All the same I don't see what your wretched club has to do with
helping us solve our problem about mother, and that is all I care about
at present."
"Has to do,--why everything," Betty repeated slowly. But before she was
able to finish her sentence there was a sudden loud ringing of the front
door bell and the three girls jumped to their feet. In another moment
Polly had disappeared into the hall, returning with her expression
changed again to its original look of gloom.
"It's that granite man, mother, Mr. Wharton, with his entire family, son
and daughter. I wonder why they can't leave you alone after business
hours? I had to ask them in the parlor, since we can't entertain any
one in the kitchen except 'The Princess,' but we simply can't join you
until we hear what she has to say."
Polly sighed as her mother rose without replying and left the room, and
Betty did he her best to hide her smiles, for everybody in Woodford
believed that Mrs. O'Neill's employer had more than a friendly interest
in her, and though Polly constantly railed at their poverty and Mr.
Wharton was the richest man in the village, the very sound of his name
used often to irritate her.
The candles had at last burned down to their sockets and softly Betty
blew out the last flickering flames.
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