“There is a great fuss made about it all,” said Polly.
This was her remark when her father left the pleasant picnic dinner and drove away over the moor in search of Flower.
“There is a great fuss made over it all. What is Flower more than any other girl? Why should she rule us all, and try to make things uncomfortable for us? No, David, you need not look at me like that. If Flower has got silly Australian notions in her head, she had better get rid of them as fast as possible. She is living with English people now, and English people all the world over won’t put up with nonsense.”
“It isn’t Flower’s ways I mean,” said David. “Her ways and her thoughts aren’t much, but it’s—it’s when she gets into a passion. There’s no use talking about it—you have done it now, Polly!—but Flower’s passions are awful.”
David’s eyes filled slowly with tears.
“Oh, you are a cry-baby,” said Polly. She knew she was making herself disagreeable all round. In her heart she admired and even loved David; but nothing would induce her to say she was sorry for any part she had taken in Flower’s disappearance.
“Everything is as tiresome as possible,” she said, addressing her special ally, Maggie. “There, Mag, you need not stare at me. Your brain will get as small as ever again if you don’t take care, and I know staring in that stupid way you have is particularly weakening to the brain. You had better help George to pack up, for I suppose Nell is right, and we must all begin to think of getting home. Oh, dear, what a worry it is to have to put up with the whims of other people. Yes, I understand at last why father hesitated to allow the strangers to come here.”
“I wouldn’t grumble any more, if I were you, Polly,” said Helen. “See how miserable David looks. I do hope father will soon find Flower. I did not know that David was so very fond of her.”
“David is nervous,” retorted Polly, shortly. Then she turned to and packed in a vigorous manner, and very soon after the little party started on their return walk home. It was decidedly a dull walk. Polly’s gay spirits were fitful and forced; the rest of the party did not attempt to enjoy themselves. David lagged quite behind the others; and poor Maggie confided to George that somehow or other, she could not tell why, they were all turning their eyes reproachful-like on her. The sun had gone in now in the heavens, and the children, who had no sunshine in their hearts just then, had a vivid consciousness that it was late autumn, and that the summer was quite at an end.
As they neared the rise in the moor which hid Sleepy Hollow from view, David suddenly changed his position from the rear to the van. As they approached the house he stooped down, picked up a small piece of paper, looked at it, uttered a cry of fear and recognition, and ran off as fast as ever he could to the house.