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Page 15
"I'd like to come over some day," he said.
"Come NOW," said Rose.
"I wish I could, but I can't," said the boy. "I've an errand to do for
my aunt, and I ought to go now. I'll come some other day, perhaps to-
morrow. I've some money, and I'd like to treat."
He looked admiringly at Polly, and Rose was delighted.
"He's ever so much fun," she said, when Lester had gone to do the errand
that he had spoken of.
"He lives the next house to Evangeline," she continued, "and he's
awfully tired of her poetry."
Polly did not wonder at that.
"And I DO hope, when he comes, Evangeline won't come with him," said
Rose.
"So do I," agreed Polly, "only it may be that she's nice SOMETIMES."
Rose came closer, and looking straight into Polly's blue eyes, she said:
"She brings her old poetry book EVERY time!"
"Oh, dear, can't she leave it at home?" said Polly.
"She WON'T," said Rose, "and she's either writing in it, or reading it
all the time, so there's not a minute for play."
"Doesn't she care for 'Tag' or 'Hide-and-Seek?'" questioned Polly.
"She doesn't EVER like anything but that poetry," declared Rose.
"Oh, dear," sighed Polly, for she felt that if Evangeline were to come
often, she would spoil much of the visit that, without her, would be so
pleasant.
"We'll be out sometimes," said Rose, "for Aunt Rose will take us about,
and we're to go to the studio some day when Aunt Lois goes. I've been
there, and the pictures are lovely, and some days we shall drive, and
then if she comes she won't find us."
"If she'll come on the days that we're OUT, and stay away the days that
we're at home, it will be just FINE!"
"Oh, Rose, I believed it's naughty, but I would be glad if it happened,
just HAPPENED that way," Polly said.
CHAPTER IV
THE VILLAGE NUISANCE
At Sherwood Hall Polly was greatly missed, and her playmates felt less
interest in their games now that she was not with them.
In all the village there was no one so lonely as Aunt Judith. She missed
the merry chatter of happy, cheery Rose. Bright, and merry she had been,
even although there were many things that she longed for, and could not
have, most of all, some one to love her.
Now, as Aunt Judith busied herself about the cottage, or out in the tiny
garden, she realized how much the child's hands had helped.
"She used to dust for me," she would say to herself, as she moved about
the tiny sitting room, putting it in order.
"She always fed the chickens," she murmured, one morning, on her way out
to the coop.
She stooped to open the door, when a shrill voice shouted at her.
"Look out! Look out! The ol' rooster's mad!"
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