“No, oh, no! But I can’t be here at the party!”
“Why not?” Ilga raised herself on her elbow.
“We had a letter from Cousin Floyd last night, and they want me to come to New York Wednesday morning.”
“Well, you aren’t obliged to go, if they do! Oh, you haven’t a bit of spunk!”
“It isn’t that, Ilga. Father thinks I ought to go, seeing it’s my vacation, and so does mother. Two of my girl cousins that I haven’t ever seen are going to sail for Germany in a day or two, and they aren’t coming back for years, maybe, and they want me to help them receive at their farewell party—”
“Oh, yes! I s’pose their party’s better’n mine!” Ilga burst out scornfully. “If you do go, Polly Dudley, let me tell you I’ll never speak—”
“My dear!” Miss Price arrested the rash words on Ilga’s lips, and took the hot cheeks between her cool palms.
The excited girl sobbed out her penitence and her disappointment in the nurse’s arms, while Polly sat by, distressed at the way things were going.
When the tears were spent, the three talked the matter over quietly,—or as quietly as Ilga would allow. At first she decided peremptorily that if Polly could not be there she would have no party at all; but arguments and persuasions finally had their effect, and the plans were left unaltered, Glen Stewart being chosen in place of Polly.