Princess Polly's Playmates Part 15

CHAPTER VII

AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

ON the day after the one at the studio, Rose and Polly sat on the terrace, their laps filled with flowers. Each was weaving a wreath for the other, and each was intent upon making a very beautiful one.

"Mine will be syringas and pink geraniums," said Rose, "and, Polly Sherwood, would you ever think shadows could be so horrid as they were last night?"

"No, I wouldn't," said Polly, "specially when we're out here in the sunlight. Now, just see what I'm doing. I'm making this wreath of pink rosebuds and mignonette. You'll look fine in it when it's done."

"So will you, Princess Polly, when you wear the wreath I'm making. You always look like a TRULY princess, but you'll look more like one than ever when you have this on. I put syringas in it because they're so sweet," said Rose.

"That's why I used mignonette," said Polly. "Look! Mine is half done."

"Oh, it's lovely!" cried Rose.

They surely were having a fine time. The gay colored boxes filled with bonbons that Aunt Lois had given them lay on the gra.s.s between them, and they were almost empty boxes, because busy little hands had paused so often to dip into them.

"Six left," said Rose; "three for you and three for me. Let's keep the boxes for paper dolls, they're such pretty ones."

"We will," agreed Polly, "and now, Rose, try on the wreath."

"Oh, it looks fine on your brown curls," she cried, as she placed the pretty wreath on Rose's head.

"And here's yours," said Rose, as she laid it lightly upon Polly's flaxen curls.

"Oh, my, it's just the right kind of a wreath for you!" she cried.

"Let's go in and show them to Aunt Lois."

They sprang from the gra.s.s and turned toward the house just in time to meet Nora, the maid, as she was coming toward them.

"Yer Aunt Lois wants yer ter come right in, Miss Rose, an' bring Miss Polly with yer," she said.

"That's funny," said Rose, with a merry laugh in which Polly joined, "for we were just going to run in and let her see our wreaths."

"Well, now, ye look like fairies with the bright flowers on yer hair, an' do ye go right in, because there's someone has come that's wantin'

ter see yer. Keep the flowers on yer heads an' go right in," said Nora.

"Who is it, Nora?" Rose asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Well, I do'no whether she'd want yer ter be surprised or let me tell yer, but--it's yer Uncle John!"

The smiles fled from their faces.

"Uncle John!" gasped Rose. "Oh, Nora, is he very old? Does he carry a cane? Is he deaf? Is he going to take me away from here?"

She had clasped her hands nervously, and stood waiting for Nora to answer her questions.

"Now, Miss Rose," said Nora, her eyes twinkling, "I think ye better go right in an' see him."

"But should you think he's over NINETY?" persisted Rose.

"Well I shouldn't say he was OVER that," Nora replied dryly.

"Come Polly," said Rose. "There's nothing else to do but to go in."

With lagging steps they walked along the path and turned toward the house. Then for the first time they saw the automobile in which the guest had arrived.

"Why, who drove him here?" said Rose. "Look! There's no man waiting in it, and if he's NINETY he wouldn't drive alone, would he?"

Polly shook her head.

"Perhaps he isn't QUITE that," she said.

It was the only bit of encouragement that she could offer.

"I think I'll wait here on the piazza," she said when they had reached the door.

"Why, don't you want to meet him?" Rose asked.

"Oh, yes," Polly answered, "but if he's--if he, oh, I don't quite know how I mean it. I just thought perhaps you'd like to know him a little, and then I'll come in, and _I'_LL know him, too."

Nora, just behind them, reached forward and touched Rose's shoulder.

"Run right in," she said, "the gentleman's waiting to see you."

For the moment she forgot Polly, and hastening across the great hall, lest Uncle John might guess that she did not wish to meet him, little Rose Atherton entered the long, cool parlor, and found herself face to face with a tall, handsome man, who rose to greet her. His waving hair was touched with gray, his brown eyes were merry.

"So this is little Rose," he said, "will you come and let me look at you? Why, who made the dainty wreath for you?"

He offered not one, but both his hands to her, and with a happy cry, she laid her little hands in his.

"Will you come for a few days and make me a visit?" he asked. "You will have a pleasant time, and we shall get acquainted. I think I can make you like me, little Rose."

"Oh, I do, I DO like you NOW!" she cried, and her little heart was filled with delight.

Here was a cheery, handsome young uncle, in place of the unattractive old uncle that she had supposed awaited her.

"Don't remove your wreath," he said, as she raised her hands toward the flowers, "because it is really very becoming. Were you playing alone when I arrived?"

"Oh, no," said Rose, "I was so glad when I saw you, because--" she hesitated.

"Because?" he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Because you aren't OLD. I thought my Uncle John MUST be 'most ninety,"

she said softly, so that Aunt Lois might not hear.