“I heard some of the girls talking of your gold mine and Rainbow Cliffs, and I wondered if you had made such close friends, so soon,” ventured Anne, guilefully.
“Oh, I did that! Nothing like putting on a lot of ‘dog’ if you want to make a splash in the puddle,” hastily explained Eleanor.
Anne felt like laughing but she hid her face, and Polly turned pale with annoyance.
“Why, Nolla! How could you? You know I’d rather be considered a nobody than stand in a false light. Now what can I do to clear this up?”
“It isn’t false light at all, Polly. You can’t do anything now without making me out a fibber,” retorted Eleanor.
“You are acting just like your sister Bob might have done! That’s the worst thing I can say to you,” scorned Polly.
“And I did it all for you, too!” whimpered Eleanor.
“Didn’t I tell you, back at Pebbly Pit, that I wanted to cut my own cloth? For goodness’ sake, don’t interfere in my private life again!”
“But you’ve got to let folks know you’re someone, or you will never climb to the top of the heap,” argued Eleanor, stubbornly.
“I have my own method of reaching the top, Eleanor, and it is not that way. I was Polly Brewster before you ever knew me and I am that same Polly Brewster even after having a gold mine and a mile of lava-jewels thrust down my throat. Don’t say another word!”