“Oh, she isn’t an especial friend, but I feel sorry for her because she has to wear such old clothes—­and she loves pretty things.”

“Why doesn’t she get pretty things, then, while she is about it?”

“She can’t!” cried Polly.  “She has to take what Miss Sniffen gives her.”

“Oh, I see!  Well, I reckon I’d look sour if I were dependent on that Miss Sniffen for clothes.”

Polly chuckled.  “I can’t imagine it!”

“It would come pretty hard!” Colonel Gresham shook his head musingly.  “It is a shame that those women are not better treated!  I’ll take them to ride as often as I can—­you tell them so, Polly!”

“I will!” Polly beamed her delight.  “It’s lovely of you!  It will do them no end of good.  They stay cooped up in the house too much.  You see, there’s so much red tape about going out even for a little walk, that sometimes they’d rather stay at home.”

“I’m going to talk to Randolph about it when I get a chance.  He is too sensible a man to let this sort of thing go on.”

“Oh, but you mustn’t make him think there has been the leastest mite of complaint!  If anybody finds a word of fault, she’ll get turned out!  They’re afraid of their lives!”

“This little woman back here doesn’t look afraid.”

“No, she’s different.”  Polly cast a look at her.

Mrs. Adlerfeld caught it and smiled back, a bright, happy smile, as if, indeed, she had “lots o’ joy.”

CHAPTER XVI

THE HIKING CLUB

“Oh, Miss Nita!  What do you think?” Polly burst into the room full of excitement.  “Chris has gone!”

“Gone?  Where?”

“To Australia!”

“Not alone?”

“Oh, no!  His father is with him.  We never knew he was coming—­till there he was!  For a minute Chris hardly knew him!  Isn’t that queer?  But he didn’t look like himself.  His hair is cut close to his head!  What do you suppose he did it for?  It isn’t becoming!  But, oh, you ought to have seen Chris!  He jumped right into his father’s arms and cried and cried and cried!  Mr. Morrow cried, too, almost as hard as Chris!  We had a pretty exciting time!”

“When was it?” put in Miss Sterling.

“This noon.  Mother did finally persuade him to stay to dinner—­he wasn’t going to!  I don’t see why he was in such a hurry to get away!  Oh, I shall miss that boy awfully!  He is always just so—­never cross or pouty, or anything.  Sometimes he has been pretty blue—­I suppose thinking of his father and wondering why he didn’t come.  It has been almost two years!  It won’t seem a bit natural without Chris. I shall have to come over here and bother you more than ever.”  Polly sighed a bit sorrowfully and dropped on a hassock at Miss Sterling’s feet.

“You know you couldn’t come too often, my dear.”

“I feel sometimes as if I were a nuisance,” laughed Polly.  “I guess Miss Sniffen thinks so.  She looks at me so queer when she meets me in the hall.”