Tina's faith in her friend was +without limit. Then just as naturally Angel first laughed at her +suggestion and afterwards decided to try just for fun to see what she +could do; and here at last was most furiously in earnest, although still +undecided whether to send her picture to the competition or to throw it +away. + +There were only a few days more before the time limit expired. +Therefore, would it be possible for her to undertake an entirely new +picture here at the very last? + +With these uncertainties weighing on her mind Angel was sitting in front +of a small easel with a box of pastels on a table near by. Closer to the +big nursery window Bettina was curled up in a white armchair, one foot +tucked up under her in a favorite attitude and in her lap were half a +dozen red roses. + +She was tired, for she had been quiet an unusually long time while Angel +made slight changes in her work and then stopped to consider the whole +thing disparagingly. But somehow her weariness made Bettina's pose even +more charming. + +[Illustration: ANGEL HAD CAUGHT BETTINA'S ATTITUDE ALMOST EXACTLY] + +Her long yellow-brown hair hung over her shoulders down into her very +lap, her eyes were wide open and yet were plainly not looking at any +particular object. For Tina was making up stories to amuse herself while +Angel worked. It was only in this way that she could manage to keep +still for so long a time as Angel needed. + +But this was the picture that Bettina herself made; what of her friend's +drawing of her? Naturally it was not so graceful or pretty as the little +girl herself. + +Nevertheless, by some happy chance Angel had caught Bettina's attitude +almost exactly. Then too she had drawn a little girl who did not look +exactly like other children. There was a suggestion of poetry, almost of +mystery, about her fairy tale girl, in the wide open blue-gray eyes, +dreaming as Tina's so often were, and in the half uncurled lips. + +Of course the lines of the drawing were not so firm and clear as an +experienced artist would have made them, yet glancing at the little +picture, you felt something that made you wish to look at it again. + +However, Angel sighed so that Bettina came out of her dream story and +stretched herself in the big chair. + +"What is the matter?" she inquired. "May I get up and walk about the +room now?" + +The older girl nodded. "Thank you, dear. This is the last time I am +going to trouble you to sit for this picture. I have just decided that I +can't do any better by trying it over again, yet I don't know whether I +shall send it to the competition after all." + +The next moment Angel was startled by something that sounded almost like +a sob from Tina. Since the little girl was so seldom cross, she was +surprised and a little frightened. + +"I am sorry you are so tired. Why didn't you tell me?" Angelique +demanded. + +Bettina had crossed the nursery and was standing close beside her +picture. + +"It isn't that, it is only that I do want you to send it so much," +Bettina answered. "You see, I think it is the best picture anybody ever +painted and we have both worked so hard and it has been such a nice +secret," she said huskily. + +Angel put her arm about her. "Of course I'll send it, dear, if you feel +that way," she conceded. "But you must not even dream that I shall get +the prize and you must promise not to be disappointed if we never hear +of the picture again." + +Bettina agreed and then there followed a most unexpected knocking at the +locked nursery door. The two conspirators stared at each other in +consternation. + +"Who is it, please?" Bettina demanded. "You know Angel and I are having +our secret together and we can't let any one come in." + +Betty's voice replied: "Yes, I know; but I thought maybe the secret was +over and you would like me to come and play too. I am feeling pretty +lonesome." + +"Oh," Tina returned, and then she and Angel whispered together. Finally +the little girl came over toward the closed door. + +"I wish you would not be lonesome just now, mother," she murmured, "just +when we are most dreadfully busy. If you will only go away for a little +while and then come back, why, Angel and I will love to play with you." + +"I am afraid I won't be here after a while," Betty answered and then +walked slowly away. It was absurd for her to feel wounded by such a +trifle, and yet recently it had looked as though Bettina preferred +Angelique's company to hers. What a useless person she was growing to +be! Well, at least she and Meg were going to a Suffrage meeting that +afternoon! She had not intended going, but the baby was asleep and +Anthony would not be home for hours. Perhaps after the talk ended she +might drive by and get Anthony to return with her. She had not thought +him looking very well that morning. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A TALK THAT WAS NOT AN EXPLANATION + + +THE Suffrage meeting was fairly interesting, but then both Meg and Betty +had been believers in equal rights for men and women ever since their +Camp Fire days and there were few new arguments to be heard on the +subject. + +When they came out from the crowded hall, however, it was still too +early to call for Anthony. There could be no hope of getting hold of him +before half-past five o'clock. So it was Meg Emmet's suggestion that she +and Betty stop by and see her father for a few moments. Professor +Everett had a slight cold and his daughter was a little uneasy about +him. + +They found the old gentleman in his library sipping hot tea and +re-reading a letter from his son, Horace, whom Betty could not ever +think of by any more serious name than "Bumps." She always saw a vision +of the small boy dragging around at his sister Meg's heels and tumbling +over every object in their way. However, "Bumps" had grown up to be a +very clever fellow and had a better record at college than his brother +John ever had. The young man was to graduate in law at Cornell in the +coming spring. The present letter was to say, however, that he expected +to spend Christmas in Concord with his father. He had been doing some +tutoring at Cornell and had earned the money for his trip himself. + +Plainly Professor Everett was much pleased by this news. He had always +been a devoted father to all his three motherless children, but Horace +was his "Benjamin." + +Moreover, they were still talking of "Bumps" when unexpectedly John +Everett made his appearance. He was looking rather fagged, but explained +that there was nothing going on at his office and so he had quit for the +day. + +Nevertheless tea had a reviving effect upon him, as it had upon both Meg +and Betty, so that Betty was surprised to discover that it was twenty +minutes past five o'clock when her visit seemed scarcely to have begun. + +It was quite dark, however, as it was toward the middle of December when +the days are short, so that John Everett insisted upon accompanying his +sister and friend, even though they were in Betty's carriage. + +Meg's home was nearer. They drove there first and later John went on to +the Capitol, where Betty sent in to inquire if the Governor were free to +return home with her. + +There was a little time to wait before the answer came, so that in the +meanwhile Betty and John continued talking. + +It was Betty who asked the first important question. + +"I do hope, John, that your new business is succeeding," she said +carelessly, although of course she felt a friendly interest in John's +success and in that of Meg's husband. + +However, John Everett hesitated a moment before replying. + +"Oh, our success depends on your Governor and so perhaps on you," he +answered in a half joking tone. "I don't know whether you happen to have +heard anything about it, but we are trying to get a bill through the +Legislature this season which will give us the chance to build the new +roads in the state of New Hampshire for the next few years. But we don't +know just yet how the Governor feels about it, whether he is going to +oppose our bill or work with us. He has a big lot of influence." + +"Oh," Betty replied vaguely. She sincerely hoped that John Everett was +not going to try persuade her to ask her husband to assist him for the +second time. Surely if he did she would refuse. For in the first place +she did not wish to confess that she believed herself to have no real +influence with her husband and in the second she wouldn't try to +interfere in anything so important as a bill to be gotten through the +Legislature unless she knew everything about it. Formerly she had taken +an intense interest in all the political affairs that interested her +husband, yet recently Anthony had not been discussing matters with her +very often. Moreover, she had a sudden feeling that she did not wish to +be mixed up again with John Everett's concerns. + +So fortunately before Betty had a chance to reply Anthony came down the +length of stone steps to his wife's carriage. + +He seemed pleased at seeing her, but not very enthusiastic over her +companion. + +However, John Everett said good-bye and left at once. + +They had only fairly started on the road toward home when Anthony said +suddenly: + +"I do wish, Betty, that you would not be seen so often with John +Everett. Oh, I know you don't realize it, but it