Polly and the Princess Part 16

Maybe it's the reflection o' the roses! Lovely color, ain't it!

He must be a goner, sure! How many times a week d' they come?

'Nother card swooped, I s'pose? It beats me!"

Miss Major opened the door for Miss Castlevaine.

"I couldn't help hearing what you said about another card--who's lost one now?"

She shook her head while Miss Crilly explained. "We shall have to lock up our jewelry pretty soon--huh! How do you feel this morning, Mrs. Crump? Had the doctor?"

The invalid winced and caught her breath, as a sudden twinge shot through her arm. "I don't know as I'm any worse," she said. "I haven't slept a wink since two o'clock! No, the doctor didn't stop here! I thought maybe he would, he was in Mrs. Post's room, right next door; but Mrs. n.o.bbs said yesterday it wasn't necessary--it's 'only pain,' you know!"

"Only pain!" laughed Miss Crilly. "Isn't that enough? Then, when I'm sick it'll be with something besides pain--I'll remember that!

And I'll have the doctor when I need him--don't you forget it!"

"What's the matter with Mrs. Post?" queried Miss Castlevaine.

"Something about her knee--she told me the doctor was going to bandage it up. It was Mrs. Post, you know!" Mrs. Crump emphasized the sentence with lowered voice and lifted eyebrows.

Miss Castlevaine nodded. "No favorites in the June Holiday Home!

How did you like the dinner yesterday noon?" She smiled knowingly.

"It's good-bye, pudding, forevermore!" laughed Miss Crilly.

"Didn't it seem queer not to have a bit of dessert?"

"Same as other days," returned Miss Major. "I suppose the Sunday pie will go next."

"So I heard!" Miss Castlevaine's lips thinned themselves together.

"But that isn't the worst thing! Do you know about Mrs. d.i.c.k?"

"No--what?" Miss Crilly stopped smelling of the roses.

"Why, Tuesday she met an old schoolmate on the street who inquired if she had been ill. Mrs. d.i.c.k said no. 'Why didn't you come to the wedding, then?' the lady asked. 'Wedding?' exclaimed Mrs.

d.i.c.k; 'what wedding?' 'Why, Anita's!' (Anita is her daughter.) 'I didn't know she was going to be married, and it isn't likely I should have gone without an invitation,' she laughed. 'I invited you,' the lady said. 'It was a very informal affair, no cards, and not many guests; but I telephoned to the Home, for you to come over and spend the day. I wanted you to see Anita's pretty clothes and her beautiful presents. They said they'd give you the message right off.' 'First I've heard of it!' said Mrs. d.i.c.k, and I tell you she was mad! Isn't that awful? If anything happens to us, I don't know as our friends will hear of it till after the funeral--huh!"

"Is she going to make a fuss about it?" asked Miss Major.

"Of course not! She'd probably be turned out if she did."

"What are we coming to!" For a minute Miss Crilly actually looked doleful. "I'm going to tell all my folks that if they want me to know anything in a hurry they'd better telegraph or send me a special delivery letter--that'll fix 'em. My! To think of bein'

invited to a weddin' and not knowin' it!"

"When I first came here," resumed Miss Castlevaine, "my cousin was dreadfully upset because they wouldn't call me to the telephone to talk with her. Finally she said so much they gave in, and I went down. I supposed it was the regular thing until she told me about it afterwards. She had to ask me two or three questions about something, and get my answers to know what to do."

"There should be a telephone in every room, as there is in a hotel," a.s.serted Miss Major.

"Oh, my!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Miss Crilly. "When you get it, send me word!

Probably I shan't be here by that time, but I guess I shall be hoverin' somewhere round, and I'll know when your 'phone's in!"

"To have one in each room would be a great deal of expense," said Mrs. Crump.

"What of it!" retorted Miss Major. "Haven't they money enough?

They're always building additions--now the one that's going to spoil Miss Sterling's room and Miss Twining's down below. They'd a good deal better spend it on telephones."

"They've got a new rug down in the hall," announced Miss Castlevaine. "'Most anybody could have new rugs if they stole the money to buy them with!"

"What do you mean?" was Miss Crilly's quick query.

"You'd better not say anything about it; but I heard that Miss Twining wrote a poem for a Sunday-School paper and got eight dollars for it--"

"My!" put in Miss Crilly.

"And," went on Miss Castlevaine, "she bought a new s.h.i.+rt waist.

When she wore it Mrs. n.o.bbs asked her where she got it. Like a simpleton, she told the whole story, so pleased to have earned the money, and never dreaming but that it was her own! What did they do but make her give up the seven dollars she had left! They did let her keep the waist--she needed it badly enough." Miss Castlevaine shook her head, while comments flew fast.

"I'm sorry for Miss Twining," sympathized Miss Crilly. "She's the kind that won't sputter it all out, as I should; she'll cry herself sick over it!"

"If we cried for all the hard things we have here," said Mrs.

Crump, "we shouldn't have any eyes left!"

"I wonder if the directors know how things are going," observed Miss Major.

"I bet they ain't on to it!" Miss Crilly wagged her head decisively.

"But who'd dare tell 'em?" queried Mrs. Crump.

"Excuse me!" giggled Miss Crilly.

CHAPTER XI

"SO MYSTERIOUS"

"Are you busy?" asked Miss Leatherland at the threshold of Miss Sterling's room.

"No, indeed! I was wondering whether I'd go out on the veranda or sit here and mull. I'm glad you've come. Take this chair--it's the easiest."

"Then I'll leave it for you." She started toward another.

"No, I don't like it!" Her hostess laughingly pushed her back.

"I'm too short for that one. I'm always wis.h.i.+ng I were as tall as you."

Miss Leatherland blushed at the little compliment and smiled over it.

"I don't know but I'm meddling in what is none of my business," she began shyly. "At first I thought I wouldn't say anything; then I decided I would do as I'd wish to be done by. I certainly should want to know anything of this kind--though perhaps you know already."

"What is it? Nothing dreadful, I hope."