Polly in New York - Part 33
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Part 33

Mr. Fabian listened attentively and approved of Mrs. Ashby's advice to her daughter.

No one came to claim Billy, and the days pa.s.sed swiftly for the self-appointed mothers of the boy. He was so merry and good-natured a child, that Mrs. Stewart sighed when she thought of the Studio without him. Before November pa.s.sed, he could walk all alone and even tried to climb the stairs.

Martha was a jewel with him. She never seemed too tired to do things for him. She it was, who taught him his table manners and insisted upon his saying "Plee" and "Tant" for anything. He could say "Dadda" and "Biddy"-the latter meaning himself.

Polly and Eleanor spent every spare moment teaching him new accomplishments, so that before the middle of Thanksgiving month, the boy really was unusually precocious and well-behaved.

Mr. Dalken returned to New York the third week in November and immediately sent out cards to his friends for a dinner-party. It was very private, only the circle acquainted with Polly and Eleanor were to be his guests. But they had a good time, nevertheless, and Mr. Dalken appeared more cheerful than of yore.

"Now what do you suppose I called you together for?" said he, after the table had been cleared of the roast and everyone was ready to listen while waiting for salad.

"Dear me, I hope you are not going to spring a sensational surprise on us!" Eleanor said, her face expressing worry.

Everyone laughed, but Mr. Dalken said: "What would you call a sensation?"

"Oh, well! in case you were married while in Chicago! That would ruin my hopes," interpolated Polly, anxiously.

A general laugh greeted this, and Mr. Dalken retorted:

"I hadn't even dreamed of such a possibility, but now that you plainly show me how you have been hoping I would propose to you, I may as well take my medicine like a man!"

"Me-you-propose! What _are_ you talking of?" cried Polly, aghast.

Everyone laughed teasingly, but Eleanor explained quickly. "He misunderstood your reason for worrying, Polly. Just like a man-they think one is always thinking of marriage, even when there are great charities being perfected."

Mr. Dalken now showed his surprise, and asked what really was the cause of Polly's anxiety.

"Oh, you'll see some day. We can't tell you now!" laughed Eleanor.

"Then I may as well confess to you-all and tell you what my surprise is.

"I finished my business in Chicago much sooner than I had hoped for, and went on to Pebbly Pit to see how things were progressing. I had a delightful visit at the ranch, and am able to say that work has reached the point, now, where the mining machines will start working next week, unless snow stops everything."

"Oh, then you saw father and mother!" cried Polly, eagerly.

"Yes, and I have all sorts of good things for you from home. A jar of preserves, and a dozen or more of gla.s.ses filled with jelly and other delectable sweets that Sary insisted that I carry to you. I did my best to explain that it would be cheaper and safer if she sent them by express or parcel post-but no! She told me 'A bird in th' hand is wuth two er three in a bush.'"

Polly and Eleanor instantly visualized Sary as she made this remark, and they laughed merrily.

Mr. Dalken then repeated minutest details of the work on Rainbow Cliffs, and the gold mine on Grizzly Slide. As everything promised so well, the girls felt elated at their future prospects.

Mr. Ashby wanted to know if his friend had succeeded in buying any more stock for him, and Mr. Dalken replied: "You'll have to wait until Latimer issues another block. No one I know of will sell any of what they hold."

The evening pa.s.sed pleasantly with intimate matters to speak of, and at last Anne said: "We must be going, Mr. Dalken. The girls have one of their long cla.s.s days, to-morrow, you know."

"Yes, and Martha will want to go to bed," added Mrs. Stewart.

"Who's Martha? Got a servant at last?" asked Mr. Dalken.

"Why, no, Martha-" Mrs. Stewart began innocently, but the two girls wildly interrupted her. Polly shouted unusually loud for her, "Oh, I am so tired!"

