CHAPTER VII
A NEW INTEREST
IT is a far journey from the New Hampshire hills to the plains of theWest.
Nevertheless a girl whom we once knew at Sunrise Hill is walking alonethis afternoon on the rim of a desert and facing the western sun. It isscarcely fair to call her a girl, unless one has the theory that so longas a woman does not marry she retains her girlhood. Yet glancing at heras she strolled slowly along, no one could have guessed her to be morethan twenty, though perhaps she was a little nearer the next decade.
Exquisitely dressed in a long, dark green broadcloth coat with a furcollar and small hat, she was a little past medium height and unusuallyslender. Her hair was so black that it had an almost somber look, andyet her eyes were vividly blue. Just now, having wandered a good manymiles from the place where she was staying, she looked extremely tiredand depressed. In no possible way did she appear to fit into her presentsurroundings, for without a doubt she was a woman of wealth anddistinction. It was self-evident in the clothes she wore, but more so inthe unconsciously proud carriage of her head and in the lines of herface, which was not beautiful and yet seemed to have some curious charmmore appealing than mere beauty.
She stopped now for a moment to gaze with an appreciation that wasalmost awe at the beauty of the sinking sun. There was a glory of colorin the sky that was almost fantastic; piles of white clouds seemed tohave been flung up against the horizon like mammoth soap bubbles, tintedwith every rainbow shade. With unconscious enthusiasm, the woman claspedher hands together.
"Why," she exclaimed aloud, "I was wondering what this scene reminded meof. It is dear old Sunrise Hill! What would I not give to be there inthe old cabin tonight with Betty and Mollie and the others! But theymust not know what has become of me until things are all right again.Both Betty and Mollie are too happy with their babies and husbands toworry over the old maids in the family. Sometimes, though, I feel that Ishould like to send for Sylvia." Then the wanderer turned and staredaround her.
In every direction there were long waving reaches of sand with anoccasional clumping of rocks, while growing near them were strangevarieties of the cactus plant. Some of them had great leaves likeelephants' ears, some were small and thick with queer, stiff hairs andexcrescences, and among them, in spite of the lateness of the season,were occasional pink and crimson flowers with waxen petals.
Behind the wayfarer there was a trail which she must have followed fromsome nearby village, yet it was growing less and less distinct ahead,and certainly the hour was far too late for a stranger to be travelingalone so near a portion of the great Colorado desert.
Nevertheless the young woman at this moment turned and left her path.Walking deliberately for a few yards she seated herself on a giantrock, and leaning forward, rested her chin in her beautifully glovedhands.
"So like you, Polly O'Neill, even in your old age to have gottenyourself entirely used up on the first walk you were allowed to takealone!" she began aloud, giving a half despairing, half amused shrug ofher thin shoulders. "I am not in the least sure that I know the way backto my hotel if it grows dark before I arrive there, and assuredly I amtoo weary to start for the present. And hungry! Heaven only knows when Iwas ever so ravenous! Now if I had only been a Camp Fire girl in theWest instead of the East, doubtless I could at once discover all sortsof delectable bread fruit and berries growing nearby. But I don't feel Iwant to run any further risks at present."
So for the next half hour in almost perfect quiet Polly O'Neill remainedseated. It would have been impossible for her to have done otherwise,for suddenly a curious attack of exhaustion had swept over her. It wasnot unusual of late, for indeed Miss O'Neill and her maid hadestablished themselves in a small hotel near Colorado Springs in orderthat the well-known actress might recover from an attack of nervousexhaustion which she had suffered during her successful tour in theWestern states. So Polly was quite accustomed to finding herself all atonce too weary either to move or speak. But quite like the Polly of oldshe had just deliberately walked five miles without reflecting on herlack of strength or the fact that she must return by as long a road asshe had come.
No, in spite of the fact that Polly O'Neill had in the last ten yearsmade a great name for herself as one of the leading actresses in theUnited States, she was as thoughtless and impetuous as she had been as agirl.
Finally, however, with what seemed to require a good deal of effort shegot up and moved, this time toward the east, but all the elasticity hadgone from her. The sand was uncomfortably heavy, so that she dragged onefoot after the other and her slender body seemed to wave like a stalk inthe wind. But the worst of her difficulty was that her breath came inshort, painful gasps. Unconsciously the effort which the business ofwalking required made Polly pay less strict attention to the path whichshe should have followed. But by and by, realizing that her way was lessplain and that it was now quite dusk, she paused for a moment, put herhand to her side and then again seemed to be considering her situation.Whatever her decision, she must have accepted it philosophically, forthis time, more deliberately, she sought another resting place.Fortunately not far away was a better shelter of rocks, half a dozen ofthem forming a kind of semicircular cave. Deliberately Polly crepttoward their shelter and there removed her hat and tied her hair up in along automobile veil. Then she lay down in the sand with the stones as ashield behind her and before her a wonderful view of the night as itstole softly over the desert.
