the city hall clock struck twelve, and polly dudley was still awake. the circumstances of the afternoon were passing before her. what david had said and what she had said, when he had laughed and when he had been silent, what they had seen on the way—it was all there in the procession that had no end. just now they were at the corner of webster street, where it joined clayton avenue. an italian boy with a push-cart was on the cross-walk, and polly and david waited to let him pass. a young man was coming towards them, a handsome young man in a shining car. now he was lifting his hat with his usual splendid smile, the smile that showed his gleaming, perfect teeth—

“oh!” polly breathed suddenly, “that was it! now i know! how could he be so silly! but it was! it is always some such little thing.”

at last she had discovered the direct cause of her lover’s changed mood. she remembered how brilliantly russell ely had smiled to her as he passed, and then until this moment she had forgotten him altogether. didn’t david want her even to bow to any one! but russell was a member of the college club! this explained everything.[9] it seemed hours before sleep came to halt the wearying thoughts.

polly was called from breakfast to greet david.

“we are not going to start as early as i expected,” he said, “not before nine. so i thought i would—just run up and say good-morning.” he smiled in almost his own cordial way.

the girl beamed up at him. she never harbored a pique, and now she began to chat as gayly as usual, in seeming forgetfulness of yesterday.

david, however, could not so lightly throw off the past. recollections lingered to hamper his actions and retard his tongue. but he let his eyes rest upon polly in gratification, laughing at her little pleasantries, and finally enjoying the present quite as if nothing in past or future could have any evil power for him. the parting was vastly different from that of the day before.

after he had gone polly ran upstairs humming a song. how glad she was that he had come!

the days seemed long without david. since they returned from college they had been much together, and now she missed him. the randolphs were away, and patricia and the rest could not quite fill the gap. the ladies of june holiday home always welcomed her with delight, and she called there occasionally; but their increased freedom of action carried them out-of-doors more than formerly, and she was apt not to find those at home whom she most wished to see. then, too,[10] the place had never seemed just the same since her beloved “nita” had left it forever.

she was returning, one afternoon, from a shopping excursion with leonora, when she was overtaken by russell ely. he drove up to the curb, and threw open the door of his car.

“will you ride up the hill?” he asked.

in a moment she was whirling along the shady avenue, arranging her bundles comfortably in her lap and listening to her companion’s bright talk.

“this is a pleasant lift for me,” she said. “i have been round in the shops ever since luncheon, and i am tired.”

“i shouldn’t have dared to ask you if that guardsman of yours were in town; but since the length of new england is between us i thought i might venture.”

polly laughed, and they talked on and on, until she noticed that they had not turned at the corner nearest home.

“you don’t mind going a little farther, do you?” he asked. “i seldom get a glimpse of you nowadays. what do you say to running up to castleboro inn for some toast and tea? the air is just right for a drive.”

but polly refused, although the invitation became urgent; so the young man reluctantly left her at the hospital entrance.

“what would david say?” raced through her[11] head and would not stop. “what would david say? what would david say?”

“he won’t know it!” polly retorted. “and it’s all right if he should.”

“what would david say? what would david say?”

polly went indoors and made herself ready for dinner.

“what would david say? what would david say?” accompanied her upstairs and down, and even to the dining-room door. once at the table in the presence of her father and mother, the teasing voice vanished. yet it returned the minute she was alone, and kept up the vexing question until it was finally lost in sleep.

every morning came a letter from david, and polly was invariably at the door to take it from the carrier. sometimes it was little more than a note; but oftener it spread itself over page after page in familiar, affectionate talk.

two days after russell ely had brought her up the hill, an envelope with david’s well-known superscription was put into polly’s hand. at first it seemed no more than the envelope itself, so thin it was. then polly saw that a single sheet was inside.

“guess he was in a hurry,” she told herself, as she hastened up to her room.

she sat down by the broad window and noted the slight unevenness of the address. david’s[12] chirography was a continual wonder to polly, every line, every curve, according to rule. to-day, however, the “p” was a wee bit out of proportion, the “d” was slightly out of alignment, while the name showed a trifling tendency to run downhill.

“well!” she exclaimed under her breath, “what’s going to happen?” she dwelt upon it with a smile. then she took up her paper-cutter and ran it under the flap.

her fingers were growing eager, and with a happy flutter of heart she pulled out the sheet.

as she started to read, her face held a smile, but instantly a stare swept it away. her eyes seemed to pierce the paper. they blazed with something like anger.

“‘appeal’!” she muttered scornfully, “‘appeal,’ indeed!”

the letter fluttered to the floor, her hands went up to her face, and she began to cry.

“oh, david! david!” she whispered, “how could you! it isn’t true! you know it isn’t true!”

she sat there a long time. then she picked up the sheet and read it again. her face grew hard and resentful.

“‘smile of understanding’! he won’t want me to smile at all pretty soon.” she sighed. “by next week he’ll be ‘appealing’ to me. he’ll be sure to come back, if i keep still. he always does. i know david! i’ve half a mind not to answer[13] him when he does ‘appeal.’ let him have a taste of his own porridge.”

she went over the letter again, slowly, sentence by sentence.

miss polly: since it is plainly evident that you desire your freedom from the slender bonds that bind us together, i wish to assure you that from this moment they are broken, and you are free as if they had never been. to continue the relations which have existed between us for the few years past would only pile up wretchedness for us both, and it is best to annul them. many times i have foreseen this. on the day we took that walk to chimney hill and i noted the smile of understanding which passed between you and that darned ely, i knew that sooner or later this would come. yesterday when i heard of your intimacy with the same unbearable puppy, your rides alone with him as soon as i was out of the way, convinced me that the time for the break has arrived. you need not attempt any explanation or appeal. my mind is made up forever. nothing can change my decision.

very truly yours

david gresham collins

“‘slender bonds’!” she muttered. “i didn’t know that i was bound at all, though i act as if i were. of course, i’m ‘free,’ and i will be free, too, david collins! as if you must tell me so! i wish i’d gone over to the inn with russell—i will next time he asks me. i won’t be under david’s thumb any longer! to think of his making such a fuss because i rode up with russell—just rode up the hill with him!

[14] “but how did he hear of my being with him?” polly questioned. “we didn’t meet anybody—yes, doris gaylord was out on the veranda. she may have seen me. i didn’t think so. anything she knew, marietta’d know—that is sure. and by this time marietta may be up there herself.”

she pondered the matter for some minutes, while alternately her face flushed and paled.

“could marietta—?” she shut her lips with a contemptuous little breath. “let her!” she scorned. “i won’t follow david collins’s lead.”