The deacons were slightly uneasy; the frown on Douglas's forehead was deepening.
“Oh, see how serious he looks,” she teased, with a toss of her head toward the grim-visaged pastor.
“Is this some trick?” he demanded, sternly.
“Don't be angry,” she pleaded. “Wish me luck.”
She held out one small hand; he did not take it. She wavered, then she felt the eyes of the deacons upon her. Courage returned and she spoke in a firm, clear voice: “I am going to run away.”
Douglas stepped before her and studied her keenly.
“Run away?” he exclaimed incredulously.
“Yes, to the circus with Jim.”
“You couldn't DO such a thing,” he answered, excitedly. “Why, only a moment ago you told me you would never leave me.”
“Oh, but that was a moment ago,” she cried, in a strained, high voice. “That was before Jim came. You see, I didn't know HOW I felt until I saw Jim and heard all about my old friends, how Barker is keeping my place for me, and how they all want to see me. And I want to see them, and to hear the music and the laughter and the clown songs—Oh, the clown songs!” She waltzed about, humming the snatch of melody that Mandy had heard the morning that Polly first woke in the parsonage.