But no, Polly was still equal to the emergency.
“You need not hold me, Aunt Maria,” she said, in a quiet voice, “I can go without that. Good night, children. I am sorry our jolly time has had such an unpleasant ending. Now then, I’ll go with you, Aunt Maria.”
“In front, then,” said Aunt Maria. “No loitering behind. Straight to your room.”
Polly walked down the dusty ladder obediently enough; Aunt Maria, scarlet in the face, stumped and waddled after her; Helen, very pale, and feeling half terrified, brought up the rear. All went well, and the truant exhibited no signs of rebellion until they reached the wide landing which led in one direction to the girl’s bedroom, in the other to the staircase.
Here Polly turned at bay.
“I’m not going to my room at present,” she said. “If I’ve been naughty, father can punish me when he comes home. You can tell anything you like to father when he comes back on Monday. But I’m not going to obey you. You have no authority over me, and I’m not responsible to you. Father can punish me as much as he likes when you have told him. I’m going downstairs, now; it’s too early for bed. I’ve not an idea of obeying you.”
“We will see to that,” said Aunt Maria. “You are quite the naughtiest child I ever came across. Now then, Miss, if you don’t go patiently, and on your own feet, you shall be conveyed to your room in my arms. I am quite strong enough, so you can choose.”
Polly’s eyes flashed.
“If you put it in that way, I don’t want to fuss,” she said. “I’ll go there for the present, but you can’t keep me there, and you needn’t try.”
Aunt Maria and Polly disappeared round the corner, and poor Helen stood leaning against the oak balustrade, silently crying. In three or four minutes Aunt Maria returned, her face still red, and the key of the bedroom in her pocket.