seems to me that you +are very often with him. I know he is Meg's brother and that you are +devoted friends, but I tell you I don't like the fellow. The more I know +him, the less I like him. So I simply won't have my wife in his +society." + +Betty caught her breath and her cheeks flushed hotly in the darkness. +How unkind Anthony was to her these days! Could it be possible that he +did not love her any more? He certainly could not be jealous of John +Everett; that idea was too absurd to be considered. For she never had +cared for any one in her life except her husband and he must know it. +However, she had no intention of being bullied. + +"Don't be silly, Anthony," Betty replied petulantly. "I don't see very +much of John Everett. Besides, if I did what difference would it make? +Of course, if you know anything actually against him you would tell me?" + +"So you no longer wish to do things just because I wish them? I'm sorry, +Betty," Anthony returned. Then they drove the rest of the way home in +silence, both behaving like sullen children in spite of the fact that +they were entirely grown-up people, the Governor of the state and his +clever and charming wife. + +For the truth was that Anthony Graham was jealous of John Everett and +yet was ashamed to speak of it. He would never have dreamt of such a +feeling if only he and Betty had not been estranged for the past few +weeks. Besides, he was missing the opportunity to spend as much time +with her as he formerly had before his election to office. Surely Betty +must understand that. How could he help hating to have another fellow +drinking tea with her on any number of afternoons when he was slaving +at his office--especially a man like John Everett? + +Oh, of course Anthony realized that this was rather a dog-in-the-manger +attitude on his part and that he ought to laugh over it with his wife. + +Moreover, if he had, Betty would have understood and forgiven him. She +might even have been a little pleased, since she believed that Anthony +did not miss the loss of her society half so much as she had the loss of +his. If he had even told her the special reason he had for disliking +John Everett doubtless she would have been convinced, in spite of her +natural loyalty to her old friends. + +But Anthony did not even do this. He had an idea that he was saving +Betty trouble by not telling her of the loss of the papers by which he +could prove that the bill which ex-Governor Peyton, Jack Emmet and John +Everett were trying to get through the Legislature was an effort to +cheat the state. + +Yet in consequence Betty cried herself into a headache and was therefore +unable to come down to dinner, while Anthony decided that she would not +come simply because she was too angry with him. + +So can people in this world manage to misunderstand each other, even +after they have been married a number of years and are very deeply and +truly in love with each other. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +CHRISTMAS + + +STILL unreconciled, Anthony and Betty went together to spend their +Christmas with Mrs. Ashton in Woodford in the old Ashton homestead. They +took with them both Bettina and Tony and the nurse and Faith Barton. +However, Faith was of course to stay with her foster parents, Doctor and +Mrs. Barton. + +Only Angel refused to accompany the little party. She claimed not to be +feeling well, to have some business that she must attend to, and indeed +made so many excuses that Betty, seeing that she really did wish to be +left behind, gave up arguing the matter with her. Moreover, Meg promised +to look after Angel and see that she had her Christmas dinner with them, +so that she would not be particularly lonely. + +It was in Angel's mind that perhaps during the family's absence +something might occur which would relieve her from all suspicion in the +Governor's sight. Yet if she thought that this would come about through +Kenneth Helm she was mistaken, for Kenneth departed for Woodford on +Christmas eve to spend the following day with Faith and her parents. + +Besides seeing her mother and giving her children the pleasure of a +country Christmas Betty was chiefly looking forward to being with Polly. +Somehow she felt that Polly would be sure to cheer her up and make her +feel young again. They could take long walks through the woods and +discover whether little Sunrise Cabin was still habitable. Billy and +Mollie had always looked after it, carefully attending to whatever +repairs were necessary, so doubtless it was as good as new. + +Nevertheless it was extremely difficult after her arrival for Betty and +Polly to find time for the intimate hours that they both longed to have +together, for there were so many other people about--old friends and +relatives. + +Nan Graham came from Syracuse, where she had charge of the department of +domestic science in the High School, in order to be with her brother +Anthony, whom she had not seen since his election. + +Edith Norton with her husband and four children still lived in Woodford +and claimed the intimacy of their Camp Fire days. Then, of course, there +was Herr Krippen and Mrs. Krippen and Betty's small stepbrother to be +considered, besides Mr. and Mrs. Wharton, Eleanor and Frank. + +But perhaps the most important and unexpected member of the Christmas +gathering was the distinguished and eccentric Doctor Sylvia Wharton. +Certainly it was Sylvia who kept Betty and Polly from being alone with +each other during her own brief visit. + +The morning of the day before Christmas Mollie got a letter from Sylvia, +who had charge of a hospital in Philadelphia, saying that much as she +regretted it she would be unable to spend Christmas with them. + +During the late afternoon Polly, who had escaped from the noise and +confusion going on inside Mollie's big house, was taking a walk up and +down the bare wind-swept orchard to the left of the house. The ground +was covered with hard white snow and the air stung with a kind of +delicious cold freshness. + +It was a part of Polly's regular duty to stay out of doors for a certain +number of hours each day, so she now stopped her walk for a moment and +glanced ahead at some almost blue-black pine trees silhouetted against +the twilight sky. + +Suddenly she became conscious of what sounded like a masculine step +behind her, and before she could turn around felt her two arms firmly +grasped by a pair of capable hands and herself swung slowly about. + +She faced a figure not so tall as her own, but broader, stronger and far +more sturdy. The blue eyes looked at her through a pair of spectacles, +the flaxen hair was parted in the middle and without the least sign of a +crinkle drawn straight back on either side. The mouth was firm, but +curiously kind. And just now it actually showed signs of trembling. + +"Why, Sylvia Wharton!" Polly said and straightway hid her face in the +fur of her stepsister's long coat. Immediately she had a feeling of +dependence on Sylvia's judgment and affection just as she had for so +long a time, although she was several years the older. + +"Don't try to hide your face from me, Polly O'Neill. I want to see how +you are looking before you get back into the house and do your best to +deceive me. I can feel already that you are thin as a rail," Dr. Sylvia +murmured severely. "You see if I don't straighten you out before you go +back to that wretched work again!" + +"It was good of you to come, Sylvia; I was so disappointed over your +letter this morning. Only I am not your patient, dear; I am quite all +right. It is 'Bobbin,' my poor little girl, I want you to look after and +find somebody to help," Polly returned with unaccustomed meekness. +"Really she is interesting and unusual. Both Mollie and Billy Webster +think so; it isn't only my foolishness. I suppose you thought my +bringing her east with me was rather mad, didn't you, Sylvia?" + +Sylvia smiled the slow smile that had always beautified her plain face. +"No, not mad, only Polly!" she answered dryly. "But of course I'll look +the little girl over for you, and then I'll find the best person to see +her and you can send her to me in Philadelphia. Only don't think you are +going to escape by that method yourself." + +On Christmas Eve all the grown-up members of the Christmas party dined +with Mrs. Ashton and Betty in the town of Woodford, since Mollie was to +have the tree and Christmas dinner for them and the children on the farm +the next day. + +It was an amusing change from the past to find that Anthony Graham and +Sylvia Wharton were really the lions of the evening. How different it +had been in the old days when Anthony was only an awkward, shabby, +obscure boy and Sylvia the plainest and most unprepossessing of the +Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls! + +Polly and Betty too, in spite of her wounded feelings, were both +immensely pleased and amused by it. + +Of course Sylvia would rather have died than have mentioned the fact, +but quite by accident Anthony had read the previous day of Sylvia's +election as President of the American Medical Society, the highest honor +that had ever been paid a woman in the medical profession in the United +States. + +Hearing the story at the dinner table, Sylvia was of course confused by +the admiration and