Amiability was one of Esther's dominant traits of character; yet she would have liked to shake Billy Webster until his teeth chattered or suppress him in almost any way. After all, what right had he to take this lofty tone with Polly? He was not a member of her family, not even her friend. Just because he had known all of them in their Camp Fire days in the woods and was devoted to Mrs. Wharton and to Mollie was not a sufficient excuse.
Therefore Polly's unexpected meekness of manner and tone was the more surprising—and dangerous.
"How did you happen to come to New York and to the theater, Billy?" she queried, ignoring his use of the "Miss." Frequently in times past they had called each other by their first names, when good feeling happened to be existing between them.
Instantly Billy looked a little more on the defensive. "I—I had to come to New York on business," he explained sullenly. "And Mollie had been telling me that she was kind of uneasy about you and that she felt there must be some reason you wouldn't give why you did not wish to come home for the holidays."
"So you undertook to play detective and find out?" Polly announced in the cool, even tones that made Billy hot with anger and a sense of injustice.
He was perfectly sure that he was right in his attitude toward her. She had been disobedient and audacious beyond his wildest conception, even of her. And yet she had a skilful fashion of making the other fellow appear in the wrong.
"I told Mollie that I would call on you and Esther," he returned, relapsing into his old-time familiarity. "You see, I told her that I was sure things were quite all right, but I wanted to convince her too. I didn't think you would mind seeing me. I thought you might even be glad to hear about your Woodford friends. So as Mollie gave me your address, I went out to your house at about eight o'clock. The maid told me that you had gone to the theater, told me which one. Of course I just supposed that you had gone to see a show. And that was pretty bad for two young girls! But when I got here and the curtain went up and you came out!—why, Polly, I just couldn't believe it at first, and then I got to thinking of how your mother and Mollie would feel and what might happen!" And Billy's voice shook in a very human and attractive fashion.
Instantly Polly's hand was laid coaxingly on the young man's coat sleeve. "But, Billy, seeing as now I have been and gone and done it already, why, think of me in any way that you please. Only don't tell on me for another week. The play is to last only through the holidays. And I promise on my word of honor to come home as soon as it is over and to tell mother every single thing."
"Word of honor?" Billy repeated slightingly. And of course, though Polly deserved her punishment his inflection was both rude and cruel.
Up to this moment the little party of three persons had been entirely uninterrupted. Now Esther heard some one coming quickly toward them. And turning instantly she understood the impression that this scene might make. The man was the leading actor of the company, Richard Hunt, who in a quiet way had shown an interest and an attitude of protection toward Polly. Now observing a strange young man, and Polly's evident agitation, it was but natural that he should suppose that some one was trying to annoy her.