Polly of Lady Gay Cottage Part 17

She lay back on his shoulder again, and presently was more calm.

"Now I'm goin' to tell you something," the little man resumed. "After Susie went, I just couldn't stand it without her--she was all I had.

Her mother'd gone two years before. An' I got to thinkin' 'bout Susie, an' how she'd always tag me round, from cellar to attic, goin' with me fur's I'd let her when I went to work, and runnin' to meet me when I come home. And thinks I, 'S'pose Susie's goin' to stay up in Heaven away from me? No, sir! She's taggin' me round just the same as ever! I can't see her, but she's right here!' An' she has been! I couldn't 'a'

stood it no other way! An' Susie couldn't! The good G.o.d knows how much we c'n stand, and he eases things up for us.

"Now, my dear, it's just so with your mother. She loves you more--yis, more--than you do her, an' do you think she stays away from you? Why, no, dearie, she's right here, takin' care o' you all the time!"

"Oh! do you really s'pose that?" cried Polly joyously.

"My dear, my dear!" the little man's voice was tense with feeling, "I don't s'pose--I _know_! Ther' 's nothin' in all G.o.d's universe so strong as love, and so what is there to keep love away from us? For, of course, our folks don't stop lovin' us. They're just the same, here or there.

"I don't very often tell people how I feel, for once I got caught. A woman thought sure I was a spiritu'list, and wanted to bring me a message from Susie. But I told her, 'Now, Susie and I git on all right together without talkin', and if she's got anything to say to me that I can understand she'll say it right to me, and not to somebody she's never seen or heard of. No, ma'am,' I says, 'I know Susie better 'n you do!' So since then I've kep' pretty whist about Susie; but she's a mighty comfort to me every day o' my life."

Polly sat quite still in the little man's arms, her head leaning confidingly against the s.h.i.+ny, well-brushed coat. Her eyes were l.u.s.trous with the new, beautiful thought. Could it be really true? She was going to believe so! Presently she was smiling again, and she read that portion of her letter which gave the addresses of her father's relatives. She told Mr. Bean all about the wonderful discovery of Floyd Westwood through a birthday rose, and found that an address in the letter was identical with one which her cousin had given her. She began to feel the pleasant reality of kinsfolk, and when the little man went home she waved him a happy good-night from the piazza, quite as if there were no such things as tears.

CHAPTER XI

UNCLE MAURICE AT LADY GAY COTTAGE

"You can't live in Lady Gay Cottage much longer!"

This exulting announcement greeted Polly as she entered the schoolroom.

She looked at Ilga Barron with puzzled eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just what I say," answered Ilga. "She can't; can she, Gustave?"

The boy at her side Polly had never spoken with, but now she turned to him inquiringly. He had been in school only two days, having but recently returned with his parents from a long stay abroad.

"She's right," he a.s.serted, addressing himself to Polly. "Father's going to sell the place."

"Oh! is that what you call our house?" queried Polly, beginning to understand. "Does your father own it?"

Gustave nodded. "Mother named it from the Lady Gay roses on the piazzas," he explained. "Wait till June, and you'll see!"

"I remember them last summer," Polly smiled. "They were lovely--all pink and white, but I didn't know their name."

"You'll have to go back to the hospital to live, shan't you?"

questioned Ilga curiously.

"I don't know," Polly answered. Her face held a bit of anxiety as she moved away.

This piece of news was the foremost topic at the Dudley dinner-table.

Polly saw that her father and mother were disturbed by it. Although the Doctor made little jests, the laughter sometimes seemed forced, and occasionally talk would flag. There was no other rented house in the neighborhood, and Dr. Dudley must live in the immediate vicinity of the hospital to retain his position there. This Polly gathered from what pa.s.sed between her father and mother, and she returned to school in no mood for study or play. Later a thought came which she felt sure would solve the problem. It was not until after tea that she made the proposition.

"Father," she began, atilt on the arm of his chair, "should you like to buy this house yourself?"

"Possibly, if I had plenty of money; but what little I have is tied up where I can't get at it conveniently."

"Oh, then you can buy it right away!" Polly cried gleefully. "You can take my two thousand dollars! Won't that be enough?"

Dr. Dudley's lips set themselves firmly, and he shook his head.

"No, Thistledown, I cannot touch your money. Don't you remember, I told you it must stay where it is until you are of age?"

"Oh, but this is different!" she urged. "Please take it--do!"

Her entreaties, however, could not prevail against the Doctor's judgment.

"What shall we do, then?" she complained.

"Keep still for the present," he laughed. "The house isn't sold yet, perhaps won't be. Don't worry over it, Thistledown! There will be some way out, and a good way, too. Your Cousin Floyd told me to-night that the Royal is due to-morrow. You know that is the steamer his father sailed on, so you may expect to see your uncle by Friday. Floyd thinks he will come up at once."

"I shall like him if he is as nice as Floyd," returned Polly thoughtfully.

Dr. Dudley said nothing. He was weighing love and legal rights against wealth and near kins.h.i.+p. The balance did not appear to be in his favor.

On Thursday Polly was thrown into a pleasant excitement by the telephone message that came to Dr. Dudley. Uncle Maurice Westwood was in New York, and would motor up to Fair Harbor the next morning, to see his son and his new niece.

"I shall have to stay home from school, shan't I?" Polly questioned eagerly.

"I think not," was the quiet answer. "It is uncertain what time he will come, so things had better go on as usual."

"But what if he should go back before I got home?" worried Polly.

Mrs. Dudley laughed. "No danger of that! Don't you think your uncle will be as anxious to see you as you are to see him?"

"Maybe," she replied doubtfully.

She felt that so unusual an occasion called for her best dress and a stately waiting for the visitor, instead of going to school in her common frock just as on ordinary days when nothing happened. But she made no further objection, joining David on the front walk, and telling him that "Uncle Maurice" was actually coming.

Returning at noon, Polly ran nearly all the way, so eager was she to see if her uncle's car were in front of the house. To her disappointment the only vehicle in sight was a grocer's team at Colonel Gresham's side gate.

"I'm afraid he's gone," she lamented under her breath; yet she hurried round to the kitchen door, and was relieved of her fear by hearing voices in the living-room, her mother's and a deeper one that she did not know.

Uncle Maurice looked a little as Polly had pictured, patterning him by his young son; but she had not made sufficient allowance for years, and he was older and very much bigger than she had imagined he would be. His smile was pleasant, like Floyd's, and his greeting cordial and even fatherly. When Dr. Dudley came in he found her chatting familiarly upon her uncle's knee.

It was not until after dinner that Mr. Westwood spoke of Polly's future. Then his first sentence almost caught away her breath.

"Well, Doctor, I suppose you are going to give this little girl to me."

"It will be as Polly says," replied the physician, with a grave smile.