applause it excited, for she was still as shy and +reserved about her own accomplishments as she had ever been as a young +girl. + +Moreover, it was Polly who recalled having once predicted that Sylvia +Wharton would become the most distinguished of the Camp Fire girls and +who made a little speech in her honor, much to the confusion and disgust +of Sylvia. + +Then Billy Webster offered their congratulations to Anthony, who was +almost equally modest about his own attainments and insisted that his +election as Governor was due to a happy accident and not to any possible +ability of his own. + +The Christmas day following was even more crowded with people and +excitement. Actually Mollie and Billy were to have thirty guests to dine +at the farm at two o'clock and the Christmas tree for the children was +to be given immediately after. + +Notwithstanding, Sylvia arranged to spend an hour alone with Polly and +Bobbin in a room at the top of the house where there could be no +interruption. + +She appeared to be deeply interested in Bobbin. She made Polly talk and +then saw how easily Bobbin seemed to be able to understand. Then she +asked questions herself which now and then the little girl was able to +comprehend. + +Polly explained that perchance Bobbin understood her better than other +people, because of her training as an actress, which of course required +her to enunciate more distinctly. However, Dr. Wharton made no reply and +after a time Bobbin was sent away to watch the children at play. + +Then Polly sat quietly in a big armchair, while Sylvia strode up and +down the room with her hands clasped behind her. They were both silent +for quite five minutes. + +Afterwards Sylvia spoke first. + +"I am by no means sure your little girl is entirely deaf, Polly," she +remarked abruptly. "But I am not an expert in the matter and I don't +want to trust my own judgment. I believe she hears indistinctly perhaps +and so has never learned to talk. Yet it would not surprise me if a +sudden shock of some kind might make her hear, and after that she would +learn to talk easily enough. But I'll discuss her case and we can see +about it later. Now you are to let me look you over." + +Of course Polly shrugged her shoulders and objected, insisting that she +was entirely well and that it was absurd to waste Sylvia's time. + +Nevertheless, as usual, Dr. Wharton had her way and at the end of a half +hour's examination Polly appeared pale and exhausted, while Sylvia +looked more satisfied. + +"You are not to go back on the stage again this winter, Miss O'Neill," +she announced decisively. "But you really are in better health than I +expected to find you. If you only would behave with a little more +sense!" + +Polly sighed, waving her accuser away. + +"Do go and let me rest now, please," she commanded. "You know I have +promised to recite for the children for an hour or so after dinner. And +I do wish my friends and family would stop asking me to behave with +better sense. How can I if I haven't got it? Everybody ought to be sorry +for me." + +Smiling, Sylvia departed. It was like old times to hear Polly talking in +her old aggrieved fashion when she knew herself to be really in the +wrong. But then Sylvia decided that she would probably always love Polly +more than any one else in the world, even if they saw each other so +seldom. For she never expected to marry herself and doubted now whether +Polly ever would. There had been a scare years before about a Richard +Hunt, but as Polly never mentioned his name now she must by this time +have forgotten him. + +The Christmas dinner and tree were a great success. After Polly had made +the children shriek with pleasure by playing a dozen characters from +Mother Goose, and the older people cry by reciting several exquisite +Christmas poems by Whitcomb Riley and Eugene Field, the guests then sang +Camp Fire songs until darkness descended. + +It was a pity, however, that Esther and Dick and their children were in +Boston and unable to come home for the holidays, for Esther's beautiful +voice was sadly needed in the music. + +But at six o'clock Sylvia was forced to leave for Philadelphia, and so +the other guests decided that it was time that the weary children should +be taken home. + +However, for one minute Polly and Betty did manage to slip over into a +corner and in that moment made an engagement to spend the whole of the +next afternoon together. Moreover, in order to get away from every one +else they planned to take a long walk to Sunrise Cabin. + +Nevertheless that same night each of the two friends lay awake for +several hours, firmly resolving not to tell the other the trouble that +lay nearest their hearts. For they both decided that they should have +gotten beyond their old girlhood confidences and that there were certain +things women should keep to themselves. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE STUPIDITY OF MEN + + +"BUT, my dear, there isn't the least use of your denying it. The fact +that you are unhappy is as plain as the nose on your face. Of course if +you don't want to tell me the reason you need not, but don't expect me +to be so stupid as not to see it," Polly concluded solemnly. + +Actually the two friends were in the time-honored old living room in +Sunrise Cabin. With their own hands they had brought in twigs and logs +from outdoors and lighted an enormous fire in the big fireplace. Then +Polly had produced three candles from her handbag and had stuck them +into the tarnished brass candlesticks that were still ornamenting the +mantel, where they were now burning fitfully. + +With their coats off both of the old Camp Fire girls sat on rickety +chairs before the fire, their chins resting in their hands and gazing +none too happily into the flames. + +"But I tell you, you are mistaken, Polly. There is nothing the matter +with me. Of course one can't expect to be happy when one grows older, as +in our old irresponsible Camp Fire days. Maybe it is old age that is +troubling me, for I am a most uninterestingly healthy person." + +In replying Betty tried to make her tones as light as possible; +nevertheless her companion only frowned the more unbelievingly. + +"Our Camp Fire days were never irresponsible ones for me, Betty child," +Polly responded, gazing thoughtfully around the dear, dismantled room. +"Often I feel I never learned so much at any other time in my life as I +did then. But the fact remains that you are not happy as I want you to +be, and I wish with all my heart that you loved me enough to tell me the +reason why. You see, Betty, I am rather a lonely, good-for-nothing old +maid and I can't expect much for myself. But you have absolutely +everything in the world any woman could wish. And I think it is +positively wicked of you not to be the same gay, sweet Betty." + +At this Polly got out a small handkerchief and began dabbing her Irish +blue eyes, that were shedding tears partly from the smoke of the fire +and partly from a general sense of discouragement. + +In return Betty stared back at her with equal severity. "What a +perfectly absurd fashion for you to talk, Polly O'Neill!" she replied. +"You know perfectly well that if you had chosen to marry you might have +had what I have. Only you didn't want to marry; you wanted a career and +to be famous and to make money instead. Well, haven't you succeeded? Is +that what you are crying about?" + +Polly nodded. "I expect there isn't any law about wanting everything, is +there, Betty Ashton Graham? So long as women are women, no matter what +they may try to do or be, there will be times when they cry for nice +husbands and babies. But I wasn't crying about me, it was about you," +she continued ungrammatically and with her usual logic. "Here you are +growing more beautiful every day you live. Everybody loves you; you have +hundreds of friends, the two most fascinating children in the world, +except Mollie's, and a husband who is about the best and cleverest man +in the state, and who simply adores you, and yet you are wretched and +cross and unlike yourself. I watched you yesterday, Betty, and you never +smiled a single time when you thought no one was looking and you never +once spoke to Anthony. The poor fellow appeared dreadfully troubled too. +Whatever is the matter, I am much sorrier for him than I am for you," +Polly concluded somewhat vindictively. + +"Oh!" Betty faltered and then was so silent that Polly humped her stool +nearer until her shoulder touched that of her friend. + +"That last remark wasn't true, of course, Betty," Polly apologized. "For +if Anthony is really a snake in the grass and treats you badly when he +looks so noble and kind, why, I shall simply come to Concord and tell +him what I think of him right in the Governor's mansion. I don't care +whether he puts me into the state prison or not." + +Then, although she had been tremblingly near tears herself the moment +before, Betty was compelled to laugh. Whoever could do anything else in +Polly O'Neill's society? The thought of Anthony's thrusting a very +noisy and protesting Polly into prison was a picture to dispel almost +any degree of gloom. + +Betty slipped her arm across her friend's shoulder. "No, dear, you must +not think Anthony is unkind to me; it isn't that," she responded slowly. +"Only