In the days that followed, Sidney’s first admiration for Pola returned. Though Pola would never again be the idol she was much more enjoyable as a chum. Her spirits, though an affectation, were infectious and gay; in her pretty clothes and with her pretty face she made Sidney think of a butterfly, a fragile, golden-winged, dainty flitting butterfly. She professed to enjoy everything they did—even to the picnics. She tramped endlessly in her unsuitable shoes without a murmur of fatigue and Sidney suspected that she really did care a great deal for her cousin Dugald’s approval.
With Mr. Dugald they motored to Highland Light and to Chatham. They toured the shops at Hyannis. They sailed with Captain Hawkes on the Mabel T. They rose very early one morning and went to the Coast Guard Station to watch the drill and then ate ham and eggs with Commander Nelson. More than once Sidney donned the cherry crêpe de chine and dined with Mrs. Allan and Pola and Dugald at the hotel, feeling very grand and traveled.
But to Sidney’s deep regret Pola professed an abhorrence of swimming.
“Just please don’t ask me,” she had begged, shuddering. “I loathe it! It’s one of my complexes. Of course I’ve gone swimming in almost every body of water on the globe, but I hate it. You’ll spoil my fun utterly if you even try to make me!” After that Sidney could not urge. She did not know what complexes were, but Pola had made them sound real and convincing and a little delicate. Though Sidney missed the jolly swims with Lavender and Mart she refrained from even a hint of her feelings.
Often when they were together Pola waxed confidential over her cousin. “He’s a thorn in Aunt Lucy’s side,” she explained one day as the girls lounged in Pola’s room at the hotel, a huge box of candy on a stool between them. “She always wants him to go in for society and to go abroad with her and do all the fashionable resorts on the Continent, but couldn’t you see him? Not for Duggie boy, ever! When she starts planning something like that he bolts off somewhere and the next thing you hear is that he’s painted a wonderful picture and sold it or had first mention or a gold medal. Of course that makes him terribly interesting and there are dozens of single ladies from forty to fourteen itching to catch him. And Dug’s such a simple old dear that he doesn’t know it. But his mother does and she has them all sorted over and the eligible ones ticketed. You see Dug will be dreadfully rich some day and goodness knows what he’ll do with the money for he hasn’t the brains of a child where business is concerned. His father’s even richer than Dad.”
Sidney literally blinked before the picture Pola drew—blinked and blushed that she had dared angle for Mr. Dugald herself like the forty-to-fourteen single ladies. Mr. Dugald belonged to a world that was foreign to the Romley girls, Pola’s dazzling, peacock-world.
Sidney felt immensely flattered that Pola had taken her in among her peacocks. (Secretly, too, she considered that she carried herself well among them. She was most careful of her dress, now!) She did not know that Pola’s sort instinctively seeks out someone to dazzle, that Pola’s generosity was a part of the dazzling process. She thought Pola wonderful to accept so casually her gilded privileges. Why, if Pola didn’t like a dress or a hat or a pair of shoes she simply didn’t wear it; she could buy anything she wanted from any one of the priceless bits of jewelry in the shops at Hyannis to the delectable sweets in the tea-rooms on Commercial Street. She could do just as she pleased—even more than Mart, for she never had to darn or mend or wipe dishes or dust or hang up her clothes or brush them. Realizing all this Sidney came to forgive that first condescension that had stung; she thought Pola little short of an angel to be so prettily friendly with them all.
So engrossed was Sidney in basking in Pola’s favor that for a time she felt no compunctions at deserting Mart and Lavender; in fact she did not even think of them. Both Mart and Lavender had become suddenly very busy with affairs that kept them out of sight. If, once in awhile, Sidney wondered what they were doing something of Pola’s or something Pola said quickly crowded the thought from her head. But one afternoon they encountered Mart as they strolled toward the Green Lantern to sit under its gay awnings and drink tea. Sidney introduced Mart to Pola and to cover Pola’s rude stare she added quickly: “We’re going down to the Green Lantern, Mart. Won’t you come with us?” conscious as she said it that her voice sounded stilted.
“No, thanks. I’m going to do something lots more exciting than sitting there! And I’m in a hurry, too.” And with that Mart swung on past them, her head high.
Sidney had a moment’s longing to run after her and coax her to come, but Pola’s light giggle checked her. “Isn’t she a riot? I’d have died if she’d come with us!”