Eleanor had managed to wink her eyes warningly at Mrs. Stewart, and that lady realized that she had almost "put her foot in it." Mr. Dalken noticed something was disturbing the two girls, but he never dreamed what it was.

The following evening, at art cla.s.s, Mr. Fabian had news for the two girls. "Mr. Ashby has invited Mr. Dalken to have his Thanksgiving Dinner with his family, and that will give you the opportunity you need, to get Billy settled in his new home."

"Oh, how can we part from him!" sighed Eleanor, wiping an eye, as she pictured the lonely rooms.

"Yes-" sighed Polly, mournfully. "That's the worst of having a dog or a baby that you become so fond of."

"But you will see Billy three nights a week, and you never could have kept him for yourselves, you know," said Mr. Fabian.

Thanksgiving Day Martha seemed all upset. The idea of moving the baby to a new home, and perhaps not being welcome, made her cry softly, now and then. The little family at the Studio, instead of being very grateful for all the blessings they had had during the past year, went about looking forlorn and miserable.

They went to the Latimers for dinner that noon, and left Martha with the baby. It had been planned that they would get back home by eight o'clock and accompany their baby-gift over to Mr. Dalken's apartment. Billy would be placed in bed where his new foster father would find him, and then would come the joy of it all.

The plans worked out as expected to a certain degree. Mr. Dalken went up to the Ashbys for dinner, and a little after eight o'clock, a mournful procession wended its way from the Studio door. Martha carried Billy carefully. Polly and Eleanor carried the tub, chair, and other articles of use for the baby. Anne carried the bundles of clothing, and Mrs.

Stewart carried the milk-warmer, the other food-equipment, and the extra blankets.

Mr. Dalken's chauffeur opened the door to admit the visitors, but when he saw the burdens the ladies carried, he was speechless. Eleanor tried to explain that they had a new boy for Mr. Dalken, but Henri seemed not to appreciate the fact.

Billy was gurgling and trying to get his active fists out of the quilted blanket, but Martha held him firmly until she had him in the bedroom where Mr. Dalken slept.

"We are going to leave him right in the middle of this big bed, Henri, so his new father will find him when he comes in to-night," explained Eleanor, arranging the baby's bedding on the large expanse of bed-spread.

Billy was arrayed for the night, and everyone kissed him tearfully, as if he was about to be placed in his coffin. Then Martha gave him a drink of warm milk and placed him in his blankets.

Hardly had they tucked him up, before the bell at the entrance rang imperatively. Henri glanced distractedly at the baby and then at the other visitors, before he turned to answer the call. It rang a second time before he opened the door.

"Let's turn down the light and hide behind the velour portieres,"

whispered Anne, anxiously.

The five guilty members of the surprise-party quickly hid themselves as best they could, but not so soon, but that they heard Henri returning.

He was talking, and other voices were replying.

"I donno why the missee's come in an' fetch a bebby. Dey say 'He a big surprise,' Mr. Dalken."

To the amazement of the hidden ones, Mr. Dalken's voice now replied: "Never mind, Henri. I'll be out with my visitors, in a moment. I only want to get a handkerchief from the dresser."

The five culprits saw him switch up the lights and they then heard Billy welcome the unusual privilege with a gurgle. Not a sound came from the man who must have heard the baby-voice and seen the occupant of his ma.s.sive four-poster.

Polly could stand it no longer. She had to peep out at what was going on. The first thing she saw, was Eleanor's head showing from the side of the other portiere. Both girls watched the scene with bated breath.

Mr. Dalken stood beside the bed, looking down at the little bundle that made a dent in the middle of his comfortable mattress. Billy was waving his fists invitingly, as if to say, "Come on and fight!"

As the two girls watched him, Mr. Dalken smiled and said: "So _you_ are Billy Martin, are you?"

The two eaves-droppers glanced at each other in consternation. "How and why did Mr. Dalken call _their_ baby Billy Martin?"

"Well, Billy, suppose we go out and see what your Daddy thinks of you.