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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/5632.txt b/5632.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..87c142d --- /dev/null +++ b/5632.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9565 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Five Little Peppers Midway, by Margaret Sidney + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Five Little Peppers Midway + +Author: Margaret Sidney + +Posting Date: April 30, 2013 [EBook #5632] +Release Date: May, 2004 +First Posted: July 26, 2002 +Last Updated: April 17, 2007 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS MIDWAY *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS MIDWAY + +By MARGARET SIDNEY + + + + + To + MY LITTLE MARGARET + Who Is Phronsie Pepper to All + Who Know Her +This Book Is Lovingly Inscribed + + + + +CONTENTS + + 1 Phronsie's Pie + 2 Cousin Eunice Chatterton + 3 The Rehearsal + 4 Welcome Home! + 5 After the Play + 6 The Little Brown House + 7 Old Times Again + 8 Some Badgertown Calls + 9 A Sudden Blow + 10 The Party Separates + 11 Poor Polly! + 12 New Work for Polly + 13 A Piece of News + 14 Mamsie's Wedding + 15 Mrs. Chatterton Has a New Plan + 16 Where Is Phronsie? + 17 Phronsie Is Found + 18 The Girls Have Polly Again + 19 Phronsie Is Well Again + 20 The Secret + 21 The Whitneys' Little Plan + 22 Joel + 23 Of Many Things + 24 Away + + + + +I + +PHRONSIE'S PIE + + +"Jefferson," said Phronsie, with a grave uplifting of her eyebrows, "I +think I will go down into the kitchen and bake a pie; a very little +pie, Jefferson." + +"Bless you, Miss," replied the cook, showing his white teeth in glee, +"it is the making of the kitchen when you come it." + +"Yes, Jefferson," said Phronsie slowly, "I think I will go down make +one. It must be very, very full of plums, you know," looking up at him +anxiously, "for Polly dearly loves plums." + +"It shall be that plummy," said Jefferson convincingly, "that you'd +think you never saw such a one for richness. Oh, my! what a pie that +shall be!" exclaimed the cook, shutting up one eye to look through the +other in a spasm of delight at an imaginary pie; "so it's for Miss +Mary, is it?" + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "it is. Oh, Jefferson, I'm so glad you like to +have me make one," she clasped her hands in silent rapture, and sat +down on the lowest stair to think it over a bit, Jefferson looking at +her, forgetful that the under cook was fuming in the deserted domains +over his delay to return. At last he said, bowing respectfully, "If you +please, Miss, it's about time to begin. Such a pie ain't done without a +deal of care, and we'd best have it a-baking as soon as may be." + +"Yes," said Phronsie, getting off from her stair, and surrendering her +hand to his big black palm, "we ought to go right this very minute. But +I must get my apron on;" she stopped and looked down at her red dress. + +"Oh! you can take one of my aprons," said the cook, "they're as fine, +and big, and white, and I'll just put you in one of 'em and tie you up +as snug; you'll come out as clean and sweet when we're through, as you +are now, Miss." + +"Tie me up?" laughed Phronsie in glee. "Oh! how nice, Jefferson. Do you +know I love you very much, Jefferson, you're so very good to me?" + +The big fellow drew a long breath. "No, Miss, I'm big and black, and +just fit to stay downstairs," he managed to say. + +"But I love you better because you are black, Jefferson," insisted +Phronsie, "a great deal better. You are not like everybody else, but +you are just yourself," clinging to his hand. + +"Well, Miss, I ain't just fit for a lily to touch and that's the +truth," looking down at his palm that the small white hand grasped +closely. "It's clean, Miss," he added with pardonable pride, "but it's +awful black." + +"I like it better black, Jefferson," said Phronsie again, "really and +truly I do, because then it's your very, very own," in a tone that +thrilled him much as if a queen had knighted him on the spot. + +This important declaration over, the two set forth on their way toward +the kitchen, Phronsie clinging to his hand, and chatting merrily over +the particular pie in prospect, with varied remarks on pies in general, +that by and by would be ventured upon if this present one were a +success--and very soon tied up in one of the cook's whitest aprons she +was seated with due solemnity at the end of the baking table, the +proper utensils and materials in delightful confusion before her, and +the lower order of kitchen satellites revolving around her, and +Jefferson the lesser sphere. + +"Now all go back to your work," said that functionary when he +considered the staring and muttered admiration had been indulged in +long enough, "and leave us." + +"I want you," said his assistant, touching his elbow. + +"Clear out," said Jefferson angrily, his face turned quite from +Phronsie. + +But she caught the tone and immediately laid down the bit of dough she +was moulding. + +"Do go," she begged, "and come back quickly," smiling up into his face. +"See, I'm going to pat and pat and pat, oh! ever so much before you +come back." + +So Jefferson followed the under cook, the scullery boy went back to +cleaning the knives, Susan, the parlor maid who was going through the +kitchen with her dustpan and broom, hurried off with a backward glance +or two, and Phronsie was left quite alone to hum her way along in her +blissful culinary attempt. + +"Bless me!" exclaimed a voice close to her small ear, as she was +attempting for the fifth time to roll out the paste quite as thin as +she had seen Jefferson do, "what is this? Bless my soul! it's Phronsie!" + +Phronsie set down the heavy rolling-pin and turned in her chair with a +gleeful laugh. + +"Dear, dear Grandpapa!" she cried, clasping her floury hands, "oh! I'm +so glad you've come to see me make a pie all by myself. It's for Polly, +and it's to be full of plums; Jefferson let me make it." + +"Jefferson? And where is he, pray?" cried Mr. King irately. "Pretty +fellow, to bring you down to these apartments, and then go off and +forget you. Jefferson!" he called sharply, "here, where are you?" + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Phronsie in dire distress, "I sent him; +Jefferson didn't want to go, Grandpapa dear, really and truly, he went +because I asked him." + +"If you please, sir," began Jefferson, hurrying up, "I only stepped off +a bit to the cellar. Bassett sent down a lot of turnips, they ain't +first-rate, and"-- + +"All right," said Mr. King, cutting him short with a wave of his hand, +"if Miss Phronsie sent you off, it's all right; I don't want to hear +any more elaborate explanations." + +"Little Miss hasn't been alone but a few minutes," said Jefferson in a +worried way. + +"And see," said Phronsie, turning back to her efforts, while one hand +grasped the old gentleman's palm, "I've almost got it to look like +Jefferson's. Almost, haven't I?" she asked, regarding it anxiously. + +"It will be the most beautiful pie," cried Mr. King, a hearty +enthusiasm succeeding his irritability, "that ever was baked. I wish +you'd make me one sometime, Phronsie." + +"Do you?" she cried in a tremor of delight, "and will you really have +it on the table, and cut it with Aunt Whitney's big silver knife?" + +"That I will," declared Mr. King solemnly. + +"Then some day I'll come down here again, Jefferson," cried Phronsie in +a transport, "and bake one for my dear Grandpapa. That is, if this one +is good. Oh! you do suppose it will be good, don't you?" appealingly at +him. + +"It shall," said Jefferson stoutly, and seizing the rolling-pin with +extreme determination. "You want a bit more butter worked in, here," a +dab with skillful fingers, and a little manipulation with the flour, a +roll now and then most deftly, and the paste was laid out before +Phronsie. "Now, Miss, you can put it in the dish." + +"But is isn't my pie," said Phronsie, and, big girl as she felt herself +to be, she sat back in her chair, her lower lip quivering. + +"Not your pie?" repeated the cook, bringing himself up straight to gaze +at her. + +"No," said Phronsie, shaking her yellow head gravely, "it isn't my pie +now, Jefferson. You put in the things, and rolled it." + +"Leave your fingers off from it, can't you?" cried Mr. King sharply. +"Goodness! this pie isn't to have a professional touch about it. Get +some more flour and stuff, whatever it is you make a pie of, and let +her begin again. There, I'll sit down and watch you; then there'll be +some chance of having things straight." So he drew up a chair to the +side of the table, first calling off Pete, the scullery boy, from his +knives to come and wipe it off for him, and Mrs. Tucker who was in +kitchen dialect "Tucker," to see that the boy did his work well. + +"Lor' bless you, sir," said Tucker, bestowing a final polish with her +apron, "'twas like satin before, sir--not a wisp of dust." + +"I don't want any observations from you," said the old gentleman, +depositing himself in the chair. "There, you can go back to your work, +Mrs. Tucker, and you too, Pete. Now I'll see that this pie is to your +liking, Phronsie." + +But Phronsie still sat back in her chair, thoughtfully surveying +Jefferson. + +"Grandpapa," she said at last slowly, "I think I'd rather have the +first pie, I really would, Grandpapa, may I?" She brought her yellow +head forward by a sudden movement, and looked deep into his keen eyes. + +"Bless my soul! Rather have the first pie?" repeated the old gentleman +in astonishment, "why, I thought you wanted to make one all yourself." + +"I think I'd rather do part of it," said Phronsie with great +deliberateness, "then Polly'll like it, and eat it, and I'll do yours, +Grandpapa dear, just as Jefferson fixed mine, all alone. Please let +me." She held him fast with her eyes, and waited for his answer. + +"So you shall!" cried Mr. King in great satisfaction, "make mine all +alone. This one would better go as it is. Put away the flour and +things, Jefferson; Miss Phronsie doesn't want them." + +Phronsie gave a relieved little sigh. "And, Jefferson, if you hadn't +showed me how, I couldn't ever in all this world make Grandpapa's. Now +give me the little plate, do." + +"Here 'tis, Miss," said the cook, all his tremor over the blunder he +had made, disappearing, since, after all, things were quite +satisfactory. And the little plate forthcoming, Phronsie tucked away +the paste lovingly in its depths, and began the important work of +concocting the mixture with which the pie was to be filled, Mr. King +sitting by with the gravity of a statue, even to the deliberate placing +of each plum. + +"Where's Phronsie?" called a voice above in one of the upper halls. + +"Oh! she's coming, Polly is!" cried Phronsie, deserting a plum thrust +in endwise in the middle of the pie, to throw her little sticky fingers +around Jefferson's neck; "oh! do take off my apron; and let me go. +She'll see my pie!" + +"Stop!" cried Mr. King, getting up somewhat stiffly to his feet, "I'll +take off the apron myself. There, Phronsie, there you are. Whew! how +hot you keep your kitchen, Jefferson," and he wiped his face. + +"Now we'll run," said Phronsie softly, "and not make a bit of noise, +Grandpapa dear, and, Jefferson, please put on my top to the pie, and +don't let it burn, and I'll come down very, very soon again, and bake +one all alone by myself for Grandpapa." + +The old gentleman kept up very well with the soft patter of her feet +till they reached the foot of the staircase. "There, there, child," he +said, "there's not the least need of hurry now." + +"But she will come down," said Phronsie, in gentle haste pulling at his +hand, "then if she should see it, Grandpapa!" + +"To be sure; that would indeed be dreadful," said Mr. King, getting +over the stairs very creditably. "There, here we are now. Whew! it's +terribly warm in this house!" + +But there was no danger from Polly; she was at this very instant, not +being able to find Phronsie, hurrying off toward the library in search +of Mrs. Whitney. + +"We want to do the very loveliest thing!" she cried, rushing in, her +cheeks aflame. "Oh! pray excuse me." She stopped short, blushing +scarlet. + +"Don't feel badly, Polly dear," said Mrs. Whitney, over in the dim +light, where the divan was drawn up in the east window, and she held +out her hand and smiled; the other lady whose tete-a-tete was thus +summarily disturbed was elderly and very tall and angular. She put up +her eyeglass at the intrusion and murmured "Ah?" + +"This is Polly Pepper," said Mrs. Whitney, as Polly, feeling unusually +awkward and shy, stumbled across the library to get within the kind +arms awaiting her. + +"One of the children that your kindness received in this house?" said +the tall lady, making good use of the eyeglass. The color mounted +steadily on Polly's already rosy cheek, at the scrutiny now going on +with the greatest freedom. + +"One of the dear children who make this house a sunny place for us +all," said Mrs. Whitney distinctly. + +"Ah? I see. You are extremely good to put it in that way." A low, +well-bred laugh followed this speech. Its sound irritated the young +girl's ear unspeakably, and the brown eyes flashed, and though there +was really no occasion to feel what was not addressed to her, Polly was +quite sure she utterly disliked the lady before her. + +"My dear Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. Whitney in the gentlest of +accents, "you do not comprehend; it is not possible for you to +understand how very happy we all are here. The house is quite another +place, I assure you, from the abode you saw last before you went +abroad." + +Mrs. Chatterton gave another low, unpleasant laugh, and this time +shrugged her shoulders. + +"Polly dear," said Mrs. Whitney with a smile, "say good-morning to Mrs. +Chatterton, and then run away. I will hear your wonderful plan by and +by. I shall be glad to, child," she was guilty of whispering in the +small ear. + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Chatterton," said Polly slowly, the brown eyes +looking steadily into the traveled and somewhat seamed countenance +before her. + +"Good-morning," and Polly found herself once more across the floor, and +safely out in the hall, the door closed between them. + +"Who is she?" she cried in an indignant spasm to Jasper, who ran up, +and she lifted her eyes brimming over with something quite new to him. +He stopped aghast. + +"Who?" he cried. "Oh, Polly! what has happened?" + +"Mrs. Chatterton. And she looked at me--oh! I can't tell you how she +looked; as if I were a bug, or a hateful worm beneath her," cried +Polly, quite as much aghast at herself. "It makes me feel horridly, +Jasper--you can't think. Oh! that old"--He stopped, pulling himself up +with quite an effort. "Has she come back--what brought her, pray tell, +so soon?" + +"I don't know, I am sure," said Polly, laughing at his face. "I was +only in the room a moment, I think, but it seemed an age with that +eyeglass, and that hateful little laugh." + +"Oh! she always sticks up that thing in her eye," said Jasper coolly, +"and she's everlastingly ventilating that laugh on everybody. She +thinks it high-bred and elegant, but it makes people want to kill her +for it." He looked and spoke annoyed. "To think you fell into her +clutches!" he added. + +"Well, who is she?" cried Polly, smoothing down her ruffled feathers, +when she saw the effect of her news on him. "I should dearly love to +know." + +"Cousin Algernon's wife," said Jasper briefly. + +"And who is he?" cried Polly, again experiencing a shock that this +dreadful person was a relative to whom due respect must be shown. + +"Oh! a cousin of father's," said Jasper. "He was nice, but he's dead." + +"Oh!" said Polly. + +"She's been abroad for a good half-dozen years, and why she doesn't +stay there when everybody supposed she was going to, astonishes me," +said Jasper, after a moment. "Well, it will not be for long, I presume, +that we shall have the honor; she'll be easily tired of America, and +take herself off again." + +"She doesn't stay in this house, does she, Jasper?" cried Polly in a +tone of horror. + +"No; that is, unless she chooses to, then we can't turn her off. She's +a relative, you know." + +"Hasn't she any home?" asked Polly, "or any children?" + +"Home? Yes, an estate down in Bedford County?-Dunraven Lodge; but it's +all shut up, and in the hands of agents who have been trying for the +half-dozen years she was abroad, to sell it for her. She may have come +back to settle down there again, there's no telling what she will do. +In the meantime, I fancy she'll make her headquarters here," he said +gloomily. + +"Oh, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly, seizing his arm, feeling that here was +need of comfort indeed, "how very dreadful! Don't you suppose something +will happen to take her away?" + +"I don't see what can," said Jasper, prolonging the gloom to feel the +comfort it brought. "You see she has nobody who wants her, to step in +and relieve us. She has two nephews, but oh! you ought to see them +fight!" + +"Fight?" repeated Polly aghast. + +"Yes; you can't dignify their skirmishes by any other name," said +Jasper, in disgust. "So you see our chances for keeping her as long as +she condescends to stay are really very good." + +Polly clung to his arm in speechless dismay. Meanwhile conversation +fast and brisk was going on between the two shut up in the library. + +"It is greatly to your discredit, Marian," said Mrs. Chatterton in a +high, cold voice, "that you didn't stop all this nonsense on your +father's part, before the thing got to such a pass as to install them +in this house." + +"On the contrary," said Mrs. Whitney with a little laugh, "I did +everything I could to further the plan that father wisely made." + +"Wisely!" cried Mrs. Chatterton in scorn. "Oh, you silly child! don't +you see what it will all tend to?" + +"I see that it has made us all very happy for five years," said Mrs. +Whitney, preserving her composure, "so I presume the future doesn't +hold much to dread on that score." + +"The future is all you have to dread," declared Mrs. Chatterton +harshly. "The present may be well enough; though I should think +existence with that low, underbred family here, would be a"? + +"You may pause just where you are, Mrs. Chatterton," said Marian, still +with the gentlest of accents, but with a determination that made the +other look down at her in astonishment, "not another word shall you +utter in that strain, nor will I listen to it." And with fine temper +undisturbed in her blue eyes, she regarded her relative. + +"Dear me, Marian! I begin to notice your age more now. You shouldn't +fly into such rages; they wear on one fearfully; and especially for a +stranger too, and against your own people--how can you?" + +Mrs. Chatterton drew out a vinaigrette, then a fan from a silken bag, +with clasps that she was always glad to reflect were heirlooms. "It's +trying, I must confess," she declared, alternately applying the +invigorating salts and waving the combination of gauze and sandalwood, +"to come home to such a reception. But," and a heavy sigh, "I must bear +it." + +"You ought to see father," cried Mrs. Whitney, rising. "I must go at +once and tell him of your arrival." + +"Oh! I don't know that I care about seeing Cousin Horatio yet," said +Mrs. Chatterton carelessly. "He will probably fall into one of his +rages, and my nerves have been upset quite enough by you. I think I'll +go directly to my apartments." She rose also. + +"Father must at once be informed of your arrival," repeated Marian +quietly. "I'll send him in to see you." + +"And I shall go to my apartments," declared Mrs. Chatterton +determinedly. + +"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed Mr. King's voice, and in he came, with +Phronsie, fresh from the kitchen, clinging to his hand. + + + + +II + +COUSIN EUNICE CHATTERTON + + +Phronsie dropped one small hand by her side, and stood quite still +regarding the visitor. + +"Oh, my goodness me," ejaculated Mrs. Chatterton, startled out of her +elegance, and not pausing to adjust the glass, but using her two good +eyes to the best advantage. + +"Hoity-toity! So you are back again!" exclaimed Mr. King by way of +welcome. "Well, and if I may ask, what brought you now, Eunice?" + +Mrs. Chatterton gathered herself up and smiled in a superior way. + +"Never mind my reasons, Cousin Horatio. What a fine child you have +there;" now the glass came into play; "pray tell me all about her." + +"You have well said," observed Mr. King, seating himself with the +utmost deliberateness, and drawing Phronsie to her accustomed place on +his knee, where she nestled, regardless of his immaculate linen and +fine waistcoat, "Phronsie Pepper is indeed a fine child; a very fine +child, Madam." + +"Oh, my, and Oh, my!" cried Mrs. Chatterton, holding up her hands, "to +think that you can so demean yourself; why, she's actually mussing your +shirt-front with her dirty little hands!" + +"Phronsie Pepper's hands are never dirty, Madam," said the old +gentleman gravely. "Sit still, child," as Phronsie in a state of alarm +struggled to slip down from his lap, thrusting the two members thus +referred to, well out before her. + +Mrs. Chatterton burst into a loud laugh. "To think I have come to see +Horatio King in such a state! Jasper Horatio King!" she repeated +scornfully. "I heard about it through the Bascombs' letters, but I +wouldn't believe it till I used my eyes. It's positively dreadful!" + +Mr. King put back his head and laughed also; so heartily, that Phronsie +ceased to struggle, and turned to regard him in silent astonishment; +and Mrs. Whitney, charmed that the rage usually produced by +conversation with Cousin Algernon's wife was not forthcoming, began to +laugh, too, so that the amusement of the tall lady was quenched in the +general hilarity. + +"What you can find in my words to cause such an unseemly outburst, I +cannot see," she cried in a passion. + +"I'm under the impression that you led off the amusement yourself," +said Mr. King, wiping his eyes. "Phronsie, it's all very funny, isn't +it?" looking down into the little wondering face. + +"Is it really funny?" asked Phronsie. "Does the lady like it?" + +"Not particularly, I suspect," said Mr. King carelessly. + +"And that you can talk with that chit, ignoring me, your cousin's wife, +is insufferable." Mrs. Chatterton now arose speedily from the divan, +and shook out a flounce or two with great venom. "I had intended to +make you a visit. Now it is quite impossible." + +"As you like," said the old gentleman, also rising, and placing +Phronsie on her feet, observing ostentatious care to keep her hand. "My +house is open to you, Eunice," with a wave of his disengaged hand in +old-time hospitality, "but of course you must suit yourself." + +"It's rather hard upon a person of sensibility, to come home after a +six years' absence," said Cousin Eunice with a pathetic sniff, and once +more seeking her vinaigrette in the depths of the silken bag, "to meet +only coldness and derision. In fact, it is very hard." + +"No doubt, no doubt," said the old gentleman hastily, "I can imagine +such a case, but it has nothing to do with you. Now, if you are going +to stay, Eunice, say so at once, and proceed to your room. If not, why +you must go, and understand it is no one's fault but your own." + +He drew himself up and looked long and hard into the thin pale face +before him. Phronsie pulled at his hand. + +"I want to ask the lady to stay, Grandpapa dear." + +"She doesn't need urging," said old Mr. King quite distinctly, and not +moving a muscle. + +"But, Grandpapa dear, she isn't glad about something." + +"No more am I." + +"Grandpapa," cried Phronsie, moving off a bit, though not deserting his +hand, and standing on her tiptoes, "I want her to stay, to see me. +Perhaps she hasn't any little girls." + +"To see you?" cried Mr. King irately. "Say no more, child, say no more. +She's been abusing you right and left, like a pick-pocket." + +"What is a pick-pocket?" asked Phronsie, getting down from her tiptoes. + +"Oh! a scoundrel who puts his hands into pockets; picks out what +doesn't belong to him, in fact." + +Phronsie stood quite still, and shook her head gravely at the tall +figure. "That was not nice," she said soberly. + +"Now do you want her to stay?" cried the old gentleman. + +"Insufferable!" repeated Mrs. Chatterton between her teeth, "to mix me +up with that chit!" + +"Yes, I do," said Phronsie decidedly, "I do, Grandpapa. Now I know she +hasn't any little girls--if she had little girls, she wouldn't say such +very unnice things; I want the poor lady to stay with me." + +Mrs. Chatterton turned and went abruptly off to the door, hesitated, +and looked back. + +"I see your household is in a very chaotic state, Cousin Horatio. Still +I will remain a few days," with extreme condescension, "on condition +that these Peppers are not thrust upon my attention." + +"I make no conditions," said the old gentleman coolly. "If you stay, +you must accept my household as you find it." + +"Come, Marian," said Mrs. Chatterton, holding out her hand to Mrs. +Whitney. "You may help me to my apartments if you like. I am quite +unstrung by all this," and she swept out without a backward glance. + +"Has she gone?" cried Jasper, hurrying in with Polly running after. +"It's 'stay,' isn't it, father?" as he saw the old gentleman's face. + +"Yes," said Mr. King grimly, "it is 'stay' indeed, Jasper." + +"Well, now then, you've a piece of work on your hands about the biggest +you ever did yet, Polly Pepper!" cried Jasper, "to make things +comfortable in this house. I shall be just as cross as can be imagined, +to begin with." + +"You cross!" cried Polly. + +"Cross as a bear; Marian will fight against the prevailing ill wind, +but it will finally blow her down to a state of depression where her +best friend wouldn't recognize her, and"-- + +"You don't mention me, my boy," said Mr. King dryly. + +Jasper looked into his father's eyes, and they both laughed. + +"And if you, Polly Pepper, don't keep things bright, why, we shall all +go to the dogs," said the old gentleman, sobering down. "So mind you +do, and we'll try to bear Cousin Algernon's relict." + +"I will," said Polly stoutly, though "relict" sounded very dreadful to +begin with. + +"Give us your hand, then," said Jasper's father, putting out his palm. +"There!" releasing it, "now I'm much more comfortable about matters." + +"And give me your hand, Polly," cried Jasper, his own brown hand flying +to meet hers. "There! and now I'm comfortable too! So it's a compact, +and a sure one!" + +"And I want to give my hand," cried Phronsie, very much aggrieved. +"Here, Jasper." + +"Bless my soul, so you must!" cried old Mr. King; "to think we didn't +ask you first. There--and there!" + +"And, Phronsie darling," cried Polly in a rapture, "you must promise +with me, after you have with the others. I couldn't ever get along in +all this world without that." + +So the ceremony of sealing the compact having been observed with great +gravity, Phronsie drew a long breath, and now felt that the "poor lady" +might come down at any time to find all things prepared for her. + +"Now tell our plan," cried Jasper to Polly, "and put this disagreeable +business out of our heads. It's a fine one," he added to his father. + +"Of course it is," cried the old gentleman. + +"Well, you know Joel and Davie and Van and Percy are coming home from +school next week for the Christmas holidays," began Polly, trying to +still the wild beating of her heart. + +"Bless me! so they are," said Mr. King. "How time flies, to be sure! +Well, go on, Polly." + +"And we ought to do something to celebrate," said Polly, "at least +don't you think so?" she asked anxiously, looking up in his face. + +"To be sure I do," cried the old gentleman heartily. "Well, what would +you do, Polly child, to show the youngsters we're proud of them, and +glad to get them back--hey?" + +"We want to get up a little play," said Polly, "Jasper and I, and act +it." + +"And have music," cried Jasper. "Polly shall play on the piano. The +boys will be so delighted to see how she has improved." + +"And Jasper will play too," cried Polly eagerly. "Oh, Jasper! will you +play that concerto, the one you played when Mary Gibbs was here at tea +last week? Do, Jasper, do." + +"That nearly floored me," said Jasper. + +"No; you said it was Mary's watching you like a lynx--you know you +did," said Polly, laughing merrily. + +"Never mind," said the old gentleman. "What next, Polly? The play is +all right." + +"I should think it was," cried Jasper. "It's the Three Dragons, and the +Princess Clotilde." + +"Oh, my goodness," exclaimed Mr. King, "What a play for Christmas Eve!" + +"Well, you'll say it's a splendid hit!" cried Jasper, "when you see it +from the private box we are going to give you." + +"So you are intending to honor me, are you?" cried his father, vastly +pleased to find himself as ever, the central figure in their plans. +"Well, well, I dare say it will all be as fine as can be to welcome +these young scapegraces home. What next, Polly?" + +"It must be kept a perfect surprise," cried Polly, clasping her hands +while the color flew over her face. "No one must even whisper it to +each other, the day before Christmas when the boys get here, for Joel +is so very dreadful whenever there is a secret." + +"His capacity certainly is good," said Mr. King dryly. "We will all be +very careful." + +"And Phronsie is to be Princess Clotilde," cried Jasper, seizing her +suddenly, to prance around the room, just like old times. + +"Oh, Jasper! I'm eight years old," she cried, struggling to free +herself. + +"Nonsense! What of it--you are the baby of this household." But he set +her on her feet nevertheless, one hand still patting the soft yellow +waves over her brow. "Go on, Polly, do, and lay the whole magnificence +before father. He will be quite overcome." + +"That would be disastrous," said Mr. King; "better save your effects +till the grand affair comes off." + +"Jasper is to be one of the dragons," announced Polly, quite in her +element, "that is, the head dragon; Ben is to be another, and we +haven't quite decided whether to ask Archy Hurd or Clare to take the +third one." + +"Clare has the most 'go' in him," said Jasper critically. + +"Then I think we'll decide now to ask him," said Polly, "don't you, +Jasper?" + +"A dragon without 'go' in him would be most undesirable, I should +fancy. Well, what next do you propose to do, Polly?" asked Mr. King. + +"Now that we know that you will allow us to have it," cried Polly in a +rapture, "why, we can think up splendid things. We've only the play +written so far, sir." + +"Polly wrote the most," said Jasper. + +"Oh, no, Jasper! I only put in the bits," said Polly. "He planned +it?--every single bit, Jasper did." + +"Well, she thought up the dragons, and the cave, and"?-- + +"Oh! that was easy enough," said Polly, guilty of interrupting, +"because you see something has to carry off the Princess Clotilde." + +"Oh, now! you are not going to frighten my little girl," cried Mr. +King. "I protest against the whole thing if you do," and he put out his +hand. "Come, Phronsie," when, as of old, she hurried to his side +obediently. + +"Oh! we are going to show her the boys, and how we dress them up just +like dragons," cried Polly, "and while they are prancing around and +slashing their tails at rehearsal, I'm going to keep saying, 'That's +nothing but Jasper and Ben and Clare, you know, Phronsie,' till I get +her accustomed to them. You won't be frightened, will you, pet, at +those dear, sweet old dragons?" she ended, and getting on her knees, +she looked imploringly into Phronsie's brown eyes. + +"N--no," said Phronsie, slowly, "not if they are really Jasper and Ben +and Clare." + +"They really will be," cried Polly, enchanted at her success, "Jasper +and Ben and Clare; and they will give you a ride, and show you a cave, +oh! and perfect quantities of things; you can't think how many!" + +Phronsie clapped her hands and laughed aloud in glee. + +"Oh! I don't care if they are true dragons, Polly, I don't," she cried, +dreadfully excited. "Make 'em real big live ones, do; do make them big, +and let me ride on their backs." + +"These will be just as real," said Polly comfortingly, "that is, +they'll act real, only there will be boys inside of them. Oh! we'll +have them nice, dear, don't you fear." + +"But I'd really rather have true ones," sighed Phronsie. + + + + +III + +THE REHEARSAL + + +"Now, Phronsie," said Polly, on her knees before the Princess, who was +slowly evolving into "a thing of beauty," "do hold still just a minute, +dear. There," as she thrust in another pin, then turned her head +critically to view her work, "I do hope that is right." + +Phronsie sighed. "May I just stretch a wee little bit, Polly," she +asked timidly, "before you pin it up? Just a very little bit?" + +"To be sure you may," said Polly, looking into the flushed little face; +"I'll tell you, you may walk over to the window and back, once; that'll +rest you and give me a chance to see what is the matter with that back +drapery." + +So Phronsie, well pleased, gathered up the embyro robe of the Princess +and moved off, a bewildering tangle of silver spangles and floating +lace, drawn over the skirt of one of Mrs. Whitney's white satin gowns. + +"There ought to be a dash of royal purple somewhere," said Polly, +sitting on the floor to see her go, and resting her tired hands on her +knees. "Now where shall I get it, and where shall I put it when I do +have it?" She wrinkled up her eyebrows a moment, lost in thought over +the momentous problem. "Oh! I know," and she sprang up exultingly. +"Phronsie, won't this be perfectly lovely? we can take that piece of +tissue paper Auntie gave you, and I can cut out little knots and +sashes. It is so soft, that in the gaslight they will look like silk. +How fine!" + +"Can't I be a Princess unless you sew up that purple paper?" asked +Phronsie, pausing suddenly to look over her shoulder in dismay at Polly. + +"Why, yes, you can be, of course," said Polly, "but you can't be as +good a one as if you had a dash of royal purple about you. What's a bit +of tissue paper to the glory of being a Princess?" she cried, with +sparkling eyes. "Dear me, I wish I could be one." + +"Well, you may have it, Polly," said Phronsie with a sigh, "and then +afterwards I'll rip it all off and smooth it out, and it will be almost +as good as new." + +"I think there won't be much left of it when the play is over," cried +Polly with a laugh; "why, the dragons are going to carry you off to +their cave, you know, and you are to be rescued by the knight, just +think, Phronsie! You can't expect to have such perfectly delightful +times, and come out with a quantity of tissue paper all safe. Something +has to be scarified to royalty, child." + +Phronsie sighed again. But as Polly approved of royalty so highly, she +immediately lent herself to the anticipations of the pleasure before +her, smothering all lesser considerations. + +"When you get your little silver cap on with one of Auntie's diamond +rings sewed in it, why, you'll be too magnificent for anything," said +Polly, now pulling and patting with fresh enthusiasm, since the "purple +dash" was forthcoming. + +"Princesses don't wear silver caps with diamond rings sewed in them," +observed Phronsie wisely. + +"Of course not; they have diamonds by the bushel, and don't need to sew +rings in their caps to make them sparkle," said Polly, plaiting and +pinning rapidly, "but in dressing up for a play, we have to take a +poetic license. There, turn just one bit to the right, Phronsie dear." + +"What's poetic license?" demanded Phronsie, wrenching her imagination +off from the bushel of diamonds to seize practical information. + +"Oh! when a man writes verses and says things that aren't so," said +Polly, her mind on the many details before her. + +"But he ought not to," cried Phronsie, with wide eyes, "say things that +are not so. I thought poets were always very good, Polly." + +"Oh! well, people let him," said Polly, carelessly, "because he puts it +into poetry. It would never do in prose; that would be quite shocking." + +"Oh!" said Phronsie, finding the conversation some alleviation to the +fitting-on process. + +"Now this left side," said Polly, twisting her head to obtain a good +view of the point in question, "is just right; I couldn't do it any +better if I were to try a thousand times. Why won't this other one +behave, and fall into a pretty curve, I wonder?" + +Phronsie yawned softly as the brown eyes were safely behind her. + +"I shall gather it up anyway, so," and Polly crushed the refractory +folds recklessly in one hand; "that's the way Mary Gibbs's hat +trimmings look, and I'm sure they're a complete success. Oh! that's +lovely," cried Polly, at the effect. "Now, that's the treatment the +whole drapery needs," she added in the tone of an art connoisseur. "Oh!" + +A rushing noise announced the approach of two or three boys, together +with the barking of Prince, as they all ran down the wide hall. + +"O dear, dear!" exclaimed Polly, hurriedly pulling and pinning, "there +come the boys to rehearse. It can't be four o'clock," as the door +opened and three members of the cast entered. + +"It's quarter-past four," said Jasper, laughing and pulling out his +watch; "we gave you an extra fifteen minutes, as you had such a lot to +do. Dear me! but you are fine, Phronsie. I make my obeisance to +Princess Clotilde!" and he bowed low to the little silver and white +figure, as did the other two boys, and then drew off to witness the +final touches. + +"It's a most dreadful thing," cried Polly, pushing back the brown waves +from her brow, as she also fell off to their point of view, "to get up +a princess. I had no idea it was such a piece of work." + +"You have scored an immense success," said Jasper enthusiastically. +"Oh, Phronsie! you will make the hit of the season." + +"You'll think it is even much nicer when it is done," said Polly, +vastly relieved that Jasper had given such a kind verdict. "It's to +have a dash of royal purple on that right side, and in one of the +shoulder knots, and to catch up her train." + +"That will be very pretty, I don't doubt," said Jasper, trying to +resolve himself into the cold critic, "but it seems to me it is almost +perfect now, Polly." + +"Oh! thank you so much," she cried, with blooming cheeks. "How do you +like it, Clare and Bensie?" + +"I can't tell," said Ben, slowly regarding the Princess on all sides; +"it's so transforming." + +"It's tiptop!" cried Clare. "It out-princesses any princess I've ever +imagined." + +"Well, it's a perfect relief," said Polly, "to have you boys come in. +I've been working so over it that I was ready to say it was horrid. +It's too bad, isn't it, that Dick can't be here to-day to rehearse his +part?" + +"To be sure," exclaimed Jasper, looking around, "where is the +Princess's page?" + +"He's gone to the dentist's," said Polly, making a wry face. "Auntie +had to make the appointment for this afternoon, and we couldn't put off +the rehearsal; Clare can't come any other time, you know." + +Phronsie turned an anxious face to the window. "I hope he's not being +hurt very much," she said slowly. + +"I don't believe he is," Polly made haste to answer most cheerfully, +"it was only one tooth, you know, Phronsie, to be filled. Auntie says +Dr. Porter told her the rest are all right." + +But a cloud rested on the Princess's face. "One tooth is something," +she said. + +"Just think how nice it will be when it is all over, and Dick comes +scampering in," cried Jasper, with great hilarity. + +"Do climb up on the sofa, Phronsie," urged Polly, looking into the pale +little face, "you must sit down and rest a bit, you're so tired." + +"I will read the prologue while she rests," said Jasper. + +"So you can," said Polly. "Take care, child," in alarm, "you mustn't +curl up in the corner like that; princesses don't ever do so." + +"Don't they?" said Phronsie, flying off from the lovely corner, to +straighten out again into the dignity required; "not when they are +little girls, Polly?" + +"No, indeed," said Polly, with a rescuing hand among the silver +spangles and lace; "they must never forget that they are princesses, +Phronsie. There now, you're all right." + +"Oh!" said Phronsie, sitting quite stiffly, glad if she could not be +comfortable, she could be a princess. + +"'Gentle ladies and brave sirs,'" began Jasper in a loud, impressive +tone, from the temporary stage, the large rug in front of the crackling +hearth fire. + +Clare burst into a laugh. "See here now," cried Jasper, brandishing his +text at him, "if you embarrass me like that, you may leave, you old +dragon!" + +"You ought to see your face," cried Clare. "Jap, you are anything but a +hit." + +"You'll be yet," declared Jasper with a pretended growl, and another +flourish of the manuscript. + +"Go on, do," implored Polly, "I think it is lovely. Clare, you really +ought to be ashamed," and she shook her brown head severely at him. + +"If I don't quench such melodrama in the outset," said Clare, "he'll +ruin us all. Fair ladies and brave sirs," mimicking to perfection +Jasper's tones. + +"Thank you for a hint," cried Jasper, pulling out his pencil. "I didn't +say 'fair'; that's better than 'gentle.' I wish critics would always be +so useful as to give one good idea. Heigho! here goes again: + + "'Fair ladies and brave sirs, + The player's art is to amuse, + Instruct, or to confuse + By too much good advice, + But poorly given: + That no one follows, because, forsooth, + 'Tis thrown at him, neck and heels. + The drama, pure and simple, is forgot + In tugging in the moral'"? + +"I thought you were going to alter 'tugging in' to something more +elegant," said Polly. + +"Lugging in," suggested Clare, with another laugh. + +"Morals are always tugged in by the head and shoulders," said Jasper. +"Why not say so?" + +"We should have pretty much the whole anatomy of the human form divine, +if you had your way," cried Clare. "Listen! + +"'Because, forsooth, 'tis thrown at him, neck and heels' and 'Tugging +in the moral, head and shoulders.' Now just add 'by the pricking of my +thumbs,' etc., and you have them all." + +Jasper joined as well as Polly and Ben in the laugh at the prologue's +expense, but Phronsie sat erect winking hard, her royal hands folded +quite still in her lap. + +"You're bound for a newspaper office, my boy," said Jasper at length. +"How you will cut into the coming poet, and maul the fledgling of the +prose writer! Well, I stand corrected. + + "'The drama pure and simple, + Is forgot, in straining at the moral.'" + "Is that any better?" (To the audience.) + +"Yes, I think it is," said Polly, "but I do believe it's time to talk +more elegantly, Jasper. It is due to the people in the private boxes, +you know." + +"Oh! the boxes are to have things all right before the play is over; +never you fear, Polly," said Jasper. + + "'A poor presentment, + You will say we give; + But cry you mercy, Sirs, and'"? + +"I don't like 'cry you mercy,'" announced Ben slowly, "because it +doesn't seem to mean anything." + +"Oh! don't cut that out," exclaimed Polly, clasping her hands and +rushing up to Ben. "That's my pet phrase; you mustn't touch that, +Bensie." + +"But it doesn't mean anything," reiterated Ben in a puzzled way. + +"Who cares?" cried Jasper defiantly. "A great many expressions that +haven't the least significance are put in a thing of this sort. +Padding, you know, my dear sir." + +"Oh!" said Ben literally, "I didn't know as you needed padding. All +right, if it is necessary." "It's antique, and perfectly lovely, and +just like Shakespeare," cried Polly, viewing Ben in alarm. + +"Oh! let the Bard of Avon have one say in this production," cried +Clare. "Go on, do, with your 'cry you mercy.' What's next, Jap?" + +"Are you willing, Ben?" asked Jasper, with a glance at Polly. + +"Ye--es," said Ben, also gazing at the rosy face and anxious eyes, "it +can go as padding, I suppose." + +"Oh! I am so glad," exclaimed Polly in glee, and dancing around the +room. "And you won't be sorry, I know, Bensie; the audience will +applaud that very thing I'm almost sure," which made Jasper sternly +resolve something on the spot. + +"Well, I shall never be through at this rate," he said, whirling over +the manuscript to find his place. "Oh! here I am: + + "'But cry you mercy, Sirs and ladies fair, + We aim but to be dragons, + Not mortals posing for effect. + We have a princess, to be sure'"? + +"I should think we have," interrupted Clare with a glance over at the +sofa. "Goodness me, she's fast asleep!" + +"Poor little thing, she is tired to death," cried Polly remorsefully, +while they all rushed over to the heap of lace and spangles, blissfully +oblivious of "prologues." + +"Do let her sleep through this piece of stupidity," said Jasper, +bundling up another satin skirt that Mrs. Whitney had loaned for Polly +to make a choice from. "There," putting it under the yellow head, +"we'll call her when the dragons come on." + +"Take care," cried Polly, with intercepting hand, "that's Auntie's +lovely satin gown." + +"Beg pardon," said Jasper, relinquishing it speedily. "Here's the sofa +pillow, after all," dragging it from its temporary retirement under the +theatrical debris. "Now let's get back to work; time is going fast." In +a lowered voice: + + "'We have a princess, to be sure, + A sweet and gracious Clotilde, + And a knight who does her homage, + But the rest of us + Are fishy, scaly, + Horny and altogether horrid, + And of very low degree + Who scarce know why we are upon the boards, + Except for your amusement, + So prithee'"? + +"Hold!" cried Clare, "what stuff." + +"Give me an inch of time," cried Jasper, hurrying on, "and I'll end the +misery: + + "'So prithee, be amused; + We're undone, if you are not, + And all our labor lost. + Pray laugh, and shake your sides, + And say "'tis good; + I' faith, 'tis very good." + And we shall say + "Your intellects do you credit." + And so we bid you a fond adieu, + And haste away to unshackle the dragons, + Who even now do roar without.'" + +Clare threw himself into the part of the dragons, and forgetful of +Phronsie, gave a loud roar. Polly clapped her hands and tossed an +imaginary bouquet as Jasper bowed himself off. + +"Hush!" said Ben, "you'll wake up Phronsie," but it was too late; there +she sat rubbing her eyes in astonishment. + +"Oh! you darling," cried Polly, running over to her, to clasp her in +her arms, "I'm so sorry I tired you all out, Phronsie dear, do forgive +me." + +"I'm not tired," said Phronsie, with dewy eyes. "Has Jasper got through +reading? What was it all about, Polly?" + +"Indeed and I have finished," he cried with a yawn and throwing the +manuscript on the table, "and I don't know in the least what it is all +about, Phronsie." + +"Just a lot of dreadful words," said Clare over in the corner, pulling +at a heap of costumes on the floor. "Never mind; the horrible spell is +broken; come on, you fellows, and tumble into your dragon skins!" + +With that the chief dragon deserted Phronsie, and presently there +resounded the rattle of the scales, the clanking of chains, and the +dragging about of the rest of their paraphernalia. + +"Now, Phronsie," said Jasper, coming back, half-within his dragon skin +and gesticulating, "you see that it's only I in this thing. Look, dear! +here goes in my head," and he pulled on the scaly covering, observing +great care to smile reassuringly the last thing before his countenance +was obscured. + +Phronsie screamed with delight and clapped her hands. "Oh, Jasper! let +me have one on, do, Jasper! I'd much rather be a dragon than a +princess. Really and truly I would, Jasper." + +"I don't agree with you," said Jasper, in a muffled voice. "Phew! this +is no end stuffy, fellows. I can't stand it long." + +"I'm all coming to pieces," said Ben, turning around to regard his back +where the scales yawned fearfully. + +"I'll run and ask Mamsie to come and sew you up," cried Polly, flying +off. "She said she would help, if we wanted her." + + + + +IV + +WELCOME HOME! + + +"Marian," said old Mr. King, putting his head in at the door of her +little writing-room, "can't you get her comfortably out of the way this +morning? I want your services without interruption." + +"She's going down to Pinaud's," said Mrs. Whitney, looking up from the +note she was writing. + +"Capital! when she once gets there, she'll stay the morning," declared +Mr. King, greatly pleased. "Now, then, after she's cleverly off, you +may come to me." + +"I will, father," said Marian, going back with a smile to her +correspondence. + +Half an hour later Thomas, with the aid of the horses and the shopping +coupe having carried off Mrs. Chatterton, Mrs. Whitney pushed aside her +notes, and ran down to her father's study. + +She found him in his velvet morning-gown seated before his table, busy +with a good-sized list of names that was rapidly growing longer under +his pen. + +"Oh! I forgot," he said, looking up; "I intended to tell you to bring +some of your cards and envelopes. I want some invitations written." + +"Are you going to give a dinner?" asked Marian, looking over his +shoulder. "Oh, no! I see by the length of your list it's an evening +affair, or a musicale." + +"You run along, daughter," said the old gentleman, "and get what I tell +you. This is my affair; it's a musicale and something else combined. I +don't just know myself." And he laughed at the sight of her face. + +"If father is only pleased, I don't care what it is," said Mrs. Whitney +to herself, hurrying over the stairs and back again, never once +thinking of Polly's and Jasper's surprise for the boys. + +"You see, Marian," said Mr. King as she sat down by the table, and laid +the cards and envelopes in front of him, "that I'm going to help out +that affair that Jasper and Polly are getting up." + +"Oh, father! how good of you!" exclaimed Mrs. Whitney in a delighted +tone, which immensely pleased the old gentleman, to begin with. + +"They've been working very hard, those two, at their studies this +autumn. I've seen them," cried Mr. King with a shrewd air, "and I'm +going now to give them a little pleasure." + +Marian said nothing, but let him have the comfort of doing all the +talking, which he now enjoyed to his heart's content. + +"Whether the other chaps have done well, I don't know. Davie may have +kept at it, but I suspect the rest of the boys haven't killed +themselves with hard study. But they shall have a good home-coming, at +any rate." + +Mrs. Whitney smiled, and he proceeded: + +"Now I'm going to send out these invitations"--he pushed the list +toward her--"I shall have the drawing-room and music-room floors +covered, and all extra seats arranged, give Turner carte blanche as to +flowers, if he can't furnish enough out of our own conservatories--and +the evening will end with a handsome 'spread,' as Jasper calls it. In +short, I shall recognize their attempt to make it pleasant for the +boys' holiday, by helping them out on the affair all I can." The old +gentleman now leaned back in his big chair and studied his daughter's +face. + +"And you'll never regret it, father," she cried, with an enthusiasm +that satisfied him, "for these young people will all repay you a +thousand-fold, I do believe, in the time to come." + +"Don't I know it?" cried Mr. King, getting out of his chair hastily to +pace the floor. "Goodness me! they repay me already. They're fine young +things, every one of them--Whitneys, Peppers and my boy--as fine as +they are made. And whoever says they're not, doesn't know a good piece +of work when it's before his eyes. Bless me!" pulling out his +handkerchief to mop his face violently, "I don't want to see any finer." + +"I hope I shall have a sight of Jasper's and Polly's faces when you +tell them what you intend to do," said Mrs. Whitney; "where are your +cards, father?" + +"Tell them? I shan't tell them at all," cried the old gentleman; "I'm +going to have a surprise, too. No one must know it but you and Mrs. +Pepper." + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Whitney. "It was very stupid in me not to understand +that. It will be all right, father; Mrs. Pepper and I will keep our +secret, you needn't fear." + +"If you can only keep HER out of the way," exclaimed Mr. King, pointing +irascibly in the direction of Mrs. Chatterton's apartments, "all will +be well. But I doubt if you can; her meddlesome ears and tongue will be +at work as usual," he added in extreme vexation. + +"Here comes Jasper," exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, which had the satisfactory +result of bringing her father out of his irritation, into a flutter +over the concealment of the party preparations. + +"Jasper," cried Polly that evening, as they ran into the music-room to +play a duet, "we're all right about everything now, as your father says +we may invite the girls and your friends." + +"And he said when I asked him if we ought not to have cake and coffee, +'I'll attend to that,'" said Jasper, "so everything is all straight as +far as I can see, Polly." + +"The private boxes trouble me, I must confess," said Polly, drumming +absently on the keys, while Jasper spread the sheet of music on the +rack. "You know there must be two; one for dear Mr. King and one for +the boys as guests of honor. Now how shall we manage them?" + +She took her hand off suddenly from the keys and folded it over its +fellow on her knee, to study his face anxiously. + +"It's pretty hard to get them up, that's a fact," said Jasper +truthfully, "but then, you know, Polly, we've always found that when a +thing had to be done, it was done. You know the little brown house +taught us that." + +"So it did," said Polly, brightening up. "Dear little old brown house, +how could I ever forget it! Well, I suppose," with a sigh, "it will +come to us as an inspiration when it's time to fix them." + +"I suppose so too," said Mrs. Pepper, passing the door, as usual with +her mending basket, "and when two people start to play a duet, I think +they much better put their minds on that, and not waste precious time +on all sorts of questions that will take care of themselves when the +time comes." + +"You are right, Mrs. Pepper," cried Jasper with a laugh, and seating +himself before the piano. "Come, Polly!" + +"Mamsie is always right, isn't she, Jasper?" cried Polly with pride, +putting her hands down for the first chords. + +"Indeed she is," responded the boy heartily. "Here now, Polly, +remember, you slipped up a bit on that first bar. Now!" + +The twenty-first of December came all too soon for Polly and Jasper, +whose school duties had engrossed them till two days before, but after +hard work getting up the stage properties, and the many rehearsals, +everything was at last pronounced ready, the drawing-room and +music-room locked, the keys given to Mrs. Whitney who promised +faithfully to see that no one peeped in who should not, and Polly +hurried into her hat and jacket, to go to the station with Jasper to +meet the boys. + +Thomas drove furiously, as they were a bit late, and they arrived only +a minute before the train puffed in. + +"Here they are!" cried Polly, and "Here they are!" cried Jasper, +together, in great excitement, on the platform. + +"Halloo, Polly!" cried Joel, prancing out of the car first, and "How +d'ye do, Polly?" as they all hurried after. "Halloo, Jasper!" + +"Oh, Polly! it's good to see you!" This from Davie, not ashamed to set +a kiss on her red lips. + +Van and Percy looked as if they wanted to, but contented themselves +with wringing her hand nearly off, while Joel declared he would look +after the luggage. + +"No, I will," cried Van, dropping Polly's hand. + +"You forget," said Percy quietly, "I hold the checks, I'll attend to it +myself." He unclosed his brown traveling glove, and Van, at sight of +them, turned back. + +"Go along, do, then," he cried; "I don't want to, I'm sure; I'd much +rather stay with Polly. How d'ye do, Thomas?" he called carelessly to +the coachman on his box, who was continually touching his hat and +indulging in broad smiles of content. + +Polly was tiptoeing in very delight, holding Davie's hand closely while +her eyes roved from one to the other of the boys, and her tongue ran +fast indeed. A group of girls, who had also come down to the station to +meet friends, stopped a bit as they came laughing and chatting by. + +"How d'ye, boys?" they said carelessly to the three home-comers. "Oh, +Polly! won't it be entrancing to-night?" cried one of them, seizing her +arm as she spoke. + +"Hush!" said Polly, as she tried to stop her. + +"May I bring Elsie Fay? she's come on the train to stay over Christmas +with her aunt. May I, Polly?" begged another girl eagerly. + +"Yes, yes," said Polly in a paroxysm of fear lest Joel, who was +crowding up between them, should catch a word; "do be still," she +whispered. "Bring anybody; only stop, Alexia." + +"He won't hear," said Alexia carelessly; "that boy doesn't mind our +talking; his head's full of skating and coasting." + +"You're going to have something to-night that you don't want me to know +about," declared Joel, his chubby face set defiantly, and crowding +closer; "so there; now I'm going to find out what it is." + +"If we don't want you to know, you ought not to try to find out, Joel +Pepper," cried Alexia. "And you shan't, either." + +"There, now you see," cried Polly, unable to keep still, while her face +grew red too. "O dear! what shall we do?" + +"You are--you are," cried Joel, capering up and down the platform, his +black eyes shining with delight. "Now I know for certain, and it's at +our house, too, for you asked Polly if you might bring some other girl, +Elsie somebody or other, so! Oh! I'll soon know." + +"Joel," exclaimed Jasper suddenly, clapping him on the shoulder, "I'm +going round to the gymnasium; want to go with me?" + +Joel stopped his capering at once, this new idea thrusting out the old +one. + +"Don't I, though!" he cried, with a nod at Polly and her friends. "But +I'll find out when I do get home," the nod declared plainly. + +But Jasper also nodded. He said, "He won't get home till late; depend +on me." And then "Come on, Joe," he cried; "I'm going to walk," and +they were off. + +Alexia pinched Polly's gray woolen jacket sleeve convulsively. "What an +escape," she breathed. + +"Here comes Percy," cried Polly nervously, and she broke away from her +and the other girls, and ran to meet him, and the two boys following. + +"Where's Jasper?" asked Percy, rendered quite important in air and +step, from his encounter with the baggage officials. + +"Oh! he isn't going home with us," said Polly. "Come, do let us get +in," and she scampered off to the carriage and climbed within. + +"That's funny," said Percy, jumping in after. + +Van opened his lips to tell where Jasper had gone, but remembering +Percy's delight in such an expedition, he closed them quickly, and +added himself to the company in the carriage. Davie followed, and +closed the door quickly. + +"Stop! where's Joel?" asked Percy. "Thomas, we've forgotten Joe," +rapping on the glass to the coachman. + +"No, we haven't; he isn't going to drive," said Polly. + +"Oh!" and Percy, thinking that Joel had stolen a march on them on his +good strong legs, now cried lustily, "Go on, Thomas; get ahead as fast +as you can," and presently he was lost in the babel of laughter and +chatter going on in the coach. + +"I've a piece of news," presently cried Van in a lull. "Davie's +bringing home a prize; first in classics, you know." + +"Oh, Davie!" screamed Polly, and she leaned over to throw her arms +around him; "Mamsie will be so glad. Davie, you can't think how glad +she'll be!" + +Davie's brown cheek glowed. "It isn't much," he said simply, "there +were so many prizes given out." + +"Well, you've taken one," cried Polly, saying the blissful over and +over. "How perfectly elegant!" + +Van drummed on the carriage window discontentedly. "I could have taken +one if I'd had the mind to." + +"Hoh-oh!" shouted Percy over in his corner. "Well, you didn't have the +mind; that's what was wanting." + +"You keep still," cried Van, flaming up, and whirling away from his +window. "You didn't take any, either. Polly, his head was under water +all the time, unless some of the boys tugged him along every day. We +hardly got him home at all." + +"No such thing," contradicted Percy flatly, his face growing red. +"Polly, he tells perfectly awful yarns. You mustn't believe him, Polly, +You won't, will you?" He leaned over appealingly toward her. + +"Oh! don't, don't," cried Polly, quite dismayed, "talk so to each +other." + +"Well, he's so hateful," cried Van, "and the airs he gives himself! I +can't stand them, Polly, you know"-- + +"And he's just as mean," cried Percy vindictively. "Oh! you can't +think, Polly. Here we are," as Thomas gave a grand flourish through the +stone gateway, and up to the steps. + +"I'll help you out," and he sprang out first. + +"No, I will," declared Van, opening the door on the other side, jumping +out and running around the carriage. "Here, Polly, take my hand, do." + +"No, I got here first," said Percy eagerly, his brown glove extended +quite beyond Van's hand. + +"I don't want any one to help me, who speaks so to his brother," said +Polly in a low voice, and with her most superb air stepping down alone, +she ran up the steps to leave them staring in each other's faces. + +Here everybody came hurrying out to the porch, and they were soon drawn +into the warm loving welcome awaiting them. + +"Oh, Felicie! I don't want that dress," said Polly as she ran into her +room after dinner, to Mrs. Whitney's French maid, "I'm going to wear my +brown cashmere." + +"Oh, Mademoiselle!" remonstrated Felicie, adjusting the ruffle in the +neck of the white nun's veiling over her arm. + +"Oh, no, Polly! I wouldn't," began Mrs. Pepper, coming in, "the white +one is better for to-night." + +"Mamsie!" cried Polly, breaking away from the mirror where she was +pulling into place the bright brown waves over her forehead, "how +lovely! you've put on your black silk; and your hair is just beautiful!" + +"Madame has ze fine hair," said Felicie, "only I wish zee would gif it +to me to prepaire." + +"Yes, I have good hair," said Mrs. Pepper, "and I'm thankful for it. No +one looks dressed up, in my opinion, with a ragged head. The finer the +gown, the worse it makes careless hair look. No, Polly, I wouldn't wear +the brown dress to-night." + +"Why, Mamsie!" exclaimed Polly in surprise, "I thought you'd say it was +just the thing when only the girls and Jappy's friends are coming to +the play. Besides, I don't want to look too dressed up; the Princess +ought to be the only one in a white gown." + +"You won't be too conspicuous," said her mother; adding slowly, "you +might wear the nun's veiling well enough as you haven't any part in the +play, Polly," and she scanned the rosy face keenly. + +"I don't want any part," cried Polly; "they all play better than I do. +Somebody must see that everything goes off well behind the scenes; +that's my place, Mamsie. Besides, you forget I am to play my sonata." + +"I don't forget," said her mother; "all the more reason you should wear +the white gown, then." + +"All right," cried Polly, merrily dashing across the room to Felicie, +"put it over my head, do. Well, I'm glad you think it is right to wear +it, Mamsie," as the soft folds fell around her. "I just love this +dress. Oh, Auntie! how perfectly exquisite!" + +Mrs. Whitney came in smilingly and put a kiss on the tall girl's cheek. +"Do I look nicely?" she asked naively, turning around under the +chandelier. + +"Nicely?" exclaimed Polly, lifting her hands, "why you are fresh from +fairyland. You are so good to put on that lovely blue moire and your +diamond cross, just for the boys and girls." + +"I am glad you like it," said Mrs. Whitney hastily. "Now, Polly, don't +you worry about anything; I'll see that the last things are done." + +"Well, I am worrying," confessed Polly, quite in a tremble; "I must see +to one corner of the private box for the boys. You know the last India +shawl you lent me wasn't pinned up straight and I couldn't fix it, for +Van wanted me just then, and I couldn't get away without his suspecting +something. Oh, Auntie! if you would see to that." + +"I will," said Mrs. Whitney, not daring to look at Mrs. Pepper, "and to +all the other things; don't give a thought to them, Polly." + +"How good you are," cried Polly with a sigh of relief. "Oh, Auntie! we +couldn't do anything without you." + +"And you don't need to go into the drawing-room at all," said Mrs. +Whitney, going to the door. "Just keep behind the scenes, and get your +actors and Phronsie ready, and your mother and I will receive your +friends. Come, Mrs. Pepper." + +"That is splendid," cried Polly, left behind with the maid, "now I can +get ready without flying into a flurry, Felicie; and then for Phronsie +and the rest!" + +"There is a dreadful commotion in there among the audience," said +Jasper, out in the green room; "I imagine every one who had an +'invite,' has come. But I don't see how they can make such a noise." + +"Oh! a few girls and boys make just about as much confusion as a good +many," observed Polly. "Jasper, wouldn't you like to see Joel's eyes +when Aunt Whitney leads him into the private box?" she allowed herself +time to exclaim. "Yes," laughed Jasper, pulling out his watch from +beneath his dragon-skin; "well, we have only five minutes more, Polly. +We must have the curtain up sharp." + +"O dear, dear!" cried Polly, flying here and there to bestow last +touches on the different members of her cast. "Now, Clare, you must +remember not to give such a shriek when you go on, mustn't he, Jappy? +Just a dull, sullen roar, your part is." + +"Well, I'm nearly dead under here," cried Clare, glaring beneath his +dragon face. "I'll shriek, or roar, just as I like, so!" + +"Very well," said Polly, "I don't know but it's as well, after all, +that you are cross; you'll be more effective," she added coolly. "Let +me see--oh! the door of the cave wants a bit more of gray moss; it +looks thin where it hangs over. You get it, will you, Hannah?" to one +of the maids who was helping. + +"And just one thing more," scanning hastily the stage setting, "another +Chinese lantern is needed right here," going toward the front of the +stage, "and that green bush is tumbling over; do set it straight, +somebody; there now, I believe everything is all ready. Now let us peep +out of the curtain, and get one good look at the audience. Come, +Phronsie, here's a fine place; come, boys!" + +The different members of the cast now applied their eyes to as many +cracks in the curtain as could be hastily managed. + +There was a breathing space. + +"What, what?" cried Polly, gazing into the sea of faces, and the +dragons nearly knocked the Princess over as Mr. King gave the signal +for the band stationed in the wide hall, to send out their merriest +strains. + + + + +V + +AFTER THE PLAY + + +It was all over. Phronsie had been swept off, a vision of loveliness, +to the cave; the dragons had roared their loudest, and the gallant +knight had covered himself with glory in the brilliant rescue of the +Princess; the little page had won the hearts of all the ladies; Mr. +King had applauded himself hoarse, especially during the delivery of +the prologue, when "I cry you mercy, sirs, and ladies fair," rang out; +the musical efforts of Polly and Jasper in the "Wait" between the two +acts were over, and the crowded house, in every way possible, had +expressed itself delighted with all things from beginning to end. + +"Phronsie, Phronsie, they're calling you," whispered Polly excitedly, +out in the green room. + +"Come, Princess." The head dragon held out his hand. "Hurry dear! See +the flowers!" + +"They can't be for me," said Phronsie, standing quite still; "Polly has +done all the work; they're hers." + +"Nonsense, child!" cried Polly, giving her a gentle push forward. "Go +on, and take them." + +"Polly, you come too," begged Phronsie, refusing to stir, and holding +her by the gown. + +"I can't, Phronsie," cried Polly in distress; "don't you see they +haven't called me. Go on, child, if you love me," she implored. + +Phronsie, not being able to resist this, dropped Polly's gown and +floated before the footlights. + +"Thank you," she said, bowing gravely to the sea of faces, as her hands +were filled with roses, "but I shall give these to Polly, because we +couldn't any of us have done it without her." And so she brought them +back to put into dismayed Polly's lap. + +"The authors--the authors of the play!" cried a strong voice, privately +urged on by Mr. King. + +"There, now's your turn," cried Clare to Polly. "And go ahead, old +dragon," to Jasper, "make your prettiest bow." + +So the chief dragon led up blushing Polly to the front of the stage, to +hear a neat little speech from Mr. Alstyne, thanking them for the +pleasure of the evening and congratulating them on its success; and the +band played again, the camp chairs were folded up and removed, the +green-room and stage were deserted, and actors and audience mingled in +a gay, confusing throng. + +Phronsie, in her little silver and white gown and gleaming cap, began +to wander among the guests, unconscious that she had not on the red +cashmere dress she had worn all day. Groups stopped their conversation +to take her into their midst, passing her on at last as one might hand +over a precious parcel to the next waiting hands. Polly, seeing that +she was well cared for, gave herself up to the enjoyment of the evening. + +"Well, sir, how did you like it?" asked Jasper, with a small pat on +Joel's back. + +"Well enough," said Joel, "but why didn't you make more of it? You +could have crawled up on top of the cave, and slashed around there; and +you old dragons were just three muffs in the last act. I'd rather have +had Polly in the play; she's twice the go in her. + +"So would we all have preferred Polly," cried Jasper, bursting into a +laugh, "but she wouldn't act--she directed everything; she was all the +play, in fact." + +Polly meanwhile was saying to Pickering Dodge, "No, not to-night; you +must dance with one of the other girls." + +"But I don't choose to dance with anybody but you," said Pickering, +holding out his hand. "Come, Polly, you can't refuse; they're forming +the Lancers. Hurry!" + +Polly's feet twitched nervously under her white gown, and she longed +more than ever after the excitement she had passed through, to lose +herself in the witching music, and the mazy dance. She hesitated a bit, +but just then glancing across the room, "Come," she said, "I want you +to dance with Ray Simmons. You can't refuse," using his own words; and +before he was conscious how it was done, he was by Ray's side, and +asking for the pleasure of the dance. + +Polly stood quite still and saw them go away and take the last places +in the set, and a sorry little droop fell upon the curves of the +laughing mouth. She was very tired, and the elation that had possessed +her over the success of the evening was fast dropping out, now that +everybody was enjoying themselves in their own way, leaving her alone. +She felt left out in the cold; and though she fought against it, a +faint feeling of regret stole over her for what she had done. She +almost wished she was standing there by the side of Pickering Dodge, +one of the bright group on whom the eyes of the older people were all +turned, as they waited for the first figure to begin. + +"Well, Polly"--it was Mr. Alstyne who spoke, and he acted as if he had +come to stay by her side--"you've covered yourself with glory this +evening." + +"Have I, sir?" asked Polly absently, wishing there had been less of the +glory, and a little more fun. + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Alstyne, his keen eyes searching her face. +"Well, now, Polly, your dragons, although not exactly like any living +ones extant, made me think of some I saw at the Zoo, in London. Do you +want me to tell you how?" + +"Oh! if you please," cried Polly, her color coming back, and beginning +to forget the dance and the dancers. + +"Let us sit down here, then," said Mr. Alstyne, drawing her off to two +chairs in a corner, "and you shall have the tale. No pun, Polly, you +know." And he plunged into it at once. + +"Yes, Alstyne has her all right," Mr. King was saying at the further +end of the drawing-room to Mrs. Pepper; he spied the whole thing; +"he'll take care of her, you may depend." + +And two more people had seen; one was Jasper. Nevertheless his partner, +Alexia Rhys, thought it necessary to enlighten him. + +"Just think, Polly's given up her chance with the best dancer in the +room, and sent Pickering Dodge off with that horrid Ray Simmons." + +Jasper pretended not to hear. "This is our figure," he said hastily, +and they whirled off, finished it, and were back again. + +"Isn't she a goose?" as he fanned her, and tried to introduce another +subject. + +"I suppose she best pleases herself," said the boy indifferently. "Why +should any one else interfere in the matter?" + +"But some one else ought to interfere," cried Alexia, with a little +pout, provoked at his indifference; "that's just the way she does in +school all the time. Oh! I'm vexed at her, I can tell you. She's so +silly--dear me, it's our turn again." + +By the next interim she had forgotten all about Polly and whether she +was having a nice time or the stupidest one imaginable, for Joel, who +held dancing in great contempt, sauntered up. + +"Aren't you glad now that you didn't find out about the secret?" cried +Alexia radiantly. "Oh! you are such a nuisance, Joey," she added +frankly. + +"Phooh!" exclaimed Joel, "it wasn't worth finding out, that old secret. +But it's as good as girls ever get up," he finished with a supercilious +air. + +"It was a perfectly splendid play!" cried Alexia, "and much too good +for a lot of boys. Goodness, Joey, I wouldn't celebrate if you four +were coming home from school to our house. I'd have the jollification +the night before you went back." + +"I wouldn't go home if 'twas to your house," declared Joel with equal +candor. "I'd run off to sea, first." + +"Come, come, you two, stop sparring," cried Jasper, holding out his +hand; "its our turn again, Alexia. Joel, take yourself off." + +Alexia flashing Joel a bright, making-up smile, dashed off into the +figure. + +"Good-by," said Joel with a smile as cheery, for he really liked her +the best of all Polly's girl friends. + +After the dance, supper was announced, and everybody marched out to the +supper room; the dancers with their partners following. + +"Will you allow me?" Mr. Alstyne seeing the movement, got out of his +chair and offered his arm to Polly with a courtly bow. + +"Oh! don't think of me, sir," she began, blushing very hard. "Joel will +look out for me." + +"I much prefer waiting upon Miss Polly Pepper to any other lady in the +room," said Mr. Alstyne, with another bow, courtlier than the first, +"since Mrs. Alstyne is provided for. See, Polly, Mr. King is taking her +out. And your mother has her cavalier, in Mr. Cabot; and Mrs. Whitney +has already gone out with Mr. Fairfax. So if you don't accept my +services, I shall be entirely left out in the cold." He stood offering +his arm, and Polly, laughing merrily, put her hand within it. + +"It's very good of you, sir," she said simply, as they fell into step +and joined the procession. + +"I'm afraid if you had trusted to Joel's tender mercies, you would have +fared hardly," said Mr. Alstyne, laughing. "Look, Polly, over yonder in +the corner." They were just passing into the supper room, and now +caught sight of Joel chatting away to a very pretty little creature, in +blue and white, as busily and unconcernedly as if he had done that sort +of thing for years. + +"Why!" cried Polly quite aghast, "that can't be Joel. He just hates +girls, you know, Mr. Alstyne, and never goes to parties." + +"He seems to be able to endure it all very well to-night," said her +companion dryly. "Shall I get you an ice, Miss Polly?" + +"Yes, thank you," said Polly absently, not being able to take her eyes +from Joel and his friend. At last, by the force of attraction, he +turned and looked at her. But instead of showing self-consciousness, +his round eyes surveyed her coolly, while he went on talking and +laughing with the little blue-and-white thing. + +"Polly, Polly," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, hurrying up, while Jasper was +storming the supper table for her, "do look at Joel Pepper! He actually +brought in a girl to supper!" + +"I see," said Polly, gazing at the two in a fascinated way. + +"On the other hand," said Alexia, sending swift, bird-like glances +around the supper room, "there are Van and Percy moping off by +themselves as if they hadn't a friend in the world. What a pity; they +used to be so lively at parties." + +Polly wrenched her gaze away from the astonishing sight on which it had +been fixed, and following Alexia's glance, took a keen look over at the +young Whitneys. "Oh! oh! I must go to them," she cried remorsefully. +"Tell Mr. Alstyne, please, when he comes back, where I am," and without +another word she dashed back of some gaily dressed ladies just entering +the supper room, and was out of the door. + +"If I ever did!" cried Alexia irritably to herself, "see anything so +queer! Now she thinks she must race after those boys. I wish I'd kept +still. Jasper, she's just as funny as ever," as he came up with a plate +of salad, and some oysters. "Who?" said the boy; "is this right, +Alexia?" offering the plate. + +"Why, Polly," said Alexia; "yes, that's lovely," with a comforted +glance at the plate and its contents. "Oh! she's gone off, Mr. +Alstyne," to that gentleman, approaching with Polly's ice. "You can't +expect her to stay for the goodies," beginning to nibble at her own. + +"Where is she?" cried Mr. Alstyne, laughing, and sweeping the room with +his brown eyes. "Oh! I see," his glance lighting on the Whitney boys' +corner. + +"Yes, she told me to tell you," said Alexia, between her mouthfuls of +salad and oyster, "where she is," as he started. + +"Oh, Percy and Van!" Polly was whispering hurriedly, "I'm sorry I hurt +your feelings, only it was so very dreadful, you know, to hear you go +on so to each other." + +"We didn't mean anything," said Percy, pushing one foot back and forth +in an embarrassed way, and looking as if he did not know what to do +with his hands, which confused him more than anything else, as he had +been quite sure of them on all previous occasions. + +Van thrust his into his pockets, and seemed on the point of whistling, +but remembering where he was, took his lips speedily out of their +curves, and looked the other way. + +Just then Mr. Alstyne came up. + +"Oh!" cried Polly suddenly, the color rushing over her face. "Could +you, Mr. Alstyne, give that to some one else? Percy and Van are going +to wait upon me." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Alstyne in a flash, "nothing easier;" and he +disappeared as suddenly as he came. + +"Now, boys," said Polly, turning back to them and whispering busily, "I +know you won't ever say such perfectly dreadful things to each other +again. And so I'm going to ask you both to get me something to eat, +will you?" + +"How do you know we won't?" cried Percy slowly. He was sorry enough for +the episode in the coach, yet couldn't resist the temptation to show he +was not to be driven. + +"Because I shall then have nothing whatever to eat," said Polly +merrily, "for of course I can't take a bit from anybody else after +refusing Mr. Alstyne's kindness. Don't you see? Oh, Percy! you wouldn't +quite do that?" + +Van laughed. "She's got us, Percy," he said, "quite fast. You know you +won't fight, and I won't again; we both said so a little while back; so +what's the good of holding out now?" + +Percy drew himself up very slowly and decidedly. "I won't trouble you +so again, Polly," holding out his hand. "Now would you like oysters?" +all in the same breath. + +"And here's mine," cried Van, extending his brown one. "Can't I bring +you some salad?" + +"Yes, yes," cried Polly gaily, and she released their hands after a +cordial grasp. "You may bring me everything straight through, boys," as +they rushed off, heads erect, to the crowded supper-table. + +"You've had a good time?" asked Mrs. Pepper slowly, with a keen glance +into the flushed face and sparkling eyes, as they turned up the gas in +Polly's bedroom. "Dear me! it is half-past eleven." + +"Splendid," said Polly, shaking herself free from the white gown and +beginning to braid her hair for the night. "Percy and Van were +perfectly lovely, and Mr. Alstyne was so good to me. And oh! Mamsie, +isn't dear Mr. King just the dearest dear, to give all this to the +boys? We haven't thanked him half enough." + +"He is indeed," said Mrs. Pepper heartily. "Why, where is Phronsie?" +looking around the room. + +"She was right back of you," said Polly. "She wanted to take off her +things herself. Did you ever see such a sweet"--she began, but Mrs. +Pepper did not stop to hear, hurrying out to the adjoining room, shared +by the mother and her baby. + +"She isn't here," Polly heard her say in bewildered tones. So Polly, +her long hair blown about her face, ran in, brush in hand. + +"Why, where"--she began laughingly. + +"She wouldn't go downstairs, I don't think," said Mrs. Pepper, peering +in all the corners, and even meditating a look under the bed. + +"No, no," cried Polly, "the lights are all turned out," investigating +all possible and impossible nooks that a mouse could creep into. "Where +can she be? Phronsie--Phronsie!" + +"Well, of course she is downstairs," declared Mrs. Pepper at last, +hurrying out of the room. + +"Take a candle, Mamsie, you'll fall," cried Polly, and throwing on her +bath wrapper, she seized the light from the mantel and hurried after +her. + +Half-way down she could hear Phronsie's gay little laugh, and catch the +words "Good-night, my dear Grandpapa," and then she came slowly out +from Mr. King's sitting-room, and softly closed the door. + +"Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, sitting down on the middle of the stairs, +the candle shaking ominously, "how could"-- + +"Hush!" said Mrs. Pepper, who had fumbled her way along the hall. +"Don't say anything. Oh, Phronsie dear, so you went down to bid +Grandpapa good-night, did you?" + +Phronsie turned a glance of gentle surprise on her mother, and then +looked up at Polly. + +"No, not exactly to bid him good-night," she said slowly. "I was afraid +he was sick; I heard him coughing, so I went down." + +"He is quite well, isn't he?" asked Mrs. Pepper. "Here, give me your +hand, child; we must get up to bed." + +"Oh, yes! he is quite really and truly all well," declared Phronsie, +breaking into another glad little laugh. "He said he never had such a +beautiful time in his life, and he is just as well as he can be. Oh, +Polly!" as she picked up her Princess gown and prepared to ascend the +stairs, "how funny you look sitting there!" + +"Funny?" said Polly grimly. "I dare say, and I feel funny too, +Phronsie." + + + + +VI + +THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE + + +They were all sitting around the library fire; Polly under the pretext +of holding Phronsie's head in her lap, was sitting on the rug beside +her, the boys on either hand; old Mr. King was marching up and down the +long room, and looking at them. The merriest of stories had been told, +Polly urging on all the school records of jolly times, and those not so +enjoyable; songs had been sung, and all sorts of nonsense aired. At +last Joel sprang up and ran over to pace by the old gentleman's side. + +"Christmas was good enough," said the boy, by way of beginning +conversation. + +"Hey?" responded the old gentleman, looking down at him, "I should +think it was. Well, and how about the wonderful play on the +twenty-first? And that was good enough, too, I dare say." + +"That was well enough," said Joel indifferently, "I don't care for such +stuff, though." + +"Tut--tut!" cried Mr. King in pretended anger, "now I won't have +anything said against that wonderful production. Not a thing, sir, do +you hear?" + +Joel laughed, his chubby face twinkling all over in secret amusement. +"Well, I know something better, if you'll only let us do it, sir, than +a hundred old plays." + +"And pray what is it?" demanded Mr. King, "let's have it at once. But +the idea of surpassing the play! Oh, no, no, it can't be done, sir!" + +"It's to go and see the little brown house," said Joel, standing up on +his tiptoes to a level with the old gentleman's ear, and one eye +looking backward to see that nobody heard. + +Mr. King started, pulled his handsome moustache thoughtfully, looked at +Joel sharply, and then over at the group in the firelight. + +"They don't know anything about it," cried the boy in a whisper, "don't +tell them. It's my secret, and yours," he added generously. "Oh! if we +might only go and look at it." + +"It's winter," observed the old gentleman, and stepping to the window +he put aside the draperies, to peer out into the black evening. "Yes, +it really is winter," he added with a shiver, to the boy who was close +behind, and as if no longer in doubt about it, he added most +emphatically, "it really is winter, Joel." + +"Well, but you never saw anything like it, how magnificent winter is in +Badgertown," cried Joel in an excited whisper. "Such hills to coast +down; the snow is always crisp there, sir, not like this dirty town +mud. And the air is as dry as punk," he added artfully. "Oh! 