‘I feel much worse, Mrs. Winship,’ she said, going into the sitting-room tent and waking Aunt Truth from a peaceful snooze. ‘If you can spare Pancho over night, I really think I must trouble you to send Anne and me home at once. I feel as if I wanted to go to bed in a dark room, and I shall only be a bother if I stay.’ ‘Why, my child, I’m sorry to have you go off with your visit unfinished. You know we don’t mind any amount of trouble, if we can make you comfortable.’ ‘You are very kind, but indeed I’d rather go.’ ‘I hardly dare let you start in the hot sun—without consulting the doctor, and everybody is away except Polly; they will feel badly not to say good-bye.’ ‘It is nearly three o’clock now, so the worst of the sun is over, and we shall be at the ranch by eight this evening. I feel too ill to say good-bye, any way, and we shall meet Bell and Margery somewhere on the road, for they were going to the milk ranch.’ [Picture: Packing] ‘Very well, my dear, if you’ve made up your mind I must yield,’ replied Mrs. Winship, getting up and smoothing her hair. ‘I don’t dare wake Elsie, she has had such an exciting day; but I’ll call Polly to help you pack, and then tell Pancho to find Anne and harness the team. While he is doing that, I’ll get you a little lunch to take with you and write a note to your mother. Perhaps you can come again before we break camp, but I’m sorry to send you home in such a sad plight.’ CHAPTER VIII POLLY’S BIRTHDAY: SECOND HALF IN WHICH SHE WISHES SHE HAD NEVER BEEN BORN. ‘From Hebrew wit the maxim sprung, Though feet should slip, ne’er let the tongue.’ POLLY came at once to the tent, where she found Laura getting her belongings together. ‘Why, Laura, it seems too bad you should go off so suddenly. What can I do to help you?’ The very spirit of evil entered Laura’s heart as she looked at Polly, so fresh and pretty and radiant, with her dimples dancing in and out, her hair ruffled with the effort of literary composition, and the glow of the day’s happiness still shining in her eyes. She felt as if Polly was ‘glad inside’ that she was poisoned; she felt sure she was internally jumping for joy at her departure; and, above all, she felt that Polly was entirely too conceited over the attention she had received that day, and needed to be ‘taken down a peg or two.’ ‘Red-haired, stuck-up, saucy thing,’ she thought, ‘how I should like to give her a piece of my mind before I leave this place, if I only dared!’ ‘I don’t need any help, thank you,’ she said aloud, in her iciest manner. ‘But it will only make your head ache to bend over and tug away at that valise, and I’ll be only too glad to do it.’ ‘I’ve no doubt of that,’ responded Laura, meaningly. ‘It is useless for you to make any show of regret over my going, for I know perfectly well that you are glad to get me out of the way.’