grocer jack was in the kitchen, and benedicta called, “miss polly!”
the man greeted her with the smile that he usually wore.
“good-morning,” he said. “you’re goin’ to have comp’ny!”
“am i?” she asked in surprise. “one visitor has just left. who else is coming?”
“wal,” replied the grocer, “all i know is what richmond told me, jus’ ’s i was startin’ out.”
“richmond?” repeated polly questioningly.
“yere, ’xpress agent, ticket agent, freight agent, telegraph operator—all hands in one. he said he had a telegraph for you, an’ you was goin’ to have comp’ny, he guessed, comin’ on the quarter-of-twelve train this noon.”
“but why didn’t he send me the telegram?” polly’s eyes were wide with amazement.
grocer jack puckered up his mouth and raised his eyebrows.
“i guess ther’ wasn’t anybody lyin’ round handy ’t could come. he said i could tell ye the drift of it.”
“did you see it?” questioned polly.
“only as he had it in his hand. i—”
[156] “why didn’t he send it up by you?” she broke in.
“i dunno. guess likely he didn’t think ’s he could. i didn’t.”
dismay sat on polly’s face.
“and don’t you know whom it was from?”
“i was tryin’ to think. i can’t seem to remember. it was a funny name—i’ve heard it before somewhere.”
“it wasn’t from my father, was it?” excitement in her voice.
“le’ ’s see, your name’s—”
“dudley. my father is robert dudley.”
“no, ’twa’n’t that,” was the slow answer.
“sardis merrifield?”
“that’s the ticket! i know now where i’d heard it! i remembered that ‘church in sardis,’ there in revelations, you know. yere, he’s the one. he’s comin’ this noon. whatever made anybody name a boy sardis! ’xpectin’ of him, was you?”
polly nodded absently. she was looking at the clock and making a quick calculation. was there time to get down to overlook before that 11.45 train? she decided she could do it.
running upstairs, she begged lilith to get dolly and herself ready for the ride, while she slipped into a fresh frock and then out to the garage.
she stood gazing at the car in a bewildered way, when benedicta rushed up with a little wailing cry.
[157] polly turned, and the woman began to weep into her hands.
“what in the world!—first the car and now you! am i dreaming or not?”
“oh, miss polly! miss polly! i wish it was a dream! sinners and snobs, i wish it was!”
“what is the matter, benedicta? what are you crying for?”
“oh, dear! oh, dear! i wish i hadn’t ever touched your chariot at all!”
“where is my car?” asked polly quietly.
“oh, miss polly!—it’s—down in overlook!”
“did you have an accident? what is the trouble? stop crying, and tell me about it!”
“i will, miss polly—oh, to think i should hurt your beautiful car!” and again benedicta wept.
“but what did you do to it?”
“i—i can’t bear to say it!”
“i will wait till you can. we must get to overlook in time to meet that train, and i’m going to drive this car, if it’s drivable, no matter whose it is.” polly proceeded to test the steering-gear and the brakes, without a look towards the sobbing benedicta.
“if that old sardis had only waited till to-morrow or next day,” began the weeping woman, “then you needn’t have known anything about it—oh, dear! you’ll never trust me again, miss polly, and—and—oh, i didn’t mean to do it!”
polly threw up her head and laughed, a genuine,[158] exhilarating little laugh, which brought benedicta’s hands down from her face, showing her eyes big and red and staring.
“i hadn’t the least idea, benedicta, that you smashed my car on purpose.” she laughed again.
“teeters and tongs!” ejaculated the housekeeper, “if you ain’t the limit!”
“i am afraid my patience will be at the ‘limit’ if lilith and dolly don’t come pretty quick.”
“oh, i don’t want ’em to, till i’ve told you how it happened!”
“hurry up, then!”
“i will, i will!” and benedicta dropped into the doorway at polly’s feet. “i didn’t smash it, miss polly, as you said—that is, i only smashed up a headlight and one wheel. you see, i went down the hill careful, just as you told me to, and was goin’ along fountain street pretty good, when who should i spy comin’ towards me, in an auto, but my miss flora and mr. aimé! i couldn’t believe my eyes at first, and i said to myself, ‘it ain’t them!’—‘it is, too!’—‘it ain’t!’—‘it is!’—just like that. then, when i see they were real flesh and blood, if i didn’t steer for ’em—not thinkin’, i s’pose, but that i was drivin’ a horse an’ buggy—and before they could get out o’ my way bang—! i was right into ’em! the queer part is, i didn’t hurt them a mite, or their car, either. but what did make me do such a fool thing—that’s what i’d like to know!”
