“Do you know, Polly,” announced Betty, as they returned to the corridor, “I adore that uncle of yours.”
“So do I,” agreed Lois; “he’s a duck, and I’m so glad he and Dad know each other.”
Polly smiled happily.
“Funny thing,” she replied, “but do you know, so do I.”
As the carriage jogged through the mud on its way to the station, Uncle Roddy decided that visiting and having tea with three very interesting and lively young ladies was much more entertaining then he had expected.
[CHAPTER VII—BETTY’S DUCKING]
Betty was bored. The impatient look in her eyes and the disgusted expression of her mouth could be described by no other word.
She leaned dejectedly against a big tree on the edge of the pond and watched the girls skate round and round in dizzy circles. A white boy’s sweater enveloped her slender body and accentuated the forlorn droop of her shoulders. Her white berry cap was pulled rakishly over one ear.
There was nothing apparently in the scene before her to warrant dissatisfaction. The sky showed a cloudless front, the sun was shining with determined cheerfulness over the snow-covered grounds, and the pond was frozen over with smooth mirror-like ice that beckoned invitingly to the most exacting skater.
Her wish of the previous chapter, that the rain would freeze, was certainly fulfilled.