Yet all that morning the impertinence of Senator Barron’s only daughter occupied more of Polly’s mind than her lessons, and at recess her indignant thoughts sprang into words. She went straight to where Ilga was entertaining two of her chosen intimates with chocolate creams.
“What did you mean by treating Leonora so rudely?” demanded Polly, threatening sparks in her usually gentle eyes. “She is my friend, and I wish to tell you that you mustn’t ever act like that to her again!”
Ilga’s box of sweets stopped on its polite way to the new-comer.
“Huh!” sneered the owner of it, “if you think you are going to order me round, you’re mistaken! I guess I shan’t associate with every tramp that comes along—so there, Polly Dudley!”
“Leonora isn’t any more of a tramp than you are!” Polly burst out hotly.
“No, she isn’t—‘than you are!’” retorted Ilga, with sarcastic emphasis and a disagreeable laugh.
Polly’s eye blazed. She clinched her little fists.
“And you are too contemptible to—talk with!” she cried scornfully, and whirled away.
But Ilga’s instant rejoinder seemed to retard her feet, for she was conscious of walking slowly, missing none of the words that bit into her sensitive heart.
“Oh! I am, am I? Well, you are a regular nobody! You put on airs just because Dr. Dudley adopted you; but he isn’t anybody! He wouldn’t stay at the hospital for that little bit of a salary if he was. He can’t get a place anywhere else—he’s a no—body!”