Princess Polly At Play Part 1

Princess Polly At Play.

by Amy Brooks.

CHAPTER I

POLLY, ROSE AND GWEN

A Summer at Cliffmore!

Princess Polly and Rose Atherton could think of little else.

It was true that Avondale was a charming place in which to live, and there were pleasant schoolmates and merry times when Winter came.

There were fine lawns and beautiful flowers everywhere, but Polly and Rose loved the sh.o.r.e, and surely the salt air was delightful, and the beach a lovely place on which to romp. There was Captain Seaford, whose little daughter, Sprite, had spent the winter at Avondale, and a pleasant little playmate and cla.s.smate she had been.

She had returned to her home at Cliffmore, and now was counting the days when Princess Polly and Rose would arrive, and every morning she would stand in the doorway of her home on the beach, and look in the direction in which Avondale lay.

It happened one morning that at the same moment that Sprite opened the door to look out, Princess Polly and Rose were talking of her. They, too, were out in the suns.h.i.+ne.

"How pretty Sprite looked last Summer when she played that she was a little mermaid, and lay on the rocks looking down into the water, her long yellow hair hanging down over her shoulders," Polly said.

"And the day that she invited me over to her house," said Rose, "her dress was light green, and she wore a string of coral around her neck.

I thought she looked sweet then."

"How we did enjoy her house! We never saw one like it. It was a s.h.i.+p's hulk, turned upside down, and divided up into rooms. Oh, but it was cosey!" Polly said.

"And it won't be long before we'll be there at the sh.o.r.e, playing with Sprite just as we did last Summer," said Rose.

A long time they stood talking. There were such delightful memories of Cliffmore, and so many pleasures to antic.i.p.ate. There would be sailing trips on the "Dolphin," the yacht belonging to Captain Atherton, and Captain Atherton himself had hinted at some sort of merry-making that would occur at his fine home on the sh.o.r.e.

"Uncle John doesn't say whether it is to be a party, or what it will be, but when I asked him if it would be fine, he took me on his knee, and he said:

"'Rose, little Rose, it will be the brightest, the happiest event that I ever attended,' so I guess it will be fine, for Uncle John always means what he says," Rose concluded.

"Oh, we can't help wondering what it will be like, and just when it will be," Princess Polly said, her hands tightly clasped and her eyes bright with excitement.

"It's a lovely place to stay in, even if there wasn't a single thing planned for amus.e.m.e.nt, but when you know there'll be ever so many good times happening during the Summer, it makes us wild to start for Cliffmore."

The sound of footsteps running made them turn, just as Gwen Harcourt came racing toward them.

She was a little neighbor, so bold, so regardless of the feelings of others, so apt to tell outrageous stories, that Polly and Rose were not fond of her. She never stopped to question if she were welcome, but entered any house where the door stood open, and at once made herself quite at home, always remaining until she chose to go.

She was evidently quite excited. Her short, curling hair blew about her face, and her cheeks were red.

"What do you think?" she cried. "I've just come from that big house over there, where the people have just moved in. I couldn't tell if I'd like to know them, unless I went when I could see them, so this morning I went right up to the door, and as it wasn't locked, I opened it, and went in."

"Why, Gwen Harcourt!" Rose exclaimed.

"Well, what?" Gwen said pertly.

"S'pose I was going to wait and wonder what those people were like? I guess not. I went right straight in and looked at them, so now I know.

"The lady isn't much to look at, and she wasn't dressed up the least bit, and the baby that the nursemaid was holding was awful homely.

"Its face was red, and its hair was sort of straight and stringy, and when it cried, and that was most all the time I was there, it made a perfectly horrid face.

"There's a boy there, too, and I didn't like him very well," she continued. "He talked to me some, but he wants to do all the talking, and I don't like that. I want to talk most of the time, myself."

Polly and Rose managed not to laugh.

"Perhaps if you had been willing to listen, and let him talk more, you might have liked him better," Polly said.

"No, I wouldn't!" Gwen said, stoutly, "for what little he did say made me mad. Think how rude he was! When I told him my whole _truly_ name was Gwendolen Armitage Harcourt, he just said:

"'H'm! Is that so? Well, my name is Jona Jonathan Ebenezer Montgomery, and that beats your name all hollow.' The lady laughed, but she said: 'Don't tease the little girl. That is not your name at all. Why not tell her what your real name is?'

"He didn't do it. He just said: 'Oh, bother!' and ran out doors. I didn't like the boy, but the big room seemed duller after he went out, so after a while I slipped out, and when I saw you two talking, I came over here. What were you talking about?"

"We were talking about the fine times we'll have at Cliffmore this Summer," Polly said, "and we can hardly wait to enjoy them."

"I'd not care to go there," Gwen said, with a toss of her head.

"Well, then," said Rose, "it's lucky you don't have to go there."

"Yes, isn't it?" Gwen said, cheerfully. "I could if I wanted to. Mamma will go wherever I wish, that is if I just act horrid enough."

"Why, what do you mean?" Polly asked, and Gwen laughed.

"You're funny girls," she said. "Don't either of you know that the way to get your own way is to scream and be just as horrid as you can until your mamma 'gives in?'"

"I'd not care to act like that," Princess Polly said, and Rose said: "Neither would I."

"Well, I want my own way, all the time and everywhere, and that's the way I get it," declared Gwen, and she danced off down the avenue, humming as cheerfully as if she had told of doing pleasant things.

"Isn't it queer'?" Rose said. "Gwen tells of being disagreeable, as if she felt proud of it."

"Mrs. Harcourt does the same thing," said Primrose Polly. "She's always telling of horrid pranks, and rude things that Gwen says, and she tells them as if she thought Gwen very smart to act so. It isn't odd that Gwen behaves so badly, for she likes to act just perfectly horrid. She says so, and if she thinks her mamma likes it, what is there to make her stop?"

"And Uncle John says, oh, I'd not tell exactly what he says, but he said only yesterday that he could not understand how any woman could let her little daughter grow up like a weed. He said Gwen was pretty to look at, but as unpleasant as a nettlebush. I'd not like anyone to say that of me," Rose said.

"Well, no one ever would say that about you," Polly said lovingly.

"Nor you," replied Rose.

Then, their arms clasping each other, they slipped down the sidewalk.

It was but a few days longer that they must wait before sailing to Cliffmore.