h her design.

All evening she talked so little and her attention was so concentrated
upon the lesson which she appeared to be studying, that her school
companions left her entirely alone. Polly's passion for studying had
always been regarded as an eccentricity. But now since she had
announced on that afternoon that she had her own living to make there
was possibly some excuse for her industry. Nevertheless the girls felt
more convinced than ever that she was not in the least like any of the
rest of them and, although rather fascinating and unusual, not a person
whom one would care to know intimately.

The difference in her manner and expression that night attracted the
attention of one of the teachers--the girl's face was so tense and
white, her blue eyes showed such dark shadows beneath them. It was
owing to this teacher's advice that Polly was allowed to leave the
study hall an hour earlier than usual and go to her own room and to bed.

She was not feeling particularly well. Her head did ache and her
conscience troubled her the least little bit, notwithstanding she had
not the faintest intention of surrender. With hot cheeks and cold
hands she lay still for a long time until the noises of the other girls
retiring had quieted down and the big house was silent. Then Polly
suddenly sat up in bed. A moment later she had crawled out on the
floor and lighted a candle by her writing desk. The electric lights
had been turned off for the night. But even in the pitch darkness
Polly would still have composed her letter. For an idea had at last
come to her. And if only she could get just one person to accede to it
her way would be plain. The one person might be difficult. Polly was
perfectly aware of this, but then she had great faith in her own powers
of persuasion.

CHAPTER VI

ESTHER'S ROOM

Just above the small alcohol lamp the teakettle was beginning to sing.
On a table near-by were teacups and saucers, with one plate of
sandwiches covered over with a small napkin, and another of cookies.

Several times a tall girl glanced at the clock and then walked across
the room to take the kettle off the stove, only to place it back again
the next instant.

Then at last she seated herself by an open piano. There was very
little furniture in the room except the piano, a small cot and the
table. Yet it had an atmosphere of home and comfort, such as some
persons are able to give to a tent in a desert. And