Ilga's face grew black and ominous. Suddenly, with a scornful "I guess I won't play any more!" she dropped the hands she held, and, with head high, walked mincingly over to the window, and stood with her back to the others. "What's the matter?" broke from several mouths and showed in every face--every face but Polly's. Polly knew, or thought she knew. "We'll keep right on," she said in a soft, tense voice; and the play proceeded, yet not as before. Wondering glances were continually cast towards the window, where the yellow-clad figure stood dark against the light. The Senator's daughter received more attention than the ring. Meantime Ilga grew tired of waiting for the game to end, and, with a furtive look in the direction of the players, she sauntered off towards the hallway. At once Polly excused herself, and followed. Ilga turned quickly. "I'm going home," she said. "Oh, please don't!" cried Polly, adding faintly, "Are you ill?" "No; but I guess I'd better go. There's such a rabble here." "Why, Ilga!" gasped Polly. "Well, 'tis!" she retorted. "If mamma'd known it, she wouldn't have let me come; she's very particular who I play with." "They're just as nice as they can be," protested Polly in a soft, grieved voice. "Perhaps they seem so to you. I s'pose that's the kind they have at hospitals. The little Pole over there, he squeezed my fingers so they 'most ache yet, and that tall Irish kid with the red hair is the worst of the bunch!" "Oh, Ilga, he's a splendid boy, and so brave! I'm sure Otto didn't mean to hurt you; he is kind as can be." "It's all right, if you want them; but I guess I'll go home. I thought there'd be something besides just games." She turned towards the staircase, yet lingered. "I'm sorry you don't like it," Polly replied simply. "I'll play anything you wish." "No, I'm going." She tossed her head, and took a step upward. Polly was in terror lest somebody should overhear, for Ilga's voice was sharp with excitement. "I'll stay and play with the school boys and girls," the dissatisfied guest yielded. "But I can't separate them," Polly protested in dismay. "Then I'll go home," Ilga decided, and went slowly up the stairs. Polly followed sadly, but presently returned, having given over to her mother the care of the Senator's daughter. Leonora ran to meet her. "What is the matter?" she whispered. "I know!" spoke up Cornelius. "She don't like the crowd. I had to hear what she said about me. Say, Polly, I'll get out, if that'll make her stay." "You shan't!" Polly's eyes flashed. Then they brimmed with tears. "I want you, Cornelius--I want you all! I wouldn't have you go for anything! Come, let's play--what shall we play? You choose, Cornelius!" The game was moving pleasantly along when the Barron coach stopped at the door. For a few minutes the interest of the players flagged; then, having seen Ilga whirled out of sight, a festive spirit fell upon all, and the play went on more merrily than before.