Polly of Lady Gay Cottage. Dowd Emma C.

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      Down in the office her tongue ran wild, until her mother was quite as excited as she. But there was a difference; Polly’s wondering thoughts flew straight to her lips, Mrs. Dudley’s stayed in her heart, restless and fearsome.

      Next morning the injured man seemed no worse, though the physicians still had grave doubts of his recovery. Dr. Dudley, while appreciating Mr. Bean’s kind intentions towards Polly, and putting out of account the serious accident, grimly wished to himself that the little man had suffered the rosewood box to remain hidden in his wife’s bureau drawer. Of course, Polly was legally his own, yet these unknown relatives of hers, – with what convincing arguments might they confront him, arguments which he could not honestly refute! Yet he carried the box to the locksmith’s, and he conjectured cheerfully with Polly regarding the contents of the letter.

      Late in the afternoon he put both box and key into Polly’s hands.

      “Oh!” she squealed delightedly. “Have you opened it?”

      “Most certainly not. That pleasure is left for you.”

      She eagerly placed the key in the lock, and carefully raised the cover.

      A folded tissue paper lay on top, which she caught up, and the photograph was disclosed.

      “Mamma!” she half sobbed, pressing the picture to her lips.

      But Dr. Dudley scarcely noticed her emotion, for the displacement of the card had revealed only an empty box – the letter was gone! He looked across at his wife, and their eyes met in perfect understanding. The moment they had both dreaded was postponed, and they felt a sudden relief. Still, there had been a letter, the Doctor silently reasoned, and sooner or later its contents must be faced.

      “See!” Polly was holding before him the portrait of a lovely, girlish woman, with dark, thoughtful eyes and beautiful, curving mouth.

      “It looks just like her!” came in tremulous tones. “Isn’t she sweet?” She leaned lightly against her father, drawing a long breath of joy and sorrow.

      As he threw his arm about her, the Doctor could feel her efforts to be calm.

      “But where’s the letter?” she asked, with sudden recollection, turning from their satisfying praise of the one she loved, to gaze into the empty box. She regarded it disappointedly when she heard the truth.

      “Now I shan’t ever know,” she lamented, “whether I have any grandfather or grandmother, or uncles or aunts, – or anybody! And I thought, may be, there’d be some cousins too! But, then,” she went on cheerfully, “it isn’t as if the letter was from somebody I’d ever known. I’m glad it is that that’s lost, instead of this,” clasping the photograph to her heart.

      Mrs. Dudley glanced over to her husband. “Better not tell her!” his eyes said, and her own agreed. It seemed that Polly did not dream of what was undoubtedly the case, – that the letter was from her mother, written as a birthday accompaniment to the picture, and giving hitherto withheld information concerning her kindred.

      It was far better for Polly’s peace of heart that the probable truth was not even surmised, and presently she carried the photograph up to her own little room, there to feast her eyes upon the well-remembered face until time was forgotten.

      CHAPTER II

      LEONORA’S WONDERFUL NEWS

      “

      Polly!”

      Dr. Dudley waited at the foot of the short staircase. He had just come in from an early morning visit to a hospital patient.

      “Yes, father,” floated down to him, followed by a scurry of light feet in the corridor overhead.

      Directly Polly appeared at the top of the flight, one side of her hair in soft, smooth curls, the other a mass of fluffy waves.

      “Leonora sent word for you to come over ‘just as soon as you possibly can,’” smiled the Doctor. “She has something to tell you.”

      “I don’t see what it can be,” replied Polly. “Do you know, father?”

      “You wouldn’t wish me to rob Leonora of the first telling of her news,” he objected.

      “No,” she admitted slowly; “but I can’t imagine why she’s in such a hurry. I wonder if she is to stay at the hospital longer than she expected – that isn’t it, is it?”

      Dr. Dudley shook his head.

      “My advice is to make haste with your toilet and run over to the hospital and find out.”

      “Yes,” Polly agreed, “I will.” Yet she stood still, her forehead puckered over the possible good things that could have happened to her friend.

      Dr. Dudley turned away, and then halted.

      “Isn’t your mother waiting for you?” he suggested.

      “Oh, I forgot!” she cried, and flew back to where Mrs. Dudley sat, brush and comb in hand.

      “How my hair grows!” commented Polly, after discussing the news awaiting her, and silently concluding that whatever her mother knew she did not intend to disclose. “It will be a year next week since it was cut. I shall have mermaid tresses before I know it. Isn’t it nice that I was hurt? Because if I hadn’t been I should never have known you and father. Did you expect to marry him when he took you to ride on Elsie’s birthday?”

      “Of course not!” laughed Mrs. Dudley. “You were a roguish little match-maker!”

      “I never thought of that,” returned Polly. “I only wanted you to have a good time.”

      “I had it,” her mother smiled, tying a ribbon to hold the bright curls. “There!” with a final pluck at the bow; “now run along and hear Leonora’s glad story! I am afraid she will be getting impatient.”

      As Polly skipped up to the hospital entrance, the door flew open, and Leonora, smiling rapturously, ran to meet her.

      “What is it?” entreated Polly. “I can’t wait another minute!”

      “Seem’s if I couldn’t, too! I thought you’d never come! What do you think, Polly May Dudley! I’m goin’ to live with Mrs. Jocelyn! – all the time! – forever! She’s adopted me!”

      Polly stared, and then let out her astonishment in a big “O-h!” This was, indeed, something unguessable. “Isn’t that lovely!” she cried in delight. “I’m so glad! – just as glad as I can be!”

      “Of course you are! Everybody is,” Leonora responded blissfully. They went in doors arm in arm, stopping in Dr. Dudley’s office, their tongues more than keeping pace with their steps.

      “I shouldn’t think your father and mother would want to give you up,” observed practical Polly.

      “I guess they’re glad,” Leonora replied. “Prob’ly I wouldn’t go if they were my own; but I don’t belong to them.”

      “You don’t?”

      “Why, СКАЧАТЬ