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Polly in New York
“I knew the old Hebrew well, having often looked over his trays filled with every old thing conceivable. So I said upon entering: ‘Got any odd kind of necklace or chain, Moses? Something to go around a lady’s neck, you know?’ I had to demonstrate my words as I spoke.
“‘Ya, ya! Shure, I got a chain. I show him you?’
“It was a long antique-silver chain, the great flat links being beautifully filigreed. But it was not what my friend wanted, so I bought it for Nancy. Then the shop-keeper looked wistful.
“‘Ain’t I got it what you like? Tell me what for you want him?’
“My friend replied: ‘For my wife. She goes to balls and like pearls, or other stones, in a necklace.’
“‘Ah, ha! I got yust what you like. A pearl necklace vot come in las’ veek wid a lot of odder fine tings.’ Then the old man rooted around under the counter until he found the tray he wanted. It was coated with dust from the floor, but he blew this off and carelessly placed the heaped-up tray before us.
“Such a tangle of all kinds of jewelry I never did see! Finally I got the string of pearls free from the snarls of ordinary glass beads and other trash, and handed it over to my friend. He curled a lip in scorn at the soiled trinket.
“‘Avery, drive a bargain with him for this. I honestly think those pearls are quite good. Let me rub one up on my sleeve, while you draw the fellow’s attention from what I am doing,’ I whispered.
“While Avery tried to bargain, I cleaned up one of the gems and felt sure they were unusually good even for artificial pearls.
“We actually bought the string for twelve dollars, but my friend feared lest he had been taken in. So I smiled and said: ‘Leave them with me and I’ll see that they are polished up like new by to-morrow night. I’ll take them to an old jeweler down the street and have them washed and the gold links cleaned. Your wife won’t know but that they came from Tiffany’s.
“Avery laughed and left them with me. So I hurried down to Union Square and showed them to the old jeweler I knew, there.
“He puckered his brow at first, then ran for his magnifying glasses. After an unusually keen inspection he called to his associate. Both of them then examined the string most carefully, and the old man finally looked up.
“‘If I didn’t know you to be an honest man I should say: “Where did you steal them?” – but I will ask: “How came you by these?”
“I was astonished, as you may know, but I tried to appear wise, so I laughingly replied: ‘They are not mine, my dear, sir. I only wish they were! I just got them from a friend to have someone, who is responsible, clean them nicely. I must hand them back as soon as you have finished.’
“‘Mr. Fabian, I can’t undertake such a job. I have no bonded man to do such work and I dare not send them out. They may be substituted, you know.’
“Then I couldn’t help saying: ‘My good man! You don’t value them so highly as that, do you? Why, I carried them downtown in my pocket!’
“‘Ha, ha!’ he laughed, ‘I never saw a better matched string of perfect pearls in my life and I am nigh onto sixty. If I had to handle that necklace, I should instantly insure it with a broker for a hundred thousand dollars.’
“Fancy, my friends, how I felt! My knees gave way and I had to sit down. I loosened my collar which seemed suddenly to grow too tight, but I couldn’t say a word.”
Polly and Eleanor stood listening with eyes bulging and mouths half-open. Anne and her mother were also deeply interested.
Mr. Fabian smiled to himself before he continued his tale, “Well, I took the pearls and hailed a taxi. I was taken to Tiffany’s, and asked for the manager, at once. Of course they wanted to know why I wished to see him, and I said, courageously: ‘To turn over a valuable pearl necklace and insure it for a hundred thousand.’
“That brought the manager running. We went to a small private room and I placed the string of pearls before him. He took it carefully, examined it casually, then more minutely. He seemed perturbed and got up. ‘Don’t leave this room and do not allow anyone to come in and see it. I’ll be back in a moment with our expert.’
“I felt sure, then, that Avery had actually found a real bargain. But I never dreamed of getting anything out of it for myself. The manager returned with, not only the gem expert, but also with the president of the company. He closed the door and locked it.
“The gem expert used all sorts of tests on the pearls and then said in a trembling tone: ‘M’sieur, I see like I nevair saw in my life! A string of perfect match pearls, each one well worth a fortune. But I see more, M’sieu! I will bring my acid to clean the engraved clasp set with diamonds. Maybe we find interesting fack.’
