Polly and the Princess | Page 5

seem to recollect its expression."
"Look at her!" laughed Mrs. Dick. "She has it to perfection."
Miss Crilly's giggle preceded her words.
"She's like a beanpole with its good clothes on, ain't she? But, then, I
think Miss Sniffen is real nice sometimes," she amended.
"So are basilisks and beanpoles--in their proper places," retorted Miss
Major; "but they don't belong in the June Holiday Home."
"Are her rules so awful?" inquired Miss Mullaly anxiously.
"I don't like them very," answered the little Swedish widow.

"Mis' Adlerfeld puts it politely." laughed Miss Crilly. "I'll tell you what
they are, they are like the little girl in the rhyme--with a difference,--
'When they're bad, they're very, very bad, And when they're good,
they're horrid!'"
"I heard you couldn't have any company except one afternoon a week,"
resumed Miss Mullaly, after the laughing had ceased,--"not anybody at
all."
"Sure!" returned Miss Crilly. "Wednesday afternoon, from three to five,
is the only time you can entertain your best feller."
"Why, Polly Dudley was here Thursday morning!"
"Now you've got me!" admitted Miss Crilly. "She's a privileged
character. She runs over any blessed minute she wants to."
"And she brings her friends with her," added Miss Castlevaine,--"David
Collins and his greataunt's daughter,--Leonora Jocelyn,--Patricia
Illingworth, and Chris Morrow, and that girl they call Lilith, besides the
Stickney boys up in Foxford--huh!"
"She must be pretty bold, when it's against the rule," observed Miss
Mullaly.
"No," dissented Mrs. Albright, "it isn't boldness. Polly runs in as
naturally as a kitten. The rest don't come so very often. I shouldn't say
they'd let 'em; but they do."
"There's never any favoritism in the June Holiday Home--never!" Mrs.
Crump's brown poplin bristled with sarcasm.
"Maybe it's on Miss Sterling's account," interposed Mrs. Albright. "She
thinks so much of Polly, perhaps they hope it'll help to bring her out of
this sooner."
"Don't you believe it!" Miss Castlevaine's head nodded out the words
with emphasis. "Dr. Dudley's a good one to curry favor with."

"Is Miss Sterling a relative of his?" asked Miss Mullaly.
"No. Haven't you heard how they got acquainted? Quite a pretty little
story." Mrs. Albright settled herself comfortably in the rocker and
adjusted the cushion at her back.
The others, who were familiar with the facts, moved closer together and
nearer the window, both to facilitate their needles and their tongues.
"It was the day after Miss Sterling came, along in September," the
story-teller began, "and she was up in her room feeling pretty
lonesome--you know how it is."
Miss Mullaly nodded--with a sudden droop of her lips.
"She stood there looking out of the window toward the back of the new
hospital,--it was building then,--and she saw a little girl climbing an
apple tree. She watched her go higher and higher, after a big, bright red
apple that was away up on a top branch. Miss Sterling says she went so
fast that she fairly held her breath, expecting to see her slip; but she
didn't, she's so sure-footed, and it would have been all right if she
hadn't ventured on a rotten branch. When she stepped out on that and
reached up one hand to pick the apple, the branch broke, and down she
went and lay in a little heap under the tree.
"Well, Miss Sterling said she felt as if she must fly right out of that
window and go pick her up. But it didn't take her many minutes to run
down the stairs and out the front door--she didn't stop to ask
permission--and over across lots to Polly. She was in a dead faint, but
in a minute she came to, and Miss Sterling ran up to the house and got
Dr. Dudley and his wife, and they carried her in, and Miss Sterling
went too. The Doctor couldn't find that Polly was hurt at all, only
bruised a little--you see, the branches had broken her fall, and she was
all around again in a few days. Miss Sterling was pretty well upset by it,
so that the Doctor came home with her, and she had to go to bed, same
as Polly did! It made quite a stir here.
"Ever since then Polly has run in and out, any time of day, just as I hear

she does at the hospital. She's that kind of a girl, never makes any
trouble, and so nothing is said."
"I guess I shall break lots of the rules before I know what they are."
"You'll learn 'em soon enough, don't you worry! There's a long list; but
you'll get used to 'em after a while--we have to. There's nothing like
getting used to things. It's a great help."

CHAPTER III
POLLY ADDRESSES THE BOARD
"It is a shame, Miss Nita!" Polly was saying. "To