Ilga's box of sweets stopped on its polite way to the new-comer. "Huh!" sneered the owner of it, "if you think you are going to order me round, you're mistaken! I guess I shan't associate with every tramp that comes along--so there, Polly Dudley!" "Leonora isn't any more of a tramp than you are!" Polly burst out hotly. "No, she isn't--'than _you_ are!'" retorted Ilga, with sarcastic emphasis and a disagreeable laugh. Polly's eye blazed. She clinched her little fists. "And _you_ are too contemptible to--talk with!" she cried scornfully, and whirled away. But Ilga's instant rejoinder seemed to retard her feet, for she was conscious of walking slowly, missing none of the words that bit into her sensitive heart. "Oh! I am, am I? Well, _you_ are a regular nobody! You put on airs just because Dr. Dudley adopted you; but he isn't anybody! He wouldn't stay at the hospital for that little bit of a salary if he was. He can't get a place anywhere else--he's a no--body!" Ilga knew her victim well enough to realize that any taunt flung at the adored father would rebound upon his daughter with double force, and she winked exultingly to her companions as Polly made no attempt at retort, but went straight to her desk and bent her white, drawn little face over her speller. It would have given her an added delight if she had known that the book was upside down and its print blurred by a mist of tears. At the close of a session Polly usually waited for David; but this noon she hurried on alone, and he overtook her only after a quick little run. "This is great, to go off and leave a fellow!" he grumbled pleasantly. "Oh, excuse me!" she replied. "I forgot." "Forgot!" he began laughingly, but stopped. Her gravity did not invite humor. He wondered what had gone wrong, but was wise enough to ask no questions. After an ineffectual attempt at talk, they fell back into silence, separating at the cottage entrance with sober good-byes. The kitchen door was unlocked, and Polly walked slowly through the house, longing yet dreading to meet her mother. Down the stairway came the sound of voices. She stopped to listen. "Oh, dear!--Miss Curtis!" she sighed, and turned towards the little library. Although since the recovery of Elsie's birthday ring the nurse had been unusually kind and friendly, Polly could not help remembering that she had once believed her to be the cause of its mysterious disappearance, and just now it seemed impossible to meet her with composure. So she curled up forlornly in her father's big chair, hastily grabbing a book as an excuse for being there. The story was one she had never read, and its interest was proved in that time and troubles were soon forgotten. Thus her mother found her, and thanks to the respite from Ilga's haunting words she was able to respond to the visitor's greeting with something of her usual happy humor.