I don't believe he exactly 'adores' me as much as he used to. +Sometimes men get tired of their wives." + +"Nonsense, goose! What put that notion in your head?" Polly returned +lightly, although she was a little frightened by her friend's reply. + +Really she had not believed that anything could have come between +Anthony and Betty. Her suggestion had only been made in order to induce +Betty to deny it. The next moment she leaned over and put several fresh +logs on the fire. + +"Nothing and no one in this world could ever persuade me, Betty dearest, +that Anthony does not adore you," Polly then continued with convincing +earnestness. "You see, he began when you were sixteen years old and he +never knew that any other girl lived in the world. He does not know it +now, for he never even glanced at a single one of us yesterday, if he +could help it. But you see Princess, dear, you are a good deal spoiled. +You always have been ever since you were a baby, by your family and all +your friends. Even the Camp Fire Club used to look up to you and be more +devoted to you than any one else. Esther has always been your slave and +now your little French girl seems to feel about you just as Esther used +to do. Really, Betty, I expect you need discipline." + +Yet even as she spoke Betty's auburn hair glistened with such exquisite +colors in the firelight that Polly stroked it softly with her slender +fingers. + +The Governor's wife was thinking too deeply to notice her. + +"I wonder if things are my fault, Polly. I almost hope they are," she +answered wistfully. "You see, it has seemed to me lately that Anthony +has been dreadfully unreasonable. He won't do the things I ask him to +and though he is too busy to be with me himself, he isn't willing for me +to spend much time even with my oldest friends." + +"Oh, ho!" whistled Polly softly. "What friends, for instance, Princess?" + +"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 fashion 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 passed lightly over her face. + +The next instant and Billy jumped up and seized hold of the intruder. + +Yet his hands clasped only a slight, childish form in a white gown. It +was too dark in the room to see who it could be until Mollie lit the +candle which stood always by their bedside. + +Then they both discovered Bobbin, not walking in her sleep as they +supposed, but with her face very white and making queer little movements +with her hands and lips. + +"The child is frightened; something must have to disturbed her," Billy +suggested, still only half awake himself. + +But Mollie had jumped out of bed and was already on her way to the +nursery. Naturally she presumed that something had happened to one of +the children and that Bobbin had come to call her. Poor little girl, she +had no other way of calling than to touch with her hands! + +However, half way down the hall Mollie turned and ran back into her own +bedroom. + +"Get up please, Billy, in a hurry, won't you? I do believe I smell smoke +somewhere in the house. Something must be on fire. Of course Bobbin +could detect it before the rest of us; she is sure to have a keener +sense of smell." + +A moment later and Billy had jumped almost all the way down the long +flight of old-fashioned country stairs. + +"Don't be frightened, dear, but get the children up and put clothes on +them," he shouted back. "It is too cold for you to go out in the snow +undressed and we are miles from a neighbor. I will call the men and we +will fight the fire. Don't forget to waken Polly!" + +With this last injunction in her mind Mollie stopped to hammer on her +sister's door before she ran on to the nursery. + +She was certain that she heard Polly answer her. Besides, by this time +the house was filled with an excited tumult, Mollie's little boys were +dancing about in the hall, half pleased and half frightened with the +excitement, their nurse was scolding and crying and vainly endeavoring +to dress the small Polly. + +So it was plain enough that for the next few minutes Mollie had +difficulty enough in keeping her wits about her and in quieting her +family, especially as every now and then she could hear her husband's +voice from below calling on her to hurry as quickly as possible. + +Only Bobbin at once slipped into a heavy, long coat and shoes and rushed +back to Polly's room. The door was locked, but she pounded patiently and +automatically on the outside, unable, of course, to hear the answering +voice from within. + +Then there came a sudden hoarse shout from below stairs and in that +instant Mr. Webster, dashing up a flight of steps almost at one bound, +returned with the baby in his arms, while Mollie led one of the small +boys and the nurse the other. + +"Come on, you and Polly, at once!" Mollie cried, waving her hands and +pointing toward the great hall to show that there was no time for +further delay. + +But this was evident enough to Bobbin without being told, for the smoke +was pouring out of the parlor into the hall and coming up the stairs +like a great advancing army. + +However, Bobbin would not leave her post. There was not the faintest +thought in her brain of ever stirring from without that locked door +until the one person whom she loved in the world should come forth from +it. And she was not conscious of feeling particularly afraid, only she +could not understand why Miss O'Neill would not hurry. + +A moment later, however, and Bobbin found herself outside standing alone +in the snow. + +There had been no possible outcry on her part, no explanation and no +argument, of course. Only when one of the farm laborers rushing +up-stairs had seen the little girl loitering in the hall, without saying +by your leave, he had seized her in his arms and borne her struggling +through the now stifling smoke. + +Outside in the yard Bobbin for a moment felt weak and confused. For all +at once the place seemed to be swarming with excited people. + +There were a dozen men and their families living on the big farm with +houses of their own. And now the ringing of a great bell had brought +them all out with their wives and children as well. + +The women were swarming about Mollie with their children, crying, +gesticulating, talking. It was a clear, white night and Bobbin could +see them easily. The men were engaged in rushing back and forth with +pails of water, fearing that the water might freeze on the way. + +But there was nowhere any sign of Polly! + +Bobbin did not try to attract attention. In the instant it did not even +occur to her that she might not have been able to make any one +understand. Simply and without being seen she slipped into one of the +big front windows, opened by the men as a passage-way, and started +fighting her way again up the black, smoke-laden steps. + +There seemed to be no more air, it was all a thick, foggy substance that +got into your throat and made you unable to breathe and into your eyes +so that you could not see. But Bobbin went resolutely on. + +She clung to the banisters and dragged herself upward, either too stupid +or too intent on her errand to suffer fear. Nevertheless, through the +smoke she could see that long tongues of flame were bursting out of the +doors of the back parlor into the hall beneath her. + +Only, once more at Polly's bedroom door Bobbin lost heart and the only +real terror she ever remembered enduring seized hold on her. For Polly's +door was still locked and she had no means of making her hear. + +All that she could accomplish by hammering and kicking she had done +before. Of course, she tried this again, yet the door did not open and +so far as Bobbin could know there was no movement from the inside. + +Yet next Miss O'Neill's room there was her own room and the door of this +was unfastened. With a kind of half-blind impulse Bobbin staggered into +it. She had no clear or definite idea of what she intended doing, yet +fortunately this room was only partially filled with smoke so that she +could in a measure see her way about. + +There in the corner stood an old-fashioned, heavy wooden chair. Almost +instinctively Bobbin seized hold on it. She was curiously strong, doubly +so to any other girl of her age, since she had lived outdoors always +like a little barbarian. Besides, there was nothing else that could be +done. She must break down Miss O'Neill's door. + +With all her force the girl hurled the heavy chair against the oak door. +There were a few marks on its surface, yet the door remained absolutely +firm, for the Webster house had been built in the days when wood had +been plentiful in the New Hampshire hills and homes had been expected to +endure. + +Nevertheless Bobbin pounded again and again, almost automatically her +thin arms seemed to work, and yet all her effort was without avail. + +During these moments no one can guess exactly what emotions tore at the +girl's heart. If only she could have cried out her alarm and her desire, +surely she would have been answered! + +Bobbin's face worked strangely, there was a kind of throbbing in her +ears and her lips moved. "Polly!" she called in a hoarse little whisper, +and this was the first word she had ever spoken in her life. + +Inside in her smoke-filled room Polly O'Neill could not possibly have +heard her. For the past fifteen minutes, during