Polly's First Year at Boarding School Part 31

The waiter, who was pa.s.sing the coffee, heard the question and said sadly:

"He died a month ago, Miss-of a cold in his head. We miss him sore," he added dolefully.

"What a shame!" exclaimed Polly and Lois together.

"I'll have to write Uncle Roddy and tell him," and Polly tried hard not to look amused.

The waiter looked grateful and after a polite "Thank you, Miss," left the room solemnly shaking his head.

The trouble with a good time is that there is always an end in sight. We often don't look for it, and then pretend it's not there. But we're sure to find it sooner or later lurking around the corner somewhere.

The end of this particular good time took the shape of the train to Albany, and the accusing hands of the hotel clock warned the Farwells of its near approach.

They saw the girls back to Seddon Hall and after repeated good-bys, drove off down the hill.

Polly and Lois watched the lamp on the carriage until it disappeared around a bend in the road.

"All over," sighed Lois, unwillingly coming back to earth. "And we missed study hour, and there's a Latin test tomorrow."

"Oh, bother Latin, we can get up early in the morning and cram. Lo, your mother and father are the dearest people I ever met. I mean it, truly,"

said Polly.

Lois looked at her intently. They were on the porch and it was dark-

"Don't you like Bob a little tiny bit, too?" she asked mischievously.

And Polly answered with provoking indifference:

"Why, of course."

CHAPTER XVI

GHOSTS

"Do you think you pa.s.sed?" asked Betty, joining Angela and Polly in the schoolroom corridor. It was the third day of examination week and the Freshmen had just finished the Literature exam.

"I hope so," Polly answered. "It was awfully fair, don't you think?"

"Yes; but tell me one thing," Angela insisted, coming to a standstill and putting her hands on Betty's shoulder. "What did you say for the hint that Portia gave Ba.s.sanio about the caskets?"

"Why, the song-'Tell me where is fancy bred, in the heart or in the head?'" Betty answered.

"Don't you see" (Polly took up the explanation), "bred and head and all the other lines ended in a word that rimed with lead, and Portia hoped that Ba.s.sanio would think of that and choose the right casket."

"Too deep for me. I do remember, now, Miss Porter saying something about it, but I skipped that question," replied Angela. "Still, I think I pa.s.sed."

They were on their way to Polly's room, but before they reached her door, Lois overtook them.

"Horrible news!" she announced. "Latin exam. this afternoon instead of tomorrow!"

"It can't be. How do you know?" demanded Betty.

"Saw it posted on the bulletin board."

"That woman's a fiend," Polly groaned. "I intended cramming this whole afternoon, and now what's to be done?"

"Anything particular you want to know?" Angela inquired. "Perhaps I can help you out a bit."

"No, there's no use; you'd have to begin from the very beginning,"

replied Polly, looking disconsolately out of the window at the glorious spring day.

Betty ruffled her hair and frowned.

"Something ought to be done to rile the Spartan," she said. "What shall it be?"

"She knows most of us will flunk," remarked Lois. "I suppose she'll be beastly sarcastic."

Angela, who had been curled up on the window seat and had apparently been paying no attention to the conversation, suddenly remarked:

"Give me a pencil, some one. I've an idea; it's not very clever, but it may annoy the Spartan."

"What is it?" they all demanded.

But Angela refused to tell. She got up, stretched lazily, and without a word to any one, left the room. In a few minutes she was back, wearing a thoroughly satisfied smile.

"Please tell us where you've been," teased Betty. "I'm bursting with curiosity."

"Why, I've been to the bulletin board. I wrote a little note to the Spartan."

That was quite enough for the girls. They flew over to the study hall corridor and crowded around the board. There at the end of the notice of the Latin examination, written in a big round hand, were the words:

"I came, I saw, I looked, I ran, I flew, I flunked!"

"Oh, that's too lovely for words!" gloated Lois. "Angela darling, I'll love you forever."

"Come on back to my room," urged Polly. "We don't want the Spartan to see us here; she'll know who did it."

"You're right; we had better fly. But O Jemima, wouldn't I love to watch her face when she first sees it!" chuckled Betty.

Once back in Polly's room the girls lapsed into silence and all opened Latin books, which doesn't mean, however, that they studied. Betty was wondering what particular chapter Miss Hale would choose for translation; Angela's thoughts were busy with a possible rhyme about the hard-heartedness of the Spartan, and Lois and Polly were thinking of the promised walk with Louise, which would have to be given up.

It was Connie who interrupted their thoughts by banging on the door.

"May I come in?" she called.