Of course Polly did the greater share of the talking, but now and then Richard Hunt would speak for several moments at a time and afterwards there would be odd intervals of silence.
Mrs. Wharton could not hear what was being said, and she scarcely wished to return to the sitting room. She was still far too worried and nervous, although, having an engagement that must be kept, she wished to say good-by to Polly before leaving the hotel.
Richard Hunt rose immediately upon Mrs. Wharton’s entrance.
“I am ever so sorry to have made such a long visit,” he apologized at once, “and I hope I have not interfered with you. Only Miss O’Neill and I have been having a pretty serious and important talk and I did not realize how much time had passed.”
Polly’s eyes had been fastened upon something in the far distance. Now she glanced toward her guest.
“Oh, you need not apologize to mother for the length of your stay. When she hears what we have been discussing she will be more than grateful to you,” Polly interrupted.
“You see, mother, Mr. Hunt does not agree with me, as I thought he would. Who ever has agreed with me in this tiresome world? He also thinks that I must stop acting at once and go away with you, if my family and the doctors think it necessary. And he has frightened me terribly with stories of people who have nervous breakdowns and never recover. People who never remember the lines in their plays again or what part they are expected to act. So I surrender, dear. I’ll go away with you as soon as things can be arranged wherever you wish to take me.” And Polly held up both her hands with an intended expression of saintliness, which was not altogether successful.
“Bravo!” Richard Hunt exclaimed quietly.
Mrs. Wharton extended her hand.
“I am more grateful to you than I can express. You have saved us all from a great deal of unhappiness and I believe you have saved Polly from more than she understands,” she added.