Princess Polly At Play Part 7
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Harcourt, trying to decide which shade of silk to use, did not even look up. She did not dream that Gwen had returned.
So surprised were the guests that, for the moment, no one spoke, and the man continued:
"Me'n' my mates found her floating out ter sea in a ol' tub what the carpenters had been usin' fer cement, an' we pulled her in. As the tub was a leakin', I guess 'twas 'bout time 'less ye wanted her ter be drownded."
A shrill cry from Mrs. Harcourt followed by the sound of hurrying feet, and then:
"Oh, Gwen, my dear! Come away from that rough man!" she cried, and the instant silence showed the disgust that her words had provoked.
"Wal, I s'pose that's the kind of thanks that a poor feller can expect from a lady 'ristocrat!" said the fisherman as he turned to go, "but I'll say one thing more, an' that is that the young lad named Max is 'sponsible for the mischief. It was him what coaxed the little la.s.s inter that ol' tub, an' then run off ter play."
"Three cheers for this man!" cried a young fellow who had listened intently, and the guests responded with a will, and Mrs. Harcourt from the hall whence she had vanished with Gwen, wondered what it was all about.
She considered herself a cultured woman, yet she had not spoken one grateful word to the man who had rescued Gwen from her perilous position!
Of course Max denied that he had intended to play a trick on Gwen. He was a coward, and a coward rarely cares to "own up" when guilty.
Instead, he insisted that he only "dared" her to get into the tub, but that he never thought she would stay in it a moment after he was out of sight.
His mother believed him; the guests did not, but little cared Max. So long as she thought him perfect, he was quite happy, because he could do, at all times, exactly as he chose. That he usually chose to be very disagreeable was not to be wondered at.
His mother thought his pranks most amusing, and his saucy speeches, smart, so he was quite content.
The oddest part of all was that Gwen really liked Max Deland. He was always getting her into sc.r.a.pes, and as soon as she had escaped from one, she was ready for another.
Max never helped her. Instead, he left her to help herself. Gwen was wilful with all of her girl playmates, but she would agree to anything that Max proposed, so when, in the afternoon of the following day, he told her that he was going to take a long tramp, Gwen was wild to know just where he was going, and coaxed to go too.
"_Where_ are you going?" she asked for the third time.
"Oh, somewhere great!" Max said with a provoking chuckle.
"It would serve you just right if I said I didn't care where you went, but I do care, because I want to go too," Gwen said.
"I only wanted to tease you," Max replied, "and I'll let you go with me, Gwen. Turn 'round and look at that high hill over back of the house where we're staying. I'm going to climb to the top of that hill, and go down on the other side, just to see what there is 'round behind that hill."
"Then why don't you walk around it, instead of climbing?" questioned Gwen.
"Smarty!" Max said, at he same time looking very unpleasant.
"Oh, I don't care," Gwen hastened to say. "I like to climb. Come on!"
It did not look like much of a hill, but it proved to be hard to climb, for its sides were steep, and covered with wiry gra.s.s.
The sun was hot, and long before reaching the top, Gwen wished that she had not started at all.
Twice she stopped to take short pieces of stems or dry twigs from her slippers, and often the th.o.r.n.y branches of the low bushes scratched her bare arms.
Her sleeves were short, and thus her arms were unprotected. Max's arms were covered by his jacket sleeves.
"What a fuss you make over a little scratch!" he said, sharply.
"I'm _not_ fussing over _a_ scratch!" snapped Gwen. "I'm fussing over 'bout a hundred scratches!"
"Oh,--o--o!" Max drawled, as if he doubted the number.
"Well, look!" cried Gwen, holding her little arms red with scratches.
"Too bad," Max said, and Gwen, surprised, and pleased, followed him, as he made his way just ahead of her, holding back the bushes.
"Oh, Max, you're good," she said, and Max blushed at her praise. He thought himself exceedingly good, but he was delighted that Gwen thought so.
"This hill didn't look so very high, when we stood on the beach and looked back at it," said Gwen.
"N-no," admitted Max, "but all the same I'm glad we started early, and we'll reach the top 'fore long. Then we'll see what's on the other side, and when we climb down, we can just run around on the level ground, and tell the folks where we've been, and what a climb we had!"
"Oh, yes," agreed Gwen, and once more they pushed forward, and up toward the summit, that seemed, no matter how long they climbed, to be not the least bit nearer.
For a time they climbed in silence, when, all at once, Gwen tripped over a loose root, and promptly sat down.
"I'll have to rest a few minutes," she said.
"I'll sit down because you do," Max said. He would not say that he, too, was tired.
He was not contented long to sit resting, and soon the two were once more trudging up the steep incline, Max leading the way, and Gwen, following close behind him.
"We're 'most to the top," he said, at last, to which Gwen replied:
"I don't believe it! The more we climb, the farther away it seems, and I do believe that horrid old hilltop moves away as fast as it sees us coming!"
"Now, Gwen, you know better! Just look!" Max said, and Gwen looked.
"Well,--the top isn't any farther off than it was the last time I looked up," she said, grudgingly.
She knew that it looked nearer, but she could not bear to say that.
"It's nearer, and you know it!" Max declared, stoutly. "Come on!"
"Wait till I fix my shoe," wailed Gwen.
"I'll bet that's the tenth time you've stopped to pull your shoe off since we started to climb this hill," Max cried in disgust.
Gwen was about to say that she should stop again if she wished to, but a glance at Max caused her to change her mind. His face was far from pleasing, so without a word, she fastened her shoe, and silently the two tramped on.
Max was wis.h.i.+ng that he had taken the trip alone.
Gwen heartily wished that she had remained on the beach.
She was not only tired, but her feet were sore and blistered.
Princess Polly At Play Part 7
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Princess Polly At Play Part 7 summary
You're reading Princess Polly At Play Part 7. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Amy Brooks already has 581 views.
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