CHAPTER XVI
POLA
For the next few days Mart and Lav found Sidney strangely quiet. Sidneyon her part wondered if they could not tell, simply by looking at her,that her uncomfortable heart carried a great secret. Then somethinghappened that put pirates and secrets completely out of her mind,something so amazing, so unexpected, as to turn her world on its head.Pola came!
In her zeal to get out of each day all the joy that it offered Sidneyhad forgotten Pola, or at least she had tucked her idol into a far-backcorner of her mind where it was fast gathering dust.
One morning Mart, racing over the sand of the beach, hailed her. "Sid!Sid! They want us to pose for them! That Craig woman and the others!"
Sid gasped, unbelieving. The girls had often wished they might pose forsome of the artists. Mart, having caught up with her, clutched her armand hauled her hurriedly forward toward where little groups of artistswere gathering on the beach in the shadow of one of the long wharves.
"But--but--" Sidney protested breathlessly. It would be fun to pose, ofcourse, but not dressed as she was at that moment! Vick, in the picturethat had been hung in Paris, had worn a black velvet dress which theartist had borrowed for her sitting; she could run home and don theprecious cherry crepe de chine that she had not worn since she had cometo Sunset Lane.
"Miss Craig said to get that--other--girl--" Mart was explaining asthey ran. "And they're waiting."
Miss Craig, a pretty, earnest-eyed woman who was studying in one of thesummer art classes, came forward to meet them. Her glance went overSidney's figure with enthusiastic approval.
"You found her! How nice. Miss Higgins will pose you--"
"Can't I go home and change my dress? I have an awfully pretty--"
But Miss Craig cut Sidney's appeal short.
"_Gracious_ no! Why, that would _spoil_ you! We want you exactly as youare this moment--both of you. You're--you're _precious_!"
Sidney resented her "precious." She resented other remarks thatcame to their ears as Miss Higgins, who had charge of the littlegroup, posed them against an old, overturned dory. "A perfecttype--native--girls----freedom----wild beauty----" She resented therotting dory. Vick had leaned against a crimson velvet chair. Why,her hair had not been combed since the morning before, her skirtwas in tatters where she had torn it climbing into Top Notch; shewas horribly conscious of her long legs, bare, brown, and bruised.
Sidney found that posing in the morning sun on a beach at Provincetownwas not the lark Vick had declared posing for the great Stuart Geldinghad been. But then Vick had flirted a little with Stuart Gelding andhad always had a cup of tea with him and his wife afterward; these artstudents appeared to have forgotten that their models were human withlegs that ached from holding a position and arms that trembled withvery eagerness to move. It was not one bit of fun.
Then, after an interminable time, Miss Craig called out cheerily;"There, that's enough for this morning," and came down to the dory,opening a little crocheted bag. From it she took two crisp one dollarbills. "Take this, girls, and divide it. And we are ever sograteful--you were splendid types. We'll have you again some day."
Sidney's hand had barely closed over her dollar bill when she spied awoman and a girl slowly walking along the wharf, watching with interestthe artists who were still at work. The girl looked startlinglyfamiliar to Sidney. She gave a little gasp and ran forward.
"_Pola!_" she called loudly.
The girl turned in astonishment at the sound of her name, stared for amoment, then quickly advanced laughing.
"Why, you're the Romley girl, aren't you? Of _all_ the things! What areyou doing here?"
"I'm visiting my aunt," explained Sidney, suddenly conscious of herappearance and in consequence painfully ill-at-ease.
"Oh, and do they hire you to pose? What fun! I suppose that's a sort ofcostume they make you wear, isn't it?"
"Y--yes," Sidney faltered, miserably. Pola's manner was prettilycondescending and she made no move to join Sidney on the beach.
"I'm a wreck myself," Pola went on, airily surveying her trim andelegant person. "Mother and I are motoring. And I made her bring medown here to see my cousin. He's an artist and lives here summers.He'll just despise seeing us because he comes here to get rid ofeverything home. And the car's broken down and goodness knows how longwe'll have to stay."
"Pola!" Her mother called sharply.
Pola waved her hand toward her mother. "Yes, mamma!" Then, to Sidney,"Isn't it simply rare our meeting like this? It shows how small theworld is. I must run now! By-by!" She gave the slightest flip of herhand in sign of leave-taking and, turning, ran lightly up the wharftoward her mother.
Sidney's eyes followed her, devouring her dainty clothes, thetight-fitting motoring hat, the buckled pumps. Pola--the Pola she hadcarried enshrined in her heart! That heart hurt now, to the core. Shehad dreamed of a meeting sometime, somewhere, had planned just what itwould be like and what she'd say and what Pola would say. And now Polahad turned a shoulder upon it.
Mart's laugh behind her roused her.
"Who's Guinevere, anyway? Her ma called her just in time--we might ahurt the doll-baby!"
