Princess Polly's Playmates Part 12

When the tiny gla.s.ses were quite empty Lester bought a package of candy for his friends, and having paid for the treat, opened the door for them to pa.s.s out onto the sidewalk.

"Why it looks different," said Polly, "is it cloudy, since we went in there?" But the sky showed no clouds. Then where had the bright sunlight gone?

"Oh, I b'lieve it's late!" cried Rose, "do you s'pose it is? It was long after lunch when we started for the studio, oh, ever so long after. We staid there looking at the pictures for hours, I guess, and then we came with you, Lester."

"It CAN'T be late," the boy replied, although he truly believed that it was.

"We could go back a shorter way than the one we came. Shall we?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, yes!" cried Rose, "we must get there before Aunt Lois is ready to go. If Mr. Kirtland is still painting we can go in softly by the little side door, and wait until it is time to go."

Lester led the way, and the three children ran down one street, and up another, until at last they paused for breath.

"This short way seems longer than the way we came!" ventured Polly.

"We AREN'T lost, are we?" cried Rose.

"I turned into the wrong street when we started," admitted Lester, "but it's only a little way now."

"Then let's hurry just that little way," said Rose.

She clasped Polly's hand, and again they ran on, and after a few moments, Lester cried: "There it is!"

Sure enough! There was the clump of holly-hocks, and close beside it, the little green door.

CHAPTER VI

AT THE STUDIO

"Good-bye, good-bye!" they cried to Lester, "and thank you, oh thank you, but we must hurry!"

Lester waved his cap to them, and then raced down the avenue.

Then, treading softly, they ran along the little path, past the holly-hocks, and--the little green door was closed.

"Oh, Rose!" gasped Polly, but Rose had grasped the k.n.o.b, and found that while the door looked to be closed, it had only been swung to with the breeze.

She pushed it open, and noiselessly they entered.

Softly they crept across the floor, Polly clinging to Rose's hand, and when they had reached the little divan, they sat down, and for a moment, neither spoke.

They still clasped hands, and when Polly looked toward the doorway that led into the large studio, Rose looked that way too.

From where they sat, they could not see either the painter or his model.

Polly leaned toward Rose.

"Doesn't he EVER talk when he's painting?" she whispered.

Rose shook her head.

"I 'most always bring a book with me, and while Aunt Lois is posing, I read stories," she whispered in reply.

Then for a time neither spoke.

The old clock out in that other room ticked to prove that all was not silent, but it made the waiting children more lonely.

They could not see its face, but after what seemed a long time, it chimed a single note.

"Oh, dear! That's only a half hour. I thought it was going to strike,"

whispered Rose, "and then we'd have known what time it was."

"Don't you dare to go in there, just a little way, and peep at the clock? It's just around the corner," whispered Polly.

"I promised we wouldn't disturb him while he was painting," whispered Rose, "but I do b'lieve I'll have to soon. I'm just wild to see if he's beginning to put away his paints."

"There isn't the least sound as if he was putting away ANYTHING," said Polly.

"I'll just HAVE to look," said Rose, whispering as softly as before.

"We're awfully tired waiting, and keeping so still. It will help some to know what time it is, and if he sees me looking at the clock, perhaps he'll say he's 'MOST ready to stop painting."

She slipped from the divan, and tip-toed to the doorway, pushed the heavy hanging aside just enough to permit her to pa.s.s through. The portiere dropped heavily behind her, and Polly listened--listened.

"Oh, I hope he won't be angry. He ought not to after we've waited so long, but he's a great artist, and I s'pose Rose is disturbing him. I hope he won't scold. I didn't really tell her to go in and look at the clock, but I didn't tell her NOT to," thought Polly.

"Why DOESN'T she come back?" she whispered, a second after, when, as if in answer, the portiere was pushed aside, and Rose, a very frightened little Rose, hurried to Polly, her eyes startled, and her cheeks pale.

"He isn't there! Aunt Lois isn't there! We're alone in this studio, and I'd rather be alone ANYWHERE than here!" she cried, and they shuddered when the vacant rooms echoed her voice.

"But we don't have to STAY here!" cried Polly, "come! It's getting late, and we must hurry, or we'll be afraid to go down the streets alone."

"We CAN'T go!" cried Rose, "that's just the horrid part of it!"

"WHY can't we?"

As she asked the question Polly sprang to her feet, and clasping Rose's hand, drew her toward the door.

"It's no use, Polly," said Rose, "We CAN'T go home, because I don't know the way!"

Polly stared at her for a second in surprise.

"Why you've been here before with your Aunt Lois," she said.

"I know I have," Rose replied, "but I haven't noticed just how we came.