'twould be +such a lark;" he actually clasped his hands. + +"Badgertown isn't so very far off," said Mr. King thoughtfully, "I'll +think about it and see if we can manage it." + +"Ugh-ow!" squealed Joel, utterly forgetful of his caution of secrecy, +"we can, we can; we can open the little brown house, and build great +fires there, and"--But he got no further. Into the midst of Van's +liveliest sally, came the words "little brown house," bringing all the +young people to their feet, Phronsie running to the old gentleman's +side, with, "What is it, Grandpapa? He said the little brown house." + +"Get away!" cried Joel crossly to the besiegers, each and all wildly +clamoring. "What is it? What are you talking about? It's my secret," he +cried, "and his," pointing with a dismayed finger to Mr. King. + +"Well, it isn't a secret any longer," cried Polly, flushing with +excitement. "You said 'little brown house,' we heard you just as +plainly; and you re getting up something, I know you are." "People +don't usually select a roomful of listeners, and then shout out their +secrets," said Jasper. "You are in for it now, Joe, and no mistake. Go +ahead, old fellow, and give us the rest of it." + +Joel whirled away from them all in desperation. "You might as well," +laughed the old gentleman, "the mischief is done now, and no mistake." + +So Joel, thus set upon, allowed the whole beautiful plan to be wrung +from him, by slow and torturing installments; how they all were to go +to Badgertown, open the little brown house, and stay there--here he +glanced at Mr. King--"perhaps a week," he brought out suddenly, filling +the time with all sorts of frolics, and playing they were there again, +and really and truly living in the old home. + +At last it was all out, to be received in different ways by the +listeners. + +"Oh, Joe!" cried Davie with shining eyes. "We never could come away +again if we once get there, never!" + +Polly stood quite still, a mist gathering before her glad eyes, out of +which she dimly saw the little brown house arise and beckon to her. + +Phronsie jumped up and down and clapped her hands in glee. "Oh, +Grandpapa, Grandpapa!" she screamed, "please take us to the little +brown house, please!" + +That settled it. "I do not think we need to consider it longer," said +Mr. King, glancing at Ben, whose face told what he thought, "children, +we will go--that is, if Mrs. Pepper says yes. + +"I will ask her," cried Joel with a howl, springing off. + +"Come on," cried Jasper, "let's all 'be in at the death.'" And the +library was deserted in a twinkling. + +But mother was nowhere to be found. "Upstairs, downstairs, and in the +lady's chamber," they sought her wildly. + +"Oh! I forgot," exclaimed Polly, when at last they gathered in the wide +hall, disposing themselves on the chairs and along the stairs, all +tired out. "She has gone to evening meeting with Auntie. How stupid of +me not to remember that." + +"Well, I declare!" cried a voice above them, and looking up they met +the cold blue eyes of Mrs. Chatterton regarding them over the railing. +"Cousin Horatio, do you keep a menagerie, or a well-ordered house, I +beg to inquire?" + +"A menagerie," said Mr. King coolly, leaning on the balustrade at the +foot of the stairs, and looking up at her. "All sorts of strange +animals wander in here, Cousin." + +"Hum; I understand. I'm not so dull as you think. Well, you've changed, +let me tell you, vastly, and not for the better either, in the last six +years. Who would ever suppose I see before me fastidious Horatio King!" +she exclaimed, lifting her long thin hands to show him their +horror-stricken palms. + +"I dare say, I dare say, Cousin Eunice," assented Mr. King carelessly, +"but I consider all you say as a compliment." + +"Compliment?" she repeated disdainfully, and added with a rising note +of anger, forgetting herself, "there's no fool like an old fool." + +"So I think," said Mr. King in the same tone as before. "Children, come +into my room now, and close the door." And Cousin Eunice was left to +air further opinions to her own ear. + +But when Mother Pepper and Mrs. Whitney did come home from the meeting, +oh! what a time there was. They all fell upon her, as soon as the door +opened, and the whole air was filled with "little brown house." "May +we--may we?" "A whole week." "Two days, Mamsie, do say yes," and +Phronsie's glad little chirp "Grandpapa wants to go, he does!" ending +every other exclamation. + +"What a babel," cried Mrs. Pepper, her black eyes roving over the +excited group. "Now what is it all about? Baby, you tell mother first." + +Phronsie was not too big to jump into the comfortable lap, and while +her fingers played with the bonnet strings, she laid the whole +delightful plan open, the others hanging over them in ill-suppressed +excitement. + +"Well, you see, Mamsie," she began deliberately. + +"Oh! you are so slow, Phronsie," exclaimed Polly, "do hurry." + +"Let her take her own time," said Mr. King, "go on, child." + +"Dear Grandpapa," proceeded Phronsie, turning her yellow head to look +at him, her hand yet among the bonnet strings, "is going to take us +all, every single one, to see the little brown house, and just touch it +once, and be sure it's there, and peek in the doors and windows and"-- + +"No, no," roared Joel, "we're going to stay, and a week too," hopping +confidently up and down. + +"Oh, Joe! not a week," corrected Polly with glowing cheeks, "perhaps +two days; we don't know yet." + +"Three--three," begged Van, pushing his head further into the center of +the group. "Mrs. Pepper, do say you want to stay three days," he begged. + +"I haven't said I wanted to go yet," she answered with a smile. + +"Now, every one of you keep quiet," commanded Mr. King, raising his +hand, "or you'll spoil the whole thing. Phronsie shall tell her story +as she likes." + +Thereupon the rest, with the shadow of his warning that the whole might +be spoiled, fell back to a vigorous restraint once more. + +"Perhaps," cried Phronsie with shining eyes, and grasping the strings +tighter she leaned forward and pressed her red lips on the mother's +mouth, "we'll go in and stay. Oh, Mamsie!" + +That "Oh, Mamsie!" carried the day, and every one hanging on the +conversation knew as soon as they heard it that a victory had been won. + +"It's no use to contend against the Fates," said Mrs. Whitney, +laughing, "Mrs. Pepper, you and I know that." + +"That's so," cried old Mr. King, "and whoever finds it out early in +life, is the lucky one. Now, children, off with you and talk it over," +he cried, dismissing them as if they were all below their teens. "I +want to talk with Mrs. Pepper now." + +And in two days they were ready to go. Mrs. Chatterton with nose high +in the air, and plentiful expressions of disgust at such a mid-winter +expedition, taking herself off to make a visit of corresponding length +to some distant relatives. + +"I hope and pray this may not get into a society paper," she cried at +the last, as she was seated in the carriage, "but of course it will; +outre things always do. And we shall be disgraced for life. One comfort +remains to me, I am not in it." + +Mr. King, holding the carriage door, laughed long and loudly. "No, +Cousin Eunice," he said, "you are not in it. Take comfort in that +thought. Good-by," and the carriage rolled off. + +Mother Pepper and the five little Peppers were going back to the little +brown house. "Really and truly we are," as Phronsie kept saying over +and over again with every revolution of the car-wheels, in a crooning +fashion, and making it impossible for Mr. King to shiver in +apprehension at the step he was taking. Were not two cases of blankets +and household comforts safely packed away in the luggage car? "It's not +such a dreadful risk," said the old gentleman gruffly to himself, "it's +quite a common occurrence nowadays to take a winter outing in the +country. We're all right," and he re-enforced himself further by +frequent glances at Mrs. Pepper's black bonnet, two seats off. + +It was to be a three-days' frolic, after all. Not that the whole party +were to stay in the little brown house. O dear, no! how could they? It +was only big enough for the Peppers. So Mrs. Whitney and her three +boys, with Mr. King, and Jasper, who concealed many disappointed +feelings, planned to settle down in the old hotel at Hingham. + +And before anybody imagined they could reach there so soon, there they +were at Badgertown Center, to find Mr. Tisbett waiting there on his +stage-box as if he had not stirred from it for five years. + +"Sho, now!" he called out from his elevated position to Mrs. Pepper, as +she stepped down from the car, "it's good to see you, though. Land! how +many of ye be there? And is that Phronsie? Sho, now!" + +"Did you get my letter?" exclaimed Mother Pepper to Mrs. Henderson, who +was pressing up to grasp her hand, and preparing to fall on the young +folks separately. The parson stood just back, biding his time with a +smile. + +"Is it possible?" he exclaimed; "are these tall boys and girls the five +little Peppers? It can't be, Mrs. Pepper," as at last he had her hand. +"You are imposing on us." + +And then the village people who had held back until their pastor and +his wife paid their respects, rushed up and claimed their rights, and +it was high holiday indeed for Badgertown. + +"My goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King at a little remove and viewing the +scene with great disfavor, "this is worse than the danger of taking +cold. Have they no sense, to carry on like this?" + +"They're so glad to see the Peppers again, father," said Mrs. Whitney +with bright eyes. "You took them away from all these good people, you +know; it's but fair to give them up for one day." + +The old gentleman fumed and fretted, however, in a subdued fashion; at +last wisely turning his back, he began to stalk down the platform, +under pretense of examining the landscape. + +"Your friends will stay with us," Mrs. Henderson was saying in a gently +decisive manner, "the old parsonage is big enough," she added with a +laugh. + +"Oh! you are so good and thoughtful, dear Mrs. Henderson," cried Mrs. +Pepper with delight at the thought of the homelike warmth of the +parsonage life awaiting the old gentleman, for whom she was dreading +the dreary hotel. + +"I'm good to ourselves," declared the parson's wife gaily. + +Jasper gave a shout when the new arrangement was declared, as it +presently was by Percy and Van, who flung themselves after him as he +was seeing to the luggage with Ben, and his face glowed with the +greatest satisfaction. + +"That is jolly," he exclaimed, "and that's a fact! Now, Ben, we're but +a stone's throw apart. Rather different, isn't it, old fellow, from the +time when I used to race over from Hingham with Prince at my heels?" + +Dr. Fisher's little thin, wiry figure was now seen advancing upon the +central group, and everybody fell away to let him have his chance to +welcome the Peppers. + +"I couldn't get here before," he cried, his eyes glowing behind his +spectacles. "I've left a very sick patient. This is good," he took them +all in with a loving glance, but his hand held to Polly. "Now I'm going +to drive you down in my gig," he said to her at last. "Will you come?" + +"Yes, indeed," cried Polly in delight, as her mother smiled approval, +and she ran off to let him help her in. "It's only yesterday since you +took me to drive, Dr. Fisher, and you gave me my stove--is it?" And so +she rambled on, the little doctor quite charmed to hear it all. + +But Mr. Tisbett had a truly dreadful time placing his party in the old +stage, as the townsfolk, fearful that so good a chance for seeing the +Peppers would not happen during the three days' stay, insisted on +crowding up close to the ancient vehicle, and getting in everybody's +way, thereby calling forth some exclamations from Mr. King that could +not be regarded as exactly complimentary. And quite sure that he was a +frightful tyrant, they fell back with many a pitying glance at the +Pepper family whom he was endeavoring to assist into their places. + +At last it was all accomplished in some way, and Mr. Tisbett cracked +his whip, Mrs. Pepper and Phronsie leaned out of the window to bow +right and left into smiling faces, Ben and Davie did the same over +their heads. + +"Good-by," sang out Joel, whom the stage driver had taken up beside +him. "Here we are, off for the little brown house. G'lang!" + + + + +VII + +OLD TIMES AGAIN + + +"Don't let me look--oh! don't let me look," cried Polly in the old gig, +and twisting around, she hid her face against the faded green cloth +side. "I ought not to see the little brown house before Mamsie and the +others do." + +"I'll turn down the lane," said the little doctor, "so"; and suiting +the action to the word, Polly could feel that they were winding down +the narrow little road over toward Grandma Bascom's. She could almost +smell the violets and anemones under the carpet of snow, and could +scarcely restrain herself from jumping out for a riotous run. + +"Don't go too far away," she cried in sudden alarm. "We must be there +by the time the stage does." And she applied her eye to the little +circular glass in the back of the gig. "Will it never come--oh! here it +is, here it is, dear Dr. Fisher." And with a quick flourish around of +the old horse, they were soon before the little brown house, and +helping out the inmates of the stage, who with more speed than grace +were hurrying over the steps. + +Joel was down before Mr. Tisbett had fairly drawn up in front of the +gate. "Hold on," roared the stage driver, "I don't want you to break +your neck with me." + +"It's really here!" cried Phronsie with wide eyes, standing quite still +on a hummock of frozen snow, with her eyes riveted on the house. "It +really is!" Polly had raced up the winding path, and over the flat +stone to drop a kiss on the little old door. + +"Oh! oh! Mamsie, do come!" she cried to Mrs. Pepper on the path. + +"Hum! I think, Jasper, you and I will let them alone for a few +moments," said Mr. King, who was still within the stage. "Here, my good +fellow," to Mr. Tisbett, "you say it's all comfortable in there for +them?" + +"Yes, yes, sir," said Mr. Tisbett heartily. "Good land! Mis' Henderson +had her boys come down airly this mornin' and make the fires; and +there's a mighty sight of things to eat." The stage-driver put one foot +on the hind wheel to facilitate conversation, and smacked his lips. + +"All very well. Now you may drive us down the road a bit," said Mr. +King, withdrawing his head to the depths of the lumbering old vehicle +again. + +"Ain't goin' in?" cried Mr. Tisbett, opening his round eyes at him in +astonishment. + +"Get up and drive us on, I say," commanded the old gentleman, "and +cease your talking," which had the effect to send honest Mr. Tisbett +clambering expeditiously up to the box, where he presently revenged +himself by driving furiously over all the hard frozen ruts he could +quickly select, determined not to stop till he was obliged to. + +"Goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King within, holding to the strap at the +side, as well as to the leather band of the swinging seat in front. +"What an abominable road!" + +"The road is well enough," said Jasper, who couldn't bear to have a +word uttered against Badgertown, "it's the fellow's driving that makes +it rough. Here, can't you be a little more careful to keep the road?" +he called, thrusting his head out of the window. But he only narrowly +escaped losing his brown traveling cap for his pains, as the stage gave +a worse lurch than before, to introduce a series of creakings and +joltings hitherto unparalleled. + +"I cannot endure this much longer," said old Mr. King, growing white +around the mouth, and wishing he had strength for one-half the +exclamations he felt inwardly capable of. Outside, honest Mr. Tisbett +was taking solid comfort in the reflection that he was teaching a rich +city man that he could not approach with anything less than respect a +citizen of Badgertown. + +"Ain't I as good as he?" cried Mr. Tisbett to himself, with an extra +cut to the off horse, as he spied a sharp ragged edge of ice along the +cart track in front of him. "Now that's good; that'll shake him," he +added cheerfully. "Land! but I hain't been spoke to so since I was +sassed at school by Jim Bently, and then I licked him enough to pay +twice over. G'lang there--easy!" + +The first thing he knew, one of the glass windows was shivered to +fragments; the bits flying off along the quiet road, to fall a gleaming +shower upon the snow. + +"Whoa!" called Mr. Tisbett, to his smoking horses, and leaning over, he +cried, "What's the matter in there?" + +"The matter is," said Jasper, putting his face out, "that as I could +not possibly make you hear my calls, I chose to break the window. Have +the goodness to let my father and me at once out of this vehicle." + +Mr. Tisbett got down slowly over the wheel. "Beg your pardon," he said +awkwardly, pulling open the door, "ain't you goin' to ride back?" + +"Heavens!" cried Mr. King. He was glad to find he could ejaculate so +much as he tremblingly worked his way out to terra firma. "Nothing on +earth would tempt me to step foot inside there again." + +"Here is the money for your window," said Jasper, putting a bill into +the fur mitten, covering Mr. Tisbett's brawny right hand. "Kindly bring +our traps to the little brown house; here, father, take my arm," and he +ran after the tall figure, picking its way along the frozen road. + +"Hey--what's this?" exclaimed Mr. Tisbett, looking into the center of +his fur mitten, "five dollars! Gee--thumps! I ain't a-goin' to take it, +after shaking that old party almost to pieces." + +He stood staring at the bill in stupid perplexity till the uneasy +movements of his horses warned him that his position was not exactly +the proper one for a stage-driver who was on his box from morning till +night, so he clambered over the wheel, full of vexed thoughts, and +carefully tucked the bill under the old cushion before he took his seat. + +"Ill give it back to him, that's cert'in," he said, picking up the +reins, "and p'raps they've had enough walkin' so they'll let me pick +'em up," which raised him out of his depression not a little. + +But the stern faces of the old gentleman and the tall boy smote him +with a chill, long before he passed them, and he drove by silently, +well knowing it would not do to broach the subject by so much as a look. + +Not daring to go near the little brown house without the occupants of +the stage who had driven down the road with him, Mr. Tisbett drew up +miserably to a convenient angle, and waited till the two came up. Then +without trusting himself to think, he sprang to the ground, and with +shame written all over his honest face, called out, "See here, you +young chap, I want to speak to you, when you've got him in the house." + +"I will see you then," said Jasper, as the two hurried on to meet the +Peppers rushing out from the little brown house, and down the small +path. + +"I've made an awful mess for 'em all, and they just come home," groaned +Mr. Tisbett; drawing his fur mitten across his eyes, and leading his +horses, he followed at a funeral pace, careful not to stop at the gate +until the door was closed, when he began furiously to unload. + +A footstep crunching the snow, broke into the noise he was making. +"Hoh! well," he exclaimed, pausing with a trunk half-off the rack, +"it's a mighty awkward thing for a man to say he's sorry, but you bet I +be, as cert'in as my name's John Tisbett." His face became so very red +that Jasper hastened to put his young shoulder under the trunk, a +movement that only added to the stage-driver's distress. + +"It don't pay to get mad, now I tell you," declared Mr. Tisbett, +dumping the trunk down on the snow, and then drawing himself to his +full height; "fust place, your pa sassed me, and"-- + +"He didn't intend to," cried Jasper eagerly, "and I'll apologize for +him, if that's what you want." He laid his strong right hand in the old +fur mitten. + +"Good land! Tain't what I want," cried honest John, but he gripped the +hand nevertheless, a fact that the boy never forgot; "I say I'm sorry I +shook up your pa." + +"His age ought to have protected him," said the boy simply. + +"Sho! that's a fact," cried Mr. Tisbett, sinking in deeper distress, +"but how is anybody to remember he's so old, when he steps so almighty +high, as if he owned all Badgertown--say!" + +"I think we shall be good friends, Mr. Tisbett," said Jasper cordially, +as he turned to wave his hand toward the little brown house; +simultaneously the door opened, and all the young Peppers and Whitneys +rushed out to help in the delightful unloading. + +It was well along in the afternoon. The dusk of the December twilight +shut down speedily, around the little brown house and its happy +occupants, but no one wanted the candles lighted till the last moment. + +"Oh, Polly!" cried Joel, who was prancing as of old over the kitchen +floor, "don't you remember that night when you said you wished you had +two hundred candles, and you'd light them all at once?" + +"I said a good many silly things in those days," said Polly +meditatively, and smoothing Phronsie's yellow hair that was lying +across her lap. + +"Some silly ones, and a good many wise ones," observed Mother Pepper, +over in her little old rocker in the west window, where she used to sit +sewing up coats and sacks for the village storekeeper. "You kept us +together many a time, Polly, when nothing else could." + +"Oh! no, I didn't, Mamsie," protested Polly, guilty of contradicting, +"you and Bessie did. I just washed dishes, and swept up, and"-- + +"Baked and brewed, and fussed and stewed," finished Joel, afraid of +being too sentimental. + +"Polly was just lovely in those days," said Davie, coming across the +room to lay a cool cheek against her rosy one. "I liked the rainy days +best when we all could stay in the house, and hear her sing and tell +stories while she was working." + +"She was cross sometimes," cried Joel, determined not to let +reminiscences become too comfortable; "she used to scold me just +awfully, I know." + +Polly broke into a merry laugh; yet she exclaimed, "You poor Joey, I +suppose I was dreadful!" + +"You didn't catch one half as bad scoldings as belonged to you," put in +Ben, thrusting another stick in the stove. "You were a bad lot, Joe, in +those days." + +"And not over good in these," cried old Mr. King, ensconced in the +snuggest corner in the seat of honor, the high-backed rocker that +comforted Phronsie after her little toe was hurt. "There, now, my boy, +how's that?" with a grim smile. + +"Do you remember when the old stove used to plague you, Polly?" cried +Joel, suddenly changing the conversation. "And how Ben's putty was +everlastingly tumbling out? Hoh--hoh!" + +"And you two boys were always stuffing up the holes for me, when Ben +was away," cried Polly, with affectionate glances at Davie and Joel. + +"I didn't so much," said Joel honestly, "Dave was always giving +boot-tops and such things." + +"Boot-tops!" repeated Mr. King in astonishment. "Bless me, I didn't +know that they had anything in common with stoves." + +"Oh! that was before we knew you," said Joel, ready in advance of any +one else with the explanation; "it wasn't this stove. Dr. Fisher gave +Polly this one after she had the measles; but it was a lumbering old +affair that was full of holes that had to be stopped up with anything +we could get. And leather was the best; and Davie saved all the old +boot-heels and tops he could find, you know." + +"Oh!" said the old gentleman, wondering if other revelations would come +to light about the early days of the Peppers. + +"Isn't Dr. Fisher lovely?" cried Polly, with sparkling eyes, "just the +same as ever. Mamsie, I ought to do something for him. + +"He is as good as gold," assented Mrs. Pepper heartily. "You've done +something, I'm sure, Polly. The medical books you bought out of your +pocket money, and sent him, pleased him more than anything you could +give him." + +"But I want to do something now," said Polly. "Oh! just think how good +he was to us." + +"May we never forget it!" exclaimed Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes. + +"But he's very unwise," said Mr. King a trifle testily, "not to take up +with my offer to establish him in the town. A man like him could easily +hold a good practice, because the fellow's got ability." + +"Oh! Dr. Fisher wouldn't leave Badgertown," cried all the Peppers in a +bunch. "And what would the poor people here do without him?" finished +Polly. + +"Well, well, never mind, he won't come to town, and that's enough," +said the old gentleman quickly. "Aside from that, he's a sensible chap, +and one quite to my liking." + +"Oh, Polly!" cried Phronsie suddenly, and lifting her head, she +fastened her brown eyes on the face above her, "wasn't Mamsie's +birthday cake good?" + +"The flowers were pretty, but the cake was heavy, don't you remember?" +said Polly, who hadn't recovered from that grief even yet. + +"I thought it was just beautiful," cried Mrs. Pepper hastily. "No one +could have baked it better in the old stove you had. I'm sure we ate it +all up, every crumb." + +"We kept it in the old cupboard," cried Joel, rushing over to the +corner to swing the door open. "And we never once peeked, Mamsie, so +afraid you'd suspect." + +"You kept staring at the cupboard door all the evening, Joe, you know +you did," cried Ben; "you were just within a hair's breadth of letting +the whole thing out ever so many times. Polly and I had to drag you +away. We were glad enough when you went to bed, I can tell you." + +"You were always sending me off to bed in those days," said Joel, +taking his head out of the cupboard to throw vindictive glances over to +the group around the stove. + +"I wish we could do so now," said Ben. + +"And those two," Joel went on, pointing to Polly and Ben, "used to go +whispering around a lot of old secrets, that they wouldn't tell us. Oh! +it was perfectly awful, wasn't it, Dave?" bestowing a small pinch on +that individual's shoulder. + +"I liked the secrets best not to know them till Polly and Ben got ready +to tell us," said David slowly; "then they were just magnificent." + +Phronsie had laid her head back in the waiting lap, and was crooning +softly to herself. + +"I want to go and see dear good Mr. Beebe," she said presently, "and +nice Mrs. Beebe, can I, Mamsie?" looking over at her. + +"To be sure," cried Mrs. Pepper, "you shall indeed, child." + +"Beebe-Beebe, and who is he, pray?" demanded Mr. King. + +"Oh! he keeps the shoe shop over in the Center," explained three or +four voices, "and Phronsie's new shoes were bought there, you know." + +"And he gave me pink and white candy-sticks," said Phronsie, "and he +was very nice; and I like him very much." + +"And Mrs. Beebe gave us doughnuts all around," communicated Joel; "I +don't know but that I liked those best. There was more to them." + +"So you always bought your new shoes of the Beebes?" asked the old +gentleman, a question that brought all the five Peppers around his +chair at once. + +"We didn't ever have new shoes that I can remember," said Joel quickly, +"except Phronsie's, and once Ben had a new pair. He had to, because he +was the oldest, you know." + +"Oh!" said Mr. King. + +"You see," said Phronsie, shaking her head gravely, while she laid one +hand on his knee, "we were very poor, Grandpapa dear. Don't you +understand?" + +"Yes, yes, child," said old Mr. King; "there, get up here," and he took +her within his arms. + +"No, no, you're not going to talk yet," seeing Percy and Van beginning +violent efforts to join in the conversation. "Let the Peppers have a +chance to talk over old times first. See how good Jasper is to wait." + +"I would much prefer to hear the Peppers talk forever," said Jasper, +smiling down on the two Whitneys, "than to have the gates opened for a +general flood. Go on, do, Polly and Ben, and the rest of you." + +"Oh! there is so much," said Polly despairingly, clasping her hands, +"we shouldn't get through if we talked ten years, should we, Ben? +Mamsie," and she rushed over to her, "can we have a baking time +to-morrow, just as we used to in the old days? Oh! do say yes." + +"Yes, do say yes," echoed Jasper, also rushing to the side of the +little rocking-chair. "You will, won't you, Mrs. Pepper?" + +"Hoh! hoh!" cried the two Whitneys derisively, "I thought you could +'hear the Peppers talk forever.' That's great, Jasper." + +"Well, when it comes to hearing a proposal for a baking frolic, my +principles are thrown to the wind," said Jasper recklessly. "Why, boys, +that's the first thing I remember about the little brown house. Do say +yes, Mrs. Pepper!" + + + + +VIII + +SOME BADGERTOWN CALLS + + +"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Grandma Bascom, opening the door and +looking in, "I never!" + +"Come in," cried Mr. King sociably. His night over at the parsonage had +been a most fortunate experiment. "I haven't slept so finely in ten +years," he confided to Mrs. Whitney as they met at breakfast at the +minister's table. So now, his face wreathed with smiles, he repeated +his invitation. "Come in, do, Mrs. Bascom; we're glad to see you." + +"I never!" said Grandma Bascom once more, for want of something better +to say, and coming close to the center of operations. + +Jasper, attired in one of Mrs. Pepper's long aprons, which was fastened +in the style of the old days, by the strings around his neck, was +busily engaged in rolling out under Polly's direction, a thin paste, +expected presently under the genial warmth of the waiting stove, to +evolve into most toothsome cakes. Ben was similarly attired, and +similarly employed; while Joel and David were in a sticky state, +preparing their dough after their own receipt, over at the corner +table, their movements closely followed by the three Whitneys. + +Phronsie, before a board laid across two chairs, was enlightening old +Mr. King who sat by her, into the mysteries of baking day. + +"Do bake a gingerbread boy," he begged. "I never had anything half so +good as the one you sent over to Hingham." + +"You were my poor sick man then," observed Phronsie, with slow, even +pats on her bit of dough. "Please, the rolling-pin now, Grandpapa dear." + +"To be sure," cried the old gentleman; "here, Jappy, my boy, be so good +as to hand us over that article." + +"And you see," continued Phronsie, receiving the rolling-pin, and +making the deftest of passes with it over the soft mass, "I couldn't +send you anything better, though I wanted to, Grandpapa dear." + +"Better?" cried Mr. King. "I should think not; you couldn't have made +me anything that pleased me more, had you tried a thousand times." + +Phronsie never tired of hearing this, and now humming a soft note of +thanks, proceeded with her task, declaring that she would make the best +gingerbread boy that could possibly be achieved. + +Grandma Bascom was still reiterating "I never," and going slowly from +one group to another to inspect operations. When she came to Phronsie, +she stopped short, raising her hands in surprise. "Seems as ef 'twas +only yesterday when the Peppers went away, though land knows I've +missed 'em all most dretfully, 'an there sets that blessed child +baking, as big as any of 'em. I never!" + +"Have you any more raisins to give us, Grandma?" shouted Joel across +the kitchen. "They were terribly hard," he added in his natural voice; +"almost broke our teeth." + +"Hey?" called Grandma back again. + +"Raisins, Grandma, or peppermints," cried Joel. + +"Oh, Joe, for shame!" called Ben. + +"I'm going to have the fun of going after them," declared Joel, +throwing down his dough-pat, and wiping his sticky fingers on his +apron; "just like old times--so there!" + +"I'll go over and get 'em," said Grandma; "you come along with me," +looking admiringly up at the tall boy; so the two, Joel laughing and +hopping by her side as if he were five years younger, disappeared, +well-pleased with each other. + +"Now I shall take his dough," declared Dick, rushing around the end of +the table to Joel's deserted place. + +"No such thing," declared Van, flying out of his chair. "Leave your +hands off, youngster! that's to be mine." + +Polly looked up from the little cookies she was cutting with the top of +a tin baking powder box and their eyes met. + +"I didn't promise not to have it out with Dicky," said Van stoutly. +"He's a perfect plague, and always under foot. I never thought of such +a thing as not making him stand around, Polly." + +But the brown eyes did not return to their task, as Polly mechanically +stamped another cooky. + +"I only promised not to have a bout with Percy," Van proceeded +uncomfortably. And in the same breath, "Go ahead, If you want it, +Dicky, I don't care." + +"I do want it," declared Dick, clambering into Van's chair, while Van +returned to his own, "and I'm going to have it too. I guess you think +you'd better give it up now, sir; I'm getting so big." + +"Softly there, Dicky," said Mrs. Whitney, over in the window-seat with +her fancy work; "if Van gives up, you should thank him; I think he is +very good to do it." And the bigger boy's heart warmed with the radiant +smile she sent him. + +Dick gave several vicious thrusts to his dough, and looked up at last +to say very much against his will, "Thank you," and adding brightly, +"but you know I'm getting big, sir, and you'd better give up." + +"All right," said Van, with that smile in his heart feeling equal to +anything. + +"Now," cried Jasper, with a flourish of his baking apron, "mine are +ready. Here goes!" and he opened the oven door and pushed in a pan of +biscuit. + +"Jappy's always ahead in everything," grumbled Percy, laboring away at +his dough. "How in the world do you make the thing roll out straight? +Mine humps up in the middle." + +"Put some more flour on the board," said Polly, running over to him. +"There, now see, Percy, if that doesn't roll smooth." "It does with +you," said Percy, taking the rolling-pin again, to send it violently +over the long-suffering dough, "and--I declare, it's going to do with +me," he cried, in delight at the large flat cake staring up at him from +the board. "Now, says I, I'll beat you, Jappy!" And presently the whole +kitchen resounded with a merry din, as the several cakes and biscuits +were declared almost ready for their respective pans. + +"But, I can tell you, this gingerbread boy is going in next," declared +Mr. King from Phronsie's baking-board. "It's almost done, isn't it, +child?" + +"Not quite, Grandpapa," said Phronsie; "this eye won't stay in just +like the other. It doesn't look the same way, don't you see?" pointing +to the currant that certainly showed no inclination to do its duty, as +any well-bred eye should. "Wait just a moment, please; I'll pull it out +and stick it in again." + +"Take another," advised the old gentleman, fumbling over the little +heap of currants on the saucer. "There, here's a good round one, and +very expressive, too, Phronsie." + +"That's lovely," hummed Phronsie, accepting the new eye with very +sticky fingers. "Now, he's all ready," as she set it in its place, and +took the boy up tenderly. "Give me a pan, do, Polly." + +"Did you cut that out?" cried Dick, turning around in his chair, and +regarding her enviously, "all alone by yourself? Didn't Grandpapa help +you just one teeny bit to make the legs and the hands?" + +"No; she made it all herself," said the old gentleman, with justifiable +pride. "There, Phronsie, here's your pan," as Polly set it down before +her with a "You precious dear, that's perfectly elegant!" + +Phronsie placed the boy within the pan, and gave it many a loving pat. +"Grandpapa sat here, and looked at it, and smiled," she said, turning +her eyes gravely on Dick, "and that helped ever so much. I couldn't +ever have made it so nice alone. Good-by; now bake like a good boy. Let +me put it in the oven all by myself, do, Polly," she begged. + +So Phronsie, the old gentleman escorting her in mortal dread that she +would be burned, safely tucked her long pan into the warmest corner, +shut the door, and gravely consulted the clock. "If I look at it in +twenty-one minutes, I think it will be done," she said, "quite brown." + +In twenty-one minutes the whole kitchen was as far removed from being +the scene of a baking exploit as was possible. Everything was cleared +away, and set up primly in its place, leaving only a row of fine little +biscuits and cookies, with Phronsie's gingerbread boy in the midst, to +tell the tale of what had been going on. Outside there was a great +commotion. + +Deacon Brown's old wagon stood at the gate, for the Peppers and their +friends; and, oh! joy, not the old horse between the shafts, but a +newer and much livelier beast. And on the straw laid in the bottom of +the wagon, the seats being removed, disported all the merry group, Mr. +King alone having the dignity of a chair. + +Deacon Brown, delighted with his scheme of bringing the wagon over as a +surprise for the Peppers to take a drive in, was on the side of the +narrow foot-path, chuckling and rubbing his hands together. "You won't +have to drive so easy as you used to, Ben," he called out, "this +fellow's chirk; give him his head. Sho! what you goin' that way for?" +as Ben turned off down the lane. + +"To Grandma Bascom's," shouted two or three voices. + +"Joel's over there," sang out Polly. + +"We couldn't go without him, you know," chirped Phronsie, poking a +distressed little face up from the straw heap. + +"'Twould serve him just right if we did," said Van. "He's a great chap +to stay over there like this." + +"No--no," cried Dick in terror, "don't go without Joel; I'd rather have +him than any of you," he added, not over politely. + +Phronsie began to cry piteously at the mere thought of Joel's being +left behind. + +"He wanted to see Mr. Beebe," she managed to say, "and dear Mrs. Beebe. +Oh! don't go without him." So Mr. King made them hand her up to him, +and at the risk of their both rolling out, he held her in his lap until +the wagon, stopping at the door of Grandma Bascom's cottage, brought +Joel bounding out with a whoop. + +"Jolly! where'd you get that, and where are you going?" all in one +breath, as he swung himself up behind. + +"Deacon Brown brought it over just now," cried Polly. + +"As a surprise," furnished Percy. "Isn't he a fine old chap? Here's for +the very jolliest go!" + +"We're going to see dear Mr. Beebe, and dear Mrs. Beebe," announced +Phronsie, smiling through her tears, and leaning out of the old +gentleman's lap to nod at him. + +"Hurrah!" screamed Joel. "Good-by, Grandma," to the old lady, whose +cap-frills were framed in the small window. "I've had a fine time in +there," he condescended to say, but nothing further as to the details +could they extract from him; and so at last they gave it up, and lent +their attention to the various things to be seen as the wagon spun +along. And so over and through the town, and to the very door of the +little shoe-shop, and there, to be sure, was Mr. Beebe the same as +ever, to welcome them; and Joel found to his immense satisfaction that +the stone pot was as full of sugary doughnuts as in the old days; and +Phronsie had her pink and white sticks, and Mrs. Beebe "Oh-ed" and +"Ah-ed" over them all, and couldn't bear to let them go when at last it +was time to say "good-by." And at last they all climbed into the old +wagon, and were off again on their round of visits. + +It was not till the gray dusk of the winter afternoon settled down +unmistakably, so that no one could beg to stay out longer, that they +turned Deacon Brown's horse toward the little brown house. + +"It's going to snow to-morrow, I think," observed Jasper, squinting up +at the leaden sky, "isn't it, father?" + +"Whoop!" exclaimed Joel, "then we will have sport, I tell you!" + +"It certainly looks like it," said old Mr. King, wrapping his fur-lined +coat closer. "Phronsie, are you sure you are warm enough?" + +"Yes, Grandpapa dear," she answered, curling up deeper in the straw at +his feet. + +"Do you remember how you would carry the red-topped shoes home with +you, Phronsie?" cried Polly, and then away they rushed again into "Oh, +don't you remember this, and you haven't forgotten that?" Jasper as +wildly reminiscent now as the others, for hadn't he almost as good as +lived at the little brown house, pray tell? So the Whitneys looked +curiously on, without a chance to be heard in all the merry chatter; +and then they drew up at the gate of the parsonage, where they were all +to have supper. + +When Phronsie woke up in the big bed by the side of her mother the next +morning, Polly was standing over her, and looking down into her face. + +"Oh, Phronsie!" she exclaimed in great glee, "the ground is all covered +with snow!" + +"O--oh!" screamed Phronsie, her brown eyes flying wide open, "do give +me my shoes and stockings, Polly, do! I'll be dressed in just +one--minute," and thereupon ensued a merry scramble as she tumbled out +of the big bed, and commenced operations, Polly running out to help +Mamsie get the breakfast. + +"Mush seems good now we don't have to eat it," cried Joel, as they all +at last sat around the board. + +"'Twas good then," said Mrs. Pepper, her black eyes roving over the +faces before her. + +"How funny," cried Percy Whitney, who had run over from the parsonage +to breakfast, "this yellow stuff is." And he took up a spoonful of it +gingerly. + +"You don't like it, Percy; don't try to eat it. I'll make you a slice +of toast," cried Polly, springing out of her chair, "in just one +moment." + +"No, you mustn't," cried Dick, bounding in in time to catch the last +words. "Mamma said no one was to have anything different, if we came to +breakfast, from what the Peppers are going to eat. I like the yellow +stuff; give me some, do," and he slid into a chair and passed his plate +to Mrs. Pepper. + +"So you shall, Dicky," she said hastily. "And you will never taste +sweeter food than this," giving him a generous spoonful. + +"Grandpapa is eating ham and fried eggs over at the minister's house," +contributed Dick, after satisfying his hunger a bit. + +"Ham and fried eggs!" exclaimed Mother Pepper, aghast. "Why, he never +touches them. You must be mistaken, my boy." + +"No, I'm not," said Dick, obstinately. "The minister's wife said it +was, and she asked me if I wouldn't have some, and I said I was going +over to the Peppers to breakfast; I'd rather have some of theirs. And +Grandpapa said it was good--the ham and fried eggs was--and he took it +twice; he did, Mrs. Pepper." + +"Took it twice?" she repeated, faintly, with troubled visions of the +future. "Well, well, the mischief is done now, so there is no use in +talking about it; but I'm worried, all the same." + +"Hurry up, Percy," called Joel across the table, "and don't dawdle so. +We're going to make a double ripper, four yards long, to go down that +hill there." He laid down his spoon to point out the window at a +distant snow-covered slope. + +Percy shivered, but recalling himself in time, said "Splendid," and +addressed himself with difficulty to his mush. + +"Well, you'll never be through at that speed," declared Joel. "See I've +eaten three saucerfuls," and he handed his plate up, "And now for the +fourth, Mamsie." + +"Oh! baked potatoes," cried Ben, rolling one around in his hand before +he took off its crackling skin. "Weren't they good, though, with a +little salt. I tell you, they helped us to chop wood in the old times!" + +"I really think I shall have to try one," said Percy, who deeply to his +regret was obliged to confess that Indian meal mush had few charms for +his palate. + +"There's real milk in my mug now," cried Phronsie, with long, deep +draughts. "Polly, did I ever have anything but make-believe in the +little brown house; ever, Polly?" + +Polly was saved from answering by a stamping of snowy boots on the flat +doorstone. + +"Hurrah, there!" cried Van, rushing in, followed by Jasper. "Hoh, you +slow people in the little brown house, come on for the double ripper!" + + + + +IX + +A SUDDEN BLOW + + +"Mamsie," cried Polly, suddenly, and resting her hands on her knees as +she sat on the floor before the stove, "do you suppose there is any one +poor enough in Badgertown to need the little brown house when we lock +it up to-morrow?" "Not a soul," replied Mrs. Pepper, quickly; "no more +than there was when we first locked it up five years ago, Polly. I've +been all over that with the parson last evening; and he says there +isn't a new family in the place, and all the old ones have their homes, +the same as ever. So we can turn the key and leave it with a clear +conscience." + +Polly drew a long breath of delight, and gazed long at the face of the +stove that seemed to crackle out an answering note of joy as the wood +snapped merrily; then she slowly looked around the kitchen. + +"It's so perfectly lovely, Mamsie," she broke out at length, "to see +the dear old things, and to know that they are waiting here for us to +come back whenever we want to. And to think it isn't wicked not to have +them used, because everybody has all they need; oh! it's so delicious +to think they can be left to themselves." + +She folded her hands now across her knees, and drew another long breath +of content. + +Phronsie stole out of the bedroom, and came slowly up to her mother's +side, pausing a bit on the way to look into Polly's absorbed face. + +"I don't think, Mamsie," she said quietly, "that people ought to be so +very good who've never had a little brown house; never in all their +lives." + +"Oh, yes, they had, child," said Mrs. Pepper briskly; "places don't +make any difference. It's people's duty to be good wherever they are." + +But Phronsie's face expressed great incredulity. + +"I'm always going to live here when I am a big, grown-up woman," she +declared, slowly gazing around the kitchen, "and I shall never, never +go out of Badgertown." + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, turning around in dismay, "why, you +couldn't do that. Just think, child, whatever in the world would +Grandpapa do, or any of us, pray tell?" + +"Grandpapa would come here," declared Phronsie decidedly, and shaking +her yellow head to enforce her statement. "Of course Grandpapa would +come here, Polly. We couldn't live without him." + +"That's it," said Polly, with a corresponding shake of her brown head, +"of course we couldn't live without Grandpapa; and just as 'of course' +he couldn't leave his own dear home. He never would be happy, Phronsie, +to do that." + +Phronsie took a step or two into the sunshine lying on the middle of +the old kitchen floor. "Then I'd rather not come, Polly," she said. But +she sighed and Polly was just about saying, "We'll run down now and +then perhaps, Phronsie, as we have done now," when the door was thrown +open suddenly, and Joel burst in, his face as white as a sheet, and +working fearfully. + +"Oh, Polly! you must tell Mrs. Whitney--I can't." + +Polly sprang to her feet; Mrs. Pepper, who had just stepped into the +pantry, was saying, "I think, Polly, I'll make some apple dumplings, +the boys like them so much." + +"What is it, Joe?" cried Polly hoarsely, and standing quite still. +Phronsie, with wide eyes, went up and took the boy's cold hand, and +gazed into his face as he leaned against the door. + +"Dick!" groaned Joel; "oh! oh! I can't bear it," and covering his face +with one hand, he would have pulled the other from Phronsie's warm +little palm, but she held it fast. + +"Tell me at once, Joe," commanded Polly. "Hush!--mother"--but Mrs. +Pepper was already out of the pantry. + +"Joel," said Mrs. Pepper, "whatever it is, tell us immediately." + +The look in her black eyes forced him to gasp in one breath, "Dick fell +off the double ripper, and both of his legs are broken--may be not," he +added in a loud scream. + +Phronsie still held the boy's hand. He was conscious of it, and that +she uttered no word, and then he knew no more. + +"Leave him to me, Polly," said Mrs. Pepper, through drawn lips, "and +then do you run as you have never run before, to the parsonage. Oh! if +they should bring him there before the mother hears." + +Phronsie dropped the hand she held, and running on unsteady little feet +into the bedroom, came back with Polly's hood and coat. + +"Let me go," cried Polly wildly, rushing away from the detaining hand +to the door, "I don't want those things on. Let me go, Phronsie!" + +"You'll be cold," said Phronsie. With all her care, her little white +lips were quivering as she held out the things. "Please, Polly," she +said piteously. + +"The child is right; put them on," commanded Mrs. Pepper, for one +instant taking her thought from her boy; and Polly obeyed, and was gone. + +In the parsonage "best room" sat Mrs. Whitney. Her rocking-chair was +none of the easiest, being a hair-cloth affair, its cushion very much +elevated in the world just where it should have been depressed, so that +one was in constant danger of slipping off its surface; moreover, the +arms and back of the chair were covered with indescribable arrangements +made and presented by loving parishioners and demanding unceasing +attention from the occupant. But the chair was drawn up in the sunshine +pouring into the window, and Mrs. Whitney's thoughts were sunny, too; +for she smiled now and then as she drew her needle busily in and out +through the bright wools. + +"How restful it all is here, and so quaint and simple." She glanced up +now to the high-backed mantel with its wealth of daguerreotypes, and +surprising collection of dried leaves in tall china vases; and over the +walls, adorned with pine-cone framed pictures, to the center table +loaded with "Annuals," and one or two volumes of English poetry, and +then her gaze took in the little paths the winter sunshine was making +for itself along the red and green ingrain carpet. "I am so glad father +thought to bring us all. Dear father, it is making a new man of him, +this winter frolic. Why"-- + +She was looking out of the window now, and her hands fell to her lap as +Polly Pepper came running breathlessly down the village street, her +hood untied, and the coat grasped with one hand and held together +across her breast. But it was the face that terrified Mrs. Whitney, and +hurrying out of her chair, she ran out to the veranda as the girl +rushed through the gateway. + +"Polly, child," cried Mrs. Whitney, seizing her with loving arms and +drawing her on the steps--"oh! what is it, dear?" + +Polly's lips moved, but no words came. + +"Oh!" at last, "don't hate us for--bringing you to the--little--brown +house. Why did we come!" And convulsively she threw her young arms +around the kind neck. "Oh, Auntie! Dicky is hurt--but we don't know how +much--his legs, Joel says, but it may not be as bad as we think; dear +Auntie." + +Mrs. Whitney trembled so that she could scarcely stand. Around them +streamed the same winter sunshine that had been so bright a moment +since. How long ago it seemed. And out of gathering clouds in her heart +she was saying, "Polly dear, God is good. We will trust him." She did +not know her own voice, nor realize when Polly led her mercifully +within, as a farmer's wagon came slowly down the street, to stop at the +parsonage gate; nor even when Dick was brought in, white and still, +could she think of him as her boy. It was some other little figure, and +she must go and help them care for him. Her boy would come bounding in +presently, happy and ruddy, with a kiss for mamma, and a world of happy +nonsense, just as usual. It was only when Mrs. Henderson came in, and +took her hand to lead her into the next room, that it all came to her. + +"Oh, Dick!" and she sprang to the side of the sofa where he lay. "My +child--my child!" + +And then came Dr. Fisher, and the truth was known. One of Dick's legs +was broken below the knee; the other badly bruised. Only Jasper and the +mother remained in the room while the little doctor set the limb; and +after what seemed an age to the watchers, the boy came out. + +"He bore it like a Trojan," declared Jasper, wiping his forehead. "I +tell you, Dick's our hero, after this." + +"Now I should like to know how all this happened," demanded Mr. King. +The old gentleman had remained at the parsonage to get a good morning +nap while the snow frolic was in progress. And he had been awakened by +the unusual bustle below stairs in time to hear the welcome news that +Dicky was all right since Dr. Fisher was taking care of him. He now +presented himself in his dressing-gown, with his sleeping cap awry, +over a face in which anger, distress and impatience strove for the +mastery. "Speak up, my boy," to Jasper, "and tell us what you know +about it." + +"Well, the first thing I knew of any danger ahead," said Jasper, "was +hearing Dick sing out 'Hold up!' I supposed the double ripper all +right; didn't you, Ben?" + +"Yes," said Ben sturdily, "and it was all right; just exactly as we +used to make them, we boys; there wasn't a weak spot anywhere in her, +sir." + +"Who was steering?" demanded old Mr. King almost fiercely. + +"I was," said Van, beginning boldly enough, to let his voice die out in +a tremulous effort. + +"Humph--humph," responded Mr. King grimly. "A bad business," shaking +his head. + +"Van would"--began Percy, but his eye meeting Polly's he added, "We'd +none of us done any better, I don't believe, sir, than Van." + +Van was now choking so badly that the greatest kindness seemed to be +not to look at him. Accordingly the little company turned their eyes +away, and regarded each other instead. + +"Well, so Dick rolled off?" proceeded the old gentleman. + +"Oh! no, he didn't," said all three boys together; "he stuck fast to +the double ripper; we ran into a tree, and Dick was pitched off +head-first." + +"But honestly and truly, father," said Jasper, "I do not think that it +was the fault of the steerer." + +"Indeed it was not," declared Ben stoutly; "there was an ugly little +gully that we hadn't seen under the snow. We'd been down four or five +times all right, but only missed it by a hair-breadth; this time the +ripper struck into it; I suppose Dick felt it bump, as it was on his +side, and sang out, and as quick as lightning we were against that +tree. It was as much my fault as any one's, and more, because I ought +to have known that old hill thoroughly." + +"I share the blame, Ben," broke in Jasper, "old fellow, if you pitch +into yourself, you'll have to knock me over too." + +"Come here, Vanny," said old Mr. King, holding out his hand. "Why, you +needn't be afraid, my boy," aghast at the tears that no power on earth +could keep back. "Now all leave the room, please." + +"Where's Polly?" asked Ben, on the other side of the door. + +"She's run home," said David, "I guess. She isn't here." + +"And that's where I must be too," cried Ben, bounding off. + +When Van was next seen he was with old Mr. King, and wearing all signs +of having received his full share of comfort. Phronsie, just tying on +her little hood, to go down to the parsonage to ask after Dicky, looked +out of the window to exclaim in pleased surprise, "Why, here comes dear +Grandpapa," and then she rushed out to meet him. + +"Here's my little girl," cried the old gentleman, opening his arms, +when she immediately ran into them. "Now we're all right." + +"Is Dicky all right?" asked Phronsie anxiously, as she fell into step +by his side. + +"Yes, indeed; as well as a youngster can be, who's broken his leg." + +Phronsie shivered. "But then, that's nothing," Mr. King hastened to +add; "I broke my own when I was a small shaver no bigger than Dick, and +I was none the worse for it. Boys always have some such trifling +mishaps, Phronsie." + +"Ben never broke his leg, nor Joel, nor Davie," said Phronsie. "Must +they yet, Grandpapa?" + +"O dear, no," declared Mr. King hastily; "that isn't necessary. I only +meant they must have something. Now you see, Ben had the measles, you +know." + +"Yes, he did," said Phronsie, quite relieved to think that this trial +could take the place of the usual leg-breaking episode in a boy's +career. "And so did Joel, and Davie--all of them, Grandpapa dear." + +"Exactly; well, and then Ben had to work hard, and Joel and Davie too, +for that matter. So, you see, it wasn't as essential that they should +break their legs, child." + +"But Jasper and Percy and Van don't have to work hard; oh! I don't want +them to break their legs," said Phronsie, in a worried tone. "You don't +think they will, Grandpapa dear, do you? Please say they won't." + +"I don't think there is the least danger of it," said Mr. King, +"especially as I shall put an end to this double-ripper business, +though not because this upset was anybody's fault; remember that, +Phronsie." Van's head which had dropped a bit at the last words, came +up proudly. "Van, here, has acted nobly"--he put his hand on the boy's +shoulder--"and would have saved Dicky if he could. It was a pure +accident that nobody could help except by keeping off from the +abominable thing. Well, here we are at the little brown house; and +there's your mother, Phronsie, waiting for us in the doorway." + +"Halloo!" cried Van, rushing over the flat stone, and past Mrs. Pepper, +"where's Joel? Oh--here, you old chap!" + +"Well, Mrs. Pepper," said the old gentleman, coming up to the step, +Phronsie hanging to his hand, "this looks like starting for town +to-morrow, doesn't it?" + +"Oh! what shall we do, sir?" cried Mrs. Pepper, in distress. "To think +you have come down here in the goodness of your heart, to be met with +such an accident as this. What shall we do?" she repeated. + +"Goodness of my heart," repeated Mr. King, nevertheless well pleased at +the tribute. "I've had as much pleasure out of it all as you or the +young people. I want you to realize that." + +"So does any one who does a kind act," replied Mrs. Pepper, wiping her +eyes; "well, sir, now how shall we manage about going back?" + +"That remains to be seen," said Mr. King slowly, and he took a long +look at the winter sky, and the distant landscape before he ventured +more. "It very much looks as if we all should remain for a few days, to +see how Dick is to get on, all but the four boys; they must pack off to +school to-morrow, and then probably Mrs. Whitney will stay over with +the boy till he can be moved. Dr. Fisher will do the right thing by +him. Oh! everything is all right, Mrs. Pepper." + +Mrs. Pepper sighed and led the way into the house. She knew in spite of +the reassuring words that the extreme limit of the "outing" ought to be +passed on the morrow. + + + + +X + +THE PARTY SEPARATES + + +"Good-by to the little brown house!" Joel and David, Percy and Van sang +out in doleful chorus, from the old stage coach; two of the boys on the +seat shared by John Tisbett, the other two within as companions to Mrs. +Pepper and Jasper, who were going home to start the quartette off to +school. + +"Ben and I will take good care of everything, Mamsie," said Polly for +the fiftieth time, and climbing up on the steps to tuck the traveling +shawl closer. Thereupon Phronsie climbed up too, to do the same thing. +"Don't you worry; we'll take care of things," she echoed. + +"I shan't worry," said Mrs. Pepper in a bright assured way. "Mother +knows you'll both do just right. And Phronsie'll be a good girl too," +with a long look into the bright eyes peering over the window casing of +the old coach. + +"I'll try," said Phronsie. "Good-by, Mamsie," and she tried to stand on +tiptoe to reach her mouth up. + +"Goodness me!" cried Polly, "you nearly tumbled off the steps. Throw +her a kiss, Phronsie; Mamsie'll catch it." + +"If that child wants to kiss her ma agen, she shall do it," declared +Mr. Tisbett; and throwing down the reins, he sprang to the ground, +seized Phronsie, and swung her lightly over the window edge. "There you +be--went through just like a bird." And there she was, sure enough, in +Mrs. Pepper's lap. + +"I should like to go with you," Phronsie was whispering under Mrs. +Pepper's bonnet strings, "Mamsie, I should." + +"Oh, no, Phronsie!" Mrs. Pepper made haste to whisper back. "You must +stay with Polly. Why, what would she ever do without you? Be mother's +good girl, Phronsie; you're all coming home, except Auntie and Dick, in +a few days." + +Phronsie cast one look at Polly. "Good-by," she said slowly. "Take me +out now," holding her arms towards Mr. Tisbett. + +"Here you be!" exclaimed Mr. Tisbett merrily, reversing the process, +and setting her carefully on the ground. "Now, says I; up I goes," his +foot on the wheel to spring to the box. + +"Stay!" a peremptory hand was laid on his shaggy coat sleeve, and he +turned to face old Mr. King. + +"When I meet a man who can do such a kind thing, it is worth my while +to say that I trust no words of mine gave offense. Bless you, man!" +added the old gentleman, abruptly changing the tone of his address as +well as its form, "it's my way; that's all." + +John Tisbett had no words to offer, but remained, his foot on the +wheel, stupidly staring up at the handsome old face. + +"We shall be late for the train," called Jasper within the coach, "if +you don't start." + +"Get up, do!" cried Joel, who had seized the reins, "or I'll drive off +without you, Mr. Tisbett," which had the effect to carry honest John +briskly up to his place. When there, he took off his fur cap without a +word, and bowed to Mr. King, cracked his whip and they were off, +leaving the four on the little foot-path gazing after them, till the +coach was only a speck in the distance. + +"Mamma dear," said Dick, one afternoon three weeks later (the little +brown house had been closed a fortnight, and all the rest of the party +back in town), "when are we going home?" + +"Next week," said Mrs. Whitney brightly; "the doctor thinks if all goes +well, you can be moved from here." + +Dick leaned back in the big chintz-covered chair. "Mamma," he said, +"your cheeks aren't so pink, and not quite so round, but I think you +are a great deal nicer mamma than you were." + +"Do you, Dick?" she said, laughing. "Well, we have had a happy time +together, haven't we? The fortnight hasn't been so long for you as I +feared when the others all went away." + +"It hasn't been long at all," said Dick promptly, and burrowing deeper +into the chair-back; "it's just flown, mamma. I like Polly and +Phronsie; but I'd rather have you than any girl I know; I had really, +mamma." + +"I'm very glad to hear it, Dick," said Mrs. Whitney, with another laugh. + +"And when I grow up, I'm just going to live with you forever and ever. +Do you suppose papa will be always going to Europe then?" + +"I trust not," said Mrs. Whitney fervently. "Dicky, would you like to +have a secret?" she asked suddenly. + +The boy's eyes sparkled. "Wouldn't I mamma?" he cried, springing +forward in the chair; "ugh!" + +"Take care, darling," warned his mother. "You must remember the poor +leg." + +Dick made a grimace, but otherwise took the pain pluckily. "Tell me, +do, mamma," he begged, "the secret." + +"Yes, I thought it would be a pleasant thing for you to have it to +think of, darling, while you are getting well. Dicky, papa is coming +home soon." + +"Right away?" shouted Dick so lustily that Mrs. Henderson popped her +head in the door. "Oh! beg your pardon," she said; "I thought you +wanted something." + +"Isn't it lovely," cried Mrs. Whitney, "to have a boy who is beginning +to find his lungs?" + +"Indeed it is," cried the parson's wife, laughing; "I always picked up +heart when my children were able to scream. It's good to hear you, +Dicky," as she closed the door. + +"Is he--is he--is he?" cried Dick in a spasm of excitement, "coming +right straight away, mamma?" + +"Next week," said mamma, with happy eyes, "he sails in the Servia. Next +week, Dicky, my boy, we will see papa. And here is the best part of the +secret. Listen; it has all been arranged that Mr. Duyckink shall live +in Liverpool, so that papa will not have to go across any more, but he +can stay at home with us. Oh, Dicky!" + +That "Oh, Dicky!" told volumes to the boy's heart. + +"Mamma," he said at last, "isn't it good that God didn't give boys and +girls to Mr. Duyckink? Because you see if he had, why, then Mr. +Duyckink wouldn't like to live over there." + +"Mr. Duyckink might not have felt as your father does, Dicky dear, +about having his children educated at home; and Mrs. Duyckink wants to +go to England; she hasn't any father, as I have, Dicky dear, who clings +to the old home." + +"Only I wish God had made Mr. Duyckink and Mrs. Duyckink a little +sooner," said Dick reflectively. "I mean, made them want to go to +England sooner, don't you, mamma?" + +"I suppose we ought not to wish that," said his mother with a smile, +"for perhaps we needed to be taught to be patient. Only now, Dicky, +just think, we can actually have papa live at home with us!" + +"Your cheeks are pink now," observed Dick; "just the very pink they +used to be, mamma." + +Mrs. Whitney ran to the old-fashioned looking-glass hanging in its +pine-stained frame, between the low windows, and peered in. "Do I look +just as I did when papa went away six months ago, Dicky?" she asked, +anxiously. + +"Yes," said Dick, "just like that, only a great deal nicer," he added +enthusiastically. + +His mother laughed and pulled at a bright wave on her forehead, dodging +a bit to avoid a long crack running across the looking-glass front. + +"Here's Dr. Fisher!" shouted Dick suddenly. "Now, you old fellow, you," +and shaking his small fist at his lame leg, "you've got to get well, I +tell you. I won't wait much longer, sir!" And as the doctor came in, +"I've a secret." + +"Well, then, you would better keep it," said Dr. Fisher. "Good +morning," to Mrs. Whitney. "Our young man here is getting ahead pretty +fast, I should think. How's the leg, Dicky?" sitting down by him. + +"The leg is all right," cried Dick; "I'm going to step on it," trying +to get out of the chair. + +"Dicky!" cried his mother in alarm. + +"Softly--softly now, young man," said Dr. Fisher. "I suppose you want +me to cure that leg of yours, and make it as good as the other one, +don't you?" + +"Why, of course," replied Dick; "that's what you are a doctor for." + +"Well, I won't agree to do anything of the sort," said the little +doctor coolly, "if you don't do your part. Do you know what patience +means?" + +"I've been patient," exclaimed Dick, in a dudgeon, "forever and ever so +many weeks, and now papa is coming home, and I"-- + +And then he realized what he had done, and he turned quite pale, and +looked at his mother. + +Her face gave no sign, but he sank back in his chair, feeling disgraced +for life, and ready to keep quiet forever. And he was so good while Dr. +Fisher was attending to his leg that when he was through, the little +doctor turned to him approvingly: "Well, sir, I think that I can +promise that you can go home Saturday. You've improved beyond my +expectation." + +But Dick didn't "hurrah," nor even smile. + +"Dicky," said Mrs. Whitney, smiling into his downcast face, "how glad +we are to hear that; just think, good Dr. Fisher says we may go next +Saturday." + +"I'm glad," mumbled Dick, in a forlorn little voice, and till after the +door closed on the retreating form of the doctor, it was all that could +be gotten out of him. Then he turned and put out both arms to his +mother. + +"I didn't mean--I didn't mean--I truly didn't mean--to tell--mamma," he +sobbed, as she clasped him closely. + +"I know you didn't, dear," she soothed him. "It has really done no +harm; papa didn't want the home people to know, as he wants to surprise +them." + +"But it was a secret," said Dick, between his tears, feeling as if he +had lost a precious treasure entrusted to him. "Oh, mamma! I really +didn't mean to let it go." + +"Mamma feels quite sure of that," said Mrs. Whitney gently. "You are +right, Dicky, in feeling sorry and ashamed, because anything given to +you to keep is not your own but belongs to another; but, my boy, the +next duty is to keep back those tears--all this is hurting your leg." + +Dick struggled manfully, but still the tears rolled down his cheeks. At +last he said, raising his head, "You would much better let me have my +cry out, mamma; it's half-way, and it hurts to send it back." + +"Well, I don't think so," said Mrs. Whitney, with a laugh. "I've often +wanted to have a cry out, as you call it. But that's weak, Dicky, and +should be stopped, for the more one cries, the more one wants to." + +"You've often wanted to have a cry out?" repeated Dick, in such +amazement that every tear just getting ready to show itself immediately +rushed back again. "Why, you haven't anything to cry for, mamma." + +"Indeed I have," she declared; "often and often, I do many things that +I ought not to do"-- + +"Oh! never, never," cried Dick, clutching her around the neck, to the +detriment of her lace-trimmed wrapper. "My sweetest, dearingest mamma +is ever and always just right." + +"Indeed, Dick," said Mrs. Whitney earnestly, "the longer I live, I find +that every day I have something to be sorry for in myself. But God, you +know, is good," she whispered softly. + +Dick was silent. + +"And then when papa goes," continued Mrs. Whitney, "why, then, my boy, +it is very hard not to cry." + +Here was something that the boy could grasp; and he seized it with +avidity. + +"And you stop crying for us," he cried; "I know now why you always put +on your prettiest gown, and play games with us the evening after papa +goes. I know now." + +"Here are three letters," cried the parson, hurrying in, and tossing +them over to the boy. "And Polly Pepper has written to me, too." + +Dick screamed with delight. "Two for me; one from Ben, and one from +Grandpapa!" + +"And mine is from Phronsie," said Mrs. Whitney, seizing an epistle +carefully printed in blue crayon. + +But although there were three letters from home, none of them carried +the news of what was going on there. None of them breathed a syllable +that Cousin Eunice Chatterton was ill with a low fever, aggravated by +nervous prostration; and that Mrs. Pepper and Polly were having a +pretty hard time of it. On the contrary, every bit of news was of the +cheeriest nature; Jasper tucked on a postscript to his father's letter, +in which he gave the latest bulletin of his school life. And Polly did +the same thing to Ben's letter. Even Phronsie went into a long detail +concerning the new developments of a wonderful kitten she had left at +home, to take her visit to Badgertown, so the two recipients never +missed the lack of information in regard to the household life, from +which they were shut out. + +Only once Mrs. Whitney said thoughtfully, as she folded her letter and +slipped it back into its envelope, "They don't speak of Mrs. +Chatterton. I presume she has changed her plans, and is going to remain +longer at her nephew's." + +"I hope she'll live there always," declared Dick, looking up savagely +from Ben's letter. "What an old guy she is, mamma!" + +"Dick, Dick," said his mother reprovingly, "she is our guest, you know." + +"Not if she is at her nephew's," said Dick triumphantly, turning back +to his letter. + +Polly at this identical minute was slowly ascending the stairs, a tray +in one hand, the contents of which she was anxiously regarding on the +way. + +"I do hope it is right now," she said, and presently knocked at Mrs. +Chatterton's door. + +"Come in," said that lady's voice fretfully. And "Do close the door," +before Polly and her tray were well within. + +Polly shut the door gently, and approached the bedside. + +"I am so faint I do not know that I can take any," said Mrs. +Chatterton. Whether it was her white cashmere dressing-robe, and her +delicate lace cap that made her face against the pillows seem wan and +white, Polly did not know. But it struck her that she looked more ill +than usual, and she said earnestly, "I am so sorry I wasn't quicker." + +"There is no call for an apology from you," said Mrs. Chatterton +coldly. "Set the tray down on the table, and get a basin of water; I +need to be bathed." + +Polly stood quite still, even forgetting to deposit the tray. + +"Set the tray down, I told you," repeated Mrs. Chatterton sharply, "and +then get the basin of water." + +"I will call Hortense," said Polly quietly, placing the tray as desired. + +"Hortense has gone to the apothecary's," said Mrs. Chatterton, "and I +will not have one of the other maids; they are too insufferable." + +And indeed Polly knew that it would be small use to summon one of them, +as Martha, the most obliging, had airily tossed her head when asked to +do some little service for the sick woman that very morning, declaring, +"I will never lift another finger for that Madame Chatterton." + +"My neck aches, and my side, and my head," said Mrs. Chatterton +irritably; "why do you not do as I bid you?" + +For one long instant, Polly hesitated; then she turned to rush from the +room, a flood of angry, bitter feelings surging through her heart, more +at the insufferable tone and manner, than at what she was bidden to do. +Only turned; and she was back by the side of the bed, and looking down +into the fretful, dictatorial old face. + +"I will bathe you, Mrs. Chatterton," she said gently; "I'll bring the +water in a minute." + + + + +XI + +POOR POLLY! + + +"You are very awkward, child," observed Mrs. Chatterton to Polly on her +knees, "and abrupt. Move the sponge more slowly; there, that is better." + +Polly shifted her position from one aching knee to another, set her +lips closer together, and bent all her young energies to gentler +effects. But Mrs. Chatterton cried out irritably: + +"Have you never taken care of a sick person, pray tell, or is it all +your back-country training that makes you so heavy-handed?" + +"I helped mother take care of Phronsie when she had the measles, and +Ben and Joel," said Polly, "five years ago; we haven't been sick +lately." + +"Humph!" ejaculated Mrs. Chatterton, not very elegantly. But what was +the use of a fine manner when there was nobody but a little +back-country maiden to see it? + +"I shall have to endure it till Hortense returns," she said with a +sigh; "besides, it is my duty to give you something useful to do in +this house. You should be thankful that I allow you to bathe me." + +Polly's eyes flashed, and the hand holding the sponge trembled. Nothing +but the fear of troubling Mamsie, and dear old Mr. King whose +forbearance was worn to the finest of threads, kept her at her post. + +"Now get the violet water," said Mrs. Chatterton, with an air she would +never have dared employ towards Hortense; "it is the bottle in the +lower left-hand corner of the case." + +Polly got up from her knees, and stiffly stumbled across the room to +the case of silver-mounted toilet articles: in her tumult bringing away +the upper right-hand corner vial. + +"Stupide!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton among her pillows. "Go back, and +do as I bid you, girl; the lower left-hand corner bottle!" + +Without a word Polly returned, and bringing the right vial set about +its use as directed, in a rapidly growing dismay at the evil feelings +surging through her, warning her it would not be safe to stay in the +room much longer. + +"Do you understand," presently began Mrs. Chatterton, fastening her +cold blue eyes upon her, "what your position is in this house? +Everybody else appears to be blind and idiotic to the last degree; you +seem to have a little quickness to catch an idea." + +As Polly did not answer, the question was repeated very sharply: "Do +you understand what your position is in this house?" + +"Yes," said Polly, in a low voice, and dashing out the violet water +with a reckless hand, "I do." + +"Take care," impatiently cried Mrs. Chatterton. Then she pushed her +pillow into a better position, and returned to the charge. + +"What is it, pray, since you understand it so well?" + +"I understand that I am here in this house," said Polly, quite cold and +white, "because dear Mr. King wants me to be here." + +"DEAR Mr. King!" echoed Mrs. Chatterton, in shrill disdain. "Stuff and +nonsense," and she put her head back for an unpleasant cackle; it could +hardly be called a laugh. "What an idiot the man is to have the wool +pulled over his eyes in this fashion. I'll tell you, Polly"--and she +raised herself up on her elbow, the soft lace falling away from the +white, and yet shapely arm. This member had been one of her strongest +claims to beauty, and even in her rage, Mrs. Chatterton paused a second +to glance complacently at it in its new position--"you are, when all is +said about your dear Mr. King, and your absurd assumption of equality +with refined people who frequent this house, exactly the same underbred +country girl as you were in your old brown house, goodness knows +wherever that is." + +"I'm glad I am," declared Polly. And she actually laughed merrily, +while she squared her sturdy shoulders. Nothing could be sweeter than +to hear it said she was worthy of the dear little old brown house, and +didn't disgrace Mamsie's bringing up. + +The laugh was the last feather that overthrew Mrs. Chatterton's +restraint. She was actually furious now that she, widow of Algernon +Chatterton, who was own cousin to Jasper Horatio King, should be faced +by such presumption, and her words put aside with girlish amusement. + +"And I'll tell you more," she went on, sitting quite erect now on the +bed, "your mother thinks she is doing a fine thing to get all her +family wormed in here in this style, but she'll"-- + +Polly Pepper, the girlish gladness gone from heart and face, waited for +no more. "OUR MOTHER!" she cried stormily, unable to utter another +word--"oh--oh!" Her breath came in quick, short gasps, the hot +indignant blood mounting to the brown waves of hair on her brow, while +she clasped her hands so tightly together, the pain at any other time +would have made her scream. + +Mrs. Chatterton, aghast at the effect of her words, leaned back once +more against her pillows. "Don't try to work up a scene," she +endeavored to say carelessly. But she might as well have remonstrated +with the north wind. The little country maiden had a temper as well as +her own, and all the more for its long restraint, now on breaking +bounds, it rushed at the one who had provoked it, utterly regardless +that it was the great Mrs. Algernon Chatterton. + +For two minutes, so breathlessly did Polly hurl the stinging sentences +at the figure on the bed, Cousin Eunice was obliged to let her have her +own way. Then as suddenly, the torrent ceased. Polly grew quite white. +"What have I done--oh! what have I done?" she cried, and rushed out of +the room. + +"Polly--Polly!" called Jasper's voice below. She knew he wanted her to +try a new duet he had gone down town to purchase; but how could she +play with such a storm in her heart? and, worse than all else, was the +consciousness that she had spoken to one whose gray hairs should have +made her forget the provocation received, words that now plunged her +into a hot shame to recall. + +She flew over the stairs--up, away from every one's sight, to a long, +dark lumber room, partially filled with trunks, and a few articles of +furniture, prized as heirlooms, but no longer admissible in the family +apartments. Polly closed the door behind her, and sank down in the +shadow of a packing box half filled with old pictures, in a distress +that would not even let her think. She covered her face with her hands, +too angry with herself to cry; too aghast at the mischief she had done, +to even remember the dreadful words Mrs. Chatterton had said to her. + +"For of course, now she will complain to Mamsie, and I'm really afraid +Mr. King will find it out; and it only needs a little thing to make him +send her off. He said yesterday Dr. Valentine told him there was +nothing really the matter with her--and--dear! I don't know what will +happen." + +To poor Polly, crouching there on the floor in the dim and dusty +corner, it seemed as if her wretchedness held no hope. Turn whichever +way she might, the dreadful words she had uttered rang through her +heart. They could not be unsaid; they were never to be forgotten but +must always stay and rankle there. + +"Oh--oh!" she moaned, clasping her knees with distressed little palms, +and swaying back and forth, "why didn't I remember what Mamsie has +always told us--that no insult can do us harm if only we do not say or +do anything in return. Why--why couldn't I have remembered it?" + +How long she stayed there she never knew. But at last, realizing that +every moment there was only making matters worse, she dragged herself +up from the little heap on the floor, and trying to put a bit of +cheerfulness into a face she knew must frighten Mamsie, she went slowly +out, and down the stairs. + +But no one looked long enough at her face to notice its change of +expression. Polly, the moment she turned towards the household life +again, could feel that the air was charged with some intense +excitement. Hortense met her on the lower stairs; the maid was startled +out of her usual nonchalance, and was actually in a hurry. + +"What is the matter?" cried Polly. + +"Oh! the Madame is eel," said the maid; "the doctaire says it is not a +lie dees time," and she swept past Polly. + +Polly clung to the stair-railing, her face whitening, and her gaze +fastened upon Mrs. Chatterton's door, where Hortense was now +disappearing. Inside, was a sound of voices, and that subdued stir that +gives token of a sick room. + +"I have killed her!" cried Polly's heart. For one wild moment she was +impelled to flight; anywhere, she did not care where, to shake off by +motion in the free air this paralysis of fear. But the next she started +and, rushing down the stairs and into Mr. King's room, cried out, "Oh! +dear Grandpapa, will Mrs. Chatterton die?" + +"No, no, I think not," replied the old gentleman, surprised at her +feeling. "Cousin Eunice never did show much self-control; but then, I +don't believe this piece of bad news will kill her." + +"Bad news?" gasped Polly, hanging to the table where Mr. King was +writing letters. "Oh, Grandpapa! what do you mean?" + +"Bless me! where have you been, Polly Pepper," said Mr. King, settling +his eyeglass to regard her closely, "not to hear the uproar in this +house? Yes, Mrs. Chatterton received a telegram a half-hour since that +her nephew, the only one that she was very fond of among her relatives, +was drowned at sea, and she has been perfectly prostrated by it, till +she really is quite ill." + +Polly waited to hear no more, but on the wings of the wind, flew out +and up the stairs once more. + +"Where have you been, Polly?" cried Jasper, coming out of a side +passage in time to catch a dissolving view of her flying figure. +"Polly--Polly!" and he took three steps to her one, and gained her side. + +"Oh! don't stop me," begged Polly, flying on, "don't, Jasper." + +He took a good look at her face. "Anything I can help you about?" he +asked quickly. + +She suddenly stopped, her foot on the stair above. "Oh, Jasper!" she +cried, with clasped hands, "you don't know--she may die, and I said +horribly cruel things to her." + +"Who--Mrs. Chatterton?" said the boy, opening his dark eyes; "why, you +couldn't have said cruel things to her, Polly. Don't be foolish, +child." He spoke as he would to Phronsie's terror, and smiled into her +face. But it did not reassure Polly. + +"Jasper, you don't know; you can't guess what dreadful things I said," +cried poor overwhelmed Polly, clasping her hands tightly together at +the mere thought of the words she had uttered. + +"Then she must have said dreadful things to you," said the boy. + +"She--but, oh, Jasper! that doesn't make it any better for me," said +Polly. "Don't stop me; I am going to see if they won't let me do +something for her." + +"There are ever so many people up there now," said Jasper. "Your +mother, and Hortense, and two or three maids. What in the world could +you do, Polly? Come down into the library, and tell us all about it." + +But Polly broke away from him with an "Oh! I must do something for +her," speeding on until she softly worked her way into the sick room. + +Mrs. Pepper was busy with the doctor in the further part of the room, +and Polly stood quite still for a moment, wishing she were one of the +maids, to whom a bit of active service was given. She could not longer +endure her thoughts in silence, and gently going up to her mother's +side, with a timorous glance at the bed, as she passed it, she begged, +"Mamsie, can't I do something for her?" + +Mrs. Pepper glanced up quickly. "No--yes, you can; take this +prescription down to Oakley's to be prepared." + +Polly seized the bit of paper from Dr. Valentine's hand, and hurried +out. Again she glanced fearfully at the bed, but the curtain on that +side was drawn so that only the outline of the figure could be seen. +She was soon out on the street, the movement through the fresh air +bringing back a little color to her cheek and courage to her heart. +Things did not seem quite so bad if she only might do something for the +poor sick woman that could atone for the wretched work she had done; at +least it would be some comfort if the invalid could be helped by her +service. + +Thus revolving everything in her mind, Polly did not hear her name +called, nor rapid footsteps hurrying after. + +"Wait!" at last cried a voice; "O, dear me! what is the matter, Polly?" +Alexia Rhys drew herself up flushed and panting at Polly's side. + +"I'm on the way to the apothecary's," said Polly, without looking +around. + +"So I should suppose," said Alexia; "O, dear! I'm so hot and tired. Do +go a bit slower, Polly." + +"I can't," said Polly. "She's very sick, and I must get this just as +soon as I can." She waved the prescription at her, and redoubled her +speed. + +"Who?" gasped Alexia, stumbling after as best she could. + +"Mrs. Chatterton," said Polly, a lump in her throat as she uttered the +name. + +"O, dear me! that old thing," cried Alexia, her enthusiasm over the +errand gone. + +"Hush!" said Polly hoarsely; "she may die. She has had bad news." + +"What?" asked Alexia; the uncomfortable walk might be enlivened by a +bit of stray gossip; "what is it, Polly? What news?" + +"A telegram," said Polly. "Her favorite nephew was drowned at sea." + +"Oh! I didn't know she had any favorite nephew. Doesn't she fight with +everybody?" + +"Do be quiet," begged Polly. "No; that is, perhaps, other people are +not kind to her." + +"Oh!" said Alexia, in a surprised voice. "Well, I think she's perfectly +and all-through-and-through horrid, so! Don't race like this through +the streets, Polly. You'll get there soon enough." + +But Polly turned a deaf ear, and at last the prescription was handed +over the counter at Oakley's, and after what seemed an endless time to +Polly, the medicine was given to her. + +"Now as soon as you carry that thing home," observed Alexia, glancing +at the white parcel in Polly's hand, "I hope you'll come with us girls. +That's what I ran after you for." + +"What girls?" asked Polly. + +"Why, Philena and the Cornwalls; we are going to have a sleighing party +to-night, and a supper at Lilly Drexell's. Mrs. Cornwall chaperones the +thing." + +Polly was surprised to feel her heart bound. It hadn't seemed as if it +could ever be moved by any news of girlish frolics, but that its dull +ache must go on forever. + +"Oh! I can't," she cried the next moment. "I must stay at home, and +help take care of Mrs. Chatterton." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Alexia in a provoked tone; "you are not wanted +there, Polly Pepper; the idea, with that great house full of servants." + +"Well, I shall not go," declared Polly sharply; "you needn't ask me, +Alexia. I shall stay home till she gets well." + +"You little idiot!" cried Alexia, thoroughly out of temper. But as this +produced no effect on Polly, she began to wheedle and coax. "Now, +Polly, do be reasonable. You know we can't go without you; you wouldn't +spoil the whole thing; you know you wouldn't. I shall just tell the +Cornwalls that you are coming," and she turned off to the corner of the +avenue. + +"Indeed you will not," called Polly after her. "Don't you dare do that, +Alexia Rhys," she said, with flashing eyes. + +"You are the most uncomfortable girl I ever saw," cried Alexia, +stopping, to come slowly back. "You spoil every bit of fun with your +absurd notions. I'm quite, quite put out with you, Polly." + +"I'm sorry," said poor Polly, fairly longing for the snow-revel, and +dismayed at disappointing the girls. + +"No, you're not," pouted Alexia, "and I shall tell them all so," and +she broke away and ran off in the opposite direction. + +Polly was met at the door by Mrs. Pepper, who grasped the packet of +medicine quickly. + +"Isn't there anything else I can do, Mamsie?" begged Polly. + +"No; sit down and rest; you're hot and tired, you've run so." + +"I'm not tired," said Polly, not daring to ask "Is she better?" + +"Well, you must be," said Mrs. Pepper, hurrying off, "going all the way +down to Oakley's." + +So Polly had nothing to do but to sit out in the hall, and listen and +watch all the movements in the sick room, every one of which but +increased her terror. At least she could bear it no longer, and as Dr. +Valentine came out, putting on his gloves, she rushed after him. + +"Oh! will she die?" she begged; "please do tell me, sir?" + +"Die? no indeed, I hope not," said Dr. Valentine. "She has had a severe +shock to her nerves and her age is against her, but she is coming +around all right, I trust. Why, Polly, I thought better things of you, +my girl." He glanced down into the distressed face with professional +disfavor. + +"I'm so glad she won't die," breathed Polly, wholly lost to his opinion +of her; and her face gleamed with something of her old brightness. + +"I didn't know you were so fond of her," observed Dr. Valentine grimly; +"indeed, to speak truthfully, I have yet to learn that anybody is fond +of her, Polly." + +"Now if you really want to help her," he continued thoughtfully, +pulling his beard, as Polly did not answer, "I can give you one or two +hints that might be of use." + +"Oh! I do, I do," cried Polly with eagerness. + +"It will be tiresome work," said Dr. Valentine, "but it will be a piece +of real charity, and perhaps, Polly, it's as well for you to begin now +as to wait till you can belong to forty charity clubs, and spend your +time going to committee meetings." And he laughed not altogether +pleasantly. How was Polly to know that Mrs. Valentine was immersed up +to her ears in a philanthropic sea with the smallest possible thought +for the doctor's home? "Now that maid," said the physician, dropping +his tone to a confidential one, "is as well as the average, but she's +not the one who is to amuse the old lady. It's that she needs more than +medicine, Polly. She actually requires diversion." + +Poor Polly stood as if turned to stone. Diversion! And she had thrown +away all chance of that. + +"She is suffering for the companionship of some bright young nature," +Dr. Valentine proceeded, attributing the dismay written all over the +girl's face to natural unwillingness to do the service. "After she gets +over this attack she needs to be read to for one thing; to be told the +news; to be made to forget herself. But of course, Polly," he said +hastily, buttoning his top coat, and opening the outer door, "it's too +much to ask of you; so think no more about it, child." + + + + +XII + +NEW WORK FOR POLLY + + +It was Saturday morning, and Polly ran upstairs with a bright face, the +morning Journal in her hand. "I'm going to stay with Mrs. Chatterton, +Hortense," she announced to that functionary in the dressing-room. + +"And a comfairte may it gif to you," said Hortense, with a vicious +shake of the silk wrapper in her hand, before hanging it in its place. +"Madame has the tres diablerie, cross as de two steeks, what you call +it, dis morning." + +Polly went softly into the room, closing the door gently after her. In +the shadow of one corner of the large apartment, sat Mrs. Chatterton +under many wrappings in the depths of an invalid's chair. Polly went up +to her side. + +"Would you like to have me read the news, Mrs. Chatterton?" she asked +gently. + +Mrs. Chatterton turned her head and looked at her. "No," she was about +to say shortly, just as she had repulsed many little offers of Polly's +for the past few days; but somehow this morning the crackling of the +fresh sheet in the girl's hand, suggestive of crisp bits of gossip, was +too much for her to hear indifferently, especially as she was in a +worse state of mind than usual over Hortense and her bad temper. + +"You may sit down and read a little, if you like," she said +ungraciously. So Polly, happy as a queen at the permission, slipped +into a convenient chair, and began at once. She happened fortunately on +just the right things for the hungry ears; a description of a large +church wedding, the day before; two or three bits about society people +that Mrs. Chatterton had lost sight of, and a few other items just as +acceptable. + +Polly read on and on, from one thing to another, not daring to look up +to see the effect, until at last everything in the way of gossip was +exhausted. + +"Is that all?" asked Mrs. Chatterton hungrily. + +Polly, hunting the columns for anything, even a murder account if it +was but in high life, turned the paper again disconsolately, obliged to +confess it was. + +"Well, do put it by, then," said Mrs. Chatterton sharply, "and not +whirl it before my face; it gives me a frightful headache." + +"I might get the Town Talk" suggested Polly, as a bright thought struck +her. "It came yesterday. I saw it on the library table." + +"So it is Saturday." Mrs. Chatterton looked up quickly. "Yes, you may, +Polly," her mouth watering for the revel she would have in its contents. + +So Polly ran over the stairs with delighted feet, and into the library, +beginning to rummage over the papers and magazines on the reading table. + +"Where is it?" she exclaimed, turning them with quick fingers. "O dear! +it was right here last evening." + +"What is it?" asked Phronsie, from the depths of a big arm-chair, and +looking up from her book. Then she saw as soon as she had asked the +question that Polly was in trouble, so she laid down her book, and slid +out of the chair. "What is it, Polly? Let me help you, do." + +"Why, the Town Talk--that hateful old society thing," said Polly, +throwing the papers to right and left. "You know, Phronsie; it has a +picture of a bottle of ink, and a big quill for a heading. O dear! do +help me, child, for she will get nervous if I am gone long." + +"Oh! I know where that is," said Phronsie deliberately, laying a cool +little hand on Polly's hot one. + +"Where?" demanded Polly feverishly. "Oh, Phronsie! where?" + +"Jack Rutherford has it." + +Polly threw down the papers, and started for the door. + +"He has gone," said Phronsie; "he went home almost an hour ago." + +Polly turned sharply at her. "What did he want Town Talk for?" + +"He said it was big, and he asked Grandpapa if he might have it, and +Grandpapa said, Yes. I don't know what he wanted it for," said +Phronsie. "And he took other newspapers, too, Polly; oh! ever so many." + +"Well, I don't care how many he took, nor what they were," cried Polly, +"only that very identical one. O dear me! Well, I'll ask Jasper." + +And rushing from the library, Phronsie following in a small panic over +Polly's distress, she knocked at the door of Jasper's den, a little +room in the wing, looking out on the east lawn. + +"Oh! I am so glad you are here," she exclaimed as "Come in!" greeted +her, and both Phronsie and she precipitated themselves with no show of +ceremony, in front of his study table. "O Jasper! could you get me a +copy of "Town Talk?" Jack Rutherford has gone off with ours." + +"Town Talk!" repeated Jasper, raising his head from his hands to stare +at her. + +"Yes; Jack has taken ours off; Grandpapa gave it to him. Can you, +Jasper? Will it break up your study much?" she poured out anxiously. + +"No--that is--never mind," said Jasper, pushing the book away and +springing from his chair. "But whatever in the world do you want that +trash for?" He turned, and looked at her curiously. + +"Mrs. Chatterton will let me read it to her; she said so," cried Polly, +clasping her hands nervously, "but if I don't get the paper soon, why, +I'm afraid she'll change her mind." + +Jasper gave a low whistle as he flung himself into his coat. +"Inestimable privilege!" he exclaimed at last, tossing on his cap. + +"Oh, Jasper! you are so good," cried Polly in a small rapture. "I'm so +sorry to have to ask you." + +"I'll go for you, Jasper," declared Phronsie; "Mamsie will let me; I +almost know she will." + +"No, no, Phronsie," said Jasper, as she was flying off; "it isn't any +place for you to go to. I shall get one at the hotel--the Allibone. +I'll be back in a trice, Polly." + +Polly went out, and sat down in one of the big oaken chairs in the hall +to seize it as it came, and Phronsie deposited herself in an opposite +chair, and watched Polly. And presently in came Jasper, waving the +desired journal. Polly, with a beaming face, grasped it and rushed off +upstairs. + +"Polly," called the boy, looking after her, "it isn't too late now for +you to go with them. Lucy Bennett met me at the corner and she said +they will take the twelve o'clock train, instead of the eleven, and she +wanted me to beg you to come." + +"No, no," tossed back Polly, rushing on, "I am quite determined to stay +at home." Then she went into Mrs. Chatterton's room, and closed the +door. But she couldn't so easily shut out the longings that would rise +in her heart for the Saturday outing that the other girls were to have. +How lovely it would be! the run out to Silvia Horne's charming house +some ten miles distant; the elegant luncheon they would have, followed +by games, and a dance in the ball-room upstairs, that Silvia's older +sisters used for their beautiful parties. Then the merry return before +dusk, of the twelve girls, all capital friends at school! Oh--oh! + +"You've been an unconscionable time," exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton in a +sharp, high key, "just to get a paper. Well, do sit down; I am quite +tired waiting for you." + +Polly sat down, and resolutely plunged into the column where the news +items promised the most plentiful yield but in between the lines ran +the doings of the girls: how they were all assembling by this time at +Lucy Bennett's; how they were hurrying off to the train, and all the +other delightful movements of the "outing" flashed before her eyes, as +she finished item after item of her dreary task. But how Mrs. +Chatterton gloated over it! + +At last Polly, feeling as if she could not endure another five minutes +of it, glanced up to see the old lady's eyes actually sparkling; her +mouth had fallen into contented curves, and the jeweled hand resting on +the chair-arm was playing with the fringe, while she leaned forward +that she might not lose a word. + +"Read that again, Polly," she said, "the list of presents exhibited at +Arabella Granger's wedding. I didn't hear any mention of the +Archibalds. It can't be that they have fallen out; and read more +slowly." + +So Polly began once more the long lists of gifts that ushered in the +matrimonial happiness of Mrs. John Westover nee Miss Arabella Granger; +this time, however, stimulated by the pleasure she was giving, to find +it an endurable task. + +It seemed to Polly as if Mrs. John Westover had everything on earth +given to her that could possibly be presented at a wedding; +nevertheless the list was gone through again bravely, Polly retracing +her steps two or three times to read the items over for her listener's +slow digestion. + +"The Archibalds are not mentioned, either as being there or sending a +gift, nor the Harlands, nor the Smythes, so I am very glad I didn't +remember her," said Mrs. Chatterton, drawing herself up with a relieved +sigh. "Those presents sound fine on paper, but it isn't as well as she +might have done if she had made a different match. Now something else, +Polly," and she dismissed Mrs. Westover with a careless wave of her +hand. Polly flew off into the fashion hints, and was immediately lost +in the whirl of coming toilets. No one noticed when the door opened, so +of course no one saw Mrs. Whitney standing smiling behind the old +lady's big chair. + +"Well, Polly," said a pleasant voice suddenly. + +Down went Town Talk to the floor as Polly sprang up with a glad cry, +and Mrs. Chatterton turned around nervously. + +"Oh, Auntie--Auntie!" cried Polly, convulsively clinging to her, "are +you really here, and is Dicky home?" + +"Dear child," said Mrs. Whitney, as much a girl for the moment as Polly +herself. And pressing kisses on the red lips, while she folded her +close--"Yes, Dick is at home. There, go and find him; he is in Mrs. +Pepper's room." + +"I am glad to see you so much better, Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. +Whitney, leaning over the invalid's chair to lay the tenderest of palms +on the hand resting on the chair-arm. + +"Oh, yes, Marian; I am better," said Mrs. Chatterton, looking around +for Polly, then down at the delicious Town Talk carelessly thrown on +the floor. "Will you send her back as soon as possible?" she asked with +her old imperativeness. + +"Who--Polly?" said Mrs. Whitney, following the glance. "Why, she has +gone to see Dick, you know. Now, why cannot I read a bit?" and she +picked up the paper. + +"You don't know what has been read," said Mrs. Chatterton as Mrs. +Whitney drew up a chair and sat down, running her eye in a practiced +way over the front page. "Dear me, it makes me quite nervous, Marian, +to see you prowling around all over the sheet that way." + +"Oh! I shall find something interesting quite soon, I fancy," said Mrs. +Whitney cheerfully, her heart on her boy and the jolly home-coming he +was having. "Here is the Washington news; I mean all about the +receptions and teas." + +"She has read that," said Mrs. Chatterton. + +"Now for the fashion department." Mrs. Whitney whirled the paper over +dexterously. "Do you know, Mrs. Chatterton, gray stuffs are to be worn +more than ever this spring?" + +"I don't care about that," said Mrs. Chatterton quickly, "and besides, +quite likely there'll be a complete revolution before spring really +sets in, and gray stuffs will go out. Find some description of tea +gowns, can't you? I must have one or two more." + +"And here are some wonderfully pretty caps, if they are all like the +descriptions," said Mrs. Whitney, unluckily dropping on another +paragraph. + +"Caps! who wants to hear about them?" cried Mrs. Chatterton in a +dudgeon. "I hope I'm not at the cap period yet." + +"Oh! those lovely little lace arrangements," said Mrs. Whitney hastily; +"don't you know how exquisite they are at Pinaud's?" she cried. + +"I'm sure I never noticed," said Mrs. Chatterton indifferently. +"Hortense always arranges my hair better without lace. If you can't +find what I ask you, Marian," raising her voice to a higher key, "you +needn't trouble to read at all." + +Fortunately the description of the gown worn by Lady Hartly Cavendish +at a London high tea, stood out in bold relief, as Mrs. Whitney's eyes +nervously ran over the columns again, and she seized upon it. + +But in just two moments she was interrupted. "Send that girl back +again, Marian," cried Mrs. Chatterton. "I had just got her trained so +that she suits me. It tires me to death to hear you." + +"I do not know whether Polly can come now," said Mrs. Whitney gently; +"she"-- + +"Do not know whether Polly can come!" repeated Mrs. Chatterton sharply, +and leaning forward in her chair. "Didn't I say I wanted her?" + +"You did." Marian's tone did not lose a note of its ordinary +gentleness. "But I shall ask her if she is willing to do it as a favor, +Mrs. Chatterton; you quite understand that, of course?" She, too, +leaned forward in her chair, and gazed into the cold, hard face. + +"Just like your father," cried Mrs. Chatterton, settling herself +irascibly back in the chair-depths again. "There is no hope that +affairs in this house will mend. I wash my hands of you." + +"I am so glad that you consider me like my father," said Mrs. Whitney +gleefully as a child. "We surely are united on this question." + +"May I read some more?" cried Polly, coming in softly, and trying to +calm the impetuous rush of delight as her eyes met Mrs. Whitney's. + +"Yes; I am waiting for you," said Mrs. Chatterton. "Begin where you +left off." + +Mrs. Whitney bit her pretty lips and slipped out of her chair, just +pausing a moment to lay her hand on the young shoulder as she passed, +and a world of comfort fell upon Polly, shut in once more to her dreary +task. + +"How perfectly splendid that I didn't go to Silvia Home's luncheon +party now!" cried Polly's heart over and over between the lines. "If I +had, I should have missed dear Auntie's home-coming, and Dicky's." She +glanced up with luminous eyes as she whirled the sheet. Mrs. +Chatterton, astonishing as it may seem, was actually smiling. + +"It's some comfort to hear you read," she observed with a sigh of +enjoyment, "because you enjoy it yourself. I wouldn't give a fig for +anybody to try to do it." + +Polly felt like a guilty little thing to take this quietly, and she +eased her conscience by being more glad that she was in that very room +doing that very task. And so the moments sped on. + +Outside, Dick was holding high revel as every one revolved around him, +the hero of the coasting accident, till the boy ran considerable danger +from all the attention he was receiving. But one glance and a smile +from Mrs. Whitney brought him back to himself. + +"Don't talk any more about it," he cried a trifle impatiently. "I was a +muff to stick on, when I knew we were going over. Mamma, won't you stop +them?" + +And she did. + +"Do you know, Dicky and I have a secret to tell all of you good +people." The color flew into her soft cheek, and her eyes beamed. + +"Really, Marian," said her father, whose hand had scarcely ceased +patting Dick's brown head since the boy's home-coming, "you've grown +young in Badgertown. I never saw you look so well as you do to-day." + +Mrs. Whitney laughed and tossed him a gay little smile, that carried +him back to the days when Marian King stood before him looking just so. + +"Now listen, father, and all you good people, to my secret--Dicky's and +mine; we are allowed to tell it now. Papa Whitney sailed in the Servia, +and he ought to be in to-day!" + +A shout of joy greeted her announcement. Polly, off in her prison, +could hear the merry sounds, and her happy heart echoed them. The +misery of the past week, when she had been bearing an unatoned fault, +seemed to drop away from her as she listened, and to say, "Life holds +sunshine yet." + +Then a hush dropped upon the gay uproar. She did not know that Dicky +was proclaiming "Yes, and he is never, never going back again. That is, +unless he takes mamma and me, you know." + +Mrs. Chatterton turned suddenly upon the young figure. + +"Do go!" She tossed an imperative command with her jeweled fingers. +"You have ceased to be amusing since your interest is all in the other +room with that boy." + +Polly dashed the newspaper to the floor, and rushing impulsively across +the room, threw herself, with no thought for the consequences, on her +knees at Mrs. Chatterton's chair. + +"Oh--oh!" she cried, the color flying up to the brown waves on her +temples, "don't send me off; then I shall know you never will forgive +me." + +"Get up, do!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton, in disgust; "you are crushing +my gown, and besides I hate scenes." + +But Polly held resolutely to the chair-arm, and never took her brown +eyes from the cold face. + +"I must say, Polly Pepper," cried Mrs. Chatterton with rising anger, +"you are the most disagreeable girl that I ever had the misfortune to +meet. I, for one, will not put up with your constant ebullitions of +temper. Go out of this room!" + +Polly rose slowly and drew herself up with something so new in face and +manner that the old lady instinctively put up her eyeglass and gazed +curiously through it, as one would look at a strange animal. + +"Humph!" she said slowly at last, "well, what do you want to say? Speak +out, and then go." + +"Nothing," said Polly in a low voice, but quite distinctly, "only I +shall not trouble you again, Mrs. Chatterton." And as the last words +were spoken, she was out of the room. + +"Pretty doings these!" Mr. King, by a dexterous movement, succeeded in +slipping back of the portiere folds into the little writing-room, as +Polly rushed out through the other doorway into the hall. "A fortunate +thing it was that I left Dick, to see what had become of Polly. Now, +Cousin Eunice, you move from my house!" and descending the stairs, he +called determinedly, "Polly, Polly, child!" + +Polly, off in her own room now, heard him, and for the first time in +her life, wished she need not answer. + +"Polly--Polly!" the determined call rang down the passage, causing her +to run fast with a "Yes, Grandpapa, I'm coming." + +"Now, I should just like to inquire," began Mr. King, taking her by her +two young shoulders and looking down into the flushed face, "what she +has been saying to you." "Oh, Grandpapa!" down went Polly's brown head, +"don't make me tell. Please don't, Grandpapa." + +"I shall!" declared Mr. King; "every blessed word. Now begin!" + +"She--she wanted me to go out of the room," said Polly, in a reluctant +gasp. + +"Indeed!" snorted Mr. King. "Well, she will soon go out of that room. +Indeed, I might say, out of the house." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly, in great distress, and raising the +brown eyes--he was dismayed to find them filling with tears--"don't, +don't send her away! It is all my fault; indeed it is, Grandpapa!" + +"Your fault," cried Mr. King irately; "you must not say such things, +child; that's silly; you don't know the woman." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, holding back the storm of tears to get the +words out, "I never told you--I couldn't--but I said perfectly dreadful +words to her a week ago. Oh, Grandpapa! I did, truly." + +"That's right," said the old gentleman in a pleased tone. "What were +they, pray tell? Let us know." + +"Oh, Grandpapa, don't!" begged Polly, with a shiver; "I want to forget +them." + +"If you would only follow them up with more," said Mr. King +meditatively; "when it comes to tears, she must march, you know." + +"I won't cry," said Polly, swallowing the lump in her throat, "if you +will only let her stay." + +She turned to him such a distressed and white face that Mr. King stood +perplexedly looking down at her, having nothing to say. + +"I'm tired of her," at last he said; "we are all tired of her; she has +about worn us out." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, seeing her advantage in his hesitation, "if +you will only let her stay, I will never beg you for anything again." + +"Well, then she goes," cried Mr. King shortly. "Goodness me, Polly, if +you are going to stop asking favors, Cousin Eunice marches instanter!" + +"Oh! I'll beg and tease for ever so many things," cried Polly +radiantly, her color coming back. "Will you let her stay, +Grandpapa--will you?" She clasped his arm tightly and would not let him +go. + +"Well," said Mr. King slowly, "I'll think about it, Polly." + +"Will you?" cried Polly. "Dear Grandpapa, please say yes." + +Mr. King drew a long breath. "Yes," he said at last. + + + + +XIII + +A PIECE OF NEWS + + +"Collect the whole bunch of Peppers and send them into my writing-room, +Marian." Old Mr. King mounting the stairs, turned to see that his +command was heard. + +"You want Mother Pepper too, I presume?" said Mrs. Whitney, pausing at +the foot. + +"Mother Pepper? No, indeed; the last person in the world I wish to +see," cried her father irritably. "The bunch of Pepper children, I +want, and at once; see that they all report to me directly." With that +he redoubled his efforts and was soon at the top of the long oaken +steps. + +Polly and Ben closely followed by Joel, David and Phronsie soon rushed +over the same ascending thoroughfare, and presented themselves, flushed +and panting, at the writing-room door. + +"Come in," called Mr. King from within. + +"Here we are, sir," said Ben, spokesman by virtue of being the eldest. + +"Yes, yes," said Mr. King nervously, and turning away from some papers +he was fumbling to occupy the waiting moments. "Well, do sit down, all +of you. I sent for you to have a talk about something that you--that +you--well, do sit down." + +So all the Peppers deposited themselves in various resting-places; all +but Joel. He immediately marched up to the old gentleman's chair. + +"If it's good news," he said abruptly, "please let us have it right +this minute. But if it's bad, why," a gathering alarm stole over his +chubby countenance, as he scanned the face before him, "I'm going +out-doors." + +"It's good or bad news according as you take it," said the old +gentleman. "It ought to be good. But there," pushing back his chair to +look at the row of anxious figures the other side of the table, "do sit +down with the rest, Joe, and stop staring me out of countenance." + +Polly at that, pushed a chair over toward Joel, who persuading himself +into it, sat uncomfortably perched on its edge, where he stared harder +than ever. + +"Hum! well, children, now you are all remarkably sensible boys and +girls. Remarkably sensible. I've always said so, and I see no reason to +change my opinion of you now. And so, although at first my news may not +be quite to your liking, why, you'll quickly make it so, and be very +happy about it in the end. Hem! well, did you ever think that--that +your mother might possibly marry again?" + +The last words were brought out so abruptly, that to the five pairs of +ears strained to catch their import, it seemed as if the news had shot +by harmlessly. But after a breathing space the dreadful "marry," and +"your mother," came back to them, bringing the several owners of the +ears out of their chairs at one bound. + +"Our mother!" Ben hoarsely exclaimed. + +"Oh! how can you?" cried Polly passionately, a little white line +showing around her mouth, "say such perfectly dreadful things, sir!" + +Phronsie clasped her hands in silent terror, and raised big eyes to his +face. David began to walk helplessly down the apartment. "See here!" +said Joel, turning to the others, "wait a minute, and hold on. Perhaps +it's you, sir," whirling back to question, with piercing eyes, the old +gentleman, "who's going to marry our mother. Then it's all right!" + +"Me!" roared the old gentleman. "Oh! bless my soul, what should I want +to marry for at my time of life? Oh! my goodness me." + +His distress was now so frightful to see, that it brought the Peppers +in a measure out of theirs; and they began at once to endeavor to +soothe him. + +"Don't--oh! don't," they cried, and a common trouble overwhelming them, +they rushed around the table, seized his hands, and patted his +shoulders and hair. "Oh! this is very dreadful," gasped Polly, "but +don't you feel badly, dear, dear Grandpapa." + +"I should think it was," said Mr. King. "Phronsie, here, child, get +into my lap. I'll come to myself then. There, now, that's something +like," as Phronsie, with a low cry, hopped into her usual nest. "Now +perhaps I can communicate the rest of my news, when I get my breath." + +The Peppers held theirs, and he began once more. "Now, children, it +isn't in the course of nature for such a fine bright woman as your +mother to remain single the rest of her life; somebody would be sure to +come and carry her off. I'm glad it's to be in my lifetime, for now I +can be easy in my mind, and feel that you have a protector when I am +gone. There, there, we won't talk about that," as the young faces +turned dark with sudden pain, while Joel rushed convulsively to the +window, "you can see how I feel about it." + +"Are you glad?" cried Ben hoarsely. Polly for her life could not speak. +The whole world seemed turning round, and sinking beneath her feet. + +"Yes, I am," said the old gentleman, "and it won't alter the existing +state of things, for he will live here with us, and things will be just +the same, if only you children will take it rightly. But I've no doubt +you will in the end; no doubt at all," he added, brightening up, "for +you are very sensible young people. I've always said so." + +"Who is he?" The dreadful question trembled on all the lips; but no one +asked it. Seeing this, Mr. King broke out, "Well, now of course you +want to know who is going to marry your mother, that is, if you are +willing. For she won't have him unless you are to be happy about it. +Would you like Dr. Fisher for a father?" + +Joel broke away from the window with a howl, while Polly tumultuously +threw herself within the kind arms encircling Phronsie. + +"Next to you," cried the boy, "why, he's a brick, Dr. Fisher is!" + +"Why didn't you tell us before that it was he?" sobbed Polly, with +joyful tears running over her face. Davie, coming out of his gloomy +walk, turned a happy face towards the old man's chair, while Ben said +something to himself that sounded like "Thank God!" + +Phronsie alone remained unmoved. "What is Dr. Fisher going to do?" she +asked presently, amid the chatter that now broke forth. + +"He's going to live here," said old Mr. King, looking down at her, and +smoothing her yellow hair. "Won't that be nice, Phronsie?" + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "it will. And he'll bring his funny old gig, +won't he, and Ill drive sometimes, I suppose?" she added with great +satisfaction. + +"Yes; you will," said the old gentleman, winking furiously to keep back +the excited flow of information that now threatened the child. "Well, +Phronsie, you love Dr. Fisher, don't you?" + +"Yes, I do," said the child, folding her hands in her lap, "love him +very much indeed." + +"Well, he's going to be your father," communicated Mr. King, cautiously +watching her face at each syllable. + +"Oh, no!" cried Phronsie, "he couldn't be; he's Dr. Fisher." She +laughed softly at the idea. "Why, Grandpapa, he couldn't be my father." + +"Listen, Phronsie," and Mr. King took both her hands in his, "and I'll +tell you about it so that you will understand. Dr. Fisher loves your +mother; he has loved her for many years--all those years when she was +struggling on in the little brown house. But he couldn't tell her so, +because he had others depending on him for support. They don't need him +now, and as soon as he is free, he comes and tells your mother and me, +like a noble good man as he is, all about it. He's a gentleman, +children," he declared, turning to the others, "and you will be glad to +call him father." + +"I don't know what you mean," said Phronsie, with puzzled eyes. "Dear +Grandpapa, please tell me." + +"Why, he is going to marry your mother, child, and we are all to live +here together just the same, and everything is going to be just as +happy as possible." + +Phronsie gave a sharp and sudden cry of distress. "But Mamsie, my +Mamsie will be gone!" and then she hid her face in the old gentleman's +breast. + +"O dear, dear! get a glass of water, Polly," cried Mr. King. "One of +you run and open the window. Phronsie, Phronsie--there, child, look up +and let me tell you." But Phronsie burrowed yet deeper in the +protecting nest, regardless of his spotless linen. + +"Polly, speak to her," he cried in despair; "where is she? gone for the +water? O dear! Here, Ben, you try. Dear, dear, what a blunderer I am." + +"Phronsie," said Ben, leaning over the shaking figure, "you are making +Grandpapa sick." + +Up came Phronsie's yellow head. "Oh, Grandpapa!" she wailed, putting +out an unsteady little hand, "I didn't mean to, dear Grandpapa, +only--only Mamsie will be gone now." + +"Bless your heart, you'll have Mamsie more than ever," cried Mr. King +heartily. "Here, you children, tell her. Polly, we don't want the water +now, she's come to," as Polly came rushing in with a glassful. "Make +her understand; I can't." + +So Polly, setting down her glass, the others crowding around, took up +the task of making the piece of news as delightful as possible, and +presently Phronsie came out of her despair, to ask questions. + +"Are you really and truly very glad, Polly?" she asked. + +"Really and truly I am so glad I don't know what to do," said Polly, +kneeling down by the chair-side. "Don't you see we are so much the +richer, Phronsie? We have lost nothing, and we gain Dr. Fisher. Dear +splendid Dr. Fisher!" + +"You've always wanted to repay Dr. Fisher for his kindness," said Mr. +King, "and now's your chance, Polly." + +"I guess he'll get his pay back for his stove," cried Joel in a burst; +"Polly will wait on him, and kill herself doing things for him." + +"And for your new eyes," sang Phronsie in a pleased way. "Oh, Polly!" +She jumped out of the old gentleman's lap, and began to dance around +the room, softly clapping her hands and exclaiming, "Oh, Polly!" + +"Well, now, children," said Mr. King, as the excitement ran low, "you +just run and tell your mother, every one of you, how happy she will +make you by bringing Dr. Fisher here as your father. Scamper, now!" + +No need to urge them. On the wings of the wind ran the five Peppers up +into Mamsie's own room. Mrs. Pepper for once turning aside from the +claim of her pressing duties, was standing by the work table. Here +stood the mending basket before her, piled to the brim with the weekly +installment of stockings big and little, clamoring for attention. But +the usually busy needle lay idle, and the busier hands were folded, as +the mother-heart went over the words she knew were being rehearsed +downstairs by the kind friend who had made a home for them. He was +pleading her cause with her children. + +"They shall be happy, anyway," she said softly to herself, "bless their +hearts!" as they burst in. + +"Mother," said Ben--How the boy's cheek glowed! And what a world of joy +rang in the usually quiet tones!--"we want to thank you for giving us +Dr. Fisher for a father." + +"Mamsie," Polly hid her happy face on the dear neck, "I've always loved +him, you know; oh! I'm so glad." + +Joel whooped out something incoherent, but his face told the words, +while Davie clasped one of the firm, closely folded hands. + +"If you'll take me in your lap as much as ever," said Phronsie +deliberately, and patting the other hand, "why I shall be really and +truly glad, Mamsie." + +"Bless your dear heart!" cried Mother Pepper, clasping her tightly, +"and you children, all of you," and she drew them all within her arms. +"Now I want you to understand, once for all, that it isn't to be unless +you all wish it. You are sure Mr. King hasn't persuaded you to like it?" + +"Look at us," cried Ben, throwing back his head to see her eyes. "Do we +act as if we had been talked over?" + +At that, Polly burst into a merry laugh; and the others joining, Mother +Pepper laughing as heartily as the rest, the big room became the +jolliest place imaginable. + +"No, I don't really think you do," said Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes. + +"Dear me!" cried Jasper, putting his head in the doorway, "what good +fun is going on? I'm not going to be left out." + +"Come in, Jasper," they all called. + +"And we've a piece of news that will make your hair stand on end," said +Joel gaily. + +"Joe, don't announce it so," cried Polly in dismay, who dearly enjoyed +being elegant. "Ben must tell it; he is the oldest." + +"No, no; let Polly," protested Ben. + +"Polly shall," said Jasper, hurrying in to stand the picture of +patience before the group. "Hurry, do, for I must say my curiosity is +hard to keep within bounds." + +So Polly was gently pushed into the center of the circle. "Go on," said +Joel, "and hurry up, or I shall tell myself." + +"Jasper," said Polly, her breath coming fast, "oh! you can't think; we +are so glad"--But she got no further, for Phronsie, rushing out of +Mother Pepper's arms, piped out suddenly: + +"Dr. Fisher is coming here to live always and forever, and I'm going to +ride in his gig, and Mamsie likes him, and I'm going to call him +father; now, Jasper, I told you!" + +"I should think you did," exclaimed Ben. + +"Whew!" cried Jasper, "that is a piece of news all in one breath. Well, +Mrs. Pepper, I'm glad of it, too. I congratulate you." With that, he +marched up to her, Phronsie hanging to his arm, and shook her hand +heartily. + +And in two days everybody in the King set knew that the mother of the +five little Peppers was going to be married. + +"I should think you'd want to be condoled with, Ben," said Pickering +Dodge, clapping him on the shoulder as he rushed down the aisle of the +store occupied by Cabot & Van Meter. + +"Halloo!" said Ben, "can't stop," rushing past. + +"I suppose not," said Pickering carelessly, and striding after, "so +I'll whisper my gentle congratulations in your ear 'on the wing.' But +I'm awfully sorry for you, Ben," he added, as he came up to him. + +"You needn't be," said Ben brightly, "we are all as glad as can be." + +"Sweet innocent, you don't know a stepfather," said Pickering +lugubriously. + +"I know Dr. Fisher," said Ben, "that's enough." + +"Well, when you want comfort, come to me," said Pickering, "or your +uncle!" + +"Don't you fill Ben's ears with your foolishness," said the Senior +Partner, coming out of the counting-room. "Take yourself off, +Pickering; you're hindering Ben." + +Pickering laughed. "I'm caught in the very act. Now, Ben, remember I'm +your friend when you get into trouble with your dear pa. Good-by, +Uncle," with a bright nod, and a lazy shake of his long figure. "Trade +always demoralizes me. I'll get back to my books," and he vanished as +quickly as he came. + +"Back to your books," said his uncle grimly, "hum, I wish you would. +See here, Ben," he put a controlling hand on the boy's shoulder, "one +word with you," marching him into the private office of the firm. +"Don't you follow Pickering too closely, my boy," he said abruptly; +"he's a good lad in the main, but if he is my nephew, I must give you +warning. He's losing ground." + +Ben lifted his head in sudden alarm. "Oh! I hope not, sir," he said. + +"It's a fact. Master Nelson says he could be first scholar in the +grammar, but for the last six months he's failed steadily. There's no +particular reason, only ambition's gone. And when you say that, you +mean there's a general collapse of all my hopes concerning him." + +"Oh! no, sir," Ben kept on protesting, his ruddy cheek losing its +color. "He'll take hold by and by and give a pull at his books again." + +"It isn't a pull now and then that gets a man up hill," observed Mr. +Cabot, leaning back in his revolving chair to look into the blue eyes, +"that you know as well as I. Now, Ben, I'm not going to see you throw +away your prospects, too. Don't let him influence you in the wrong way. +He's bright and attractive, but don't pay attention to his ridicule of +good things." + +"I've a mother," said Ben proudly, "and I don't believe any boy could +say much to me, that I'd think of twice, if she didn't like it." + +"You always tell her everything, do you, Ben?" asked Mr. Cabot with a +curious glance. + +"I should think so, sir," said Ben, with a short laugh. + +"You'll do, then," said Mr. Cabot, bringing his palm down on a pile of +unread letters awaiting him. "Go ahead. I don't promise anything, but I +will say this. If you work on as you have done these two years since +you came in here as errand boy, Ben, I'll make you a power in the +house. Understand I don't expect you to do brilliant things; that isn't +in your line. You will be a success only as a steady, faithful worker. +But keep at it, and hang on to Cabot & Van Meter, and we'll hang on to +you." + + + + +XIV + +MAMSIE'S WEDDING + + +"Polly," said Dr. Fisher, coming suddenly out of a corner of the +library as she ran around the portiere folds, "you are sure you are +willing--are willing it should go on?" + +The little man peered at her anxiously through his big glasses, and he +looked so exactly as he did on that morning so long ago when Polly's +eyes were at their worst, that she could do nothing but gaze +speechlessly into his face. + +"I see you don't consider it quite best, child," said the little doctor +brokenly, "but you are trying with your good heart, to make it so. +Don't be afraid; it is not too late to end it all." + +"I was thinking," cried Polly with a gasp, "how good you were to me, +when you saved my eyes, and how you kept Joel from dying of the +measles. Oh! I couldn't speak--but I love you so." + +She threw her young arms around him. "Papa Fisher--for you are almost +my father now--I am the very, very happiest girl because you are going +to live here, and now I can show you just how much I really and truly +love you." + +The little man beamed at her. Then he took off his spectacles, wiped +them, and clapped them into place again. "You see, Polly," he said +deliberately, "it was impossible to see your mother and not love her. +She has had--well, there, child, I cannot bear to talk about it," and +he walked to the window, blew his nose violently on an immense +pocket-handkerchief, leaving the words poised in mid-air. + +"It was the greatest trial of my life that I couldn't show her then +when she was struggling so bravely to keep the wolf from the door, how +I felt. But my hands were tied, child," he added, coming back, his +usual self again. "Now I can make her, she says, happy, that is, if you +children like it. Just think, Polly, she said happy! It's stupendous, +but she said so, Polly, she really did!" + +He folded his hands and looked at her in astonishment, behind which +shone an intense gratification, that lighted up his plain little face +till he seemed to grow younger every instant. + +"Indeed she did!" repeated Polly like a bird, and laughing merrily. +"Oh, Papa Fisher! you ought to hear Mamsie sing. She doesn't know I'm +hearing her, but she sings at her work now." + +"Does she?" cried the doctor radiantly. "Well, Polly, we must see that +she sings every day, after this." + +"Yes, let us," cried Polly, clasping his hand; "we will." + +"And," proceeded the doctor, "after the wedding is over--I It really +dread the wedding, Polly--but after that is over, I do believe we shall +all be comfortable together!" + +Polly gave a little cry of delight. Then she said, "You needn't dread +the wedding one bit, Papa Fisher. There will be only the people that we +love, and who love us--Grandpapa promised that." + +"But that will make it very big," said Dr. Fisher, with round eyes and +a small shiver he could not suppress. + +"Oh, no!" said Polly cheerily, "sixty-five friends; that's all we are +going to ask; Mamsie and I made out the list last night." + +"Sixty-five people!" exclaimed Dr. Fisher in dismay. "Oh! isn't is +possible to be married without sixty-five friends to stare at you?" + +"Oh! that's not many," said Polly; "sixty-five is the very smallest +number that we could manage. We've been over the list ever so many +times, and struck out quantities of names. You see, everybody loves +Mamsie, and they'll want to see her married." + +"I know--I know," assented the doctor, "but that makes one hundred and +thirty eyes. Did you ever think of that, Polly?" + +Polly burst into such a laugh that Jasper popped in, and after him, +Phronsie, and a general hilarity now reigning, the dreaded wedding +preparations soon sank away from the doctor's perturbed vision. + +But they went on merrily nevertheless. All over the old stone mansion +there were hints of the on-coming festivities; and though all signs of +it were tucked away from the little doctor on his occasional visits, +the smothered excitement flamed afresh immediately his departure became +an assured thing. Everybody had the wildest plans for the occasion; it +appearing impossible to do enough for the one who had stood at the helm +for five long years, and who was to be reigning housekeeper for as much +longer as her services were needed. + +And Dr. Fisher never knew how perilously near he had been to the verge +of brilliant evening festivities, in the midst of which he was to be +ushered into matrimony. + +For Polly had suddenly waked one morning, to find herself, not +"famous," but alive with the sense of being--as her mother had so often +expressed it--"Mamsie's little right-hand woman." + +"It will be much better to have everything plain," said Polly, +communing with herself, as she turned on her pillow. "Mamsie has always +been without show, of any kind, and so," but here Polly's heart stood +still. Dearly she loved the bright, conspicuous accompaniments to the +wedding whereby Mr. King was determined to show his respect for the +family under his care. And her soul secretly longed for the five +hundred guests named on a list of the old gentleman's drawing up. And +the feast and the lights, and the pretty dresses, and the dancing party +for the young people to follow. For Mr. King had announced himself as +about to usher in the brightest of days for the young Peppers to +remember. + +"Besides it brings our new physician into notice," he would answer when +any faint protest was made. "And we shall all have reason to be +immensely proud of him, I tell you!" + +"Oh, dear!" cried Polly, burrowing deeper within the pillow folds, "why +aren't pleasant things best to do? Why, I wonder!" + +Cherry, twittering in the window, chirped something vague and +unsatisfactory. Polly brought up her brown head suddenly and laughed. + +"Nonsense! our happiness doesn't depend upon a lot of people coming +together to help it along. Mamsie's face, whenever Grandpapa plans all +this magnificence, is enough to make me feel wretched at the thought of +it. Dear Mamsie! she's afraid of ingratitude if she doesn't try to like +it. She shall have the little morning wedding with a few people around, +and the gray silk gown instead of the lavender one Grandpapa wants her +to wear, for Mamsie always knows just what is right." + +With that, Polly sprang out of bed, and rushed at her toilet, and after +breakfast she quietly captured Mr. King on the edge of some other +extravagant plan, and led him into the library. + +"Everything is going on finely, Polly," he cried in elation. "Ring for +Thomas, child; stay, I'll do it myself. I shall go in an hour to give +my orders for the wedding supper." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, turning quite pale, and laying a quick, +detaining hand on his arm, "oh! do wait, dear Grandpapa, I have +something to say." + +"Well, child," but he still retained his hand on the cord. + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" how could she say it! But she must. "Mamsie will be +ever so much happier if the wedding might be a quiet one. She really +would, Grandpapa." + +"No doubt Mrs. Pepper finds it a little hard to adjust her ideas to the +large affair," said the old gentleman, considerably disturbed, and by +no means relinquishing the bell-cord, "but it is due to you children to +have a bright time, and I must see that you all have it. That is my +affair," and this time the cord was pulled, and the bell rang a loud, +insistent message. + +Polly stood still in despair. "Grandpapa," she said distinctly, finding +it hard to proceed, with his face before her, "we children do not want +the large party; that is I do not." + +It was all out at last. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. King sharply, for his surprise was +too great to allow of composure, "who has been putting this idea into +your head? Your mother couldn't have done it, for she promised it +should all be as you young people wanted." + +"Mamsie never said a word," cried Polly, recovering herself as she saw +a chance to make things right for Mother Pepper; "it all came to me, +Grandpapa, all alone by myself. Oh! I hate the big display!" she +declared with sudden vehemence, astonishing herself with the repulsion +that now seized her. + +"Hoity toity!" exclaimed Mr. King, "it's not quite the thing, Polly, my +child, to express yourself so decidedly, considering your years." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, with a sudden rush of tears, "forgive me, do; +I did not mean to be so naughty. I did not, dear Grandpapa." She looked +like Phronsie now, and the old gentleman's heart melted. "But I am +quite sure that none of us children would be a bit happy not to have it +as Mamsie would like." + +"Well, but I am not sure that the others wouldn't like it," said Mr. +King persistently. + +"Ben wouldn't," said Polly triumphantly, "I know, for he all along +shrank from the big party." + +"Oh! well, Ben, I suppose, would object somewhat," conceded the old +gentleman slowly. + +"And Davie," cried Polly eagerly; "Oh, Grandpapa! David would much +prefer the morning wedding and the plain things." + +"But how about Joel and Phronsie?" interrupted Mr. King, utterly +ignoring Davie's claims to be heard. "Ah! Polly, my dear, until you +tell me that they will prefer to give up the fine party, you mustn't +expect me to pay any attention to what you say. It's due to Phronsie +that your mother's wedding is a thing worthy to remember as a fine +affair." + +"Perhaps Joel and Phronsie will think as we do," said Polly. But her +heart said No. + +"All right if they do," said Mr. King easily, "but unless you come and +tell me it is their own choice, why, I shall just go on with my plans +as mapped out," he added obstinately. "Thomas," as that functionary +appeared in the doorway, "take the letters to the post at once; you +will find them on my writing table." + +"All right, sir." + +"I'll give you till to-morrow to find out," said Mr. King. "Now come +and kiss me, Polly dear. You'll see it's all right after it's over, and +be glad I had the sense to keep my mind about it." + +Polly put up her lips obediently. But it was a sad little kiss that was +set upon his mouth, and it left him feeling like a criminal. + +And running out, she met her difficult task without a moment of +preparation. + +"Halloo, Polly!" whooped Joel, rushing around an angle in the hall, +"Grandpapa promised me that I might go out with him, to give the supper +orders, and all that kind of nonsense." + +Polly's heart stood still. + +"Joel," she began, seizing his jacket with trembling fingers, "come up +into my room a minute." + +"What's up?" cried Joel with curiosity; "some more mysteries? There's +nothing but whisperings, and secrets, and no end of jolly +understandings, ever since Mamsie commenced to marry Dr. Fisher. Go +ahead, I'll come." + +"And Phronsie, too," said Polly, seeing the yellow head emerge from the +breakfast-room doorway. + +"Come on, Phron," sang out Joel, "up in Polly's room--she wants you," +and the three hurried off. + +"Now, Joel," said Polly, closing the door and facing him desperately, +"you are Mamsie's own boy." + +"I should think so," said Joel, "I'm not anybody's else. Is that all +you brought me up here to say?" thrusting his hands in his pockets and +looking at her. + +"And you can make her happy, or just as miserable as I can't say what," +went on Polly incoherently. + +"What in the world are you firing at?" demanded the boy, visions of +certain pranks at school unpleasantly before him. "Don't shoot over my +head, Polly, but keep somewhere near your mark," he advised irritably. + +Phronsie surveyed the two with wide eyes, and a not wholly pleased +manner. + +"Mamsie does not want a big wedding," declared Polly, going to the +heart of the matter, "but dear kind Grandpapa thinks it will please us +children, and so he wants to give her one." + +"And so it will," cried Joel, "please us children. Whoop la! give us +your hand, Phronsie, this is the way we'll dance afterwards at the +party." + +"I don't want to dance," said Phronsie, standing quite still in the +middle of the room. The morning sun shone across her yellow hair, but +no light came into the large eyes. "Polly wants something, first; what +is it, Joel?" + +"I'm sure I don't know," said Joel, poised on a careless foot, and +executing a remarkable pas seul. "I don't believe she knows herself. +Polly is often queer, you know, Phronsie," he added cheerfully. + +"Tell me, Polly, do," whispered Phronsie, going over to her. + +"Phronsie," said Polly very slowly, "Mamsie doesn't want a big party in +the evening to see her married, but to have a cunning little company of +friends come in the morning, and"-- + +"Ugh!" cried Joel in disgust, coming down suddenly to both feet. + +"It will please Mamsie best," went on Polly, with a cold shoulder to +Joel. "And I never should be happy in all this world to remember that I +helped to make my Mamsie unhappy on her wedding day." + +Phronsie shivered, and her voice held a miserable little thrill as she +begged, "Oh! make her be married just as she wants to be, Polly, do." + +"Now that's what I call mean," cried Joel in a loud, vindictive tone +back of Polly, "to work on Phronsie's feelings. You can't make me say I +don't want Mamsie to have a wedding splurge, so there, Polly Pepper!" + +Polly preserved a dignified silence, and presented her shoulder again +to his view. + +"You can't make me say it, Polly Pepper!" shouted Joel shrilly. + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly in a rapture, throwing her arms around +the child, "Mamsie will be so pleased--you can't think. Let us go and +tell her; come!" + +"See here!" called Joel, edging up, "why don't you talk to me?" + +"I haven't anything to say," Polly condescended to give him, without +turning her head. "Come, Phronsie," holding out her hand. + +"Wait a minute." + +"Well, what is it?" Polly's hand now held Phronsie's, but she paused on +the way to the door. + +"I guess I can give up things as well as she can, if I know Mamsie +wants me to," said Joel, with a deeply injured manner. + +"Mamsie doesn't want any of us to give up anything unless we do it as +if we were glad to," said Polly. For her life, she couldn't conceal a +little scornful note in her voice, and Joel winced miserably. + +"I--I wish she wouldn't have the big party," he whined. + +"I thought you wanted it," said Polly, turning to him. + +"I--I don't. I'd rather Mamsie would be happy. O, dear! don't look at +me so." + +"I'm not looking at you so," said Polly. "You acted just as if you had +your heart set on the party." + +"Well, it isn't. I'll--I'll--if you say party to me again!" and he +faced her vindictively. + +"Joel Pepper!" cried Polly, holding him with her brown eyes, "do you +really mean that you are glad to give up that big evening party, and +have the little teeny one in the morning?" + +"Yes," said Joel, "as true as I live and breathe, I do!" + +"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Polly, and seizing his arm, she led off in a dance, +so much surpassing his efforts, that Phronsie screamed with delight to +see them go. When they could dance no more, Polly, flushed and panting, +ran out of the room, leaving the two to find out as best they might, +the cause of the strange demeanor. + +"Grandpapa," Polly rushing over the stairs, met him coming up to Mrs. +Whitney's room, "Joel says it's the little morning wedding--please; and +Phronsie too!" + +The old gentleman gave no sign of his defeat, beyond a "Humph! and so +I'm beaten, after all!" + +And Dr. Fisher never knew all this. + +Mamsie's wedding-day! At last it came! Was any other ever so bright and +beautiful? Phronsie thought not, and thereupon she impeded the +preparations by running up to kiss her mother every few moments, until +such time as Felicie carried her off to induct her into a white muslin +gown. Polly, here, there, and everywhere, was in such a rapture that +she seemed to float on wings, while the boys of the household, with the +exception of Jasper, lost their heads early in the day, and helplessly +succumbed to all demands upon them. + +Every flower had to be put in place by the young people. Old Turner for +once stood one side. And Polly must put the white satin boxes filled +with wedding cake on the little table where one of the waiters would +hand them to departing guests. And Phronsie must fasten Mamsie's pearl +broach--the gift of the five little Peppers--in her lace collar the +very last thing. And Jasper collected the rice and set the basket +holding it safely away from Joel's eager fingers till such time as they +could shower the bride's carriage. And all the boys were ushers, even +little Dick coming up grandly to offer his arm to the tallest guest as +it happened. + +And old Mr. King gave the bride away! And Dr. Fisher at the last forgot +all the one hundred and thirty eyes, and his "I will," rang out like a +man's who has secured what he has long wanted. And ever so many of the +guests said "What a good father he will make the children," and several +attempted to tell the Peppers so. "As if we didn't know it before," +said Joel indignantly. + +And Alexia and all the other girls of Polly's set were there, and +Joel's little blue and white creature came, to his great satisfaction, +with her aunt, who was quite intimate in the family; and Pickering +Dodge was there of course, and the Alstynes, and hosts of others. + +And Mother Pepper in her silver-gray gown and bonnet, by the side of +her husband, with Phronsie clinging to one hand, heard nothing but +heart-felt wishes for her happiness and that of the five little Peppers. + +And there was not so much as the shadow of a skeleton at the wedding +breakfast. And Cousin Mason Whitney took charge of the toasts--and +everybody felt that just the right things had been said. And then there +was a flutter of departure of the bridal party, and in the rattle of +the wheels Phronsie piped out bravely as she threw the slipper after +the departing coach: + +"Mamsie has been taking care of us all these years; now we're going to +be good and let her be happy." + + + + +XV + +MRS. CHATTERTON HAS A NEW PLAN + + +"Polly is learning to play beautifully," mused Phronsie, nursing one +foot contemplatively, as she curled up on the floor. "And Ben is to be +a capital business man, so Papa Fisher says, and Joel is going to buy +up this whole town sometime, and Davie knows ever so many books from +beginning to end, but what can I do?" + +Down went the little foot to the floor, and the yellow head drooped +over the white apron. + +"Nothing," mourned Phronsie, "just nothing at all; not even the wee-est +teeniest bit of anything do I know how to do. O, dear!" + +Outside, Jasper was calling to Prince. Phronsie could hear the big dog +rushing over the lawn in response, barking furiously as he went. But +she did not move. + +"And Mamsie will never be glad for me, unless I learn how to do things +too. If I don't hurry, I shall never be grown up." + +"Tweet--tweet--ch-r-r-r"--Cherry in his cage over her head, chirped +vigorously by way of consolation, but Phronsie did not lift her head. +Cherry seeing all his efforts in vain, stopped his song and rolled one +black eye down at her in astonishment, and soon became quite still. + +Presently the rustle of a stiff black satin gown became the chief +intruder upon the silence. It was so asserting that Phronsie lifted her +head to look into the face of Mrs. Chatterton, standing before her, +playing with the rings on her long white hands, and regarding her as if +she would soon require an explanation of such strange conduct. + +"What are you doing, Phronsie?" at last demanded the lady. + +"Thinking," said Phronsie; and she laid her chin in her hand, and +slowly turned her gaze upon the thin, disagreeable face before her, but +not as if in the slightest degree given up to a study of its lines and +expression. + +"So I perceive," said Mrs. Chatterton harshly. "Well, and what are you +thinking of, pray tell?" + +Still Phronsie looked beyond her, and it was not until the question had +been repeated, that an answer came. + +"Of many things," said Phronsie, "but I do not think I ought to tell +you." + +"And why not, pray?" cried the lady, with a short and most unpleasant +laugh. + +"Because I do not think you would understand them," said Phronsie. And +now she looked at the face she had before overlooked, with a deliberate +scrutiny as if she would not need to repeat the attention. + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton angrily, "and pray how long since +your thoughts have been so valuable?" + +"My thoughts are nice ones," said Phronsie slowly, "because they are +about nice people." + +"Ah!" + +"And they won't tell themselves. And I ought not to make them. They +would fly away then, and I should never find them again, when I wanted +to think them." + +"Your mother brought you up well, I must say," observed Mrs. +Chatterton, deliberately drawing up a chair and putting her long figure +within it, "to talk in this style to a lady as old as I am." + +Phronsie allowed one foot to gently trace the pattern on the carpet +before she answered. "I know you are very old," she said at last, "but +I cannot tell my thoughts to you." + +"Very old!" cried Mrs. Chatterton, her chin in the air. "Indeed! well, +I am not, I would have you know, Miss Phronsie," and she played with +the silk cord of her satin wrapper. "I hate a child that is made a +prig!" she added explosively under her breath. + +Phronsie made no reply, being already deep in her own calculations once +more. + +"Now, Phronsie," said Mrs. Chatterton, suddenly drawing herself out of +her angry fit, and clearing her brow, "I want you to give your +attention to me a moment, for I have something I must say to you. +That's why I came in here, to find you alone. Come, look at me, child. +It isn't polite to be staring at the carpet all the time." + +Phronsie, thus admonished, took her gaze from the floor, to bestow it +on the face above her. + +"It's something that nobody is to know but just you and me," began Mrs. +Chatterton, with a cautious glance at the door. + +Then she got out of her chair, and going across the room, closed it +carefully. "There, that's better; Polly is always around. Now we are +quite alone," coming back to her seat. + +"You see, Phronsie," she proceeded, not caring that the brown eyes were +slowly adding to their astonishment an expression that augured ill for +any plans she might be hoping to carry out toward propitiation. "It is +necessary to be careful not to be overheard, for what I am going to say +to you must be kept quite secret." + +"I must tell Mamsie," said Phronsie distinctly. + +"Indeed you will not," declared Mrs. Chatterton. "She is the very one +of all others who ought not to know. You can help her, Phronsie, if you +only keep quiet." + +Phronsie's eyes now became so very large that Mrs. Chatterton hastened +to add: + +"You know Polly is learning to be a music teacher when she grows up." + +Phronsie made no reply. + +"And a very creditable one she will be, from all acounts I can gather," +contributed Mrs. Chatterton carelessly. "Well, Ben is doing well in +Cabot & Van Meter's, so he's no trouble to your mother. As for the two +boys, I know nothing about them, one way or the other. But you, as you +are a girl, and the only one not provided for, why, I shall show a +little kindness in your direction. It's wholly disinterested and +quixotic, I know," added Mrs. Chatterton, with a sweeping gaze at the +walls and ceilings, "for me to give myself a thought about you or your +future. And I shall never receive so much as a thank you for it. But +I've passed all my life in thinking of others, Phronsie," here she +brought down her attention to the absorbed little countenance, "and I +cannot change now," she finished pensively. + +A silence fell upon them, so great that Mrs. Chatterton broke it +nervously. "Goodness me, Phronsie, you are not like a child; you are +too uncanny for anything. Why don't you ask questions about my secret?" + +"Because I ought not to know it," said Phronsie, finding her tongue. + +"Haven't I told you that you will help your mother only by not telling +her?" said Mrs. Chatterton. "How would you like to learn how to take +care of yourself when you are a big girl?" + +A light slowly gathered in the brown eyes, becoming at last so joyous +and assured, that Mrs. Chatterton's face dropped its hard lines, to +lose itself in a gratified smile. + +"Now you make me see some real hope that my scheme won't be wholly a +wild piece of philanthropy," she exclaimed. "Only look like that, +Phronsie, and I'll do anything for you." + +"If I can do anything for Mamsie," cried Phronsie, clasping her hands +in rapture. "Oh! do tell me, dear Mrs. Chatterton," she pleaded. + +"Oh! now I am dear Mrs. Chatterton," cried that lady, with a hard, +ill-favored smile. But she lowered her tone to a gentler one, and +extending one jeweled hand, took the little folded ones in her clasp. + +"I will be a good friend to you, and show you how you can learn to do +something so that when you grow up, you can take care of yourself, just +as Polly will. Just think, Phronsie, just as Polly will," cried Mrs. +Chatterton artfully. + +"How--how?" demanded Phronsie, scarcely breathing. + +"Listen, Phronsie. Now you know I haven't any little girl." + +Phronsie drew a long breath. + +"Well, I have been looking for one for a long time. I want one who will +be a daughter to me; who will grow up under my direction, and who will +appreciate what I sacrifice in taking her. She must be nice-looking, +for I couldn't stand an ill-favored child. I have found several who +were much better looking than you, Phronsie; in fact, they were +beauties; but I don't like the attitude of their families. The poor +things actually thought they were doing me a favor by accepting my +proposition for the children." + +As this statement required no remark on the part of the hearer, +Phronsie was silent, not removing her eyes from Mrs. Chatterton's face. + +"Now, although you haven't as much to recommend you as many other +children that I have fancied, I hope to make you serve my purpose. I am +going to try you, at least. Every day, Phronsie, you can come to my +room. It's lucky that you don't go to school, but do pretty much as you +like in this house, so no questions will be asked." + +"I go to Grandpapa's room every day," said Phronsie, in a distressed +tone, "to my lessons." + +"Of course. I know that; a very silly thing it is too. There's no use +in trying to break it up now, I suppose, or I'd put my hand to the +attempt. But you can come to me after you've got through toadying Mr. +King." + +"What is toding?" asked Phronsie. + +"Never mind; that hasn't anything to do with the business in hand," +replied Mrs. Chatterton impatiently. "Now if you come to me every day, +and give me as much time as you can, why, I'll show you what I want of +you, and teach you many things. Then after a while, Phronsie, when you +learn to appreciate it, I shall tell you what I am going to do. The +adoption will be an easy matter, I fancy, when the child is +interested," she added, taking the precaution to mutter it. + +"You must do everything as I tell you," Mrs. Chatterton leaned forward, +and said with great deliberateness, "else you will lose this chance to +help your mother. And you will never have another like it, but will +grow up to be a good-for-nothing little thing when Polly and all the +rest are earning money for your Mamsie, as you call her." + +"I shall earn money too," declared Phronsie on a high note, and nodding +her yellow head with great decision. + +"Never!" Mrs. Chatterton brought her foot, incased in its black satin +slipper, down with force on the carpet. "You will never earn a cent of +money in all this world, unless you do exactly as I say; for you are a +child who hasn't it in her to learn anything. But you can help me, and +I shall teach you many things, and do well by you." + +"When I grow a big girl, will anybody want me to do those things that +you are going to teach me?" asked Phronsie, drawing near to lay her +hand on the stiff black gown, and speaking earnestly. "Then if they +will, I'll try to do them just exactly as you tell me." + +"Of course they will," declared Mrs. Chatterton carefully, edging off +from the little fingers; "ever so many people will want you, Phronsie. +And I shall give you a great deal of money." + +"I shall give it all to Mamsie," interrupted Phronsie, her brown eyes +dilating quickly, "every single twenty-five cents you give me. Then I +guess she will be glad, don't you?" she cried, clasping her hands in +sudden rapture, while she began to dance up and down. + +"I shall give you so many twenty-five cents," cried Mrs. Chatterton, +beginning to feel her old heart beat with more enthusiasm than she had +known for many a day, "that you will be very rich, Phronsie." + +"Oh-oh!" cried Phronsie, coming to an abrupt pause in the middle of the +floor, her cheek paling in excitement. And then she could say no more. + +"But you must do exactly as I tell you." Mrs. Chatterton leaned forward +suddenly, and seized the little hands, now so still in their delight. +"Remember, it is only when you follow my commands in every single thing +that you will have any chance of earning all this money for your +mother, and helping her just at Polly is going to do. Remember now, +Phronsie!" + +"I will remember," said Phronsie slowly, as her hands were released. + +"Very good. We will begin now then." Mrs. Chatterton threw herself back +in her chair, and drew a long breath. "Lucky I found the child alone, +and so tractable. It's singularly good fortune," she muttered. "Well," +aloud, with a light laugh, "now, Phronsie, if you are going to be your +mother's helper, why, this is your first duty. Let us see how well you +perform it. Run upstairs to the closet out of the lumber-room, and open +the little black box on the shelf in front of the door--the box isn't +locked--and bring me the roll of black velvet ribbon you will find +there." + +Phronsie was about to ask, "Why does not Hortense go up for it?" but +Mrs. Chatterton forestalled the question by saying with a frown, +"Hortense has gone down to the dressmaker's. No child who calls me to +account for anything I ask of her can be helped by me. Do as you like, +Phronsie. No one will compel you to learn how to do things so that you +can be a comfort to your mother. Only remember, if you don't obey me, +you will lose your only chance." After this speech, Mrs. Chatterton sat +back and played with her rings, looking with oblique glances of cold +consideration at the child. + +"I'll go," said Phronsie with a long sigh, "and do every thing you say." + +"I do really believe I can bend one of those dreadful Pepper children +to my will," thought Mrs. Chatterton exultingly. "She is my only hope. +Polly does better than she did, but she is too old to be tractable, and +she has a shrewd head on her practical body, and the others are just +horrible!" She gave a shiver. "But Phronsie will grow up to fit my +purpose, I think. Three purposes, I may say--to get the Peppers +gradually out from under Horatio King's influence, and to train up a +girl to wait on me so that I can get away from these French villains of +maids, and to spite Alexander's daughter by finally adopting this +Phronsie if she suits me. But I must move carefully. The first thing is +to get the child fastened to me by her own will." + +Phronsie, ascending the stairs to the lumber-room, with careful +deliberateness, found no hint of joy at the prospect before her, +reaching into the dim distance to that enchanted time when she should +be grown up. But there was a strangely new sense of responsibility, +born in an hour; and an acceptance of life's burdens, that made her +feel very old and wise. + +"I shall be a comfort to my mother," she said confidently, and mounted +on. + + + + +XVI + +WHERE IS PHRONSIE? + + +Phronsie shut the door of the lumber-room, and with a great sigh +realized that she had with her own hand cut herself off from the gay +life below stairs. + +"But they are not so very far off," she said, "and I shall soon be down +again," as she made her way across the room and opened the closet door. + +A little mouse scurried along the shelf and dropped to the floor. +Phronsie peered into the darkness within, her small heart beating +fearfully as she held the knob in her hand. + +"There may be more," she said irresolutely. "I suppose he wouldn't live +up here all alone. Please go away, mousie, and let me get the box." + +For answer there was a scratching and nibbling down in the corner that +held more terrors for the anxious ears than an invading army. + +"I must go in," said Phronsie, "and bring out the box. Please, good +mouse, go away for one moment; then you may come back and stay all day." + +But the shadowy corner only gave back the renewed efforts of the sharp +little teeth; so at last, Phronsie, plucking up courage, stepped in. +The door swung to after her, giving out a little click, unnoticed in +her trepidation as she picked her way carefully along, holding her red +gown away from any chance nibbles. It was a low narrow closet, +unlighted save by a narrow latticed window, in the ceiling, for the +most part filled with two lines of shelves running along the side and +one end. Phronsie caught her breath as she went in, the air was so +confined; and stumbling over in the dim light, put her hand on the box +desired, a small black affair, easily found, as it was the only one +there. + +"I will take it out into the lumber-room; then I can get the velvet +roll," and gathering it up within her arms, she speedily made her way +back to the door. + +"Why"--another pull at the knob; but with the same result, and +Phronsie, setting the box on the floor, still with thoughts only of the +mouse, put both hands to the task of opening the door. + +"It sticks, I suppose, because no one comes up here only once in a +great while," she said in a puzzled way. "I ought to be able to pull it +open, I'm sure, for I am so big and strong." She exerted all her +strength till her face was like a rose. The door was fast. Phronsie +turned a despairing look upon the shadowy corner. + +"Please don't bite me," she said, the large tears gathering in her +brown eyes. "I am locked in here in your house; but I didn't want to +come, and I won't do anything to hurt you if you'll let me sit down and +wait till somebody comes to let me out." + +Meanwhile Mrs. Chatterton shook out her black satin gown complacently, +and with a satisfied backward glance at the mirror, sailed off to her +own apartments. + +"Madame," exclaimed Hortense breathlessly, meeting her within the door, +"de modiste will not send de gown; you must"-- + +"Will not send it?" repeated her mistress in a passion. "A pretty +message to deliver. Go back and get it at once." + +"She say de drapery--de tournure all wrong, and she must try it on +again," said the maid, glad to be defiant, since the dressmaker +supported her. + +"What utter nonsense! Yet I suppose I must go, or the silly creature +will have it ruined. Take off this gown, Hortense, and bring my walking +suit, then ring and say I'd like to have Thomas take me down there at +once," and throwing off her bracelets, and the various buckles and pins +that confined her laces, she rapidly disrobed and was expeditiously +inducted by Hortense into her walking apparel, and, a parlor maid +announcing that Thomas with the coupe was at the door, she hurried +downstairs, with no thought for anything beyond a hasty last charge to +her maid. + +"Where's Phronsie?" cried Polly, rushing into Mother Fisher's room; "O +dear me, my hair won't stay straight," pushing the rebellious waves out +of her eyes. + +"It looks as if a brush wouldn't do it any harm," observed Mother +Fisher critically. + +"O dear, dear! well, I've brushed and brushed, but it does no good," +said Polly, running over to the mirror; "some days, Mamsie, no matter +what I do, it flies all ways." + +"Good work tells generally," said her mother, pausing on her way to the +closet for a closer inspection of her and her head; "you haven't taken +as much pains, Polly, lately with your hair; that is the trouble." + +"Well, I'm always in such a hurry," mourned Polly, brushing furiously +on the refractory locks. "There, will you stay down?" to a particularly +rebellious wave. + +"One at a time is the best way to take things," said Mrs. Fisher dryly. +"When you dress yourself, Polly, I'd put my mind on that, if I were +you." + +With that, she disappeared within the closet. + +"O dear, I suppose so," sighed Polly, left to her own reflections and +brushing away. "Well, that's the best I can make it look now, for I +can't do the braid over. Where is Phronsie, I wonder! Mamsie," she +threw down the brush and ran over to put her head in the closet, "where +did she go?" + +"I told her she might run over to Helen Fargo's, right after +breakfast," said Mrs. Fisher, her head over a trunk, from which she was +taking summer dresses. "Polly, I think you'll get one more season's +wear out of this pink cambric." + +"Oh! I am so glad," cried Polly, "for I had such splendidly good times +in it," with a fond glance at the pink folds and ruffles. "Well, if +Phronsie is over at Helen's, there's no use in asking her to go down +town with us." + +"Where are you going?" asked Mrs. Fisher, extricating one of Phronsie's +white gowns from its winter imprisonment. + +"Down to Candace's," said Polly. "Jasper wants some more pins for his +cabinet. No, I don't suppose Phronsie would tear herself away from +Helen for all the down-towns in the world." + +"You would better let her stay where she is," advised Mother Fisher; +"she hasn't been over to Helen's for quite a while, so it's a pity to +call her away," and she turned to her unpacking again, while Polly ran +off on the wings of the wind, in a tremor at having kept Jasper waiting +so long. + +"Candace" was the widow of an old colored servant of Mr. King's; she +called herself a "relict;" that, and the pride in her little shop, made +her hold her turbaned head high in the air, while a perennial smile +enwreathed her round face. + +The shop was on Temple Place, a narrow extension thrown out from one of +the city's thoroughfares. She was known for a few specialties; such as +big sugary doughnuts that appealed alike to old and young. They were +always fresh and sweet, with just the proper amount of spice to make +them toothsome; and she made holders of various descriptions, with the +most elaborate patterns wrought always in yellow worsted; with several +other things that the ladies protested could never be found elsewhere. +Jasper had been accustomed to run down to Candace's little shop, since +pinafore days, when he had been taken there by his nurse, and set upon +a high stool before the small counter, and plied with dainties by the +delighted Candace. + +"The first thing I can remember," he had often told Polly, "is Candace +taking out huge red and white peppermint drops, from the big glass jar +in the window, and telling me to hold out both hands." + +And after the "pinafore days" were over, Candace was the boy's helper +in all his sports where a woman's needle could stitch him out of any +difficulty. She it was who made the sails to his boats, and marvelous +skate bags. She embroidered the most intricate of straps for his +school-books, and once she horrified him completely by working in red +cotton, large "J's" on two handkerchiefs. He stifled the horror when he +saw her delight in presenting the gift, and afterwards was careful to +remember to carry a handkerchief occasionally when on an errand to the +shop. + +Latterly Candace was occupied in preparing pins for Jasper's cabinet, +out of old needles that had lost their eyes. She cleverly put on red +and black sealing wax heads, turning them out as round as the skillful +manipulation of deft fingers could make them. In this new employment, +the boy kept her well occupied, many half-dollars thereby finding their +way into her little till. + +"I wish Phronsie had come," said Polly, as she and Jasper sorted the +pins in the little wooden tray Candace kept for the purpose. "How many +red ones you will have, Jasper--see--fifteen; well, they're prettier +than the others." + +"Ef little Miss had come wid you," said Candace, emerging from the +folds of a chintz curtain that divided the shop from the bedroom, +"she'd 'a' seen my doll I made for her. Land! but it's a beauty." + +"Oh, Candace!" exclaimed Polly, dropping the big pin she held, and +allowing it to roll off the counter to the floor. "What a pity we +didn't bring her! Do let us see the doll." + +"She's a perfec' beauty!" repeated Candace in satisfaction, "an' I done +made her all myself fer de little Miss," and she dodged behind the +curtain again, this time bringing out a large rag doll with surprising +black bead eyes, a generous crop of wool on its head, and a red worsted +mouth. + +"Dat's my own hair," said Candace, pointing to the doll's head with +pride, "so I know it's good; an' ain't dat mouf pretty?" + +"Oh, Candace!" exclaimed Polly, seizing the doll, and skillfully +evading the question, "what a lovely dress--and the apron is a dear"-- + +"Ain't it?" said Candace, her black face aglow with delight. "Ole Miss +gimme dat yeller satin long ago, w'en I belonged to her befo' de war. +An' dat yere apun was a piece of ole Miss's night-cap. She used to have +sights of 'em, and dey was all ruffled like to kill, an' made o' +tambour work." + +Polly had already heard many times the story of Madame Carroll's +night-caps, so she returned to the subject of the doll's beauty as a +desirable change. + +"Do you want us to take this to Phronsie?" she asked. "Jasper, won't +she be delighted?" + +"Land, no!" cried Candace, recovering the doll in alarm; "I'd never +sleep a week o' nights ef I didn't put dat yere doll into dat bressed +child's arms." + +"Then I'll tell Phronsie to come over to-morrow," said Polly. "Shall I, +Candace?" + +"Yes," said Candace, "you tell her I got somefin' fer her; don't you +tell her what, an' send her along." + +"All right," said Jasper. "Just imagine Phronsie's eyes when she sees +that production. Candace, you've surpassed yourself." + +"You go 'long!" exclaimed Candace, in delight, and bestowing a gentle +pat of deprecation on his shoulder, "'tain't like what I could do; but +la! well, you send de bressed chile along, and mabbe she'll like it." + +"Jasper, we'll stop at Helen's now," said Polly as the two hurried by +the tall iron fence, that, lined with its thick hedge, shut out the +Fargo estate from vulgar eyes, "and get Phronsie; she'll be ready to +come home now; it's nearly luncheon time." + +"All right," said Jasper; so the two ran over the carriage drive to a +side door by which the King family always had entree. + +"Is Phronsie ready to come home?" asked Polly of the maid. "Tell her to +hurry and get her things on; we'll wait here. Oh, Jasper!" turning to +him, "why couldn't we have the club next week, Wednesday night?" + +"Miss Mary," said the maid, interrupting, "what do you mean? I haven't +seen Miss Phronsie to-day." + +Polly whirled around on the step and looked at her. + +"Oh! she's upstairs in the nursery, playing with Helen, I suppose. +Please ask her to hurry, Hannah." + +"No, she isn't, Miss Mary," said Hannah. "I've been sweeping the +nursery this morning; just got through." She pointed to her broom and +dustpan that she had set in a convenient corner, as proof of her +statement. + +"Well, she's with Helen somewhere," said Polly, a little impatiently. + +"Yes; find Helen, and you have the two," broke in Jasper. "Just have +the goodness, Hannah, to produce Helen." + +"Miss Helen isn't home," said Hannah. "She went to Greenpoint yesterday +with Mrs. Fargo to spend Sunday." + +"Why," exclaimed Polly in bewilderment, "Mamsie said she told Phronsie +right after breakfast that she could come over here." + +"She hasn't been here," said the maid positively. "I know for certain +sure, Miss Mary. Has she, Jane?" appealing to another maid coming down +the hall. + +"No," said Jane. "She hasn't been here for ever so many days." + +"Phronsie played around outside probably," said Jasper quickly; +"anyway, she's home now. Come on, Polly. She'll run out to meet us." + +"Oh, Jasper! do you suppose she will?" cried Polly, unable to stifle an +undefinable dread. She was running now on frightened feet, Jasper +having hard work to keep up with her, and the two dashed through the +little gate in the hedge where Phronsie was accustomed to let herself +through on the only walk she was ever allowed to take alone, and into +the house where Polly cried to the first person she met, "Where's +Phronsie?" to be met with what she dreaded, "Gone over to Helen +Fargo's." + +And now there was indeed alarm through the big house. Not knowing where +to look, each fell in the other's way, quite as much concerned for Mr. +King's well-being; for the old gentleman was reduced to such a state by +the fright that the entire household had all they could do to keep him +in bounds. + +"Madame is not to come home to luncheon," announced Hortense to Mrs. +Whitney in the midst of the excitement. "She told me to tell you that +de Mees Taylor met her at de modiste, and took her home with her." + +Mrs. Whitney made no reply, but raised her eyes swollen with much +crying, to the maid's face. + +"Hortense, run as quickly as possible down to Dr. Fisher's office, and +tell him to come home." + +"Thomas should be sent," said Hortense, with a toss of her head. "It's +not de work for me. Beside I am Madame's maid." + +"Do you go at once," commanded Mrs. Whitney, with a light in her blue +eyes that the maid never remembered seeing. She was even guilty of +stamping her pretty foot in the exigency, and Hortense slowly gathered +herself up. + +"I will go, Madame," with the air of conferring a great favor, "only I +do not such t'ings again." + + + + +XVII + +PHRONSIE IS FOUND + + +"I am glad that you agree with me." Mrs. Chatterton bestowed a +complacent smile upon the company. + +"But we don't in the least agree with you," said Madame Dyce, her stiff +brocade rustling impatiently in the effort to put her declaration +before the others, "not in the least." + +"Ah? Well, you must allow that I have good opportunities to judge. The +Pepper entanglement can be explained only by saying that my cousin's +mental faculties are impaired." + +"The rest of the family are afflicted in the same way, aren't they?" +remarked Hamilton Dyce nonchalantly. + +"Humph! yes." Mrs. Chatterton's still shapely shoulders allowed +themselves a shrug intended to reveal volumes. "What Jasper Horatio +King believes, the rest of the household accept as law and gospel. But +it's no less infatuation." + +"I'll not hear one word involving those dear Peppers," cried Madame +Dyce. "If I could, I'd have them in my house. And it's a most +unrighteous piece of work, in my opinion, to endeavor to arouse +prejudice against them. It goes quite to my heart to remember their +struggles all those years." + +Mrs. Chatterton turned on her with venom. Was all the world arrayed +against her, to take up with those hateful interlopers in her cousin's +home? She made another effort. "I should have credited you with more +penetration into motives than to allow yourself to be deceived by such +a woman as Mrs. Pepper." + +"Do give her the name that belongs to her. I believe she's Mrs. Dr. +Fisher, isn't she?" drawled Livingston Bayley, a budding youth, with a +moustache that occasioned him much thought, and a solitary eyeglass. + +"Stuff and nonsense! Yes, what an absurd thing that wedding was. Did +anybody ever hear or see the like!" Mrs. Chatterton lifted her long +jeweled hands in derision, but as no one joined in the laugh, she +dropped them slowly into her lap. + +"I don't see any food for scorn in that episode," said the youth with +the moustache. "Possibly there will be another marriage there before +many years. I'm sweet on Polly." + +Mrs. Chatterton's face held nothing but blank dismay. The rest shouted. + +"You needn't laugh, you people," said the youth, setting his eyeglass +straight, "that girl is going to make a sensation, I tell you, when she +comes out. I'm going to secure her early." + +"Not a word, mind you, about Miss Polly's preferences," laughed +Hamilton Dyce aside to Miss Mary. + +"'Tisn't possible that she could be anything but fascinated, of +course," Mary laughed back. + +"Of course not. The callow youth knows his power. Anybody else in favor +of the Peppers?" aloud, and looking at the company. + +"Don't ask us if we like the Peppers," cried two young ladies +simultaneously. "They are our especial and particular pets, every one +of them." + +"The Peppers win," said Hamilton Dyce, looking full into Mrs. +Chatterton's contemptuous face. "I'm glad to record my humble self as +their admirer. Now"-- + +"Well, pa!" Mary could not refrain from interrupting as her father +suddenly appeared in the doorway. + +"I can't sit down," he said, as the company made way for him to join +them. "I came home for some important papers. I suppose you have heard +the trouble at the Kings? I happened to drop in there. Well, Dyce," +laying his hand on that gentleman's chair, "I scarcely expected to see +you here to-day. Why aren't you at the club spread?" + +"Cousin Horatio! I suppose he's had a paralytic attack," interrupted +Mrs. Chatterton, with her most sagacious air. + +"What's the trouble up there?" queried Mr. Dyce, ignoring the question +thrust at him. + +"It's the little beauty--Phronsie," said Mr. Taylor. + +"Nothing's happened to that child I hope!" cried Madame Dyce, paling. + +"Now, Mr. Taylor, you are not going to harrow our feelings by telling +us anything has harmed that lovely creature," exclaimed the two young +ladies excitedly. + +"Phronsie can't be found," said Mr. Taylor. + +"Can't be found!" echoed all the voices, except Mrs. Chatterton's. She +ejaculated "Ridiculous!" + +Hamilton Dyce sprang to his feet and threw down his napkin. "Excuse me, +Miss Taylor. Come, Bayley, now is the time to show our devotion to the +family. Let us go and help them out of this." + +Young Bayley jumped lightly up and stroked his moustache like a man of +affairs. "All right, Dyce. Bon jour, ladies." + +"How easily a scene is gotten up," said Mrs. Chatterton, "over a +naughty little runaway. I wish some of the poor people in this town +could have a tithe of the attention that is wasted on these Peppers," +she added virtuously. + +Madame Dyce turned uneasily in her seat, and played with the almonds on +her plate. "I think we do best to reserve our judgments," she said +coolly. "I don't believe Phronsie has run away." + +"Of course she has," asserted Mrs. Chatterton, in that positive way +that made everybody hate her to begin with. "She was all right this +morning when I left home. Where else is she, if she hasn't run away, +pray tell?" + +Not being able to answer this, no one attempted it, and the meal ended +in an uncomfortable silence. + +Driving home a half-hour later, in a cab summoned for that purpose, +Mrs. Chatterton threw off her things, angry not to find Hortense at her +post in the dressing-room, where she had been told to finish a piece of +sewing, and not caring to encounter any of the family in their present +excitement, she determined to take herself off upstairs, where "I can +kill two birds with one stone; get rid of everybody, and find my box +myself, because of course that child ran away before she got it." + +So she mounted the stairs laboriously, counting herself lucky indeed in +finding the upper part of the house quite deserted, and shutting the +lumber-room door when she was well within it, she proceeded to open the +door of the closet. + +"Hortense didn't tell me there was a spring lock on this door," she +exclaimed, with an impatient pull. "Oh! good heavens." She had nearly +stumbled over Phronsie Pepper's little body, lying just where it fell +when hope was lost. + +"I have had nothing to do with it," repeated