CHAPTER IX. LESSONS

ser,whowasdoinghisbesttospoilherhair,anddistortherheadwithamassofcurls,braids,frizzles,andpuffsforthoughIdiscreetlyrefrainfromanyparticulardescription,still,judgingfromthepresentfashions,Ithinkonemayventuretopredictthatsixyearshencetheywouldbesomethingfrightful. “Howkindofyou,PollyIwasjustwishingyouwereheretoarrangemyflowers.Theselovelydaphneswillgiveodortomycamellias,andyouwereadeartobringthem.There'smydresshowdoyoulikeit?”saidFanny,hardlydaringtolifthereyesfromundertheyellowtoweronherhead. “It'sregularlysplendidbuthowdoyouevergetintoit?”answeredPolly,surveyingwithgirlishinterestthecloudofpinkandwhitelacethatlayuponthebed. “It'sfearfullyandwonderfullymade,butdistractinglybecoming,asyoushallsee.TrixthinksI'mgoingtowearblue,soshehasgotagreenone,andtoldBelleitwouldspoiltheeffectofmine,aswearemuchtogether,ofcourse.Wasn'tthatsweetofher?Bellecameandtoldmein,time,andIjustgotpink,somyamiablesister,thatistobe,won'tsucceedinherprettylittleplot.” “IguessshehasbeenreadingthelifeofJosephine.Youknowshemadeaprettylady,ofwhomshewasjealous,sitbesideheronagreensofa,whichsetoffherownwhitedressandspoilttheblueoneofherguest,”answeredPolly,busywiththeflowers. “Trixneverreadsanythingyouaretheonetopickupcleverlittlestories.I'llrememberandusethisone.AmIdone?Yes,thatischarming,isn'tit,Polly?”andFanrosetoinspectthesuccessofMonsieur'slonglabor. “YouknowIdon'tappreciateastylishcoiffureasIought,soIlikeyourhairintheoldwaybest.Butthisis'thething,'Isuppose,andnotawordmustbesaid.” “Ofcourseitis.Why,child,IhavefrizzedandburntmyhairsothatIlooklikeanoldmaniacwithitinitsnaturalstate,andhavetorepairdamagesaswellasIcan.Nowputtheflowersjusthere,”andFannylaidapinkcamelliainanestoffuzz,andstuckasprayofdaphnestraightupatthebackofherhead. “O,Fan,don't,itlookshorridlyso!”criedPolly,longingtoaddalittlebeautytoherfriend'ssallowfacebyagracefuladjustmentoftheflowers. “Can'thelpit,that'stheway,andsoitmustbe,”answeredFan,plantinganothersprighalf-wayupthetower. PollygroanedandofferednomoresuggestionsastheworkwentonbutwhenFanwasfinishedfromtoptotoe,sheadmiredallshehonestlycould,andtriedtokeepherthoughtstoherself.Butherfrankfacebetrayedher,forFannyturnedonhersuddenly,saying,“Youmayaswellfreeyourmind,Polly,forIseebyyoureyesthatsomethingdon'tsuit.” “Iwasonlythinkingofwhatgrandmaoncesaid,thatmodestyhadgoneoutoffashion,”answeredPolly,glancingatthewaistofherfriend'sdress,whichconsistedofabelt,abitoflace,andapairofshoulderstraps. Fannylaughedgood-naturedly,saying,assheclaspedhernecklace,“IfIhadsuchshouldersasyours,Ishouldn'tcarewhatthefashionwas.Nowdon'tpreach,butputmycloakonnicely,andcomealong,forI'mtomeetTomandTrix,andpromisedtobethereearly.” PollywastobeleftathomeafterdepositingFanatBelle's. “IfeelasifIwasgoingmyself,”shesaid,astheyrolledalong. “Iwishyouwere,andyouwouldbe,Polly,ifyouweren'tsucharesolutething.I'veteased,andbegged,andofferedanythingIhaveifyou'llonlybreakyourabsurdvow,andcomeandenjoyyourself.” “ThankyoubutIwon't,sodon'ttroubleyourkindheartaboutmeI'mallright,”saidPolly,stoutly. Butwhentheydrewupbeforethelightedhouse,andshefoundherselfinthemidstofthepleasantstiroffestivity,thecomingandgoingofcarriages,theglimpsesofbrightcolors,forms,andfaces,theburstsofmusic,andageneralatmosphereofgayety,Pollyfeltthatshewasn'tallright,andasshedroveawayforadulleveninginherlonelylittleroom,shejustcriedasheartilyasanychilddeniedastickofcandy. “It'sdreadfulwickedofme,butIcan'thelpit,”shesobbedtoherself,inthecornerofthecarriage.“Thatmusicsetsmeallinatwitter,andIshouldhavelookedniceinFan'sbluetarlatan,andIknowIcouldbehaveaswellasanyone,andhavelotsofpartners,thoughI'mnotinthatset.Oh,justonegoodgallopwithMr.SydneyorTom!No,Tomwouldn'taskmethere,andIwouldn'tacceptifhedid.Oh,me!oh,me!IwishIwasasoldandhomely,andgoodandhappy,asMissMills!” SoPollymadehermoan,andbythetimeshegothome,wasjustinthemoodtogotobedandcryherselftosleep,asgirlshaveawayofdoingwhentheirsmallafflictionbecomesunbearable. ButPollydidn'tgetachancetobemiserableverylong,forasshewentupstairsfeelinglikethemostinjuredgirlintheworld,shecaughtaglimpseofMissMills,sewingawaywithsuchabrightfacethatshecouldn'tresiststoppingforawordortwo. “Sitdown,mydear,I'mgladtoseeyou,butexcusemeifIgoonwithmywork,asI'minadrivinghurrytogetthesethingsdoneto-night,”saidthebrisklittlelady,withasmileandanod,asshetookanewneedlefulofthread,andranupaseamasifforawager. “Letmehelpyou,thenI'mlazyandcross,anditwilldomegood,”saidPolly,sittingdownwiththeresignedfeeling.“Well,ifIcan'tbehappy,Icanbeuseful,perhaps.” “Thankyou,mydearyes,youcanjusthemtheskirtwhileIputinthesleeves,andthatwillbeagreatlift.” Pollyputonherthimbleinsilence,butasMissMillsspreadthewhiteflannelov