<h2 id="c8"><br/>CHAPTER VIII <br/><span class="sc">Possibilities</span></h2>
<p>“‘Rose of the World,’ my fate is to
be decided on this coming Christmas
night.” Polly O’Neill
made this surprising statement on the same
evening following the adventure that had
befallen her and Betty earlier in the afternoon.
The seven girls were sitting in a
crescent upon sofa pillows before their
living-room fire with Rose on a low stool in
the center. Although it was now nearly
bedtime no mention had been made of the
cause of the two girls’ trip into town nor
of their unusual experience. Nan had come
home uncommonly tired and silent, and ever
since supper time had been curled up on
the floor using her pillow as a kind of bed
and almost half asleep.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_99">[99]</div>
<p>But at Polly’s extravagant words she sat
up and looked at her curiously and so did
all the other girls except Betty, who only
smiled sympathetically, nodding her head
reassuringly at Mollie, who seemed a little
puzzled and a little annoyed.</p>
<p>“I don’t see why it is going to be your
fate that is to be decided any more than
Betty’s or any of the rest of us, Polly.”
Mollie answered before their guardian could
speak. “Just because you are going to have
the chief part in our play when the rest of
us just have less important parts.”</p>
<p>But Polly, who was in one of her wildest
moods to-night, flung her arms unexpectedly
about her sister, almost overturning her
by her ardor.</p>
<p>“You don’t know what you are talking
about, Mollie Mavourneen, because you
haven’t heard my news, since I only learned
it to-day in town. It can’t affect Betty or
you or any of the other girls as it does me,
because you haven’t been yearning ever
since you were born to go on the stage as I
have until the very thought of the footlights
and the smell of the theater makes me
hungry and dizzy and frightened and so
happy!”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_100">[100]</div>
<p>“You haven’t been in the theater a dozen
times in your life, Polly O’Neill,” Mollie
returned, looking even more serious than
before remembering her mother’s opposition
and her own to Polly’s theatrical
ambition, “and you know nothing in the
world about what the life means.”</p>
<p>“Well, I will know pretty soon, Mollie.
You see I am sixteen now, almost seventeen.
I will be through school in another year—and
then—why if I have any talent mother
must be persuaded to let me study and see
what I can do. And thereby hangs my
tale!”</p>
<p>Two vivid spots of color were burning on
Polly’s high cheek bones, her eyes were
shining as though she saw only the joys of
the career she hoped to choose for herself
and none of its hardships, and she had to
hold her thin nervous hands tight together
to try to control her excitement.</p>
<p>“Don’t tell, please, Betty, I am waiting
to get more breath,” Polly pleaded, and
Betty nodded reassuringly. Not for worlds
would she have stolen this particular clap
of thunder from her friend, and it was rather
a habit with Polly not to be able to breathe
very deeply when she was much agitated.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_101">[101]</div>
<p>“When Betty and I drove into town this
morning,” she said in the next instant,
“you know we stopped by Miss Adams’
to go over our Christmas rehearsals with
her.” (Miss Adams was the teacher of
elocution at the Woodford High School and
greatly interested in Polly.) “Well, when
we had finished and she had told Betty of
half a dozen mistakes she was making and
me of something less than a hundred, she
said slowly but with a kind of peculiar
expression all the time, ‘Girls, I wonder if
you will be willing for me to bring a guest
to your Christmas Camp Fire play?’ Betty
answered, ‘Yes’ very politely, though you
know we have asked more people already
than we will ever have room for, but as I
was mumbling over some lines of a speech
I didn’t say anything. Then Miss Adams
looked straight at me and said slowly just
like this: ‘I am very glad indeed, Polly,
for your sake, You remember that I have
often spoken to you of a cousin of mine (we
were like sisters when we were little girls)
who is now one of the most famous, if not
the very most famous, actress in this country.
We write each other constantly and
several times I have spoken to her about
you. This very morning I had a letter
from her saying she was tired and as
she was to have a week’s holiday at Christmas
might she come down and spend
it with me if I would promise not to let
anybody know who she was nor make her
see any company.’ My heart had been
pounding just like this,” Polly continued,
making an uneven, quick movement with
her hand, “but when Miss Adams ended
in this cruel fashion it must have stopped,
because I remember I couldn’t speak and
felt myself turn pale. And then my beloved
Betty saved me! She answered in
just a little bit frightened voice. ‘But you
think, Miss Adams, that you may be able
to persuade your cousin to come to our
play, if we don’t talk about it or let other
people worry her, and then she can tell
whether Polly has any real talent for the
stage or whether we think so just because
she wishes us to.’”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_102">[102]</div>
<p>At the end of this long speech Polly
may have lost her breath. Anyhow, she
became frightened and stopped talking,
staring instead into the open fire.</p>
<p>“It will be a great trial for the rest of us
to have the great Miss Margaret Adams
watching us act our poor little Camp Fire
play,” Betty continued, “but I am sure we
must all be glad to have her for Polly’s
sake.”</p>
<p>After this there was silence for a moment,
so that the noise of the old clock ticking
above the mantel could be distinctly heard.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_103">[103]</div>
<p>Then the new guardian shook her head.
“I am sorry, Polly, but I am afraid that
having Miss Adams talk to you about your
future, whether she encourages you or not,
will not be right without your mother’s
consent.” Rose knew Mrs. O’Neill very
well and understood how she dreaded the
life of the stage for Polly’s emotional
and none too well-balanced temperament.
