“Oh, why?  I’d go in a minute if he’d ask me!”

“Isn’t there something we can talk about besides that detestable man!  How did Colonel Gresham enjoy Mrs. Adlerfeld?”

“I don’t know.  I haven’t seen him.  I guess I’d better go.  Mother may want me.”  Polly walked slowly toward the door.

“I hope I shall be in a more agreeable mood when you come next time,” smiled Miss Sterling.

“I hope so,” replied Polly soberly.

The door had shut, the light footfalls were growing faint, when Juanita Sterling began to sob.  Her lips twitched as she tried to suppress the tears.  It was no use, they would have their way, and she finally hid her face in her hands and let them go.

“Why, Miss Nita!  Dear Miss Nita!” Polly had her arms around her friend’s neck, crooning love words.

“I—­I—­didn’t hear you knock!” apologized Miss Sterling.

“Never mind, you darling!  I only gave one little tap—­and then I—­came in.  You don’t care, do you?  If you do, I’ll go right away.  But I’m sorry you feel so bad!  You’re not sick, are you?”

“N-no,—­oh, no!”

“Well, don’t tell me, unless you’d rather.  Sometimes I feel better to tell mother when things trouble me.”

Getting no answer, she went on.

“Should you like to have mother come over?”

“Mercy—­no!  Don’t tell anybody, Polly,—­will you?—­what a fool I am!”

“Of course, I won’t tell—­ever!  But you’re not a fool!  Nobody can help crying when things go wrong.  Miss Sniffen hasn’t been saying anything, has she?”

“Oh, no!  I haven’t seen her lately.”

Polly waited patiently.

“I came back for my handkerchief,” she explained.  “I thought I must have dropped it—­oh, there it is!”

“Was I dreadfully cross to you?  I didn’t mean to be, dear child!”

“You weren’t a bit!” insisted Polly.  “I ought to know better than to torment you about—­that man.  But I like him so well, I can’t understand why you don’t.  I wish you did!”

The sobs started again, and Miss Sterling got up quickly.

“I don’t see what makes me act—­like this!” she exclaimed fiercely.

Polly was not obtuse.  She began to think hard.  Still, Miss Nita had said—­Miss Nita would not lie!  It was beyond her understanding.

Miss Sterling wiped her eyes.

“You know we’re to go on a hike to-morrow,” said Polly tentatively.

“Ye-s,” feebly.  Then, “I’m not going.”

“Oh! why?”

“Don’t want to!  Should if it wasn’t for that!”

“Good reason,” commented Polly, and she waited for a retort, but none came.  “I’m afraid David will fuss,” she said finally.

“I don’t blame him one mite!” Miss Sterling broke out.

“Wh-why, you said—­I hadn’t done a thing!” Polly was plainly astonished.

“You haven’t!  But I don’t blame David all the same.”  Miss Sterling smiled a queer little equivocal smile.