“Everyone felt nervous during the intermission granted us, but we said not a word to each other. Then the Frenchman returned. He was so careful, almost reverent, I should say, in touching and cleaning the clasp, that I laughed to myself at the memory of Old Izaacs shelving the pearls with a heap of junk, on a tray that was shoved on the floor under a counter.
“After many minutes of impatient waiting on our side, and as long in a most delicate cleansing process of the pearls on the part of the expert, he said: ‘Ah! Now vee zee.’
“He adjusted his eyeglass and studied the lettering on the clasp. Then he jerked forward and peered breathlessly at it again. Suddenly he dropped the necklace upon the pad and leaned back in the chair. ‘Mon Dieu!’ was all he could gasp.
“The president then caught up the pearls and adjusted the glass and studied the clasp. He also gasped and turned pale. The manager took the string from his superior and eagerly read the lettering aloud, ‘To my queen from Bonaparte.’ And then followed the date and year in tiny figures.”
Mr. Fabian smiled as he saw the impression his story had made, and waited to be asked questions concerning the pearls.
“Oh, do finish the story!” cried Eleanor.
“Were they really that famous pearl necklace?” asked Anne.
But Polly was too amazed to ask anything.
“It was the famous necklace of purest pearls that had been lost for the past sixty years. It was worth about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, at the time it disappeared. To-day it would be worth much more. But it belonged to the French Museum, and a reward of two hundred thousand francs had been offered for trace of it, or its return. So long ago had that reward been recorded in every civilized land, that the present generation had never heard of it – except in history.
“Well, I took a receipt from Tiffany for its safe-keeping, and they assured me that they would communicate with the French Ambassador, without delay. Meanwhile I was to communicate with my friend Avery. Naturally I withheld all information as to the manner in which the necklace had been discovered.
“I went to Avery’s office, immediately, and acted very sorry as I said: ‘Avery, if I were to tell you that I lost that necklace, what would you do to me?’
“He only laughed and said: ‘I’d make you buy my wife one as good, or one she might prefer to that greasy one!’
“Then I said: ‘Avery, I never had, nor do I expect to have as much money as that necklace is worth! Man alive, it is now in Tiffany’s safe, insured for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, against fire or theft!’
“I thought Avery would faint, but when he had managed to collect his wits, he whispered hoarsely, ‘I don’t understand – were they genuine pearls?’
“So I told him the story and we both rushed away to hire a taxi and then we drove madly to Tiffany’s, again. I introduced Avery as the owner of the pearls, and he was treated to a sight of his little twelve-dollar bargain.
“Well, the upshot of it was, Avery received a ‘present’ of a hundred thousand dollars from the French Government, and in return he signed a release for himself, his wife, his heirs, friends, acquaintances, and, in fact, every American citizen in the census. He was told that he would be held responsible, thereafter, for all claims or lawsuits instituted against France to recover the necklace. And he accepted the burden, considering he had such a price paid for the job.
“One day Izaacs got a present through the mail, of a draft for a thousand dollars and to this day he doesn’t know who the signer ‘William Avery,’ can be.
“My old jeweler on Union Square got another thousand, and I – well, I refused everything, and Avery called me a numb-skull and an easy mark! So he invested half of all he received in my wife and Nancy’s name, and that is how they went to Europe.” Mr. Fabian smiled reminiscently at the end of the story.
CHAPTER V – FIRST DAYS AT SCHOOL
Polly and her friends had moved into the Studio and were recovering from the orgy of the house-warming given them by the Evans and Latimers the previous evening, when the two boys came to say good-by.
“Ah, come on, Nolla – bring Polly and see us to the train,” coaxed Jim, watching the clock on the mantel.
“But, Jim, we honestly haven’t the time! If you knew all we had to do this week!” sighed Eleanor.
“Why, we could have been there in the time you have taken to explain how busy you are,” grumbled Jim.
“Then get out! If I have wasted so much precious time it is because you stand there and make me. Good-by, old pal, now scat!” Eleanor held out her hand and laughed. But Jim was not so easily daunted.
“Where’s Ken all this time? Oh, I say, Ken! Come on!”
“I think Ken and Polly went down the street while you two were out in the garden hunting for the grass,” said Mrs. Stewart, without a smile.