Mrs. Chatterton to +herself, following Mr. King and Jasper as they bore Phronsie +downstairs, her yellow hair floating from the pallid little face. +"Goodness! I haven't had such a shock in years. My heart is going quite +wildly. The child probably went up there for something else; I am not +supposed to know anything about it." + +"Is she dead?" cried Dick, summoned with the rest of the household by +Mrs. Chatterton's loud screams, and quite beside himself, he clambered +up the stairs to get in every one's way. + +Mrs. Chatterton, with an aimless thrust of her long jeweled hands, +pushed him one side. And Dick boiled over at that. + +"What are you here for?" he cried savagely. "You don't love her. You +would better get out of the way." And no one thought to reprove him. + +Polly was clinging to the post at the foot of the stairs. "I shall die +if Phronsie is dead," she said. Then she looked at Mother Fisher, +waiting for her baby. + +"Give her to me!" said Phronsie's mother, holding out imperative arms. + +"You would better let us carry her; well put her in your bed. Only get +the doctor." Mr. King was almost harsh as he endeavored to pass her. +But before the words were over his lips, the mother held her baby. + +"Mamsie," cried Polly, creeping over to her like a hurt little thing, +"I don't believe but that she'll be all right. God won't let anything +happen to our Phronsie. He couldn't, Mamsie." + +Dr. Fisher met them at the door. Polly never forgot the long, slow +terror that clutched at her heart as she scanned his face while he took +the child out of the arms that now yielded up their burden. And +everything turned dark before her eyes--Was Phronsie dead? + +But there was Mamsie. And Polly caught her breath, beat back the +faintness, and helped to lay Phronsie on the big bed. + +"Clearly I have had nothing to do with it," said Mrs. Chatterton to +herself, stumbling into a room at the other end of the hall. But her +face was gray, and she found herself picking nervously at the folds of +lace at her throat. "The child went up there, as all children will, to +explore. I shall say nothing about it--nothing whatever. Oh! how is +she?" grasping blindly at Jasper as he rushed by the door. + +"Still unconscious"-- + +"Stuff and--oh! well," muttering on. "She'll probably come to. Children +can bear a little confinement; an hour or two doesn't matter with +them--Hortense!" aloud, "bring me my sal volatile. Dear me! this is +telling on my nerves." She caught sight of her face in the long mirror +opposite, and shivered to see how ghastly it was. "Where is the girl? +Hortense, I say, come here this instant!" + +A maid, summoned by her cries, put her head in the door. "Hadn't you +better go into your own room, Mrs. Chatterton?" she said, in pity at +the shaking figure and blanched face. + +"No--no," she sharply repulsed her. "Bring Hortense--where is that +girl?" she demanded passionately. + +"She's crying," said the maid, her own eyes filling with tears. "I'll +help you to your room." + +"Crying?" Madame Chatterton shrieked. "She's paid to take care of me; +what right has she to think of anything else?" + +"She says she was cross to Phronsie once--though I don't see how she +could be, and--and--now that she's going to die, she"--and the maid +burst into tears and threw her apron over her face. + +"Die--she shan't! What utter nonsense everybody does talk in this +house!" Madame Chatterton seized her arm, the slender fingers +tightening around the young muscles, and shook her fiercely. + +The maid roused by her pain out of her tears looked in affright into +the gray face above her. "Let me go," she cried. "Oh! madame, you hurt +me." + +"Give me air," said Madame Chatterton, her fingers relaxing, and making +a great effort not to fall. "Help me over to the window, and open it, +girl"--and leaning heavily on the slight figure, she managed to get +across the room. + +"There--now," drawing a heavy breath as she sank into a chair and +thrust her ashen face out over the sill, "do you go and find out how +the child is. And come back and tell me at once." + +"Madame, I'm afraid to leave you alone," said the girl, looking at her. + +"Afraid? I'm not so old but that I can take care of myself," said Mrs. +Chatterton with a short laugh. "Go and do as I tell you," stamping her +foot. + +"Still unconscious"-- + +Would no one ever come near her but this detestable maid, with her +still more detestable news? Mrs. Chatterton clutched the window casing +in her extremity, not feeling the soft springy air as she gasped for +breath. The maid, too frightened to leave her, crept into a corner +where she watched and cried softly. + +There was a stir in the household that they might have heard, +betokening the arrival of two other doctors, but no word came. And +darkness settled upon the room. Still the figure in the window niche +held to its support, and still the maid cried at her post. + +As the gray of the twilight settled over the old stone mansion, +Phronsie moved on her pillow. + +"Dear mouse,"--the circle of watchers around the bed moved +closer,--"I'll go away when some one comes to open the door." + +"Hush!" Dr. Fisher put his hand over the mother's lips. + +"Don't please bite me very hard. I won't come up again to your house. +Oh! where's Grandpapa?" + +Old Mr. King put his head on his hands, and sobbed aloud. + +The little white face moved uneasily. + +"Grandpapa always comes when I want him," in piteous tones. + +"Father," said Jasper, laying a hand on the bowed shoulders, "you would +better come out. We'll call you when she comes to herself." + +But Mr. King gave no sign of hearing. + +A half-hour ticked slowly away, and Phronsie spoke again. "It's growing +dark, and I suppose they will never come. Dear mouse"--the words died +away and she seemed to sleep. + +"I shall not tell," Mrs. Chatterton was saying to herself in the other +room; "what good could it do? Oh! this vile air is stifling. Will no +one come to say she is better?" And so the night wore on. + +As morning broke, Phronsie opened her eyes, and gave a weak little cry. +Polly sprang from her knees at the foot of the bed, and staggered +toward the child. + +"Don't!" cried Jasper, with a hand on her arm. + +"Let her alone," said Dr. Fisher quickly. + +"Oh, Polly!" Phronsie raised herself convulsively on the bed. "You did +come--you did!" winding her little arms around Polly's neck. "Has the +mouse gone?" + +"Yes, yes," said Polly as convulsively; "he's all gone, Phronsie, and I +have you fast; just see. And I'll never let you go again." + +"Never?" cried Phronsie, straining to get up further into Polly's arms. + +"No dear; I'll hold you close just as long as you need me." + +"And he won't come again?" + +"He can't Phronsie; because, you see, I have you now." + +"And the door will open, and I'll have Mamsie and dear Grandpapa?" + +"Yes, yes, my precious one," began Mr. King, getting out of the large +arm-chair into which they had persuaded him. + +"Don't do it. Stay where you are," said Dr. Fisher, stopping him +half-way across the room. + +"But Phronsie wants me; she said so," exclaimed old Mr. King hoarsely, +and trying to push his way past the doctor. "Why, man, don't stop me." + +Dr. Fisher planted his small body firmly in front of the old gentleman. +"You must obey me." + +Obey? When had Mr. King heard that word addressed to himself. He drew a +long breath, looked full into the spectacled eyes, then said, "All +right, Fisher; I suppose you know best," and went back to his arm-chair. + +"I'm so tired, Polly," Phronsie was saying, and the arms, Polly could +feel, were dropping slowly from her neck. + +"Are you, Pet? Well, now, I'll tell you what we'll do. Let us both go +to sleep. There, Phronsie, now you put your arms down, so"--Polly gave +them a swift little tuck under the bed-clothes--"and I'll get up beside +you, so"--and she crept on to the bed--"and we'll both go right to +'nid-nid-nodland,' don't you know?" + +"You're sure you won't let me go?" whispered Phronsie, cuddling close, +and feeling for Polly's neck again. + +"Oh! just as sure as I can be," declared Polly cheerfully, while the +tears rained down her cheek in the darkness. + +"I feel something wet," said Phronsie, drawing back one hand. "What is +it, Polly?" + +"Oh! that," said Polly with a start. "Oh--well, it's--well, I'm crying, +Phronsie; but I'm so glad--oh! you don't know how glad I am, sweet," +and she leaned over and kissed her. + +"If you're glad," said Phronsie weakly, "I don't care. But please don't +cry if you are not glad, Polly." + +"Well, now we're fixed," said Polly as gaily as she could. "Give me +your hand, Pet. There, now, good-night." + +"Good-night," said Phronsie. Polly could feel her tucking the other +hand under her cheek on the pillow, and then, blessed sound--the long +quiet breathing that told of rest. + +"Oh! better, is she?" Mrs. Chatterton looked up quickly to see Mrs. +Whitney's pale face. "Well, I supposed she would be. I thought I'd sit +here and wait to know, since you were all so frightened. But I knew it +wouldn't amount to much. Now, girl," nodding over to the maid still in +the corner, "you may get me to bed." And she stretched her stiff limbs, +and held out her hand imperatively. + +"It was very fortunate that I did not tell," she said, when the slow +passage to her own apartments had been achieved. "Now if the child will +only keep still, all will be well." + + + + +XVIII + +THE GIRLS HAVE POLLY AGAIN + + +"Phronsie shall have a baked apple this morning," said Mother Fisher, +coming into the sunny room where Phronsie lay propped up against the +pillows. + +"Did Papa-Doctor say so?" asked Phronsie, a smile of supreme content +spreading over her wan little face. + +"Yes, he did," said her mother; "as nice an apple, red and shiny as we +could find, is downstairs baking for you, Phronsie. When it's done, +Sarah is to bring it up." + +"That will be very nice," breathed Phronsie slowly. "And I want my +little tea-set--just the two cups and saucers--and my own little pot +and sugar-bowl. Do let me, Mamsie, and you shall have a cup of milk +with me," she cried, a little pink color stealing into either cheek. + +"Yes, yes, child," said Mother Fisher. "There, you mustn't try to lean +forward. I'll bring the little table Grandpapa bought, so;" she hurried +over across the room and wheeled it into place. "Now isn't that fine, +Phronsie?" as the long wing swung over the bed. "Did you ever see such +a tea-party as you and I'll have?" + +"Breakfast party, Mamsie!" hummed Phronsie; "isn't that just lovely?" +wriggling her toes under the bed-clothes. "Do you think Sarah'll ever +bring that apple?" + +"Yes, indeed--why, here she is now!" announced Mrs. Fisher cheerily. +"Come in, Sarah," as a rap sounded on the door. "Our little girl is all +ready for that good apple. My! what a fine one." + +"Bless honey's heart!" ejaculated Sarah, her black face shining with +delight. "Ain't he a beauty, though?" setting down on the table-wing a +pink plate in the midst of which reposed an apple whose crackling skin +disclosed a toothsome interior. "I bring a pink sasser so's to match +his insides. But ain't he rich, though!" + +"Sarah," said Phronsie, with hungry eyes on the apple, "I think he is +very nice indeed, and I do thank you for bringing him." + +"Bless her precious heart!" cried Sarah, her hands on her ample hips, +and her mouth extended in the broadest of smiles. + +"Do get me a spoon, Mamsie," begged Phronsie, unable to take her gaze +from the apple. "I'm so glad he has a stem on, Sarah," carefully +picking at it. + +"Well, there," said Sarah, "I had the greatest work to save that stem. +But, la! I wouldn't 'a' brung one without a stem. I know'd you'd want +it to hold it up by, when you'd eat the most off." + +"Yes, I do," said Phronsie, in great satisfaction fondling the stem. + +"And here's your spoon," said her mother, bringing it. "Now, child, +enjoy it to your heart's content." + +Phronsie set the spoon within the cracked skin, and drew it out +half-full. "Oh, Mamsie!" she cried, as her teeth closed over it, "do +just taste; it's so good!" + +"Hee-hee!" laughed Sarah, "I guess 'tis. Such works as I had to bake +dat apple just right. But he's a beauty, ain't he, though?" + +Phronsie did not reply, being just at that moment engaged in conveying +a morsel as much like her own as possible, to her mother's mouth. + +"Seems to me I never tasted such an apple," said Mother Fisher, slowly +swallowing the bit. + +"Did you, now?" cried Sarah. + +Downstairs Polly was dancing around the music-room with three or four +girls who had dropped in on their way from school. + +"Give me a waltz now, Polly," begged Philena. "Dear me, I haven't had a +sight of you hardly, for so long, I am positively starved for you. I +don't care for you other girls now," she cried, as the two went +whirling down the long room together. + +"Thank you, Miss Philena," cried the others, seizing their partners and +whirling off too. + +"I feel as if I could dance forever," cried Polly, when Amy Garrett +turned away from the piano and declared she would play no more--and she +still pirouetted on one foot, to come up red as a rose to the group. + +"Look at Polly's cheeks!" cried Amy. + +"You've been a white little minx so long," said Alexia, putting a fond +arm around Polly; "I went home and cried every day, after I would steal +around the back way to see how Phronsie was"-- + +"Won't Phronsie be downstairs soon?" asked Amy. + +"I don't know," said Polly. "Papa-Doctor is going to be dreadfully +careful of her, that she doesn't get up too soon." + +"Say, Polly," cried another girl, "don't you have to take a lot of +pills and stuff, now that Dr. Fisher is your father?" + +Polly threw back her head and laughed merrily. It sounded so strangely +to her to hear the sound echoing through the room so long silent, that +she stopped suddenly. + +"Oh, girls! I can't hardly believe even yet that Phronsie is almost +well," she cried. + +"Well, you'd better," advised Alexia philosophically, "because she is, +you know. Do laugh again, Polly; it's good to hear you." + +"I can't help it," said Polly, "Cathie asked such a funny question." + +"Cathie's generally a goose," said Alexia coolly. + +"Thank you," said Cathie, a tall girl, with such light hair and sallow +face that she looked ten years older than her fourteen summers. "I +sometimes know quite as much as a few other people of my acquaintance," +she said pointedly. + +"I didn't say but that you did," said Alexia composedly. "I said you +were generally a goose. And so you are. Why, everybody knows that, +Cath." + +"Come, come, girls, don't fight," said Polly. "How can you when +Phronsie is getting better? Alexia didn't mean anything, Cathie." + +"Yes, she did," declared Cathie with a pout; "she's always meaning +something. She's the hatefullest thing I ever saw!" + +"Nonsense!" said Polly, with a gay little laugh. "She says perfectly +dreadful things to me, and so I do to her, but we don't either of us +mind them." + +"Well, those are in fun," said Cathie; "that's a very different +matter"-- + +"So you must make these in fun," said Polly. "I would if I were you." +But she drew away from Alexia's arm. + +"Polly, don't be an idiot and fight with me," whispered Alexia in her +ear. + +"Go away," said Polly, shaking her off. + +"Polly, Polly, I'll say anything if you won't look like that. See here, +Cathie, let's make up," and she ran over, seized the tall girl by the +waist and spun her around till she begged to stop. + +"Is that your way of making up?" cried Cathie, when she had the breath +to speak. + +"Yes; it is as good as any other way. It spins the nonsense out of you. +There!" with a last pat on the thin shoulder, she left her, and ran +back to Polly. + +"It's all done," she cried. "I'm at peace with the whole world. Now +don't look like an ogre any longer." + +"Phronsie's actually hungry now all the time," confided Polly in a +glow, "and we can't get enough to satisfy her." + +"Good--good!" cried the girls. + +"I'm going to send her some of my orange jelly," declared Alexia. "I'll +make it just as soon as I go home. Do you think she will like it, +Polly?" she asked anxiously. + +"Yes, I do believe she will," said Polly, "because she loves oranges +so." + +"Well, I shan't make any old orange jelly," cried Cathie, her nose in +the air. "Faugh! it's insipid enough!" + +"But 'tisn't when it's made the way Alexia makes it," said Polly, +viewing in alarm the widening of the breach between the two. "I've +eaten some of hers, and it's too splendid for anything." + +"I don't know anything about hers, but all orange jelly I have tasted +is just horrid. I hate it! I'm going to make almond macaroons. They're +lovely, Polly." + +"Oh! don't, Cathie," begged Polly in distress. + +"Why not, pray tell," whirling on one set of toes. "You needn't be +afraid they won't be good. I've made them thousands of times." + +"But she couldn't eat them," said Polly. "Just think, almond macaroons! +Why, Papa-Doctor would"-- + +"Now I know the doctor makes you take perfectly terrible things, and +won't let you eat anything. And macaroons are the only things I can +make. It's a shame!" and down sat Cathie in despair on an ottoman. + +"What's the matter?" Dr. Fisher put his head in at the doorway, his +spectacled eyes sending a swift glance of inquiry around. + +"O dear me!" exclaimed Cathie in a fright, jumping up and clutching the +arm of the girl next to her. "Don't let Polly tell him what I +said--don't." + +"Polly won't tell," said the girl, with a superb air; "don't you know +any better, Cathie Harrison, you goose, you!" + +To be called a goose by two persons in the course of an hour was too +much for Cathie's endurance, and flinging off the girl's arm, she cried +out passionately, "I won't stay; I'm going home!" and rushed out the +door. + +Dr. Fisher turned from a deliberate look at the girl's white cheeks, as +she ran past, to the flushed ones before him. + +"I'm very sorry that anything unpleasant has happened. I dropped in to +tell you of a little surprise, but I see it's no time now." + +"Oh, Papa-Doctor!" cried Polly, flying up to him from the center of the +group, "it was nothing--only"-- + +"A girl's quarrel is not a slight thing, Polly," said little Dr. Fisher +gravely, "and one of your friends has gone away very unhappy." + +"Oh! I know it," said Polly, "and I'm so sorry." + +"We can't any of us help it," said Alexia quickly. "Cathie Harrison has +the temper of a gorilla--so there, Dr. Fisher." + +Dr. Fisher set his spectacles straight, and looked at Alexia, but he +did not even smile, as she hoped he would do. "I can't help it," she +said, tracing the pattern of the carpet with the toe of her boot, "she +makes us all so uncomfortable, oh! you can't think. And I wish she'd +stay home forever." + +Still no answer from the doctor. He didn't act as if he heard, but +bowing gravely, he withdrew his head and shut the door. + +"O dear, dear!" cried Alexia, when they had all looked at each other a +breathing space. "Why didn't he speak? I'd much rather he'd scold like +everything than to look like that. Polly, why don't you say something?" + +"Because there isn't anything to say." Polly got no further, and turned +away, suspiciously near to tears. Was this the first meeting with the +girls to which she had looked forward so long? + +"To think of that Cathie Harrison making such a breeze," cried Alexia +angrily; "a girl who's just come among us, as it were, and we only let +her in our set because Miss Salisbury asked us to make things pleasant +for her. If it had been any one else who raised such a fuss!" + +Meantime Dr. Fisher strode out to the west porch, intending to walk +down to his office, and buttoning up his coat as he went along. As he +turned the angle in the drive, he came suddenly upon a girl who had +thrown herself down on a rustic seat under a tree, and whose shoulders +were shaking so violently that he knew she was sobbing, though he heard +no sound. + +"Don't cry," said the little doctor, "and what's the matter?" all in +the same breath, and sitting down beside her. + +Cathie looked up with a gasp, and then crushed her handkerchief over +her eyes. "Those girls in there are perfectly horrid." "Softly, +softly," said Dr. Fisher. + +"I can't--help it. No matter what I say, they call me names, and I'm +tired of it. O dear, dear!" + +"Now see here," said the doctor, getting up on his feet and drawing a +long breath. "I'm on my way to my office; suppose you walk along with +me a bit and tell me all about it." + +Cathie opened her mouth, intending to say, "Oh! I can't"--instead, she +found herself silent, and not knowing how, she was presently pacing +down the drive by the doctor's side. + +"Polly Pepper!" exclaimed Alexia, as a turn in the drive brought the +two figures in view of the music-room windows, "did you ever see such a +sight in your life? Cathie is walking off with Dr. Fisher! There isn't +anything her tongue won't say!" + +"Did you tell Polly?" cried Jasper, a half-hour later, putting his head +into Dr. Fisher's office. "Oh! beg pardon; I didn't know you were busy, +sir." + +"Come in," said the doctor, folding up some powders methodically. "No, +I didn't tell Polly." + +"Oh!" said Jasper, in a disappointed tone. + +"I hadn't a fair chance"-- + +"But she ought to know it just as soon as it's talked of," said Jasper, +fidgeting at a case of little vials on the table. "Oh! beg pardon +again. I'm afraid I've smashed that chap," as one rolled off to the +floor. "I'm no end sorry," picking up the bits ruefully. + +"I have several like it," said the doctor kindly, and settling another +powder in its little paper. + +"There were a lot of girls with Polly when I looked in upon her on my +way out. But we'll catch a chance to tell her soon, my boy." + +"Oh! I suppose so. A lot of giggling creatures. How Polly can stand +their chatter, I don't see," cried Jasper impatiently. + +"They've been shut off from Polly for some time, you know," said Dr. +Fisher quietly. "We must remember that." + +"Polly doesn't like some of them a bit better than I do," said Jasper +explosively, "only she puts up with their nonsense." + +"It's rather a difficult matter to pick and choose girls who are in the +same classes," said the doctor, "and Polly sees that." + +"Don't I know it?" exclaimed Jasper, in an astonished tone. "Dear me, +Dr. Fisher, I've watched Polly for years now. And she's always done +so." He stopped whirling the articles on the office table, and bestowed +a half-offended look on the little physician. + +"Softly, softly, Jasper," said Dr. Fisher composedly. "Of course you've +used your eyes. Now don't spoil things by saying anything, but let +Polly 'go her own gait,' I beg of you." Then he turned to his powders +once more. + +"She will, anyway," declared Jasper. "Whatever she makes up her mind to +do, Polly does that very thing." + +"Not a bad characteristic," laughed the doctor. + +"I should say not." + +"Now when I come up home for dinner, you and I will find Polly, and +tell her the good news. If she's with a lot of those silly girls, +I'll--I'll tear her off this time." Dr. Fisher glared so fiercely as he +declared this determination that Jasper laughed outright. + +"I thought no one was to disturb Polly's good intentions in that line," +he cried. + +"Well, there's an end to all things, and patience ceases to be a virtue +sometimes." + +"So I've thought a good many times, but I've borne it like a man." +Jasper drew himself up, and laughed again at the doctor's face. + +"Oh! you go along," cried Dr. Fisher, his eyes twinkling. "I'll meet +you just before dinner." + +"All right," as Jasper rushed off. + +Dr. Fisher jumped to his feet, pushing aside the litter of powder +papers, and bottles, and ran his fingers through the shock of gray hair +standing straight on his head. + +"Yes, yes," he muttered, walking to the window, "it will be a good +thing for Polly, now I tell you, Adoniram." He always preferred to +address himself by his first name; then he was sure of a listener. "A +vastly good thing. It's quite time that some of the intimacies with +these silly creatures are broken up a bit, while the child gains +immensely in other ways." He rubbed his palms gleefully. "Oh! +good-morning, good-morning!" + +A patient walking in, looked up at the jolly little doctor. "I wish I +could laugh like that," he ejaculated, his long face working in the +unusual effort to achieve a smile. + +"You would if you had a gay crowd of children such as I have," cried +the little doctor proudly. "Why, man, that's better than all my doses." + +"But I haven't the children," said the patient sourly, and sitting down +with a sigh. + +"I pity you, then," said Dr. Fisher, with the air of having been a +family man for years. "Well, besides owning the Peppers, I'm going off +with them to"--there he stopped, for before he knew it, the secret was +well-nigh out. + + + + +XIX + +PHRONSIE IS WELL AGAIN + + +But Polly was not to be told yet. When Papa Fisher walked in to dinner, +the merry party around the oak table were waiting over the ices and +coffee for his appearance. + +"Oh, Papa Fisher!" cried Polly in dismay, turning from one of Alexia's +sallies, and dropping her spoon. "Now you're all tired out--too bad!" + +Mother Fisher flushed up, and set her lips closely together. Ben looked +disapproval across the board, and Polly knew that the wrong thing had +been said. + +"Oh! I didn't mean--of course you must take care of the sick people," +she said impulsively. + +"Yes, I must," said Dr. Fisher wearily, and pushing up the shock of +gray hair to a stiffer brush over his brow. "That's what I set out to +do, I believe." + +"But that's no reason why you should tire yourself to death, and break +down the first year," said Mr. King, eyeing him sharply. "Zounds, man, +that isn't what I brought you up from the country for." + +Dr. Fisher looked into his wife's eyes and smiled. "I believe you +brought me," the smile said. But he kept his tongue still. + +"And you must get accustomed to seeing suffering that you can't help. +Why, man alive, the town's full of it; you can't expect to stop it +alone." + +"I'll do what I can to help," said the little doctor between his teeth, +and taking a long draught of the coffee his wife put by his plate. "I +suppose there's no objection to that. Now, that's good," smacking his +lips in a pleased way. + +"Of course not, if you help in the right way," said old Mr. King +stoutly, "but I'll wager anything that you're picking up all sorts of +odd jobs among the poor, that belong to the young doctors. Your place +is considerably higher, where you can pick and choose your patients." + +Dr. Fisher laughed--an odd little laugh, that along with its pleasant +note, carried the ring of a strong will. + +"Oh! well, you know, I'm too old to learn new ways," he said. "Better +let me wag on at the old ones." + +Mr. King gave an exclamation of disapproval. "It's lucky your time is +short," he said grimly, and the secret was nearly out! + +"Phronsie is coming downstairs to-morrow, isn't she?" asked Jasper +quickly, over to the doctor. + +"Oh! no, indeed, I think not," answered Mr. King before Dr. Fisher had +time to reply. "She would better wait a day or two longer. Isn't that +so, Doctor?" at last appealing to him. + +"I don't agree with you," the little doctor drew off his attention from +his plate. "You see she has regained her strength remarkably. Now the +quicker she is in the family life again, the better for her." + +"Oh, good! good!" cried Polly, delighted at the safe withdrawal from +the precipice of dangerous argument. "Alexia, now you must help us +think up something to celebrate her coming downstairs." + +"Not so fast, Polly." The little doctor beamed at her in a way +surprising to see after the morning's affair. "Phronsie won't be ready +for any celebration before next week. Then I think you may venture." + +Alexia pouted and played with her spoon. + +"O dear!" cried Dick dolefully, "what's the reason we must wait a whole +week, pray tell?" + +"Because Father Fisher says so," replied Ben across the table; "that's +the principal reason--and it doesn't need any more to support it"-- + +"Well, I tell you," broke in Polly in her brightest way, "let us think +up perfectly splendid things. It's best as it is, for it will take us a +week to get ready." + +"I shall get her a new doll," declared Mr. King. The rest shouted. "Her +others must be quite worn out." + +"What could you get her," cried Mr. Whitney, "in the way of a doll? Do +tell us, for I really do not see." + +"Why, one of those phonograph dolls, to be sure," cried Mr. King +promptly. + +"Are they on sale yet?" asked Jasper. "I thought they had not perfected +them enough for the market." + +"I think I know where one can be bought," said his father. "They must +be perfected--it's all nonsense that I can't find one if Phronsie wants +it! Yes, she shall have a phonograph doll." + +"That will be perfectly elegant," exclaimed Polly, with sparkling eyes. +"Won't Phronsie be delighted when she hears it talk?" + +"She ought to have a Punch and Judy show," said Mrs. Whitney, "she's +always so pleased with them, father." + +Mr. King pushed away his coffee-cup, and pulled out his note-book. + +"'Punch and Judy,' down that goes," he said, noting it after +"phonograph doll." "What else?" + +"Can't we have some of those boys up from the Orphan Asylum?" asked +Polly, after a minute in which everybody had done a bit of hard +thinking. "Phronsie loves to hear them sing when she goes there. Oh! +they are so cunning." + +"She'll want to give them her best toys and load them down with all her +possessions. You see if she doesn't," warned Jasper. + +"Well, she won't give away her new doll, anyway," cried Polly. + +"No, she never gives away one of the dolls you've given her, father," +said Mrs. Whitney slowly, "not a single one. I tried her one day, +asking her to give me one to bestow on a poor child, and she quite +reproached me by the look in her brown eyes. I haven't asked her since." + +"What did she say?" asked Mr. King abruptly. + +"'I can't, Auntie; dear Grandpapa gave them to me himself.' Then she +ran for her savings bank, and poured out the money in my lap. 'Let's go +out and buy the poor child a doll,' she begged, and I really had to do +it. And there must be at least two hundred dolls in this house." + +"Two hundred dolls!" cried Alexia in astonishment, and raising her +hands. + +"Why, yes; father has been bringing Phronsie dolls for the last five +years, with the greatest faithfulness, till her family has increased to +a painful extent." + +"O dear me!" cried Alexia, with great emphasis. "I should think they'd +be under foot in every room." + +"Well, indeed they're not," said Polly; "she keeps them up in her +playroom." + +"And the playroom closet," said Mrs. Whitney, "that is full. I peeped +in there yesterday, and the dolls are ranged according to the times +when father gave them to her." + +"And the baby-house is just crowded," laughed Jasper. "I know, because +I saw her moving out her chairs and tables to make room." + +"O dear me!" exclaimed Alexia again, for want of something else to say. + +"I just hate dolls," exploded Dick. "Faugh! how can girls play with +them; they're so silly. And Phronsie always has something to do for +hers, so she can't come when I want her to. I wish they were burned +up," he added vindictively. + +Mr. King rubbed his forehead in a puzzled way. "Perhaps she has +enough," he said at last. "Yet what shall I give her if I don't buy a +doll?" + +"I'd give her the phonograph one, father," said Mrs. Whitney, "anyway." + +"Yes, of course; but after that, what shall I do?" + +He looked so troubled that Mrs. Whitney hastened to say, "Oh, well, +father! you know when you are abr"--and the secret Was nearly out for +the second time! + +But they were saved by the appearance of Alexia's father, who often +dropped in on the edge of the dinner hour, for a second cup of coffee. + +The next morning Phronsie was waiting for Grandpapa King, who insisted +that no one else should carry her downstairs, the remainder of the +household in various stages of delight and expectation, revolving +around her, and curbing their impatience as best they might, in hall +and on staircase. + +"Oh, Grandpapa! do hurry," begged Dick, kicking his heels on the stairs. + +"Hush, Dicky boy," said mamma. "Grandpapa can't come till his agent is +gone. Don't you hear them talking in the library?" + +"Well I wish Mr. Frazer would take himself off; he's a nuisance," +declared the boy. "He's been here a whole hour." + +"Here comes Grandpapa!" announced Polly gleefully, from a station +nearer the library. "Hush, now, Mr. Frazer's going!" + +The library door opening at this announcement, and a few sentences +charged with business floating up the staircase, the bustle around +Phronsie became joyfully intense. + +"Mamsie, don't you think she ought to have a shawl on?" cried Polly +anxiously, running over the stairs. "She's been shut up so long!" + +"No," said Mother Fisher. "Doctor told me particularly not to bundle +her up. It was the last thing he said before he went to his office." + +"Well," said Polly with a sigh, "then there isn't absolutely anything +more to do for her. Why doesn't Grandpapa come?" + +"You are worse than Dicky," said Mrs. Fisher with a little laugh. "Dear +me, Polly, just think how old you are." + +Phronsie stood quite still in the middle of the floor and folded her +hands. "I want to see Grandpapa all alone when he comes up," she said. + +"What for?" cried Polly, pausing in astonishment. + +"Do you want us all to go out, Phronsie?" asked her mother slowly. + +"Yes," said Phronsie, shaking her yellow head with great decision, +"please every single one go out, Mamsie. I want to see Grandpapa quite +alone." + +"All right, child," said Mrs. Fisher, with a look at Polly. So after a +little demur and consequent delay on the part of the others, the door +was closed and she was left standing all alone. + +Phronsie drew a long breath. "I wish Grandpapa would come," she said to +herself. + +"And so you wanted me, did you, dear?" cried Mr. King joyfully, as he +hurried in and closed the door carefully. "Well, now, see if I can +guess what you want to tell me." + +"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, standing quite still and turning a puzzled +face toward him, "I don't want to tell you anything; I want to ask you +something." + +"Well, well, dear, what is it?" Old Mr. King, not stopping for a chair, +leaned over her and stroked her yellow head. "Now, then, look up, and +ask me right off, Phronsie." + +"Must a person keep a promise?" asked Phronsie, "a really and truly +promise, Grandpapa?" + +"Yes, yes," said the old gentleman with great abruptness, "to be sure +one must, Phronsie. To be sure. So now if any one has promised you +anything, do you make him stick to it. It's mean enough to break your +word, child." + +Phronsie drew a long breath. + +"That's all, Grandpapa," she said, and lifting up her arms; "now take +me downstairs, please." She laid a cool little cheek against his, as he +raised her to his shoulder. + +"Remember what I say, Phronsie," laughed Mr. King, his mind more intent +on the delightful fact that he was carrying down the longed-for burden +to the family life, than on what he was saying, "and if any one has +promised you anything, keep him up sharp to pay you. I verily believe +it is that scamp Dick. Here goes!" and reaching the door he threw it +wide. "Forward, march!" + +"Well, is the important conference over?" asked Polly, with a keen look +at them both. + +Mrs. Fisher's eyes did their duty, but she said nothing. + +"Yes, indeed," declared Mr. King, marching on gaily. "Now clear the way +there, all you good people. Here, you Dick, drumming your heels, go +ahead, sir." + +"I'm glad enough to," shouted Dick, racing down the remainder of the +stairs. "Halloo, Phronsie," waving his hand at her, "three cheers and a +tiger! Bother! Here comes Mrs. Chatterton." + +Which was quite true. To every one's astonishment the door of that +lady's apartment opened slowly, disclosing her in new morning wrapper, +preparing to join the cavalcade. + +"Good morning, Cousin Eunice," cried Mr. King gaily. He could be merry +with any one this day. "Come on, this is a festal occasion, you see; +Phronsie's going downstairs for the first time. Fall into line!" + +"I'm not able to go down," said Mrs. Chatterton, coming slowly out into +the hall, "but I'll stand here and see the parade." + +"Bully!" exploded Dick softly, peering up from the foot of the stairs. + +Phronsie looked over Mr. King's shoulder at her as she was borne down +the stairs, and, putting out her hand, "I'm all well now," she said. + +"Yes, I see," said Mrs. Chatterton. Then she pulled up her white shawl +with a shiver. "It's rather cold here," she said; "after all, I believe +I must get back to my room." + +Nobody noticed when she crept back, the hilarity now being so great +below stairs. + +"I certainly am losing ground," she muttered, "every little thing +affects me so. I'll step into Bartram's office next time I go down town +and set that little matter straight, since I've made up my mind to do +it. It never would do to let him come to the house. Horatio would +suspect something to see my lawyer here, and the whole household +imagine I was going to die right off. No, no; I must go there, that's +clear. Then if it's attended to, I'll live all the longer, with nothing +on my mind." + +Phronsie, meanwhile, was going around from room to room in a pleased +way, and touching different objects gently "Everything's new, isn't it, +Polly," she said at last, "when you stay upstairs? Oh! there's my +kittens in the basket," pointing to a bisque vase on the table. + +"Yes," said Polly; "Mamsie brought it in here. And we've some flowers; +Alexia sent them over. They're out in the back hall; we saved them for +you to put in yourself." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Phronsie, "that's so good in you, Polly." + +"Don't stop now," cried Dick in disgust. "Faugh! you can fix flowers +any time. Come out into the dining-room--and you'll see something +you'll like." + +Phronsie smothered a sigh, and turned slowly away from the kittens +waiting in their basket for Alexia's flowers. "Come on!" shouted Dick, +seizing her hand. "You never can guess what it is, in all this world." + +"Is it a new dog?" asked Phronsie fearfully, whose memory of Dick's +latest purchase was not altogether happy. + +"No," said Dick, pulling her on, "better than that." + +"Don't hurry her so," said Polly. "What have you got, Dick?" + +"Now, do you mind, sir," cried Jasper, "else well stop your pretty +plan." + +"I won't hurry her," said Dick, slackening his gait. "Well, here we +are," opening the dining-room door. "Why, Jane has let it out!" + +Phronsie fell back a step at this and tried to cover her feet with her +gown, searching the floor for the "it." + +"Lookout!" cried Dick suddenly. "There he goes!" And something whirred +over Phronsie's head. + +"Oh! what is it?" she cried, tumbling into Jasper's arms and clasping +his neck. "Oh! oh!" + +"Why, it's a swallow," cried Dick, in the babel that ensued, "a +beautiful one, too. I've just caught him, and I made Jane let me bring +it in here to surprise you," he added proudly. + +"Well, you've succeeded," cried Jasper, holding Phronsie close. "There, +there, child, it's all right. It's a bird, Phronsie, and he's gone +upstairs." + +"He'll frighten my dolls," cried Phronsie in new alarm, hanging to +Jasper's neck. "Oh! do let us go upstairs, and tell them he's only a +bird." + +"Run along, Dick, and catch your old bird," cried Jasper, "and clear +out with him--quick now!" + +"He's the best thing there is in this house," cried Dick, going over +the back stairs two at a time. "Girls are so silly." + +"Bring him down," said Polly, moving along to the foot, "and I'll show +him to Phronsie, and tell her about him. Then she'll like him, Dick." + +"I'll like him, Dick," echoed Phronsie, "if he doesn't frighten my +dolls." + +This episode taking the family life to the rear of the house, no one +noticed that soft footsteps were passing through the open front door, +that Jane, who was sweeping the vestibule, had left ajar to run and +tell Dick that she had not let the bird out of the dining-room. So the +uninvited guest to the household let himself up easily to the scene of +his hopes--the location of the ladies' jewel-boxes. + + + + +XX + +THE SECRET + + +Mrs. Chatterton, standing by her toilet table, carefully examining her +wealth of gray hair to note the changes in its tint, was suddenly +surprised in the very act of picking out an obnoxious white hair, by a +slight noise in the further corner of the apartment. And dropping her +fingers quickly and turning away from the glass, she exclaimed, "How +dare you, Hortense, come in without knocking?" + +"If you make a noise I'll kill you," declared a man, standing in the +shadow of a portiere and watching her underneath a slouched black hat. +There was a slight click that caused the listener's nerves to thrill. +But her varied life had brought her nothing if not self-control, and +she coolly answered, "If you want my money, say so." + +"Not exactly money, ma'am," said the man, "for I don't suppose you have +much here. But I'll thank you to hand over that there box of diamonds." +He extended the other hand with its dingy fingers toward a large ebony +jewel-case elaborate with its brass hinges, and suggestive of double +locks, on a corner of the table. + +"If you are determined to take it, I suppose I must give it to you," +said Mrs. Chatterton, with evident reluctance handing the box +designated, very glad to think she had but a few days before changed +the jewels to another repository to escape Hortense's prying eyes. In +making the movement she gave a sweeping glance out the window. Should +she dare to scream? Michael was busy on the lawn, she knew; she could +hear his voice talking to one of the under gardeners. + +"See here, old lady," warned the man, "you keep your eyes in the room. +Now then," his greedy glance fastened on the glittering gems on her +fingers, "I'll thank you to rip them things off." Dick, racing along +the further end of the hall after his bird with a "Whoop, la--I've +almost caught you," startling him, he proceeded to perform the service +for himself. + +"There he goes!" cried Dick, "in her room. Bother! Well, I must catch +him." So without the preamble of knocking, the boy dashed into the +dressing-room. The bird whizzing ahead of him, flashed between the +drawn folds of the portiere. + +"Excuse me," cried Dick, rushing in, "but my swallow--oh!" + +"Go back!" cried Mrs. Chatterton hoarsely, "you'll be killed." + +The bird flying over his head, and the appearance of the boy, +disconcerted the robber for one instant. He held the long white hand in +his, tearing off the rings. There was no chance for her to escape, she +knew, but she could save Dick. + +"Go back!" she screamed again. There was only a moment to think, but +Dick dashed in, and with a mighty spirit, but small fists, he flung +himself against the stalwart arms and shoulders. + +"O heavens!" screamed Mrs. Chatterton. "He's but a boy, let him go. You +shall have the rings. Help--help!" + +Dick, clutching and tearing blindly at whatever in the line of hair or +ragged garment he could lay hold of, was waging an unequal warfare. But +what he did was accomplished finely. And the bird, rushing blindly into +the midst of the contention, with whirrings and flappings +indescribable, helped more than an army of servants, to confuse the +man. Notwithstanding, it was soon over, but not before Mrs. Chatterton +had wrenched her fingers free, and grasped the pistol from its loose +hold in his other hand. The box under his arm fell to the floor, and +Dick was just being tossed to the other side of the room; she could +hear him strike the cheval-glass with a dull thud. + +"I can shoot as well as you," said Mrs. Chatterton, handling the pistol +deftly. "Make a noise, and I will." + +He knew it, by her eyes, and that she had taken good aim. + +"Where are you, Dick?" cried Polly's voice outside, and rapping at the +door. "Mrs. Chatterton, have you seen him?" + +"Come in," called Mrs. Chatterton, with firmest of fingers on the +trigger and her flashing eyes fastened upon the seamed, dirty face +before her. + +Polly threw wide the door. + +"We have a man here that we don't want," said Mrs. Chatterton. "I'll +take care of him till you get help. Hurry!" + +"Oh, Dick!" cried Polly in a breath, with a fearful glance at the boy +lying there. + +"I think he's all right, Polly." She dared say no more, for Dick had +not stirred. + +Polly clasped her hands, and rushed out almost into Jasper's face. "A +burglar--a burglar!" and he dashed into Mrs. Chatterton's room. + +"Don't interfere," said Mrs. Chatterton. "I'm a splendid markswoman." + +"You needn't shoot," said the man sullenly. "I won't stir." + +"No, I don't think you will," said the gray-haired woman, her eyes +alight, and hand firm as a rock. "Well, here are the men." + +Jasper had seized a table-spread, and as Michael and the undergardeners +advanced, he went back of the robber, and cleverly threw it over his +head. It was easy to secure and bind him then. Polly rushed over to +Dick. + +"Turn the creature over and let us see how he looks," said Mr. King, +hurrying in as the last knot of the rope was made fast. The old +slouched hat had fallen off in the struggle, and the man's features +came plainly to view. "He's no beauty, and that's a fact." + +"I've seen that fellow round here for many a day," said Michael, giving +the recumbent legs a small kick. "Oncet he axed me ef we wanted ony +wourk done. I mind yees, yer see," with another attention from his +gardening boot. + +"I want to tie one rope," cried a voice. Dick opened his eyes, rubbed +them, and felt of his head. "I'm all right, Polly. I saw stars, but +I've got over it, I guess. Let me give him the last knot." He staggered +blindly to his feet. + +"I'll tie for you," said Jasper, "trust me, Dick's all right, only +stunned," he telegraphed to the rapidly increasing group. + +"Tell his mother so, do, somebody," said old Mr. King. + +"Well, Cousin Eunice, you've covered yourself with glory," he turned on +her warmly. She had thrown aside the pistol, and now sank into a chair. + +"Never mind," she waved it off carelessly, "I'll imagine the +compliments. Just now I want a glass of wine. Call Hortense, will you?" + +The man on the floor tried to raise his head. But he couldn't, so was +obliged to content himself with an ugly grin. + +"That bird has flown," he said. "I'll peep. She put me up to it; we was +goin' shares on the old lady's stuff." + +With that Mrs. Chatterton's spirit returned. She sprang from her chair, +and rushed around from bureau to closet to see the extent of her maid's +dishonesty. But beyond a few minor deficiencies of her wardrobe, there +was no robbery to speak of. Evidently Hortense had considered it unwise +to be burdened with much impedimenta. So the robber was hauled off to +justice, and Phronsie, coming wonderingly up the stairs, came softly in +upon them, in time to see Dick rush up to Mrs. Chatterton with a +"You're a brick!" before them all. + +After that, there was no more hope of keeping things quiet in the house +for Phronsie's sake. Meanwhile the bird, who had played no mean part in +the engagement, now asserted himself, and blindly rushed into capture. + +"Isn't he lovely!" cried Phronsie, tearing her gaze off from the +wonderful wings, as the swallow fluttered under the mosquito netting +speedily brought in. + +"Yes, his wings are," said Polly. "Oh, Dick! do tell over again how it +all happened." + +So Dick rehearsed once more as far as he knew the story, tossing off +lightly his part of it. + +"Your poor head, does it ache?" cried Polly, feeling of the big bump on +the crown. + +"No, not a bit," declared Dick, shaking his brown poll. "I'm glad I +didn't crack the glass." + +"That heavy plate?" cried Polly, looking over at the cheval-glass with +a shiver. + +Phronsie deserted the fascinating bird, and began to smooth Dick's head +with both hands. + +"Do let me bathe it," she begged. "I'll get the Pond's Extract." + +"No, I won't," said Dick. "It smells awfully, and I've had so much of +it for my leg. I'm all right, Phronsie. See his wings now--he's +stretching." + +But Phronsie was not to be diverted from her purpose. + +"I'll get bay rum," she said. "May I?" + +Dick made a wry face. "Worse and worse." + +"Cologne, then." + +"No, I hate it." + +"He doesn't want it bathed, Phronsie dear," said Polly. "Boys like to +get hurt, you know. 'Tisn't manly to be fixed up." + +Phronsie gave a sigh, which so went to Dick's heart, that he said, "All +right, bring on some water if you want to. But don't get any brown +paper; I had enough of that when I was a boy." + +And at the end of that exciting day, the secret came out, after all, in +rather a tame fashion. Dr. Fisher and Jasper met Polly in an angle of +the hall, as she was running upstairs after dinner for her schoolbooks. + +"Polly," asked the little doctor, putting both hands on her shoulders, +and looking into the brown eyes, "should you be willing to go abroad +with your mother and Phronsie, Mr. King and Jasper?" + +"Oh!" Polly gasped. "But you?" came in a later breath, "we couldn't +leave you," she cried loyally. + +"Well, I suppose I should go along too," said the little doctor, +enjoying her face. + +"Why, Jasper Elyot King!" cried Polly, slipping out from under the +doctor's palms, and seizing the two hands extended, she began to spin +around as in the olden days, "did you ever, ever hear of anything so +perfectly magnificent! But Ben and Joel and Davie!" and she paused on +the edge of another pirouette. + +Dr. Fisher made haste to answer, "Polly, Mrs. Whitney will take care of +them." And Jasper led her off into the dance again. + +"How can we ever leave the boys! Oh! I don't see," cried Polly, a bit +reproachfully, her hair blown over her rosy cheeks. As they danced +lightly down the long hall, Dr. Fisher leaned against a pillar, and +watched them. + +"Have to," said Jasper, guiding his partner deftly in the intricacies +of the chairs and statuary. "That's a good spin, Polly," he said, as +they brought up by the little doctor's side. + +"Lovely!" said Polly, pushing back her locks from the sparkling eyes. + +"I'm almost tempted to dance myself," said Dr. Fisher. "If I wasn't +such an old fellow, I'd try; that is, if anybody asked me." + +"I will," said Polly, laughing. "Come, Papa Fisher," holding out her +hand, "do give me the honor." + +"All right," said Dr. Fisher bravely. So Jasper took the deserted post +by the pillar, and whistled a Strauss waltz. Thereupon a most +extraordinary hopping up and down the hall was commenced, the two +figures bobbing like a pair of corks on a quivering water-surface. + +The doors opened, and several faces appeared, amongst the number Mrs. +Fisher's. + +"I couldn't help it," said the little doctor, coming up red and +animated, and wiping his forehead. His spectacles had fallen off long +since, and he had let them go. "It looked so nice to see Jasper and +Polly, I thought I'd try it. I didn't suppose I'd get on so well; I +really believe I can dance." + +"Humph!" laughed Mr. King, "it looks like it. Just see Polly." + +"Oh, Papa Fisher!" cried Polly with a merry peal in which Jasper, +unpuckering his lips from the Strauss effort, had joined, "we must have +looked"--Here she went off again. + +"Yes," said Jasper, "you did. That's just it, Polly, you did. Lucky you +two caperers didn't break anything." + +"Well, if you've got through laughing," observed Dr. Fisher, "I'll +remark that the secret is out." + +"Do you like it, Polly?" asked Mr. King, holding out his hand. "Say, my +girl?" And then before she could answer, he went on, "You see, we can't +do anything without a doctor on our travels. Now Providence has given +us one, though rather an obstinate specimen," he pointed to Father +Fisher. "And he wants to see the hospitals, and you want to study a bit +of music, and your mother wants rest, and Jasper and Phronsie and I +want fun, so we're going, that's all." + +"When?" demanded Polly breathlessly. + +"In a month." + + + + +XXI + +THE WHITNEYS' LITTLE PLAN + + +"I think it's a mean shame," cried Joel, on a high vindictive key. +"You've had burglars here twice, and I haven't been home." + +"You speak as if we appointed the meeting, Joe," said Ben with a laugh. + +"Well, it's mean, anyway," cried Joel, with a flash of his black eyes. +"Now there won't any come again in an age." + +"Goodness, I hope not," ejaculated Mr. King, lowering his newspaper to +peer over its top. + +"I'd have floored him," declared Joel, striking out splendidly from the +shoulder, "if I'd only have been here." + +"All very well," said Percy negligently, "but you weren't here," and he +laughed softly. + +"Do you mean to say that I couldn't have handled the burglar?" demanded +Joel belligerently, and advancing on Percy, "say? Because if you do, +why, I'll try a bout with you." + +"I didn't say anything what you could or couldn't do. I said you +weren't here, and you weren't. That's enough," and Percy turned his +back on him, thrust his hands in the pockets of his morning jacket and +stalked to the window. + +Van opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and gave a +low whistle. Joel, finding no enthusiasm for tales of his fighting +prowess, ran off to interview Dick on the old topic of the burglary and +to obtain another close account of its details. + +"To think Phronsie saw the other burglar five years ago, and now Dick +was on hand for this one--those two babies," he fumed, "and none of us +men around." + +"Percy," said Van, "come out in the hall, will you?" + +"What do you want?" asked Percy lazily. + +"Oh! you come along," cried Van, laying hold of his jacket. "See here," +dropping his voice cautiously, as he towed him successfully out, "let's +give Joe a chance to see a burglar; he wants to so terribly." + +"What do you mean?" asked Percy, with astonished eyes, his hands still +in his pockets. + +Van burst into a loud laugh, then stopped short. "It'll take two of +us," he whispered. + +"Oh, Van!" exclaimed Percy, and pulling his hands from their resting +places, he clapped them smartly together. + +"But we ought not, I really suppose," he said at last, letting them +fall to his sides. "Mamma mightn't like it, you know." + +"She wouldn't mind," said Van, yet he looked uneasy. "It would be a +great comfort to every one, to take Joe down. He does yarn so." + +"It's an old grudge with you," said Percy pleasantly. "You know he beat +you when you were a little fellow, and he'd just come." + +"As if I cared for that," cried Van in a dudgeon, "that was nothing. I +didn't half try; and he went at me like a country sledge-hammer." + +"Yes, I remember," Percy nodded placidly, "and you got all worsted and +knocked into a heap. Everybody knew it." + +"Do you suppose I'd pound a visitor?" cried Van wrathfully, his cheeks +aflame. "Say, Percy Whitney?" + +"No, I don't," said Percy, "not when 'twas Joe." + +"That's just it. He was Polly's brother." + +At mention of Polly, Percy's color rose, and he put out his hand. "Beg +pardon, Van," he said. "Here, shake, and make up. I forgot all about +our promise," he added penitently. + +"I forgot it, too," declared Van, quieting down, and thrusting out his +brown palm to meet his brother's. "Well, I don't care what you say if +you'll only go halves in this lark," he finished, brightening up. + +"Well, I will," said Percy, to make atonement. + +"Come up to our room, then, and think it out," cried Van gleefully, +flying over the stairs three at a bound. "Sh--sh! and hurry up!" + +Just then the door-bell gave a loud peal, and Jencks the butler opened +it to receive a box about two feet long and one broad. + +"For Miss Phronsie Pepper," said the footman on the steps, holding it +out, "but it's not to be given to her till to-morrow." + +"All right," said Jencks, taking it. "That's the sixth box for Miss +Phronsie that I've took in this morning," he soliloquized, going down +the hall and reading the address carefully. "And all the same size." + +"Ding-a-ling," Jencks laid the parcel quickly on one of the oaken +chairs in the hall, and hurried to the door, to be met by another +parcel for "Miss Phronsie Pepper: not to be given to her till +to-morrow." + +"And the i-dentical size," he ejaculated, squinting at it as he went +back to pick up the first parcel, "as like as two peas, they are." + +Upstairs Polly was at work with happy fingers, Alexia across the room, +asking every third minute, "Polly, how does it go? O dear! I can't do +anything unless you look and see if it's right." + +And Polly would turn her back on a certain cloud of white muslin and +floating lace, and flying off to Alexia to give the necessary +criticism, with a pull here and a pat there, would set matters +straight, presently running back to her own work again. + +"You see," she said, "everything must be just right, for next to +Mamsie's wedding, this is to be the most important occasion, Alexia +Rhys, that we've ever known. We can't have anything too nice for +Phronsie's getting-well party." + +"That's so," said Alexia, twitching a pink satin bow on the handle of a +flower-basket. "O dear me! this bow looks like everything! I've tried +six different times to make it hang down quite careless and refined. +And just to provoke me, it pokes up like a stiff old thing in my face. +Do come and tie it, Polly." + +So Polly jumped up again, and laying determined fingers on the +refractory bow, sent it into a shape that Alexia protested was "too +lovely for anything." + +"Are you going to have a good-by party?" asked Alexia after a minute. + +"I suppose so," said Polly. "Grandpapa said I would better, but O dear +me, I don't believe I can ever get through with it in all this world," +and Polly hid her face behind a cloud of muslin that was slowly coming +into shape as a dress for one of Phronsie's biggest dolls. + +"It will be dreadful," said Alexia, with a pathetic little sniff, and +beginning on a second pink bow, "but then, you know, it's your duty to +go off nicely, and I'm sure you can't do it, Polly, without a farewell +party." + +"Yes," said Polly slowly, "but then I'd really rather write little +notes to all the girls. But I suppose they'll all enjoy the party," she +added. + +"Indeed they will," declared Alexia quickly. "O dear me, I wish I was +going with you. You'll have a perfectly royal time. + +"I'm going to work hard at my music, you know," declared Polly, raising +her head suddenly, a glow on her round cheek. + +"Oh! well, you'll only peg away at it when you've a mind," said Alexia +carelessly, and setting lazy stitches. "Most of the time you'll be +jaunting around, seeing things, and having fun generally. Oh! don't I +wish I was going with you." + +"Alexia Rhys!" cried Polly in astonishment, and casting her needle from +her, she deserted the muslin cloud summarily. "Only peg away when I +have the mind?" she repeated indignantly. "Well, I shall have the mind +most of the time, I can tell you. Why, that's what I am going abroad +for, to study music. How can I ever teach it, if I don't go, pray +tell?" she demanded, and now her eyes flashed, and her hands worked +nervously. + +"Oh! nonsense," cried Alexia, not looking at the face before her, and +going on recklessly, "as if that meant anything, all that talk about +your being a music-teacher, Polly," and she gave a little incredulous +laugh. + +Polly got out of her chair somehow, and stood very close to the fussing +fingers over the pink satin bow. "Do you never dare say that to me +again," she commanded; "it's the whole of my life to be a +music-teacher--the very whole." + +"Oh, Polly!" down went the satin bow dragging with it Alexia's spool of +silk and the dainty scissors. "Don't--don't--I didn't mean anything; +but you really know that Mr. King will never let you be a music-teacher +in all this world. Never; you know it, Polly. Oh! don't look like that; +please don't." + +"He will," said Polly, in a low but perfectly distinct voice, "for he +has promised me." + +"Well, he'll get out of it somehow," said Alexia, her evil genius +urging her on, "for you know, Polly, it would be too queer for any of +his family, and--and a girl of our set, to turn out a music-teacher. +You know, Polly, that it would." + +And Alexia smiled in the most convincing way and jumped up to throw her +arms around her friend. + +"If any of the girls in our set," said Polly grandly, and stepping off +from Alexia, "wish to draw away from me, they can do so now. I am to be +a music-teacher; I'm perfectly happy to be one, I want you all to +understand. Just as happy as I can possibly be in all this world. Why, +it's what I've been studying and working for, and how else do you +suppose I can ever repay dear Grandpapa for helping me?" Her voice +broke, and she stopped a minute, clasping her hands tightly to keep +back the rush of words. + +"Oh, Polly!" cried Alexia in dismay, and beginning to whimper, she +tried again to put her arm around her. + +"Don't touch me," said Polly, waving her off with an imperative hand. + +"Oh, Polly! Polly!" + +"And the rest of our set may feel as you do; then I don't want them to +keep on liking me," said Polly, with her most superb air, and drawing +off further yet. + +"Polly, if you don't stop, you'll--you'll kill me," gasped Alexia. "Oh, +Polly! I don't care what you are. You may teach all day if you want to, +and I'll help get you scholars. I'll do anything, and so will all the +girls; I know they will. Polly, do let me be your friend just as I was. +O, dear, dear! I wish I hadn't said anything--I wish I had bitten my +tongue off; I didn't think you'd mind it so much," and now Alexia broke +down, and sobbed outright. + +"You've got to say it's glorious to teach," said Polly, unmoved, and +with her highest air on, "and that you're glad I'm going to do it." + +"It's glo--glorious to teach," mumbled poor Alexia behind her wet +handkerchief. + +"And I'm glad you're going to do it," dictated Polly inflexibly. + +"I'm glad you're going to do it," echoed Alexia in a dismal tone. + +"Then I'll be your friend once more," consented Polly with a slow step +toward Alexia, "that is, if you never in all this world say such a +dreadful thing again, Alexia Rhys." + +"Don't ask me. You know I won't," promised Alexia, her spirits rising. +So Polly went over to her and set a kiss on her wet cheek, comforting +her as only Polly could, and before long the pink satin bow, with the +spool of silk hanging to it, and the scissors were found under the +table, and Polly attacked the muslin cloud with redoubled vigor, and +the girls' voices carried merry laughter and scraps of happy talk, and +Mrs. Chatterton stole out of the little reading-room next to them and +shut herself up in her own apartment. + +"Dear me, how fine that doll's gown is to be, Polly," exclaimed Alexia +after a bit. "Is the lace going on all around the bottom?" + +"Yes," said Polly, biting off her thread, and giving the muslin +breadths a little shake; "Felicie is tucking the flounce; then I shall +have to sew on the lace." + +"How many dolls are there to refurbish before to-morrow?" asked Alexia +suddenly. + +"Four--no, five," said Polly, rapidly counting; "for the one that +Grandpapa gave her Christmas before last, Celestine, you know, does +need a new waist. I forgot her. But that doesn't count the new sashes, +and the hair ribbons and the lace ruffles around the necks; I guess +there are almost fifty of them. Dear me, I must hurry," and she began +to sew faster yet. + +"What a nuisance all those dolls are," said Alexia, "they take up every +bit of your spare time." + +"That isn't the worst of it," said Polly. "Alexia, I don't know what we +shall do, for Phronsie works over them till she's quite tired out. You +ought to see her this morning." + +"She's up in the play-house at it now, I suppose," said Alexia, +"dressing every one of them for the party to-morrow." + +"Yes," said Polly, "she is." + +"Well, I hope no one will give her a doll to-morrow," said Alexia, "at +least no one but Mr. King. Of course he will." + +"Oh! no one else will," declared Polly cheerfully. "Of course not, +Alexia." + +And then Jencks walked in with his seven boxes exactly alike as to +size, and deposited them solemnly in a row on the blue and white +lounge. "For Miss Phronsie Pepper, and not to be opened till to-morrow, +Miss Mary." + +"Polly," said Alexia in a stage whisper, and jumping up as Jencks +disappeared, to run over to the row, "do you suppose they are dolls?" + +"I shall die if they are," declared Polly desperately, and sitting +quite still. + +"They surely look like dolls on the very covers," said Alexia, +fingering the cords. "Would it be so very wrong to open one box, and +just relieve our suspense? Just one, Polly?" + +"No, no, don't," cried Polly sharply. "They belong to Phronsie. But O +dear me!" + +"And just think," said Alexia, like a Job's comforter, and looking over +at the clock, "it's only half-past eleven. Polly Pepper, there's time +for oceans more to come in yet." + +"It's perfectly horrid to get such a scrap of an outing," said Joel +that night, sprawling on the rug before the library fire, "only four +days! Why couldn't Mr. Marks be sick longer than that, if he was going +to be sick at all, pray?" + +"These four days will give you strength for your 'exams,' won't they, +Joe?" asked Van. + +Joel turned his black eyes on him and coolly said "Yes," then made a +wry face, doubled up a bit of paper, and aimed it at Van. + +Davie sighed, and looked up anxiously. "I hope Mr. Marks will come out +all right so that we can go back Monday." + +"I only hope he'll stay ill," said Joel affectionately. "'Tisn't safe +anyway for us to go back Monday. It may be typhoid fever, you know, +Mamsie," looking over at her. + +"They'll let us know soon enough if that's the case," said Mother +Fisher in the lamp-light over by the center-table. "No, I expect your +letter to-morrow will say 'Come Monday.'" + +"Well, it's a downright shame for us to be pulled off so soon," cried +Joel indignantly, sitting straight. + +"Think how soon the term ends, Joe," cried Polly, "then you have such a +long outing." She sighed as she thought of the separation to come, and +the sea between them. + +"That's nothing; only a dreadful little time--soon will be gone," +grunted Joel, turning his face to look at the brightly-leaping flames +the cool evening had made necessary. + +Ben glanced over at Polly. "Don't talk of the summer," he was going to +say, but stopped in time. Phronsie set her doll carefully in the corner +of the sofa, and went over to Joel. + +"Does your head ache often at school, Joel?" she asked, softly laying +her cool little palm on his stubby hair. + +"Yes," said Joel, "it does, awfully, Phronsie; and nobody cares, and +says 'Stop studying." + +A shout greeted this. + +"That's too bad," said Phronsie pityingly, "I shall just write and ask +Mr. Marks if he won't let you stop and rest when it aches." + +"'Twouldn't do any good, Phronsie," said Joel, "nothing would. He's a +regular old grinder, Marks is." + +"Mr. Marks," said Phronsie slowly, "I don't know who you mean by Marks, +Joel. And what is a grinder, please?" getting down on her knees to look +in his face. + +"And he works us boys so, Phronsie--you can't think," said Joel, +ignoring the question. + +"What is a grinder, Joel, please tell me," repeated Phronsie with +gentle persistence. + +"Oh! a grinder is a horrid buffer," began Joel impatiently. + +"Joel," said Mrs. Fisher, reprovingly. The fire in her black eyes was +not pleasant to look at, and after one glance, he turned back to the +blazing logs once more. + +"I can't help it," he muttered, picking up the tongs to poke the fire. + +"Don't ever let me hear that excuse from a son of mine," said Mother +Fisher scornfully. "Can't help it. I'd be master of myself, that's one +thing." + +Joel set the tongs back with an unsteady hand. They slipped and fell to +the hearth with a clang. + +"Mamsie, I didn't mean," he began, finding his feet. And before any one +could draw a long breath, he rushed out of the room. + +There was a dreadful pause. Polly clasped her hands tightly together, +and looked at her mother. Mrs. Fisher quietly put her sewing into the +big basket and got out of her chair. + +"Oh! what is the matter with Joey?" cried Phronsie, standing quite +still by the deserted hearth-rug. "Mamsie, do you suppose his head +aches?" + +"I think it must," said Mrs. Fisher gravely. Then she went out very +quietly and they could hear her going up the stairs. + +With a firm step she went into her own room, and turned up the gas. The +flash revealed Joel, face downward on the broad, comfortable sofa. Mrs. +Fisher went over and closed the door, then came to his side. + +"I thought, my boy," she said, "that I should find you here. Now then, +tell mother all about it," and lifting his head, she sat down and took +it into her lap. + +"O dear!" cried Joel, burrowing deep in the comfortable lap, "O dear--O +dear!" + +"Now, that is silly, Joey," said Mother Fisher, "tell me at once what +all this trouble is about," passing her firm hands over his hot +forehead, and trying to look in his face. But he struggled to turn it +away from her. + +"In the first place I just hate school!" he exploded. + + + + +XXII + +JOEL + + +"Hate school?" cried Mother Fisher. "Oh, Joey! think how Ben wanted +more schooling, only he wouldn't take the chance when Mr. King offered +it to him because he felt that he must be earning money as soon as +possible. Oh, Joey!" + +That "Oh, Joey!" cut deeply. Joel winced and burrowed deeper under his +mother's fingers. + +"That's just it," he cried. "Ben wanted it, and I don't. I hate it, and +I don't want to go back." + +"Don't want to go back?" repeated Mrs. Fisher in dismay. + +"No, I don't. The fellows are always twitting me, and every one gets +ahead of me, and I'm everlastingly staying in from ballgames to make up +lessons, and I'd like to fire the books, I would," cried Joel with +venom. + +Mrs. Fisher said nothing, but the hands still stroked the brown stubby +head in her lap. + +"And nobody cares for me because I won't be smart like the others, but +I can't help it, I just hate school!" finished Joel in the same strain. + +"Joel," said Mrs. Fisher slowly, "if that is the case, I shall go down +to Mr. King and tell him that we, Father Fisher and I, Polly and +Phronsie, will not go abroad with him." + +Joel bolted upright and, putting down his two hands, brought his black +eyes to bear on her. + +"What?" + +"I shall go directly downstairs and tell Mr. King that Father Fisher +and I, Polly and Phronsie, will not go abroad with him," repeated his +mother slowly and distinctly while she looked him fully in the face. + +"You can't do that," said Joel in amazement. "He's engaged the +state-rooms." + +"That makes no difference," said Mrs. Fisher, "when a woman has a boy +who needs her, nothing should stand in the way. And I must stay at home +and take care of you, Joel." + +Joel sprang to his feet and began to prance up and down the floor. "I'm +big enough to take care of myself, mother," he declared, coming up to +her, to prance off again. + +"So I thought," said Mrs. Fisher composedly, "or I shouldn't have +placed you at Mr. Marks's school." + +"The idea, Mamsie, of your staying at home to take care of me," said +Joel excitedly. "Why, feel of that." He bared his arm, and coming up, +thrust it out for inspection. "Isn't that splendid? I do verily believe +I could whip any fellow in school, I do," he cried, regarding his +muscles affectionately. "If you don't believe it, just pinch them hard. +You don't mean it really, Mamsie, what you said, of course. The idea of +staying at home to take care of me," and he began to prance again. + +"I don't care how many boys you can whip," observed Mother Fisher +coolly, "as long as you can't whip your own self when you're naughty, +you're too weak to go alone, and I must stay at home." + +Joel stopped suddenly and looked at her. + +"And before I'd give up, a boy of thirteen, and beg to be taken away +from school because the lessons were hard, and I didn't like to study, +I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd go through creditably." Mrs. +Fisher sat straight now as an arrow in her corner of the sofa. "I've +said my say, Joel," she finished after a pause, "and now I shall go +down and tell Mr. King." + +"Mother," howled Joel, dashing across the room to her, "don't go! I'll +stay, I will. Don't say that again, about my having to be taken care of +like a baby. I'll be good, mother, and study." + +"Study doesn't amount to much unless you are glad of the chance," said +Mrs. Fisher sharply. "I wouldn't give a fig for it, being driven to +it," and her lips curled scornfully. + +Joel wilted miserably. "I do care for the chance," he cried; "just try +me, and see." + +Mrs. Fisher took his sunburnt face between her two hands. "Do you +really wish to go back to school, and put your mind on your books? Be +honest, now." + +"Yes, I do," said Joel, without winking. + +"Well, you never told me a lie, and I know you won't begin now," said +Mother Fisher, slowly releasing him. "You may go back, Joe; I'll trust +you." + +"Phronsie," said Jasper, as the sound of the two voices could be heard +in Mother Fisher's room, "don't you want to come into my den? I've some +new bugs in the cabinet--found a regular beauty to-day." + +Phronsie stood quite still just where Joel had left her; her hands were +clasped and tears were rolling slowly down her cheeks. "No," she said, +without looking at him, "Jasper, I don't." + +"Do come, Phronsie," he begged, going over to her, and holding out his +hand. "You can't think how nice the new one is, with yellow stripes and +two long horns. Come and see it, Phronsie." + +"No, Jasper," said the child quietly. Then in the next breath, "I think +Joey must be very sick." + +"Oh! Mamsie is taking care of him, and he'll soon be all right," broke +in Polly cheerily. "Do go with Jasper, Phronsie, do, dear." She took +hold of the clasped hands, and smiled up into the drooping face. + +But Phronsie shook her head and said "No." + +"If Grandpapa should come in and find her so 'twould be very dreadful!" +exclaimed Polly, looking over at the five boys, who in this sudden +emergency were knocked speechless. "Do let us all play some game. Can't +some one think of one?" + +"Let us play 'Twenty Questions,'" proposed Jasper brightly. "I'll begin +it, I've thought of something." + +"That's horrid," cried Van, finding his tongue, "none of us want to +play that, I'm sure." + +"I do," said David. "I think 'Twenty Questions' is always nice. Is it +animal, vegetable or mineral, Jasper?" + +"I'm sick of it. Do play something not quite as old as the hills, I +beg." + +"Well, you think of something yourself, old man," said Jasper, nodding +furiously at him. "Hurry up." + +"I'd rather have Polly tell a story than any game you could possibly +think of," said Van, going over to her, where she sat on the rug at +Phronsie's feet. "Polly, will you?" he asked wheedlingly. + +"Don't ask her to-night," interposed Jasper. + +"Yes, I shall. It's the only time we shall have," said Van, "before we +go back to school. Do, Polly, will you?" he begged again. + +"I can't think of the first thing," declared Polly, pushing back little +rings of brown hair from her forehead. + +"Don't try to think; just spin it off," said Van. "Now begin." + +"You're a regular nuisance, Van!" exclaimed Jasper indignantly. "Polly, +I wouldn't indulge him." + +"I know Phronsie wants a story; don't you, Phronsie?" asked Van +artfully, and running over to peer into her face. + +But to his astonishment, Phronsie stood perfectly still. "No," she said +again, "I don't want a story; Joey must be sick." + +"Jasper," cried Polly in despair, and springing up, "something must be +done. Grandpapa's coming; I hear him." + +"Phronsie," said Jasper, bending to speak into her ear, "do you know +you are making Polly feel very unhappy? Just think; the next thing I +don't know but what she'll cry." + +Phronsie unfolded her hands. "Give me your handkerchief, Polly," she +said, winking back the rest of the tears. + +"Now, there's a dear," cried Polly, pulling out her handkerchief and +wiping the wet, little face. None too soon; the door opened and Mr. +King came in. + +"Well--well--well!" he exclaimed, looking over his spectacles at them +all. "Playing games, hey?" + +"We're going to," said Ben and Jasper together. + +"No, Polly is going to tell a story," said Van loudly, "that is, if you +want to hear it, Grandpapa. Do say you do," he begged, going over to +whisper in his ear. + +"I want immensely to hear it!" declared the old gentleman, pulling up +an easy-chair to the fireside. "There now," sitting down, "I'm fixed. +Now proceed, my dear." + +Van softly clapped his hands. "Phronsie," Mr. King beckoned to her, and +then suggestively touched his knee, "here, dear." + +Phronsie scurried across the room to his side. "Yes, Grandpapa." + +"There, up she goes!" sang Mr. King, swinging her into position on his +lap. "Now then, Polly, my child, we are all ready for the wonderful +tale. Stay, where is Joel?" + +"Joel went upstairs a little while ago," said Jasper quickly. "Well, +now, Polly, do begin." + +"I'll tell how we went to buy Phronsie's shoes," said Polly, drawing up +an ottoman to Mr. King's side. "Now, boys, bring your chairs up." + +"Joel ought to know that you are going to tell a story, Polly," said +Mr. King. "One of you boys run out and call him at the foot of the +stairs." + +"He's in Mamsie's room," said Ben. "I suppose when she gets through +with him, he'll come down." + +"Oh! ah!" said the old gentleman. "Well, Polly, then perhaps you would +better proceed." + +So Polly began on the never tiresome recital, how Phronsie fell down +the stairs leading from the kitchen to the "provision room" in the +little brown house, with the bread-knife in her hand; and how, because +she cut her thumb so that it bled dreadfully, mother decided that she +could at last have a pair of shoes bought especially for her very own +self; and how Deacon Brown's old horse and wagon were procured, and +they all set forth, except mother, and how they rode to town, and how +the Beebes were just as good as gold, and how the red-topped shoes +fitted as if they were made for Phronsie's feet, and how they all went +home, and how Phronsie danced around the kitchen till she was all tired +out, and then went to bed carrying the new shoes with her, and how she +fell asleep with-- + +"Why, I declare," exclaimed Polly, reaching this denouement in a +delightfully roundabout way, "if she isn't asleep now!" + +And indeed she was. So she had to be carried up to bed in the same old +way; only this time it was Jasper instead of Polly who held her. + +"Don't you believe we'd better put it off till some other night?" +whispered Percy to Van on the way upstairs to bed, the library party +having broken up early. "A fellow doesn't want to see a burglar on top +of the time Joel has had." + +"No, no," said Van; "it'll be good for him, and knock the other thing +out of his head, don't you see, Percy? I should want something else to +think of if I were Joel. You can't back out; you promised, you know." + +"Well, and I'll do it," said Percy testily. + +"It's no use trying to sleep," declared Joel, in the middle of the +night, and kicking the bed-clothes for the dozenth time into a roll at +the foot, "as long as I can see Mamsie's eyes. I'll just get up and +tackle that Latin grammar now. Whew! haven't I got to work, though! +Might as well begin at it," and he jumped out of bed. + +Stepping softly over to the door that led into David's little room, he +closed it carefully, and with a sigh, lighted the gas. Then he went +over to the table where his schoolbooks ought to have been. But +instead, the space was piled with a great variety of things--one or two +balls, a tennis racket, and a confusion of fishing tackle, while in +front, the last thing that had occupied him that day, lay a book of +artificial flies. + +Joel set his teeth together hard, and looked at them. "Suppose I shan't +get much of this sort of thing this summer," he muttered. "Here goes!" +and without trusting himself to take another look, he swept them all +off down to the floor and into a corner. + +"There," he said, standing up straight, "lie there, will you?" But they +loomed up in a suggestive heap, and his fingers trembled to just touch +them once. + +"I must cover up the things, or else I know I'll be at them," he said, +and hurrying over to the bed, he dragged off the cover-lid. "Now," and +he threw it over the fascinating mass, "I've GOT to study. Dear me, +where are my books?" + +For the next five minutes Joel had enough to do to collect his working +instruments, and when at last he unearthed them from the corner of his +closet where he had thrown them under a pile of boots, he was tired +enough to sit down. + +"I don't know which to go at first," he groaned, whirling the leaves of +the upper book. "It ought to be Latin--but then it ought to be algebra +just as much, and as for history--well there--here goes, I'll take them +as they come." + +With a very red face Joel plunged into the first one under his hand. It +proved to be the Latin grammar, and with a grimace, he found the page, +and resting his elbows on the table, he seized each side of his stubby +head with his hands. "I'll hang on to my hair," he said, and plunged +into his task. + +And now there was no sound in the room but his hard breathing, and the +noise he made turning the leaves, for he very soon found he was obliged +to go back many lessons to understand how to approach the one before +him; and with cheeks growing every instant more scarlet with shame and +confusion, the drops of perspiration ran down his forehead and fell on +his book. + +"Whew!" he exclaimed, "it's horribly hot," and pushing back his book, +he tiptoed over to the other window and softly raised it. The cool air +blew into his face, and leaning far out into the dark night, he drew in +deep breaths. + +"I've skinned through and saved my neck a thousand times," he +reflected, "and now I've got to dig like sixty to make up. There's Dave +now, sleeping in there like a cat; he doesn't have anything to do, but +to run ahead of the class like lightning--just because he"-- + +"Loves it," something seemed to sting the words into him. Joel drew in +his head and turned abruptly away from the window. + +"Pshaw! well, here goes," he exclaimed again, throwing himself into his +chair. "She said, 'I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd get through +creditably.'" Joel bared his brown arm and regarded it critically. "I +wonder how 'twould look all skin and bone," and he gave a short laugh. + +"But this isn't studying." He pulled down his sleeve, and his head went +over the book again. + +Outside, a bright blue eye applied to the keyhole, gave place to a +bright brown one, till such time as the persons to whom the eyes +belonged, were satisfied as to the condition of the interior they were +surveying. + +"What do you suppose he's doing?" whispered the taller figure, putting +his face concealed under a black mask, closely to the ear of the other +person, whose countenance was similarly adorned. + +"Don't know," whispered the second black mask. "He acts dreadfully +queer, but I suppose he's got a novel. So you see it's our duty to +break it up," he added virtuously. + +The taller figure shook his head, but as it was very dark on their side +of Joel's door, the movement was unobserved. + +"Well, come on," whispered the second black mask. "Are you ready?" + +Yes. + +"Come then." + +"O, dear, dear!" grunted Joel, "I'd rather chop wood as I used to, +years ago, to help the little brown house out," swinging his arms up +over his head. "Why"-- + +And he was left in darkness, his arms falling nervously to his side, +while a cautious step across the room made his black eyes stand out in +fright. + +"A burglar--a burglar!" flashed through his mind. He held his breath +hard and his knees knocked together. But Mamsie's eyes seemed to look +with scorn on him again. Joel straightened up, clenched his fist, and +every minute expecting to be knocked on the head, he crept like a cat +to the further corner, even in this extremity, grumbling inwardly +because Mr. King would not allow firearms. "If I only had them now!" he +thought. "Well, I must get my club." + +But there was no time to get it. Joel creeping along, feeling his way +cautiously, soon knew that there were two burglars instead of one in +the room, and his mind was made up. + +"They'll be after Grandpapa's money, sure," he thought. "I have got to +get out, and warn him." + +But how? that was the question. + +Getting down on all-fours, holding his breath, yet with never a thought +of danger to himself, he crept along toward the door leading into the +hall, then stopped and rested under cover of the heavy window drapery. +But as quick as a flash, two dark figures, that now, his eyes becoming +more accustomed to the darkness, he could dimly distinguish, reached +there before him, and the key clicking in the lock, Joel knew that all +hope from escape by that quarter was gone. + +Like a cat, he sprang to his feet, swung the drapery out suddenly +toward the figures, and in the next second hurled himself over the +window-sill, hanging to the edge, grasping the blind, crawling to the +next window, and so on and over, and down, down, by any friendly thing +he could grasp, to the ground. + +Two black masks hung over the deserted window-edge. + +"Joe--Joe! it's only we boys--Percy and Van. Joe--Joe!" + +"He'll be killed!" gasped Van, his face as white as Joel's robe +fluttering below them in his wild descent. "Stop him, Percy. Oh! do +stop him." + +Percy clung to the window-sill, and danced in distress. "Stop him!" he +was beyond uttering anything more. + +"Yes, oh, Joe! don't you see it's only Percy and Van?" cried Van +persuasively, and hanging out of the window to the imminent danger of +adding himself to Joel's company. + +Percy shoved him back. "He's 'most down," he said, finding his breath. +"Now we'll run downstairs and let him in." + +Van flew off from the window. "I'll go; it's my scrape," and he was +unlocking the door. + +"I'm the oldest," said Percy, hurrying to get there first. "I ought to +have known better." + +This made Van furious, and pushing Percy with all his might, he +wriggled out first as the door flew open, and not forgetting to tiptoe +down the hall, he hurried along, Percy behind him, to hear the noise of +men's feet coming over the stairs. + +Van tried to rush forward shouting, "Thomas, it's we boys--Percy and +Van." Instead, he only succeeded in the darkness, in stumbling over a +chair, and falling flat with it amid a frightful racket that drowned +his voice. + +Old Mr. King who had been awakened by the previous noise, and had rung +his burglar alarm that connected with Thomas's and Jencks's rooms in +the stable, now cried out from his doorway. "Make quick work, Thomas," +and Percy saw the gleam of a pistol held high in Thomas's hand. + +Up with a rush came bare feet over the back stairs; a flutter of +something white, and Joel sprang in between them. "It's Percy--it's +Percy!" he screamed, "don't you see, Thomas?" + +"I'm Percy--don't shoot!" the taller burglar kept saying without +intermission, while the flaring of candles and frightened voices, told +of the aroused household. + +"Make quick work, Jencks!" shouted Mr. King from his doorway, to add to +the general din. + +Thomas, whose blood was up, determined once for all to put an end to +the profession of burglary as far as his master's house was concerned, +now drew nearer, steadying his pistol and trying to sight the nearest +fellow. This proved to be Van, now struggling to his feet. + +Joel took one wild step forward. "Thomas--don't shoot! It's Van!" + +"Make quick work, Thomas!" called Mr. King. + +There was but a moment in which to decide. It was either Van or he; and +in an instant Joel had stepped in front of the pistol. + + + + +XXIII + +OF MANY THINGS + + +Van threw his arms around Joel. "Make quick work, Thomas," called Mr. +King from his doorway. The pistol fell from Thomas's hand. "I've shot +one of the boys. Och, murther!" he screamed. + +And everybody rushing up supposed it was Van, who was writhing and +screaming unintelligibly in the corner. + +"Oh! I've killed him," they finally made