CHAPTER XII
"LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES"
"Mollie O'Neill, if you don't tell me what you and Billy Webster have been whispering about all evening and why you look so worried, I don't think I can bear it a moment longer," Betty Ashton insisted, having at last found her friend alone for a moment, while the other girls and men were clearing the living room for the dance.
"There isn't anything to tell. At least there really is, but I have not been told just what," Mollie sighed in return.
"Then of course it's Polly?"
Mollie nodded. "Early this morning before any of us were awake a telegram arrived from Polly begging mother to come to New York at once. Polly said she wasn't ill and there was nothing for us to worry over, but just the same Sylvia and I have been worried nearly to death all day. For mother got off within a few hours. Then late this evening Billy Webster appears in Woodford after his visit in New York. And though he tells me that he saw Polly and Esther and has confessed that he knows why Polly telegraphed for mother, he won't give me the least satisfaction about anything. Can you make any suggestion, Betty dear? What difficulty do you suppose Polly has gotten into this time? For certainly it is Polly and not Esther; Esther would never be absurd."
Mollie lowered her voice as several of their friends were approaching.
"Please don't speak of this, Betty. Mother left word that we were not to mention it outside the family until she learned exactly what was the matter. But of course she said that I might tell you."
Before Betty could reply John Everett had invited her to dance.