Sidney turned on Mart fiercely. "She's a friend of mine," she cried, ina voice she made rough to keep the tears from it. "And she's _not_ adoll-baby."
"All right--go and play with her then--she's crazy about you, I guess."And with that Mart swung on her heel and stalked away, her head in theair.
Poor Sidney hurried back to Sunset Lane to hide her humiliation and herdismay. For some reason she could not understand she had offended Mart.And Pola had snubbed her. It had indeed been a cruel fate that hadbrought Pola out on the wharf at that precise moment!
She spent a lonely afternoon in Top Notch, too miserable to even pourout her heart to "Dorothea." Then she helped Aunt Achsa prepare supperand after supper, which was lonely, too, for neither Lavender nor Mr.Dugald were there, she insisted upon clearing up the dishes while AuntAchsa went down to Tillie Higgins'.
Swishing her hands in the soapy water Sidney pondered sadly the thingsshe had longed to learn of Pola. Her name--why she hadn't even foundout her name! What had her teacher said of that theme she had writtenon her visit to the Romley house? Where did Pola live? Of course shemight see her again--Pola had said that they'd be in Provincetown for afew days, but she did not _want_ to see her; she did not want Pola tosee Sunset Lane and the little gray cottage and Aunt Achsa andLavender. Pola would laugh at them and she would hate her!
At that moment footsteps crunched the gravel of the path and a shadowfell across the kitchen door. Sidney turned from the table. There stoodMr. Dugald and with him--Pola.
"I've brought my cousin, Sidney. She blew out to the Cape with thatill-wind we felt this morning. If you know what we can do with her I'llbe your slave for life."
Playfully pushing Dugald Allan aside Pola walked into the kitchen.
"Isn't he horrid? You wouldn't dream that he's really crazy about me,would you? I told him how we'd met, even before this morning. He'dwritten home that Miss Green's cousin was here but I never dreamed itwas you. I'm so sorry I didn't have a chance to introduce you to motherthis morning. But mother wants me to take you back to the hotel. Youcan have a room right next to mine and we'll have scads of fun--You'llcome, won't you?" For Sidney's face was unyielding.
Like one cornered, Sidney stood straight against the table, her hands,red from the hot dish water, clasped tightly behind her back. Thoughshe knew that Pola was trying to make amends for her rudeness of themorning, something within her heart turned hard. The dusty idol wascrumbling to bits of clay.
"She's only inviting me because Mr. Dugald has told her to," shereasoned inwardly. And aloud she answered in a steady voice:
"I'm sorry, but I simply can't leave Aunt Achsa. You must come here andwe'll find lots of jolly things to do--"
"Here?" laughed Pola, glancing around the old kitchen.
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p; "Why not here?" roared Mr. Dugald. "As long as you've broken into ourSecret Garden we'll introduce you to some things you've never donebefore in your life. Only Sid will have to find some suitable clothesfor you, and you'd better leave your complexion on the dressing table."
Pola accepted his banter good-naturedly. "I shall be deeply grateful,old dear, if you _will_ introduce me to any sensations I have notexperienced before. There, now, will that hold you for awhile?" Sheturned to Sidney. "We quarrel like this all the time, but it's fun andI always have the last word. I make him so mad he can't think ofanything withering enough to say and I seize that strategic moment tocease firing. You see, I practice on Dug. I _will_ come tomorrow if Imay. Now, Duggie dear, lead me out of this funny lane or else I'll_never_ find my way back to mamma. Goodby, Miss Romley."
Behind Pola's back Mr. Dugald cast such a despairing, apologetic andaltogether furious look toward Sidney as to make Sidney suddenly laugh.And with her laugh all her sense of dismay and humiliation vanished.She forgot her red hands and the big gingham apron and the dishesspread about her in her amusement over Pola's pathetic attempt to bevery grown-up and sophisticated. And _so_ ill-bred! How ashamed Mr.Dugald had been of her!
Then a thought struck Sidney with such force that she sat down in thenearest chair. Why, if Mr. Dugald was Pola's own cousin, belonged tothe grandeur that was Pola's, he would _never_ be attracted by poor,plain Trude. Her beautiful hopes were shattered! She felt distinctlyaggrieved.
However, there was Vick. Sidney hated to give Mr. Dugald to Vick, whoalways got everything, yet it seemed the only thing to do if any of thesisters were to have him. Almost sadly she went to her room, opened hersatchel and took from it a small framed photograph of Victoria, aphotograph which, while it did not flatter Victoria, paid full justiceto her enticing beauty. Considering it, Sidney reflected on how luckyit was that at the last moment she had put the pictures of her sistersinto her baggage. Then she carried it to the kitchen and stood it onthe narrow mantel next to the clock where Mr. Dugald's eyes must surelyfind it. Unlike the snapshot of Trude the picture remained thereundisturbed.