“When I read this letter, of all Mr. Fabian has done with his Summer, I feel guilty,” said Polly to her friend, Nolla.
“Why should you? We had to rest and drop all idea of study so’s to be fresh for this year’s work. Didn’t we do it?”
“Yes, we rested, all right, Nolla; but it seems we might have done some of the work we planned to do, before we left New York. There is that chest with our colors, paper and other things—we never as much as unlocked it.”
“Polly, I can paint any sort of drapery you want, and in any light or shadow. I can paint a vase, a chair or a lamp; I can draw a hall, or a room, or a window. What more do you want? Why should we sit down and make loads of these things all summer, when we know how to do the work, already?”
“I don’t know, Nolla, except that we ought to practise!”
“Pooh! I’m ready for all the work they want to pile up on me, now and I’m glad I’ve been so lazy all summer.”
“To tell the truth, Nolla, I am more than ready to work with all my heart. I feel as if I would dry up if I played any more,” admitted Polly, laughingly.
With this desire to again take up their studies in New York, the girls left Pebbly Pit the second week in September. By the last of the month, they were eagerly planning with Mr. Fabian for the new year’s school work in art and decoration.
“I have a pleasant surprise for you, girls,” announced Mr. Fabian, after greetings were exchanged. They all sat under the locust tree in the little yard of the Studio.
“‘On with the dance,’” laughed Eleanor.