out. + +"Who--who? Oh, Van! who?" + +"Joey," screamed Van, bending over a white heap on the floor. "Oh! make +him get up. Oh! I've killed him." + +The mask was hanging by one end from his white face, and his eyes +protruded wildly. Up flew another figure adorned with a second black +mask. + +"No, no, it was I," and Percy rushed forward with an "Oh, Joel, Joel!" + +Somebody lighted the gas, that flashed suddenly over the terrified +group, and somebody else lifted the heap from the corner. And as they +did so, Joel stirred and opened his eyes. + +"Don't make such a fuss," he said crossly. One hand had gripped the +sleeve of his night-dress, trying to hold it up in a little wad on the +shoulder, the blood pouring down the arm. At sight of this, Van +collapsed and slid to the floor. + +"Don't frighten Mamsie," said Joel, his head drooping, despite his +efforts to hold it up. "I'm all right; nothing but a scratch. Ugh! let +me be, will you?" to Mr. Whitney and Jasper, who were trying to support +him. + +And Mother Fisher, for the first time since the children had known her, +lost her self-control. + +"Oh, Joey! and mother was cross to you," she could only sob as she +reached him. + +Polly, at a nod from the little doctor's night-cap and a few hurried +words, ran as in a dream for the case of instruments in his bedroom. + +"All right, Mamsie!" exclaimed Joel in surprise, and trying to stagger +to his feet. + +"Good heavens and earth!" cried old Mr. King, approaching. "What? oh! +it's monstrous--Joel!" + +"Och, murther!" Thomas sidled along the edge of the group, rolling +fearful eyes at them, and repeating over and over, "I've shot that +boy--that boy!" + +All this occupied but an instant, and Joel was laid on his bed, and the +wound which proved to be only a flesh one, the ball cutting a little +furrow as it grazed the shoulder, was dressed, and everybody drew a +long breath. "Tell Van that I'm all right," Joel kept saying all the +time. + +Polly undertook to do this. + +"Van--Van!" she cried, running out into the hall to lay a shaking hand +on his arm, where he lay on the floor. "Joel sent me to say that he is +all right." + +"Polly, I've killed him!" Van thrust his head up suddenly and looked at +her, with wild eyes. "I have--don't speak to me, or look at me. I've +killed Joel!" + +"Take off this dreadful thing," said Polly with a shiver, and kneeling +down, she seized the strings that tied the mask. "O dear! it's all in a +knot. Wait, I'll get the scissors," and she found her feet, and ran off +to her room. + +"Now you are all right;" he gave a little sob as the mask tumbled off. +"Oh! how could you?" she wanted to say, but Van's distress was too +dreadful for anything but comfort. + +"Don't you see," said Polly, sitting down on the floor and cuddling up +his head in her lap, "that Joel is really all right now? Suppose we +hadn't a Father Fisher who was a doctor, what should we do then?" and +she even managed a faint laugh. + +"O dear! but I've killed Joel." Van covered his face with the folds of +her flannel dress and wailed on. + +"Now, just see here, Van Whitney," said Polly, with the air of +authority, "I tell you that Joel is all right now. Don't you say that +again--not once more, Vanny." + +"But I have ki--I mean I saw Thomas shoot, and I couldn't stop him," +and Van writhed fearfully, ending with a scream "I've ki"--but Polly, +clapping her hand over his mouth, kept the words back. + +Meanwhile Percy had rushed out of the house. + +"Oh!" cried Polly, when this new alarm sprang up, and everybody was +running hither and thither to comfort him by the assurance that Joel +was not much hurt, "do, Uncle Mason and Jasper, let me go with you." + +"No, no, you stay here, Polly," cried Jasper, throwing wide the heavy +front door. "Brother Mason and I will find him. Don't worry, Polly." + +"I know I could help," said Polly, hanging over the stair-railing. "Oh! +do let me," she begged. + +"No, no, child," said Mr. Whitney, quickly. "Stay where you are, and +take care of the others. Now, then, Jasper, is Jencks ready with the +lantern?" + +"All right," said Jasper. "Come on." + +Polly, longing to fly to the window to watch, at least, the lantern's +twinkling light across the lawn, hurried off to comfort Aunt Whitney, +who at this new stage in the affairs, was walking her room, biting her +lips to keep from screaming the terror that clutched at her heart. + +"Oh, Polly!" she cried, "I'm so glad you've come. I should die if left +alone here much longer;" her soft hair floated down the white robe, and +the blue eyes were filled with tears. "Do tell me, don't you think they +will find Percy?" + +"Yes, indeed!" declared Polly, cuddling up to the little woman. "Oh, +Auntie! remember when Dicky's leg was broken." + +"But this is much worse," said Mrs. Whitney, sobbing, and holding close +to Polly's warm hand. + +"But we thought he was dead," and Polly gave a little shiver. + +"Don't--don't," begged Mrs. Whitney, clasping her hands; "Oh, Polly! +don't." + +"But he wasn't, you see, Auntie," Polly hurried on, "and so now you +know it will come out all right about Per--There! Oh! they've found +him!" as a shout from the lawn rang out. + +"Do you suppose it, Polly?" cried Mrs. Whitney, breathlessly. "Oh! do +run to the window and see!" + +So Polly ran to the window in the next room that overlooked that part +of the lawn where Mr. Whitney and Jasper were searching, and strained +her gaze up and down, and in every direction. + +"Have they? oh! have they?" cried Mrs. Whitney. "Oh, Polly! do tell me." + +"I don't see any of them," said Polly, listening eagerly for another +cry, "but I do believe they've found him." + +"Do come back," implored Mrs. Whitney; "there, now, don't go again, +Polly," as Polly hurried to her side, "but just hold my hand." + +"I will," said Polly, "just as tight as I can, Auntie." + +"Oh--oh! Percy is so much worse off than Joel," wailed Mrs. Whitney. +"Oh! to do such a thing, Polly!" she groaned. + +"They only meant it in fun," said Polly, swallowing hard the lump in +her throat, "don't let us talk about it, Auntie." + +"And Van," cried Mrs. Whitney, running on. "Oh! my poor, poor boys. +Will your mother ever forgive me, Polly?" + +"Oh, Auntie! don't talk so," said Polly tenderly; "and we both ought to +be out helping. There's Van, Auntie; just think how he feels." + +"I can't go near him," cried Mrs. Whitney in distress, "as long as he +is in Joel's room, for I can see your mother's eyes, Polly. It would +kill me to have her look at me." + +The door opened at this, and the trail of a long silken wrapper was +heard on the floor. + +"Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. Whitney, raising her head and looking at +the new-comer with as much anger as her gentle face could contain, "I +really cannot see you in my room to-night. Excuse me, but I am unstrung +by all that has occurred. Will you please not come in"-- + +"I thought I might sit with you," said Mrs. Chatterton. In the brief +interval since the arousing of the household, she had contrived to make +a perfect breakfast toilet, and she folded her hands over her handsome +gown. "Polly might then be with her mother. But if you don't wish me to +remain, I will go." + +"I do not need you," said Mrs. Whitney, decidedly, and she turned to +Polly again. + +Mrs. Chatterton moved away, and closed the door after her. + +"Auntie," said Polly, "she really wants to help you." + +"Polly, you needn't say anything about it," exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, +like many other gentle creatures, when roused, becoming unreasonably +prejudiced; "I cannot bear the sight of that woman. She has been here +so long, and is so intensely disagreeable to us all." + +Polly's eyes became very round, and she held her breath in astonishment. + +"Don't look so, child," said Mrs. Whitney at length, "you don't +understand, my dear. But you would if you were in my place"-- + +"She's sorry for it," said Polly, finding her tongue at last. + +"And father is nearly worn out with her," continued Mrs. Whitney. "And +now to come parading her attentions upon me, it"-- + +"Who--who?" Dicky, now that the excitement in Joel's room had died +down, had lost his relish for it, and he now pranced into Mrs. +Whitney's room. "Who, mamma?" + +"Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. Whitney unguardedly. "She has disagreeably +intruded herself upon me." + +"Has she been in here?" asked Dick in astonishment. + +"Yes; asking if she can sit with me," and Polly started at the look in +the usually soft blue eyes. + +"And you wouldn't let her?" asked Dick, stopping short and regarding +his mother curiously. + +"Of course not, Dicky," she made haste to say. + +"Then I think you did very wrong," declared Dick flatly. + +"Oh, Dick!" exclaimed Polly in consternation. + +"And you don't act like my mother at all," said Dick, standing quite +stiffly on his sturdy legs, and gazing at her with disapprobation. +"Didn't Mrs. Chatterton save my life," he exploded, "when the real +burglar was going for me? Say, didn't she?" he cried. + +"I have yet to find out that is the truth," said Mrs. Whitney, finding +her voice. "Oh, Dicky," she added, hurt that he should defend another, +worst of all, Mrs. Chatterton, "don't talk about her." + +"But I ought to talk about her," persisted Dick. "She saved me as much +as she could. Because she won't let anybody thank her, I like her more +myself. I'm going to stay with her." + +With that, he held his head high, and marched to the door. + +"Dick, Dick!" called his mother, "come back, dear." + +Dick slowly turned and made his way to her side, but he still regarded +her with disapproval. + +"Dick, I want you to go to Mrs. Chatterton's room, and say that I am +sorry I refused her offer to help, and that I would like to have her +sit with me. Remember, say I am sorry I refused her offer to help, +Dicky." She leaned forward and kissed her boy, her long, soft hair +falling like a veil around the two faces. + +Dick threw his arms around her neck. + +"Now, you're a brick!" he declared impulsively. "I'll bring the old +lady, and we'll both sit with you." + +So Polly was free to run back to Mamsie. On the way there she opened +the door of Phronsie's little room, just out of Father and Mother +Fisher's. + +"How good it is that she sleeps through it all," said Polly, listening +to the regular breathing. Then she stole across the room and stood +beside the small bed. + +"She looks just as she did the night she took her new shoes to bed," +thought Polly; "one hand is over her head, exactly as it was then. Oh, +Phronsie! to think that you're to have no party to-morrow," and she +turned off with a sigh, went out, and closed the door. + +"Percy's here--all right!" cried Jasper, running over the stairs to +meet her at the top. + +His eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his face was torn and +bleeding. + +"Are you hurt?" cried Polly, feeling as if the whole family were bound +to destruction. "Oh, Jasper! did you fall?" + +"Nothing but a scratch. I was fool enough to forget the ledge, and +walked off for my pains"-- + +"Oh, Jasper!" cried Polly, with paling cheeks, "let me bathe it for +you, do;" her strength began to return at the thought of action, and +she sprang for a basin of water. + +"Nonsense. No, Polly!" cried Jasper, with a quick hand detaining her, +"it's nothing but a mere scratch, I tell you, but I suppose it looks +terribly. I'll go and wash it off. Run and tell his mother that Percy +is found." + +"Is he all right?" asked Polly fearfully, holding her breath for the +answer. + +"Sound as a nut," declared Jasper; "we found him streaking it down the +locust path; he said he was going to run off to sea." + +"Run off to sea!" repeated Polly. "Oh, Jasper!" + +"Well, he was so frightened, of course he didn't know what to say," +replied Jasper. "And ashamed, too. He didn't care to show his head at +home. I don't know as I blame him, Polly. Well, it's too bad about +Phronsie's party, isn't it?" added Jasper, mopping up his face as the +two went down the hall. + +"Yes," said Polly with a sigh, stopping at Mrs. Whitney's door, "but, +oh! think how happy we are now that Percy is safe, Jasper." + +"Still, it's too bad for Phronsie," repeated Jasper, looking back. + +But Joel flatly declared that the first one that even so much as hinted +that a single item of the arrangements for Phronsie's getting-well +party should be changed, he'd make it disagreeable as only he knew how, +for that one when he got up from his bed. "Yes, sir!" and he scolded, +and fretted, and fussed, and laid down the law so generally to all, not +excepting the doctor, that at last it was decided to let the party go +on. Then he lay back against the pillows quite exhausted, but with a +beatific face. + +"I should think you would be tired, Joe," exclaimed Jasper, "you've +bullied us so. Dear me! people ought to be angelic when they're sick, +at least." + +"If you'd had him to take care of as I did," observed Dr. Fisher, +"you'd know better; goodness me! the little brown house scarcely held +him when he was getting over the measles." + +"What's the use of being sick," said Joel reflectively, turning on his +pillow, "if you can't make people stand around, I'd like to know. Now +that point's settled about Phronsie's party, won't you all go out? I'd +like to speak to Father Fisher a moment." + +"You don't mean me, Joey?" said Mother Fisher at the head of the bed, +holding her boy's hand. + +"Yes; you, too, Mamsie," said Joel, giving her an affectionate glance, +"it's something that only the doctor and I are to know." + +"You're not hurt anywhere else, are you, Joey?" asked his mother, a +sudden alarm leaping to her black eyes. + +"Not a scratch," said Joel promptly. "I want to see Father Fisher about +something. Sometime you shall know, Mamsie." He gave her hand a sudden +pressure, then let it go. + +"Perhaps you would better step out, my dear," said the little doctor, +nodding to his wife. So Mrs. Fisher, smothering a sigh, went out +reluctantly. + +"All out?" asked Joel, trying to raise his head to see for himself. + +"Every soul," said Dr. Fisher. + +"Well, see here, will you," said Joel, pointing to the table, the +schoolbooks scattered as he had left them, "pack those things all away +in the closet on the shelf, you know, and put the rubbish on the floor +there, back on the table?" + +Dr. Fisher could not for his life, refrain from asking curiously, as he +did as requested, "Been having a pull at the books, eh, Joe?" + +"Um--um--maybe," said Joel, twisting uneasily. "Well, now, come here, +please, Father Fisher." + +The little man turned away from the table, with its sprawling array of +delightful things, to stand by the bedside. + +"You must get me well as soon as you can," said Joel confidentially. + +"All right; I understand," Dr. Fisher nodded professionally. + +"And whatever you say, don't let it be that I must be careful of my +eyes," said Joel. + +"All right; that is, if you get up quickly," agreed the doctor. + +"That's all," said Joel in great satisfaction. "Now, call Mamsie in and +the others." + +And in the morning, no one told Phronsie what had happened the night +before. She only knew that Joel was not very well, and was going to +keep his room; all her pleadings to do something for him being set one +side by Grandpapa's demands upon her instant attention whenever the +idea suggested itself to her. And so the time wore along till the party +began. + +Alexia was the first to arrive, her bowl of orange jelly in her hand, +and after her, a tall slight figure jumped from the carriage, her +flaxen hair streaming out in two pale braids. + +"I thought I'd pick Cathie up," said Alexia carelessly; "had to pass +her door, you know. O dear me, what perfectly dreadful times you had +last night, Polly Pepper." + +"I didn't bring macaroons," said Cathie, "as I really think that they +wouldn't be good for Phronsie. Besides, I've forgotten how to make +them, and our cook was cross and said I shouldn't come into her +kitchen. But I bought a doll for Phronsie; my mother said it would be a +great deal more sensible present," and she hugged the long box under +her arm with great satisfaction. + +"O dear! dear!" groaned Alexia, falling back with Polly as the three +raced along the hall, "she showed it to me in the carriage, and it's a +perfect guy, besides counting one more." + +But afflictions like this were small to Polly now, and although for the +next hour it rained dolls into Phronsie's puzzled hands, Polly helped +her to thank the givers and to dispose them safely on neighboring +chairs and tables and sofas. + +Mrs. Chatterton's was the pattern of old Mr. King's phonograph doll, at +which discovery he turned upon her with venom in his eye. + +"My gift to my little granddaughter," taking especial care to emphasize +the relationship, "has always been a doll, I suppose you knew that, +Cousin Eunice; and to try to procure one exactly like the one I have +purchased, is very presuming in you, to say the least." + +"And why may I not present a doll to Phronsie Pepper, if I care to, +pray tell?" demanded Mrs. Chatterton in a high, cold tone. + +"Why? because you have always showed a marked dislike for the child," +cried old Mr. King angrily, "that's why, Cousin Eunice." + +"Grandpapa--Grandpapa," said Phronsie, laying her hand on his arm. + +"And to parade any special affection, such as the presentation of a +gift indicates, is a piece of presumption on your part, I say it again, +Cousin Eunice." + +"Grandpapa!" said Phronsie again at his elbow. + +"Now, Phronsie," turning to her, "you are to take that doll," pointing +to a gorgeous affair reposing on the sofa, with Mrs. Algernon +Chatterton's card attached to it, "and go over to Mrs. Chatterton, and +say, very distinctly, 'I cannot accept this gift;' mind you say it +distinctly, Phronsie, that there may be no mistake in the future." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" cried Phronsie in dismay. + +"Yes, child; I know what is best for you. Take that doll, and do +exactly as I bid you." + +A dreadful pause fell upon the room. Polly clasped her hands, while +Alexia and the other girls huddled into a corner saying softly, "Oh! +how perfectly dreadful!" + +"No use to say anything to father when he looks like that," groaned +Jasper, when Polly besought him to try his influence, "his blood is up +now; he's borne a good deal, you know, Polly." + +"O dear, dear!" whispered Polly, back again, "just look at Mrs. +Chatterton's face, and at poor Phronsie's; can't you do something, +Jasper?" + +"I'm afraid not," said Jasper gloomily. "No; he's making her give it +back; see, Polly." + +"You'll know it's for the best," Mr. King was repeating as he led the +child to Mrs. Chatterton standing cold and silent at the end of the +room, "sometime, child, and then you'll thank me that I saved you from +further annoyance of this sort. There, Cousin Eunice, is your gift," +taking the doll from Phronsie's hand, and placing it in the long, +jeweled one. "My little granddaughter receives presents only from those +who love her. All others are unwarranted, and must be returned." + +Phronsie burst out tearfully, "She's sorry, Grandpapa, I know she is, +and she loves me now. Please let me keep the doll." + +But Mrs. Chatterton had left the room, the doll in her hand. + + + + +XXIV + +AWAY + + +And after that everybody had to be as gay as possible, to keep +Phronsie's sad little face from being flooded with tears. + +"Dear me!" exclaimed Jasper, "here comes Candace! Now what do you +suppose she has for you, Phronsie?" + +Candace sailed through the doorway with ample satisfaction with +everything and herself in particular. + +"Whar's little Miss?" she demanded, her turban nodding in all +directions, and her black eyes rolling from side to side. + +"There, Candace," said some one, "over in the corner with Jasper." + +"Oh! I see her," said Candace, waddling over to them. "Well, now, +Phronsie, seein' you couldn't come to me for somethin' I made 'xpressly +fer you, w'y, Candace has to come to you. See dat now, chile!" + +She unrolled the parcel, disclosing the wonderful doll adorned with +Candace's own hair, and "Ole Missus' ruffles," then stood erect, her +bosom swelling with pride and delight. + +"O my goodness me!" exclaimed Alexia, tumbling back after the first and +only glance, and nearly overturning Cathie who was looking over her +shoulder. "Polly Pepper, O dear me!" Then she sat down on the floor and +laughed till she cried. + +"Hush--hush!" cried Polly, running over to her, "do stop, Alexia, and +get up. She'll hear you, and we wouldn't hurt her feelings for the +world. Do stop, Alexia." + +"O dear me!" cried Alexia gustily, and holding her sides while she +waved back and forth; "if it had been--a--respectable doll, but +that--horror! O dear me!" + +"Stop--stop!" commanded Polly, shaking her arm. + +But Alexia was beyond stopping herself. And in between Candace's +delighted recital how she combed "de ha'r to take de curl out," and how +"ole Missus' ruffles was made into de clothes," came the peals of +laughter that finally made every one in the room stop and look at the +girls. + +"Candace, come into my 'den' and get a pattern for some new pins I want +you to make for me," cried Jasper, desperately dragging her off. + +"It's no use to lecture me," said Alexia, sitting straight as Candace's +feet shuffled down the hall, and wiping her face exhaustedly. "I know +it was dreadful--O dear me! Don't anybody speak to me, or I shall +disgrace myself again!" + +"Now, Phronsie, what do you suppose we are to do next?" + +Phronsie looked up into old Mr. King's face. + +"I don't know, Grandpapa," she said wonderingly. + +"Well, now, my dear, you've had Punch and Judy, and these nice +children," waving his hand to indicate the delegation from the orphan +asylum, "have sung beautifully for you. Now what comes next, Phronsie?" + +"I don't know, Grandpapa," repeated Phronsie. + +"When gifts become burdensome they no longer are kindnesses," said Mr. +King. "Now, Phronsie, I have found out--never mind how; little birds, +you now, sometimes fly around telling people things they ought to know. +Well, I have discovered in some way that my little girl has too many +children to care for." + +Here Phronsie's brown eyes became very wide. + +"And when there are too many children in the nest, Phronsie, why, they +have to go out into the world to try their fortunes and make other +homes. Now there are so many poor little girls who haven't any +children, Phronsie. Think of that, dear; and you have so many." + +Phronsie at this drew nearer and stole her hand into his. + +"Now what is to be done about it?" asked the old gentleman, putting his +other broad palm over her little one and holding it fast. "Hey, my pet?" + +"Can't we buy them some children?" asked Phronsie with warm interest. +"Oh, Grandpapa dear, do let us; I have money in my bank." + +"Phronsie," said the old gentleman, going to the heart of the matter at +once and lifting her to his lap, "I really think the time has come to +give away some of your dolls. I really do, child." + +Phronsie gave a start of incredulity and peered around at him. + +"I really do. You are going abroad to be gone--well, we'll say a year. +And your dolls would be so lonely without anything to do but to sit all +day and think of their little mother. And there are so many children +who would love them and make them happy." Now Mr. King's white hair was +very near the yellow waves floating over his shoulder, so that none but +Phronsie's ears caught the next words. "It's right, Phronsie dear; I'd +do it if I were you," he said in a low voice. + +"Do you want it, Grandpapa?" asked Phronsie softly. + +"I do, child; but not unless you are willing"-- + +"Then I do," declared Phronsie, sitting quite straight on his knee. And +she gave a relieved sigh. "Oh, Grandpapa, if we only had the poor +children now!" she exclaimed, dreadfully excited. + +"Come, then." Old Mr. King set her on her feet. "Clear the way there, +good people; we are going to find some poor children who are waiting +for dolls," and he threw wide the door into a back passage, and there, +presided over by Jencks, and crowding for the first entrance, was a +score of children with outstretched hands. + +"Oh--oh!" exclaimed Phronsie with cheeks aflame. + +"Please, he said we was to have dolls," cried one hungry-eyed girl, +holding out both her hands. "I've never had one. Please give me one +quick." + +"Never had one?" echoed Phronsie, taking a step toward her. + +"Only a piece, Miss, I found in a rag-barrel. Please give me one quick." + +"She's never had a doll--only a piece," repeated Phronsie, turning back +to the family, unable to contain this information. + +"Ask the others if they have had any," said Mr. King, leaning against a +tall cabinet. "Try that girl there in a brown plaid dress." + +"Have you ever had a doll?" asked Phronsie obediently, looking over at +the girl indicated, and holding her breath for the answer. + +At this, the girl in the brown plaid dress burst into tears, which so +distressed Phronsie that she nearly cried. + +"Yes, but it died," said the girl after a little. + +"Oh, Grandpapa, her doll died!" exclaimed Phronsie in horror. + +"No, it didn't, Jane," corrected another girl, "the dog et it; you know +he did." + +"Yes, I know," said Jane, between small sobs, "it died, and we couldn't +have any fun'ral, 'cause the dog had et it." + +"Well, now, Phronsie," exclaimed Mr. King, getting away from the +support of the cabinet, "I think it's time that we should make some of +these children happy. Don't you want to take them up to the playroom +and distribute the dolls?" + +"No, no," protested Phronsie suddenly. "I must go up and tell my +children. They will understand it better then, Grandpapa. I'll be back +in a very few minutes," and going out she went quickly upstairs, and +after a while returned with both arms full. + +"This doll is for you," she said gravely, putting a doll attired in a +wonderful pink satin costume into Jane's arms. "I've told her about +your dog, and she's a little frightened, so please be careful." + +"What's the fun down there now?" asked Joel of Van, who with Percy +could not be persuaded to leave his bedside a moment, "open the door, +do, and let's hear it." + +So Van threw wide the door. + +"Go out and listen, Percy, will you?" he said. + +"I don't want to," said Percy, who shared Van's wish to keep in the +background. + +"You two fellows act like muffs," said Joel. "Now if you want me to get +well, go out, do, and tell me what the fun is going on down there." + +So persuaded, the two boys stole out into the hall in time to see +Phronsie go down the stairs with her armful, and carefully using their +ears they soon rushed back with "Phronsie's giving away her dolls!" + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Joel, "if you can't bring back anything +better than that yarn, you might as well stay here." + +"But I tell you it's true," declared Van, "isn't it, Percy?" + +"Yes, it is," said Percy. "I heard her distinctly say, 'This doll is +for you'--and she had her arms full, so I suppose she's going to give +those away too"-- + +"A likely story," said Joel, bursting into a laugh. At the noise up in +the boys' room, Mother Fisher ran quickly over the stairs. + +"Oh, boys! what is it? Joel, are you worse?" + +"No, indeed," said Joel, "I was laughing. Percy and Van have been +telling such a big story. Mamsie, they actually said that Phronsie was +giving away her dolls." + +"Is that all?" cried Mrs. Fisher in relief. "Well, so she is, Joel." + +"PHRONSIE GIVING AWAY HER DOLLS, MAMSIE?" screamed Joel. "Why, what +does Grandpapa say?" + +"He's the very one that proposed it," said Mrs. Fisher. "There, Joey, +don't get excited, for I don't know what the doctor will say," as Joel +sank back on his pillow, overcome by this last piece of news. + +When Phronsie went to bed that night she clasped Mr. King's new gift to +her breast. + +"Grandpapa, dear," she said confidingly as they went up the stairs +together, "do you know I really think more of this doll, now that the +others are gone? Really I do, Grandpapa, and I can take better care of +her, because I shall have more time." + +"So you will, dear," assented Mr. King. "Well, Phronsie, I think you +and I, dear, haven't made a bad day's work." + +"I think my children will be happy," said Phronsie with a small sigh, +"because you see it's so nice to make good times for their new mothers. +And, Grandpapa, I couldn't play with each one more than once a week. I +used to try to, but I couldn't, Grandpapa." + +"Why didn't you tell me, Phronsie," asked the old gentleman a bit +reproachfully as they reached the top step, "how it was, dear? You +should have given them away long ago." + +"Ah, but," said Phronsie, slowly shaking her head, "I didn't want to +give them away before; only just now, Grandpapa, and I think they will +be happy. And now I'm going to take this newest one to bed, just as I +used to take things to bed years ago, when I was a little girl." + +And after all, there was an extension of time for the three boys' +vacation, Dr. Marks not getting up from his sudden attack of fever as +quickly as was expected. But there came a day at last, when Percy, Van +and David bade Joel "good-by." + +"It won't be for long," observed that individual cheerfully, "you'll be +back in three weeks." + +"O dear!" groaned Percy when safe within the coach, "we've ruined all +his chances. He certainly will be plucked now--with those three weeks +to make up." + +Van gathered himself up and leaned forward in his corner. + +"Don't look so, Dave," he cried desperately. + +David tried to smooth the troubled lines out of his face, but only +succeeded in making it look worse than before. + +"And it will kill Mrs. Fisher," Percy continued gloomily, "if he does +get plucked, as of course he will." + +"Keep still, will you?" cried Van, his irritation getting beyond +bounds. "What's the use of talking about a thing till it's done," which +had the effect to make Percy remember his promise to Polly and close +his mouth. + +But Joel's wound healed quicker than any one supposed it possibly +could, and Percy and Van, who both hated to write letters, gave up much +time on the playground to indite daily bulletins, so that he declared +that it was almost as good as being there on the spot. And Mother +Fisher and her army of servants cleaned the great stone house from top +to bottom, and sorted, and packed away, and made things tidy for the +new housekeeper who was to care for them in her absence, till Dr. +Fisher raised his eyebrows and hands in astonishment. + +"I really must," he said one day, "put in a remonstrance, wife, or +you'll kill yourself before we start." + +"Oh! I'm used to working," Mrs. Fisher would say cheerily, and then off +she would fly to something so much worse that the little doctor was +speechless. + +And Polly set herself at all her studies, especially French, with +redoubled vigor, notwithstanding that she was hampered with the +faithful attentions of the schoolgirls who fought among themselves for +her company, and showered her with pathetic +"O--dear--me--ow--I--shall--miss--you," and with tears when they got +over it. And Jasper buried himself in his den, only bursting forth at +meal times, and Mrs. Whitney bemoaned all preparations for the +travelers' departure, and wished a thousand times that she had not +given her promise to keep the house and look after the boys. And +everybody who had the slightest claim to a calling acquaintance, now +dropped in upon the Kings, and Polly had her "good-by party," and it +was pronounced perfectly elegant by Alexia and her set, and the three +boys came home for the long vacation--and in two days the party would +sail. + +"Who do you think is going abroad with us?" asked Mr. King suddenly, as +they all sat in the library for a last evening talk; "guess quickly." + +"Who?" cried several voices. + +"Why, I thought you didn't want any outsiders, father," exclaimed +Jasper in surprise. + +"Well, and I didn't when I said so, but circumstances are changed +now--come, guess quickly, some one?" + +"The Cabots," said Jasper at a venture. + +"No, no; guess again." + +"Mr. Alstyne?" + +"No; again." + +"The Bayleys, the Dyces, the Herrings," shouted Mr. Whitney and Van and +Joel. + +"No, I know," broke in Percy, "it's Mrs. Chatterton," with a quick +glance to make sure that she was not in the room. + +"NO!" thundered Mr. King. "Oh! how stupid people can be when they want +to. Two persons are to meet us in New York to-morrow. I didn't tell you +till I was sure; I had no desire that you should be disappointed. Now +guess again." + +"Auntie, do you know?" asked Polly suddenly, leaning back, as she sat +on the rug in front of the fire, to lay her head in Mrs. Whitney's lap. + +"No, I'm sure I don't," said Mrs. Whitney, stroking lightly the brown +hair, with a pang to think how long it would be before she should +caress it again. + +"How any one can desire to cross the ocean," remarked Mr. Whitney, +folding his hands back of his head and regarding meditatively the +glowing fire, "is more than I can see. That I never shall do it again +unless whipped over, I'm morally certain." + +"Are the persons men?" asked Ben suddenly. + +"One is," replied Mr. King. + +"And the other is a woman?" + +"The other is a woman," said Mr. King. "Well, what are their names? +Isn't anybody smart enough to guess them? Dear me, I've always said +that the Peppers were remarkably bright, and the rest of you children +are not behind other young people. Go on, try again. Now who are they?" + +Polly took her head out of Mrs. Whitney's lap, and rested her chin in +her hands, Davie walked up and down the room, while Ben and the two +Whitney boys hung over Mother Fisher's chair. + +"Dear me!" fumed Joel. "Who ever could guess. There's such a lot or +people in the world that Grandpapa knows. It might be any two of them +that he had asked." + +Little Dr. Fisher's eyes roved from one to the other of the group. "I +couldn't begin to guess because I don't know many of your friends," he +said quietly. + +"You know these two people very well," said Mr. King, laughing, to see +the little man's face. + +"Now I think I know," said Jasper slowly, a light coming into his gray +eyes, "but I don't suppose it's fair to guess, for I saw the address on +a letter father was writing two or three weeks ago." + +"You did, you young scamp, you!" cried Mr. King, turning on him. "Well, +then, 'tisn't a guess for you, Jasper. Keep still, my boy, and let them +work away at it. Will no one guess?" + +"Mamsie," cried Polly, bounding up from the ring, nearly upsetting +Phronsie, who was sitting beside her in a brown study, "can it be--do +you suppose it is nice, dear Mr. and Mrs. Henderson?" + +"Well, Polly," said Mr. King, beaming at her, "you've done what the +others couldn't. Yes, it is Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, and they are going +with us to stay until the autumn." + +"Good, good!" cried every one till the big room seemed full of joy. + +"Oh, father!" exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, "I'm so glad you've done this. +They were so kind to Dicky and to me when he was hurt." + +"They were kind to Dicky and to you," said her father; "and besides, +Marian, Mr. Henderson is a man who doesn't preach at you only once a +week, and Mrs. Henderson is a fine woman. So it's a pity not to ease up +things for them now and then. Well, how do you like the plan?" He spoke +to Dr. Fisher, but his gaze took them all in. + +"Immensely," said the little doctor; which being again echoed heartily +by all the rest, old Mr. King began to feel very much elated at his +part in the proceedings, and in a quarter of an hour it seemed as if +the expedition had been especially planned for the benefit of the +Hendersons, so naturally had it all come about. + +And on the morrow, the whole family, Kings, Whitneys, Fishers and +Peppers, turned their backs on the gray stone mansion and went down to +the city. + +And Alexia Rhys persuaded her aunt to do her semi-annual shopping at +this time, and to take her too; and Mr. Alstyne also had business that +necessitated his going, and Mr. Cabot and Mary Taylor, and her father +found they must go along too; and Hamilton Dyce was there, and +Pickering Dodge, of course, went to be company for Ben on the way back. +And at the last moment who should jump on the train but Livingston +Bayley. + +"Had a telegram," he explained; "must be there at noon. So glad of the +unexpected pleasure of meeting you all." + +And Cousin Eunice Chatterton went; for, at the last minute, she had +suddenly discovered that she had visited at the gray stone mansion as +long as she cared to, and notified the family accordingly. And Mr. King +had so far made up for his part in the late unpleasantness as to ask +her to go with the party, on her way to her nephew's in the city. So +there she was with the others, bidding them good-by on the steamer. + +"Phronsie," she said slowly, under cover of the babel of tongues, "you +are a good child, and I've done well by you. This little bit of paper," +putting it into her hands, "contains a message to Mr. King, which you +are to give him after you have started." + +"I will go and give it to him now," said Phronsie, her fingers closing +over the bit. + +"No, no," said Mrs. Chatterton sharply, "do as I say. Remember, on no +account to let any one see it till after you have started. You are a +good child, Phronsie. Now, remember to do as you are bidden. And now, +will you kiss me, child?" + +Phronsie lifted her eyes and fixed them on the long, white face, and +suddenly raising herself on her tiptoes, she put up her lips. + +"Look at Phron," cried Joel in the midst of the group, "actually +kissing Mrs. Chatterton!" and everybody turned and stared. + +Cousin Eunice dropped her veil with a quick hand, and moved off with a +stately step, but not in time to lose young Bayley's drawl: + +"'Pon me word--it's the most extraordinary thing. Phronsie, come here, +and tell us what 'twas like." But Phronsie stood quite still as if she +had not heard. + +"Yes, I hope you'll have a nice time," Pickering Dodge was saying for +the dozenth time, with eyes for no one but Polly, "now don't stay away +for a year." + +Polly with her heart full of the boys, who were hanging on either side, +answered at random. + +"Oh, Ben! I can't go," she was exclaiming, and she hid her head on his +shoulder, so Pickering turned off. + +But Joel set his teeth together. "You must," he said, for Ben was +beyond speech with the effort to control himself. + +"I can't," said poor Polly, "leave you, Ben, and the boys." + +And then Mrs. Whitney came up just as Polly was near breaking down. + +"My dear child," she said, taking Polly's hands, "you know it is right +for you to go." + +"Yes, I know," said Polly, fighting her tears. + +"Then, Polly, be brave, dear, and don't begrudge me my three new boys," +she added playfully. "Just think how happy I'm to be, with six such +splendid fellows to call my own." + +Polly smiled through her tears. + +"And one thing more," said Mrs. Whitney in a low voice, "when you feel +badly," looking steadily at Polly and the three boys, "remember what +Dr. Fisher said; that if your mother didn't stop working, and rest, she +would break down." + +"I'll remember," said Ben hoarsely. + +"So will I," said David. + +"And I will," said Joel, looking everywhere but into Polly's eyes. + +"Well, I hope, Miss Polly," said young Mr. Bayley, sauntering up, "that +you'll have an uncommonly nice time, I do indeed. I may run across in +September; if I do, we shall probably meet." + +"Miss Mary Pepper?" suddenly asked a man with a huge basket of flowers, +and pausing in front of her. + +Young Mr. Bayley smiled indulgently as he could not help reading the +card thrust into the flowers. "She will receive my flowers at intervals +all the way over, if the steward doesn't fail me," he reflected with +satisfaction, "while this boy's will fade in an hour." + +"Miss Mary Pepper?" the florist's messenger repeated, extending the +basket to Polly. + +"It's for you, Miss Polly," said young Mr. Bayley. "Let me relieve +you," taking the basket. + +"Oh! are they for me?" cried Polly. + +"I believe you are Miss Mary Pepper," said young Bayley. "Pretty, +aren't they?" fingering the roses, and glad to think that there were +orchids among the flowers to which his card was attached, and just +placed under the steward's care. + +"I suppose I am," said Polly, with a little laugh, "but it seems as if +I couldn't be anything but Polly Pepper. Oh! thank you, Pickering, for +these lovely roses," catching sight of him. + +"Glad you like them," said Pickering radiantly. "Say, Polly, don't stay +away a whole year, will you?" + +Young Mr. Bayley set the basket in his hand and turned on his heel with +a smile. + +"Come, Polly, I want you," cried Alexia, trying to draw her off. "You +know she's my very best friend, Pickering, and I haven't had a chance +to say one word to her this morning. Come, Polly." + +"Polly, come here," called Mrs. Fisher. + +"O dear!" cried Alexia impatiently, "now that's just the way it always +is. It's Polly here, and Polly there," as Polly deserted her and ran +off with her basket of roses. + +"You don't do any of the calling, of course," said Pickering, with a +laugh. + +"Well, I'll have her to myself," declared Alexia savagely, "before it's +time for us to get off the steamer, see if I don't." + +"I don't believe it," said Pickering. "Look at her now in a maelstrom +of relatives. You and I, Alexia, are left out." + +And the next thing Alexia knew somebody unceremoniously helped her from +the steamer with a "Beg pardon, Miss, but you must get off," and she +was standing on the wharf in a crowd of people, looking in a dazed way +at Polly Pepper's fluttering handkerchief, while fast-increasing little +ripples of greenish water lay between them. + +And Phronsie was running up to Mr. King: + +"Here, Grandpapa, Mrs. Chatterton wanted me to give you this," +unclasping her warm little palm where the bit of white paper lay. "The +Dickens she did," exclaimed the old gentleman; "so she has had a last +word with you, has she? Well, she won't get another for a long spell; +so never mind. Now, let's see what Cousin Eunice says. Something +interesting, no doubt." He spread the crumpled bit straight and read, +Phronsie standing quite still by his side: + +COUSIN HORATIO: I have made Phronsie Pepper my sole heir. You may like +it or not, as you please. The thing is done, and may God bless Phronsie. + EUNICE CHATTERTON. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Five Little Peppers Midway, by Margaret Sidney + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS MIDWAY *** + +***** This file should be named 5632.txt or 5632.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/3/5632/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Five Little Peppers Midway + +Author: Margaret Sidney + +Release Date: May, 2004 [EBook #5632] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on July 26, 2002] +[Most recently updated on April 17, 2007] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS MIDWAY *** + + + + +Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS MIDWAY + +By MARGARET SIDNEY + + + + + To + MY LITTLE MARGARET + Who Is Phronsie Pepper to All + Who Know Her +This Book Is Lovingly Inscribed + + + + +CONTENTS + + 1 Phronsie's Pie + 2 Cousin Eunice Chatterton + 3 The Rehearsal + 4 Welcome Home! + 5 After the Play + 6 The Little Brown House + 7 Old Times Again + 8 Some Badgertown Calls + 9 A Sudden Blow +10 The Party Separates +11 Poor Polly! +12 New Work for Polly +13 A Piece of News +14 Mamsie's Wedding +15 Mrs. Chatterton Has a New Plan +16 Where Is Phronsie? +17 Phronsie Is Found +18 The Girls Have Polly Again +19 Phronsie Is Well Again +20 The Secret +21 The Whitneys' Little Plan +22 Joel +23 Of Many Things +24 Away + + + + +I + +PHRONSIE'S PIE + + +"Jefferson," said Phronsie, with a grave uplifting of her eyebrows, "I +think I will go down into the kitchen and bake a pie; a very little +pie, Jefferson." + +"Bless you, Miss," replied the cook, showing his white teeth in glee, +"it is the making of the kitchen when you come it." + +"Yes, Jefferson," said Phronsie slowly, "I think I will go down make +one. It must be very, very full of plums, you know," looking up at him +anxiously, "for Polly dearly loves plums." + +"It shall be that plummy," said Jefferson convincingly, "that you'd +think you never saw such a one for richness. Oh, my! what a pie that +shall be!" exclaimed the cook, shutting up one eye to look through the +other in a spasm of delight at an imaginary pie; "so it's for Miss Mary, +is it?" + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "it is. Oh, Jefferson, I'm so glad you like to +have me make one," she clasped her hands in silent rapture, and sat down +on the lowest stair to think it over a bit, Jefferson looking at her, +forgetful that the under cook was fuming in the deserted domains over +his delay to return. At last he said, bowing respectfully, "If you +please, Miss, it's about time to begin. Such a pie ain't done without a +deal of care, and we'd best have it a-baking as soon as may be." + +"Yes," said Phronsie, getting off from her stair, and surrendering her +hand to his big black palm, "we ought to go right this very minute. But +I must get my apron on;" she stopped and looked down at her red dress. + +"Oh! you can take one of my aprons," said the cook, "they're as fine, +and big, and white, and I'll just put you in one of 'em and tie you up +as snug; you'll come out as clean and sweet when we're through, as you +are now, Miss." + +"Tie me up?" laughed Phronsie in glee. "Oh! how nice, Jefferson. Do you +know I love you very much, Jefferson, you're so very good to me?" + +The big fellow drew a long breath. "No, Miss, I'm big and black, and +just fit to stay downstairs," he managed to say. + +"But I love you better because you are black, Jefferson," insisted +Phronsie, "a great deal better. You are not like everybody else, but you +are just yourself," clinging to his hand. + +"Well, Miss, I ain't just fit for a lily to touch and that's the truth," +looking down at his palm that the small white hand grasped closely. +"It's clean, Miss," he added with pardonable pride, "but it's awful +black." + +"I like it better black, Jefferson," said Phronsie again, "really and +truly I do, because then it's your very, very own," in a tone that +thrilled him much as if a queen had knighted him on the spot. + +This important declaration over, the two set forth on their way toward +the kitchen, Phronsie clinging to his hand, and chatting merrily over +the particular pie in prospect, with varied remarks on pies in general, +that by and by would be ventured upon if this present one were a +success--and very soon tied up in one of the cook's whitest aprons she +was seated with due solemnity at the end of the baking table, the proper +utensils and materials in delightful confusion before her, and the lower +order of kitchen satellites revolving around her, and Jefferson the +lesser sphere. + +"Now all go back to your work," said that functionary when he considered +the staring and muttered admiration had been indulged in long enough, +"and leave us." + +"I want you," said his assistant, touching his elbow. + +"Clear out," said Jefferson angrily, his face turned quite from +Phronsie. + +But she caught the tone and immediately laid down the bit of dough she +was moulding. + +"Do go," she begged, "and come back quickly," smiling up into his face. +"See, I'm going to pat and pat and pat, oh! ever so much before you come +back." + +So Jefferson followed the under cook, the scullery boy went back to +cleaning the knives, Susan, the parlor maid who was going through the +kitchen with her dustpan and broom, hurried off with a backward glance +or two, and Phronsie was left quite alone to hum her way along in her +blissful culinary attempt. + +"Bless me!" exclaimed a voice close to her small ear, as she was +attempting for the fifth time to roll out the paste quite as thin as she +had seen Jefferson do, "what is this? Bless my soul! it's Phronsie!" + +Phronsie set down the heavy rolling-pin and turned in her chair with a +gleeful laugh. + +"Dear, dear Grandpapa!" she cried, clasping her floury hands, "oh! I'm +so glad you've come to see me make a pie all by myself. It's for Polly, +and it's to be full of plums; Jefferson let me make it." + +"Jefferson? And where is he, pray?" cried Mr. King irately. "Pretty +fellow, to bring you down to these apartments, and then go off and +forget you. Jefferson!" he called sharply, "here, where are you?" + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Phronsie in dire distress, "I sent him; +Jefferson didn't want to go, Grandpapa dear, really and truly, he went +because I asked him." + +"If you please, sir," began Jefferson, hurrying up, "I only stepped off +a bit to the cellar. Bassett sent down a lot of turnips, they ain't +first-rate, and"-- + +"All right," said Mr. King, cutting him short with a wave of his hand, +"if Miss Phronsie sent you off, it's all right; I don't want to hear any +more elaborate explanations." + +"Little Miss hasn't been alone but a few minutes," said Jefferson in a +worried way. + +"And see," said Phronsie, turning back to her efforts, while one hand +grasped the old gentleman's palm, "I've almost got it to look like +Jefferson's. Almost, haven't I?" she asked, regarding it anxiously. + +"It will be the most beautiful pie," cried Mr. King, a hearty enthusiasm +succeeding his irritability, "that ever was baked. I wish you'd make me +one sometime, Phronsie." + +"Do you?" she cried in a tremor of delight, "and will you really have it +on the table, and cut it with Aunt Whitney's big silver knife?" + +"That I will," declared Mr. King solemnly. + +"Then some day I'll come down here again, Jefferson," cried Phronsie in +a transport, "and bake one for my dear Grandpapa. That is, if this one +is good. Oh! you do suppose it will be good, don't you?" appealingly at +him. + +"It shall," said Jefferson stoutly, and seizing the rolling-pin with +extreme determination. "You want a bit more butter worked in, here," a +dab with skillful fingers, and a little manipulation with the flour, a +roll now and then most deftly, and the paste was laid out before +Phronsie. "Now, Miss, you can put it in the dish." + +"But is isn't my pie," said Phronsie, and, big girl as she felt herself +to be, she sat back in her chair, her lower lip quivering. + +"Not your pie?" repeated the cook, bringing himself up straight to gaze +at her. + +"No," said Phronsie, shaking her yellow head gravely, "it isn't my pie +now, Jefferson. You put in the things, and rolled it." + +"Leave your fingers off from it, can't you?" cried Mr. King sharply. +"Goodness! this pie isn't to have a professional touch about it. Get +some more flour and stuff, whatever it is you make a pie of, and let her +begin again. There, I'll sit down and watch you; then there'll be some +chance of having things straight." So he drew up a chair to the side of +the table, first calling off Pete, the scullery boy, from his knives to +come and wipe it off for him, and Mrs. Tucker who was in kitchen dialect +"Tucker," to see that the boy did his work well. + +"Lor' bless you, sir," said Tucker, bestowing a final polish with her +apron, "'twas like satin before, sir--not a wisp of dust." + +"I don't want any observations from you," said the old gentleman, +depositing himself in the chair. "There, you can go back to your work, +Mrs. Tucker, and you too, Pete. Now I'll see that this pie is to your +liking, Phronsie." + +But Phronsie still sat back in her chair, thoughtfully surveying +Jefferson. + +"Grandpapa," she said at last slowly, "I think I'd rather have the first +pie, I really would, Grandpapa, may I?" She brought her yellow head +forward by a sudden movement, and looked deep into his keen eyes. + +"Bless my soul! Rather have the first pie?" repeated the old gentleman +in astonishment, "why, I thought you wanted to make one all yourself." + +"I think I'd rather do part of it," said Phronsie with great +deliberateness, "then Polly'll like it, and eat it, and I'll do yours, +Grandpapa dear, just as Jefferson fixed mine, all alone. Please let me." +She held him fast with her eyes, and waited for his answer. + +"So you shall!" cried Mr. King in great satisfaction, "make mine all +alone. This one would better go as it is. Put away the flour and things, +Jefferson; Miss Phronsie doesn't want them." + +Phronsie gave a relieved little sigh. "And, Jefferson, if you hadn't +showed me how, I couldn't ever in all this world make Grandpapa's. Now +give me the little plate, do." + +"Here 'tis, Miss," said the cook, all his tremor over the blunder he had +made, disappearing, since, after all, things were quite satisfactory. +And the little plate forthcoming, Phronsie tucked away the paste +lovingly in its depths, and began the important work of concocting the +mixture with which the pie was to be filled, Mr. King sitting by with +the gravity of a statue, even to the deliberate placing of each plum. + +"Where's Phronsie?" called a voice above in one of the upper halls. + +"Oh! she's coming, Polly is!" cried Phronsie, deserting a plum thrust in +endwise in the middle of the pie, to throw her little sticky fingers +around Jefferson's neck; "oh! do take off my apron; and let me go. +She'll see my pie!" + +"Stop!" cried Mr. King, getting up somewhat stiffly to his feet, "I'll +take off the apron myself. There, Phronsie, there you are. Whew! how hot +you keep your kitchen, Jefferson," and he wiped his face. + +"Now we'll run," said Phronsie softly, "and not make a bit of noise, +Grandpapa dear, and, Jefferson, please put on my top to the pie, and +don't let it burn, and I'll come down very, very soon again, and bake +one all alone by myself for Grandpapa." + +The old gentleman kept up very well with the soft patter of her feet +till they reached the foot of the staircase. "There, there, child," he +said, "there's not the least need of hurry now." + +"But she will come down," said Phronsie, in gentle haste pulling at his +hand, "then if she should see it, Grandpapa!" + +"To be sure; that would indeed be dreadful," said Mr. King, getting over +the stairs very creditably. "There, here we are now. Whew! it's terribly +warm in this house!" + +But there was no danger from Polly; she was at this very instant, not +being able to find Phronsie, hurrying off toward the library in search +of Mrs. Whitney. + +"We want to do the very loveliest thing!" she cried, rushing in, her +cheeks aflame. "Oh! pray excuse me." She stopped short, blushing +scarlet. + +"Don't feel badly, Polly dear," said Mrs. Whitney, over in the dim +light, where the divan was drawn up in the east window, and she held out +her hand and smiled; the other lady whose tete-a-tete was thus summarily +disturbed was elderly and very tall and angular. She put up her eyeglass +at the intrusion and murmured "Ah?" + +"This is Polly Pepper," said Mrs. Whitney, as Polly, feeling unusually +awkward and shy, stumbled across the library to get within the kind arms +awaiting her. + +"One of the children that your kindness received in this house?" said +the tall lady, making good use of the eyeglass. The color mounted +steadily on Polly's already rosy cheek, at the scrutiny now going on +with the greatest freedom. + +"One of the dear children who make this house a sunny place for us all," +said Mrs. Whitney distinctly. + +"Ah? I see. You are extremely good to put it in that way." A low, well- +bred laugh followed this speech. Its sound irritated the young girl's +ear unspeakably, and the brown eyes flashed, and though there was really +no occasion to feel what was not addressed to her, Polly was quite sure +she utterly disliked the lady before her. + +"My dear Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. Whitney in the gentlest of accents, +"you do not comprehend; it is not possible for you to understand how +very happy we all are here. The house is quite another place, I assure +you, from the abode you saw last before you went abroad." + +Mrs. Chatterton gave another low, unpleasant laugh, and this time +shrugged her shoulders. + +"Polly dear," said Mrs. Whitney with a smile, "say good-morning to Mrs. +Chatterton, and then run away. I will hear your wonderful plan by and +by. I shall be glad to, child," she was guilty of whispering in the +small ear. + +"Good-morning, Mrs. Chatterton," said Polly slowly, the brown eyes +looking steadily into the traveled and somewhat seamed countenance +before her. + +"Good-morning," and Polly found herself once more across the floor, and +safely out in the hall, the door closed between them. + +"Who is she?" she cried in an indignant spasm to Jasper, who ran up, and +she lifted her eyes brimming over with something quite new to him. He +stopped aghast. + +"Who?" he cried. "Oh, Polly! what has happened?" + +"Mrs. Chatterton. And she looked at me--oh! I can't tell you how she +looked; as if I were a bug, or a hateful worm beneath her," cried Polly, +quite as much aghast at herself. "It makes me feel horridly, Jasper--you +can't think. Oh! that old"--He stopped, pulling himself up with quite +an effort. "Has she come back--what brought her, pray tell, so soon?" + +"I don't know, I am sure," said Polly, laughing at his face. "I was only +in the room a moment, I think, but it seemed an age with that eyeglass, +and that hateful little laugh." + +"Oh! she always sticks up that thing in her eye," said Jasper coolly, +"and she's everlastingly ventilating that laugh on everybody. She thinks +it high-bred and elegant, but it makes people want to kill her for it." +He looked and spoke annoyed. "To think you fell into her clutches!" he +added. + +"Well, who is she?" cried Polly, smoothing down her ruffled feathers, +when she saw the effect of her news on him. "I should dearly love to +know." + +"Cousin Algernon's wife," said Jasper briefly. + +"And who is he?" cried Polly, again experiencing a shock that this +dreadful person was a relative to whom due respect must be shown. + +"Oh! a cousin of father's," said Jasper. "He was nice, but he's dead." + +"Oh!" said Polly. + +"She's been abroad for a good half-dozen years, and why she doesn't stay +there when everybody supposed she was going to, astonishes me," said +Jasper, after a moment. "Well, it will not be for long, I presume, that +we shall have the honor; she'll be easily tired of America, and take +herself off again." + +"She doesn't stay in this house, does she, Jasper?" cried Polly in a +tone of horror. + +"No; that is, unless she chooses to, then we can't turn her off. She's a +relative, you know." + +"Hasn't she any home?" asked Polly, "or any children?" + +"Home? Yes, an estate down in Bedford County?-Dunraven Lodge; but it's +all shut up, and in the hands of agents who have been trying for the +half-dozen years she was abroad, to sell it for her. She may have come +back to settle down there again, there's no telling what she will do. In +the meantime, I fancy she'll make her headquarters here," he said +gloomily. + +"Oh, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly, seizing his arm, feeling that here was +need of comfort indeed, "how very dreadful! Don't you suppose something +will happen to take her away?" + +"I don't see what can," said Jasper, prolonging the gloom to feel the +comfort it brought. "You see she has nobody who wants her, to step in +and relieve us. She has two nephews, but oh! you ought to see them +fight!" + +"Fight?" repeated Polly aghast. + +"Yes; you can't dignify their skirmishes by any other name," said +Jasper, in disgust. "So you see our chances for keeping her as long as +she condescends to stay are really very good." + +Polly clung to his arm in speechless dismay. Meanwhile conversation fast +and brisk was going on between the two shut up in the library. + +"It is greatly to your discredit, Marian," said Mrs. Chatterton in a +high, cold voice, "that you didn't stop all this nonsense on your +father's part, before the thing got to such a pass as to install them in +this house." + +"On the contrary," said Mrs. Whitney with a little laugh, "I did +everything I could to further the plan that father wisely made." + +"Wisely!" cried Mrs. Chatterton in scorn. "Oh, you silly child! don't +you see what it will all tend to?" + +"I see that it has made us all very happy for five years," said Mrs. +Whitney, preserving her composure, "so I presume the future doesn't hold +much to dread on that score." + +"The future is all you have to dread," declared Mrs. Chatterton harshly. +"The present may be well enough; though I should think existence with +that low, underbred family here, would be a"? + +"You may pause just where you are, Mrs. Chatterton," said Marian, still +with the gentlest of accents, but with a determination that made the +other look down at her in astonishment, "not another word shall you +utter in that strain, nor will I listen to it." And with fine temper +undisturbed in her blue eyes, she regarded her relative. + +"Dear me, Marian! I begin to notice your age more now. You shouldn't fly +into such rages; they wear on one fearfully; and especially for a +stranger too, and against your own people--how can you?" + +Mrs. Chatterton drew out a vinaigrette, then a fan from a silken bag, +with clasps that she was always glad to reflect were heirlooms. "It's +trying, I must confess," she declared, alternately applying the +invigorating salts and waving the combination of gauze and sandalwood, +"to come home to such a reception. But," and a heavy sigh, "I must bear +it." + +"You ought to see father," cried Mrs. Whitney, rising. "I must go at +once and tell him of your arrival." + +"Oh! I don't know that I care about seeing Cousin Horatio yet," said +Mrs. Chatterton carelessly. "He will probably fall into one of his +rages, and my nerves have been upset quite enough by you. I think I'll +go directly to my apartments." She rose also. + +"Father must at once be informed of your arrival," repeated Marian +quietly. "I'll send him in to see you." + +"And I shall go to my apartments," declared Mrs. Chatterton +determinedly. + +"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed Mr. King's voice, and in he came, with +Phronsie, fresh from the kitchen, clinging to his hand. + + + + +II + +COUSIN EUNICE CHATTERTON + + +Phronsie dropped one small hand by her side, and stood quite still +regarding the visitor. + +"Oh, my goodness me," ejaculated Mrs. Chatterton, startled out of her +elegance, and not pausing to adjust the glass, but using her two good +eyes to the best advantage. + +"Hoity-toity! So you are back again!" exclaimed Mr. King by way of +welcome. "Well, and if I may ask, what brought you now, Eunice?" + +Mrs. Chatterton gathered herself up and smiled in a superior way. + +"Never mind my reasons, Cousin Horatio. What a fine child you have +there;" now the glass came into play; "pray tell me all about her." + +"You have well said," observed Mr. King, seating himself with the utmost +deliberateness, and drawing Phronsie to her accustomed place on his +knee, where she nestled, regardless of his immaculate linen and fine +waistcoat, "Phronsie Pepper is indeed a fine child; a very fine child, +Madam." + +"Oh, my, and Oh, my!" cried Mrs. Chatterton, holding up her hands, "to +think that you can so demean yourself; why, she's actually mussing your +shirt-front with her dirty little hands!" + +"Phronsie Pepper's hands are never dirty, Madam," said the old gentleman +gravely. "Sit still, child," as Phronsie in a state of alarm struggled +to slip down from his lap, thrusting the two members thus referred to, +well out before her. + +Mrs. Chatterton burst into a loud laugh. "To think I have come to see +Horatio King in such a state! Jasper Horatio King!" she repeated +scornfully. "I heard about it through the Bascombs' letters, but I +wouldn't believe it till I used my eyes. It's positively dreadful!" + +Mr. King put back his head and laughed also; so heartily, that Phronsie +ceased to struggle, and turned to regard him in silent astonishment; and +Mrs. Whitney, charmed that the rage usually produced by conversation +with Cousin Algernon's wife was not forthcoming, began to laugh, too, so +that the amusement of the tall lady was quenched in the general +hilarity. + +"What you can find in my words to cause such an unseemly outburst, I +cannot see," she cried in a passion. + +"I'm under the impression that you led off the amusement yourself," said +Mr. King, wiping his eyes. "Phronsie, it's all very funny, isn't it?" +looking down into the little wondering face. + +"Is it really funny?" asked Phronsie. "Does the lady like it?" + +"Not particularly, I suspect," said Mr. King carelessly. + +"And that you can talk with that chit, ignoring me, your cousin's wife, +is insufferable." Mrs. Chatterton now arose speedily from the divan, and +shook out a flounce or two with great venom. "I had intended to make you +a visit. Now it is quite impossible." + +"As you like," said the old gentleman, also rising, and placing Phronsie +on her feet, observing ostentatious care to keep her hand. "My house is +open to you, Eunice," with a wave of his disengaged hand in old-time +hospitality, "but of course you must suit yourself." + +"It's rather hard upon a person of sensibility, to come home after a six +years' absence," said Cousin Eunice with a pathetic sniff, and once more +seeking her vinaigrette in the depths of the silken bag, "to meet only +coldness and derision. In fact, it is very hard." + +"No doubt, no doubt," said the old gentleman hastily, "I can imagine +such a case, but it has nothing to do with you. Now, if you are going to +stay, Eunice, say so at once, and proceed to your room. If not, why you +must go, and understand it is no one's fault but your own." + +He drew himself up and looked long and hard into the thin pale face +before him. Phronsie pulled at his hand. + +"I want to ask the lady to stay, Grandpapa dear." + +"She doesn't need urging," said old Mr. King quite distinctly, and not +moving a muscle. + +"But, Grandpapa dear, she isn't glad about something." + +"No more am I." + +"Grandpapa," cried Phronsie, moving off a bit, though not deserting his +hand, and standing on her tiptoes, "I want her to stay, to see me. +Perhaps she hasn't any little girls." + +"To see you?" cried Mr. King irately. "Say no more, child, say no more. +She's been abusing you right and left, like a pick-pocket." + +"What is a pick-pocket?" asked Phronsie, getting down from her tiptoes. + +"Oh! a scoundrel who puts his hands into pockets; picks out what doesn't +belong to him, in fact." + +Phronsie stood quite still, and shook her head gravely at the tall +figure. "That was not nice," she said soberly. + +"Now do you want her to stay?" cried the old gentleman. + +"Insufferable!" repeated Mrs. Chatterton between her teeth, "to mix me +up with that chit!" + +"Yes, I do," said Phronsie decidedly, "I do, Grandpapa. Now I know she +hasn't any little girls--if she had little girls, she wouldn't say such +very unnice things; I want the poor lady to stay with me." + +Mrs. Chatterton turned and went abruptly off to the door, hesitated, and +looked back. + +"I see your household is in a very chaotic state, Cousin Horatio. Still +I will remain a few days," with extreme condescension, "on condition +that these Peppers are not thrust upon my attention." + +"I make no conditions," said the old gentleman coolly. "If you stay, you +must accept my household as you find it." + +"Come, Marian," said Mrs. Chatterton, holding out her hand to Mrs. +Whitney. "You may help me to my apartments if you like. I am quite +unstrung by all this," and she swept out without a backward glance. + +"Has she gone?" cried Jasper, hurrying in with Polly running after. +"It's 'stay,' isn't it, father?" as he saw the old gentleman's face. + +"Yes," said Mr. King grimly, "it is 'stay' indeed, Jasper." + +"Well, now then, you've a piece of work on your hands about the biggest +you ever did yet, Polly Pepper!" cried Jasper, "to make things +comfortable in this house. I shall be just as cross as can be imagined, +to begin with." + +"You cross!" cried Polly. + +"Cross as a bear; Marian will fight against the prevailing ill wind, but +it will finally blow her down to a state of depression where her best +friend wouldn't recognize her, and"-- + +"You don't mention me, my boy," said Mr. King dryly. + +Jasper looked into his father's eyes, and they both laughed. + +"And if you, Polly Pepper, don't keep things bright, why, we shall all +go to the dogs," said the old gentleman, sobering down. "So mind you do, +and we'll try to bear Cousin Algernon's relict." + +"I will," said Polly stoutly, though "relict" sounded very dreadful to +begin with. + +"Give us your hand, then," said Jasper's father, putting out his palm. +"There!" releasing it, "now I'm much more comfortable about matters." + +"And give me your hand, Polly," cried Jasper, his own brown hand flying +to meet hers. "There! and now I'm comfortable too! So it's a compact, +and a sure one!" + +"And I want to give my hand," cried Phronsie, very much aggrieved. +"Here, Jasper." + +"Bless my soul, so you must!" cried old Mr. King; "to think we didn't +ask you first. There--and there!" + +"And, Phronsie darling," cried Polly in a rapture, "you must promise +with me, after you have with the others. I couldn't ever get along in +all this world without that." + +So the ceremony of sealing the compact having been observed with great +gravity, Phronsie drew a long breath, and now felt that the "poor lady" +might come down at any time to find all things prepared for her. + +"Now tell our plan," cried Jasper to Polly, "and put this disagreeable +business out of our heads. It's a fine one," he added to his father. + +"Of course it is," cried the old gentleman. + +"Well, you know Joel and Davie and Van and Percy are coming home from +school next week for the Christmas holidays," began Polly, trying to +still the wild beating of her heart. + +"Bless me! so they are," said Mr. King. "How time flies, to be sure! +Well, go on, Polly." + +"And we ought to do something to celebrate," said Polly, "at least don't +you think so?" she asked anxiously, looking up in his face. + +"To be sure I do," cried the old gentleman heartily. "Well, what would +you do, Polly child, to show the youngsters we're proud of them, and +glad to get them back--hey?" + +"We want to get up a little play," said Polly, "Jasper and I, and act +it." + +"And have music," cried Jasper. "Polly shall play on the piano. The boys +will be so delighted to see how she has improved." + +"And Jasper will play too," cried Polly eagerly. "Oh, Jasper! will you +play that concerto, the one you played when Mary Gibbs was here at tea +last week? Do, Jasper, do." + +"That nearly floored me," said Jasper. + +"No; you said it was Mary's watching you like a lynx--you know you did," +said Polly, laughing merrily. + +"Never mind," said the old gentleman. "What next, Polly? The play is all +right." + +"I should think it was," cried Jasper. "It's the Three Dragons, and the +Princess Clotilde." + +"Oh, my goodness," exclaimed Mr. King, "What a play for Christmas Eve!" + +"Well, you'll say it's a splendid hit!" cried Jasper, "when you see it +from the private box we are going to give you." + +"So you are intending to honor me, are you?" cried his father, vastly +pleased to find himself as ever, the central figure in their plans. +"Well, well, I dare say it will all be as fine as can be to welcome +these young scapegraces home. What next, Polly?" + +"It must be kept a perfect surprise," cried Polly, clasping her hands +while the color flew over her face. "No one must even whisper it to each +other, the day before Christmas when the boys get here, for Joel is so +very dreadful whenever there is a secret." + +"His capacity certainly is good," said Mr. King dryly. "We will all be +very careful." + +"And Phronsie is to be Princess Clotilde," cried Jasper, seizing her +suddenly, to prance around the room, just like old times. + +"Oh, Jasper! I'm eight years old," she cried, struggling to free +herself. + +"Nonsense! What of it--you are the baby of this household." But he set +her on her feet nevertheless, one hand still patting the soft yellow +waves over her brow. "Go on, Polly, do, and lay the whole magnificence +before father. He will be quite overcome." + +"That would be disastrous," said Mr. King; "better save your effects +till the grand affair comes off." + +"Jasper is to be one of the dragons," announced Polly, quite in her +element, "that is, the head dragon; Ben is to be another, and we haven't +quite decided whether to ask Archy Hurd or Clare to take the third one." + +"Clare has the most 'go' in him," said Jasper critically. + +"Then I think we'll decide now to ask him," said Polly, "don't you, +Jasper?" + +"A dragon without 'go' in him would be most undesirable, I should fancy. +Well, what next do you propose to do, Polly?" asked Mr. King. + +"Now that we know that you will allow us to have it," cried Polly in a +rapture, "why, we can think up splendid things. We've only the play +written so far, sir." + +"Polly wrote the most," said Jasper. + +"Oh, no, Jasper! I only put in the bits," said Polly. "He planned it?- +every single bit, Jasper did." + +"Well, she thought up the dragons, and the cave, and"?- + +"Oh! that was easy enough," said Polly, guilty of interrupting, "because +you see something has to carry off the Princess Clotilde." + +"Oh, now! you are not going to frighten my little girl," cried Mr. King. +"I protest against the whole thing if you do," and he put out his hand. +"Come, Phronsie," when, as of old, she hurried to his side obediently. + +"Oh! we are going to show her the boys, and how we dress them up just +like dragons," cried Polly, "and while they are prancing around and +slashing their tails at rehearsal, I'm going to keep saying, 'That's +nothing but Jasper and Ben and Clare, you know, Phronsie,' till I get +her accustomed to them. You won't be frightened, will you, pet, at those +dear, sweet old dragons?" she ended, and getting on her knees, she +looked imploringly into Phronsie's brown eyes. + +"N--no," said Phronsie, slowly, "not if they are really Jasper and Ben +and Clare." + +"They really will be," cried Polly, enchanted at her success, "Jasper +and Ben and Clare; and they will give you a ride, and show you a cave, +oh! and perfect quantities of things; you can't think how many!" + +Phronsie clapped her hands and laughed aloud in glee. + +"Oh! I don't care if they are true dragons, Polly, I don't," she cried, +dreadfully excited. "Make 'em real big live ones, do; do make them big, +and let me ride on their backs." + +"These will be just as real," said Polly comfortingly, "that is, they'll +act real, only there will be boys inside of them. Oh! we'll have them +nice, dear, don't you fear." + +"But I'd really rather have true ones," sighed Phronsie. + + + + +III + +THE REHEARSAL + + +"Now, Phronsie," said Polly, on her knees before the Princess, who was +slowly evolving into "a thing of beauty," "do hold still just a minute, +dear. There," as she thrust in another pin, then turned her head +critically to view her work, "I do hope that is right." + +Phronsie sighed. "May I just stretch a wee little bit, Polly," she asked +timidly, "before you pin it up? Just a very little bit?" + +"To be sure you may," said Polly, looking into the flushed little face; +"I'll tell you, you may walk over to the window and back, once; that'll +rest you and give me a chance to see what is the matter with that back +drapery." + +So Phronsie, well pleased, gathered up the embyro robe of the Princess +and moved off, a bewildering tangle of silver spangles and floating +lace, drawn over the skirt of one of Mrs. Whitney's white satin gowns. + +"There ought to be a dash of royal purple somewhere," said Polly, +sitting on the floor to see her go, and resting her tired hands on her +knees. "Now where shall I get it, and where shall I put it when I do +have it?" She wrinkled up her eyebrows a moment, lost in thought over +the momentous problem. "Oh! I know," and she sprang up exultingly. +"Phronsie, won't this be perfectly lovely? we can take that piece of +tissue paper Auntie gave you, and I can cut out little knots and sashes. +It is so soft, that in the gaslight they will look like silk. How fine!" + +"Can't I be a Princess unless you sew up that purple paper?" asked +Phronsie, pausing suddenly to look over her shoulder in dismay at Polly. + +"Why, yes, you can be, of course," said Polly, "but you can't be as good +a one as if you had a dash of royal purple about you. What's a bit of +tissue paper to the glory of being a Princess?" she cried, with +sparkling eyes. "Dear me, I wish I could be one." + +"Well, you may have it, Polly," said Phronsie with a sigh, "and then +afterwards I'll rip it all off and smooth it out, and it will be almost +as good as new." + +"I think there won't be much left of it when the play is over," cried +Polly with a laugh; "why, the dragons are going to carry you off to +their cave, you know, and you are to be rescued by the knight, just +think, Phronsie! You can't expect to have such perfectly delightful +times, and come out with a quantity of tissue paper all safe. Something +has to be scarified to royalty, child." + +Phronsie sighed again. But as Polly approved of royalty so highly, she +immediately lent herself to the anticipations of the pleasure before +her, smothering all lesser considerations. + +"When you get your little silver cap on with one of Auntie's diamond +rings sewed in it, why, you'll be too magnificent for anything," said +Polly, now pulling and patting with fresh enthusiasm, since the "purple +dash" was forthcoming. + +"Princesses don't wear silver caps with diamond rings sewed in them," +observed Phronsie wisely. + +"Of course not; they have diamonds by the bushel, and don't need to sew +rings in their caps to make them sparkle," said Polly, plaiting and +pinning rapidly, "but in dressing up for a play, we have to take a +poetic license. There, turn just one bit to the right, Phronsie dear." + +"What's poetic license?" demanded Phronsie, wrenching her imagination +off from the bushel of diamonds to seize practical information. + +"Oh! when a man writes verses and says things that aren't so," said +Polly, her mind on the many details before her. + +"But he ought not to," cried Phronsie, with wide eyes, "say things that +are not so. I thought poets were always very good, Polly." + +"Oh! well, people let him," said Polly, carelessly, "because he puts it +into poetry. It would never do in prose; that would be quite shocking." + +"Oh!" said Phronsie, finding the conversation some alleviation to the +fitting-on process. + +"Now this left side," said Polly, twisting her head to obtain a good +view of the point in question, "is just right; I couldn't do it any +better if I were to try a thousand times. Why won't this other one +behave, and fall into a pretty curve, I wonder?" + +Phronsie yawned softly as the brown eyes were safely behind her. + +"I shall gather it up anyway, so," and Polly crushed the refractory +folds recklessly in one hand; "that's the way Mary Gibbs's hat trimmings +look, and I'm sure they're a complete success. Oh! that's lovely," cried +Polly, at the effect. "Now, that's the treatment the whole drapery +needs," she added in the tone of an art connoisseur. "Oh!" + +A rushing noise announced the approach of two or three boys, together +with the barking of Prince, as they all ran down the wide hall. + +"O dear, dear!" exclaimed Polly, hurriedly pulling and pinning, "there +come the boys to rehearse. It can't be four o'clock," as the door opened +and three members of the cast entered. + +"It's quarter-past four," said Jasper, laughing and pulling out his +watch; "we gave you an extra fifteen minutes, as you had such a lot to +do. Dear me! but you are fine, Phronsie. I make my obeisance to Princess +Clotilde!" and he bowed low to the little silver and white figure, as +did the other two boys, and then drew off to witness the final touches. + +"It's a most dreadful thing," cried Polly, pushing back the brown waves +from her brow, as she also fell off to their point of view, "to get up a +princess. I had no idea it was such a piece of work." + +"You have scored an immense success," said Jasper enthusiastically. "Oh, +Phronsie! you will make the hit of the season." + +"You'll think it is even much nicer when it is done," said Polly, vastly +relieved that Jasper had given such a kind verdict. "It's to have a dash +of royal purple on that right side, and in one of the shoulder knots, +and to catch up her train." + +"That will be very pretty, I don't doubt," said Jasper, trying to +resolve himself into the cold critic, "but it seems to me it is almost +perfect now, Polly." + +"Oh! thank you so much," she cried, with blooming cheeks. "How do you +like it, Clare and Bensie?" + +"I can't tell," said Ben, slowly regarding the Princess on all sides; +"it's so transforming." + +"It's tiptop!" cried Clare. "It out-princesses any princess I've ever +imagined." + +"Well, it's a perfect relief," said Polly, "to have you boys come in. +I've been working so over it that I was ready to say it was horrid. It's +too bad, isn't it, that Dick can't be here to-day to rehearse his part?" + +"To be sure," exclaimed Jasper, looking around, "where is the Princess's +page?" + +"He's gone to the dentist's," said Polly, making a wry face. "Auntie had +to make the appointment for this afternoon, and we couldn't put off the +rehearsal; Clare can't come any other time, you know." + +Phronsie turned an anxious face to the window. "I hope he's not being +hurt very much," she said slowly. + +"I don't believe he is," Polly made haste to answer most cheerfully, "it +was only one tooth, you know, Phronsie, to be filled. Auntie says Dr. +Porter told her the rest are all right." + +But a cloud rested on the Princess's face. "One tooth is something," she +said. + +"Just think how nice it will be when it is all over, and Dick comes +scampering in," cried Jasper, with great hilarity. + +"Do climb up on the sofa, Phronsie," urged Polly, looking into the pale +little face, "you must sit down and rest a bit, you're so tired." + +"I will read the prologue while she rests," said Jasper. + +"So you can," said Polly. "Take care, child," in alarm, "you mustn't +curl up in the corner like that; princesses don't ever do so." + +"Don't they?" said Phronsie, flying off from the lovely corner, to +straighten out again into the dignity required; "not when they are +little girls, Polly?" + +"No, indeed," said Polly, with a rescuing hand among the silver spangles +and lace; "they must never forget that they are princesses, Phronsie. +There now, you're all right." + +"Oh!" said Phronsie, sitting quite stiffly, glad if she could not be +comfortable, she could be a princess. + +"'Gentle ladies and brave sirs,'" began Jasper in a loud, impressive +tone, from the temporary stage, the large rug in front of the crackling +hearth fire. + +Clare burst into a laugh. "See here now," cried Jasper, brandishing his +text at him, "if you embarrass me like that, you may leave, you old +dragon!" + +"You ought to see your face," cried Clare. "Jap, you are anything but a +hit." + +"You'll be yet," declared Jasper with a pretended growl, and another +flourish of the manuscript. + +"Go on, do," implored Polly, "I think it is lovely. Clare, you really +ought to be ashamed," and she shook her brown head severely at him. + +"If I don't quench such melodrama in the outset," said Clare, "he'll +ruin us all. Fair ladies and brave sirs," mimicking to perfection +Jasper's tones. + +"Thank you for a hint," cried Jasper, pulling out his pencil. "I didn't +say 'fair'; that's better than 'gentle.' I wish critics would always be +so useful as to give one good idea. Heigho! here goes again: + + "'Fair ladies and brave sirs, + The player's art is to amuse, + Instruct, or to confuse + By too much good advice, + But poorly given: + That no one follows, because, forsooth, + 'Tis thrown at him, neck and heels. + The drama, pure and simple, is forgot + In tugging in the moral'"? + +"I thought you were going to alter 'tugging in' to something more +elegant," said Polly. + +"Lugging in," suggested Clare, with another laugh. + +"Morals are always tugged in by the head and shoulders," said Jasper. +"Why not say so?" + +"We should have pretty much the whole anatomy of the human form divine, +if you had your way," cried Clare. "Listen! + +"'Because, forsooth, 'tis thrown at him, neck and heels' and 'Tugging in +the moral, head and shoulders.' Now just add 'by the pricking of my +thumbs,' etc., and you have them all." + +Jasper joined as well as Polly and Ben in the laugh at the prologue's +expense, but Phronsie sat erect winking hard, her royal hands folded +quite still in her lap. + +"You're bound for a newspaper office, my boy," said Jasper at length. +"How you will cut into the coming poet, and maul the fledgling of the +prose writer! Well, I stand corrected. + + "'The drama pure and simple, + Is forgot, in straining at the moral.'" + "Is that any better?" (To the audience.) + +"Yes, I think it is," said Polly, "but I do believe it's time to talk +more elegantly, Jasper. It is due to the people in the private boxes, +you know." + +"Oh! the boxes are to have things all right before the play is over; +never you fear, Polly," said Jasper. + + "'A poor presentment, + You will say we give; + But cry you mercy, Sirs, and'"? + +"I don't like 'cry you mercy,'" announced Ben slowly, "because it +doesn't seem to mean anything." + +"Oh! don't cut that out," exclaimed Polly, clasping her hands and +rushing up to Ben. "That's my pet phrase; you mustn't touch that, +Bensie." + +"But it doesn't mean anything," reiterated Ben in a puzzled way. + +"Who cares?" cried Jasper defiantly. "A great many expressions that +haven't the least significance are put in a thing of this sort. Padding, +you know, my dear sir." + +"Oh!" said Ben literally, "I didn't know as you needed padding. All +right, if it is necessary." "It's antique, and perfectly lovely, and +just like Shakespeare," cried Polly, viewing Ben in alarm. + +"Oh! let the Bard of Avon have one say in this production," cried Clare. +"Go on, do, with your 'cry you mercy.' What's next, Jap?" + +"Are you willing, Ben?" asked Jasper, with a glance at Polly. + +"Ye--es," said Ben, also gazing at the rosy face and anxious eyes, "it +can go as padding, I suppose." + +"Oh! I am so glad," exclaimed Polly in glee, and dancing around the +room. "And you won't be sorry, I know, Bensie; the audience will applaud +that very thing I'm almost sure," which made Jasper sternly resolve +something on the spot. + +"Well, I shall never be through at this rate," he said, whirling over +the manuscript to find his place. "Oh! here I am: + + "'But cry you mercy, Sirs and ladies fair, + We aim but to be dragons, + Not mortals posing for effect. + We have a princess, to be sure'"? + +"I should think we have," interrupted Clare with a glance over at the +sofa. "Goodness me, she's fast asleep!" + +"Poor little thing, she is tired to death," cried Polly remorsefully, +while they all rushed over to the heap of lace and spangles, blissfully +oblivious of "prologues." + +"Do let her sleep through this piece of stupidity," said Jasper, +bundling up another satin skirt that Mrs. Whitney had loaned for Polly +to make a choice from. "There," putting it under the yellow head, "we'll +call her when the dragons come on." + +"Take care," cried Polly, with intercepting hand, "that's Auntie's +lovely satin gown." + +"Beg pardon," said Jasper, relinquishing it speedily. "Here's the sofa +pillow, after all," dragging it from its temporary retirement under the +theatrical debris. "Now let's get back to work; time is going fast." In +a lowered voice: + + "'We have a princess, to be sure, + A sweet and gracious Clotilde, + And a knight who does her homage, + But the rest of us + Are fishy, scaly, + Horny and altogether horrid, + And of very low degree + Who scarce know why we are upon the boards, + Except for your amusement, + So prithee'"? + +"Hold!" cried Clare, "what stuff." + +"Give me an inch of time," cried Jasper, hurrying on, "and I'll end the +misery: + + "'So prithee, be amused; + We're undone, if you are not, + And all our labor lost. + Pray laugh, and shake your sides, + And say "'tis good; + I' faith, 'tis very good." + And we shall say + "Your intellects do you credit." + And so we bid