“Yes, I see,” was the somewhat curt reply from behind the outspread paper.
“Mrs. Martins told me yesterday that the surgeons Dr. Barton brought to see Angelique think she may be able to walk in another year or so and I believe Cricket is to give up her crutches altogether in a few months,” Polly presently remarked.
In the sunshine Betty Ashton’s face shone with happiness. “Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” she remarked innocently.
“Of course, doing beautiful things for other people isn’t being of the slightest use in the world,” the other girl continued, as though talking to herself. “Yet Mrs. Martins also said yesterday, that she and Angelique believed they had strayed into Paradise they were so happy here at the cabin with the prospect of Angel’s growing better ahead of them. And I believe Cricket dances and sings with every step she takes nowadays.”
“But I?” interrupted Betty.
“No, of course you have had nothing in the world to do with it and I never accused you for a single instant,” her friend argued, and then Polly fell to reading the paper aloud.
“‘The friends of Doctor and Mrs. Richard Ashton, now of Boston, Massachusetts, but formerly of Woodford, New Hampshire, will be delighted to hear of the birth of their son, Richard Jr., on July the fourteenth.’ How does it feel to be an aunt?” the reader demanded.
“Delicious,” Betty sighed, and then began dreaming of her new nephew, wondering when she was to be allowed to see him, until Polly again interfered with her train of thought.
“‘Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wharton entertained at dinner last night in their new home in honor of Mr. Anthony Graham, our brilliant young congressman who has returned to Woodford for a few days.’ Well, I like that!” Polly protested. “Think of Frank and Eleanor daring to give a dinner party and asking none of their other old friends or relatives. They must feel set up at being married before the rest of us.”
For the first time Betty now actually took a few industrious stitches in her embroidery. “Oh, they probably did not have but two or three guests. You know how papers exaggerate things, Pollykins, I would not be so easily offended with my relations,” she protested.