Polly was not afraid and not even seriously annoyed. Life to her was buta series of adventures, some of them good and others less cheerful. Shewas not at all sure that she was not going to enjoy this one and shecould not believe that it would do her any especial harm. She wassleeping outdoors for the benefit of her health in a small porchattached to her hotel bedroom. Perhaps the sand was less comfortable andclean than her bed, but then she had never before imagined so much skyand prairie. Moreover, there was no one to worry over her failure toappear except Marie, her maid. It was just possible that Marie mightarouse the hotel and a searching party be sent to find her. In that casePolly knew that she would be glad to return to civilization. However,she did not intend to worry if no one came. Her hunger and thirst mustbe forgotten until morning.
Somehow, when the stars came out, in spite of the beauty of the nightPolly found she could not manage to keep her eyes open. She was notexactly sleepy, only tired. For never in years had she had such anopportunity to think things over. How crowded her life had been, howfull of hard work, of failure and success, yes, and loneliness! She waswilling to confess it tonight to herself. How she would have liked tohave had one of her old Camp Fire friends here in Colorado with her! Yetthey were all too busy and she had not wished any one of her family toknow how ill she had been. How much trouble she had always given all thepeople who cared for her ever since she could remember! Polly'sconscience pricked her sharply. Why had she not married and settled downas her sister Mollie had suggested at least a hundred times? Because shewould not give up her acting? Well, she need not have done this had shemarried Richard Hunt. But too many years had passed since theirengagement had been broken for her to recall him. She had not even seenMr. Hunt in the past five years, although they had occasionally acted inthe same cities and at the same time.
Finally, however, when the famous Miss O'Neill actually fell asleep shewas smiling faintly. For a vision had suddenly come to her of howshocked her sister Mollie and her brother-in-law, Mr. William Webster,would be if they knew that she was sleeping alone on the edge of adesert. But she was surely too near the village to be in any danger fromwild animals and no one would undertake such a walk as hers had been atthis hour.
Nevertheless, wisdom should have prompted an old Camp Fire girl to havefound twigs enough to have started even a miniature camp fire. But theedge of a desert is scarcely the place where wood abounds and the factis, though she had thought of it, Polly had been too tired to make thenecessary effort. For goodness only knows how much farther she need havewandered bef
ore coming to an oasis of shrubbery or trees.
When at last Miss O'Neill opened her eyes actually it was broad daylightand standing before her was a figure that almost fitted into her dream.For the girl was just about the age of the group of friends who had oncelived together in a log house in the woods, and all night she had beendreaming of Sunrise Cabin.
Nevertheless her visitor bore no other resemblance to them, so that thedistinguished lady rubbed her eyes, wondering if she were yet awake andhow the girl could have come so close up to her without her hearing.
A glance explained this, for the intruder was barefooted and her legsand feet were so brown and hard they appeared totally unfamiliar withshoes and stockings.
She was staring so hard at Polly that she seemed scarcely conscious ofanything except her own surprise.
With an effort Miss O'Neill sat upright. She did not feel tired now inthe least, but gloriously rested and strengthened from her wonderfulnight out of doors in the clear, pure air. But of course she mustexplain her situation to the little girl before her, although she wouldhave preferred her discoverer to have explained herself.
In spite of being about fourteen years old, this child had on only athin yellow calico frock, and it was late October. Her hair wasperfectly straight and Polly might have thought her an Indian exceptthat it was light brown in color, although a good deal stained by windand sun. However, the girl's eyes were a kind of greenish gray in shadeand her features were delicately modeled. But she had a peculiar andnot an agreeable expression.
"I wandered away from my hotel last evening and was not able to return,so I slept here all night. How did you happen to find me?" Polly began,feeling that some one must start a conversation in order to persuade hercompanion to cease her almost frightened staring. Of course Pollyappreciated that she herself was not looking her best, but there was noreason why she should excite so much curiosity.
Notwithstanding she received no answer. With a slight gesture ofannoyance Miss O'Neill stood up. After all, she did not feel asenergetic as she had thought and it was undoubtedly a long walk back toher hotel.
"Do you live anywhere near here? I am both hungry and thirsty. If youcould find some one to help me I should be most grateful," Polly said aspolitely as if she had been speaking to a friend. For if the girl wasafraid of her she wished her to forget her timidity.
But instead of replying the strange child stared harder than ever forhalf a minute, and then before Polly could speak again or touch her shewas off, running across the sand like a deer, without a backward glance.
Miss O'Neill watched her for some time until she vanished into whatappeared at this distance to be a clump of trees. Then she deliberatelyset out to follow her. The child must have come from some place nearerthan the village where she was staying. In almost any kind of settlementshe would be able to find a horse to take her back to her hotel.