all the excitement due +to the fire, she had been lying upon her bed in a stifled condition. For +no one had realized that as Polly's room was immediately above the back +parlor, where the fire had been smouldering ever since the children had +gone up-stairs to bed, her room had been first to be filled with smoke. +Yet the smoke had come so slowly, so gradually as she lay in a kind of +exhausted sleep, that she had been stupefied rather than awakened by it. + +Now was it the miracle rather than the sound of Bobbin's speaking her +name that penetrated slowly to Polly's consciousness, or was it the +noise of the repeated pounding of the heavy chair against her door? +Whatever the cause, she came back to the world, choking, blinded, +fighting with her hands to keep off the black substance that was +crowding into her lungs. + +Then somehow she managed to crawl across her room, remembering that the +smoke would be denser higher up in the atmosphere. Unlocking the door, +she turned the handle and Bobbin caught her as she half fell into the +hall. + +With a quick movement the girl put her arm about the older woman's waist +and started for the stairway, for the hall was dense with smoke and now +and then a tongue of flame leaped up from below and seemed to dance for +a moment in the air about them. + +It was overpowering, unendurable. Polly was already dazed and exhausted +and her lungs were always delicate. At the top of the stairs she became +a dead weight on her companion's arms. Besides, by this time Bobbin too +was very weary. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE DISCOVERY + + +A FEW moments after Bobbin's disappearance inside the house Mollie +O'Neill had suddenly torn herself away from the people closed about her +in their effort to hide from her eyes the possible destruction of her +home. + +She looked searchingly around her. + +"Polly!" she called, "Polly!" For the first moment since the fire +started, she seemed to be losing her self-control. For all at once it +had come to her in a terrifying flash that she had not caught a glimpse +of her sister since the moment when she had gone up-stairs at eight +o'clock to retire to bed. + +Nevertheless Polly must be somewhere near by. She must have heard her +calling and she had had plenty of time to escape, more than any one +else, as she had no one else to look after save herself. Yet it was not +like Polly not to have come at once to her aid with the children! + +Mollie ran here and there about the yard, still crying out her sister's +name, horror and conviction growing upon her at every step. + +At last she caught sight of her husband directing half a dozen men and +caught hold of his arm. + +"Billy, Polly is still inside the house, locked in her own room. Don't +ask me how I know it, I do. We have got to go in and get her." And +Mollie started quickly toward the front porch, until her husband flung +his arms about her. + +"Wait here, Mollie," he said sternly. "You will do no good, only make +things harder for me. If Polly is inside the house, as you say, I'll +have her out in a jiffy." + +Then he called to one of the men. "Keep Mrs. Webster here. On no account +let her follow me," he commanded, and glancing about in every direction +as he ran, he too made for the house. + +Assuredly Mollie was right. Neither had he gotten even a passing glimpse +of Polly since the alarm of fire. But was it going to be so simple a +matter to rescue her as he had pretended to his wife? For certainly if +Polly had heard nothing of the tumult and danger surrounding her she +must be already hurt and unconscious. + +Once inside his own hall Billy Webster squared his great shoulders. The +way ahead of him now looked like a pathway of flame and yet the smoke +was harder to endure than the heat. Nevertheless go through it he must, +since Polly's room lay at the head of the stairs. + +She must be saved. Billy had a sudden vision of Polly from her girlhood +until now; her wilfulness, her charm and her great talent. How stupidly +he had opposed her desire to be an actress in the days when he had +supposed himself in love with Polly O'Neill instead of her twin sister! +Well, now they understood each other and were friends and she should not +come to grief in his house. + +In his pocket there was a wet handkerchief. Indeed, all his clothes were +fortunately damp from the water that had been splashed upon him in the +work outdoors. Quickly the man tied the handkerchief about his mouth. +Then he took a few steps forward and paused. There was a noise of +something falling from above; possibly some of the timbers of the old +house were beginning to give way. Could they be under Polly's room? + +But even while he thought, Billy Webster fought his way deliberately +forward until he at last reached the bottom of the stairs and then his +feet struck something soft and yielding. Stooping down, he caught up two +figures in his arms, not one! + +For in that moment at the head of the stairs when Polly had lost +consciousness Bobbin had managed to half carry, half drag her on a part +of the way. Then realizing that her own strength was failing, with +instinctive good sense and courage she had flung them both forward, so +that they both slid inertly down to the bottom of the stairs. + +Instantly and without feeling their weight the man carried the woman and +girl out of doors. + +Poor Bobbin, whom in these last terrible moments they had forgotten! Yet +she it was who had remembered better than them all! + +Nevertheless, although both Polly and Bobbin were unconscious, neither +of them was seriously burned. Yet Mollie was dreadfully disturbed. Polly +had come to visit them on account of her health, and there was no way of +foretelling what effect this night's experience might have upon her. +Here she was in her night dress, outdoors in the cold, when the rest of +them were warmly clothed. + +However, in another moment Polly was comfortably wrapped in a long coat +and carried to the nearest house of one of the farm assistants. Bobbin +too was equally well looked after, and as soon as she had been in the +fresh air for a few moments the girl's breath had come back to her and +she was soon almost herself again. + +Yet by this time all the women and children had grown tired, for there +was nothing that they could do. Five minutes before, Mollie's two boys +and little girl and nurse had been taken away and put to bed by one of +the farmer's wives. Moreover, real assistance was arriving at last. + +In the excitement some one had been intelligent enough to get to the +telephone in the dining room before the fire had crept in that +direction. The town of Woodford had promised to send help. Even now the +volunteer fire department of the village with an engine and hose +carriage was trampling over the snow-covered lawns of the old Webster +homestead. + +A quarter of an hour later a physician appeared and also Betty and +Anthony Graham. Afterwards actually there were dozens of Mollie's and +Billy's friends who drove out in their motor cars to take the family +home with them, or to do whatever was possible for their relief and +comfort. + +By this time the fire in the old house had been vanquished and the earth +was filled with the cold grayness of approaching dawn. + +Mollie would see no one but Betty, who stayed on with her and the +physician in the room given up to Polly. Mrs. Wharton had been persuaded +not to come, and Anthony Graham had gone back to town to make things +clear to her. + +"It is just like Polly to be such a ridiculously long time in coming to +herself," Betty explained to her frightened friend. "I don't think it +means anything in the least alarming." Yet all the time she was wishing +that the physician who held Polly's thin wrist, counting her pulse, +would not look so deadly serious. + +However, no matter what she might fear herself, Mollie must be +strengthened and comforted. Her nerves had given way under the recent +strain and fright. It was almost impossible for her to keep her teeth +from chattering and she was unable to stand up. Notwithstanding, nothing +would persuade her to leave her sister's room. + +"For if anything serious is the matter with Polly, of course if will be +my fault and I shall never forgive myself," she would repeat over and +over. "You see, I forgot Polly; it was only Bobbin who remembered." + +Finally, however, there was a sign from the doctor by Polly's bedside +which Betty managed to intercept. Without a word to Mollie she slipped +across the room to find Polly's eyes wide open and staring in perplexity +at her. + +"What on earth has happened, Betty?" she demanded impatiently, although +her voice was so faint it was difficult to hear. "What are you and +Mollie and I doing in a room I never saw before, with me feeling as if I +had been out of the world and then gotten only half-way back into it +again?" + +At the sound of her sister's voice Mollie had also moved toward the bed. +She was distressingly white, her soft blue eyes had dark circles around +them and she seemed utterly spent and exhausted. + +Quickly Polly reached out her weak hand. + +"What is it, Mollie Mavourneen?" she asked nervously, using the name of +their childhood. + +Then before either woman replied: "Oh, I remember," she said faintly. +"There was a dreadful lot of smoke in my room and I got to the door +somehow. Bobbin was there and I can't recall anything else." + +This time Polly's fingers clung tightly. + +"Was any one injured? Was your lovely house burned down?" she inquired. + +But Mollie could only shake her head, while the tears ran slowly down +her soft cheeks. + +However, Betty spoke reassuringly. "It is all right, Polly dear. No one +is in the least hurt. We were afraid for a while you had been stifled +by the smoke, but you are perfectly well now. And Billy says the house +has been saved. Of course, it has been a good deal damaged inside, but +that can soon be restored." + +Polly smiled. "Then for goodness sake do put Mollie to bed! She looks +like a ghost and I am terribly sleepy myself. I have been ever since +eight o'clock last night and I've no doubt it is now nearly morning." + +Yet, as her sister and friend were tiptoeing softly away, Polly beckoned +Betty to come back to her. + +"Bobbin saved my life, didn't she?" she inquired gently. "I don't think +I should ever have gotten down that dreadful smoke-filled hall except +for her." + +Silently Betty nodded; for the moment she did not feel able to speak, +because the story of Bobbin's courage and devotion had touched her very +deeply. + +"It is like bread cast upon the waters, isn't it?" Polly murmured +faintly. "It returns to one buttered." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +ONCE MORE IN CONCORD + + +BUT as Polly did not immediately recover from the shock and exposure of +the fire, Betty Graham did not return home with her family to Concord. + +Anthony took the nurse and children and Faith Barton accompanied them, +in order to keep Angelique from being lonely, she explained. However, +her real desire, of course, was to be able to see as much as possible of +Kenneth Helm. + +Nevertheless, the carrying on of her romance with the same secrecy as +she had first observed was not so easy now, nor did it seem to Faith so +desirable as in the beginning. Yet Kenneth still implored her to say +nothing for a short while longer. In a few weeks perhaps things would be +all right with him, so that he would have sufficient money not to worry +over the future. Then, of course, they could explain the reason for +their silence. In the meantime, however, perhaps they had best be a +little more careful, for people were noticing their intimacy and +beginning to talk. Indeed, Faith's chief difficulty was that her foster +parents, Rose and Doctor Barton, had observed her marked interest in +Kenneth Helm during his Christmas visit with them and had asked Faith if +there was anything between them. + +Naturally this placed the girl in a painfully trying position. She was +devotedly fond of both Rose and Doctor Barton, who were in reality not +old enough to be her parents, although they had always treated her like +an adored child, giving in to most of her whims and wishes. But while +Faith was selfish and considered her own dreams and desires of the +utmost importance, she was neither ungrateful nor unloving, nor fond of +deceiving the people for whom she cared. The trouble was that she was +too much under Kenneth Helm's influence, else she would never have +consented to keeping their engagement a secret. + +Faith was not aware of the fact, but in reality it was Kenneth who had +made the concealment of their affection for each other appear romantic +and alluring to her eyes. Often she had longed to confide the news to +Betty after Angel had proved so unexpectedly unsympathetic. However, +having given her word to Kenneth, she felt in duty bound to keep it, and +moreover she was the least bit afraid of him. + +The real truth of the matter was that Faith Barton was more in love with +Kenneth than he was with her. Not that Faith was unattractive, but +because Kenneth was incapable of caring a great deal for any one except +himself. + +In the beginning he had been greatly interested, for Faith was pretty +and full of a great many amusing ideas and ideals. Moreover, at the time +she was a favored member of Governor Graham's family and might turn out +to be useful. But Kenneth had no actual desire to marry any one for the +present and had not at first taken their engagement seriously. Recently, +however, discovering that Faith was desperately in earnest and that she +might at any moment announce the fact to her family and friends, the +young man had been extremely uncomfortable. More than once he had +reproached himself for not having made a friend of Angelique instead of +Faith. She was not nearly so pretty, but she was cleverer and she might +have been more helpful. + +Indeed, Kenneth rather admired the fashion in which Angel had kept her +word with him and had not reported the fact of his presence in the +Governor's study on the night of the Inaugural Ball. Besides she had +never referred to his accusation against her, so there was no doubt that +the little French girl was a true sport, whatever else she might be. + +Moreover, when Governor Graham and his family returned to the Governor's +mansion it was plain enough that Angel must have enjoyed some good +fortune in their absence. She seemed to have cast off her embarrassment +and chagrin over the suspicion which had rested upon her, and no one had +ever seen her so happy or so gay. + +Before little Bettina had been at home five minutes she and Angelique +had vanished up-stairs together and were soon locked fast in the big +nursery. + +Then Angel straightway drew a large envelope out of her pocket and began +waving it before Bettina's astonished eyes. Naturally the little girl +had no idea that a letter could be so very important, not even so large +a one as Angel's. + +An instant later and she was the more mystified, for her companion had +slipped a long, rather narrow piece of paper, with queer scrawls written +upon it, out of the envelope and was also holding it up for her audience +to admire. + +Bettina smiled politely although a trifle wistfully. It was hard luck +not being able to read anything except printed letters when one was as +old as six. However, her mother and father did not wish her to become a +student too early in life. + +"It is a very nice letter, Angel, if it makes you so glad," Bettina +remarked gently; "only there does not seem to be a great deal of writing +on it." + +Then the older girl threw her arm about her little friend's neck and +hugged her close. + +"Of course you don't understand, darling, and it's hateful of me to +tease you," she protested. "But that piece of paper is a check; it +represents two hundred whole dollars, the most money I have ever had at +once in my life. And do you know how I got it? Our little picture of +'Snow White and Rose Red' received the prize in the magazine contest. I +had a letter, too, saying that though it was not the best drawing, it +was the loveliest little girl. So you see it was really all because of +you, Bettina, that I got the prize!" + +Then Angel did another mysterious thing. She made Bettina close her eyes +very tight and while they were closed she clasped something around her +neck which fastened with a tiny click. Then on opening them the little +girl discovered a shining gold heart outside her white dress, and in the +center of the heart a small, clear stone that glittered like a star. + +"I got it for you; it is your Christmas present from me, Bettina," Angel +explained. "And I want you to try and keep it always so that you may not +forget 'Snow White and Rose Red.' Only please don't tell any one of my +having gotten the prize until your mother comes home; I want her to know +first." + +Naturally Bettina promised and having promised she was not a child who +ever broke her word. Perhaps the request was an unfortunate one under +the circumstances, and yet how could Angel ever have imagined such a +possibility? + +A few days later, coming into his wife's private sitting room, which was +next her bedroom, quite by accident Governor Graham happened to catch +sight of a beautiful new silver bowl which he did not recall having seen +before. Then besides its newness it had a card lying inside which +attracted his attention. + +"Some one has sent Betty a Christmas gift which she probably knows +nothing of," Anthony thought carelessly. "I must write and tell her of +it." Casually he picked up the card and saw Angelique Martins' name +engraved upon it. + +The next moment he looked at the bowl more attentively. Of course he +knew very little of these matters, yet this present struck him as being +an exceedingly expensive one from a girl in Angelique's position. She +received a very small salary for her work and she must have many needs +of her own. + +Then Governor Graham frowned uneasily, for he had suddenly remembered +that Bettina had exhibited a beautiful little gold chain and necklace +which her adored Angel had recently given her. How had the girl acquired +so much money all at once? Really he preferred not to have to consider +such a question, and yet it might possibly become his duty. + +Sitting down in front of the fire, Anthony tried to forget his +annoyances in smoking a cigar, but found it impossible. + +The close of the Christmas holidays had not made his responsibilities +less; indeed, they were crowding more thickly upon him. The lost papers +had not been found and in another week ex-Governor Peyton, Jack Emmet +and John Everett would have their bill before the Legislature. They had +many friends and unless he were able to prove their dishonesty the bill +might be passed in spite of the Governor's objections. + +Finally Anthony glanced toward the mantel-piece where by chance his eyes +rested upon a photograph of Betty. + +Immediately his expression changed. "I shall write Betty of this whole +business tonight," he announced out loud, in his determination. "I have +been an utter idiot to have kept the situation from her for so long a +time. I have wondered recently if perhaps she was not quite so fond of +me because I was taking her less into my confidence? Goodness knows, +that is the only sensible thing for a man and wife to do! Besides, Betty +seemed more like her old self when we were in Woodford and so perhaps I +can make her understand how I hate to seem hard on her old friends. But +in any case this suspicion that Kenneth Helm has fastened in my mind +against Angel must be looked into by Betty. Angel is a young girl and +Betty has been like her older sister. Whatever she has done, I don't +know that I would have the courage to disgrace her, but perhaps Betty +may be able to persuade the child to return the letters to us if she has +taken them. Heigh-ho! It will be a relief to me at least to have the +Princess take hold of this situation for me." + +And Governor Graham spent the entire evening in his sitting room writing +to his wife until after midnight. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THINGS ARE CLEARED UP + + +AS Polly was a little better, immediately upon receipt of her husband's +letter Betty hurried home. + +First she and Anthony had a long talk together until things were once +more quite clear and happy between them. + +Of course Anthony insisted that he had been unreasonable and that Betty +was a "Counsel of Perfection" just as he had always believed her; +nevertheless the Princess was by no means ready to agree with him; nor +was Polly's little sermon in Sunrise Cabin ever entirely forgotten. + +Naturally Betty was grieved to hear that Anthony considered her old +friend, John Everett, and also Meg's husband, Jack Emmet, dishonest; yet +when he had carefully explained all his reasons for thinking so, she was +finally convinced. + +Not for a single instant, however, would she consider the bare +possibility of Angelique Martins' having had anything to do with the +loss of the Governor's important letters. She had known Angel too long +and too well and trusted her entirely. Besides, she had been one of her +own Camp Fire girls who had kept the Camp Fire laws and gained its not +easily acquired honors. + +So Betty Graham did the only intelligent thing in all such difficulties +and suspicions--she went directly to Angel and told her that she +believed in her, but asked that they might discuss the whole matter. She +even told her that she and Governor Graham had both wondered at her +having a sum of money which she could scarcely have earned through her +work. + +The woman and the girl were in Betty's pretty sitting room when they had +their long talk. It was their first meeting without other people being +present since Mrs. Graham's return. And Angel sat on a little stool at +her friend's feet with her dark eyes gazing directly into those of her +dearest friend. + +It was good to have this opportunity for confidences. Angel breathed a +sigh of relief when she learned that the Governor had confessed his own +suspicion to his wife. For she had never a moment's fear that Betty +might fail in faith toward her. Of course, she had never seen the +missing letters and had no idea what could have become of them. + +Perhaps it was curious, yet not even to the Governor's wife did +Angelique during this interview speak of her own distrust of Kenneth +Helm. She was hardly conscious of the exact reasons for her reticence, +except she had no possible proof against Kenneth, and Betty and the +Governor were both fond of him. Moreover, it seemed a disloyalty to +Faith Barton to suspect the man to whom Faith had given her affection. + +But Angel was very happy to explain where she had acquired her recent +wealth and Betty was as happy and proud as only Betty Graham could be of +her friends' good fortunes. She could hardly wait to see the picture, of +course, and registered an unspoken vow that Angel should have art +lessons when she had so much talent, no matter how much the girl herself +might oppose the idea. Certainly she and Anthony would owe this much to +their little friend for even the faintest doubt of her. + +But Angel had other information which she was even more shy in +confessing. It did not amount to very much at present, only she and +Horace Everett had taken a great fancy to each other during Horace's +stay in Concord for the Christmas holidays. She had seen him nearly +every day and Horace had made no secret of his liking for her. He had +not exactly proposed, but had told her that he meant to as soon as he +had known her long enough to make it proper. + +It was all very beautiful and unexpected to Angelique, for she had +seldom dreamed of any one's caring for her in just this particular way. +And that it should be so splendid a person as Horace Everett made +everything more wonderful. Of course, Angel could not be so unhappy as +she had been before Christmas; nevertheless, for Betty's and Governor +Graham's sake she felt that the mystery of the lost letters must be +cleared up within the next few days. + +There was only one piece of information, however, which Betty had given +her that offered any possible clue to the enigma. Governor Graham +believed that whoever had taken the letters had probably sold them to +the three men who would most profit by their disappearance. + +Yet Angel had no experience in the work of a detective and could only +hope to be of use, without the faintest idea of how she might manage it. + +There was one thing, however, which Angelique regarded as her absolute +duty after her own talk with Betty Graham. She simply must endeavor to +be better friends with Faith Barton. For somehow Betty's faith and +affection for her had served to remind her of her almost forgotten Camp +Fire loyalties. + +Kinder than any one else except Betty, Faith had certainly been to her +long ago, when she had first come, ill and a stranger, to Sunrise Cabin. +Besides, what had Faith ever done except be a little selfish and +unreasonable of late, and Angel knew that she was troubled by her own +affairs? + +It was only a few nights after her own interview with Betty, when one +evening immediately after dinner, Angel went up alone to Faith's room +for the first time since their misunderstanding. She did not know +whether Faith would care to see her, but she meant to try. For Faith had +not dined with the rest of the family; she had sent down word that she +had a headache and desired to be left alone. + +Nevertheless, when she discovered who it was who was knocking at her +door, she grudgingly said, "Come in." + +The truth was that Faith was unhappy and needed consolation. She had +never had any trouble in her life before without some one to comfort +her, and now possibly Angel was the only person who could be of service, +since Angel alone knew her secret. + +Faith was sitting up in bed looking very pretty in a pale blue cashmere +dressing gown with a cap of white muslin and lace on her fair hair. Yet +she had plainly been crying, for her eyes and nose were both a little +red. Moreover, she had eaten no dinner, as a tray of food sat untouched +on a small table close beside her. + +So Angel's first effort was quietly to persuade Faith to have something +to eat. Then she led her to talking of Woodford and the Christmas with +Rose and Doctor Barton. And within a few moments Faith was again in +tears. + +It could not be very wrong, she then decided, to confide what was +worrying her to so insignificant a person as Angel. Surely even Kenneth +could not resent this! + +So Faith revealed the fact that she had recently received a letter from +Rose Barton and that Rose had asked her again if she felt any unusual +interest in Kenneth Helm. Rose had been very kind and had said more than +once that she did not wish to force Faith's confidence. Only she cared +for her and her happiness so much that she hoped Faith would keep no +secret of this kind from her. + +And Faith had gone immediately with this letter to Kenneth Helm, begging +him that she at least be allowed to confess their engagement to the two +friends who had been almost more than a father and mother to her. + +However, Kenneth had absolutely and flatly refused and Faith could not +make up her mind what she should do. + +Without a word or a sign Angelique heard the entire story through, +although she was secretly raging with indignation against Kenneth and +wondering how Faith could possibly be so much under his influence that +she seemed to have no mind or will of her own. + +Moreover, even after Faith had ended her story and sat evidently waiting +for some comment from her companion, Angel could think of nothing to say +that would be sufficiently circumspect. For if she even so much as +breathed a word against Kenneth, Faith would probably be