Jim laughed. And Eleanor caught up her hat from the divan and ran to the door. “If they go away like that, then you and I will, too.”
Having reached the corner, however, Jim and Eleanor saw Ken and Polly intently studying something held in the latter’s palm.
“Come on – we will see what it is they caught?” said Eleanor.
“Oh, Nolla, see what Ken gave me for a keep-sake. We found it over at Old Izaac’s,” exclaimed Polly, holding out the strange trinket for her friend to admire.
“Why, it’s a real scarab. Isn’t it a beauty,” said Eleanor, then suddenly wishing Jim had thought of giving her a keep-sake.
“That’s why I wanted you to come out with me. I told Ken you girls’d forget about us the minute we were out of sight, unless you had something to remind you of us,” explained Jim.
“Come on, then, and let Nolla pick out what she wants,” added Ken, laughingly.
“I’ll take the queen’s pearl necklace!” and young hearts made merry of the pearls that had cost so many lives and so much misery.
Eleanor selected a peculiar seal set in a strange stone. “There, I will use it on the first letter I write you,” she said.
“Now that you are here, you may as well jump on the car and take us to the train,” begged Jim.
And this time he had his way. But they did not catch the four o’clock express to New Haven, as it was four-ten when they reached the gates and found them closed.
“Now we’ll have to sit and talk until five,” laughed Jim, exultantly.
“We’ll do nothing of the sort! I told you we had no time to waste on you boys, and we only came thus far to be polite in exchange for the keep-sakes. But you can have them back if you think it gives you the right to order me around.”
Eleanor held out the seal, but Jim looked forlorn. Then she laughed because he felt bad at her teasing.
“Come now, Jimmy, say good-by like an old dear, and tell Polly and me to run home.”
“I wish you were my sister!” sighed Jim.
“Your sister? What good would that do you?” asked Eleanor.
“Because you’d let me kiss you good-by!” retorted he.
They all laughed merrily, and Polly said: “You’d never want to kiss her if she was a sister. You wouldn’t even have asked her to come to the station with you.”
“You’re right, Poll! Now I’m going – good-by, boys!” and Eleanor held forth both hands – one to each boy.
After many repeated good-bys, the girls left and slowly walked down the avenue. When they had reached the parkway that runs over the car-tunnel, and is known by the name of Madison avenue, Polly said: “Why wouldn’t you wait for the train, Nolla?”
“Because, Polly, I like both those boys and I don’t want to lose them so soon. If a male thinks we females will run at beck and call for them, they quickly weary of such a game. It is the one who refuses to be wound about a finger, that always keeps the beaux on a string.”
Polly laughed. “You are too worldly-wise for me. Now I never should have dreamed of such a thing.”
“Well, I’m right! One reason Bob never has a beau is just because she shows how anxious she is for one.”
“Oh, no, Nolla! The reason Bob hasn’t any beaux is on account of her disposition – you know that!”
“That, too, Polly. But mostly, because she throws herself at the head of any eligible man. I tell you, a man won’t have it so!”
“Never mind, Nolla. You and I are never going to have beaux, so we should worry! We will marry our profession!” said Polly.
The following Monday, Anne escorted her two charges to the school on West End avenue. It was a wonderful Autumn day and the girls pictured how beautiful the mountains about Pebbly Pit must look on such a clear day.
As the Fifth avenue bus was most convenient for Polly and her companions, boarding it at Thirtieth street and leaving it at the corner of Seventy-second street where West End avenue started northward, they had but a short walk to reach the school.
Eleanor had been most particular with Polly’s, and her own appearance, that morning. “For,” said she, “first impressions are lasting. We must be sure and make a favorable dent in these girls.”
“But we don’t know one of them, Nolla,” argued Polly.
“All the more reason why we should take the head of the line!” retorted Eleanor, tossing her head.
Anne laughed, and thought to herself, “They will surely take the head in everything, for I never saw two such live girls.”
But to Eleanor’s chagrin the examinations classed Polly with girls of fifteen to sixteen, while she was placed with girls of fourteen years. This caused the temperamental girl to feel discouraged and she began to blame her ill-health for her backwardness.
