CHAPTER XXIII
FINIS
POLLY O'NEILL was on her sister's front porch reading a letter fromDoctor Sylvia Wharton. It was now spring time.
Sylvia had written that Bobbin was getting on at school in the mostamazing fashion. Not only could she now pronounce Polly's name buthundreds of others, and she could certainly hear better than she hadseveral months before.
Nevertheless, Polly let the letter slide out of her hand and the tearscame to her eyes. She was not sad, however, only so extremely glad forBobbin's sake and for her own.
"After all, perhaps I am not so entirely selfish a human being as somepersons believe me," she announced to herself with a shrug of hershoulders. "For at least one little girl in this world does not thinkso, and never shall."
Then Polly closed her eyes and fell to dreaming. She was not reallyasleep, only resting. She had had rather a hard struggle after Mollie'sfire and her own unfortunate part in it. That wretched cold she hadtaken settled on her lungs immediately afterwards and she was now onlystrong enough to lead an ordinary existence. There was no thought of heracting again until the next fall.
She was not yet feeling particularly vigorous, so now although sheplainly heard the sound of a man's footsteps approaching the veranda,she made no effort to open her eyes. It was probably Billy or one of hisfarm men. If a question should be asked of her then would come the timefor answering it.
Nevertheless, she had not expected that the man would walk deliberatelyup to her and then stand in front of her without saying a word.
Miss O'Neill felt annoyed and her cheeks flamed with the two brightspots of color always characteristic of her. Notwithstanding, she openedher eyes coldly and calmly, haughtily she hoped.
The intruder did not flinch. He merely continued gazing at her and stillwithout speaking.
But Polly's flush burned deeper, although she also said nothing.
"I had to come, Miss Polly," Richard Hunt announced at last.
Polly motioned to a chair near by. "You were good--to trouble," shereturned slowly. "It has been four months since I saw you last and askedyou to come; and since then I have very nearly died."
Then she smiled and held out her hand with the utmost friendliness.
"Forgive me," she begged. "I am glad to see you at any time. I am afraidI am behaving like the preacher who reproaches the members of hiscongregation for not doing their duty and attending service on the verySundays when they have shown up."
But Richard Hunt would not be frivolous.
"Have you wanted to see me?" he asked gravely.
Polly nodded.
"Then why didn't you write or have some one tell me? I would have comeacross the world if I had known," he replied.
In return Polly shrugged her shoulders. "I did everything I could whenwe were in Colorado to persuade you to be friends with me again. Ibehaved without the least pride; I almost begged you to be kind to me.Of course you were very nice then and interested in Bobbin, but I couldnot go on forever pleading for your friendship. Still I thought at leastwhen you heard I was ill that you might be sorry."
Then to her own complete chagrin Polly felt her eyes filling with tears.
How big and strong and restful Richard Hunt looked! Why had she not hadthe sense to have married him in the days when he had cared for her?Somehow she believed that her life would have been ever so much happierand more satisfying. She could have gone on with her work too, becauseno one in the world except Richard Hunt had ever understood how much ofher heart was wrapped up in it--perhaps because he was an actor himselfand loved his own art.
Notwithstanding, Polly realized that she could scarcely cry before hervisitor for his affection, which she had so deliberately thrown away agood many years before. Moreover, what would Mollie think of her badmanners toward their guest?
Slowly she got up from her chair.
"Do come into the house with me and see my sister, Mr. Hunt?" she saidgraciously. "And you must stay and have lunch with us, or even longer ifyou will. I am sure my brother-in-law will be more than happy to meetyou again."
But Richard Hunt did not stir. "Please sit down again, Polly," he urgedmore gently. "You don't look strong enough to be walking about alone. Iwant to explain to you why I have seemed unappreciative of yourfriendliness. You will have to understand this in the future as well asnow, for possibly after today I shall not see you again."
"Oh!" Polly exclaimed a little huskily, and fortunately she could notsee how white her own face had turned. However, at this moment hercompanion was not looking at her.
"I can't be your friend, because I happen still to be too much in lovewith you for mere friendship," Richard Hunt continued in the quiet,self-contained fashion that had always made so strong an impression uponhis companion. "I know that I have had many years to get over thisfeeling for you, Polly, and that I should not trouble you by mentioningmy love again. Only I want you to forgive me and to realize why I mayhave seemed not to appreciate your wish to be friends."
But Polly was now smiling through her tears and holding out both handsin her old irrepressible Irish fashion that neither the years norcircumstances could change.
"But I don't want to be just friends with you either, Richard, if youare still willing for me to be something more after the way I havebehaved," she whispered. "You see I only pretended I wanted to be yourfriend so you would not give me up altogether."
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 98, "Westen" changed to "Western" (famous Western resort)
Page 110, repeated word "at" removed from text. Original read (taken herat at her word)
Page 132 "a nold" changed to "an old" (an old red jacket)
Page 140, "of" added to text (sides of the room)
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