Polly's Senior Year at Boarding School Part 37

"Take me out," she sobbed, as Polly came up. "I'm no good on earth."

"You are quite right; you aren't," Polly replied, sternly. "I never saw such a silly exhibition of flunk. If I had any one to put in your place, I would; but you know I haven't."

Betty looked up in surprise. She thought Polly was being a little too hard on poor f.a.n.n.y.

"I never saw such poor plays in my life," Polly continued, relentlessly. "You seemed to enjoy flunking. If you'd stop thinking of Jack and John and the rest of your admirers and pay a little attention to the game, we might stand a chance," she concluded, coldly.

"Why, Polly!" f.a.n.n.y dried her eyes. "You shouldn't talk to me like that.

I did the best I could, and I wasn't thinking of boys," she denied, angrily, "and you know it."

Polly refused to even listen. She turned her back on f.a.n.n.y and sat down beside Lois.

"And that's all right," she said contentedly.

"What is?" Lois demanded. "Poll, we haven't a chance."

"Oh, yes, we have; just watch."

The whistle blew for the second half and the teams returned to their places. Instead of tears, f.a.n.n.y's eyes flashed indignant protest, and her mouth was set in a firm line.

Maud took Eleanor's place, much to the latter's satisfaction. Betty won the first toss up, pa.s.sed the ball to f.a.n.n.y. She bounced it to line and threw it to Polly. She was so angry that she literally fired the ball.

Polly caught it, tossed it to Lois, and she made a clean basket.

"What did I tell you?" she said; "we're going to win this game."

They played hard for the rest of the half. Maud persistently refused to let the Fenwick forward even touch the ball. In her attempt to get beyond the reach of Maud's guarding arm, she went over the line, and Polly made a basket on the foul.

The spectators were breathless as the score mounted up--7-3, 7-5 and at last 7-7. The girls cheered encouragement and Bob and Uncle Roddy clapped so hard that Polly and Lois looked up and waved.

Lois had just caught a ball that Betty threw and was aiming for a basket when the whistle blew.

"Now, what!" Betty demanded. "We can't stop with a tie."

Miss Stewart consulted the two captains.

"We will play an extra two minutes," she said, "to decide. Ready!"

It was a tense second. The school groaned as the Fenwick center won the toss, but they had forgotten Maud. She jumped high in the air and batted the ball back to Betty, who pa.s.sed it to f.a.n.n.y, and then ran to the line to receive it again. Lois was waiting for it and pa.s.sed it low to Polly and dashed to the goal post. Polly threw it back to her and she threw for the basket. There was an agonized silence as the ball tottered on the iron rim, that broke into a shout of triumph as it dropped in the basket, a fraction of a minute before the whistle blew.

Seddon Hall had won--a splendid victory--and Polly's dream was realized.

The girls crowded around her and cheered; then lifted her according to custom, shoulder high, and carried her around the room.

"Where's f.a.n.n.y Gerard?" she asked as soon as they put her down before the cup she had won.

"Here!" Betty called, pulling the reluctant center to her.

Polly threw her arms around her. "f.a.n.n.y, will you ever forgive me?" she said. "I didn't mean a word of all those horrid things I said--not one.

I only did it to make you mad. I knew if you could only begin to rage, you'd get back your nerve, and you did; you played like a little fury--but oh, how I hated to do it!"

f.a.n.n.y threw back her head and laughed with relief. "Oh, Polly!" she exclaimed, "I thought you really meant it."

Maud accepted Polly's praise with genuine pleasure. For once her stolid indifference gave way to natural enthusiasm. Mrs. Baird presented Polly with the cup, and the Fenwick captain added to her joy by telling her that she had never seen such a wonderful exhibition of generals.h.i.+p. Dr.

and Mrs. Farwell, with Uncle Roddy and Bob were waiting at the door as the girls came out bundled up in their sweaters.

"Good for you, Polly!" Bob said, enthusiastically. "That certainly was a ripping game, and you deserve a whole lot of credit. I take back everything I ever said about your girls' basket ball. Let's see the cup," he added.

Polly showed it to him.

"I'm proud of you, Tiddledewinks," Uncle Roddy said, "and Lois, too. You have a splendid eye. That last goal was well made." He put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm dumbfounded!" the doctor exclaimed. "I had no idea girls did anything as strenuous as this."

"You must be tired out?" Mrs. Farwell said, "and you'll catch cold. Do hurry back to school and change."

Polly and Lois started.

"I wish Jim had been here," Lois called over her shoulder to Bob.

"Perhaps he might have changed his mind about basket ball being a good enough girls' game," she said.

"He'll be here to-morrow," Bob replied. "And you can trust me to see that his mind is changed," he promised.

CHAPTER XIX

THE SENIOR DANCE

History cla.s.sroom, converted temporarily into a dressing room, was a scene of busy confusion. The Seniors were being "made up"--a woman had come from New York especially for the purpose.

It was almost time for the play to begin and everybody was in a hurry.

Outside the a.s.sembly Hall was rapidly filling and the murmur of voices penetrated to the dressing room.

"There must be a perfect swarm of visitors," Betty said. "I know the minute I get on that stage I'll forget every one of my lines," she added, as she looked critically at herself in the gla.s.s. She was playing the part of Shylock, and her long beard and gray wig disguised her almost beyond recognition.

"Do you think I need some more lines on my face?" she asked Miss Crosby, who was acting as stage manager.

"No, Betty dear, I don't; I think you're quite ugly enough," Miss Crosby answered her. "Are you ready, Polly?"

"No; I'm still struggling with this sash," Polly answered, coming out from behind a screen dressed as Ba.s.sanio.

"I'll fix it. There!" Miss Crosby tied the refractory sash and then stood off to view the effect. "You make a very gallant and graceful Ba.s.sanio," she said.

"Where's my Portia?" Polly inquired.

Lois was being "made up"; so she could only laugh in response. She was charming in a full black velvet gown, trimmed with heavy white lace, and her hair was crowned by a cap of pearls.

Angela, in dark green, was no less lovely as Nerissa. Evelin made a dignified Antonio, and Dot Mead a jaunty Gratiano. Helen played the double role of Salarino and the Moor, while Dorothy Lansing took The Prince of Arragon and the Gaoler.