In every other way, Polly and she ranked equal; and not a girl in the whole exclusive school could boast of better or more fashionable dresses than these two western scholars. Eleanor was most talkative, describing her home in Chicago and the people the Maynards knew. Then she whispered, covertly, how rich Polly Brewster was – she owned a great gold mine all in her own rights. She spoke thrillingly of Rainbow Cliffs and the tons upon tons of rare stones to be found there, until every girl sighed in envy. But Eleanor failed to mention that the stones would have to be cut and polished before they would be of any use to anyone.
A few stray sentences of these conversations reached Anne’s ears, and she felt puzzled to know what was best to do. Eleanor was not bragging because she needed place or power in the group, but the teacher understood that she was exaggerating for Polly’s sake. She wanted all the girls to look up to Polly as a subject would to a queen. She knew how Barbara had felt toward the simple ranch people, and these girls were of the same ilk – society’s pets. And they could make life unhappy for Polly, or a dream of joy.
That afternoon, as school closed, Anne overheard one of the girls repeating Eleanor’s words, but they had not lost in the repetition. In fact, Anne was sure Eleanor did not say quite all that she was credited with. On the way to the Studio, therefore, she determined to speak to Eleanor about the matter.
“Eleanor, you seemed to make a bushel of friends without any trouble,” said Anne.
“I always do. It’s best to have done with it, and then you can sift out those you don’t like, afterward,” laughed Eleanor.
“How about you, Polly?” questioned Anne.
“I was too busy with my lessons to bother about anyone, but I thought the girls acted rather queer this afternoon. I caught some of them whispering about me, and some were casting envious glances my way. I can’t understand why they should?”
Eleanor gasped. Here was a danger she had not thought of. She wouldn’t risk Polly’s peace or popularity for anything in the world, but she may have unconsciously done just that very thing!
“I heard some of the girls talking of your gold mine and Rainbow Cliffs, and I wondered if you had made such close friends, so soon,” ventured Anne, guilefully.
“Oh, I did that! Nothing like putting on a lot of ‘dog’ if you want to make a splash in the puddle,” hastily explained Eleanor.
Anne felt like laughing but she hid her face, and Polly turned pale with annoyance.
“Why, Nolla! How could you? You know I’d rather be considered a nobody than stand in a false light. Now what can I do to clear this up?”
“It isn’t false light at all, Polly. You can’t do anything now without making me out a fibber,” retorted Eleanor.
“You are acting just like your sister Bob might have done! That’s the worst thing I can say to you,” scorned Polly.
“And I did it all for you, too!” whimpered Eleanor.
“Didn’t I tell you, back at Pebbly Pit, that I wanted to cut my own cloth? For goodness’ sake, don’t interfere in my private life again!”
“But you’ve got to let folks know you’re someone, or you will never climb to the top of the heap,” argued Eleanor, stubbornly.
“I have my own method of reaching the top, Eleanor, and it is not that way. I was Polly Brewster before you ever knew me and I am that same Polly Brewster even after having a gold mine and a mile of lava-jewels thrust down my throat. Don’t say another word!”
Polly turned her back and went to the end seat on the bus, leaving Anne to console poor Eleanor.
“Look’a here, Anne – did I do anything so awful?”
“You made a serious mistake, Nolla, when you talked to those strange girls about Polly. You tried to make her appear as if she approved of your method of bragging about the mine and money.”
“W-h-y, I never dreamed of such a thing! I only wanted these New York girls to get it straight from the start that our Polly of Pebbly Pit was ‘some punkins’;” Eleanor tried to laugh.
“And you succeeded in not only humiliating Polly, but me also, because I am responsible for both of you, to a certain degree.”
“Humiliate Polly and you!” gasped Eleanor.
“Exactly what you did. I have been placed in command of this little family, and the first day at school, you deliberately thrust yourself forward – take my place, so to speak – and tell all the strangers there who Polly is, and who you and I are. In fact, you give out information that should come only from me.”
“I’m sorry, but for goodness’ sake let’s drop it, now.”
“We’d better settle the matter once for all, Nolla, before we drop it. If Polly and you are to continue the wonderful friendship begun this Summer at the ranch, you must never again say, or do anything, that trespasses on her rights. Remember that each one of us has an individual right to impart what we like about our private affairs – be it family or fortune. But the moment another speaks for us, then it becomes gossip and scandal on the part of that impertinent one.
