Polly and Eleanor

by Lillian Elizabeth Roy

"Ah feel happy to state that Ah will never defer the coming of that same millennium by any trifle like a few horses given away to a less fortunate friend."

All that evening Polly and Eleanor were as cordial and chummy as ever to observers, but no one knew that the two girls had changed places. Only Anne knew that Eleanor had been in the kitchen weeping, and even she did not know the cause of the tears. She fancied there had been a girlish quarrel between the friends but that would soon be made up again. So she paid no further attention to the case.

Eleanor felt humbled by the frank truth spoken by Polly, and realizing that it was absolutely as her friend had stated, she tried to impress upon Polly that she was repentant and would never again do or say a thing that might offend. Hitherto Eleanor had taken for granted that she was more experienced in every way than her simple little friend of the ranch; and without meaning to take the upper hand, had actually assumed that position, until she had reached the point where Polly rebelled against this friendly leadership.

But after the fearless speech from Polly that afternoon, Eleanor comprehended how far behind she really was in this warfare between egotism and egoism. She began to understand that the first expressed stubbornness and selfishness which eventually would result in unhappiness for all concerned; while egoism meant exactly what Polly was trying to demonstrate for herself—that upright fearless stand for Truth, and the sacrifice of everything that interfered with the perfect working out of the highest good.

Hence, without meaning to do so, and in fact, never realizing that it was so, Polly took the lead in everything after that day. When with her friend, Eleanor seldom exaggerated and never took the aggressive attitude again. And with others, she seemed to be developing a quieter and more lovable disposition. But her family and friends declared it was due to the fact that she was out-growing her tom-boy habits.

Sunday morning was far spent before the family met under the oak trees for their first meal. Seeing how late it was, Mrs. Brewster and Sary decided to have but two meals that day—a combination breakfast and lunch and a good dinner and supper about five o'clock. The very unusual break in the habits of other Sabbaths, and the various causes that led to such a change, kept every one lounging quietly about the house and porch.

Mr. Maynard took advantage of the restful hours, to ask Barbara just how much money she needed to defray her expenses in camp, with her mother. And in spite of her mentioning an exorbitant sum, he silently wrote out the check for her.

Barbara had expected rebellion and so was prepared to argue that she needed a new wardrobe for such a select gathering, but finding her father had offered no resistance, she wished she had demanded much more. Had she but known that the only reason he gave her what she wanted, was the qualm of conscience he felt. He was really glad to have his daughter so eager to join her mother in the East, so that he would be relieved of the nagging and unhappiness he was always subjected to when his wife and oldest daughter were with him.

But there was a sub-conscious reason, too, for his ready writing of the check. He was as eager to have Eleanor live with Anne and her mother in New York, as the girl was to go there. And this unexpected plan might meet with various objections from his wife if she dreamed of the extra cost it would be. As he seldom came to an open quarrel with Mrs. Maynard, he considered he was placating both wife and daughter by extending this generous sum of money for their pleasures. Should they offer strenuous objections against Eleanor's plan to live in New York, he would have one cudgel, at least, to use against them.

The sinking sun was bathing Rainbow Cliffs in a glory of color before the echo of the lumbering ranch-wagon was heard sounding across the crater. Then every one ran out upon the terrace to watch the home-coming of the weary boys.