“My dear child! It was a wonderful sight! No one gave the slightest thought to your bloomers. But now you shall have one of Ruth’s skirts,” returned the lady of the house, fervently.
CHAPTER VII—MRS. WELLINGTON’S THANKSGIVING
The moment Polly was given a skirt, she donned it gratefully and said to Mrs. Ashby, her hostess: “Now I must find Elizabeth and have her cared for. I left her with Anne.”
“Where—where is she? I’ll send James for them. But I want you to keep quiet, or you’ll be prostrated, dear child.”
Polly smiled—she prostrated! But she explained: “Anne is sitting on the grass on the side street around the corner, taking care of the girl who fainted in the back-room of the theatre.”
James was summoned from the front window where he had been watching the fight against the fire, and now took his orders eagerly. Polly pointed out the corner where she had left her friends and, in another moment, the butler was gone.
“I s’pose I ought to go and hunt up my friends who escaped over the roofs,” ventured Polly.
“You’ll rest here upon this divan, or your parents will sue me!” retorted Mrs. Ashby, trying to compel, with gentle hands, obedience to her command.
Polly laughed softly. “My parents would sue you if you prevented me from doing my duty to others. Why, you-all make such a fuss over that pipe-climbing, and it is next to nothing for a Rocky Mountain girl. A day in a blizzard on the cliffs is ten times more hazardous.”
Mrs. Ashby was consumed with curiosity to ask this handsome girl who she was, and all about herself, but she controlled herself admirably, for she knew her guest ought to keep quiet.