An Old-Fashioned Girl
12. Forbidden Fruit
"I 'M perfectly aching for some fun," said Polly to herself as she opened her window one
morning and the sunshine and frosty air set her blood dancing and her eyes sparkling
with youth, health, and overflowing spirits. "I really must break out somewhere and have
a good time. It 's quite impossible to keep steady any longer. Now what will I do?" Polly
sprinkled crumbs to the doves, who came daily to be fed, and while she watched the
gleaming necks and rosy feet, she racked her brain to devise some unusually delightful
way of enjoying herself, for she really had bottled up her spirits so long, they were in a
state of uncontrollable effervescence.
"I 'll go to the opera," she suddenly announced to the doves. "It 's expensive, I know, but
it 's remarkably good, and music is such a treat to me. Yes, I 'll get two tickets as cheap
as I can, send a note to Will, poor lad, he needs fun as much as I do, and we 'll go and
have a nice time in some corner, as Charles Lamb and his sister used to."
With that Polly slammed down the window, to the dismay of her gentle little pensioners,
and began to fly about with great energy, singing and talking to herself as if it was
impossible to keep quiet. She started early to her first lesson that she might have time
to buy the tickets, hoping, as she put a five-dollar bill into her purse, that they would n't
be very high, for she felt that she was not in a mood to resist temptation. But she was
spared any struggle, for when she reached the place, the ticket office was blocked up
by eager purchasers and the disappointed faces that turned away told Polly there was
no hope for her.
"Well, I don't care, I 'll go somewhere, for I will have my fun," she said with great
determination, for disappointment only seemed to whet her appetite. But the playbills
showed her nothing inviting and she was forced to go away to her work with the money
burning her pocket and all manner of wild schemes floating in her head. At noon,
instead of going home to dinner, she went and took an ice, trying to feet very gay and
festive all by herself. It was rather a failure, however, and after a tour of the picture
shops she went to give Maud a lesson, feeling that it was very hard to quench her
longings, and subside into a prim little music teacher.
Fortunately she did not have to do violence to her feelings very long, for the first thing
Fanny said to her was: "Can you go?"
"Did n't you get my note?"
"I did n't go home to dinner."