you a fond adieu, + And haste away to unshackle the dragons, + Who even now do roar without.'" + +Clare threw himself into the part of the dragons, and forgetful of +Phronsie, gave a loud roar. Polly clapped her hands and tossed an +imaginary bouquet as Jasper bowed himself off. + +"Hush!" said Ben, "you'll wake up Phronsie," but it was too late; there +she sat rubbing her eyes in astonishment. + +"Oh! you darling," cried Polly, running over to her, to clasp her in her +arms, "I'm so sorry I tired you all out, Phronsie dear, do forgive me." + +"I'm not tired," said Phronsie, with dewy eyes. "Has Jasper got through +reading? What was it all about, Polly?" + +"Indeed and I have finished," he cried with a yawn and throwing the +manuscript on the table, "and I don't know in the least what it is all +about, Phronsie." + +"Just a lot of dreadful words," said Clare over in the corner, pulling +at a heap of costumes on the floor. "Never mind; the horrible spell is +broken; come on, you fellows, and tumble into your dragon skins!" + +With that the chief dragon deserted Phronsie, and presently there +resounded the rattle of the scales, the clanking of chains, and the +dragging about of the rest of their paraphernalia. + +"Now, Phronsie," said Jasper, coming back, half-within his dragon skin +and gesticulating, "you see that it's only I in this thing. Look, dear! +here goes in my head," and he pulled on the scaly covering, observing +great care to smile reassuringly the last thing before his countenance +was obscured. + +Phronsie screamed with delight and clapped her hands. "Oh, Jasper! let +me have one on, do, Jasper! I'd much rather be a dragon than a princess. +Really and truly I would, Jasper." + +"I don't agree with you," said Jasper, in a muffled voice. "Phew! this +is no end stuffy, fellows. I can't stand it long." + +"I'm all coming to pieces," said Ben, turning around to regard his back +where the scales yawned fearfully. + +"I'll run and ask Mamsie to come and sew you up," cried Polly, flying +off. "She said she would help, if we wanted her." + + + + +IV + +WELCOME HOME! + + +"Marian," said old Mr. King, putting his head in at the door of her +little writing-room, "can't you get her comfortably out of the way this +morning? I want your services without interruption." + +"She's going down to Pinaud's," said Mrs. Whitney, looking up from the +note she was writing. + +"Capital! when she once gets there, she'll stay the morning," declared +Mr. King, greatly pleased. "Now, then, after she's cleverly off, you may +come to me." + +"I will, father," said Marian, going back with a smile to her +correspondence. + +Half an hour later Thomas, with the aid of the horses and the shopping +coupe having carried off Mrs. Chatterton, Mrs. Whitney pushed aside her +notes, and ran down to her father's study. + +She found him in his velvet morning-gown seated before his table, busy +with a good-sized list of names that was rapidly growing longer under +his pen. + +"Oh! I forgot," he said, looking up; "I intended to tell you to bring +some of your cards and envelopes. I want some invitations written." + +"Are you going to give a dinner?" asked Marian, looking over his +shoulder. "Oh, no! I see by the length of your list it's an evening +affair, or a musicale." + +"You run along, daughter," said the old gentleman, "and get what I tell +you. This is my affair; it's a musicale and something else combined. I +don't just know myself." And he laughed at the sight of her face. + +"If father is only pleased, I don't care what it is," said Mrs. Whitney +to herself, hurrying over the stairs and back again, never once thinking +of Polly's and Jasper's surprise for the boys. + +"You see, Marian," said Mr. King as she sat down by the table, and laid +the cards and envelopes in front of him, "that I'm going to help out +that affair that Jasper and Polly are getting up." + +"Oh, father! how good of you!" exclaimed Mrs. Whitney in a delighted +tone, which immensely pleased the old gentleman, to begin with. + +"They've been working very hard, those two, at their studies this +autumn. I've seen them," cried Mr. King with a shrewd air, "and I'm +going now to give them a little pleasure." + +Marian said nothing, but let him have the comfort of doing all the +talking, which he now enjoyed to his heart's content. + +"Whether the other chaps have done well, I don't know. Davie may have +kept at it, but I suspect the rest of the boys haven't killed themselves +with hard study. But they shall have a good home-coming, at any rate." + +Mrs. Whitney smiled, and he proceeded: + +"Now I'm going to send out these invitations"--he pushed the list toward +her--"I shall have the drawing-room and music-room floors covered, and +all extra seats arranged, give Turner carte blanche as to flowers, if he +can't furnish enough out of our own conservatories--and the evening will +end with a handsome 'spread,' as Jasper calls it. In short, I shall +recognize their attempt to make it pleasant for the boys' holiday, by +helping them out on the affair all I can." The old gentleman now leaned +back in his big chair and studied his daughter's face. + +"And you'll never regret it, father," she cried, with an enthusiasm that +satisfied him, "for these young people will all repay you a thousand- +fold, I do believe, in the time to come." + +"Don't I know it?" cried Mr. King, getting out of his chair hastily to +pace the floor. "Goodness me! they repay me already. They're fine young +things, every one of them--Whitneys, Peppers and my boy--as fine as they +are made. And whoever says they're not, doesn't know a good piece of +work when it's before his eyes. Bless me!" pulling out his handkerchief +to mop his face violently, "I don't want to see any finer." + +"I hope I shall have a sight of Jasper's and Polly's faces when you tell +them what you intend to do," said Mrs. Whitney; "where are your cards, +father?" + +"Tell them? I shan't tell them at all," cried the old gentleman; "I'm +going to have a surprise, too. No one must know it but you and Mrs. +Pepper." + +"Oh!" said Mrs. Whitney. "It was very stupid in me not to understand +that. It will be all right, father; Mrs. Pepper and I will keep our +secret, you needn't fear." + +"If you can only keep HER out of the way," exclaimed Mr. King, pointing +irascibly in the direction of Mrs. Chatterton's apartments, "all will be +well. But I doubt if you can; her meddlesome ears and tongue will be at +work as usual," he added in extreme vexation. + +"Here comes Jasper," exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, which had the satisfactory +result of bringing her father out of his irritation, into a flutter over +the concealment of the party preparations. + +"Jasper," cried Polly that evening, as they ran into the music-room to +play a duet, "we're all right about everything now, as your father says +we may invite the girls and your friends." + +"And he said when I asked him if we ought not to have cake and coffee, +'I'll attend to that,'" said Jasper, "so everything is all straight as +far as I can see, Polly." + +"The private boxes trouble me, I must confess," said Polly, drumming +absently on the keys, while Jasper spread the sheet of music on the +rack. "You know there must be two; one for dear Mr. King and one for the +boys as guests of honor. Now how shall we manage them?" + +She took her hand off suddenly from the keys and folded it over its +fellow on her knee, to study his face anxiously. + +"It's pretty hard to get them up, that's a fact," said Jasper +truthfully, "but then, you know, Polly, we've always found that when a +thing had to be done, it was done. You know the little brown house +taught us that." + +"So it did," said Polly, brightening up. "Dear little old brown house, +how could I ever forget it! Well, I suppose," with a sigh, "it will come +to us as an inspiration when it's time to fix them." + +"I suppose so too," said Mrs. Pepper, passing the door, as usual with +her mending basket, "and when two people start to play a duet, I think +they much better put their minds on that, and not waste precious time on +all sorts of questions that will take care of themselves when the time +comes." + +"You are right, Mrs. Pepper," cried Jasper with a laugh, and seating +himself before the piano. "Come, Polly!" + +"Mamsie is always right, isn't she, Jasper?" cried Polly with pride, +putting her hands down for the first chords. + +"Indeed she is," responded the boy heartily. "Here now, Polly, remember, +you slipped up a bit on that first bar. Now!" + +The twenty-first of December came all too soon for Polly and Jasper, +whose school duties had engrossed them till two days before, but after +hard work getting up the stage properties, and the many rehearsals, +everything was at last pronounced ready, the drawing-room and music-room +locked, the keys given to Mrs. Whitney who promised faithfully to see +that no one peeped in who should not, and Polly hurried into her hat and +jacket, to go to the station with Jasper to meet the boys. + +Thomas drove furiously, as they were a bit late, and they arrived only a +minute before the train puffed in. + +"Here they are!" cried Polly, and "Here they are!" cried Jasper, +together, in great excitement, on the platform. + +"Halloo, Polly!" cried Joel, prancing out of the car first, and "How +d'ye do, Polly?" as they all hurried after. "Halloo, Jasper!" + +"Oh, Polly! it's good to see you!" This from Davie, not ashamed to set a +kiss on her red lips. + +Van and Percy looked as if they wanted to, but contented themselves with +wringing her hand nearly off, while Joel declared he would look after +the luggage. + +"No, I will," cried Van, dropping Polly's hand. + +"You forget," said Percy quietly, "I hold the checks, I'll attend to it +myself." He unclosed his brown traveling glove, and Van, at sight of +them, turned back. + +"Go along, do, then," he cried; "I don't want to, I'm sure; I'd much +rather stay with Polly. How d'ye do, Thomas?" he called carelessly to +the coachman on his box, who was continually touching his hat and +indulging in broad smiles of content. + +Polly was tiptoeing in very delight, holding Davie's hand closely while +her eyes roved from one to the other of the boys, and her tongue ran +fast indeed. A group of girls, who had also come down to the station to +meet friends, stopped a bit as they came laughing and chatting by. + +"How d'ye, boys?" they said carelessly to the three home-comers. "Oh, +Polly! won't it be entrancing to-night?" cried one of them, seizing her +arm as she spoke. + +"Hush!" said Polly, as she tried to stop her. + +"May I bring Elsie Fay? she's come on the train to stay over Christmas +with her aunt. May I, Polly?" begged another girl eagerly. + +"Yes, yes," said Polly in a paroxysm of fear lest Joel, who was crowding +up between them, should catch a word; "do be still," she whispered. +"Bring anybody; only stop, Alexia." + +"He won't hear," said Alexia carelessly; "that boy doesn't mind our +talking; his head's full of skating and coasting." + +"You're going to have something to-night that you don't want me to know +about," declared Joel, his chubby face set defiantly, and crowding +closer; "so there; now I'm going to find out what it is." + +"If we don't want you to know, you ought not to try to find out, Joel +Pepper," cried Alexia. "And you shan't, either." + +"There, now you see," cried Polly, unable to keep still, while her face +grew red too. "O dear! what shall we do?" + +"You are--you are," cried Joel, capering up and down the platform, his +black eyes shining with delight. "Now I know for certain, and it's at +our house, too, for you asked Polly if you might bring some other girl, +Elsie somebody or other, so! Oh! I'll soon know." + +"Joel," exclaimed Jasper suddenly, clapping him on the shoulder, "I'm +going round to the gymnasium; want to go with me?" + +Joel stopped his capering at once, this new idea thrusting out the old +one. + +"Don't I, though!" he cried, with a nod at Polly and her friends. "But +I'll find out when I do get home," the nod declared plainly. + +But Jasper also nodded. He said, "He won't get home till late; depend on +me." And then "Come on, Joe," he cried; "I'm going to walk," and they +were off. + +Alexia pinched Polly's gray woolen jacket sleeve convulsively. "What an +escape," she breathed. + +"Here comes Percy," cried Polly nervously, and she broke away from her +and the other girls, and ran to meet him, and the two boys following. + +"Where's Jasper?" asked Percy, rendered quite important in air and step, +from his encounter with the baggage officials. + +"Oh! he isn't going home with us," said Polly. "Come, do let us get in," +and she scampered off to the carriage and climbed within. + +"That's funny," said Percy, jumping in after. + +Van opened his lips to tell where Jasper had gone, but remembering +Percy's delight in such an expedition, he closed them quickly, and added +himself to the company in the carriage. Davie followed, and closed the +door quickly. + +"Stop! where's Joel?" asked Percy. "Thomas, we've forgotten Joe," +rapping on the glass to the coachman. + +"No, we haven't; he isn't going to drive," said Polly. + +"Oh!" and Percy, thinking that Joel had stolen a march on them on his +good strong legs, now cried lustily, "Go on, Thomas; get ahead as fast +as you can," and presently he was lost in the babel of laughter and +chatter going on in the coach. + +"I've a piece of news," presently cried Van in a lull. "Davie's bringing +home a prize; first in classics, you know." + +"Oh, Davie!" screamed Polly, and she leaned over to throw her arms +around him; "Mamsie will be so glad. Davie, you can't think how glad +she'll be!" + +Davie's brown cheek glowed. "It isn't much," he said simply, "there were +so many prizes given out." + +"Well, you've taken one," cried Polly, saying the blissful over and +over. "How perfectly elegant!" + +Van drummed on the carriage window discontentedly. "I could have taken +one if I'd had the mind to." + +"Hoh-oh!" shouted Percy over in his corner. "Well, you didn't have the +mind; that's what was wanting." + +"You keep still," cried Van, flaming up, and whirling away from his +window. "You didn't take any, either. Polly, his head was under water +all the time, unless some of the boys tugged him along every day. We +hardly got him home at all." + +"No such thing," contradicted Percy flatly, his face growing red. +"Polly, he tells perfectly awful yarns. You mustn't believe him, Polly, +You won't, will you?" He leaned over appealingly toward her. + +"Oh! don't, don't," cried Polly, quite dismayed, "talk so to each +other." + +"Well, he's so hateful," cried Van, "and the airs he gives himself! I +can't stand them, Polly, you know"-- + +"And he's just as mean," cried Percy vindictively. "Oh! you can't think, +Polly. Here we are," as Thomas gave a grand flourish through the stone +gateway, and up to the steps. + +"I'll help you out," and he sprang out first. + +"No, I will," declared Van, opening the door on the other side, jumping +out and running around the carriage. "Here, Polly, take my hand, do." + +"No, I got here first," said Percy eagerly, his brown glove extended +quite beyond Van's hand. + +"I don't want any one to help me, who speaks so to his brother," said +Polly in a low voice, and with her most superb air stepping down alone, +she ran up the steps to leave them staring in each other's faces. + +Here everybody came hurrying out to the porch, and they were soon drawn +into the warm loving welcome awaiting them. + +"Oh, Felicie! I don't want that dress," said Polly as she ran into her +room after dinner, to Mrs. Whitney's French maid, "I'm going to wear my +brown cashmere." + +"Oh, Mademoiselle!" remonstrated Felicie, adjusting the ruffle in the +neck of the white nun's veiling over her arm. + +"Oh, no, Polly! I wouldn't," began Mrs. Pepper, coming in, "the white +one is better for to-night." + +"Mamsie!" cried Polly, breaking away from the mirror where she was +pulling into place the bright brown waves over her forehead, "how +lovely! you've put on your black silk; and your hair is just beautiful!" + +"Madame has ze fine hair," said Felicie, "only I wish zee would gif it +to me to prepaire." + +"Yes, I have good hair," said Mrs. Pepper, "and I'm thankful for it. No +one looks dressed up, in my opinion, with a ragged head. The finer the +gown, the worse it makes careless hair look. No, Polly, I wouldn't wear +the brown dress to-night." + +"Why, Mamsie!" exclaimed Polly in surprise, "I thought you'd say it was +just the thing when only the girls and Jappy's friends are coming to the +play. Besides, I don't want to look too dressed up; the Princess ought +to be the only one in a white gown." + +"You won't be too conspicuous," said her mother; adding slowly, "you +might wear the nun's veiling well enough as you haven't any part in the +play, Polly," and she scanned the rosy face keenly. + +"I don't want any part," cried Polly; "they all play better than I do. +Somebody must see that everything goes off well behind the scenes; +that's my place, Mamsie. Besides, you forget I am to play my sonata." + +"I don't forget," said her mother; "all the more reason you should wear +the white gown, then." + +"All right," cried Polly, merrily dashing across the room to Felicie, +"put it over my head, do. Well, I'm glad you think it is right to wear +it, Mamsie," as the soft folds fell around her. "I just love this dress. +Oh, Auntie! how perfectly exquisite!" + +Mrs. Whitney came in smilingly and put a kiss on the tall girl's cheek. +"Do I look nicely?" she asked naively, turning around under the +chandelier. + +"Nicely?" exclaimed Polly, lifting her hands, "why you are fresh from +fairyland. You are so good to put on that lovely blue moire and your +diamond cross, just for the boys and girls." + +"I am glad you like it," said Mrs. Whitney hastily. "Now, Polly, don't +you worry about anything; I'll see that the last things are done." + +"Well, I am worrying," confessed Polly, quite in a tremble; "I must see +to one corner of the private box for the boys. You know the last India +shawl you lent me wasn't pinned up straight and I couldn't fix it, for +Van wanted me just then, and I couldn't get away without his suspecting +something. Oh, Auntie! if you would see to that." + +"I will," said Mrs. Whitney, not daring to look at Mrs. Pepper, "and to +all the other things; don't give a thought to them, Polly." + +"How good you are," cried Polly with a sigh of relief. "Oh, Auntie! we +couldn't do anything without you." + +"And you don't need to go into the drawing-room at all," said Mrs. +Whitney, going to the door. "Just keep behind the scenes, and get your +actors and Phronsie ready, and your mother and I will receive your +friends. Come, Mrs. Pepper." + +"That is splendid," cried Polly, left behind with the maid, "now I can +get ready without flying into a flurry, Felicie; and then for Phronsie +and the rest!" + +"There is a dreadful commotion in there among the audience," said +Jasper, out in the green room; "I imagine every one who had an 'invite,' +has come. But I don't see how they can make such a noise." + +"Oh! a few girls and boys make just about as much confusion as a good +many," observed Polly. "Jasper, wouldn't you like to see Joel's eyes +when Aunt Whitney leads him into the private box?" she allowed herself +time to exclaim. "Yes," laughed Jasper, pulling out his watch from +beneath his dragon-skin; "well, we have only five minutes more, Polly. +We must have the curtain up sharp." + +"O dear, dear!" cried Polly, flying here and there to bestow last +touches on the different members of her cast. "Now, Clare, you must +remember not to give such a shriek when you go on, mustn't he, Jappy? +Just a dull, sullen roar, your part is." + +"Well, I'm nearly dead under here," cried Clare, glaring beneath his +dragon face. "I'll shriek, or roar, just as I like, so!" + +"Very well," said Polly, "I don't know but it's as well, after all, that +you are cross; you'll be more effective," she added coolly. "Let me +see--oh! the door of the cave wants a bit more of gray moss; it looks thin +where it hangs over. You get it, will you, Hannah?" to one of the maids +who was helping. + +"And just one thing more," scanning hastily the stage setting, "another +Chinese lantern is needed right here," going toward the front of the +stage, "and that green bush is tumbling over; do set it straight, +somebody; there now, I believe everything is all ready. Now let us peep +out of the curtain, and get one good look at the audience. Come, +Phronsie, here's a fine place; come, boys!" + +The different members of the cast now applied their eyes to as many +cracks in the curtain as could be hastily managed. + +There was a breathing space. + +"What, what?" cried Polly, gazing into the sea of faces, and the dragons +nearly knocked the Princess over as Mr. King gave the signal for the +band stationed in the wide hall, to send out their merriest strains. + + + + +V + +AFTER THE PLAY + + +It was all over. Phronsie had been swept off, a vision of loveliness, to +the cave; the dragons had roared their loudest, and the gallant knight +had covered himself with glory in the brilliant rescue of the Princess; +the little page had won the hearts of all the ladies; Mr. King had +applauded himself hoarse, especially during the delivery of the prologue, +when "I cry you mercy, sirs, and ladies fair," rang out; the musical +efforts of Polly and Jasper in the "Wait" between the two acts were over, +and the crowded house, in every way possible, had expressed itself +delighted with all things from beginning to end. + +"Phronsie, Phronsie, they're calling you," whispered Polly excitedly, +out in the green room. + +"Come, Princess." The head dragon held out his hand. "Hurry dear! See +the flowers!" + +"They can't be for me," said Phronsie, standing quite still; "Polly has +done all the work; they're hers." + +"Nonsense, child!" cried Polly, giving her a gentle push forward. "Go +on, and take them." + +"Polly, you come too," begged Phronsie, refusing to stir, and holding +her by the gown. + +"I can't, Phronsie," cried Polly in distress; "don't you see they +haven't called me. Go on, child, if you love me," she implored. + +Phronsie, not being able to resist this, dropped Polly's gown and +floated before the footlights. + +"Thank you," she said, bowing gravely to the sea of faces, as her hands +were filled with roses, "but I shall give these to Polly, because we +couldn't any of us have done it without her." And so she brought them +back to put into dismayed Polly's lap. + +"The authors--the authors of the play!" cried a strong voice, privately +urged on by Mr. King. + +"There, now's your turn," cried Clare to Polly. "And go ahead, old +dragon," to Jasper, "make your prettiest bow." + +So the chief dragon led up blushing Polly to the front of the stage, to +hear a neat little speech from Mr. Alstyne, thanking them for the +pleasure of the evening and congratulating them on its success; and the +band played again, the camp chairs were folded up and removed, the +green-room and stage were deserted, and actors and audience mingled in a +gay, confusing throng. + +Phronsie, in her little silver and white gown and gleaming cap, began to +wander among the guests, unconscious that she had not on the red +cashmere dress she had worn all day. Groups stopped their conversation +to take her into their midst, passing her on at last as one might hand +over a precious parcel to the next waiting hands. Polly, seeing that she +was well cared for, gave herself up to the enjoyment of the evening. + +"Well, sir, how did you like it?" asked Jasper, with a small pat on +Joel's back. + +"Well enough," said Joel, "but why didn't you make more of it? You could +have crawled up on top of the cave, and slashed around there; and you +old dragons were just three muffs in the last act. I'd rather have had +Polly in the play; she's twice the go in her. + +"So would we all have preferred Polly," cried Jasper, bursting into a +laugh, "but she wouldn't act--she directed everything; she was all the +play, in fact." + +Polly meanwhile was saying to Pickering Dodge, "No, not to-night; you +must dance with one of the other girls." + +"But I don't choose to dance with anybody but you," said Pickering, +holding out his hand. "Come, Polly, you can't refuse; they're forming +the Lancers. Hurry!" + +Polly's feet twitched nervously under her white gown, and she longed +more than ever after the excitement she had passed through, to lose +herself in the witching music, and the mazy dance. She hesitated a bit, +but just then glancing across the room, "Come," she said, "I want you to +dance with Ray Simmons. You can't refuse," using his own words; and +before he was conscious how it was done, he was by Ray's side, and +asking for the pleasure of the dance. + +Polly stood quite still and saw them go away and take the last places in +the set, and a sorry little droop fell upon the curves of the laughing +mouth. She was very tired, and the elation that had possessed her over +the success of the evening was fast dropping out, now that everybody was +enjoying themselves in their own way, leaving her alone. She felt left +out in the cold; and though she fought against it, a faint feeling of +regret stole over her for what she had done. She almost wished she was +standing there by the side of Pickering Dodge, one of the bright group +on whom the eyes of the older people were all turned, as they waited for +the first figure to begin. + +"Well, Polly"--it was Mr. Alstyne who spoke, and he acted as if he had +come to stay by her side--"you've covered yourself with glory this +evening." + +"Have I, sir?" asked Polly absently, wishing there had been less of the +glory, and a little more fun. + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Alstyne, his keen eyes searching her face. +"Well, now, Polly, your dragons, although not exactly like any living +ones extant, made me think of some I saw at the Zoo, in London. Do you +want me to tell you how?" + +"Oh! if you please," cried Polly, her color coming back, and beginning +to forget the dance and the dancers. + +"Let us sit down here, then," said Mr. Alstyne, drawing her off to two +chairs in a corner, "and you shall have the tale. No pun, Polly, you +know." And he plunged into it at once. + +"Yes, Alstyne has her all right," Mr. King was saying at the further end +of the drawing-room to Mrs. Pepper; he spied the whole thing; "he'll +take care of her, you may depend." + +And two more people had seen; one was Jasper. Nevertheless his partner, +Alexia Rhys, thought it necessary to enlighten him. + +"Just think, Polly's given up her chance with the best dancer in the +room, and sent Pickering Dodge off with that horrid Ray Simmons." + +Jasper pretended not to hear. "This is our figure," he said hastily, and +they whirled off, finished it, and were back again. + +"Isn't she a goose?" as he fanned her, and tried to introduce another +subject. + +"I suppose she best pleases herself," said the boy indifferently. "Why +should any one else interfere in the matter?" + +"But some one else ought to interfere," cried Alexia, with a little +pout, provoked at his indifference; "that's just the way she does in +school all the time. Oh! I'm vexed at her, I can tell you. She's so +silly--dear me, it's our turn again." + +By the next interim she had forgotten all about Polly and whether she +was having a nice time or the stupidest one imaginable, for Joel, who +held dancing in great contempt, sauntered up. + +"Aren't you glad now that you didn't find out about the secret?" cried +Alexia radiantly. "Oh! you are such a nuisance, Joey," she added +frankly. + +"Phooh!" exclaimed Joel, "it wasn't worth finding out, that old secret. +But it's as good as girls ever get up," he finished with a supercilious +air. + +"It was a perfectly splendid play!" cried Alexia, "and much too good for +a lot of boys. Goodness, Joey, I wouldn't celebrate if you four were +coming home from school to our house. I'd have the jollification the +night before you went back." + +"I wouldn't go home if 'twas to your house," declared Joel with equal +candor. "I'd run off to sea, first." + +"Come, come, you two, stop sparring," cried Jasper, holding out his +hand; "its our turn again, Alexia. Joel, take yourself off." + +Alexia flashing Joel a bright, making-up smile, dashed off into the +figure. + +"Good-by," said Joel with a smile as cheery, for he really liked her the +best of all Polly's girl friends. + +After the dance, supper was announced, and everybody marched out to the +supper room; the dancers with their partners following. + +"Will you allow me?" Mr. Alstyne seeing the movement, got out of his +chair and offered his arm to Polly with a courtly bow. + +"Oh! don't think of me, sir," she began, blushing very hard. "Joel will +look out for me." + +"I much prefer waiting upon Miss Polly Pepper to any other lady in the +room," said Mr. Alstyne, with another bow, courtlier than the first, +"since Mrs. Alstyne is provided for. See, Polly, Mr. King is taking her +out. And your mother has her cavalier, in Mr. Cabot; and Mrs. Whitney +has already gone out with Mr. Fairfax. So if you don't accept my +services, I shall be entirely left out in the cold." He stood offering +his arm, and Polly, laughing merrily, put her hand within it. + +"It's very good of you, sir," she said simply, as they fell into step +and joined the procession. + +"I'm afraid if you had trusted to Joel's tender mercies, you would have +fared hardly," said Mr. Alstyne, laughing. "Look, Polly, over yonder in +the corner." They were just passing into the supper room, and now caught +sight of Joel chatting away to a very pretty little creature, in blue +and white, as busily and unconcernedly as if he had done that sort of +thing for years. + +"Why!" cried Polly quite aghast, "that can't be Joel. He just hates +girls, you know, Mr. Alstyne, and never goes to parties." + +"He seems to be able to endure it all very well to-night," said her +companion dryly. "Shall I get you an ice, Miss Polly?" + +"Yes, thank you," said Polly absently, not being able to take her eyes +from Joel and his friend. At last, by the force of attraction, he turned +and looked at her. But instead of showing self-consciousness, his round +eyes surveyed her coolly, while he went on talking and laughing with the +little blue-and-white thing. + +"Polly, Polly," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, hurrying up, while Jasper was +storming the supper table for her, "do look at Joel Pepper! He actually +brought in a girl to supper!" + +"I see," said Polly, gazing at the two in a fascinated way. + +"On the other hand," said Alexia, sending swift, bird-like glances +around the supper room, "there are Van and Percy moping off by +themselves as if they hadn't a friend in the world. What a pity; they +used to be so lively at parties." + +Polly wrenched her gaze away from the astonishing sight on which it had +been fixed, and following Alexia's glance, took a keen look over at the +young Whitneys. "Oh! oh! I must go to them," she cried remorsefully. +"Tell Mr. Alstyne, please, when he comes back, where I am," and without +another word she dashed back of some gaily dressed ladies just entering +the supper room, and was out of the door. + +"If I ever did!" cried Alexia irritably to herself, "see anything so +queer! Now she thinks she must race after those boys. I wish I'd kept +still. Jasper, she's just as funny as ever," as he came up with a plate +of salad, and some oysters. "Who?" said the boy; "is this right, +Alexia?" offering the plate. + +"Why, Polly," said Alexia; "yes, that's lovely," with a comforted glance +at the plate and its contents. "Oh! she's gone off, Mr. Alstyne," to +that gentleman, approaching with Polly's ice. "You can't expect her to +stay for the goodies," beginning to nibble at her own. + +"Where is she?" cried Mr. Alstyne, laughing, and sweeping the room with +his brown eyes. "Oh! I see," his glance lighting on the Whitney boys' +corner. + +"Yes, she told me to tell you," said Alexia, between her mouthfuls of +salad and oyster, "where she is," as he started. + +"Oh, Percy and Van!" Polly was whispering hurriedly, "I'm sorry I hurt +your feelings, only it was so very dreadful, you know, to hear you go on +so to each other." + +"We didn't mean anything," said Percy, pushing one foot back and forth +in an embarrassed way, and looking as if he did not know what to do with +his hands, which confused him more than anything else, as he had been +quite sure of them on all previous occasions. + +Van thrust his into his pockets, and seemed on the point of whistling, +but remembering where he was, took his lips speedily out of their +curves, and looked the other way. + +Just then Mr. Alstyne came up. + +"Oh!" cried Polly suddenly, the color rushing over her face. "Could you, +Mr. Alstyne, give that to some one else? Percy and Van are going to wait +upon me." + +"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Alstyne in a flash, "nothing easier;" and he +disappeared as suddenly as he came. + +"Now, boys," said Polly, turning back to them and whispering busily, "I +know you won't ever say such perfectly dreadful things to each other +again. And so I'm going to ask you both to get me something to eat, will +you?" + +"How do you know we won't?" cried Percy slowly. He was sorry enough for +the episode in the coach, yet couldn't resist the temptation to show he +was not to be driven. + +"Because I shall then have nothing whatever to eat," said Polly merrily, +"for of course I can't take a bit from anybody else after refusing Mr. +Alstyne's kindness. Don't you see? Oh, Percy! you wouldn't quite do +that?" + +Van laughed. "She's got us, Percy," he said, "quite fast. You know you +won't fight, and I won't again; we both said so a little while back; so +what's the good of holding out now?" + +Percy drew himself up very slowly and decidedly. "I won't trouble you so +again, Polly," holding out his hand. "Now would you like oysters?" all +in the same breath. + +"And here's mine," cried Van, extending his brown one. "Can't I bring +you some salad?" + +"Yes, yes," cried Polly gaily, and she released their hands after a +cordial grasp. "You may bring me everything straight through, boys," as +they rushed off, heads erect, to the crowded supper-table. + +"You've had a good time?" asked Mrs. Pepper slowly, with a keen glance +into the flushed face and sparkling eyes, as they turned up the gas in +Polly's bedroom. "Dear me! it is half-past eleven." + +"Splendid," said Polly, shaking herself free from the white gown and +beginning to braid her hair for the night. "Percy and Van were perfectly +lovely, and Mr. Alstyne was so good to me. And oh! Mamsie, isn't dear +Mr. King just the dearest dear, to give all this to the boys? We haven't +thanked him half enough." + +"He is indeed," said Mrs. Pepper heartily. "Why, where is Phronsie?" +looking around the room. + +"She was right back of you," said Polly. "She wanted to take off her +things herself. Did you ever see such a sweet"--she began, but Mrs. +Pepper did not stop to hear, hurrying out to the adjoining room, shared +by the mother and her baby. + +"She isn't here," Polly heard her say in bewildered tones. So Polly, her +long hair blown about her face, ran in, brush in hand. + +"Why, where"--she began laughingly. + +"She wouldn't go downstairs, I don't think," said Mrs. Pepper, peering +in all the corners, and even meditating a look under the bed. + +"No, no," cried Polly, "the lights are all turned out," investigating +all possible and impossible nooks that a mouse could creep into. "Where +can she be? Phronsie--Phronsie!" + +"Well, of course she is downstairs," declared Mrs. Pepper at last, +hurrying out of the room. + +"Take a candle, Mamsie, you'll fall," cried Polly, and throwing on her +bath wrapper, she seized the light from the mantel and hurried after +her. + +Half-way down she could hear Phronsie's gay little laugh, and catch the +words "Good-night, my dear Grandpapa," and then she came slowly out from +Mr. King's sitting-room, and softly closed the door. + +"Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, sitting down on the middle of the stairs, +the candle shaking ominously, "how could"-- + +"Hush!" said Mrs. Pepper, who had fumbled her way along the hall. "Don't +say anything. Oh, Phronsie dear, so you went down to bid Grandpapa good- +night, did you?" + +Phronsie turned a glance of gentle surprise on her mother, and then +looked up at Polly. + +"No, not exactly to bid him good-night," she said slowly. "I was afraid +he was sick; I heard him coughing, so I went down." + +"He is quite well, isn't he?" asked Mrs. Pepper. "Here, give me your +hand, child; we must get up to bed." + +"Oh, yes! he is quite really and truly all well," declared Phronsie, +breaking into another glad little laugh. "He said he never had such a +beautiful time in his life, and he is just as well as he can be. Oh, +Polly!" as she picked up her Princess gown and prepared to ascend the +stairs, "how funny you look sitting there!" + +"Funny?" said Polly grimly. "I dare say, and I feel funny too, +Phronsie." + + + + +VI + +THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE + + +They were all sitting around the library fire; Polly under the pretext of +holding Phronsie's head in her lap, was sitting on the rug beside her, +the boys on either hand; old Mr. King was marching up and down the long +room, and looking at them. The merriest of stories had been told, Polly +urging on all the school records of jolly times, and those not so +enjoyable; songs had been sung, and all sorts of nonsense aired. At last +Joel sprang up and ran over to pace by the old gentleman's side. + +"Christmas was good enough," said the boy, by way of beginning +conversation. + +"Hey?" responded the old gentleman, looking down at him, "I should think +it was. Well, and how about the wonderful play on the twenty-first? And +that was good enough, too, I dare say." + +"That was well enough," said Joel indifferently, "I don't care for such +stuff, though." + +"Tut--tut!" cried Mr. King in pretended anger, "now I won't have anything +said against that wonderful production. Not a thing, sir, do you hear?" + +Joel laughed, his chubby face twinkling all over in secret amusement. +"Well, I know something better, if you'll only let us do it, sir, than a +hundred old plays." + +"And pray what is it?" demanded Mr. King, "let's have it at once. But +the idea of surpassing the play! Oh, no, no, it can't be done, sir!" + +"It's to go and see the little brown house," said Joel, standing up on +his tiptoes to a level with the old gentleman's ear, and one eye looking +backward to see that nobody heard. + +Mr. King started, pulled his handsome moustache thoughtfully, looked at +Joel sharply, and then over at the group in the firelight. + +"They don't know anything about it," cried the boy in a whisper, "don't +tell them. It's my secret, and yours," he added generously. "Oh! if we +might only go and look at it." + +"It's winter," observed the old gentleman, and stepping to the window he +put aside the draperies, to peer out into the black evening. "Yes, it +really is winter," he added with a shiver, to the boy who was close +behind, and as if no longer in doubt about it, he added most +emphatically, "it really is winter, Joel." + +"Well, but you never saw anything like it, how magnificent winter is in +Badgertown," cried Joel in an excited whisper. "Such hills to coast +down; the snow is always crisp there, sir, not like this dirty town mud. +And the air is as dry as punk," he added artfully. "Oh! 'twould be such +a lark;" he actually clasped his hands. + +"Badgertown isn't so very far off," said Mr. King thoughtfully, "I'll +think about it and see if we can manage it." + +"Ugh-ow!" squealed Joel, utterly forgetful of his caution of secrecy, +"we can, we can; we can open the little brown house, and build great +fires there, and"--But he got no further. Into the midst of Van's +liveliest sally, came the words "little brown house," bringing all the +young people to their feet, Phronsie running to the old gentleman's +side, with, "What is it, Grandpapa? He said the little brown house." + +"Get away!" cried Joel crossly to the besiegers, each and all wildly +clamoring. "What is it? What are you talking about? It's my secret," he +cried, "and his," pointing with a dismayed finger to Mr. King. + +"Well, it isn't a secret any longer," cried Polly, flushing with +excitement. "You said 'little brown house,' we heard you just as +plainly; and you re getting up something, I know you are." "People don't +usually select a roomful of listeners, and then shout out their +secrets," said Jasper. "You are in for it now, Joe, and no mistake. Go +ahead, old fellow, and give us the rest of it." + +Joel whirled away from them all in desperation. "You might as well," +laughed the old gentleman, "the mischief is done now, and no mistake." + +So Joel, thus set upon, allowed the whole beautiful plan to be wrung +from him, by slow and torturing installments; how they all were to go to +Badgertown, open the little brown house, and stay there--here he glanced +at Mr. King--"perhaps a week," he brought out suddenly, filling the time +with all sorts of frolics, and playing they were there again, and really +and truly living in the old home. + +At last it was all out, to be received in different ways by the +listeners. + +"Oh, Joe!" cried Davie with shining eyes. "We never could come away +again if we once get there, never!" + +Polly stood quite still, a mist gathering before her glad eyes, out of +which she dimly saw the little brown house arise and beckon to her. + +Phronsie jumped up and down and clapped her hands in glee. "Oh, +Grandpapa, Grandpapa!" she screamed, "please take us to the little brown +house, please!" + +That settled it. "I do not think we need to consider it longer," said +Mr. King, glancing at Ben, whose face told what he thought, "children, +we will go--that is, if Mrs. Pepper says yes. + +"I will ask her," cried Joel with a howl, springing off. + +"Come on," cried Jasper, "let's all 'be in at the death.'" And the +library was deserted in a twinkling. + +But mother was nowhere to be found. "Upstairs, downstairs, and in the +lady's chamber," they sought her wildly. + +"Oh! I forgot," exclaimed Polly, when at last they gathered in the wide +hall, disposing themselves on the chairs and along the stairs, all tired +out. "She has gone to evening meeting with Auntie. How stupid of me not +to remember that." + +"Well, I declare!" cried a voice above them, and looking up they met the +cold blue eyes of Mrs. Chatterton regarding them over the railing. +"Cousin Horatio, do you keep a menagerie, or a well-ordered house, I beg +to inquire?" + +"A menagerie," said Mr. King coolly, leaning on the balustrade at the +foot of the stairs, and looking up at her. "All sorts of strange animals +wander in here, Cousin." + +"Hum; I understand. I'm not so dull as you think. Well, you've changed, +let me tell you, vastly, and not for the better either, in the last six +years. Who would ever suppose I see before me fastidious Horatio King!" +she exclaimed, lifting her long thin hands to show him their horror- +stricken palms. + +"I dare say, I dare say, Cousin Eunice," assented Mr. King carelessly, +"but I consider all you say as a compliment." + +"Compliment?" she repeated disdainfully, and added with a rising note of +anger, forgetting herself, "there's no fool like an old fool." + +"So I think," said Mr. King in the same tone as before. "Children, come +into my room now, and close the door." And Cousin Eunice was left to air +further opinions to her own ear. + +But when Mother Pepper and Mrs. Whitney did come home from the meeting, +oh! what a time there was. They all fell upon her, as soon as the door +opened, and the whole air was filled with "little brown house." "May +we--may we?" "A whole week." "Two days, Mamsie, do say yes," and +Phronsie's glad little chirp "Grandpapa wants to go, he does!" ending +every other exclamation. + +"What a babel," cried Mrs. Pepper, her black eyes roving over the +excited group. "Now what is it all about? Baby, you tell mother first." + +Phronsie was not too big to jump into the comfortable lap, and while her +fingers played with the bonnet strings, she laid the whole delightful +plan open, the others hanging over them in ill-suppressed excitement. + +"Well, you see, Mamsie," she began deliberately. + +"Oh! you are so slow, Phronsie," exclaimed Polly, "do hurry." + +"Let her take her own time," said Mr. King, "go on, child." + +"Dear Grandpapa," proceeded Phronsie, turning her yellow head to look at +him, her hand yet among the bonnet strings, "is going to take us all, +every single one, to see the little brown house, and just touch it once, +and be sure it's there, and peek in the doors and windows and"-- + +"No, no," roared Joel, "we're going to stay, and a week too," hopping +confidently up and down. + +"Oh, Joe! not a week," corrected Polly with glowing cheeks, "perhaps two +days; we don't know yet." + +"Three--three," begged Van, pushing his head further into the center of +the group. "Mrs. Pepper, do say you want to stay three days," he begged. + +"I haven't said I wanted to go yet," she answered with a smile. + +"Now, every one of you keep quiet," commanded Mr. King, raising his +hand, "or you'll spoil the whole thing. Phronsie shall tell her story as +she likes." + +Thereupon the rest, with the shadow of his warning that the whole might +be spoiled, fell back to a vigorous restraint once more. + +"Perhaps," cried Phronsie with shining eyes, and grasping the strings +tighter she leaned forward and pressed her red lips on the mother's +mouth, "we'll go in and stay. Oh, Mamsie!" + +That "Oh, Mamsie!" carried the day, and every one hanging on the +conversation knew as soon as they heard it that a victory had been won. + +"It's no use to contend against the Fates," said Mrs. Whitney, laughing, +"Mrs. Pepper, you and I know that." + +"That's so," cried old Mr. King, "and whoever finds it out early in +life, is the lucky one. Now, children, off with you and talk it over," +he cried, dismissing them as if they were all below their teens. "I want +to talk with Mrs. Pepper now." + +And in two days they were ready to go. Mrs. Chatterton with nose high in +the air, and plentiful expressions of disgust at such a mid-winter +expedition, taking herself off to make a visit of corresponding length +to some distant relatives. + +"I hope and pray this may not get into a society paper," she cried at +the last, as she was seated in the carriage, "but of course it will; +outre things always do. And we shall be disgraced for life. One comfort +remains to me, I am not in it." + +Mr. King, holding the carriage door, laughed long and loudly. "No, +Cousin Eunice," he said, "you are not in it. Take comfort in that +thought. Good-by," and the carriage rolled off. + +Mother Pepper and the five little Peppers were going back to the little +brown house. "Really and truly we are," as Phronsie kept saying over and +over again with every revolution of the car-wheels, in a crooning +fashion, and making it impossible for Mr. King to shiver in apprehension +at the step he was taking. Were not two cases of blankets and household +comforts safely packed away in the luggage car? "It's not such a +dreadful risk," said the old gentleman gruffly to himself, "it's quite a +common occurrence nowadays to take a winter outing in the country. We're +all right," and he re-enforced himself further by frequent glances at +Mrs. Pepper's black bonnet, two seats off. + +It was to be a three-days' frolic, after all. Not that the whole party +were to stay in the little brown house. O dear, no! how could they? It +was only big enough for the Peppers. So Mrs. Whitney and her three boys, +with Mr. King, and Jasper, who concealed many disappointed feelings, +planned to settle down in the old hotel at Hingham. + +And before anybody imagined they could reach there so soon, there they +were at Badgertown Center, to find Mr. Tisbett waiting there on his +stage-box as if he had not stirred from it for five years. + +"Sho, now!" he called out from his elevated position to Mrs. Pepper, as +she stepped down from the car, "it's good to see you, though. Land! how +many of ye be there? And is that Phronsie? Sho, now!" + +"Did you get my letter?" exclaimed Mother Pepper to Mrs. Henderson, who +was pressing up to grasp her hand, and preparing to fall on the young +folks separately. The parson stood just back, biding his time with a +smile. + +"Is it possible?" he exclaimed; "are these tall boys and girls the five +little Peppers? It can't be, Mrs. Pepper," as at last he had her hand. +"You are imposing on us." + +And then the village people who had held back until their pastor and his +wife paid their respects, rushed up and claimed their rights, and it was +high holiday indeed for Badgertown. + +"My goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King at a little remove and viewing the +scene with great disfavor, "this is worse than the danger of taking +cold. Have they no sense, to carry on like this?" + +"They're so glad to see the Peppers again, father," said Mrs. Whitney +with bright eyes. "You took them away from all these good people, you +know; it's but fair to give them up for one day." + +The old gentleman fumed and fretted, however, in a subdued fashion; at +last wisely turning his back, he began to stalk down the platform, under +pretense of examining the landscape. + +"Your friends will stay with us," Mrs. Henderson was saying in a gently +decisive manner, "the old parsonage is big enough," she added with a +laugh. + +"Oh! you are so good and thoughtful, dear Mrs. Henderson," cried Mrs. +Pepper with delight at the thought of the homelike warmth of the +parsonage life awaiting the old gentleman, for whom she was dreading the +dreary hotel. + +"I'm good to ourselves," declared the parson's wife gaily. + +Jasper gave a shout when the new arrangement was declared, as it +presently was by Percy and Van, who flung themselves after him as he was +seeing to the luggage with Ben, and his face glowed with the greatest +satisfaction. + +"That is jolly," he exclaimed, "and that's a fact! Now, Ben, we're but a +stone's throw apart. Rather different, isn't it, old fellow, from the +time when I used to race over from Hingham with Prince at my heels?" + +Dr. Fisher's little thin, wiry figure was now seen advancing upon the +central group, and everybody fell away to let him have his chance to +welcome the Peppers. + +"I couldn't get here before," he cried, his eyes glowing behind his +spectacles. "I've left a very sick patient. This is good," he took them +all in with a loving glance, but his hand held to Polly. "Now I'm going +to drive you down in my gig," he said to her at last. "Will you come?" + +"Yes, indeed," cried Polly in delight, as her mother smiled approval, +and she ran off to let him help her in. "It's only yesterday since you +took me to drive, Dr. Fisher, and you gave me my stove--is it?" And so +she rambled on, the little doctor quite charmed to hear it all. + +But Mr. Tisbett had a truly dreadful time placing his party in the old +stage, as the townsfolk, fearful that so good a chance for seeing the +Peppers would not happen during the three days' stay, insisted on +crowding up close to the ancient vehicle, and getting in everybody's +way, thereby calling forth some exclamations from Mr. King that could +not be regarded as exactly complimentary. And quite sure that he was a +frightful tyrant, they fell back with many a pitying glance at the +Pepper family whom he was endeavoring to assist into their places. + +At last it was all accomplished in some way, and Mr. Tisbett cracked his +whip, Mrs. Pepper and Phronsie leaned out of the window to bow right and +left into smiling faces, Ben and Davie did the same over their heads. + +"Good-by," sang out Joel, whom the stage driver had taken up beside him. +"Here we are, off for the little brown house. G'lang!" + + + + +VII + +OLD TIMES AGAIN + + +"Don't let me look--oh! don't let me look," cried Polly in the old gig, +and twisting around, she hid her face against the faded green cloth side. +"I ought not to see the little brown house before Mamsie and the others +do." + +"I'll turn down the lane," said the little doctor, "so"; and suiting the +action to the word, Polly could feel that they were winding down the +narrow little road over toward Grandma Bascom's. She could almost smell +the violets and anemones under the carpet of snow, and could scarcely +restrain herself from jumping out for a riotous run. + +"Don't go too far away," she cried in sudden alarm. "We must be there by +the time the stage does." And she applied her eye to the little circular +glass in the back of the gig. "Will it never come--oh! here it is, here +it is, dear Dr. Fisher." And with a quick flourish around of the old +horse, they were soon before the little brown house, and helping out the +inmates of the stage, who with more speed than grace were hurrying over +the steps. + +Joel was down before Mr. Tisbett had fairly drawn up in front of the +gate. "Hold on," roared the stage driver, "I don't want you to break +your neck with me." + +"It's really here!" cried Phronsie with wide eyes, standing quite still +on a hummock of frozen snow, with her eyes riveted on the house. "It +really is!" Polly had raced up the winding path, and over the flat stone +to drop a kiss on the little old door. + +"Oh! oh! Mamsie, do come!" she cried to Mrs. Pepper on the path. + +"Hum! I think, Jasper, you and I will let them alone for a few moments," +said Mr. King, who was still within the stage. "Here, my good fellow," +to Mr. Tisbett, "you say it's all comfortable in there for them?" + +"Yes, yes, sir," said Mr. Tisbett heartily. "Good land! Mis' Henderson +had her boys come down airly this mornin' and make the fires; and +there's a mighty sight of things to eat." The stage-driver put one foot +on the hind wheel to facilitate conversation, and smacked his lips. + +"All very well. Now you may drive us down the road a bit," said Mr. +King, withdrawing his head to the depths of the lumbering old vehicle +again. + +"Ain't goin' in?" cried Mr. Tisbett, opening his round eyes at him in +astonishment. + +"Get up and drive us on, I say," commanded the old gentleman, "and cease +your talking," which had the effect to send honest Mr. Tisbett +clambering expeditiously up to the box, where he presently revenged +himself by driving furiously over all the hard frozen ruts he could +quickly select, determined not to stop till he was obliged to. + +"Goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King within, holding to the strap at the side, +as well as to the leather band of the swinging seat in front. "What an +abominable road!" + +"The road is well enough," said Jasper, who couldn't bear to have a word +uttered against Badgertown, "it's the fellow's driving that makes it +rough. Here, can't you be a little more careful to keep the road?" he +called, thrusting his head out of the window. But he only narrowly +escaped losing his brown traveling cap for his pains, as the stage gave +a worse lurch than before, to introduce a series of creakings and +joltings hitherto unparalleled. + +"I cannot endure this much longer," said old Mr. King, growing white +around the mouth, and wishing he had strength for one-half the +exclamations he felt inwardly capable of. Outside, honest Mr. Tisbett +was taking solid comfort in the reflection that he was teaching a rich +city man that he could not approach with anything less than respect a +citizen of Badgertown. + +"Ain't I as good as he?" cried Mr. Tisbett to himself, with an extra cut +to the off horse, as he spied a sharp ragged edge of ice along the cart +track in front of him. "Now that's good; that'll shake him," he added +cheerfully. "Land! but I hain't been spoke to so since I was sassed at +school by Jim Bently, and then I licked him enough to pay twice over. +G'lang there--easy!" + +The first thing he knew, one of the glass windows was shivered to +fragments; the bits flying off along the quiet road, to fall a gleaming +shower upon the snow. + +"Whoa!" called Mr. Tisbett, to his smoking horses, and leaning over, he +cried, "What's the matter in there?" + +"The matter is," said Jasper, putting his face out, "that as I could not +possibly make you hear my calls, I chose to break the window. Have the +goodness to let my father and me at once out of this vehicle." + +Mr. Tisbett got down slowly over the wheel. "Beg your pardon," he said +awkwardly, pulling open the door, "ain't you goin' to ride back?" + +"Heavens!" cried Mr. King. He was glad to find he could ejaculate so +much as he tremblingly worked his way out to terra firma. "Nothing on +earth would tempt me to step foot inside there again." + +"Here is the money for your window," said Jasper, putting a bill into +the fur mitten, covering Mr. Tisbett's brawny right hand. "Kindly bring +our traps to the little brown house; here, father, take my arm," and he +ran after the tall figure, picking its way along the frozen road. + +"Hey--what's this?" exclaimed Mr. Tisbett, looking into the center of +his fur mitten, "five dollars! Gee--thumps! I ain't a-goin' to take it, +after shaking that old party almost to pieces." + +He stood staring at the bill in stupid perplexity till the uneasy +movements of his horses warned him that his position was not exactly the +proper one for a stage-driver who was on his box from morning till +night, so he clambered over the wheel, full of vexed thoughts, and +carefully tucked the bill under the old cushion before he took his seat. + +"Ill give it back to him, that's cert'in," he said, picking up the +reins, "and p'raps they've had enough walkin' so they'll let me pick 'em +up," which raised him out of his depression not a little. + +But the stern faces of the old gentleman and the tall boy smote him with +a chill, long before he passed them, and he drove by silently, well +knowing it would not do to broach the subject by so much as a look. + +Not daring to go near the little brown house without the occupants of +the stage who had driven down the road with him, Mr. Tisbett drew up +miserably to a convenient angle, and waited till the two came up. Then +without trusting himself to think, he sprang to the ground, and with +shame written all over his honest face, called out, "See here, you young +chap, I want to speak to you, when you've got him in the house." + +"I will see you then," said Jasper, as the two hurried on to meet the +Peppers rushing out from the little brown house, and down the small +path. + +"I've made an awful mess for 'em all, and they just come home," groaned +Mr. Tisbett; drawing his fur mitten across his eyes, and leading his +horses, he followed at a funeral pace, careful not to stop at the gate +until the door was closed, when he began furiously to unload. + +A footstep crunching the snow, broke into the noise he was making. "Hoh! +well," he exclaimed, pausing with a trunk half-off the rack, "it's a +mighty awkward thing for a man to say he's sorry, but you bet I be, as +cert'in as my name's John Tisbett." His face became so very red that +Jasper hastened to put his young shoulder under the trunk, a movement +that only added to the stage-driver's distress. + +"It don't pay to get mad, now I tell you," declared Mr. Tisbett, dumping +the trunk down on the snow, and then drawing himself to his full height; +"fust place, your pa sassed me, and"-- + +"He didn't intend to," cried Jasper eagerly, "and I'll apologize for +him, if that's what you want." He laid his strong right hand in the old +fur mitten. + +"Good land! Tain't what I want," cried honest John, but he gripped the +hand nevertheless, a fact that the boy never forgot; "I say I'm sorry I +shook up your pa." + +"His age ought to have protected him," said the boy simply. + +"Sho! that's a fact," cried Mr. Tisbett, sinking in deeper distress, +"but how is anybody to remember he's so old, when he steps so almighty +high, as if he owned all Badgertown--say!" + +"I think we shall be good friends, Mr. Tisbett," said Jasper cordially, +as he turned to wave his hand toward the little brown house; +simultaneously the door opened, and all the young Peppers and Whitneys +rushed out to help in the delightful unloading. + +It was well along in the afternoon. The dusk of the December twilight +shut down speedily, around the little brown house and its happy +occupants, but no one wanted the candles lighted till the last moment. + +"Oh, Polly!" cried Joel, who was prancing as of old over the kitchen +floor, "don't you remember that night when you said you wished you had +two hundred candles, and you'd light them all at once?" + +"I said a good many silly things in those days," said Polly +meditatively, and smoothing Phronsie's yellow hair that was lying across +her lap. + +"Some silly ones, and a good many wise ones," observed Mother Pepper, +over in her little old rocker in the west window, where she used to sit +sewing up coats and sacks for the village storekeeper. "You kept us +together many a time, Polly, when nothing else could." + +"Oh! no, I didn't, Mamsie," protested Polly, guilty of contradicting, +"you and Bessie did. I just washed dishes, and swept up, and"-- + +"Baked and brewed, and fussed and stewed," finished Joel, afraid of +being too sentimental. + +"Polly was just lovely in those days," said Davie, coming across the +room to lay a cool cheek against her rosy one. "I liked the rainy days +best when we all could stay in the house, and hear her sing and tell +stories while she was working." + +"She was cross sometimes," cried Joel, determined not to let +reminiscences become too comfortable; "she used to scold me just +awfully, I know." + +Polly broke into a merry laugh; yet she exclaimed, "You poor Joey, I +suppose I was dreadful!" + +"You didn't catch one half as bad scoldings as belonged to you," put in +Ben, thrusting another stick in the stove. "You were a bad lot, Joe, in +those days." + +"And not over good in these," cried old Mr. King, ensconced in the +snuggest corner in the seat of honor, the high-backed rocker that +comforted Phronsie after her little toe was hurt. "There, now, my boy, +how's that?" with a grim smile. + +"Do you remember when the old stove used to plague you, Polly?" cried +Joel, suddenly changing the conversation. "And how Ben's putty was +everlastingly tumbling out? Hoh--hoh!" + +"And you two boys were always stuffing up the holes for me, when Ben was +away," cried Polly, with affectionate glances at Davie and Joel. + +"I didn't so much," said Joel honestly, "Dave was always giving boot- +tops and such things." + +"Boot-tops!" repeated Mr. King in astonishment. "Bless me, I didn't know +that they had anything in common with stoves." + +"Oh! that was before we knew you," said Joel, ready in advance of any +one else with the explanation; "it wasn't this stove. Dr. Fisher gave +Polly this one after she had the measles; but it was a lumbering old +affair that was full of holes that had to be stopped up with anything we +could get. And leather was the best; and Davie saved all the old boot- +heels and tops he could find, you know." + +"Oh!" said the old gentleman, wondering if other revelations would come +to light about the early days of the Peppers. + +"Isn't Dr. Fisher lovely?" cried Polly, with sparkling eyes, "just the +same as ever. Mamsie, I ought to do something for him. + +"He is as good as gold," assented Mrs. Pepper heartily. "You've done +something, I'm sure, Polly. The medical books you bought out of your +pocket money, and sent him, pleased him more than anything you could +give him." + +"But I want to do something now," said Polly. "Oh! just think how good +he was to us." + +"May we never forget it!" exclaimed Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes. + +"But he's very unwise," said Mr. King a trifle testily, "not to take up +with my offer to establish him in the town. A man like him could easily +hold a good practice, because the fellow's got ability." + +"Oh! Dr. Fisher wouldn't leave Badgertown," cried all the Peppers in a +bunch. "And what would the poor people here do without him?" finished +Polly. + +"Well, well, never mind, he won't come to town, and that's enough," said +the old gentleman quickly. "Aside from that, he's a sensible chap, and +one quite to my liking." + +"Oh, Polly!" cried Phronsie suddenly, and lifting her head, she fastened +her brown eyes on the face above her, "wasn't Mamsie's birthday cake +good?" + +"The flowers were pretty, but the cake was heavy, don't you remember?" +said Polly, who hadn't recovered from that grief even yet. + +"I thought it was just beautiful," cried Mrs. Pepper hastily. "No one +could have baked it better in the old stove you had. I'm sure we ate it +all up, every crumb." + +"We kept it in the old cupboard," cried Joel, rushing over to the corner +to swing the door open. "And we never once peeked, Mamsie, so afraid +you'd suspect." + +"You kept staring at the cupboard door all the evening, Joe, you know +you did," cried Ben; "you were just within a hair's breadth of letting +the whole thing out ever so many times. Polly and I had to drag you +away. We were glad enough when you went to bed, I can tell you." + +"You were always sending me off to bed in those days," said Joel, taking +his head out of the cupboard to throw vindictive glances over to the +group around the stove. + +"I wish we could do so now," said Ben. + +"And those two," Joel went on, pointing to Polly and Ben, "used to go +whispering around a lot of old secrets, that they wouldn't tell us. Oh! +it was perfectly awful, wasn't it, Dave?" bestowing a small pinch on +that individual's shoulder. + +"I liked the secrets best not to know them till Polly and Ben got ready +to tell us," said David slowly; "then they were just magnificent." + +Phronsie had laid her head back in the waiting lap, and was crooning +softly to herself. + +"I want to go and see dear good Mr. Beebe," she said presently, "and +nice Mrs. Beebe, can I, Mamsie?" looking over at her. + +"To be sure," cried Mrs. Pepper, "you shall indeed, child." + +"Beebe-Beebe, and who is he, pray?" demanded Mr. King. + +"Oh! he keeps the shoe shop over in the Center," explained three or four +voices, "and Phronsie's new shoes were bought there, you know." + +"And he gave me pink and white candy-sticks," said Phronsie, "and he was +very nice; and I like him very much." + +"And Mrs. Beebe gave us doughnuts all around," communicated Joel; "I +don't know but that I liked those best. There was more to them." + +"So you always bought your new shoes of the Beebes?" asked the old +gentleman, a question that brought all the five Peppers around his chair +at once. + +"We didn't ever have new shoes that I can remember," said Joel quickly, +"except Phronsie's, and once Ben had a new pair. He had to, because he +was the oldest, you know." + +"Oh!" said Mr. King. + +"You see," said Phronsie, shaking her head gravely, while she laid one +hand on his knee, "we were very poor, Grandpapa dear. Don't you +understand?" + +"Yes, yes, child," said old Mr. King; "there, get up here," and he took +her within his arms. + +"No, no, you're not going to talk yet," seeing Percy and Van beginning +violent efforts to join in the conversation. "Let the Peppers have a +chance to talk over old times first. See how good Jasper is to wait." + +"I would much prefer to hear the Peppers talk forever," said Jasper, +smiling down on the two Whitneys, "than to have the gates opened for a +general flood. Go on, do, Polly and Ben, and the rest of you." + +"Oh! there is so much," said Polly despairingly, clasping her hands, "we +shouldn't get through if we talked ten years, should we, Ben? Mamsie," +and she rushed over to her, "can we have a baking time to-morrow, just +as we used to in the old days? Oh! do say yes." + +"Yes, do say yes," echoed Jasper, also rushing to the side of the little +rocking-chair. "You will, won't you, Mrs. Pepper?" + +"Hoh! hoh!" cried the two Whitneys derisively, "I thought you could +'hear the Peppers talk forever.' That's great, Jasper." + +"Well, when it comes to hearing a proposal for a baking frolic, my +principles are thrown to the wind," said Jasper recklessly. "Why, boys, +that's the first thing I remember about the little brown house. Do say +yes, Mrs. Pepper!" + + + + +VIII + +SOME BADGERTOWN CALLS + + +"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Grandma Bascom, opening the door and looking +in, "I never!" + +"Come in," cried Mr. King sociably. His night over at the parsonage had +been a most fortunate experiment. "I haven't slept so finely in ten +years," he confided to Mrs. Whitney as they met at breakfast at the +minister's table. So now, his face wreathed with smiles, he repeated his +invitation. "Come in, do, Mrs. Bascom; we're glad to see you." + +"I never!" said Grandma Bascom once more, for want of something better +to say, and coming close to the center of operations. + +Jasper, attired in one of Mrs. Pepper's long aprons, which was fastened +in the style of the old days, by the strings around his neck, was busily +engaged in rolling out under Polly's direction, a thin paste, expected +presently under the genial warmth of the waiting stove, to evolve into +most toothsome cakes. Ben was similarly attired, and similarly employed; +while Joel and David were in a sticky state, preparing their dough after +their own receipt, over at the corner table, their movements closely +followed by the three Whitneys. + +Phronsie, before a board laid across two chairs, was enlightening old +Mr. King who sat by her, into the mysteries of baking day. + +"Do bake a gingerbread boy," he begged. "I never had anything half so +good as the one you sent over to Hingham." + +"You were my poor sick man then," observed Phronsie, with slow, even +pats on her bit of dough. "Please, the rolling-pin now, Grandpapa dear." + +"To be sure," cried the old gentleman; "here, Jappy, my boy, be so good +as to hand us over that article." + +"And you see," continued Phronsie, receiving the rolling-pin, and making +the deftest of passes with it over the soft mass, "I couldn't send you +anything better, though I wanted to, Grandpapa dear." + +"Better?" cried Mr. King. "I should think not; you couldn't have made me +anything that pleased me more, had you tried a thousand times." + +Phronsie never tired of hearing this, and now humming a soft note of +thanks, proceeded with her task, declaring that she would make the best +gingerbread boy that could possibly be achieved. + +Grandma Bascom was still reiterating "I never," and going slowly from +one group to another to inspect operations. When she came to Phronsie, +she stopped short, raising her hands in surprise. "Seems as ef 'twas +only yesterday when the Peppers went away, though land knows I've missed +'em all most dretfully, 'an there sets that blessed child baking, as big +as any of 'em. I never!" + +"Have you any more raisins to give us, Grandma?" shouted Joel across the +kitchen. "They were terribly hard," he added in his natural voice; +"almost broke our teeth." + +"Hey?" called Grandma back again. + +"Raisins, Grandma, or peppermints," cried Joel. + +"Oh, Joe, for shame!" called Ben. + +"I'm going to have the fun of going after them," declared Joel, throwing +down his dough-pat, and wiping his sticky fingers on his apron; "just +like old times--so there!" + +"I'll go over and get 'em," said Grandma; "you come along with me," +looking admiringly up at the tall boy; so the two, Joel laughing and +hopping by her side as if he were five years younger, disappeared, well- +pleased with each other. + +"Now I shall take his dough," declared Dick, rushing around the end of +the table to Joel's deserted place. + +"No such thing," declared Van, flying out of his chair. "Leave your +hands off, youngster! that's to be mine." + +Polly looked up from the little cookies she was cutting with the top of +a tin baking powder box and their eyes met. + +"I didn't promise not to have it out with Dicky," said Van stoutly. +"He's a perfect plague, and always under foot. I never thought of such a +thing as not making him stand around, Polly." + +But the brown eyes did not return to their task, as Polly mechanically +stamped another cooky. + +"I only promised not to have a bout with Percy," Van proceeded +uncomfortably. And in the same breath, "Go ahead, If you want it, Dicky, +I don't care." + +"I do want it," declared Dick, clambering into Van's chair, while Van +returned to his own, "and I'm going to have it too. I guess you think +you'd better give it up now, sir; I'm getting so big." + +"Softly there, Dicky," said Mrs. Whitney, over in the window-seat with +her fancy work; "if Van gives up, you should thank him; I think he is +very good to do it." And the bigger boy's heart warmed with the radiant +smile she sent him. + +Dick gave several vicious thrusts to his dough, and looked up at last to +say very much against his will, "Thank you," and adding brightly, "but +you know I'm getting big, sir, and you'd better give up." + +"All right," said Van, with that smile in his heart feeling equal to +anything. + +"Now," cried Jasper, with a flourish of his baking apron, "mine are +ready. Here goes!" and he opened the oven door and pushed in a pan of +biscuit. + +"Jappy's always ahead in everything," grumbled Percy, laboring away at +his dough. "How in the world do you make the thing roll out straight? +Mine humps up in the middle." + +"Put some more flour on the board," said Polly, running over to him. +"There, now see, Percy, if that doesn't roll smooth." "It does with +you," said Percy, taking the rolling-pin again, to send it violently +over the long-suffering dough, "and--I declare, it's going to do with +me," he cried, in delight at the large flat cake staring up at him from +the board. "Now, says I, I'll beat you, Jappy!" And presently the whole +kitchen resounded with a merry din, as the several cakes and biscuits +were declared almost ready for their respective pans. + +"But, I can tell you, this gingerbread boy is going in next," declared +Mr. King from Phronsie's baking-board. "It's almost done, isn't it, +child?" + +"Not quite, Grandpapa," said Phronsie; "this eye won't stay in just like +the other. It doesn't look the same way, don't you see?" pointing to the +currant that certainly showed no inclination to do its duty, as any +well-bred eye should. "Wait just a moment, please; I'll pull it out and +stick it in again." + +"Take another," advised the old gentleman, fumbling over the little heap +of currants on the saucer. "There, here's a good round one, and very +expressive, too, Phronsie." + +"That's lovely," hummed Phronsie, accepting the new eye with very sticky +fingers. "Now, he's all ready," as she set it in its place, and took the +boy up tenderly. "Give me a pan, do, Polly." + +"Did you cut that out?" cried Dick, turning around in his chair, and +regarding her enviously, "all alone by yourself? Didn't Grandpapa help +you just one teeny bit to make the legs and the hands?" + +"No; she made it all herself," said the old gentleman, with justifiable +pride. "There, Phronsie, here's your pan," as Polly set it down before +her with a "You precious dear, that's perfectly elegant!" + +Phronsie placed the boy within the pan, and gave it many a loving pat. +"Grandpapa sat here, and looked at it, and smiled," she said, turning +her eyes gravely on Dick, "and that helped ever so much. I couldn't ever +have made it so nice alone. Good-by; now bake like a good boy. Let me +put it in the oven all by myself, do, Polly," she begged. + +So Phronsie, the old gentleman escorting her in mortal dread that she +would be burned, safely tucked her long pan into the warmest corner, +shut the door, and gravely consulted the clock. "If I look at it in +twenty-one minutes, I think it will be done," she said, "quite brown." + +In twenty-one minutes the whole kitchen was as far removed from being +the scene of a baking exploit as was possible. Everything was cleared +away, and set up primly in its place, leaving only a row of fine little +biscuits and cookies, with Phronsie's gingerbread boy in the midst, to +tell the tale of what had been going on. Outside there was a great +commotion. + +Deacon Brown's old wagon stood at the gate, for the Peppers and their +friends; and, oh! joy, not the old horse between the shafts, but a newer +and much livelier beast. And on the straw laid in the bottom of the +wagon, the seats being removed, disported all the merry group, Mr. King +alone having the dignity of a chair. + +Deacon Brown, delighted with his scheme of bringing the wagon over as a +surprise for the Peppers to take a drive in, was on the side of the +narrow foot-path, chuckling and rubbing his hands together. "You won't +have to drive so easy as you used to, Ben," he called out, "this +fellow's chirk; give him his head. Sho! what you goin' that way for?" as +Ben turned off down the lane. + +"To Grandma Bascom's," shouted two or three voices. + +"Joel's over there," sang out Polly. + +"We couldn't go without him, you know," chirped Phronsie, poking a +distressed little face up from the straw heap. + +"'Twould serve him just right if we did," said Van. "He's a great chap +to stay over there like this." + +"No--no," cried Dick in terror, "don't go without Joel; I'd rather have +him than any of you," he added, not over politely. + +Phronsie began to cry piteously at the mere thought of Joel's being left +behind. + +"He wanted to see Mr. Beebe," she managed to say, "and dear Mrs. Beebe. +Oh! don't go without him." So Mr. King made them hand her up to him, and +at the risk of their both rolling out, he held her in his lap until the +wagon, stopping at the door of Grandma Bascom's cottage, brought Joel +bounding out with a whoop. + +"Jolly! where'd you get that, and where are you going?" all in one +breath, as he swung himself up behind. + +"Deacon Brown brought it over just now," cried Polly. + +"As a surprise," furnished Percy. "Isn't he a fine old chap? Here's for +the very jolliest go!" + +"We're going to see dear Mr. Beebe, and dear Mrs. Beebe," announced +Phronsie, smiling through her tears, and leaning out of the old +gentleman's lap to nod at him. + +"Hurrah!" screamed Joel. "Good-by, Grandma," to the old lady, whose cap- +frills were framed in the small window. "I've had a fine time in there," +he condescended to say, but nothing further as to the details could they +extract from him; and so at last they gave it up, and lent their +attention to the various things to be seen as the wagon spun along. And +so over and through the town, and to the very door of the little shoe- +shop, and there, to be sure, was Mr. Beebe the same as ever, to welcome +them; and Joel found to his immense satisfaction that the stone pot was +as full of sugary doughnuts as in the old days; and Phronsie had her +pink and white sticks, and Mrs. Beebe "Oh-ed" and "Ah-ed" over them all, +and couldn't bear to let them go when at last it was time to say "good- +by." And at last they all climbed into the old wagon, and were off again +on their round of visits. + +It was not till the gray dusk of the winter afternoon settled down +unmistakably, so that no one could beg to stay out longer, that they +turned Deacon Brown's horse toward the little brown house. + +"It's going to snow to-morrow, I think," observed Jasper, squinting up +at the leaden sky, "isn't it, father?" + +"Whoop!" exclaimed Joel, "then we will have sport, I tell you!" + +"It certainly looks like it," said old Mr. King, wrapping his fur-lined +coat closer. "Phronsie, are you sure you are warm enough?" + +"Yes, Grandpapa dear," she answered, curling up deeper in the straw at +his feet. + +"Do you remember how you would carry the red-topped shoes home with you, +Phronsie?" cried Polly, and then away they rushed again into "Oh, don't +you remember this, and you haven't forgotten that?" Jasper as wildly +reminiscent now as the others, for hadn't he almost as good as lived at +the little brown house, pray tell? So the Whitneys looked curiously on, +without a chance to be heard in all the merry chatter; and then they +drew up at the gate of the parsonage, where they were all to have +supper. + +When Phronsie woke up in the big bed by the side of her mother the next +morning, Polly was standing over her, and looking down into her face. + +"Oh, Phronsie!" she exclaimed in great glee, "the ground is all covered +with snow!" + +"O--oh!" screamed Phronsie, her brown eyes flying wide open, "do give me +my shoes and stockings, Polly, do! I'll be dressed in just one--minute," +and thereupon ensued a merry scramble as she tumbled out of the big bed, +and commenced operations, Polly running out to help Mamsie get the +breakfast. + +"Mush seems good now we don't have to eat it," cried Joel, as they all +at last sat around the board. + +"'Twas good then," said Mrs. Pepper, her black eyes roving over the +faces before her. + +"How funny," cried Percy Whitney, who had run over from the parsonage to +breakfast, "this yellow stuff is." And he took up a spoonful of it +gingerly. + +"You don't like it, Percy; don't try to eat it. I'll make you a slice of +toast," cried Polly, springing out of her chair, "in just one moment." + +"No, you mustn't," cried Dick, bounding in in time to catch the last +words. "Mamma said no one was to have anything different, if we came to +breakfast, from what the Peppers are going to eat. I like the yellow +stuff; give me some, do," and he slid into a chair and passed his plate +to Mrs. Pepper. + +"So you shall, Dicky," she said hastily. "And you will never taste +sweeter food than this," giving him a generous spoonful. + +"Grandpapa is eating ham and fried eggs over at the minister's house," +contributed Dick, after satisfying his hunger a bit. + +"Ham and fried eggs!" exclaimed Mother Pepper, aghast. "Why, he never +touches them. You must be mistaken, my boy." + +"No, I'm not," said Dick, obstinately. "The minister's wife said it was, +and she asked me if I wouldn't have some, and I said I was going over to +the Peppers to breakfast; I'd rather have some of theirs. And Grandpapa +said it was good--the ham and fried eggs was--and he took it twice; he +did, Mrs. Pepper." + +"Took it twice?" she repeated, faintly, with troubled visions of the +future. "Well, well, the mischief is done now, so there is no use in +talking about it; but I'm worried, all the same." + +"Hurry up, Percy," called Joel across the table, "and don't dawdle so. +We're going to make a double ripper, four yards long, to go down that +hill there." He laid down his spoon to point out the window at a distant +snow-covered slope. + +Percy shivered, but recalling himself in time, said "Splendid," and +addressed himself with difficulty to his mush. + +"Well, you'll never be through at that speed," declared Joel. "See I've +eaten three saucerfuls," and he handed his plate up, "And now for the +fourth, Mamsie." + +"Oh! baked potatoes," cried Ben, rolling one around in his hand before +he took off its crackling skin. "Weren't they good, though, with a +little salt. I tell you, they helped us to chop wood in the old times!" + +"I really think I shall have to try one," said Percy, who deeply to his +regret was obliged to confess that Indian meal mush had few charms for +his palate. + +"There's real milk in my mug now," cried Phronsie, with long, deep +draughts. "Polly, did I ever have anything but make-believe in the +little brown house; ever, Polly?" + +Polly was saved from answering by a stamping of snowy boots on the flat +doorstone. + +"Hurrah, there!" cried Van, rushing in, followed by Jasper. "Hoh, you +slow people in the little brown house, come on for the double ripper!" + + + + +IX + +A SUDDEN BLOW + + +"Mamsie," cried Polly, suddenly, and resting her hands on her knees as +she sat on the floor before the stove, "do you suppose there is any one +poor enough in Badgertown to need the little brown house when we lock it +up to-morrow?" "Not a soul," replied Mrs. Pepper, quickly; "no more than +there was when we first locked it up five years ago, Polly. I've been +all over that with the parson last evening; and he says there isn't a +new family in the place, and all the old ones have their homes, the same +as ever. So we can turn the key and leave it with a clear conscience." + +Polly drew a long breath of delight, and gazed long at the face of the +stove that seemed to crackle out an answering note of joy as the wood +snapped merrily; then she slowly looked around the kitchen. + +"It's so perfectly lovely, Mamsie," she broke out at length, "to see the +dear old things, and to know that they are waiting here for us to come +back whenever we want to. And to think it isn't wicked not to have them +used, because everybody has all they need; oh! it's so delicious to +think they can be left to themselves." + +She folded her hands now across her knees, and drew another long breath +of content. + +Phronsie stole out of the bedroom, and came slowly up to her mother's +side, pausing a bit on the way to look into Polly's absorbed face. + +"I don't think, Mamsie," she said quietly, "that people ought to be so +very good who've never had a little brown house; never in all their +lives." + +"Oh, yes, they had, child," said Mrs. Pepper briskly; "places don't make +any difference. It's people's duty to be good wherever they are." + +But Phronsie's face expressed great incredulity. + +"I'm always going to live here when I am a big, grown-up woman," she +declared, slowly gazing around the kitchen, "and I shall never, never go +out of Badgertown." + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, turning around in dismay, "why, you +couldn't do that. Just think, child, whatever in the world would +Grandpapa do, or any of us, pray tell?" + +"Grandpapa would come here," declared Phronsie decidedly, and shaking +her yellow head to enforce her statement. "Of course Grandpapa would +come here, Polly. We couldn't live without him." + +"That's it," said Polly, with a corresponding shake of her brown head, +"of course we couldn't live without Grandpapa; and just as 'of course' +he couldn't leave his own dear home. He never would be happy, Phronsie, +to do that." + +Phronsie took a step or two into the sunshine lying on the middle of the +old kitchen floor. "Then I'd rather not come, Polly," she said. But she +sighed and Polly was just about saying, "We'll run down now and then +perhaps, Phronsie, as we have done now," when the door was thrown open +suddenly, and Joel burst in, his face as white as a sheet, and working +fearfully. + +"Oh, Polly! you must tell Mrs. Whitney--I can't." + +Polly sprang to her feet; Mrs. Pepper, who had just stepped into the +pantry, was saying, "I think, Polly, I'll make some apple dumplings, the +boys like them so much." + +"What is it, Joe?" cried Polly hoarsely, and standing quite still. +Phronsie, with wide eyes, went up and took the boy's cold hand, and +gazed into his face as he leaned against the door. + +"Dick!" groaned Joel; "oh! oh! I can't bear it," and covering his face +with one hand, he would have pulled the other from Phronsie's warm +little palm, but she held it fast. + +"Tell me at once, Joe," commanded Polly. "Hush!