Polly’s fashion of living on her nerves
rather than on any reserve of physical
strength would be a serious drawback. For
a moment the older woman wished that she
might be able to accede to this Christmas
experiment and that the great actress might
be wise enough to recognize Polly’s unfitness
for acting and persuade her to dismiss
the entire idea from her mind.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_104">[104]</div>
<p>“Of course I will have to get mother’s
consent,” Polly agreed more quietly than
any one had expected, “but I think when I
write and tell her exactly how I feel she
will do as I ask.”</p>
<p>It was now ten o’clock and Nan Graham
rose first to make ready for bed. She was
followed by Eleanor and Sylvia, as it was
already an hour past their usual week-day
bedtime, but Betty laid her hand quietly
on Rose’s arm. “Please don’t go to your
room yet,” she whispered, “I have something
I want to talk to you about. It won’t
matter if only Polly and Mollie stay with
us.” She glanced expectantly at Esther,
supposing of course that she would retire
with the other girls, but instead Esther was
sitting with her big, awkward hands clasped
before her and such an utterly miserable
expression on her plain face that Betty forgot
her own problem and intended sacrifice.</p>
<p>“What on earth is the matter with you,
Esther Clark?” she demanded a little indignantly.
“Half an hour ago you looked
as you usually do, and I am sure I have
heard no one since say anything to hurt
your feelings. Why, please, should you now
look as if you had lost your last friend on
earth?”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_105">[105]</div>
<p>Esther laughed nervously. “Please don’t
be angry, Betty, or Miss Dyer, or Polly, and
don’t think I mean to be hateful or unaccommodating,
but really I don’t think I
can sing on the evening of our Christmas
entertainment. I have been trying to
make up my mind to tell you for days and
days, that I know I shall simply break down
and disgrace us all.”</p>
<p>“And since you heard that we were to
have a famous woman as a member of
our audience you are more sure than ever
that you won’t be able to sing?” Polly
questioned. Esther nodded silently, while
Polly’s eyes gazed past her as though they
were trying to solve some puzzle.</p>
<p>“It is odd, isn’t it,” she continued, speaking
to all or to none of the little company.
“Here I am with just a slight talent for
acting, and perhaps not even that, dreaming
and longing to have this Miss Adams’
criticism, even though I may break down
when the time comes, and here is Esther
with a really great gift liking to hide her
light under a bushel. Oh me, oh my, and
it’s a queer world, isn’t it?”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_106">[106]</div>
<p>“Yes, but Esther isn’t going to hide her
light this time, it’s too silly of her,” Betty
rejoined. “She has that perfectly wonderful
song that Dick got for her last summer
and has been practicing it for months.
Besides we have asked our funny old German,
who rescued us in the storm, to play
Esther’s accompaniment on his violin. He
has practiced with her in town and is
enraptured. Says Esther sings like a
‘liebe angel.’”</p>
<p>Esther rose slowly to her feet. “Of
course if you really wish me to, Betty, with
all you have done for me——”</p>
<p>But Betty gave her an affectionate push
toward the bedroom door.</p>
<p>“Oh, go to bed, Esther, what I have done
for you has nothing to do with your singing
and certainly gives me no right to try to
run you. It is only that I don’t mean you
to take a back seat all your life if I can
possibly shove you forward.”</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_107">[107]</div>
<p>At any other time Esther might have
felt wounded at Betty’s so evidently wishing
to get rid of her and have her older
friends stay behind (for Esther had that
rather trying sensitiveness that belongs to
some shy people and makes them difficult),
but with Christmas near at hand secrets
were too much a part of Camp Fire life
to be regarded seriously, so that Esther
straightway left the O’Neill girls, Betty and
Rose, to themselves.</p>
<p>Then Betty went immediately over to a
closet and brought out the locked tin box.
As she opened it she explained her plan to
Rose, who said nothing at first, merely
leaning a little curiously over one of Betty’s
shoulders watching her take out her pretty
ornaments, while Mollie and Polly stood
guard on the other side.</p>
<p>Betty of course had the usual discarded
childish trinkets—a string of amber beads,
pins and a small ring—but these she put
hastily aside as of no value, and then with
a little sigh of admiration and regret
drew forth a really beautiful possession, a
sapphire necklace with tiny diamonds set
between the blue stones, which Betty loved
and had chosen for her special jewel.</p>
<p>“I expect this is worth the amount of
my debt,” Betty suggested huskily. Her
father had given her the necklace the last
summer they were in Europe together.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_108">[108]</div>
<p>But Rose Dyer shook her head decisively.
“Not that, Betty; indeed I have not yet
made up my mind whether you ought to
be allowed to part with any of your jewelry,
at least before you ask your brother Dick.”</p>
<p>Next the girls considered Betty’s blue
enamel watch which her brother had given
her on her last birthday and a small diamond
ring. She had just about decided
that she preferred to part with the ring
when Polly exclaimed thoughtlessly, “Are
those the papers you were so unwilling to
give up this afternoon, Princess?”</p>
<p>At this Betty nodded, frowning slightly.
They had decided not to make any mention
of the afternoon’s experience in order
that Nan should never hear about it.</p>
<p>“There is some mystery or other about
these papers,” she explained, picking up a
large envelope with an official seal on the
outside. “Father asked me to take good
care of this envelope all my life and never
to open it unless there was some very special
cause. As he never told me what the
reason should be I suppose I will keep it
sealed forever.” Then Betty with a little
cry of delight dropped the envelope inside
the box picking up another paper instead,
which had a gold seal and two strings of
blue ribbon pasted upon it.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_109">[109]</div>
<p>“What a forgetful person I am!” she
exclaimed in a relieved voice. “Why here
is a two hundred dollar bond which honestly
belongs to me, since once upon a
time I actually saved the money for a whole
year to buy it. It will pay all I owe without
any bother.”</p>
<p>And Betty tucking her precious box under
her arm, straightway the little company
made ready for bed.</p>
<div class="pb" id="Page_110">[110]</div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.