“I do not propose having my time and thoughts disturbed by any inharmony rising between you two girls, and if another occasion comes up, when Polly and you disagree as you have to-day, I’ll wire to your father to come and take you home. If Polly is to blame, then I’ll send her home. But, thus far, it is you who trespassed on Polly’s rights.
“If you’ll think this over quietly, and without prejudice, I’m sure you’ll agree that I am just and right in my stand.”
That evening, Eleanor apologised to Anne and Polly for her thoughtless impulse that day, and fervently prayed that she never be tempted to open her lips again.
It was not Polly’s nature to sulk or remember unpleasant episodes, so everything went along smoothly after that first day at school.
Tuesday evening Mr. Fabian called, and was welcomed to his erstwhile fireside. During that visit, it developed that he had accepted an offer which several of his friends had urged upon him. He was to teach, three times a week, a class in art designing at Cooper Union Institute. And before he said good-night to the ladies, it had been suggested and settled, that Polly and Eleanor were to join the evening classes on the three nights a week that their friend taught at the school.
Mrs. Stewart worried lest the girls would be wearing themselves out with too much study. But it was found that the work in the art classes under Mr. Fabian’s watchful eye, was a pleasure rather than a study or work.
Thus they started to build on a firm foundation, and by degrees they mastered the rudiments of geometrical drawing, then went on to ornamental designing, next taking up the study of architecture in so far as it applied to interior decorating, and at the end of the year they were drawing free hand and perspective sketches. But that was not until the school term was almost over.
By the end of the first week at Mrs. Wellington’s school, the girls had chosen their friends for the term. It was most interesting to Anne to note that a certain social element looked up to Eleanor as their natural leader, while the quiet persistent sort silently fell in line with Polly. Both girls were admired and heartily liked, by teachers as well as scholars, but there was one disturbing young lady who resented the usurping of her former undisputed sway in the school by the two new-comers.
Elizabeth Dalken was the pretty, but vain daughter of a superficial society woman who thought of nothing but self-indulgence, leaving the training of her child to Fate. Hence, Elizabeth was the usual product: selfish, proud, arrogant and hypocritical. She was but fifteen, yet she could slyly cheat at bridge, smoke her mother’s cigarettes, and flirt with the men who frequented her home, as cleverly as her mother could.
For two previous years she had taken the reins of leadership at Wellington’s school and she had returned the third Fall fully expecting to resume her authority.
To learn that a western ranch-girl without a record in “Who’s Who,” and a mere Chicago Miss, governed her former subjects, turned Elizabeth white with rage. She could say nothing about it, however, without starting her school friends’ teasing and laughing at her downfall. And she could not leave the school, because her mother had deserted her husband. He was the cashier for all the luxuries Mrs. Dalken and her daughter indulged themselves in, and he had selected Wellington’s school for the girl, and had paid the tuition fee in advance, so it stood to reason that he would not consent to a change, now, on account of her jealousy.
So on that first Friday evening, upon leaving school, Elizabeth promised herself that she would “get square” with those “two nobodys” in short order! She would show those other girls at Mrs. Wellington’s just who she was, and why they should have kept her as their leader!
But the western girls were not shamming their lovable characters, and as time went on, their companions appreciated, more and more, the sterling qualities in their chosen leaders. Thus Elizabeth found it no easy task to influence the girls against them.
October passed and November began, with the girls at Mrs. Wellington’s planning for a Thanksgiving entertainment to close their school for the holiday. Here Polly was discounted, as she had never taken part in amateur theatricals, and knew nothing about them. Had anyone asked her to differentiate between the Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian or Composite order of classic periods of architecture, she could have described either, or all of them, almost as well as Mr. Fabian himself could do. But the scholars at Mrs. Wellington’s never dreamed of Polly’s ambition and knowledge along such lines of study.
So Elizabeth found herself the one to whom everyone appealed about costumes, parts, and the general management of affairs. Eleanor resented the obvious fact that she was completely ignored when the various important parts were distributed, but Polly never gave it a thought.
“We couldn’t accept a part, anyway, Nolla, with all the time we have planned to give to exhibitions and lectures, this month,” Polly reminded her.