[159] “you are not the first one, benedicta, that has run into another car.”
“don’ know ’s i want to be a fool ’cause somebody else is! wal, mr. aimé towed my—your car to the garage that dick ringo keeps—i’ve known dick ever since he was an infant, and he let me have this car. he said it was a dandy, and you’d never know the difference. but i told him, ‘don’t you b’lieve that nonsense, dick ringo!’—‘know the difference!’ i saw what would happen soon ’s you set your eyes on it, an’ i was scared out o’ my senses. dick said they’d fix up yours good as new; so i kep’ comfortin’ myself all the way home by sayin’ it might ha’ been worse. but i couldn’t bear to have you know it—no, i couldn’t. an’, miss polly, what do you think! my miss flora and mr. aimé want me to come live with them, same as i did before. but i said, ‘no, sir! i’m goin’ to stay with miss polly to the last minute she’s here, an’ if she comes up to overlook mountain next year and the next and the next, i’m with her through the very last next.’—my, there’s miss brooks luggin’ that child!” and benedicta ran across the lawn to take dolly from the arms of lilith.
the miles to the railway station were covered in good time, and the borrowed car was waiting for sardis merrifield when the first whistle of the 11.45 train rang down the narrow valley of overlook.
[160] as the big locomotive appeared round the curve, dolly was quiet with suppressed excitement. sardis was coming! once more she would hear his loving voice! every pulse in her frail little body thrilled with the thought of it. as the cars glided by, she peered eagerly from the automobile in the hope of seeing his familiar face at one of the windows. but she could recognize no one. with nerves at high tension, she watched the people as they filed out of the train. the little station-house hid the rear car, and her eyes wandered back and forth.
“i’ll go round in front,” said polly, and her lithe figure disappeared on the other side of the building.
she did not come back.
dolly sat alert and breathless, a sudden terror growing in her heart lest her watching were all in vain.
the train moved away, and still polly was not in sight.
“i’m afraid—” began dolly softly.
then polly appeared—alone!
“he hasn’t come!” the watchers heard her say. “dear little girl, don’t feel bad!” for the child’s eyes were threatening an overflow. “probably he missed his train. all we have to do is to wait for the next.”
the tone was heartening, and dolly began to smile.
[161] “i was afraid he wouldn’t come at all,” she confessed.
“he will come,” polly assured her confidently.
“how soon is the next train?” questioned lilith.
“in about an hour and a half. we’ll go uptown and get some ice-cream.”
at this delightful suggestion dolly brightened. of course, sardis would come on the next train. how foolish she had been to lose hope!
before they left the station, polly called at the telegraph office and obtained her message, leaving instructions to have any possible future telegrams delivered to her at once. the slip of yellow paper was fascinating to dolly, since it seemed to bring her brother nearer.
expect me on 11.45 train to-morrow.
sardis merrifield
that was all it said. the date was of the previous day.
the cream was all that the little girl’s fancy had pictured it, and the pineapple ice that polly added made it quite the finest that she had ever tasted. if sardis had been sitting at her side her joy would have been perfect. still, her anticipation was there to make up any lack, and she was very happy.
the 1.06 train thundered in and out of overlook valley; the borrowed car with its anxious passengers waited back of the station-house; but sardis merrifield did not appear.
[162] polly was philosophical.
“there’s nothing to do,” she said, “but to wait.”
“till when?” asked lilith.
polly studied her time-table placidly.
“the next, and last, train is due at 5.30.”
“oh!” was the dismayed exclamation from lilith and dolly.
polly laughed.
“never mind,” she said; “we’ll go over to the inn and have dinner—i think it isn’t too late,” as she consulted her watch. “and then—” she halted, thinking. “oh, i know! we’ll drive down to leslieboro and go to the movies!”
“oh, my!” cried dolly, her eyes big with surprise.
“how will that do?” polly smiled.
“splendid!” returned the child.
“jolly,” said lilith. “there’s a good picture on this week. i remember reading of it in the gazette.”
in the proposed way the afternoon passed pleasantly, and the party was back at the overlook station when the last train rolled in. yet once more they were disappointed. only six passengers alighted, three women, a small boy, and two middle-aged men. sardis merrifield was missing.
polly inquired again at the telegraph office. there was no message; but the man of various[163] positions promised to send her whatever should come.
the drive up the mountain was for the most part silent. dolly was too full of grief to talk, and after a while she went to sleep on lilith’s arm. it had been a hard day for the little girl.
