"You see, she was all tired out over that sofa-pillow. I told her it was quite too ambitious a piece to do, and she was so discouraged I gave her some more money, and advised her to get something fresh. She had almost made up her mind to give up working for the fair altogether."
"Oh, dear me!" gasped Polly, quite overcome.
"Yes." Mrs. Forsythe leaned comfortably against the door-casing. It was such a comfort to tell her worries to Polly Pepper. "Clem said all the other girls were making such pretty things, and it was no use for her to try. She can't get up new ideas quickly, you know, and she was ashamed not to take in something nice, and so she said she didn't mean to do anything. I couldn't bear to have her give it up, for she ought to keep with you girls." Mrs. Forsythe's face fell into anxious lines. "She gets unhappy by herself, with no young people in the house and only my mother and me to brighten her up. So I talked with her a long while this morning, and at last got her to be willing to try again. Well, it's all right now, for she's started to find you, and go down-town to buy the things," and Mrs Forsythe smiled happily.
Polly sank to the piazza steps and buried her face in her hands.
"Why, my dear, are you ill?" Clem's mother deserted the door-casing and came quickly out. "Let me get you something."
"Oh, no, no!" Polly sprang to her feet and hurried down the steps. "I must go home," she said hoarsely; and not pausing to think, only to get to Mamsie, she sped away on the wings of the wind, not stopping until she had turned in at the little green wicket-gate where she wouldn't be likely to meet any one.
"Oh, dear, dear!"—and she hurried across the grass—"supposing Mamsie isn't at home! She was going out for Auntie. What shall I do?"
In her despair she raced over the greensward and plunged into the Wistaria arbor—to stand face to face with Clem!
Polly was too far gone in distress to say anything. Clem jerked up her head from the table, and raised a defiant pair of cheeks, wet and miserable. "Oh, dear, dear!" was all Polly could get out. But she stumbled in and put her arms around her neck, and down went the two heads together.
"I'm awfully sorry," blubbered Clem. "Oh, dear! I forgot my handkerchief."