CHAPTER XII
PATRICIA AND A FEW OTHERS
DURING these days that were filled to the very brim with plans and the carrying-out of them Polly had little time for thoughts of David or herself. Not a word had come from her quondam lover, until she had almost ceased to expect to hear from him. To her astonishment, when she had time for reflection, she found that David did not seem to occupy the same place in her heart as before this overpowering interest in the hospital’s new possession. She did not quite understand it. She felt that she still loved David as well as ever, yet she was as confident as she had been on that night down at Samoosic Point, that she could not accept more promises which were almost sure to be broken.
Occasionally came a day when she would long for David with all the ardor of her nature. Even Overlook would seem commonplace in comparison with this irresistible passion to be to him what she once had been. Patricia, never very tactful, spoke one morning of David.
“Doesn’t he ever write to you?” she asked.
Polly’s simple negative did not satisfy her.
“Great lover he is!” she burst out. “It shows how much he really cares—to break off in this fashion!”
“But, Patty, you know we were never engaged,” returned Polly, flushing and paling with the memories which were thus suddenly brought before her.
“’Twasn’t his fault,” Patricia laughed. “Don’t you honestly think, Polly, that if you had consented to an engagement he wouldn’t have been so jealous? You see, then he’d have been sure of you.”
Polly shook her head. “It would have been just the same,” she said.