exceedingly +angry and rally to his defence at once. So the little French girl sat +motionless on the side of the bed, staring rather stupidly at the wall +opposite her. + +By and by, however, Faith leaned over and put her arms about her. + +"Tell me, Angel, just what you would do if you were in my place?" the +girl pleaded. "Really, I am so miserable I can't decide." + +Angel looked at her earnestly. "Do you really mean that?" she queried. +And when Faith bowed her head, she answered decisively: + +"Why, if I were you, I should simply write to Kenneth Helm tonight and +say to him that he was either to allow you to tell Rose and Doctor +Barton of your engagement or else you would consider your engagement +broken." + +Faith caught her breath and then her cheeks flushed. + +"Would you mind getting me some paper and the pen and ink out of my +desk?" she returned quietly. + +And Angel, almost dazed by the quickness with which the other girl had +accepted her suggestion, at once walked over to her desk. But the drawer +of the desk which contained the paper had stuck and as she had only one +hand (the other held her cane) she had to tug and tug at it before it +would come loose. + +Then of course it behaved in the usual fashion. For suddenly the entire +drawer plunged forward and every single thing it contained scattered +over the floor. There were letters and papers and ribbons and +photographs and pens and pencils and powder puffs. + +[Illustration: SHE SPRANG OUT OF BED HERSELF THE NEXT MOMENT] + +"Oh, I am so sorry, Faith dear! I am the most awkward person in the +whole world," Angel apologized. "But if you'll just forgive me I'll +clear up in half a minute." + +Faith smiled a little restlessly as her friend stooped to her task. + +However, she sprang out of bed herself the next moment, for Angel had +picked up a package from the floor which had a blue paper and a rubber +band about it and was also marked with the Governor's official seal. + +Faith tried to jerk the letters from her friend's hand. + +"Put those down at once, Angel!" she commanded angrily. "Why don't you +do as I tell you? Those papers are not mine; I am keeping them for +Kenneth Helm. He told me they were of the most private nature possible +and that no one was to be allowed to see them." + +However, even after this stern injunction, the French girl did not give +up the package of letters. Instead, without Faith's being aware of her +intention, she kept edging nearer and nearer toward the door which led +into the hall and so farther along to Betty's and Governor Graham's +rooms. She remembered that they had also gone up-stairs together after +dinner. And her hope was that they had not yet left the house. + +Then suddenly she turned, and running faster than she ever had since her +lameness she got out of Faith's bedroom and was on her way to her +desired destination. + +Moreover, for the moment Faith made no effort to follow her, for she +believed Angel to have lost her senses. + +Why should she desire to run away with Kenneth Helm's private papers? +Faith could even now hear Angel's cane tapping its way rapidly along the +hall. + +Then she ran to the door and stuck her head out, calling the other girl +to return. She didn't quite dare follow her, for she had on only her +night-dress and dressing gown and the servants or Governor Graham might +probably see her. + +For another half hour Faith had to remain in anger and suspense. Of +course, she dressed as quickly as possible and went to Angel's room, but +Angel was not there, neither could she be discovered in either of the +children's nurseries or in any room on the ground floor. + +At last in desperation Faith knocked on Mrs. Graham's sitting room door. +It was Betty herself who answered the knock, although Faith caught a +glimpse of Angelique Martins standing with the Governor under a +rose-colored electric light and thought they both looked unusually +cheerful. + +Moreover, it was Betty and not Angel who returned to the bedroom with +Faith. + +Just as carefully and as kindly as she could Betty then explained the +importance of Angel's discovery to her guest. She said that it was very +hard indeed for them to believe that Kenneth Helm had stolen these +letters, since Governor Graham had felt every confidence in him. +However, if Faith declared that Kenneth had given her the letters for +safe-keeping, there was nothing else for them to believe. He must have +demanded a larger sum of money for the papers than the other men were +willing to pay him. Therefore, it had evidently been his intention to +keep them until the last moment in order to accomplish his end. + +Of course, this statement of Betty Graham's at the time was only a +surmise on the part of her husband, notwithstanding it turned out to be +the correct one. + +For Kenneth Helm finally confessed the truth himself in the face of the +evidence which Governor Graham held against him. His only excuse was the +dangerous and disastrous one that he had longed to grow rich sooner than +he could with the everyday grind of a business career. + +So, after all, Faith Barton wrote her letter on the same evening she had +intended. Betty's and Angel's and Governor Graham's suspicions of +Kenneth, besides the facts themselves, were more than enough to convince +her judgment, especially when her heart had been having its own +misgivings for some time past. + +It was in entire meekness of spirit and yet in thanksgiving that Faith +Barton decided upon breaking off her engagement, which she was glad +never to have acknowledged to any one save Angelique Martins. Angel, she +knew, would never betray her. Nevertheless, before Faith had been at +home twenty-four hours she had confessed the entire story to Rose Barton +and together they had wept over her fortunate escape. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +FINIS + + +POLLY O'NEILL was on her sister's front porch reading a letter from +Doctor Sylvia Wharton. It was now spring time. + +Sylvia had written that Bobbin was getting on at school in the most +amazing fashion. Not only could she now pronounce Polly's name but +hundreds of others, and she could certainly hear better than she had +several months before. + +Nevertheless, Polly let the letter slide out of her hand and the tears +came to her eyes. She was not sad, however, only so extremely glad for +Bobbin's sake and for her own. + +"After all, perhaps I am not so entirely selfish a human being as some +persons believe me," she announced to herself with a shrug of her +shoulders. "For at least one little girl in this world does not think +so, and never shall." + +Then Polly closed her eyes and fell to dreaming. She was not really +asleep, only resting. She had had rather a hard struggle after Mollie's +fire and her own unfortunate part in it. That wretched cold she had +taken settled on her lungs immediately afterwards and she was now only +strong enough to lead an ordinary existence. There was no thought of her +acting again until the next fall. + +She was not yet feeling particularly vigorous, so now although she +plainly heard the sound of a man's footsteps approaching the veranda, +she made no effort to open her eyes. It was probably Billy or one of his +farm men. If a question should be asked of her then would come the time +for answering it. + +Nevertheless, she had not expected that the man would walk deliberately +up to her and then stand in front of her without saying a word. + +Miss O'Neill felt annoyed and her cheeks flamed with the two bright +spots of color always characteristic of her. Notwithstanding, she opened +her eyes coldly and calmly, haughtily she hoped. + +The intruder did not flinch. He merely continued gazing at her and still +without speaking. + +But Polly's flush burned deeper, although she also said nothing. + +"I had to come, Miss Polly," Richard Hunt announced at last. + +Polly motioned to a chair near by. "You were good--to trouble," she +returned slowly. "It has been four months since I saw you last and asked +you to come; and since then I have very nearly died." + +Then she smiled and held out her hand with the utmost friendliness. + +"Forgive me," she begged. "I am glad to see you at any time. I am afraid +I am behaving like the preacher who reproaches the members of his +congregation for not doing their duty and attending service on the very +Sundays when they have shown up." + +But Richard Hunt would not be frivolous. + +"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 +circumstances 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." + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +Page 98, "Westen" changed to "Western" (famous Western resort) + +Page 110, repeated word "at" removed from text. Original read (taken her +at at her word) + +Page 132 "a nold" changed to "an old" (an old red jacket) + +Page 140, "of" added to text (sides of the room) + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Camp Fire Girls in After Years, by +Margaret Vandercook + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN AFTER YEARS *** + +***** This file should be named 34926.txt or 34926.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/2/34926/ + +Produced by Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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