"Polly dearest! Do you mean that after all I have done to get Dad here and win your father's consent to your going, that you refuse to leave home--just because I colored my words a bit too vividly?"
"You can color your words as rashly and with as vivid colors as you choose, Nolla, but I say that when you begin to infer that the coloring is of _my_ choosing and that I am in hearty sympathy with the way you win out in matters, then I will balk and if necessary, deny it in the future. I _hate_ color when it is daubed on falsely!"
Eleanor stood self-conscious of her mistakes, and Polly sent her one sorry look and then walked into her room. Eleanor did not dare follow as she was too awed by her friend's honest speech. And she admired Polly all the more for daring to tell her the unvarnished truth about her proclivity to prevaricate.
"It always was my weak spot," grumbled Eleanor to herself, as she walked slowly to the kitchen to see if Sary was there to keep her company. But the big cool kitchen was empty, so the girl sat down in the wooden chair and thought.
[Illustration: "WHO ASKED YOU TO HELP ME OUT?" DEMANDED POLLY.
"If I had had a different training maybe I wouldn't be so ready to lie," murmured Eleanor. Then, suddenly sneering at herself she added: "Poor fish! Can't even accept what you know is a fact without trying to blame it on some one else. You've scorned Bob for being such a fool, but here you are, ten times worse, because you have wits enough yet you pervert the use of them. Eleanor Maynard, I just feel as if I wanted to give you the biggest hiding you ever heard of!"
As she knew of no way in which to inflict this punishment upon herself, she cried instead. From a prolonged sniffle that caused her to wipe her eyes on her dimity sleeves, she began to weep freely. And finally, heart-broken sobs shook her slender frame. By this time her eyes and nose were rivers of salt-water and the poor girl had no handkerchief. Just when she felt compelled to turn up her skirt to use the ruffle of her white petticoat, Anne came in.
"Is that all, darling! Here use mine--It's clean. But don't cry over a trifle like that. It is sure to be somewhere about the place."
Before Anne could dry the flooded eyes and hold the bit of white linen at Eleanor's nose, the girl broke into a merry laugh--so close were tears and laughter in Eleanor's makeup.