--mother"--but Mrs. +Pepper was already out of the pantry. + +"Joel," said Mrs. Pepper, "whatever it is, tell us immediately." + +The look in her black eyes forced him to gasp in one breath, "Dick fell +off the double ripper, and both of his legs are broken--may be not," he +added in a loud scream. + +Phronsie still held the boy's hand. He was conscious of it, and that she +uttered no word, and then he knew no more. + +"Leave him to me, Polly," said Mrs. Pepper, through drawn lips, "and +then do you run as you have never run before, to the parsonage. Oh! if +they should bring him there before the mother hears." + +Phronsie dropped the hand she held, and running on unsteady little feet +into the bedroom, came back with Polly's hood and coat. + +"Let me go," cried Polly wildly, rushing away from the detaining hand to +the door, "I don't want those things on. Let me go, Phronsie!" + +"You'll be cold," said Phronsie. With all her care, her little white +lips were quivering as she held out the things. "Please, Polly," she +said piteously. + +"The child is right; put them on," commanded Mrs. Pepper, for one +instant taking her thought from her boy; and Polly obeyed, and was gone. + +In the parsonage "best room" sat Mrs. Whitney. Her rocking-chair was +none of the easiest, being a hair-cloth affair, its cushion very much +elevated in the world just where it should have been depressed, so that +one was in constant danger of slipping off its surface; moreover, the +arms and back of the chair were covered with indescribable arrangements +made and presented by loving parishioners and demanding unceasing +attention from the occupant. But the chair was drawn up in the sunshine +pouring into the window, and Mrs. Whitney's thoughts were sunny, too; +for she smiled now and then as she drew her needle busily in and out +through the bright wools. + +"How restful it all is here, and so quaint and simple." She glanced up +now to the high-backed mantel with its wealth of daguerreotypes, and +surprising collection of dried leaves in tall china vases; and over the +walls, adorned with pine-cone framed pictures, to the center table +loaded with "Annuals," and one or two volumes of English poetry, and +then her gaze took in the little paths the winter sunshine was making +for itself along the red and green ingrain carpet. "I am so glad father +thought to bring us all. Dear father, it is making a new man of him, +this winter frolic. Why"-- + +She was looking out of the window now, and her hands fell to her lap as +Polly Pepper came running breathlessly down the village street, her hood +untied, and the coat grasped with one hand and held together across her +breast. But it was the face that terrified Mrs. Whitney, and hurrying +out of her chair, she ran out to the veranda as the girl rushed through +the gateway. + +"Polly, child," cried Mrs. Whitney, seizing her with loving arms and +drawing her on the steps--"oh! what is it, dear?" + +Polly's lips moved, but no words came. + +"Oh!" at last, "don't hate us for--bringing you to the--little--brown +house. Why did we come!" And convulsively she threw her young arms +around the kind neck. "Oh, Auntie! Dicky is hurt--but we don't know how +much--his legs, Joel says, but it may not be as bad as we think; dear +Auntie." + +Mrs. Whitney trembled so that she could scarcely stand. Around them +streamed the same winter sunshine that had been so bright a moment +since. How long ago it seemed. And out of gathering clouds in her heart +she was saying, "Polly dear, God is good. We will trust him." She did +not know her own voice, nor realize when Polly led her mercifully +within, as a farmer's wagon came slowly down the street, to stop at the +parsonage gate; nor even when Dick was brought in, white and still, +could she think of him as her boy. It was some other little figure, and +she must go and help them care for him. Her boy would come bounding in +presently, happy and ruddy, with a kiss for mamma, and a world of happy +nonsense, just as usual. It was only when Mrs. Henderson came in, and +took her hand to lead her into the next room, that it all came to her. + +"Oh, Dick!" and she sprang to the side of the sofa where he lay. "My +child--my child!" + +And then came Dr. Fisher, and the truth was known. One of Dick's legs +was broken below the knee; the other badly bruised. Only Jasper and the +mother remained in the room while the little doctor set the limb; and +after what seemed an age to the watchers, the boy came out. + +"He bore it like a Trojan," declared Jasper, wiping his forehead. "I +tell you, Dick's our hero, after this." + +"Now I should like to know how all this happened," demanded Mr. King. +The old gentleman had remained at the parsonage to get a good morning +nap while the snow frolic was in progress. And he had been awakened by +the unusual bustle below stairs in time to hear the welcome news that +Dicky was all right since Dr. Fisher was taking care of him. He now +presented himself in his dressing-gown, with his sleeping cap awry, over +a face in which anger, distress and impatience strove for the mastery. +"Speak up, my boy," to Jasper, "and tell us what you know about it." + +"Well, the first thing I knew of any danger ahead," said Jasper, "was +hearing Dick sing out 'Hold up!' I supposed the double ripper all right; +didn't you, Ben?" + +"Yes," said Ben sturdily, "and it was all right; just exactly as we used +to make them, we boys; there wasn't a weak spot anywhere in her, sir." + +"Who was steering?" demanded old Mr. King almost fiercely. + +"I was," said Van, beginning boldly enough, to let his voice die out in +a tremulous effort. + +"Humph--humph," responded Mr. King grimly. "A bad business," shaking his +head. + +"Van would"--began Percy, but his eye meeting Polly's he added, "We'd +none of us done any better, I don't believe, sir, than Van." + +Van was now choking so badly that the greatest kindness seemed to be not +to look at him. Accordingly the little company turned their eyes away, +and regarded each other instead. + +"Well, so Dick rolled off?" proceeded the old gentleman. + +"Oh! no, he didn't," said all three boys together; "he stuck fast to the +double ripper; we ran into a tree, and Dick was pitched off head-first." + +"But honestly and truly, father," said Jasper, "I do not think that it +was the fault of the steerer." + +"Indeed it was not," declared Ben stoutly; "there was an ugly little +gully that we hadn't seen under the snow. We'd been down four or five +times all right, but only missed it by a hair-breadth; this time the +ripper struck into it; I suppose Dick felt it bump, as it was on his +side, and sang out, and as quick as lightning we were against that tree. +It was as much my fault as any one's, and more, because I ought to have +known that old hill thoroughly." + +"I share the blame, Ben," broke in Jasper, "old fellow, if you pitch +into yourself, you'll have to knock me over too." + +"Come here, Vanny," said old Mr. King, holding out his hand. "Why, you +needn't be afraid, my boy," aghast at the tears that no power on earth +could keep back. "Now all leave the room, please." + +"Where's Polly?" asked Ben, on the other side of the door. + +"She's run home," said David, "I guess. She isn't here." + +"And that's where I must be too," cried Ben, bounding off. + +When Van was next seen he was with old Mr. King, and wearing all signs +of having received his full share of comfort. Phronsie, just tying on +her little hood, to go down to the parsonage to ask after Dicky, looked +out of the window to exclaim in pleased surprise, "Why, here comes dear +Grandpapa," and then she rushed out to meet him. + +"Here's my little girl," cried the old gentleman, opening his arms, when +she immediately ran into them. "Now we're all right." + +"Is Dicky all right?" asked Phronsie anxiously, as she fell into step by +his side. + +"Yes, indeed; as well as a youngster can be, who's broken his leg." + +Phronsie shivered. "But then, that's nothing," Mr. King hastened to add; +"I broke my own when I was a small shaver no bigger than Dick, and I was +none the worse for it. Boys always have some such trifling mishaps, +Phronsie." + +"Ben never broke his leg, nor Joel, nor Davie," said Phronsie. "Must +they yet, Grandpapa?" + +"O dear, no," declared Mr. King hastily; "that isn't necessary. I only +meant they must have something. Now you see, Ben had the measles, you +know." + +"Yes, he did," said Phronsie, quite relieved to think that this trial +could take the place of the usual leg-breaking episode in a boy's +career. "And so did Joel, and Davie--all of them, Grandpapa dear." + +"Exactly; well, and then Ben had to work hard, and Joel and Davie too, +for that matter. So, you see, it wasn't as essential that they should +break their legs, child." + +"But Jasper and Percy and Van don't have to work hard; oh! I don't want +them to break their legs," said Phronsie, in a worried tone. "You don't +think they will, Grandpapa dear, do you? Please say they won't." + +"I don't think there is the least danger of it," said Mr. King, +"especially as I shall put an end to this double-ripper business, though +not because this upset was anybody's fault; remember that, Phronsie." +Van's head which had dropped a bit at the last words, came up proudly. +"Van, here, has acted nobly"--he put his hand on the boy's shoulder-- +"and would have saved Dicky if he could. It was a pure accident that +nobody could help except by keeping off from the abominable thing. Well, +here we are at the little brown house; and there's your mother, +Phronsie, waiting for us in the doorway." + +"Halloo!" cried Van, rushing over the flat stone, and past Mrs. Pepper, +"where's Joel? Oh--here, you old chap!" + +"Well, Mrs. Pepper," said the old gentleman, coming up to the step, +Phronsie hanging to his hand, "this looks like starting for town to- +morrow, doesn't it?" + +"Oh! what shall we do, sir?" cried Mrs. Pepper, in distress. "To think +you have come down here in the goodness of your heart, to be met with +such an accident as this. What shall we do?" she repeated. + +"Goodness of my heart," repeated Mr. King, nevertheless well pleased at +the tribute. "I've had as much pleasure out of it all as you or the +young people. I want you to realize that." + +"So does any one who does a kind act," replied Mrs. Pepper, wiping her +eyes; "well, sir, now how shall we manage about going back?" + +"That remains to be seen," said Mr. King slowly, and he took a long look +at the winter sky, and the distant landscape before he ventured more. +"It very much looks as if we all should remain for a few days, to see +how Dick is to get on, all but the four boys; they must pack off to +school to-morrow, and then probably Mrs. Whitney will stay over with the +boy till he can be moved. Dr. Fisher will do the right thing by him. Oh! +everything is all right, Mrs. Pepper." + +Mrs. Pepper sighed and led the way into the house. She knew in spite of +the reassuring words that the extreme limit of the "outing" ought to be +passed on the morrow. + + + + +X + +THE PARTY SEPARATES + + +"Good-by to the little brown house!" Joel and David, Percy and Van sang +out in doleful chorus, from the old stage coach; two of the boys on the +seat shared by John Tisbett, the other two within as companions to Mrs. +Pepper and Jasper, who were going home to start the quartette off to +school. + +"Ben and I will take good care of everything, Mamsie," said Polly for +the fiftieth time, and climbing up on the steps to tuck the traveling +shawl closer. Thereupon Phronsie climbed up too, to do the same thing. +"Don't you worry; we'll take care of things," she echoed. + +"I shan't worry," said Mrs. Pepper in a bright assured way. "Mother +knows you'll both do just right. And Phronsie'll be a good girl too," +with a long look into the bright eyes peering over the window casing of +the old coach. + +"I'll try," said Phronsie. "Good-by, Mamsie," and she tried to stand on +tiptoe to reach her mouth up. + +"Goodness me!" cried Polly, "you nearly tumbled off the steps. Throw her +a kiss, Phronsie; Mamsie'll catch it." + +"If that child wants to kiss her ma agen, she shall do it," declared Mr. +Tisbett; and throwing down the reins, he sprang to the ground, seized +Phronsie, and swung her lightly over the window edge. "There you be-- +went through just like a bird." And there she was, sure enough, in Mrs. +Pepper's lap. + +"I should like to go with you," Phronsie was whispering under Mrs. +Pepper's bonnet strings, "Mamsie, I should." + +"Oh, no, Phronsie!" Mrs. Pepper made haste to whisper back. "You must +stay with Polly. Why, what would she ever do without you? Be mother's +good girl, Phronsie; you're all coming home, except Auntie and Dick, in +a few days." + +Phronsie cast one look at Polly. "Good-by," she said slowly. "Take me +out now," holding her arms towards Mr. Tisbett. + +"Here you be!" exclaimed Mr. Tisbett merrily, reversing the process, and +setting her carefully on the ground. "Now, says I; up I goes," his foot +on the wheel to spring to the box. + +"Stay!" a peremptory hand was laid on his shaggy coat sleeve, and he +turned to face old Mr. King. + +"When I meet a man who can do such a kind thing, it is worth my while to +say that I trust no words of mine gave offense. Bless you, man!" added +the old gentleman, abruptly changing the tone of his address as well as +its form, "it's my way; that's all." + +John Tisbett had no words to offer, but remained, his foot on the wheel, +stupidly staring up at the handsome old face. + +"We shall be late for the train," called Jasper within the coach, "if +you don't start." + +"Get up, do!" cried Joel, who had seized the reins, "or I'll drive off +without you, Mr. Tisbett," which had the effect to carry honest John +briskly up to his place. When there, he took off his fur cap without a +word, and bowed to Mr. King, cracked his whip and they were off, leaving +the four on the little foot-path gazing after them, till the coach was +only a speck in the distance. + +"Mamma dear," said Dick, one afternoon three weeks later (the little +brown house had been closed a fortnight, and all the rest of the party +back in town), "when are we going home?" + +"Next week," said Mrs. Whitney brightly; "the doctor thinks if all goes +well, you can be moved from here." + +Dick leaned back in the big chintz-covered chair. "Mamma," he said, +"your cheeks aren't so pink, and not quite so round, but I think you are +a great deal nicer mamma than you were." + +"Do you, Dick?" she said, laughing. "Well, we have had a happy time +together, haven't we? The fortnight hasn't been so long for you as I +feared when the others all went away." + +"It hasn't been long at all," said Dick promptly, and burrowing deeper +into the chair-back; "it's just flown, mamma. I like Polly and Phronsie; +but I'd rather have you than any girl I know; I had really, mamma." + +"I'm very glad to hear it, Dick," said Mrs. Whitney, with another laugh. + +"And when I grow up, I'm just going to live with you forever and ever. +Do you suppose papa will be always going to Europe then?" + +"I trust not," said Mrs. Whitney fervently. "Dicky, would you like to +have a secret?" she asked suddenly. + +The boy's eyes sparkled. "Wouldn't I mamma?" he cried, springing forward +in the chair; "ugh!" + +"Take care, darling," warned his mother. "You must remember the poor +leg." + +Dick made a grimace, but otherwise took the pain pluckily. "Tell me, do, +mamma," he begged, "the secret." + +"Yes, I thought it would be a pleasant thing for you to have it to think +of, darling, while you are getting well. Dicky, papa is coming home +soon." + +"Right away?" shouted Dick so lustily that Mrs. Henderson popped her +head in the door. "Oh! beg your pardon," she said; "I thought you wanted +something." + +"Isn't it lovely," cried Mrs. Whitney, "to have a boy who is beginning +to find his lungs?" + +"Indeed it is," cried the parson's wife, laughing; "I always picked up +heart when my children were able to scream. It's good to hear you, +Dicky," as she closed the door. + +"Is he--is he--is he?" cried Dick in a spasm of excitement, "coming +right straight away, mamma?" + +"Next week," said mamma, with happy eyes, "he sails in the Servia. Next +week, Dicky, my boy, we will see papa. And here is the best part of the +secret. Listen; it has all been arranged that Mr. Duyckink shall live in +Liverpool, so that papa will not have to go across any more, but he can +stay at home with us. Oh, Dicky!" + +That "Oh, Dicky!" told volumes to the boy's heart. + +"Mamma," he said at last, "isn't it good that God didn't give boys and +girls to Mr. Duyckink? Because you see if he had, why, then Mr. Duyckink +wouldn't like to live over there." + +"Mr. Duyckink might not have felt as your father does, Dicky dear, about +having his children educated at home; and Mrs. Duyckink wants to go to +England; she hasn't any father, as I have, Dicky dear, who clings to the +old home." + +"Only I wish God had made Mr. Duyckink and Mrs. Duyckink a little +sooner," said Dick reflectively. "I mean, made them want to go to +England sooner, don't you, mamma?" + +"I suppose we ought not to wish that," said his mother with a smile, +"for perhaps we needed to be taught to be patient. Only now, Dicky, just +think, we can actually have papa live at home with us!" + +"Your cheeks are pink now," observed Dick; "just the very pink they used +to be, mamma." + +Mrs. Whitney ran to the old-fashioned looking-glass hanging in its pine- +stained frame, between the low windows, and peered in. "Do I look just +as I did when papa went away six months ago, Dicky?" she asked, +anxiously. + +"Yes," said Dick, "just like that, only a great deal nicer," he added +enthusiastically. + +His mother laughed and pulled at a bright wave on her forehead, dodging +a bit to avoid a long crack running across the looking-glass front. + +"Here's Dr. Fisher!" shouted Dick suddenly. "Now, you old fellow, you," +and shaking his small fist at his lame leg, "you've got to get well, I +tell you. I won't wait much longer, sir!" And as the doctor came in, +"I've a secret." + +"Well, then, you would better keep it," said Dr. Fisher. "Good morning," +to Mrs. Whitney. "Our young man here is getting ahead pretty fast, I +should think. How's the leg, Dicky?" sitting down by him. + +"The leg is all right," cried Dick; "I'm going to step on it," trying to +get out of the chair. + +"Dicky!" cried his mother in alarm. + +"Softly--softly now, young man," said Dr. Fisher. "I suppose you want me +to cure that leg of yours, and make it as good as the other one, don't +you?" + +"Why, of course," replied Dick; "that's what you are a doctor for." + +"Well, I won't agree to do anything of the sort," said the little doctor +coolly, "if you don't do your part. Do you know what patience means?" + +"I've been patient," exclaimed Dick, in a dudgeon, "forever and ever so +many weeks, and now papa is coming home, and I"-- + +And then he realized what he had done, and he turned quite pale, and +looked at his mother. + +Her face gave no sign, but he sank back in his chair, feeling disgraced +for life, and ready to keep quiet forever. And he was so good while Dr. +Fisher was attending to his leg that when he was through, the little +doctor turned to him approvingly: "Well, sir, I think that I can promise +that you can go home Saturday. You've improved beyond my expectation." + +But Dick didn't "hurrah," nor even smile. + +"Dicky," said Mrs. Whitney, smiling into his downcast face, "how glad we +are to hear that; just think, good Dr. Fisher says we may go next +Saturday." + +"I'm glad," mumbled Dick, in a forlorn little voice, and till after the +door closed on the retreating form of the doctor, it was all that could +be gotten out of him. Then he turned and put out both arms to his +mother. + +"I didn't mean--I didn't mean--I truly didn't mean--to tell--mamma," he +sobbed, as she clasped him closely. + +"I know you didn't, dear," she soothed him. "It has really done no harm; +papa didn't want the home people to know, as he wants to surprise them." + +"But it was a secret," said Dick, between his tears, feeling as if he +had lost a precious treasure entrusted to him. "Oh, mamma! I really +didn't mean to let it go." + +"Mamma feels quite sure of that," said Mrs. Whitney gently. "You are +right, Dicky, in feeling sorry and ashamed, because anything given to +you to keep is not your own but belongs to another; but, my boy, the +next duty is to keep back those tears--all this is hurting your leg." + +Dick struggled manfully, but still the tears rolled down his cheeks. At +last he said, raising his head, "You would much better let me have my +cry out, mamma; it's half-way, and it hurts to send it back." + +"Well, I don't think so," said Mrs. Whitney, with a laugh. "I've often +wanted to have a cry out, as you call it. But that's weak, Dicky, and +should be stopped, for the more one cries, the more one wants to." + +"You've often wanted to have a cry out?" repeated Dick, in such +amazement that every tear just getting ready to show itself immediately +rushed back again. "Why, you haven't anything to cry for, mamma." + +"Indeed I have," she declared; "often and often, I do many things that I +ought not to do"-- + +"Oh! never, never," cried Dick, clutching her around the neck, to the +detriment of her lace-trimmed wrapper. "My sweetest, dearingest mamma is +ever and always just right." + +"Indeed, Dick," said Mrs. Whitney earnestly, "the longer I live, I find +that every day I have something to be sorry for in myself. But God, you +know, is good," she whispered softly. + +Dick was silent. + +"And then when papa goes," continued Mrs. Whitney, "why, then, my boy, +it is very hard not to cry." + +Here was something that the boy could grasp; and he seized it with +avidity. + +"And you stop crying for us," he cried; "I know now why you always put +on your prettiest gown, and play games with us the evening after papa +goes. I know now." + +"Here are three letters," cried the parson, hurrying in, and tossing +them over to the boy. "And Polly Pepper has written to me, too." + +Dick screamed with delight. "Two for me; one from Ben, and one from +Grandpapa!" + +"And mine is from Phronsie," said Mrs. Whitney, seizing an epistle +carefully printed in blue crayon. + +But although there were three letters from home, none of them carried +the news of what was going on there. None of them breathed a syllable +that Cousin Eunice Chatterton was ill with a low fever, aggravated by +nervous prostration; and that Mrs. Pepper and Polly were having a pretty +hard time of it. On the contrary, every bit of news was of the cheeriest +nature; Jasper tucked on a postscript to his father's letter, in which +he gave the latest bulletin of his school life. And Polly did the same +thing to Ben's letter. Even Phronsie went into a long detail concerning +the new developments of a wonderful kitten she had left at home, to take +her visit to Badgertown, so the two recipients never missed the lack of +information in regard to the household life, from which they were shut +out. + +Only once Mrs. Whitney said thoughtfully, as she folded her letter and +slipped it back into its envelope, "They don't speak of Mrs. Chatterton. +I presume she has changed her plans, and is going to remain longer at +her nephew's." + +"I hope she'll live there always," declared Dick, looking up savagely +from Ben's letter. "What an old guy she is, mamma!" + +"Dick, Dick," said his mother reprovingly, "she is our guest, you know." + +"Not if she is at her nephew's," said Dick triumphantly, turning back to +his letter. + +Polly at this identical minute was slowly ascending the stairs, a tray +in one hand, the contents of which she was anxiously regarding on the +way. + +"I do hope it is right now," she said, and presently knocked at Mrs. +Chatterton's door. + +"Come in," said that lady's voice fretfully. And "Do close the door," +before Polly and her tray were well within. + +Polly shut the door gently, and approached the bedside. + +"I am so faint I do not know that I can take any," said Mrs. Chatterton. +Whether it was her white cashmere dressing-robe, and her delicate lace +cap that made her face against the pillows seem wan and white, Polly did +not know. But it struck her that she looked more ill than usual, and she +said earnestly, "I am so sorry I wasn't quicker." + +"There is no call for an apology from you," said Mrs. Chatterton coldly. +"Set the tray down on the table, and get a basin of water; I need to be +bathed." + +Polly stood quite still, even forgetting to deposit the tray. + +"Set the tray down, I told you," repeated Mrs. Chatterton sharply, "and +then get the basin of water." + +"I will call Hortense," said Polly quietly, placing the tray as desired. + +"Hortense has gone to the apothecary's," said Mrs. Chatterton, "and I +will not have one of the other maids; they are too insufferable." + +And indeed Polly knew that it would be small use to summon one of them, +as Martha, the most obliging, had airily tossed her head when asked to +do some little service for the sick woman that very morning, declaring, +"I will never lift another finger for that Madame Chatterton." + +"My neck aches, and my side, and my head," said Mrs. Chatterton +irritably; "why do you not do as I bid you?" + +For one long instant, Polly hesitated; then she turned to rush from the +room, a flood of angry, bitter feelings surging through her heart, more +at the insufferable tone and manner, than at what she was bidden to do. +Only turned; and she was back by the side of the bed, and looking down +into the fretful, dictatorial old face. + +"I will bathe you, Mrs. Chatterton," she said gently; "I'll bring the +water in a minute." + + + + +XI + +POOR POLLY! + + +"You are very awkward, child," observed Mrs. Chatterton to Polly on her +knees, "and abrupt. Move the sponge more slowly; there, that is better." + +Polly shifted her position from one aching knee to another, set her lips +closer together, and bent all her young energies to gentler effects. But +Mrs. Chatterton cried out irritably: + +"Have you never taken care of a sick person, pray tell, or is it all +your back-country training that makes you so heavy-handed?" + +"I helped mother take care of Phronsie when she had the measles, and Ben +and Joel," said Polly, "five years ago; we haven't been sick lately." + +"Humph!" ejaculated Mrs. Chatterton, not very elegantly. But what was +the use of a fine manner when there was nobody but a little back-country +maiden to see it? + +"I shall have to endure it till Hortense returns," she said with a sigh; +"besides, it is my duty to give you something useful to do in this +house. You should be thankful that I allow you to bathe me." + +Polly's eyes flashed, and the hand holding the sponge trembled. Nothing +but the fear of troubling Mamsie, and dear old Mr. King whose +forbearance was worn to the finest of threads, kept her at her post. + +"Now get the violet water," said Mrs. Chatterton, with an air she would +never have dared employ towards Hortense; "it is the bottle in the lower +left-hand corner of the case." + +Polly got up from her knees, and stiffly stumbled across the room to the +case of silver-mounted toilet articles: in her tumult bringing away the +upper right-hand corner vial. + +"Stupide!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton among her pillows. "Go back, and do +as I bid you, girl; the lower left-hand corner bottle!" + +Without a word Polly returned, and bringing the right vial set about its +use as directed, in a rapidly growing dismay at the evil feelings +surging through her, warning her it would not be safe to stay in the +room much longer. + +"Do you understand," presently began Mrs. Chatterton, fastening her cold +blue eyes upon her, "what your position is in this house? Everybody else +appears to be blind and idiotic to the last degree; you seem to have a +little quickness to catch an idea." + +As Polly did not answer, the question was repeated very sharply: "Do you +understand what your position is in this house?" + +"Yes," said Polly, in a low voice, and dashing out the violet water with +a reckless hand, "I do." + +"Take care," impatiently cried Mrs. Chatterton. Then she pushed her +pillow into a better position, and returned to the charge. + +"What is it, pray, since you understand it so well?" + +"I understand that I am here in this house," said Polly, quite cold and +white, "because dear Mr. King wants me to be here." + +"DEAR Mr. King!" echoed Mrs. Chatterton, in shrill disdain. "Stuff and +nonsense," and she put her head back for an unpleasant cackle; it could +hardly be called a laugh. "What an idiot the man is to have the wool +pulled over his eyes in this fashion. I'll tell you, Polly"--and she +raised herself up on her elbow, the soft lace falling away from the +white, and yet shapely arm. This member had been one of her strongest +claims to beauty, and even in her rage, Mrs. Chatterton paused a second +to glance complacently at it in its new position--"you are, when all is +said about your dear Mr. King, and your absurd assumption of equality +with refined people who frequent this house, exactly the same underbred +country girl as you were in your old brown house, goodness knows +wherever that is." + +"I'm glad I am," declared Polly. And she actually laughed merrily, while +she squared her sturdy shoulders. Nothing could be sweeter than to hear +it said she was worthy of the dear little old brown house, and didn't +disgrace Mamsie's bringing up. + +The laugh was the last feather that overthrew Mrs. Chatterton's +restraint. She was actually furious now that she, widow of Algernon +Chatterton, who was own cousin to Jasper Horatio King, should be faced +by such presumption, and her words put aside with girlish amusement. + +"And I'll tell you more," she went on, sitting quite erect now on the +bed, "your mother thinks she is doing a fine thing to get all her family +wormed in here in this style, but she'll"-- + +Polly Pepper, the girlish gladness gone from heart and face, waited for no +more. "OUR MOTHER!" she cried stormily, unable to utter another +word--"oh--oh!" Her breath came in quick, short gasps, the hot indignant +blood mounting to the brown waves of hair on her brow, while she clasped +her hands so tightly together, the pain at any other time would have made +her scream. + +Mrs. Chatterton, aghast at the effect of her words, leaned back once +more against her pillows. "Don't try to work up a scene," she endeavored +to say carelessly. But she might as well have remonstrated with the +north wind. The little country maiden had a temper as well as her own, +and all the more for its long restraint, now on breaking bounds, it +rushed at the one who had provoked it, utterly regardless that it was +the great Mrs. Algernon Chatterton. + +For two minutes, so breathlessly did Polly hurl the stinging sentences +at the figure on the bed, Cousin Eunice was obliged to let her have her +own way. Then as suddenly, the torrent ceased. Polly grew quite white. +"What have I done--oh! what have I done?" she cried, and rushed out of +the room. + +"Polly--Polly!" called Jasper's voice below. She knew he wanted her to +try a new duet he had gone down town to purchase; but how could she play +with such a storm in her heart? and, worse than all else, was the +consciousness that she had spoken to one whose gray hairs should have +made her forget the provocation received, words that now plunged her +into a hot shame to recall. + +She flew over the stairs--up, away from every one's sight, to a long, +dark lumber room, partially filled with trunks, and a few articles of +furniture, prized as heirlooms, but no longer admissible in the family +apartments. Polly closed the door behind her, and sank down in the +shadow of a packing box half filled with old pictures, in a distress +that would not even let her think. She covered her face with her hands, +too angry with herself to cry; too aghast at the mischief she had done, +to even remember the dreadful words Mrs. Chatterton had said to her. + +"For of course, now she will complain to Mamsie, and I'm really afraid +Mr. King will find it out; and it only needs a little thing to make him +send her off. He said yesterday Dr. Valentine told him there was nothing +really the matter with her--and--dear! I don't know what will +happen." + +To poor Polly, crouching there on the floor in the dim and dusty corner, +it seemed as if her wretchedness held no hope. Turn whichever way she +might, the dreadful words she had uttered rang through her heart. They +could not be unsaid; they were never to be forgotten but must always +stay and rankle there. + +"Oh--oh!" she moaned, clasping her knees with distressed little palms, +and swaying back and forth, "why didn't I remember what Mamsie has +always told us--that no insult can do us harm if only we do not say or +do anything in return. Why--why couldn't I have remembered it?" + +How long she stayed there she never knew. But at last, realizing that +every moment there was only making matters worse, she dragged herself up +from the little heap on the floor, and trying to put a bit of +cheerfulness into a face she knew must frighten Mamsie, she went slowly +out, and down the stairs. + +But no one looked long enough at her face to notice its change of +expression. Polly, the moment she turned towards the household life +again, could feel that the air was charged with some intense excitement. +Hortense met her on the lower stairs; the maid was startled out of her +usual nonchalance, and was actually in a hurry. + +"What is the matter?" cried Polly. + +"Oh! the Madame is eel," said the maid; "the doctaire says it is not a +lie dees time," and she swept past Polly. + +Polly clung to the stair-railing, her face whitening, and her gaze +fastened upon Mrs. Chatterton's door, where Hortense was now +disappearing. Inside, was a sound of voices, and that subdued stir that +gives token of a sick room. + +"I have killed her!" cried Polly's heart. For one wild moment she was +impelled to flight; anywhere, she did not care where, to shake off by +motion in the free air this paralysis of fear. But the next she started +and, rushing down the stairs and into Mr. King's room, cried out, "Oh! +dear Grandpapa, will Mrs. Chatterton die?" + +"No, no, I think not," replied the old gentleman, surprised at her +feeling. "Cousin Eunice never did show much self-control; but then, I +don't believe this piece of bad news will kill her." + +"Bad news?" gasped Polly, hanging to the table where Mr. King was +writing letters. "Oh, Grandpapa! what do you mean?" + +"Bless me! where have you been, Polly Pepper," said Mr. King, settling +his eyeglass to regard her closely, "not to hear the uproar in this +house? Yes, Mrs. Chatterton received a telegram a half-hour since that +her nephew, the only one that she was very fond of among her relatives, +was drowned at sea, and she has been perfectly prostrated by it, till +she really is quite ill." + +Polly waited to hear no more, but on the wings of the wind, flew out and +up the stairs once more. + +"Where have you been, Polly?" cried Jasper, coming out of a side passage +in time to catch a dissolving view of her flying figure. "Polly--Polly!" +and he took three steps to her one, and gained her side. + +"Oh! don't stop me," begged Polly, flying on, "don't, Jasper." + +He took a good look at her face. "Anything I can help you about?" he +asked quickly. + +She suddenly stopped, her foot on the stair above. "Oh, Jasper!" she +cried, with clasped hands, "you don't know--she may die, and I said +horribly cruel things to her." + +"Who--Mrs. Chatterton?" said the boy, opening his dark eyes; "why, you +couldn't have said cruel things to her, Polly. Don't be foolish, child." +He spoke as he would to Phronsie's terror, and smiled into her face. But +it did not reassure Polly. + +"Jasper, you don't know; you can't guess what dreadful things I said," +cried poor overwhelmed Polly, clasping her hands tightly together at the +mere thought of the words she had uttered. + +"Then she must have said dreadful things to you," said the boy. + +"She--but, oh, Jasper! that doesn't make it any better for me," said +Polly. "Don't stop me; I am going to see if they won't let me do +something for her." + +"There are ever so many people up there now," said Jasper. "Your mother, +and Hortense, and two or three maids. What in the world could you do, +Polly? Come down into the library, and tell us all about it." + +But Polly broke away from him with an "Oh! I must do something for her," +speeding on until she softly worked her way into the sick room. + +Mrs. Pepper was busy with the doctor in the further part of the room, +and Polly stood quite still for a moment, wishing she were one of the +maids, to whom a bit of active service was given. She could not longer +endure her thoughts in silence, and gently going up to her mother's +side, with a timorous glance at the bed, as she passed it, she begged, +"Mamsie, can't I do something for her?" + +Mrs. Pepper glanced up quickly. "No--yes, you can; take this +prescription down to Oakley's to be prepared." + +Polly seized the bit of paper from Dr. Valentine's hand, and hurried +out. Again she glanced fearfully at the bed, but the curtain on that +side was drawn so that only the outline of the figure could be seen. She +was soon out on the street, the movement through the fresh air bringing +back a little color to her cheek and courage to her heart. Things did +not seem quite so bad if she only might do something for the poor sick +woman that could atone for the wretched work she had done; at least it +would be some comfort if the invalid could be helped by her service. + +Thus revolving everything in her mind, Polly did not hear her name +called, nor rapid footsteps hurrying after. + +"Wait!" at last cried a voice; "O, dear me! what is the matter, Polly?" +Alexia Rhys drew herself up flushed and panting at Polly's side. + +"I'm on the way to the apothecary's," said Polly, without looking +around. + +"So I should suppose," said Alexia; "O, dear! I'm so hot and tired. Do +go a bit slower, Polly." + +"I can't," said Polly. "She's very sick, and I must get this just as +soon as I can." She waved the prescription at her, and redoubled her +speed. + +"Who?" gasped Alexia, stumbling after as best she could. + +"Mrs. Chatterton," said Polly, a lump in her throat as she uttered the +name. + +"O, dear me! that old thing," cried Alexia, her enthusiasm over the +errand gone. + +"Hush!" said Polly hoarsely; "she may die. She has had bad news." + +"What?" asked Alexia; the uncomfortable walk might be enlivened by a bit +of stray gossip; "what is it, Polly? What news?" + +"A telegram," said Polly. "Her favorite nephew was drowned at sea." + +"Oh! I didn't know she had any favorite nephew. Doesn't she fight with +everybody?" + +"Do be quiet," begged Polly. "No; that is, perhaps, other people are not +kind to her." + +"Oh!" said Alexia, in a surprised voice. "Well, I think she's perfectly +and all-through-and-through horrid, so! Don't race like this through the +streets, Polly. You'll get there soon enough." + +But Polly turned a deaf ear, and at last the prescription was handed +over the counter at Oakley's, and after what seemed an endless time to +Polly, the medicine was given to her. + +"Now as soon as you carry that thing home," observed Alexia, glancing at +the white parcel in Polly's hand, "I hope you'll come with us girls. +That's what I ran after you for." + +"What girls?" asked Polly. + +"Why, Philena and the Cornwalls; we are going to have a sleighing party +to-night, and a supper at Lilly Drexell's. Mrs. Cornwall chaperones the +thing." + +Polly was surprised to feel her heart bound. It hadn't seemed as if it +could ever be moved by any news of girlish frolics, but that its dull +ache must go on forever. + +"Oh! I can't," she cried the next moment. "I must stay at home, and help +take care of Mrs. Chatterton." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Alexia in a provoked tone; "you are not wanted +there, Polly Pepper; the idea, with that great house full of servants." + +"Well, I shall not go," declared Polly sharply; "you needn't ask me, +Alexia. I shall stay home till she gets well." + +"You little idiot!" cried Alexia, thoroughly out of temper. But as this +produced no effect on Polly, she began to wheedle and coax. "Now, Polly, +do be reasonable. You know we can't go without you; you wouldn't spoil +the whole thing; you know you wouldn't. I shall just tell the Cornwalls +that you are coming," and she turned off to the corner of the avenue. + +"Indeed you will not," called Polly after her. "Don't you dare do that, +Alexia Rhys," she said, with flashing eyes. + +"You are the most uncomfortable girl I ever saw," cried Alexia, +stopping, to come slowly back. "You spoil every bit of fun with your +absurd notions. I'm quite, quite put out with you, Polly." + +"I'm sorry," said poor Polly, fairly longing for the snow-revel, and +dismayed at disappointing the girls. + +"No, you're not," pouted Alexia, "and I shall tell them all so," and she +broke away and ran off in the opposite direction. + +Polly was met at the door by Mrs. Pepper, who grasped the packet of +medicine quickly. + +"Isn't there anything else I can do, Mamsie?" begged Polly. + +"No; sit down and rest; you're hot and tired, you've run so." + +"I'm not tired," said Polly, not daring to ask "Is she better?" + +"Well, you must be," said Mrs. Pepper, hurrying off, "going all the way +down to Oakley's." + +So Polly had nothing to do but to sit out in the hall, and listen and +watch all the movements in the sick room, every one of which but +increased her terror. At least she could bear it no longer, and as Dr. +Valentine came out, putting on his gloves, she rushed after him. + +"Oh! will she die?" she begged; "please do tell me, sir?" + +"Die? no indeed, I hope not," said Dr. Valentine. "She has had a severe +shock to her nerves and her age is against her, but she is coming around +all right, I trust. Why, Polly, I thought better things of you, my +girl." He glanced down into the distressed face with professional +disfavor. + +"I'm so glad she won't die," breathed Polly, wholly lost to his opinion +of her; and her face gleamed with something of her old brightness. + +"I didn't know you were so fond of her," observed Dr. Valentine grimly; +"indeed, to speak truthfully, I have yet to learn that anybody is fond +of her, Polly." + +"Now if you really want to help her," he continued thoughtfully, pulling +his beard, as Polly did not answer, "I can give you one or two hints +that might be of use." + +"Oh! I do, I do," cried Polly with eagerness. + +"It will be tiresome work," said Dr. Valentine, "but it will be a piece +of real charity, and perhaps, Polly, it's as well for you to begin now +as to wait till you can belong to forty charity clubs, and spend your +time going to committee meetings." And he laughed not altogether +pleasantly. How was Polly to know that Mrs. Valentine was immersed up to +her ears in a philanthropic sea with the smallest possible thought for +the doctor's home? "Now that maid," said the physician, dropping his +tone to a confidential one, "is as well as the average, but she's not +the one who is to amuse the old lady. It's that she needs more than +medicine, Polly. She actually requires diversion." + +Poor Polly stood as if turned to stone. Diversion! And she had thrown +away all chance of that. + +"She is suffering for the companionship of some bright young nature," +Dr. Valentine proceeded, attributing the dismay written all over the +girl's face to natural unwillingness to do the service. "After she gets +over this attack she needs to be read to for one thing; to be told the +news; to be made to forget herself. But of course, Polly," he said +hastily, buttoning his top coat, and opening the outer door, "it's too +much to ask of you; so think no more about it, child." + + + + +XII + +NEW WORK FOR POLLY + + +It was Saturday morning, and Polly ran upstairs with a bright face, the +morning Journal in her hand. "I'm going to stay with Mrs. Chatterton, +Hortense," she announced to that functionary in the dressing-room. + +"And a comfairte may it gif to you," said Hortense, with a vicious shake +of the silk wrapper in her hand, before hanging it in its place. "Madame +has the tres diablerie, cross as de two steeks, what you call it, dis +morning." + +Polly went softly into the room, closing the door gently after her. In +the shadow of one corner of the large apartment, sat Mrs. Chatterton +under many wrappings in the depths of an invalid's chair. Polly went up +to her side. + +"Would you like to have me read the news, Mrs. Chatterton?" she asked +gently. + +Mrs. Chatterton turned her head and looked at her. "No," she was about +to say shortly, just as she had repulsed many little offers of Polly's +for the past few days; but somehow this morning the crackling of the +fresh sheet in the girl's hand, suggestive of crisp bits of gossip, was +too much for her to hear indifferently, especially as she was in a worse +state of mind than usual over Hortense and her bad temper. + +"You may sit down and read a little, if you like," she said +ungraciously. So Polly, happy as a queen at the permission, slipped into +a convenient chair, and began at once. She happened fortunately on just +the right things for the hungry ears; a description of a large church +wedding, the day before; two or three bits about society people that +Mrs. Chatterton had lost sight of, and a few other items just as +acceptable. + +Polly read on and on, from one thing to another, not daring to look up +to see the effect, until at last everything in the way of gossip was +exhausted. + +"Is that all?" asked Mrs. Chatterton hungrily. + +Polly, hunting the columns for anything, even a murder account if it was +but in high life, turned the paper again disconsolately, obliged to +confess it was. + +"Well, do put it by, then," said Mrs. Chatterton sharply, "and not whirl +it before my face; it gives me a frightful headache." + +"I might get the Town Talk" suggested Polly, as a bright thought struck +her. "It came yesterday. I saw it on the library table." + +"So it is Saturday." Mrs. Chatterton looked up quickly. "Yes, you may, +Polly," her mouth watering for the revel she would have in its contents. + +So Polly ran over the stairs with delighted feet, and into the library, +beginning to rummage over the papers and magazines on the reading table. + +"Where is it?" she exclaimed, turning them with quick fingers. "O dear! +it was right here last evening." + +"What is it?" asked Phronsie, from the depths of a big arm-chair, and +looking up from her book. Then she saw as soon as she had asked the +question that Polly was in trouble, so she laid down her book, and slid +out of the chair. "What is it, Polly? Let me help you, do." + +"Why, the Town Talk--that hateful old society thing," said Polly, +throwing the papers to right and left. "You know, Phronsie; it has a +picture of a bottle of ink, and a big quill for a heading. O dear! do +help me, child, for she will get nervous if I am gone long." + +"Oh! I know where that is," said Phronsie deliberately, laying a cool +little hand on Polly's hot one. + +"Where?" demanded Polly feverishly. "Oh, Phronsie! where?" + +"Jack Rutherford has it." + +Polly threw down the papers, and started for the door. + +"He has gone," said Phronsie; "he went home almost an hour ago." + +Polly turned sharply at her. "What did he want Town Talk for?" + +"He said it was big, and he asked Grandpapa if he might have it, and +Grandpapa said, Yes. I don't know what he wanted it for," said Phronsie. +"And he took other newspapers, too, Polly; oh! ever so many." + +"Well, I don't care how many he took, nor what they were," cried Polly, +"only that very identical one. O dear me! Well, I'll ask Jasper." + +And rushing from the library, Phronsie following in a small panic over +Polly's distress, she knocked at the door of Jasper's den, a little room +in the wing, looking out on the east lawn. + +"Oh! I am so glad you are here," she exclaimed as "Come in!" greeted +her, and both Phronsie and she precipitated themselves with no show of +ceremony, in front of his study table. "O Jasper! could you get me a +copy of "Town Talk?" Jack Rutherford has gone off with ours." + +"Town Talk!" repeated Jasper, raising his head from his hands to stare +at her. + +"Yes; Jack has taken ours off; Grandpapa gave it to him. Can you, +Jasper? Will it break up your study much?" she poured out anxiously. + +"No--that is--never mind," said Jasper, pushing the book away and +springing from his chair. "But whatever in the world do you want that +trash for?" He turned, and looked at her curiously. + +"Mrs. Chatterton will let me read it to her; she said so," cried Polly, +clasping her hands nervously, "but if I don't get the paper soon, why, +I'm afraid she'll change her mind." + +Jasper gave a low whistle as he flung himself into his coat. +"Inestimable privilege!" he exclaimed at last, tossing on his cap. + +"Oh, Jasper! you are so good," cried Polly in a small rapture. "I'm so +sorry to have to ask you." + +"I'll go for you, Jasper," declared Phronsie; "Mamsie will let me; I +almost know she will." + +"No, no, Phronsie," said Jasper, as she was flying off; "it isn't any +place for you to go to. I shall get one at the hotel--the Allibone. +I'll be back in a trice, Polly." + +Polly went out, and sat down in one of the big oaken chairs in the hall +to seize it as it came, and Phronsie deposited herself in an opposite +chair, and watched Polly. And presently in came Jasper, waving the +desired journal. Polly, with a beaming face, grasped it and rushed off +upstairs. + +"Polly," called the boy, looking after her, "it isn't too late now for +you to go with them. Lucy Bennett met me at the corner and she said they +will take the twelve o'clock train, instead of the eleven, and she +wanted me to beg you to come." + +"No, no," tossed back Polly, rushing on, "I am quite determined to stay +at home." Then she went into Mrs. Chatterton's room, and closed the +door. But she couldn't so easily shut out the longings that would rise +in her heart for the Saturday outing that the other girls were to have. +How lovely it would be! the run out to Silvia Horne's charming house +some ten miles distant; the elegant luncheon they would have, followed +by games, and a dance in the ball-room upstairs, that Silvia's older +sisters used for their beautiful parties. Then the merry return before +dusk, of the twelve girls, all capital friends at school! Oh--oh! + +"You've been an unconscionable time," exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton in a +sharp, high key, "just to get a paper. Well, do sit down; I am quite +tired waiting for you." + +Polly sat down, and resolutely plunged into the column where the news +items promised the most plentiful yield but in between the lines ran the +doings of the girls: how they were all assembling by this time at Lucy +Bennett's; how they were hurrying off to the train, and all the other +delightful movements of the "outing" flashed before her eyes, as she +finished item after item of her dreary task. But how Mrs. Chatterton +gloated over it! + +At last Polly, feeling as if she could not endure another five minutes +of it, glanced up to see the old lady's eyes actually sparkling; her +mouth had fallen into contented curves, and the jeweled hand resting on +the chair-arm was playing with the fringe, while she leaned forward that +she might not lose a word. + +"Read that again, Polly," she said, "the list of presents exhibited at +Arabella Granger's wedding. I didn't hear any mention of the Archibalds. +It can't be that they have fallen out; and read more slowly." + +So Polly began once more the long lists of gifts that ushered in the +matrimonial happiness of Mrs. John Westover nee Miss Arabella Granger; +this time, however, stimulated by the pleasure she was giving, to find +it an endurable task. + +It seemed to Polly as if Mrs. John Westover had everything on earth +given to her that could possibly be presented at a wedding; nevertheless +the list was gone through again bravely, Polly retracing her steps two +or three times to read the items over for her listener's slow digestion. + +"The Archibalds are not mentioned, either as being there or sending a +gift, nor the Harlands, nor the Smythes, so I am very glad I didn't +remember her," said Mrs. Chatterton, drawing herself up with a relieved +sigh. "Those presents sound fine on paper, but it isn't as well as she +might have done if she had made a different match. Now something else, +Polly," and she dismissed Mrs. Westover with a careless wave of her +hand. Polly flew off into the fashion hints, and was immediately lost in +the whirl of coming toilets. No one noticed when the door opened, so of +course no one saw Mrs. Whitney standing smiling behind the old lady's +big chair. + +"Well, Polly," said a pleasant voice suddenly. + +Down went Town Talk to the floor as Polly sprang up with a glad cry, and +Mrs. Chatterton turned around nervously. + +"Oh, Auntie--Auntie!" cried Polly, convulsively clinging to her, "are +you really here, and is Dicky home?" + +"Dear child," said Mrs. Whitney, as much a girl for the moment as Polly +herself. And pressing kisses on the red lips, while she folded her +close--"Yes, Dick is at home. There, go and find him; he is in Mrs. +Pepper's room." + +"I am glad to see you so much better, Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. +Whitney, leaning over the invalid's chair to lay the tenderest of palms +on the hand resting on the chair-arm. + +"Oh, yes, Marian; I am better," said Mrs. Chatterton, looking around for +Polly, then down at the delicious Town Talk carelessly thrown on the +floor. "Will you send her back as soon as possible?" she asked with her +old imperativeness. + +"Who--Polly?" said Mrs. Whitney, following the glance. "Why, she has +gone to see Dick, you know. Now, why cannot I read a bit?" and she +picked up the paper. + +"You don't know what has been read," said Mrs. Chatterton as Mrs. +Whitney drew up a chair and sat down, running her eye in a practiced way +over the front page. "Dear me, it makes me quite nervous, Marian, to see +you prowling around all over the sheet that way." + +"Oh! I shall find something interesting quite soon, I fancy," said Mrs. +Whitney cheerfully, her heart on her boy and the jolly home-coming he was +having. "Here is the Washington news; I mean all about the receptions +and teas." + +"She has read that," said Mrs. Chatterton. + +"Now for the fashion department." Mrs. Whitney whirled the paper over +dexterously. "Do you know, Mrs. Chatterton, gray stuffs are to be worn +more than ever this spring?" + +"I don't care about that," said Mrs. Chatterton quickly, "and besides, +quite likely there'll be a complete revolution before spring really sets +in, and gray stuffs will go out. Find some description of tea gowns, +can't you? I must have one or two more." + +"And here are some wonderfully pretty caps, if they are all like the +descriptions," said Mrs. Whitney, unluckily dropping on another +paragraph. + +"Caps! who wants to hear about them?" cried Mrs. Chatterton in a +dudgeon. "I hope I'm not at the cap period yet." + +"Oh! those lovely little lace arrangements," said Mrs. Whitney hastily; +"don't you know how exquisite they are at Pinaud's?" she cried. + +"I'm sure I never noticed," said Mrs. Chatterton indifferently. +"Hortense always arranges my hair better without lace. If you can't find +what I ask you, Marian," raising her voice to a higher key, "you needn't +trouble to read at all." + +Fortunately the description of the gown worn by Lady Hartly Cavendish at +a London high tea, stood out in bold relief, as Mrs. Whitney's eyes +nervously ran over the columns again, and she seized upon it. + +But in just two moments she was interrupted. "Send that girl back again, +Marian," cried Mrs. Chatterton. "I had just got her trained so that she +suits me. It tires me to death to hear you." + +"I do not know whether Polly can come now," said Mrs. Whitney gently; +"she"-- + +"Do not know whether Polly can come!" repeated Mrs. Chatterton sharply, +and leaning forward in her chair. "Didn't I say I wanted her?" + +"You did." Marian's tone did not lose a note of its ordinary gentleness. +"But I shall ask her if she is willing to do it as a favor, Mrs. +Chatterton; you quite understand that, of course?" She, too, leaned +forward in her chair, and gazed into the cold, hard face. + +"Just like your father," cried Mrs. Chatterton, settling herself +irascibly back in the chair-depths again. "There is no hope that affairs +in this house will mend. I wash my hands of you." + +"I am so glad that you consider me like my father," said Mrs. Whitney +gleefully as a child. "We surely are united on this question." + +"May I read some more?" cried Polly, coming in softly, and trying to +calm the impetuous rush of delight as her eyes met Mrs. Whitney's. + +"Yes; I am waiting for you," said Mrs. Chatterton. "Begin where you left +off." + +Mrs. Whitney bit her pretty lips and slipped out of her chair, just +pausing a moment to lay her hand on the young shoulder as she passed, +and a world of comfort fell upon Polly, shut in once more to her dreary +task. + +"How perfectly splendid that I didn't go to Silvia Home's luncheon party +now!" cried Polly's heart over and over between the lines. "If I had, I +should have missed dear Auntie's home-coming, and Dicky's." She glanced +up with luminous eyes as she whirled the sheet. Mrs. Chatterton, +astonishing as it may seem, was actually smiling. + +"It's some comfort to hear you read," she observed with a sigh of +enjoyment, "because you enjoy it yourself. I wouldn't give a fig for +anybody to try to do it." + +Polly felt like a guilty little thing to take this quietly, and she +eased her conscience by being more glad that she was in that very room +doing that very task. And so the moments sped on. + +Outside, Dick was holding high revel as every one revolved around him, +the hero of the coasting accident, till the boy ran considerable danger +from all the attention he was receiving. But one glance and a smile from +Mrs. Whitney brought him back to himself. + +"Don't talk any more about it," he cried a trifle impatiently. "I was a +muff to stick on, when I knew we were going over. Mamma, won't you stop +them?" + +And she did. + +"Do you know, Dicky and I have a secret to tell all of you good people." +The color flew into her soft cheek, and her eyes beamed. + +"Really, Marian," said her father, whose hand had scarcely ceased +patting Dick's brown head since the boy's home-coming, "you've grown +young in Badgertown. I never saw you look so well as you do to-day." + +Mrs. Whitney laughed and tossed him a gay little smile, that carried him +back to the days when Marian King stood before him looking just so. + +"Now listen, father, and all you good people, to my secret--Dicky's and +mine; we are allowed to tell it now. Papa Whitney sailed in the Servia, +and he ought to be in to-day!" + +A shout of joy greeted her announcement. Polly, off in her prison, could +hear the merry sounds, and her happy heart echoed them. The misery of +the past week, when she had been bearing an unatoned fault, seemed to +drop away from her as she listened, and to say, "Life holds sunshine +yet." + +Then a hush dropped upon the gay uproar. She did not know that Dicky was +proclaiming "Yes, and he is never, never going back again. That is, +unless he takes mamma and me, you know." + +Mrs. Chatterton turned suddenly upon the young figure. + +"Do go!" She tossed an imperative command with her jeweled fingers. "You +have ceased to be amusing since your interest is all in the other room +with that boy." + +Polly dashed the newspaper to the floor, and rushing impulsively across +the room, threw herself, with no thought for the consequences, on her +knees at Mrs. Chatterton's chair. + +"Oh--oh!" she cried, the color flying up to the brown waves on her +temples, "don't send me off; then I shall know you never will forgive +me." + +"Get up, do!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton, in disgust; "you are crushing +my gown, and besides I hate scenes." + +But Polly held resolutely to the chair-arm, and never took her brown +eyes from the cold face. + +"I must say, Polly Pepper," cried Mrs. Chatterton with rising anger, +"you are the most disagreeable girl that I ever had the misfortune to +meet. I, for one, will not put up with your constant ebullitions of +temper. Go out of this room!" + +Polly rose slowly and drew herself up with something so new in face and +manner that the old lady instinctively put up her eyeglass and gazed +curiously through it, as one would look at a strange animal. + +"Humph!" she said slowly at last, "well, what do you want to say? Speak +out, and then go." + +"Nothing," said Polly in a low voice, but quite distinctly, "only I +shall not trouble you again, Mrs. Chatterton." And as the last words +were spoken, she was out of the room. + +"Pretty doings these!" Mr. King, by a dexterous movement, succeeded in +slipping back of the portiere folds into the little writing-room, as +Polly rushed out through the other doorway into the hall. "A fortunate +thing it was that I left Dick, to see what had become of Polly. Now, +Cousin Eunice, you move from my house!" and descending the stairs, he +called determinedly, "Polly, Polly, child!" + +Polly, off in her own room now, heard him, and for the first time in her +life, wished she need not answer. + +"Polly--Polly!" the determined call rang down the passage, causing her +to run fast with a "Yes, Grandpapa, I'm coming." + +"Now, I should just like to inquire," began Mr. King, taking her by her +two young shoulders and looking down into the flushed face, "what she +has been saying to you." "Oh, Grandpapa!" down went Polly's brown head, +"don't make me tell. Please don't, Grandpapa." + +"I shall!" declared Mr. King; "every blessed word. Now begin!" + +"She--she wanted me to go out of the room," said Polly, in a reluctant +gasp. + +"Indeed!" snorted Mr. King. "Well, she will soon go out of that room. +Indeed, I might say, out of the house." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly, in great distress, and raising the +brown eyes--he was dismayed to find them filling with tears--"don't, +don't send her away! It is all my fault; indeed it is, Grandpapa!" + +"Your fault," cried Mr. King irately; "you must not say such things, +child; that's silly; you don't know the woman." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, holding back the storm of tears to get the +words out, "I never told you--I couldn't--but I said perfectly dreadful +words to her a week ago. Oh, Grandpapa! I did, truly." + +"That's right," said the old gentleman in a pleased tone. "What were +they, pray tell? Let us know." + +"Oh, Grandpapa, don't!" begged Polly, with a shiver; "I want to forget +them." + +"If you would only follow them up with more," said Mr. King +meditatively; "when it comes to tears, she must march, you know." + +"I won't cry," said Polly, swallowing the lump in her throat, "if you +will only let her stay." + +She turned to him such a distressed and white face that Mr. King stood +perplexedly looking down at her, having nothing to say. + +"I'm tired of her," at last he said; "we are all tired of her; she has +about worn us out." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, seeing her advantage in his hesitation, "if +you will only let her stay, I will never beg you for anything again." + +"Well, then she goes," cried Mr. King shortly. "Goodness me, Polly, if +you are going to stop asking favors, Cousin Eunice marches instanter!" + +"Oh! I'll beg and tease for ever so many things," cried Polly radiantly, +her color coming back. "Will you let her stay, Grandpapa--will you?" She +clasped his arm tightly and would not let him go. + +"Well," said Mr. King slowly, "I'll think about it, Polly." + +"Will you?" cried Polly. "Dear Grandpapa, please say yes." + +Mr. King drew a long breath. "Yes," he said at last. + + + + +XIII + +A PIECE OF NEWS + + +"Collect the whole bunch of Peppers and send them into my writing-room, +Marian." Old Mr. King mounting the stairs, turned to see that his +command was heard. + +"You want Mother Pepper too, I presume?" said Mrs. Whitney, pausing at +the foot. + +"Mother Pepper? No, indeed; the last person in the world I wish to see," +cried her father irritably. "The bunch of Pepper children, I want, and +at once; see that they all report to me directly." With that he +redoubled his efforts and was soon at the top of the long oaken steps. + +Polly and Ben closely followed by Joel, David and Phronsie soon rushed +over the same ascending thoroughfare, and presented themselves, flushed +and panting, at the writing-room door. + +"Come in," called Mr. King from within. + +"Here we are, sir," said Ben, spokesman by virtue of being the eldest. + +"Yes, yes," said Mr. King nervously, and turning away from some papers +he was fumbling to occupy the waiting moments. "Well, do sit down, all +of you. I sent for you to have a talk about something that you--that +you--well, do sit down." + +So all the Peppers deposited themselves in various resting-places; all +but Joel. He immediately marched up to the old gentleman's chair. + +"If it's good news," he said abruptly, "please let us have it right this +minute. But if it's bad, why," a gathering alarm stole over his chubby +countenance, as he scanned the face before him, "I'm going out-doors." + +"It's good or bad news according as you take it," said the old +gentleman. "It ought to be good. But there," pushing back his chair to +look at the row of anxious figures the other side of the table, "do sit +down with the rest, Joe, and stop staring me out of countenance." + +Polly at that, pushed a chair over toward Joel, who persuading himself +into it, sat uncomfortably perched on its edge, where he stared harder +than ever. + +"Hum! well, children, now you are all remarkably sensible boys and +girls. Remarkably sensible. I've always said so, and I see no reason to +change my opinion of you now. And so, although at first my news may not +be quite to your liking, why, you'll quickly make it so, and be very +happy about it in the end. Hem! well, did you ever think that--that your +mother might possibly marry again?" + +The last words were brought out so abruptly, that to the five pairs of +ears strained to catch their import, it seemed as if the news had shot +by harmlessly. But after a breathing space the dreadful "marry," and +"your mother," came back to them, bringing the several owners of the +ears out of their chairs at one bound. + +"Our mother!" Ben hoarsely exclaimed. + +"Oh! how can you?" cried Polly passionately, a little white line showing +around her mouth, "say such perfectly dreadful things, sir!" + +Phronsie clasped her hands in silent terror, and raised big eyes to his +face. David began to walk helplessly down the apartment. "See here!" +said Joel, turning to the others, "wait a minute, and hold on. Perhaps +it's you, sir," whirling back to question, with piercing eyes, the old +gentleman, "who's going to marry our mother. Then it's all right!" + +"Me!" roared the old gentleman. "Oh! bless my soul, what should I want +to marry for at my time of life? Oh! my goodness me." + +His distress was now so frightful to see, that it brought the Peppers in +a measure out of theirs; and they began at once to endeavor to soothe +him. + +"Don't--oh! don't," they cried, and a common trouble overwhelming them, +they rushed around the table, seized his hands, and patted his shoulders +and hair. "Oh! this is very dreadful," gasped Polly, "but don't you feel +badly, dear, dear Grandpapa." + +"I should think it was," said Mr. King. "Phronsie, here, child, get into +my lap. I'll come to myself then. There, now, that's something like," as +Phronsie, with a low cry, hopped into her usual nest. "Now perhaps I can +communicate the rest of my news, when I get my breath." + +The Peppers held theirs, and he began once more. "Now, children, it +isn't in the course of nature for such a fine bright woman as your +mother to remain single the rest of her life; somebody would be sure to +come and carry her off. I'm glad it's to be in my lifetime, for now I +can be easy in my mind, and feel that you have a protector when I am +gone. There, there, we won't talk about that," as the young faces turned +dark with sudden pain, while Joel rushed convulsively to the window, +"you can see how I feel about it." + +"Are you glad?" cried Ben hoarsely. Polly for her life could not speak. +The whole world seemed turning round, and sinking beneath her feet. + +"Yes, I am," said the old gentleman, "and it won't alter the existing +state of things, for he will live here with us, and things will be just +the same, if only you children will take it rightly. But I've no doubt +you will in the end; no doubt at all," he added, brightening up, "for +you are very sensible young people. I've always said so." + +"Who is he?" The dreadful question trembled on all the lips; but no one +asked it. Seeing this, Mr. King broke out, "Well, now of course you want +to know who is going to marry your mother, that is, if you are willing. +For she won't have him unless you are to be happy about it. Would you +like Dr. Fisher for a father?" + +Joel broke away from the window with a howl, while Polly tumultuously +threw herself within the kind arms encircling Phronsie. + +"Next to you," cried the boy, "why, he's a brick, Dr. Fisher is!" + +"Why didn't you tell us before that it was he?" sobbed Polly, with +joyful tears running over her face. Davie, coming out of his gloomy +walk, turned a happy face towards the old man's chair, while Ben said +something to himself that sounded like "Thank God!" + +Phronsie alone remained unmoved. "What is Dr. Fisher going to do?" she +asked presently, amid the chatter that now broke forth. + +"He's going to live here," said old Mr. King, looking down at her, and +smoothing her yellow hair. "Won't that be nice, Phronsie?" + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "it will. And he'll bring his funny old gig, won't +he, and Ill drive sometimes, I suppose?" she added with great +satisfaction. + +"Yes; you will," said the old gentleman, winking furiously to keep back +the excited flow of information that now threatened the child. "Well, +Phronsie, you love Dr. Fisher, don't you?" + +"Yes, I do," said the child, folding her hands in her lap, "love him +very much indeed." + +"Well, he's going to be your father," communicated Mr. King, cautiously +watching her face at each syllable. + +"Oh, no!" cried Phronsie, "he couldn't be; he's Dr. Fisher." She laughed +softly at the idea. "Why, Grandpapa, he couldn't be my father." + +"Listen, Phronsie," and Mr. King took both her hands in his, "and I'll +tell you about it so that you will understand. Dr. Fisher loves your +mother; he has loved her for many years--all those years when she was +struggling on in the little brown house. But he couldn't tell her so, +because he had others depending on him for support. They don't need him +now, and as soon as he is free, he comes and tells your mother and me, +like a noble good man as he is, all about it. He's a gentleman, +children," he declared, turning to the others, "and you will be glad to +call him father." + +"I don't know what you mean," said Phronsie, with puzzled eyes. "Dear +Grandpapa, please tell me." + +"Why, he is going to marry your mother, child, and we are all to live +here together just the same, and everything is going to be just as happy +as possible." + +Phronsie gave a sharp and sudden cry of distress. "But Mamsie, my Mamsie +will be gone!" and then she hid her face in the old gentleman's breast. + +"O dear, dear! get a glass of water, Polly," cried Mr. King. "One of you +run and open the window. Phronsie, Phronsie--there, child, look up and +let me tell you." But Phronsie burrowed yet deeper in the protecting +nest, regardless of his spotless linen. + +"Polly, speak to her," he cried in despair; "where is she? gone for the +water? O dear! Here, Ben, you try. Dear, dear, what a blunderer I am." + +"Phronsie," said Ben, leaning over the shaking figure, "you are making +Grandpapa sick." + +Up came Phronsie's yellow head. "Oh, Grandpapa!" she wailed, putting out +an unsteady little hand, "I didn't mean to, dear Grandpapa, only--only +Mamsie will be gone now." + +"Bless your heart, you'll have Mamsie more than ever," cried Mr. King +heartily. "Here, you children, tell her. Polly, we don't want the water +now, she's come to," as Polly came rushing in with a glassful. "Make her +understand; I can't." + +So Polly, setting down her glass, the others crowding around, took up +the task of making the piece of news as delightful as possible, and +presently Phronsie came out of her despair, to ask questions. + +"Are you really and truly very glad, Polly?" she asked. + +"Really and truly I am so glad I don't know what to do," said Polly, +kneeling down by the chair-side. "Don't you see we are so much the +richer, Phronsie? We have lost nothing, and we gain Dr. Fisher. Dear +splendid Dr. Fisher!" + +"You've always wanted to repay Dr. Fisher for his kindness," said Mr. +King, "and now's your chance, Polly." + +"I guess he'll get his pay back for his stove," cried Joel in a burst; +"Polly will wait on him, and kill herself doing things for him." + +"And for your new eyes," sang Phronsie in a pleased way. "Oh, Polly!" +She jumped out of the old gentleman's lap, and began to dance around the +room, softly clapping her hands and exclaiming, "Oh, Polly!" + +"Well, now, children," said Mr. King, as the excitement ran low, "you +just run and tell your mother, every one of you, how happy she will make +you by bringing Dr. Fisher here as your father. Scamper, now!" + +No need to urge them. On the wings of the wind ran the five Peppers up +into Mamsie's own room. Mrs. Pepper for once turning aside from the +claim of her pressing duties, was standing by the work table. Here stood +the mending basket before her, piled to the brim with the weekly +installment of stockings big and little, clamoring for attention. But +the usually busy needle lay idle, and the busier hands were folded, as +the mother-heart went over the words she knew were being rehearsed +downstairs by the kind friend who had made a home for them. He was +pleading her cause with her children. + +"They shall be happy, anyway," she said softly to herself, "bless their +hearts!" as they burst in. + +"Mother," said Ben--How the boy's cheek glowed! And what a world of joy +rang in the usually quiet tones!--"we want to thank you for giving us +Dr. Fisher for a father." + +"Mamsie," Polly hid her happy face on the dear neck, "I've always loved +him, you know; oh! I'm so glad." + +Joel whooped out something incoherent, but his face told the words, +while Davie clasped one of the firm, closely folded hands. + +"If you'll take me in your lap as much as ever," said Phronsie +deliberately, and patting the other hand, "why I shall be really and +truly glad, Mamsie." + +"Bless your dear heart!" cried Mother Pepper, clasping her tightly, "and +you children, all of you," and she drew them all within her arms. "Now I +want you to understand, once for all, that it isn't to be unless you all +wish it. You are sure Mr. King hasn't persuaded you to like it?" + +"Look at us," cried Ben, throwing back his head to see her eyes. "Do we +act as if we had been talked over?" + +At that, Polly burst into a merry laugh; and the others joining, Mother +Pepper laughing as heartily as the rest, the big room became the +jolliest place imaginable. + +"No, I don't really think you do," said Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes. + +"Dear me!" cried Jasper, putting his head in the doorway, "what good fun +is going on? I'm not going to be left out." + +"Come in, Jasper," they all called. + +"And we've a piece of news that will make your hair stand on end," said +Joel gaily. + +"Joe, don't announce it so," cried Polly in dismay, who dearly enjoyed +being elegant. "Ben must tell it; he is the oldest." + +"No, no; let Polly," protested Ben. + +"Polly shall," said Jasper, hurrying in to stand the picture of patience +before the group. "Hurry, do, for I must say my curiosity is hard to +keep within bounds." + +So Polly was gently pushed into the center of the circle. "Go on," said +Joel, "and hurry up, or I shall tell myself." + +"Jasper," said Polly, her breath coming fast, "oh! you can't think; we +are so glad"--But she got no further, for Phronsie, rushing out of +Mother Pepper's arms, piped out suddenly: + +"Dr. Fisher is coming here to live always and forever, and I'm going to +ride in his gig, and Mamsie likes him, and I'm going to call him father; +now, Jasper, I told you!" + +"I should think you did," exclaimed Ben. + +"Whew!" cried Jasper, "that is a piece of news all in one breath. Well, +Mrs. Pepper, I'm glad of it, too. I congratulate you." With that, he +marched up to her, Phronsie hanging to his arm, and shook her hand +heartily. + +And in two days everybody in the King set knew that the mother of the +five little Peppers was going to be married. + +"I should think you'd want to be condoled with, Ben," said Pickering +Dodge, clapping him on the shoulder as he rushed down the aisle of the +store occupied by Cabot & Van Meter. + +"Halloo!" said Ben, "can't stop," rushing past. + +"I suppose not," said Pickering carelessly, and striding after, "so I'll +whisper my gentle congratulations in your ear 'on the wing.' But I'm +awfully sorry for you, Ben," he added, as he came up to him. + +"You needn't be," said Ben brightly, "we are all as glad as can be." + +"Sweet innocent, you don't know a stepfather," said Pickering +lugubriously. + +"I know Dr. Fisher," said Ben, "that's enough." + +"Well, when you want comfort, come to me," said Pickering, "or your +uncle!" + +"Don't you fill Ben's ears with your foolishness," said the Senior +Partner, coming out of the counting-room. "Take yourself off, Pickering; +you're hindering Ben." + +Pickering laughed. "I'm caught in the very act. Now, Ben, remember I'm +your friend when you get into trouble with your dear pa. Good-by, +Uncle," with a bright nod, and a lazy shake of his long figure. "Trade +always demoralizes me. I'll get back to my books," and he vanished as +quickly as he came. + +"Back to your books," said his uncle grimly, "hum, I wish you would. See +here, Ben," he put a controlling hand on the boy's shoulder, "one word +with you," marching him into the private office of the firm. "Don't you +follow Pickering too closely, my boy," he said abruptly; "he's a good +lad in the main, but if he is my nephew, I must give you warning. He's +losing ground." + +Ben lifted his head in sudden alarm. "Oh! I hope not, sir," he said. + +"It's a fact. Master Nelson says he could be first scholar in the +grammar, but for the last six months he's failed steadily. There's no +particular reason, only ambition's gone. And when you say that, you mean +there's a general collapse of all my hopes concerning him." + +"Oh! no, sir," Ben kept on protesting, his ruddy cheek losing its color. +"He'll take hold by and by and give a pull at his books again." + +"It isn't a pull now and then that gets a man up hill," observed Mr. +Cabot, leaning back in his revolving chair to look into the blue eyes, +"that you know as well as I. Now, Ben, I'm not going to see you throw +away your prospects, too. Don't let him influence you in the wrong way. +He's bright and attractive, but don't pay attention to his ridicule of +good things." + +"I've a mother," said Ben proudly, "and I don't believe any boy could +say much to me, that I'd think of twice, if she didn't like it." + +"You always tell her everything, do you, Ben?" asked Mr. Cabot with a +curious glance. + +"I should think so, sir," said Ben, with a short laugh. + +"You'll do, then," said Mr. Cabot, bringing his palm down on a pile of +unread letters awaiting him. "Go ahead. I don't promise anything, but I +will say this. If you work on as you have done these two years since you +came in here as errand boy, Ben, I'll make you a power in the house. +Understand I don't expect you to do brilliant things; that isn't in your +line. You will be a success only as a steady, faithful worker. But keep +at it, and hang on to Cabot & Van Meter, and we'll hang on to you." + + + + +XIV + +MAMSIE'S WEDDING + + +"Polly," said Dr. Fisher, coming suddenly out of a corner of the library +as she ran around the portiere folds, "you are sure you are willing--are +willing it should go on?" + +The little man peered at her anxiously through his big glasses, and he +looked so exactly as he did on that morning so long ago when Polly's +eyes were at their worst, that she could do nothing but gaze +speechlessly into his face. + +"I see you don't consider it quite best, child," said the little doctor +brokenly, "but you are trying with your good heart, to make it so. Don't +be afraid; it is not too late to end it all." + +"I was thinking," cried Polly with a gasp, "how good you were to me, +when you saved my eyes, and how you kept Joel from dying of the measles. +Oh! I couldn't speak--but I love you so." + +She threw her young arms around him. "Papa Fisher--for you are almost my +father now--I am the very, very happiest girl because you are going to +live here, and now I can show you just how much I really and truly love +you." + +The little man beamed at her. Then he took off his spectacles, wiped +them, and clapped them into place again. "You see, Polly," he said +deliberately, "it was impossible to see your mother and not love her. +She has had--well, there, child, I cannot bear to talk about it," and he +walked to the window, blew his nose violently on an immense pocket- +handkerchief, leaving the words poised in mid-air. + +"It was the greatest trial of my life that I couldn't show her then when +she was struggling so bravely to keep the wolf from the door, how I +felt. But my hands were tied, child," he added, coming back, his usual +self again. "Now I can make her, she says, happy, that is, if you +children like it. Just think, Polly, she said happy! It's stupendous, +but she said so, Polly, she really did!" + +He folded his hands and looked at her in astonishment, behind which +shone an intense gratification, that lighted up his plain little face +till he seemed to grow younger every instant. + +"Indeed she did!" repeated Polly like a bird, and laughing merrily. "Oh, +Papa Fisher! you ought to hear Mamsie sing. She doesn't know I'm hearing +her, but she sings at her work now." + +"Does she?" cried the doctor radiantly. "Well, Polly, we must see that +she sings every day, after this." + +"Yes, let us," cried Polly, clasping his hand; "we will." + +"And," proceeded the doctor, "after the wedding is over--I It really +dread the wedding, Polly--but after that is over, I do believe we shall +all be comfortable together!" + +Polly gave a little cry of delight. Then she said, "You needn't dread +the wedding one bit, Papa Fisher. There will be only the people that we +love, and who love us--Grandpapa promised that." + +"But that will make it very big," said Dr. Fisher, with round eyes and a +small shiver he could not suppress. + +"Oh, no!" said Polly cheerily, "sixty-five friends; that's all we are +going to ask; Mamsie and I made out the list last night." + +"Sixty-five people!" exclaimed Dr. Fisher in dismay. "Oh! isn't is +possible to be married without sixty-five friends to stare at you?" + +"Oh! that's not many," said Polly; "sixty-five is the very smallest +number that we could manage. We've been over the list ever so many +times, and struck out quantities of names. You see, everybody loves +Mamsie, and they'll want to see her married." + +"I know--I know," assented the doctor, "but that makes one hundred and +thirty eyes. Did you ever think of that, Polly?" + +Polly burst into such a laugh that Jasper popped in, and after him, +Phronsie, and a general hilarity now reigning, the dreaded wedding +preparations soon sank away from the doctor's perturbed vision. + +But they went on merrily nevertheless. All over the old stone mansion +there were hints of the on-coming festivities; and though all signs of +it were tucked away from the little doctor on his occasional visits, the +smothered excitement flamed afresh immediately his departure became an +assured thing. Everybody had the wildest plans for the occasion; it +appearing impossible to do enough for the one who had stood at the helm +for five long years, and who was to be reigning housekeeper for as much +longer as her services were needed. + +And Dr. Fisher never knew how perilously near he had been to the verge +of brilliant evening festivities, in the midst of which he was to be +ushered into matrimony. + +For Polly had suddenly waked one morning, to find herself, not "famous," +but alive with the sense of being--as her mother had so often expressed +it--"Mamsie's little right-hand woman." + +"It will be much better to have everything plain," said Polly, communing +with herself, as she turned on her pillow. "Mamsie has always been +without show, of any kind, and so," but here Polly's heart stood still. +Dearly she loved the bright, conspicuous accompaniments to the wedding +whereby Mr. King was determined to show his respect for the family under +his care. And her soul secretly longed for the five hundred guests named +on a list of the old gentleman's drawing up. And the feast and the +lights, and the pretty dresses, and the dancing party for the young +people to follow. For Mr. King had announced himself as about to usher +in the brightest of days for the young Peppers to remember. + +"Besides it brings our new physician into notice," he would answer when +any faint protest was made. "And we shall all have reason to be +immensely proud of him, I tell you!" + +"Oh, dear!" cried Polly, burrowing deeper within the pillow folds, "why +aren't pleasant things best to do? Why, I wonder!" + +Cherry, twittering in the window, chirped something vague and +unsatisfactory. Polly brought up her brown head suddenly and laughed. + +"Nonsense! our happiness doesn't depend upon a lot of people coming +together to help it along. Mamsie's face, whenever Grandpapa plans all +this magnificence, is enough to make me feel wretched at the thought of +it. Dear Mamsie! she's afraid of ingratitude if she doesn't try to like +it. She shall have the little morning wedding with a few people around, +and the gray silk gown instead of the lavender one Grandpapa wants her +to wear, for Mamsie always knows just what is right." + +With that, Polly sprang out of bed, and rushed at her toilet, and after +breakfast she quietly captured Mr. King on the edge of some other +extravagant plan, and led him into the library. + +"Everything is going on finely, Polly," he cried in elation. "Ring for +Thomas, child; stay, I'll do it myself. I shall go in an hour to give my +orders for the wedding supper." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, turning quite pale, and laying a quick, +detaining hand on his arm, "oh! do wait, dear Grandpapa, I have +something to say." + +"Well, child," but he still retained his hand on the cord. + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" how could she say it! But she must. "Mamsie will be +ever so much happier if the wedding might be a quiet one. She really +would, Grandpapa." + +"No doubt Mrs. Pepper finds it a little hard to adjust her ideas to the +large affair," said the old gentleman, considerably disturbed, and by no +means relinquishing the bell-cord, "but it is due to you children to +have a bright time, and I must see that you all have it. That is my +affair," and this time the cord was pulled, and the bell rang a loud, +insistent message. + +Polly stood still in despair. "Grandpapa," she said distinctly, finding +it hard to proceed, with his face before her, "we children do not want +the large party; that is I do not." + +It was all out at last. + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. King sharply, for his surprise was +too great to allow of composure, "who has been putting this idea into +your head? Your mother couldn't have done it, for she promised it should +all be as you young people wanted." + +"Mamsie never said a word," cried Polly, recovering herself as she saw a +chance to make things right for Mother Pepper; "it all came to me, +Grandpapa, all alone by myself. Oh! I hate the big display!" she +declared with sudden vehemence, astonishing herself with the repulsion +that now seized her. + +"Hoity toity!" exclaimed Mr. King, "it's not quite the thing, Polly, my +child, to express yourself so decidedly, considering your years." + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, with a sudden rush of tears, "forgive me, do; +I did not mean to be so naughty. I did not, dear Grandpapa." She looked +like Phronsie now, and the old gentleman's heart melted. "But I am quite +sure that none of us children would be a bit happy not to have it as +Mamsie would like." + +"Well, but I am not sure that the others wouldn't like it," said Mr. +King persistently. + +"Ben wouldn't," said Polly triumphantly, "I know, for he all along +shrank from the big party." + +"Oh! well, Ben, I suppose, would object somewhat," conceded the old +gentleman slowly. + +"And Davie," cried Polly eagerly; "Oh, Grandpapa! David would much +prefer the morning wedding and the plain things." + +"But how about Joel and Phronsie?" interrupted Mr. King, utterly +ignoring Davie's claims to be heard. "Ah! Polly, my dear, until you tell +me that they will prefer to give up the fine party, you mustn't expect +me to pay any attention to what you say. It's due to Phronsie that your +mother's wedding is a thing worthy to remember as a fine affair." + +"Perhaps Joel and Phronsie will think as we do," said Polly. But her +heart said No. + +"All right if they do," said Mr. King easily, "but unless you come and +tell me it is their own choice, why, I shall just go on with my plans as +mapped out," he added obstinately. "Thomas," as that functionary +appeared in the doorway, "take the letters to the post at once; you will +find them on my writing table." + +"All right, sir." + +"I'll give you till to-morrow to find out," said Mr. King. "Now come and +kiss me, Polly dear. You'll see it's all right after it's over, and be +glad I had the sense to keep my mind about it." + +Polly put up her lips obediently. But it was a sad little kiss that was +set upon his mouth, and it left him feeling like a criminal. + +And running out, she met her difficult task without a moment of +preparation. + +"Halloo, Polly!" whooped Joel, rushing around an angle in the hall, +"Grandpapa promised me that I might go out with him, to give the supper +orders, and all that kind of nonsense." + +Polly's heart stood still. + +"Joel," she began, seizing his jacket with trembling fingers, "come up +into my room a minute." + +"What's up?" cried Joel with curiosity; "some more mysteries? There's +nothing but whisperings, and secrets, and no end of jolly +understandings, ever since Mamsie commenced to marry Dr. Fisher. Go +ahead, I'll come." + +"And Phronsie, too," said Polly, seeing the yellow head emerge from the +breakfast-room doorway. + +"Come on, Phron," sang out Joel, "up in Polly's room--she wants you," +and the three hurried off. + +"Now, Joel," said Polly, closing the door and facing him desperately, +"you are Mamsie's own boy." + +"I should think so," said Joel, "I'm not anybody's else. Is that all you +brought me up here to say?" thrusting his hands in his pockets and +looking at her. + +"And you can make her happy, or just as miserable as I can't say what," +went on Polly incoherently. + +"What in the world are you firing at?" demanded the boy, visions of +certain pranks at school unpleasantly before him. "Don't shoot over my +head, Polly, but keep somewhere near your mark," he advised irritably. + +Phronsie surveyed the two with wide eyes, and a not wholly pleased +manner. + +"Mamsie does not want a big wedding," declared Polly, going to the heart +of the matter, "but dear kind Grandpapa thinks it will please us +children, and so he wants to give her one." + +"And so it will," cried Joel, "please us children. Whoop la! give us +your hand, Phronsie, this is the way we'll dance afterwards at the +party." + +"I don't want to dance," said Phronsie, standing quite still in the +middle of the room. The morning sun shone across her yellow hair, but no +light came into the large eyes. "Polly wants something, first; what is +it, Joel?" + +"I'm sure I don't know," said Joel, poised on a careless foot, and +executing a remarkable pas seul. "I don't believe she knows herself. +Polly is often queer, you know, Phronsie," he added cheerfully. + +"Tell me, Polly, do," whispered Phronsie, going over to her. + +"Phronsie," said Polly very slowly, "Mamsie doesn't want a big party in +the evening to see her married, but to have a cunning little company of +friends come in the morning, and"-- + +"Ugh!" cried Joel in disgust, coming down suddenly to both feet. + +"It will please Mamsie best," went on Polly, with a cold shoulder to +Joel. "And I never should be happy in all this world to remember that I +helped to make my Mamsie unhappy on her wedding day." + +Phronsie shivered, and her voice held a miserable little thrill as she +begged, "Oh! make her be married just as she wants to be, Polly, do." + +"Now that's what I call mean," cried Joel in a loud, vindictive tone +back of Polly, "to work on Phronsie's feelings. You can't make me say I +don't want Mamsie to have a wedding splurge, so there, Polly Pepper!" + +Polly preserved a dignified silence, and presented her shoulder again to +his view. + +"You can't make me say it, Polly Pepper!" shouted Joel shrilly. + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly in a rapture, throwing her arms around +the child, "Mamsie will be so pleased--you can't think. Let us go and +tell her; come!" + +"See here!" called Joel, edging up, "why don't you talk to me?" + +"I haven't anything to say," Polly condescended to give him, without +turning her head. "Come, Phronsie," holding out her hand. + +"Wait a minute." + +"Well, what is it?" Polly's hand now held Phronsie's, but she paused on +the way to the door. + +"I guess I can give up things as well as she can, if I know Mamsie wants +me to," said Joel, with a deeply injured manner. + +"Mamsie doesn't want any of us to give up anything unless we do it as if +we were glad to," said Polly. For her life, she couldn't conceal a +little scornful note in her voice, and Joel winced miserably. + +"I--I wish she wouldn't have the big party," he whined. + +"I thought you wanted it," said Polly, turning to him. + +"I--I don't. I'd rather Mamsie would be happy. O, dear! don't look at me +so." + +"I'm not looking at you so," said Polly. "You acted just as if you had +your heart set on the party." + +"Well, it isn't. I'll--I'll--if you say party to me again!" and he faced +her vindictively. + +"Joel Pepper!" cried Polly, holding him with her brown eyes, "do you +really mean that you are glad to give up that big evening party, and +have the little teeny one in the morning?" + +"Yes," said Joel, "as true as I live and breathe, I do!" + +"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Polly, and seizing his arm, she led off in a dance, +so much surpassing his efforts, that Phronsie screamed with delight to +see them go. When they could dance no more, Polly, flushed and panting, +ran out of the room, leaving the two to find out as best they might, the +cause of the strange demeanor. + +"Grandpapa," Polly rushing over the stairs, met him coming up to Mrs. +Whitney's room, "Joel says it's the little morning wedding--please; and +Phronsie too!" + +The old gentleman gave no sign of his defeat, beyond a "Humph! and so +I'm beaten, after all!" + +And Dr. Fisher never knew all this. + +Mamsie's wedding-day! At last it came! Was any other ever so bright and +beautiful? Phronsie thought not, and thereupon she impeded the +preparations by running up to kiss her mother every few moments, until +such time as Felicie carried her off to induct her into a white muslin +gown. Polly, here, there, and everywhere, was in such a rapture that she +seemed to float on wings, while the boys of the household, with the +exception of Jasper, lost their heads early in the day, and helplessly +succumbed to all demands upon them. + +Every flower had to be put in place by the young people. Old Turner for +once stood one side. And Polly must put the white satin boxes filled +with wedding cake on the little table where one of the waiters would +hand them to departing guests. And Phronsie must fasten Mamsie's pearl +broach--the gift of the five little Peppers--in her lace collar the very +last thing. And Jasper collected the rice and set the basket holding it +safely away from Joel's eager fingers till such time as they could +shower the bride's carriage. And all the boys were ushers, even little +Dick coming up grandly to offer his arm to the tallest guest as it +happened. + +And old Mr. King gave the bride away! And Dr. Fisher at the last forgot +all the one hundred and thirty eyes, and his "I will," rang out like a +man's who has secured what he has long wanted. And ever so many of the +guests said "What a good father he will make the children," and several +attempted to tell the Peppers so. "As if we didn't know it before," said +Joel indignantly. + +And Alexia and all the other girls of Polly's set were there, and Joel's +little blue and white creature came, to his great satisfaction, with her +aunt, who was quite intimate in the family; and Pickering Dodge was +there of course, and the Alstynes, and hosts of others. + +And Mother Pepper in her silver-gray gown and bonnet, by the side of her +husband, with Phronsie clinging to one hand, heard nothing but heart- +felt wishes for her happiness and that of the five little Peppers. + +And there was not so much as the shadow of a skeleton at the wedding +breakfast. And Cousin Mason Whitney took charge of the toasts--and +everybody felt that just the right things had been said. And then there +was a flutter of departure of the bridal party, and in the rattle of the +wheels Phronsie piped out bravely as she threw the slipper after the +departing coach: + +"Mamsie has been taking care of us all these years; now we're going to +be good and let her be happy." + + + + +XV + +MRS. CHATTERTON HAS A NEW PLAN + + +"Polly is learning to play beautifully," mused Phronsie, nursing one +foot contemplatively, as she curled up on the floor. "And Ben is to be a +capital business man, so Papa Fisher says, and Joel is going to buy up +this whole town sometime, and Davie knows ever so many books from +beginning to end, but what can I do?" + +Down went the little foot to the floor, and the yellow head drooped over +the white apron. + +"Nothing," mourned Phronsie, "just nothing at all; not even the wee-est +teeniest bit of anything do I know how to do. O, dear!" + +Outside, Jasper was calling to Prince. Phronsie could hear the big dog +rushing over the lawn in response, barking furiously as he went. But she +did not move. + +"And Mamsie will never be glad for me, unless I learn how to do things +too. If I don't hurry, I shall never be grown up." + +"Tweet--tweet--ch-r-r-r"--Cherry in his cage over her head, chirped +vigorously by way of consolation, but Phronsie did not lift her head. +Cherry seeing all his efforts in vain, stopped his song and rolled one +black eye down at her in astonishment, and soon became quite still. + +Presently the rustle of a stiff black satin gown became the chief +intruder upon the silence. It was so asserting that Phronsie lifted her +head to look into the face of Mrs. Chatterton, standing before her, +playing with the rings on her long white hands, and regarding her as if +she would soon require an explanation of such strange conduct. + +"What are you doing, Phronsie?" at last demanded the lady. + +"Thinking," said Phronsie; and she laid her chin in her hand, and slowly +turned her gaze upon the thin, disagreeable face before her, but not as +if in the slightest degree given up to a study of its lines and +expression. + +"So I perceive," said Mrs. Chatterton harshly. "Well, and what are you +thinking of, pray tell?" + +Still Phronsie looked beyond her, and it was not until the question had +been repeated, that an answer came. + +"Of many things," said Phronsie, "but I do not think I ought to tell +you." + +"And why not, pray?" cried the lady, with a short and most unpleasant +laugh. + +"Because I do not think you would understand them," said Phronsie. And +now she looked at the face she had before overlooked, with a deliberate +scrutiny as if she would not need to repeat the attention. + +"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton angrily, "and pray how long since +your thoughts have been so valuable?" + +"My thoughts are nice ones," said Phronsie slowly, "because they are +about nice people." + +"Ah!" + +"And they won't tell themselves. And I ought not to make them. They +would fly away then, and I should never find them again, when I wanted +to think them." + +"Your mother brought you up well, I must say," observed Mrs. Chatterton, +deliberately drawing up a chair and putting her long figure within it, +"to talk in this style to a lady as old as I am." + +Phronsie allowed one foot to gently trace the pattern on the carpet +before she answered. "I know you are very old," she said at last, "but I +cannot tell my thoughts to you." + +"Very old!" cried Mrs. Chatterton, her chin in the air. "Indeed! well, I +am not, I would have you know, Miss Phronsie," and she played with the +silk cord of her satin wrapper. "I hate a child that is made a prig!" +she added explosively under her breath. + +Phronsie made no reply, being already deep in her own calculations once +more. + +"Now, Phronsie," said Mrs. Chatterton, suddenly drawing herself out of +her angry fit, and clearing her brow, "I want you to give your attention +to me a moment, for I have something I must say to you. That's why I +came in here, to find you alone. Come, look at me, child. It isn't +polite to be staring at the carpet all the time." + +Phronsie, thus admonished, took her gaze from the floor, to bestow it on +the face above her. + +"It's something that nobody is to know but just you and me," began Mrs. +Chatterton, with a cautious glance at the door. + +Then she got out of her chair, and going across the room, closed it +carefully. "There, that's better; Polly is always around. Now we are +quite alone," coming back to her seat. + +"You see, Phronsie," she proceeded, not caring that the brown eyes were +slowly adding to their astonishment an expression that augured ill for +any plans she might be hoping to carry out toward propitiation. "It is +necessary to be careful not to be overheard, for what I am going to say +to you must be kept quite secret." + +"I must tell Mamsie," said Phronsie distinctly. + +"Indeed you will not," declared Mrs. Chatterton. "She is the very one of +all others who ought not to know. You can help her, Phronsie, if you +only keep quiet." + +Phronsie's eyes now became so very large that Mrs. Chatterton hastened +to add: + +"You know Polly is learning to be a music teacher when she grows up." + +Phronsie made no reply. + +"And a very creditable one she will be, from all acounts I can gather," +contributed Mrs. Chatterton carelessly. "Well, Ben is doing well in +Cabot & Van Meter's, so he's no trouble to your mother. As for the two +boys, I know nothing about them, one way or the other. But you, as you +are a girl, and the only one not provided for, why, I shall show a +little kindness in your direction. It's wholly disinterested and +quixotic, I know," added Mrs. Chatterton, with a sweeping gaze at the +walls and ceilings, "for me to give myself a thought about you or your +future. And I shall never receive so much as a thank you for it. But +I've passed all my life in thinking of others, Phronsie," here she +brought down her attention to the absorbed little countenance, "and I +cannot change now," she finished pensively. + +A silence fell upon them, so great that Mrs. Chatterton broke it +nervously. "Goodness me, Phronsie, you are not like a child; you are too +uncanny for anything. Why don't you ask questions about my secret?" + +"Because I ought not to know it," said Phronsie, finding her tongue. + +"Haven't I told you that you will help your mother only by not telling +her?" said Mrs. Chatterton. "How would you like to learn how to take +care of yourself when you are a big girl?" + +A light slowly gathered in the brown eyes, becoming at last so joyous +and assured, that Mrs. Chatterton's face dropped its hard lines, to lose +itself in a gratified smile. + +"Now you make me see some real hope that my scheme won't be wholly a +wild piece of philanthropy," she exclaimed. "Only look like that, +Phronsie, and I'll do anything for you." + +"If I can do anything for Mamsie," cried Phronsie, clasping her hands in +rapture. "Oh! do tell me, dear Mrs. Chatterton," she pleaded. + +"Oh! now I am dear Mrs. Chatterton," cried that lady, with a hard, ill- +favored smile. But she lowered her tone to a gentler one, and extending +one jeweled hand, took the little folded ones in her clasp. + +"I will be a good friend to you, and show you how you can learn to do +something so that when you grow up, you can take care of yourself, just +as Polly will. Just think, Phronsie, just as Polly will," cried Mrs. +Chatterton artfully. + +"How--how?" demanded Phronsie, scarcely breathing. + +"Listen, Phronsie. Now you know I haven't any little girl." + +Phronsie drew a long breath. + +"Well, I have been looking for one for a long time. I want one who will +be a daughter to me; who will grow up under my direction, and who will +appreciate what I sacrifice in taking her. She must be nice-looking, for +I couldn't stand an ill-favored child. I have found several who were +much better looking than you, Phronsie; in fact, they were beauties; but +I don't like the attitude of their families. The poor things actually +thought they were doing me a favor by accepting my proposition for the +children." + +As this statement required no remark on the part of the hearer, Phronsie +was silent, not removing her eyes from Mrs. Chatterton's face. + +"Now, although you haven't as much to recommend you as many other +children that I have fancied, I hope to make you serve my purpose. I am +going to try you, at least. Every day, Phronsie, you can come to my +room. It's lucky that you don't go to school, but do pretty much as you +like in this house, so no questions will be asked." + +"I go to Grandpapa's room every day," said Phronsie, in a distressed +tone, "to my lessons." + +"Of course. I know that; a very silly thing it is too. There's no use in +trying to break it up now, I suppose, or I'd put my hand to the attempt. +But you can come to me after you've got through toadying Mr. King." + +"What is toding?" asked Phronsie. + +"Never mind; that hasn't anything to do with the business in hand," +replied Mrs. Chatterton impatiently. "Now if you come to me every day, +and give me as much time as you can, why, I'll show you what I want of +you, and teach you many things. Then after a while, Phronsie, when you +learn to appreciate it, I shall tell you what I am going to do. The +adoption will be an easy matter, I fancy, when the child is interested," +she added, taking the precaution to mutter it. + +"You must do everything as I tell you," Mrs. Chatterton leaned forward, +and said with great deliberateness, "else you will lose this chance to +help your mother. And you will never have another like it, but will grow +up to be a good-for-nothing little thing when Polly and all the rest are +earning money for your Mamsie, as you call her." + +"I shall earn money too," declared Phronsie on a high note, and nodding +her yellow head with great decision. + +"Never!" Mrs. Chatterton brought her foot, incased in its black satin +slipper, down with force on the carpet. "You will never earn a cent of +money in all this world, unless you do exactly as I say; for you are a +child who hasn't it in her to learn anything. But you can help me, and I +shall teach you many things, and do well by you." + +"When I grow a big girl, will anybody want me to do those things that +you are going to teach me?" asked Phronsie, drawing near to lay her hand +on the stiff black gown, and speaking earnestly. "Then if they will, +I'll try to do them just exactly as you tell me." + +"Of course they will," declared Mrs. Chatterton carefully, edging off +from the little fingers; "ever so many people will want you, Phronsie. +And I shall give you a great deal of money." + +"I shall give it all to Mamsie," interrupted Phronsie, her brown eyes +dilating quickly, "every single twenty-five cents you give me. Then I +guess she will be glad, don't you?" she cried, clasping her hands in +sudden rapture, while she began to dance up and down. + +"I shall give you so many twenty-five cents," cried Mrs. Chatterton, +beginning to feel her old heart beat with more enthusiasm than she had +known for many a day, "that you will be very rich, Phronsie." + +"Oh-oh!" cried Phronsie, coming to an abrupt pause in the middle of the +floor, her cheek paling in excitement. And then she could say no more. + +"But you must do exactly as I tell you." Mrs. Chatterton leaned forward +suddenly, and seized the little hands, now so still in their delight. +"Remember, it is only when you follow my commands in every single thing +that you will have any chance of earning all this money for your mother, +and helping her just at Polly is going to do. Remember now, Phronsie!" + +"I will remember," said Phronsie slowly, as her hands were released. + +"Very good. We will begin now then." Mrs. Chatterton threw herself back +in her chair, and drew a long breath. "Lucky I found the child alone, +and so tractable. It's singularly good fortune," she muttered. "Well," +aloud, with a light laugh, "now, Phronsie, if you are going to be your +mother's helper, why, this is your first duty. Let us see how well you +perform it. Run upstairs to the closet out of the lumber-room, and open +the little black box on the shelf in front of the door--the box isn't +locked--and bring me the roll of black velvet ribbon you will find +there." + +Phronsie was about to ask, "Why does not Hortense go up for it?" but +Mrs. Chatterton forestalled the question by saying with a frown, +"Hortense has gone down to the dressmaker's. No child who calls me to +account for anything I ask of her can be helped by me. Do as you like, +Phronsie. No one will compel you to learn how to do things so that you +can be a comfort to your mother. Only remember, if you don't obey me, +you will lose your only chance." After this speech, Mrs. Chatterton sat +back and played with her rings, looking with oblique glances of cold +consideration at the child. + +"I'll go," said Phronsie with a long sigh, "and do every thing you say." + +"I do really believe I can bend one of those dreadful Pepper children to +my will," thought Mrs. Chatterton exultingly. "She is my only hope. +Polly does better than she did, but she is too old to be tractable, and +she has a shrewd head on her practical body, and the others are just +horrible!" She gave a shiver. "But Phronsie will grow up to fit my +purpose, I think. Three purposes, I may say--to get the Peppers +gradually out from under Horatio King's influence, and to train up a +girl to wait on me so that I can get away from these French villains of +maids, and to spite Alexander's daughter by finally adopting this +Phronsie if she suits me. But I must move carefully. The first thing is +to get the child fastened to me by her own will." + +Phronsie, ascending the stairs to the lumber-room, with careful +deliberateness, found no hint of joy at the prospect before her, +reaching into the dim distance to that enchanted time when she should be +grown up. But there was a strangely new sense of responsibility, born in +an hour; and an acceptance of life's burdens, that made her feel very +old and wise. + +"I shall be a comfort to my mother," she said confidently, and mounted +on. + + + + +XVI + +WHERE IS PHRONSIE? + + +Phronsie shut the door of the lumber-room, and with a great sigh realized +that she had with her own hand cut herself off from the gay life below +stairs. + +"But they are not so very far off," she said, "and I shall soon be down +again," as she made her way across the room and opened the closet door. + +A little mouse scurried along the shelf and dropped to the floor. +Phronsie peered into the darkness within, her small heart beating +fearfully as she held the knob in her hand. + +"There may be more," she said irresolutely. "I suppose he wouldn't live +up here all alone. Please go away, mousie, and let me get the box." + +For answer there was a scratching and nibbling down in the corner that +held more terrors for the anxious ears than an invading army. + +"I must go in," said Phronsie, "and bring out the box. Please, good +mouse, go away for one moment; then you may come back and stay all day." + +But the shadowy corner only gave back the renewed efforts of the sharp +little teeth; so at last, Phronsie, plucking up courage, stepped in. The +door swung to after her, giving out a little click, unnoticed in her +trepidation as she picked her way carefully along, holding her red gown +away from any chance nibbles. It was a low narrow closet, unlighted save +by a narrow latticed window, in the ceiling, for the most part filled +with two lines of shelves running along the side and one end. Phronsie +caught her breath as she went in, the air was so confined; and stumbling +over in the dim light, put her hand on the box desired, a small black +affair, easily found, as it was the only one there. + +"I will take it out into the lumber-room; then I can get the velvet +roll," and gathering it up within her arms, she speedily made her way +back to the door. + +"Why"--another pull at the knob; but with the same result, and Phronsie, +setting the box on the floor, still with thoughts only of the mouse, put +both hands to the task of opening the door. + +"It sticks, I suppose, because no one comes up here only once in a great +while," she said in a puzzled way. "I ought to be able to pull it open, +I'm sure, for I am so big and strong." She exerted all her strength till +her face was like a rose. The door was fast. Phronsie turned a +despairing look upon the shadowy corner. + +"Please don't bite me," she said, the large tears gathering in her brown +eyes. "I am locked in here in your house; but I didn't want to come, and +I won't do anything to hurt you if you'll let me sit down and wait till +somebody comes to let me out." + +Meanwhile Mrs. Chatterton shook out her black satin gown complacently, +and with a satisfied backward glance at the mirror, sailed off to her +own apartments. + +"Madame," exclaimed Hortense breathlessly, meeting her within the door, +"de modiste will not send de gown; you must"-- + +"Will not send it?" repeated her mistress in a passion. "A pretty +message to deliver. Go back and get it at once." + +"She say de drapery--de tournure all wrong, and she must try it on +again," said the maid, glad to be defiant, since the dressmaker +supported her. + +"What utter nonsense! Yet I suppose I must go, or the silly creature +will have it ruined. Take off this gown, Hortense, and bring my walking +suit, then ring and say I'd like to have Thomas take me down there at +once," and throwing off her bracelets, and the various buckles and pins +that confined her laces, she rapidly disrobed and was expeditiously +inducted by Hortense into her walking apparel, and, a parlor maid +announcing that Thomas with the coupe was at the door, she hurried +downstairs, with no thought for anything beyond a hasty last charge to +her maid. + +"Where's Phronsie?" cried Polly, rushing into Mother Fisher's room; "O +dear me, my hair won't stay straight," pushing the rebellious waves out +of her eyes. + +"It looks as if a brush wouldn't do it any harm," observed Mother Fisher +critically. + +"O dear, dear! well, I've brushed and brushed, but it does no good," +said Polly, running over to the mirror; "some days, Mamsie, no matter +what I do, it flies all ways." + +"Good work tells generally," said her mother, pausing on her way to the +closet for a closer inspection of her and her head; "you haven't taken +as much pains, Polly, lately with your hair; that is the trouble." + +"Well, I'm always in such a hurry," mourned Polly, brushing furiously on +the refractory locks. "There, will you stay down?" to a particularly +rebellious wave. + +"One at a time is the best way to take things," said Mrs. Fisher dryly. +"When you dress yourself, Polly, I'd put my mind on that, if I were +you." + +With that, she disappeared within the closet. + +"O dear, I suppose so," sighed Polly, left to her own reflections and +brushing away. "Well, that's the best I can make it look now, for I +can't do the braid over. Where is Phronsie, I wonder! Mamsie," she threw +down the brush and ran over to put her head in the closet, "where did +she go?" + +"I told her she might run over to Helen Fargo's, right after breakfast," +said Mrs. Fisher, her head over a trunk, from which she was taking +summer dresses. "Polly, I think you'll get one more season's wear out of +this pink cambric." + +"Oh! I am so glad," cried Polly, "for I had such splendidly good times +in it," with a fond glance at the pink folds and ruffles. "Well, if +Phronsie is over at Helen's, there's no use in asking her to go down +town with us." + +"Where are you going?" asked Mrs. Fisher, extricating one of Phronsie's +white gowns from its winter imprisonment. + +"Down to Candace's," said Polly. "Jasper wants some more pins for his +cabinet. No, I don't suppose Phronsie would tear herself away from Helen +for all the down-towns in the world." + +"You would better let her stay where she is," advised Mother Fisher; +"she hasn't been over to Helen's for quite a while, so it's a pity to +call her away," and she turned to her unpacking again, while Polly ran +off on the wings of the wind, in a tremor at having kept Jasper waiting +so long. + +"Candace" was the widow of an old colored servant of Mr. King's; she +called herself a "relict;" that, and the pride in her little shop, made +her hold her turbaned head high in the air, while a perennial smile +enwreathed her round face. + +The shop was on Temple Place, a narrow extension thrown out from one of +the city's thoroughfares. She was known for a few specialties; such as +big sugary doughnuts that appealed alike to old and young. They were +always fresh and sweet, with just the proper amount of spice to make +them toothsome; and she made holders of various descriptions, with the +most elaborate patterns wrought always in yellow worsted; with several +other things that the ladies protested could never be found elsewhere. +Jasper had been accustomed to run down to Candace's little shop, since +pinafore days, when he had been taken there by his nurse, and set upon a +high stool before the small counter, and plied with dainties by the +delighted Candace. + +"The first thing I can remember," he had often told Polly, "is Candace +taking out huge red and white peppermint drops, from the big glass jar +in the window, and telling me to hold out both hands." + +And after the "pinafore days" were over, Candace was the boy's helper in +all his sports where a woman's needle could stitch him out of any +difficulty. She it was who made the sails to his boats, and marvelous +skate bags. She embroidered the most intricate of straps for his school- +books, and once she horrified him completely by working in red cotton, +large "J's" on two handkerchiefs. He stifled the horror when he saw her +delight in presenting the gift, and afterwards was careful to remember +to carry a handkerchief occasionally when on an errand to the shop. + +Latterly Candace was occupied in preparing pins for Jasper's cabinet, +out of old needles that had lost their eyes. She cleverly put on red and +black sealing wax heads, turning them out as round as the skillful +manipulation of deft fingers could make them. In this new employment, +the boy kept her well occupied, many half-dollars thereby finding their +way into her little till. + +"I wish Phronsie had come," said Polly, as she and Jasper sorted the +pins in the little wooden tray Candace kept for the purpose. "How many +red ones you will have, Jasper--see--fifteen; well, they're prettier +than the others." + +"Ef little Miss had come wid you," said Candace, emerging from the folds +of a chintz curtain that divided the shop from the bedroom, "she'd 'a' +seen my doll I made for her. Land! but it's a beauty." + +"Oh, Candace!" exclaimed Polly, dropping the big pin she held, and +allowing it to roll off the counter to the floor. "What a pity we didn't +bring her! Do let us see the doll." + +"She's a perfec' beauty!" repeated Candace in satisfaction, "an' I done +made her all myself fer de little Miss," and she dodged behind the +curtain again, this time bringing out a large rag doll with surprising +black bead eyes, a generous crop of wool on its head, and a red worsted +mouth. + +"Dat's my own hair," said Candace, pointing to the doll's head with +pride, "so I know it's good; an' ain't dat mouf pretty?" + +"Oh, Candace!" exclaimed Polly, seizing the doll, and skillfully evading +the question, "what a lovely dress--and the apron is a dear"-- + +"Ain't it?" said Candace, her black face aglow with delight. "Ole Miss +gimme dat yeller satin long ago, w'en I belonged to her befo' de war. +An' dat yere apun was a piece of ole Miss's night-cap. She used to have +sights of 'em, and dey was all ruffled like to kill, an' made o' tambour +work." + +Polly had already heard many times the story of Madame Carroll's night- +caps, so she returned to the subject of the doll's beauty as a desirable +change. + +"Do you want us to take this to Phronsie?" she asked. "Jasper, won't she +be delighted?" + +"Land, no!" cried Candace, recovering the doll in alarm; "I'd never +sleep a week o' nights ef I didn't put dat yere doll into dat bressed +child's arms." + +"Then I'll tell Phronsie to come over to-morrow," said Polly. "Shall I, +Candace?" + +"Yes," said Candace, "you tell her I got somefin' fer her; don't you +tell her what, an' send her along." + +"All right," said Jasper. "Just imagine Phronsie's eyes when she sees +that production. Candace, you've surpassed yourself." + +"You go 'long!" exclaimed Candace, in delight, and bestowing a gentle +pat of deprecation on his shoulder, "'tain't like what I could do; but +la! well, you send de bressed chile along, and mabbe she'll like it." + +"Jasper, we'll stop at Helen's now," said Polly as the two hurried by +the tall iron fence, that, lined with its thick hedge, shut out the +Fargo estate from vulgar eyes, "and get Phronsie; she'll be ready to +come home now; it's nearly luncheon time." + +"All right," said Jasper; so the two ran over the carriage drive to a +side door by which the King family always had entree. + +"Is Phronsie ready to come home?" asked Polly of the maid. "Tell her to +hurry and get her things on; we'll wait here. Oh, Jasper!" turning to +him, "why couldn't we have the club next week, Wednesday night?" + +"Miss Mary," said the maid, interrupting, "what do you mean? I haven't +seen Miss Phronsie to-day." + +Polly whirled around on the step and looked at her. + +"Oh! she's upstairs in the nursery, playing with Helen, I suppose. +Please ask her to hurry, Hannah." + +"No, she isn't, Miss Mary," said Hannah. "I've been sweeping the nursery +this morning; just got through." She pointed to her broom and dustpan +that she had set in a convenient corner, as proof of her statement. + +"Well, she's with Helen somewhere," said Polly, a little impatiently. + +"Yes; find Helen, and you have the two," broke in Jasper. "Just have the +goodness, Hannah, to produce Helen." + +"Miss Helen isn't home," said Hannah. "She went to Greenpoint yesterday +with Mrs. Fargo to spend Sunday." + +"Why," exclaimed Polly in bewilderment, "Mamsie said she told Phronsie +right after breakfast that she could come over here." + +"She hasn't been here," said the maid positively. "I know for certain +sure, Miss Mary. Has she, Jane?" appealing to another maid coming down +the hall. + +"No," said Jane. "She hasn't been here for ever so many days." + +"Phronsie played around outside probably," said Jasper quickly; "anyway, +she's home now. Come on, Polly. She'll run out to meet us." + +"Oh, Jasper! do you suppose she will?" cried Polly, unable to stifle an +undefinable dread. She was running now on frightened feet, Jasper having +hard work to keep up with her, and the two dashed through the little +gate in the hedge where Phronsie was accustomed to let herself through +on the only walk she was ever allowed to take alone, and into the house +where Polly cried to the first person she met, "Where's Phronsie?" to be +met with what she dreaded, "Gone over to Helen Fargo's." + +And now there was indeed alarm through the big house. Not knowing where +to look, each fell in the other's way, quite as much concerned for Mr. +King's well-being; for the old gentleman was reduced to such a state by +the fright that the entire household had all they could do to keep him +in bounds. + +"Madame is not to come home to luncheon," announced Hortense to Mrs. +Whitney in the midst of the excitement. "She told me to tell you that de +Mees Taylor met her at de modiste, and took her home with her." + +Mrs. Whitney made no reply, but raised her eyes swollen with much +crying, to the maid's face. + +"Hortense, run as quickly as possible down to Dr. Fisher's office, and +tell him to come home." + +"Thomas should be sent," said Hortense, with a toss of her head. "It's +not de work for me. Beside I am Madame's maid." + +"Do you go at once," commanded Mrs. Whitney, with a light in her blue +eyes that the maid never remembered seeing. She was even guilty of +stamping her pretty foot in the exigency, and Hortense slowly gathered +herself up. + +"I will go, Madame," with the air of conferring a great favor, "only I +do not such t'ings again." + + + + +XVII + +PHRONSIE IS FOUND + + +"I am glad that you agree with me." Mrs. Chatterton bestowed a +complacent smile upon the company. + +"But we don't in the least agree with you," said Madame Dyce, her stiff +brocade rustling impatiently in the effort to put her declaration before +the others, "not in the least." + +"Ah? Well, you must allow that I have good opportunities to judge. The +Pepper entanglement can be explained only by saying that my cousin's +mental faculties are impaired." + +"The rest of the family are afflicted in the same way, aren't they?" +remarked Hamilton Dyce nonchalantly. + +"Humph! yes." Mrs. Chatterton's still shapely shoulders allowed +themselves a shrug intended to reveal volumes. "What Jasper Horatio King +believes, the rest of the household accept as law and gospel. But it's +no less infatuation." + +"I'll not hear one word involving those dear Peppers," cried Madame +Dyce. "If I could, I'd have them in my house. And it's a most +unrighteous piece of work, in my opinion, to endeavor to arouse +prejudice against them. It goes quite to my heart to remember their +struggles all those years." + +Mrs. Chatterton turned on her with venom. Was all the world arrayed +against her, to take up with those hateful interlopers in her cousin's +home? She made another effort. "I should have credited you with more +penetration into motives than to allow yourself to be deceived by such a +woman as Mrs. Pepper." + +"Do give her the name that belongs to her. I believe she's Mrs. Dr. +Fisher, isn't she?" drawled Livingston Bayley, a budding youth, with a +moustache that occasioned him much thought, and a solitary eyeglass. + +"Stuff and nonsense! Yes, what an absurd thing that wedding was. Did +anybody ever hear or see the like!" Mrs. Chatterton lifted her long +jeweled hands in derision, but as no one joined in the laugh, she +dropped them slowly into her lap. + +"I don't see any food for scorn in that episode," said the youth with +the moustache. "Possibly there will be another marriage there before +many years. I'm sweet on Polly." + +Mrs. Chatterton's face held nothing but blank dismay. The rest shouted. + +"You needn't laugh, you people," said the youth, setting his eyeglass +straight, "that girl is going to make a sensation, I tell you, when she +comes out. I'm going to secure her early." + +"Not a word, mind you, about Miss Polly's preferences," laughed Hamilton +Dyce aside to Miss Mary. + +"'Tisn't possible that she could be anything but fascinated, of course," +Mary laughed back. + +"Of course not. The callow youth knows his power. Anybody else in favor +of the Peppers?" aloud, and looking at the company. + +"Don't ask us if we like the Peppers," cried two young ladies +simultaneously. "They are our especial and particular pets, every one of +them." + +"The Peppers win," said Hamilton Dyce, looking full into Mrs. +Chatterton's contemptuous face. "I'm glad to record my humble self as +their admirer. Now"-- + +"Well, pa!" Mary could not refrain from interrupting as her father +suddenly appeared in the doorway. + +"I can't sit down," he said, as the company made way for him to join +them. "I came home for some important papers. I suppose you have heard +the trouble at the Kings? I happened to drop in there. Well, Dyce," +laying his hand on that gentleman's chair, "I scarcely expected to see +you here to-day. Why aren't you at the club spread?" + +"Cousin Horatio! I suppose he's had a paralytic attack," interrupted +Mrs. Chatterton, with her most sagacious air. + +"What's the trouble up there?" queried Mr. Dyce, ignoring the question +thrust at him. + +"It's the little beauty--Phronsie," said Mr. Taylor. + +"Nothing's happened to that child I hope!" cried Madame Dyce, paling. + +"Now, Mr. Taylor, you are not going to harrow our feelings by telling us +anything has harmed that lovely creature," exclaimed the two young +ladies excitedly. + +"Phronsie can't be found," said Mr. Taylor. + +"Can't be found!" echoed all the voices, except Mrs. Chatterton's. She +ejaculated "Ridiculous!" + +Hamilton Dyce sprang to his feet and threw down his napkin. "Excuse me, +Miss Taylor. Come, Bayley, now is the time to show our devotion to the +family. Let us go and help them out of this." + +Young Bayley jumped lightly up and stroked his moustache like a man of +affairs. "All right, Dyce. Bon jour, ladies." + +"How easily a scene is gotten up," said Mrs. Chatterton, "over a naughty +little runaway. I wish some of the poor people in this town could have a +tithe of the attention that is wasted on these Peppers," she added +virtuously. + +Madame Dyce turned uneasily in her seat, and played with the almonds on +her plate. "I think we do best to reserve our judgments," she said +coolly. "I don't believe Phronsie has run away." + +"Of course she has," asserted Mrs. Chatterton, in that positive way that +made everybody hate her to begin with. "She was all right this morning +when I left home. Where else is she, if she hasn't run away, pray tell?" + +Not being able to answer this, no one attempted it, and the meal ended +in an uncomfortable silence. + +Driving home a half-hour later, in a cab summoned for that purpose, Mrs. +Chatterton threw off her things, angry not to find Hortense at her post +in the dressing-room, where she had been told to finish a piece of +sewing, and not caring to encounter any of the family in their present +excitement, she determined to take herself off upstairs, where "I can +kill two birds with one stone; get rid of everybody, and find my box +myself, because of course that child ran away before she got it." + +So she mounted the stairs laboriously, counting herself lucky indeed in +finding the upper part of the house quite deserted, and shutting the +lumber-room door when she was well within it, she proceeded to open the +door of the closet. + +"Hortense didn't tell me there was a spring lock on this door," she +exclaimed, with an impatient pull. "Oh! good heavens." She had nearly +stumbled over Phronsie Pepper's little body, lying just where it fell +when hope was lost. + +"I have had nothing to do with it," repeated Mrs. Chatterton to herself, +following Mr. King and Jasper as they bore Phronsie downstairs, her +yellow hair floating from the pallid little face. "Goodness! I haven't +had such a shock in years. My heart is going quite wildly. The child +probably went up there for something else; I am not supposed to know +anything about it." + +"Is she dead?" cried Dick, summoned with the rest of the household by +Mrs. Chatterton's loud screams, and quite beside himself, he clambered +up the stairs to get in every one's way. + +Mrs. Chatterton, with an aimless thrust of her long jeweled hands, +pushed him one side. And Dick boiled over at that. + +"What are you here for?" he cried savagely. "You don't love her. You +would better get out of the way." And no one thought to reprove him. + +Polly was clinging to the post at the foot of the stairs. "I shall die +if Phronsie is dead," she said. Then she looked at Mother Fisher, +waiting for her baby. + +"Give her to me!" said Phronsie's mother, holding out imperative arms. + +"You would better let us carry her; well put her in your bed. Only get +the doctor." Mr. King was almost harsh as he endeavored to pass her. But +before the words were over his lips, the mother held her baby. + +"Mamsie," cried Polly, creeping over to her like a hurt little thing, "I +don't believe but that she'll be all right. God won't let anything +happen to our Phronsie. He couldn't, Mamsie." + +Dr. Fisher met them at the door. Polly never forgot the long, slow +terror that clutched at her heart as she scanned his face while he took +the child out of the arms that now yielded up their burden. And +everything turned dark before her eyes--Was Phronsie dead? + +But there was Mamsie. And Polly caught her breath, beat back the +faintness, and helped to lay Phronsie on the big bed. + +"Clearly I have had nothing to do with it," said Mrs. Chatterton to +herself, stumbling into a room at the other end of the hall. But her +face was gray, and she found herself picking nervously at the folds of +lace at her throat. "The child went up there, as all children will, to +explore. I shall say nothing about it--nothing whatever. Oh! how is +she?" grasping blindly at Jasper as he rushed by the door. + +"Still unconscious"-- + +"Stuff and--oh! well," muttering on. "She'll probably come to. Children +can bear a little confinement; an hour or two doesn't matter with them-- +Hortense!" aloud, "bring me my sal volatile. Dear me! this is telling on +my nerves." She caught sight of her face in the long mirror opposite, +and shivered to see how ghastly it was. "Where is the girl? Hortense, I +say, come here this instant!" + +A maid, summoned by her cries, put her head in the door. "Hadn't you +better go into your own room, Mrs. Chatterton?" she said, in pity at the +shaking figure and blanched face. + +"No--no," she sharply repulsed her. "Bring Hortense--where is that +girl?" she demanded passionately. + +"She's crying," said the maid, her own eyes filling with tears. "I'll +help you to your room." + +"Crying?" Madame Chatterton shrieked. "She's paid to take care of me; +what right has she to think of anything else?" + +"She says she was cross to Phronsie once--though I don't see how she +could be, and--and--now that she's going to die, she"--and the maid +burst into tears and threw her apron over her face. + +"Die--she shan't! What utter nonsense everybody does talk in this +house!" Madame Chatterton seized her arm, the slender fingers tightening +around the young muscles, and shook her fiercely. + +The maid roused by her pain out of her tears looked in affright into the +gray face above her. "Let me go," she cried. "Oh! madame, you hurt me." + +"Give me air," said Madame Chatterton, her fingers relaxing, and making +a great effort not to fall. "Help me over to the window, and open it, +girl"--and leaning heavily on the slight figure, she managed to get +across the room. + +"There--now," drawing a heavy breath as she sank into a chair and thrust +her ashen face out over the sill, "do you go and find out how the child +is. And come back and tell me at once." + +"Madame, I'm afraid to leave you alone," said the girl, looking at her. + +"Afraid? I'm not so old but that I can take care of myself," said Mrs. +Chatterton with a short laugh. "Go and do as I tell you," stamping her +foot. + +"Still unconscious"-- + +Would no one ever come near her but this detestable maid, with her still +more detestable news? Mrs. Chatterton clutched the window casing in her +extremity, not feeling the soft springy air as she gasped for breath. +The maid, too frightened to leave her, crept into a corner where she +watched and cried softly. + +There was a stir in the household that they might have heard, betokening +the arrival of two other doctors, but no word came. And darkness settled +upon the room. Still the figure in the window niche held to its support, +and still the maid cried at her post. + +As the gray of the twilight settled over the old stone mansion, Phronsie +moved on her pillow. + +"Dear mouse,"--the circle of watchers around the bed moved closer,-- +"I'll go away when some one comes to open the door." + +"Hush!" Dr. Fisher put his hand over the mother's lips. + +"Don't please bite me very hard. I won't come up again to your house. +Oh! where's Grandpapa?" + +Old Mr. King put his head on his hands, and sobbed aloud. + +The little white face moved uneasily. + +"Grandpapa always comes when I want him," in piteous tones. + +"Father," said Jasper, laying a hand on the bowed shoulders, "you would +better come out. We'll call you when she comes to herself." + +But Mr. King gave no sign of hearing. + +A half-hour ticked slowly away, and Phronsie spoke again. "It's growing +dark, and I suppose they will never come. Dear mouse"--the words died +away and she seemed to sleep. + +"I shall not tell," Mrs. Chatterton was saying to herself in the other +room; "what good could it do? Oh! this vile air is stifling. Will no one +come to say she is better?" And so the night wore on. + +As morning broke, Phronsie opened her eyes, and gave a weak little cry. +Polly sprang from her knees at the foot of the bed, and staggered toward +the child. + +"Don't!" cried Jasper, with a hand on her arm. + +"Let her alone," said Dr. Fisher quickly. + +"Oh, Polly!" Phronsie raised herself convulsively on the bed. "You did +come--you did!" winding her little arms around Polly's neck. "Has the +mouse gone?" + +"Yes, yes," said Polly as convulsively; "he's all gone, Phronsie, and I +have you fast; just see. And I'll never let you go again." + +"Never?" cried Phronsie, straining to get up further into Polly's arms. + +"No dear; I'll hold you close just as long as you need me." + +"And he won't come again?" + +"He can't Phronsie; because, you see, I have you now." + +"And the door will open, and I'll have Mamsie and dear Grandpapa?" + +"Yes, yes, my precious one," began Mr. King, getting out of the large +arm-chair into which they had persuaded him. + +"Don't do it. Stay where you are," said Dr. Fisher, stopping him half- +way across the room. + +"But Phronsie wants me; she said so," exclaimed old Mr. King hoarsely, +and trying to push his way past the doctor. "Why, man, don't stop me." + +Dr. Fisher planted his small body firmly in front of the old gentleman. +"You must obey me." + +Obey? When had Mr. King heard that word addressed to himself. He drew a +long breath, looked full into the spectacled eyes, then said, "All +right, Fisher; I suppose you know best," and went back to his arm-chair. + +"I'm so tired, Polly," Phronsie was saying, and the arms, Polly could +feel, were dropping slowly from her neck. + +"Are you, Pet? Well, now, I'll tell you what we'll do. Let us both go to +sleep. There, Phronsie, now you put your arms down, so"--Polly gave them +a swift little tuck under the bed-clothes--"and I'll get up beside you, +so"--and she crept on to the bed--"and we'll both go right to 'nid-nid- +nodland,' don't you know?" + +"You're sure you won't let me go?" whispered Phronsie, cuddling close, +and feeling for Polly's neck again. + +"Oh! just as sure as I can be," declared Polly cheerfully, while the +tears rained down her cheek in the darkness. + +"I feel something wet," said Phronsie, drawing back one hand. "What is +it, Polly?" + +"Oh! that," said Polly with a start. "Oh--well, it's--well, I'm crying, +Phronsie; but I'm so glad--oh! you don't know how glad I am, sweet," and +she leaned over and kissed her. + +"If you're glad," said Phronsie weakly, "I don't care. But please don't +cry if you are not glad, Polly." + +"Well, now we're fixed," said Polly as gaily as she could. "Give me your +hand, Pet. There, now, good-night." + +"Good-night," said Phronsie. Polly could feel her tucking the other hand +under her cheek on the pillow, and then, blessed sound--the long quiet +breathing that told of rest. + +"Oh! better, is she?" Mrs. Chatterton looked up quickly to see Mrs. +Whitney's pale face. "Well, I supposed she would be. I thought I'd sit +here and wait to know, since you were all so frightened. But I knew it +wouldn't amount to much. Now, girl," nodding over to the maid still in +the corner, "you may get me to bed." And she stretched her stiff limbs, +and held out her hand imperatively. + +"It was very fortunate that I did not tell," she said, when the slow +passage to her own apartments had been achieved. "Now if the child will +only keep still, all will be well." + + + + +XVIII + +THE GIRLS HAVE POLLY AGAIN + + +"Phronsie shall have a baked apple this morning," said Mother Fisher, +coming into the sunny room where Phronsie lay propped up against the +pillows. + +"Did Papa-Doctor say so?" asked Phronsie, a smile of supreme content +spreading over her wan little face. + +"Yes, he did," said her mother; "as nice an apple, red and shiny as we +could find, is downstairs baking for you, Phronsie. When it's done, +Sarah is to bring it up." + +"That will be very nice," breathed Phronsie slowly. "And I want my +little tea-set--just the two cups and saucers--and my own little pot and +sugar-bowl. Do let me, Mamsie, and you shall have a cup of milk with +me," she cried, a little pink color stealing into either cheek. + +"Yes, yes, child," said Mother Fisher. "There, you mustn't try to lean +forward. I'll bring the little table Grandpapa bought, so;" she hurried +over across the room and wheeled it into place. "Now isn't that fine, +Phronsie?" as the long wing swung over the bed. "Did you ever see such a +tea-party as you and I'll have?" + +"Breakfast party, Mamsie!" hummed Phronsie; "isn't that just lovely?" +wriggling her toes under the bed-clothes. "Do you think Sarah'll ever +bring that apple?" + +"Yes, indeed--why, here she is now!" announced Mrs. Fisher cheerily. +"Come in, Sarah," as a rap sounded on the door. "Our little girl is all +ready for that good apple. My! what a fine one." + +"Bless honey's heart!" ejaculated Sarah, her black face shining with +delight. "Ain't he a beauty, though?" setting down on the table-wing a +pink plate in the midst of which reposed an apple whose crackling skin +disclosed a toothsome interior. "I bring a pink sasser so's to match his +insides. But ain't he rich, though!" + +"Sarah," said Phronsie, with hungry eyes on the apple, "I think he is +very nice indeed, and I do thank you for bringing him." + +"Bless her precious heart!" cried Sarah, her hands on her ample hips, +and her mouth extended in the broadest of smiles. + +"Do get me a spoon, Mamsie," begged Phronsie, unable to take her gaze +from the apple. "I'm so glad he has a stem on, Sarah," carefully picking +at it. + +"Well, there," said Sarah, "I had the greatest work to save that stem. +But, la! I wouldn't 'a' brung one without a stem. I know'd you'd want it +to hold it up by, when you'd eat the most off." + +"Yes, I do," said Phronsie, in great satisfaction fondling the stem. + +"And here's your spoon," said her mother, bringing it. "Now, child, +enjoy it to your heart's content." + +Phronsie set the spoon within the cracked skin, and drew it out half- +full. "Oh, Mamsie!" she cried, as her teeth closed over it, "do just +taste; it's so good!" + +"Hee-hee!" laughed Sarah, "I guess 'tis. Such works as I had to bake dat +apple just right. But he's a beauty, ain't he, though?" + +Phronsie did not reply, being just at that moment engaged in conveying a +morsel as much like her own as possible, to her mother's mouth. + +"Seems to me I never tasted such an apple," said Mother Fisher, slowly +swallowing the bit. + +"Did you, now?" cried Sarah. + +Downstairs Polly was dancing around the music-room with three or four +girls who had dropped in on their way from school. + +"Give me a waltz now, Polly," begged Philena. "Dear me, I haven't had a +sight of you hardly, for so long, I am positively starved for you. I +don't care for you other girls now," she cried, as the two went whirling +down the long room together. + +"Thank you, Miss Philena," cried the others, seizing their partners and +whirling off too. + +"I feel as if I could dance forever," cried Polly, when Amy Garrett +turned away from the piano and declared she would play no more--and she +still pirouetted on one foot, to come up red as a rose to the group. + +"Look at Polly's cheeks!" cried Amy. + +"You've been a white little minx so long," said Alexia, putting a fond +arm around Polly; "I went home and cried every day, after I would steal +around the back way to see how Phronsie was"-- + +"Won't Phronsie be downstairs soon?" asked Amy. + +"I don't know," said Polly. "Papa-Doctor is going to be dreadfully +careful of her, that she doesn't get up too soon." + +"Say, Polly," cried another girl, "don't you have to take a lot of pills +and stuff, now that Dr. Fisher is your father?" + +Polly threw back her head and laughed merrily. It sounded so strangely +to her to hear the sound echoing through the room so long silent, that +she stopped suddenly. + +"Oh, girls! I can't hardly believe even yet that Phronsie is almost +well," she cried. + +"Well, you'd better," advised Alexia philosophically, "because she is, +you know. Do laugh again, Polly; it's good to hear you." + +"I can't help it," said Polly, "Cathie asked such a funny question." + +"Cathie's generally a goose," said Alexia coolly. + +"Thank you," said Cathie, a tall girl, with such light hair and sallow +face that she looked ten years older than her fourteen summers. "I +sometimes know quite as much as a few other people of my acquaintance," +she said pointedly. + +"I didn't say but that you did," said Alexia composedly. "I said you +were generally a goose. And so you are. Why, everybody knows that, +Cath." + +"Come, come, girls, don't fight," said Polly. "How can you when Phronsie +is getting better? Alexia didn't mean anything, Cathie." + +"Yes, she did," declared Cathie with a pout; "she's always meaning +something. She's the hatefullest thing I ever saw!" + +"Nonsense!" said Polly, with a gay little laugh. "She says perfectly +dreadful things to me, and so I do to her, but we don't either of us +mind them." + +"Well, those are in fun," said Cathie; "that's a very different matter"-- + +"So you must make these in fun," said Polly. "I would if I were you." +But she drew away from Alexia's arm. + +"Polly, don't be an idiot and fight with me," whispered Alexia in her +ear. + +"Go away," said Polly, shaking her off. + +"Polly, Polly, I'll say anything if you won't look like that. See here, +Cathie, let's make up," and she ran over, seized the tall girl by the +waist and spun her around till she begged to stop. + +"Is that your way of making up?" cried Cathie, when she had the breath +to speak. + +"Yes; it is as good as any other way. It spins the nonsense out of you. +There!" with a last pat on the thin shoulder, she left her, and ran back +to Polly. + +"It's all done," she cried. "I'm at peace with the whole world. Now +don't look like an ogre any longer." + +"Phronsie's actually hungry now all the time," confided Polly in a glow, +"and we can't get enough to satisfy her." + +"Good--good!" cried the girls. + +"I'm going to send her some of my orange jelly," declared Alexia. "I'll +make it just as soon as I go home. Do you think she will like it, +Polly?" she asked anxiously. + +"Yes, I do believe she will," said Polly, "because she loves oranges +so." + +"Well, I shan't make any old orange jelly," cried Cathie, her nose in +the air. "Faugh! it's insipid enough!" + +"But 'tisn't when it's made the way Alexia makes it," said Polly, +viewing in alarm the widening of the breach between the two. "I've eaten +some of hers, and it's too splendid for anything." + +"I don't know anything about hers, but all orange jelly I have tasted is +just horrid. I hate it! I'm going to make almond macaroons. They're +lovely, Polly." + +"Oh! don't, Cathie," begged Polly in distress. + +"Why not, pray tell," whirling on one set of toes. "You needn't be afraid +they won't be good. I've made them thousands of times." + +"But she couldn't eat them," said Polly. "Just think, almond macaroons! +Why, Papa-Doctor would"-- + +"Now I know the doctor makes you take perfectly terrible things, and +won't let you eat anything. And macaroons are the only things I can +make. It's a shame!" and down sat Cathie in despair on an ottoman. + +"What's the matter?" Dr. Fisher put his head in at the doorway, his +spectacled eyes sending a swift glance of inquiry around. + +"O dear me!" exclaimed Cathie in a fright, jumping up and clutching the +arm of the girl next to her. "Don't let Polly tell him what I said-- +don't." + +"Polly won't tell," said the girl, with a superb air; "don't you know +any better, Cathie Harrison, you goose, you!" + +To be called a goose by two persons in the course of an hour was too +much for Cathie's endurance, and flinging off the girl's arm, she cried +out passionately, "I won't stay; I'm going home!" and rushed out the +door. + +Dr. Fisher turned from a deliberate look at the girl's white cheeks, as +she ran past, to the flushed ones before him. + +"I'm very sorry that anything unpleasant has happened. I dropped in to +tell you of a little surprise, but I see it's no time now." + +"Oh, Papa-Doctor!" cried Polly, flying up to him from the center of the +group, "it was nothing--only"-- + +"A girl's quarrel is not a slight thing, Polly," said little Dr. Fisher +gravely, "and one of your friends has gone away very unhappy." + +"Oh! I know it," said Polly, "and I'm so sorry." + +"We can't any of us help it," said Alexia quickly. "Cathie Harrison has +the temper of a gorilla--so there, Dr. Fisher." + +Dr. Fisher set his spectacles straight, and looked at Alexia, but he did +not even smile, as she hoped he would do. "I can't help it," she said, +tracing the pattern of the carpet with the toe of her boot, "she makes +us all so uncomfortable, oh! you can't think. And I wish she'd stay home +forever." + +Still no answer from the doctor. He didn't act as if he heard, but +bowing gravely, he withdrew his head and shut the door. + +"O dear, dear!" cried Alexia, when they had all looked at each other a +breathing space. "Why didn't he speak? I'd much rather he'd scold like +everything than to look like that. Polly, why don't you say something?" + +"Because there isn't anything to say." Polly got no further, and turned +away, suspiciously near to tears. Was this the first meeting with the +girls to which she had looked forward so long? + +"To think of that Cathie Harrison making such a breeze," cried Alexia +angrily; "a girl who's just come among us, as it were, and we only let +her in our set because Miss Salisbury asked us to make things pleasant +for her. If it had been any one else who raised such a fuss!" + +Meantime Dr. Fisher strode out to the west porch, intending to walk down +to his office, and buttoning up his coat as he went along. As he turned +the angle in the drive, he came suddenly upon a girl who had thrown +herself down on a rustic seat under a tree, and whose shoulders were +shaking so violently that he knew she was sobbing, though he heard no +sound. + +"Don't cry," said the little doctor, "and what's the matter?" all in the +same breath, and sitting down beside her. + +Cathie looked up with a gasp, and then crushed her handkerchief over her +eyes. "Those girls in there are perfectly horrid." "Softly, softly," +said Dr. Fisher. + +"I can't--help it. No matter what I say, they call me names, and I'm +tired of it. O dear, dear!" + +"Now see here," said the doctor, getting up on his feet and drawing a +long breath. "I'm on my way to my office; suppose you walk along with me +a bit and tell me all about it." + +Cathie opened her mouth, intending to say, "Oh! I can't"--instead, she +found herself silent, and not knowing how, she was presently pacing down +the drive by the doctor's side. + +"Polly Pepper!" exclaimed Alexia, as a turn in the drive brought the two +figures in view of the music-room windows, "did you ever see such a +sight in your life? Cathie is walking off with Dr. Fisher! There isn't +anything her tongue won't say!" + +"Did you tell Polly?" cried Jasper, a half-hour later, putting his head +into Dr. Fisher's office. "Oh! beg pardon; I didn't know you were busy, +sir." + +"Come in," said the doctor, folding up some powders methodically. "No, I +didn't tell Polly." + +"Oh!" said Jasper, in a disappointed tone. + +"I hadn't a fair chance"-- + +"But she ought to know it just as soon as it's talked of," said Jasper, +fidgeting at a case of little vials on the table. "Oh! beg pardon again. +I'm afraid I've smashed that chap," as one rolled off to the floor. "I'm +no end sorry," picking up the bits ruefully. + +"I have several like it," said the doctor kindly, and settling another +powder in its little paper. + +"There were a lot of girls with Polly when I looked in upon her on my +way out. But we'll catch a chance to tell her soon, my boy." + +"Oh! I suppose so. A lot of giggling creatures. How Polly can stand +their chatter, I don't see," cried Jasper impatiently. + +"They've been shut off from Polly for some time, you know," said Dr. +Fisher quietly. "We must remember that." + +"Polly doesn't like some of them a bit better than I do," said Jasper +explosively, "only she puts up with their nonsense." + +"It's rather a difficult matter to pick and choose girls who are in the +same classes," said the doctor, "and Polly sees that." + +"Don't I know it?" exclaimed Jasper, in an astonished tone. "Dear me, +Dr. Fisher, I've watched Polly for years now. And she's always done so." +He stopped whirling the articles on the office table, and bestowed a +half-offended look on the little physician. + +"Softly, softly, Jasper," said Dr. Fisher composedly. "Of course you've +used your eyes. Now don't spoil things by saying anything, but let Polly +'go her own gait,' I beg of you." Then he turned to his powders once +more. + +"She will, anyway," declared Jasper. "Whatever she makes up her mind to +do, Polly does that very thing." + +"Not a bad characteristic," laughed the doctor. + +"I should say not." + +"Now when I come up home for dinner, you and I will find Polly, and tell +her the good news. If she's with a lot of those silly girls, I'll--I'll +tear her off this time." Dr. Fisher glared so fiercely as he declared +this determination that Jasper laughed outright. + +"I thought no one was to disturb Polly's good intentions in that line," +he cried. + +"Well, there's an end to all things, and patience ceases to be a virtue +sometimes." + +"So I've thought a good many times, but I've borne it like a man." +Jasper drew himself up, and laughed again at the doctor's face. + +"Oh! you go along," cried Dr. Fisher, his eyes twinkling. "I'll meet you +just before dinner." + +"All right," as Jasper rushed off. + +Dr. Fisher jumped to his feet, pushing aside the litter of powder +papers, and bottles, and ran his fingers through the shock of gray hair +standing straight on his head. + +"Yes, yes," he muttered, walking to the window, "it will be a good thing +for Polly, now I tell you, Adoniram." He always preferred to address +himself by his first name; then he was sure of a listener. "A vastly +good thing. It's quite time that some of the intimacies with these silly +creatures are broken up a bit, while the child gains immensely in other +ways." He rubbed his palms gleefully. "Oh! good-morning, good-morning!" + +A patient walking in, looked up at the jolly little doctor. "I wish I +could laugh like that," he ejaculated, his long face working in the +unusual effort to achieve a smile. + +"You would if you had a gay crowd of children such as I have," cried the +little doctor proudly. "Why, man, that's better than all my doses." + +"But I haven't the children," said the patient sourly, and sitting down +with a sigh. + +"I pity you, then," said Dr. Fisher, with the air of having been a +family man for years. "Well, besides owning the Peppers, I'm going off +with them to"--there he stopped, for before he knew it, the secret was +well-nigh out. + + + + +XIX + +PHRONSIE IS WELL AGAIN + + +But Polly was not to be told yet. When Papa Fisher walked in to dinner, +the merry party around the oak table were waiting over the ices and +coffee for his appearance. + +"Oh, Papa Fisher!" cried Polly in dismay, turning from one of Alexia's +sallies, and dropping her spoon. "Now you're all tired out--too bad!" + +Mother Fisher flushed up, and set her lips closely together. Ben looked +disapproval across the board, and Polly knew that the wrong thing had +been said. + +"Oh! I didn't mean--of course you must take care of the sick people," +she said impulsively. + +"Yes, I must," said Dr. Fisher wearily, and pushing up the shock of gray +hair to a stiffer brush over his brow. "That's what I set out to do, I +believe." + +"But that's no reason why you should tire yourself to death, and break +down the first year," said Mr. King, eyeing him sharply. "Zounds, man, +that isn't what I brought you up from the country for." + +Dr. Fisher looked into his wife's eyes and smiled. "I believe you +brought me," the smile said. But he kept his tongue still. + +"And you must get accustomed to seeing suffering that you can't help. +Why, man alive, the town's full of it; you can't expect to stop it +alone." + +"I'll do what I can to help," said the little doctor between his teeth, +and taking a long draught of the coffee his wife put by his plate. "I +suppose there's no objection to that. Now, that's good," smacking his +lips in a pleased way. + +"Of course not, if you help in the right way," said old Mr. King +stoutly, "but I'll wager anything that you're picking up all sorts of +odd jobs among the poor, that belong to the young doctors. Your place is +considerably higher, where you can pick and choose your patients." + +Dr. Fisher laughed--an odd little laugh, that along with its pleasant +note, carried the ring of a strong will. + +"Oh! well, you know, I'm too old to learn new ways," he said. "Better +let me wag on at the old ones." + +Mr. King gave an exclamation of disapproval. "It's lucky your time is +short," he said grimly, and the secret was nearly out! + +"Phronsie is coming downstairs to-morrow, isn't she?" asked Jasper +quickly, over to the doctor. + +"Oh! no, indeed, I think not," answered Mr. King before Dr. Fisher had +time to reply. "She would better wait a day or two longer. Isn't that +so, Doctor?" at last appealing to him. + +"I don't agree with you," the little doctor drew off his attention from +his plate. "You see she has regained her strength remarkably. Now the +quicker she is in the family life again, the better for her." + +"Oh, good! good!" cried Polly, delighted at the safe withdrawal from the +precipice of dangerous argument. "Alexia, now you must help us think up +something to celebrate her coming downstairs." + +"Not so fast, Polly." The little doctor beamed at her in a way +surprising to see after the morning's affair. "Phronsie won't be ready +for any celebration before next week. Then I think you may venture." + +Alexia pouted and played with her spoon. + +"O dear!" cried Dick dolefully, "what's the reason we must wait a whole +week, pray tell?" + +"Because Father Fisher says so," replied Ben across the table; "that's +the principal reason--and it doesn't need any more to support it"-- + +"Well, I tell you," broke in Polly in her brightest way, "let us think +up perfectly splendid things. It's best as it is, for it will take us a +week to get ready." + +"I shall get her a new doll," declared Mr. King. The rest shouted. "Her +others must be quite worn out." + +"What could you get her," cried Mr. Whitney, "in the way of a doll? Do +tell us, for I really do not see." + +"Why, one of those phonograph dolls, to be sure," cried Mr. King +promptly. + +"Are they on sale yet?" asked Jasper. "I thought they had not perfected +them enough for the market." + +"I think I know where one can be bought," said his father. "They must be +perfected--it's all nonsense that I can't find one if Phronsie wants it! +Yes, she shall have a phonograph doll." + +"That will be perfectly elegant," exclaimed Polly, with sparkling eyes. +"Won't Phronsie be delighted when she hears it talk?" + +"She ought to have a Punch and Judy show," said Mrs. Whitney, "she's +always so pleased with them, father." + +Mr. King pushed away his coffee-cup, and pulled out his note-book. + +"'Punch and Judy,' down that goes," he said, noting it after "phonograph +doll." "What else?" + +"Can't we have some of those boys up from the Orphan Asylum?" asked +Polly, after a minute in which everybody had done a bit of hard +thinking. "Phronsie loves to hear them sing when she goes there. Oh! +they are so cunning." + +"She'll want to give them her best toys and load them down with all her +possessions. You see if she doesn't," warned Jasper. + +"Well, she won't give away her new doll, anyway," cried Polly. + +"No, she never gives away one of the dolls you've given her, father," +said Mrs. Whitney slowly, "not a single one. I tried her one day, asking +her to give me one to bestow on a poor child, and she quite reproached +me by the look in her brown eyes. I haven't asked her since." + +"What did she say?" asked Mr. King abruptly. + +"'I can't, Auntie; dear Grandpapa gave them to me himself.' Then she ran +for her savings bank, and poured out the money in my lap. 'Let's go out +and buy the poor child a doll,' she begged, and I really had to do it. +And there must be at least two hundred dolls in this house." + +"Two hundred dolls!" cried Alexia in astonishment, and raising her +hands. + +"Why, yes; father has been bringing Phronsie dolls for the last five +years, with the greatest faithfulness, till her family has increased to +a painful extent." + +"O dear me!" cried Alexia, with great emphasis. "I should think they'd +be under foot in every room." + +"Well, indeed they're not," said Polly; "she keeps them up in her +playroom." + +"And the playroom closet," said Mrs. Whitney, "that is full. I peeped in +there yesterday, and the dolls are ranged according to the times when +father gave them to her." + +"And the baby-house is just crowded," laughed Jasper. "I know, because I +saw her moving out her chairs and tables to make room." + +"O dear me!" exclaimed Alexia again, for want of something else to say. + +"I just hate dolls," exploded Dick. "Faugh! how can girls play with +them; they're so silly. And Phronsie always has something to do for +hers, so she can't come when I want her to. I wish they were burned up," +he added vindictively. + +Mr. King rubbed his forehead in a puzzled way. "Perhaps she has enough," +he said at last. "Yet what shall I give her if I don't buy a doll?" + +"I'd give her the phonograph one, father," said Mrs. Whitney, "anyway." + +"Yes, of course; but after that, what shall I do?" + +He looked so troubled that Mrs. Whitney hastened to say, "Oh, well, +father! you know when you are abr"--and the secret Was nearly out for +the second time! + +But they were saved by the appearance of Alexia's father, who often +dropped in on the edge of the dinner hour, for a second cup of coffee. + +The next morning Phronsie was waiting for Grandpapa King, who insisted +that no one else should carry her downstairs, the remainder of the +household in various stages of delight and expectation, revolving around +her, and curbing their impatience as best they might, in hall and on +staircase. + +"Oh, Grandpapa! do hurry," begged Dick, kicking his heels on the stairs. + +"Hush, Dicky boy," said mamma. "Grandpapa can't come till his agent is +gone. Don't you hear them talking in the library?" + +"Well I wish Mr. Frazer would take himself off; he's a nuisance," +declared the boy. "He's been here a whole hour." + +"Here comes Grandpapa!" announced Polly gleefully, from a station nearer +the library. "Hush, now, Mr. Frazer's going!" + +The library door opening at this announcement, and a few sentences +charged with business floating up the staircase, the bustle around +Phronsie became joyfully intense. + +"Mamsie, don't you think she ought to have a shawl on?" cried Polly +anxiously, running over the stairs. "She's been shut up so long!" + +"No," said Mother Fisher. "Doctor told me particularly not to bundle her +up. It was the last thing he said before he went to his office." + +"Well," said Polly with a sigh, "then there isn't absolutely anything +more to do for her. Why doesn't Grandpapa come?" + +"You are worse than Dicky," said Mrs. Fisher with a little laugh. "Dear +me, Polly, just think how old you are." + +Phronsie stood quite still in the middle of the floor and folded her +hands. "I want to see Grandpapa all alone when he comes up," she said. + +"What for?" cried Polly, pausing in astonishment. + +"Do you want us all to go out, Phronsie?" asked her mother slowly. + +"Yes," said Phronsie, shaking her yellow head with great decision, +"please every single one go out, Mamsie. I want to see Grandpapa quite +alone." + +"All right, child," said Mrs. Fisher, with a look at Polly. So after a +little demur and consequent delay on the part of the others, the door +was closed and she was left standing all alone. + +Phronsie drew a long breath. "I wish Grandpapa would come," she said to +herself. + +"And so you wanted me, did you, dear?" cried Mr. King joyfully, as he +hurried in and closed the door carefully. "Well, now, see if I can guess +what you want to tell me." + +"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, standing quite still and turning a puzzled +face toward him, "I don't want to tell you anything; I want to ask you +something." + +"Well, well, dear, what is it?" Old Mr. King, not stopping for a chair, +leaned over her and stroked her yellow head. "Now, then, look up, and +ask me right off, Phronsie." + +"Must a person keep a promise?" asked Phronsie, "a really and truly +promise, Grandpapa?" + +"Yes, yes," said the old gentleman with great abruptness, "to be sure +one must, Phronsie. To be sure. So now if any one has promised you +anything, do you make him stick to it. It's mean enough to break your +word, child." + +Phronsie drew a long breath. + +"That's all, Grandpapa," she said, and lifting up her arms; "now take me +downstairs, please." She laid a cool little cheek against his, as he +raised her to his shoulder. + +"Remember what I say, Phronsie," laughed Mr. King, his mind more intent +on the delightful fact that he was carrying down the longed-for burden +to the family life, than on what he was saying, "and if any one has +promised you anything, keep him up sharp to pay you. I verily believe it +is that scamp Dick. Here goes!" and reaching the door he threw it wide. +"Forward, march!" + +"Well, is the important conference over?" asked Polly, with a keen look +at them both. + +Mrs. Fisher's eyes did their duty, but she said nothing. + +"Yes, indeed," declared Mr. King, marching on gaily. "Now clear the way +there, all you good people. Here, you Dick, drumming your heels, go +ahead, sir." + +"I'm glad enough to," shouted Dick, racing down the remainder of the +stairs. "Halloo, Phronsie," waving his hand at her, "three cheers and a +tiger! Bother! Here comes Mrs. Chatterton." + +Which was quite true. To every one's astonishment the door of that +lady's apartment opened slowly, disclosing her in new morning wrapper, +preparing to join the cavalcade. + +"Good morning, Cousin Eunice," cried Mr. King gaily. He could be merry +with any one this day. "Come on, this is a festal occasion, you see; +Phronsie's going downstairs for the first time. Fall into line!" + +"I'm not able to go down," said Mrs. Chatterton, coming slowly out into +the hall, "but I'll stand here and see the parade." + +"Bully!" exploded Dick softly, peering up from the foot of the stairs. + +Phronsie looked over Mr. King's shoulder at her as she was borne down +the stairs, and, putting out her hand, "I'm all well now," she said. + +"Yes, I see," said Mrs. Chatterton. Then she pulled up her white shawl +with a shiver. "It's rather cold here," she said; "after all, I believe +I must get back to my room." + +Nobody noticed when she crept back, the hilarity now being so great +below stairs. + +"I certainly am losing ground," she muttered, "every little thing +affects me so. I'll step into Bartram's office next time I go down town +and set that little matter straight, since I've made up my mind to do +it. It never would do to let him come to the house. Horatio would +suspect something to see my lawyer here, and the whole household imagine +I was going to die right off. No, no; I must go there, that's clear. +Then if it's attended to, I'll live all the longer, with nothing on my +mind." + +Phronsie, meanwhile, was going around from room to room in a pleased +way, and touching different objects gently "Everything's new, isn't it, +Polly," she said at last, "when you stay upstairs? Oh! there's my +kittens in the basket," pointing to a bisque vase on the table. + +"Yes," said Polly; "Mamsie brought it in here. And we've some flowers; +Alexia sent them over. They're out in the back hall; we saved them for +you to put in yourself." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Phronsie, "that's so good in you, Polly." + +"Don't stop now," cried Dick in disgust. "Faugh! you can fix flowers any +time. Come out into the dining-room--and you'll see something you'll +like." + +Phronsie smothered a sigh, and turned slowly away from the kittens +waiting in their basket for Alexia's flowers. "Come on!" shouted Dick, +seizing her hand. "You never can guess what it is, in all this world." + +"Is it a new dog?" asked Phronsie fearfully, whose memory of Dick's +latest purchase was not altogether happy. + +"No," said Dick, pulling her on, "better than that." + +"Don't hurry her so," said Polly. "What have you got, Dick?" + +"Now, do you mind, sir," cried Jasper, "else well stop your pretty +plan." + +"I won't hurry her," said Dick, slackening his gait. "Well, here we +are," opening the dining-room door. "Why, Jane has let it out!" + +Phronsie fell back a step at this and tried to cover her feet with her +gown, searching the floor for the "it." + +"Lookout!" cried Dick suddenly. "There he goes!" And something whirred +over Phronsie's head. + +"Oh! what is it?" she cried, tumbling into Jasper's arms and clasping +his neck. "Oh! oh!" + +"Why, it's a swallow," cried Dick, in the babel that ensued, "a +beautiful one, too. I've just caught him, and I made Jane let me bring +it in here to surprise you," he added proudly. + +"Well, you've succeeded," cried Jasper, holding Phronsie close. "There, +there, child, it's all right. It's a bird, Phronsie, and he's gone +upstairs." + +"He'll frighten my dolls," cried Phronsie in new alarm, hanging to +Jasper's neck. "Oh! do let us go upstairs, and tell them he's only a +bird." + +"Run along, Dick, and catch your old bird," cried Jasper, "and clear out +with him--quick now!" + +"He's the best thing there is in this house," cried Dick, going over the +back stairs two at a time. "Girls are so silly." + +"Bring him down," said Polly, moving along to the foot, "and I'll show +him to Phronsie, and tell her about him. Then she'll like him, Dick." + +"I'll like him, Dick," echoed Phronsie, "if he doesn't frighten my +dolls." + +This episode taking the family life to the rear of the house, no one +noticed that soft footsteps were passing through the open front door, +that Jane, who was sweeping the vestibule, had left ajar to run and tell +Dick that she had not let the bird out of the dining-room. So the +uninvited guest to the household let himself up easily to the scene of +his hopes--the location of the ladies' jewel-boxes. + + + + +XX + +THE SECRET + + +Mrs. Chatterton, standing by her toilet table, carefully examining her +wealth of gray hair to note the changes in its tint, was suddenly +surprised in the very act of picking out an obnoxious white hair, by a +slight noise in the further corner of the apartment. And dropping her +fingers quickly and turning away from the glass, she exclaimed, "How +dare you, Hortense, come in without knocking?" + +"If you make a noise I'll kill you," declared a man, standing in the +shadow of a portiere and watching her underneath a slouched black hat. +There was a slight click that caused the listener's nerves to thrill. +But her varied life had brought her nothing if not self-control, and she +coolly answered, "If you want my money, say so." + +"Not exactly money, ma'am," said the man, "for I don't suppose you have +much here. But I'll thank you to hand over that there box of diamonds." +He extended the other hand with its dingy fingers toward a large ebony +jewel-case elaborate with its brass hinges, and suggestive of double +locks, on a corner of the table. + +"If you are determined to take it, I suppose I must give it to you," +said Mrs. Chatterton, with evident reluctance handing the box +designated, very glad to think she had but a few days before changed the +jewels to another repository to escape Hortense's prying eyes. In making +the movement she gave a sweeping glance out the window. Should she dare +to scream? Michael was busy on the lawn, she knew; she could hear his +voice talking to one of the under gardeners. + +"See here, old lady," warned the man, "you keep your eyes in the room. +Now then," his greedy glance fastened on the glittering gems on her +fingers, "I'll thank you to rip them things off." Dick, racing along the +further end of the hall after his bird with a "Whoop, la--I've almost +caught you," startling him, he proceeded to perform the service for +himself. + +"There he goes!" cried Dick, "in her room. Bother! Well, I must catch +him." So without the preamble of knocking, the boy dashed into the +dressing-room. The bird whizzing ahead of him, flashed between the drawn +folds of the portiere. + +"Excuse me," cried Dick, rushing in, "but my swallow--oh!" + +"Go back!" cried Mrs. Chatterton hoarsely, "you'll be killed." + +The bird flying over his head, and the appearance of the boy, +disconcerted the robber for one instant. He held the long white hand in +his, tearing off the rings. There was no chance for her to escape, she +knew, but she could save Dick. + +"Go back!" she screamed again. There was only a moment to think, but +Dick dashed in, and with a mighty spirit, but small fists, he flung +himself against the stalwart arms and shoulders. + +"O heavens!" screamed Mrs. Chatterton. "He's but a boy, let him go. You +shall have the rings. Help--help!" + +Dick, clutching and tearing blindly at whatever in the line of hair or +ragged garment he could lay hold of, was waging an unequal warfare. But +what he did was accomplished finely. And the bird, rushing blindly into +the midst of the contention, with whirrings and flappings indescribable, +helped more than an army of servants, to confuse the man. +Notwithstanding, it was soon over, but not before Mrs. Chatterton had +wrenched her fingers free, and grasped the pistol from its loose hold in +his other hand. The box under his arm fell to the floor, and Dick was +just being tossed to the other side of the room; she could hear him +strike the cheval-glass with a dull thud. + +"I can shoot as well as you," said Mrs. Chatterton, handling the pistol +deftly. "Make a noise, and I will." + +He knew it, by her eyes, and that she had taken good aim. + +"Where are you, Dick?" cried Polly's voice outside, and rapping at the +door. "Mrs. Chatterton, have you seen him?" + +"Come in," called Mrs. Chatterton, with firmest of fingers on the +trigger and her flashing eyes fastened upon the seamed, dirty face +before her. + +Polly threw wide the door. + +"We have a man here that we don't want," said Mrs. Chatterton. "I'll +take care of him till you get help. Hurry!" + +"Oh, Dick!" cried Polly in a breath, with a fearful glance at the boy +lying there. + +"I think he's all right, Polly." She dared say no more, for Dick had not +stirred. + +Polly clasped her hands, and rushed out almost into Jasper's face. "A +burglar--a burglar!" and he dashed into Mrs. Chatterton's room. + +"Don't interfere," said Mrs. Chatterton. "I'm a splendid markswoman." + +"You needn't shoot," said the man sullenly. "I won't stir." + +"No, I don't think you will," said the gray-haired woman, her eyes +alight, and hand firm as a rock. "Well, here are the men." + +Jasper had seized a table-spread, and as Michael and the undergardeners +advanced, he went back of the robber, and cleverly threw it over his +head. It was easy to secure and bind him then. Polly rushed over to +Dick. + +"Turn the creature over and let us see how he looks," said Mr. King, +hurrying in as the last knot of the rope was made fast. The old slouched +hat had fallen off in the struggle, and the man's features came plainly +to view. "He's no beauty, and that's a fact." + +"I've seen that fellow round here for many a day," said Michael, giving +the recumbent legs a small kick. "Oncet he axed me ef we wanted ony +wourk done. I mind yees, yer see," with another attention from his +gardening boot. + +"I want to tie one rope," cried a voice. Dick opened his eyes, rubbed +them, and felt of his head. "I'm all right, Polly. I saw stars, but I've +got over it, I guess. Let me give him the last knot." He staggered +blindly to his feet. + +"I'll tie for you," said Jasper, "trust me, Dick's all right, only +stunned," he telegraphed to the rapidly increasing group. + +"Tell his mother so, do, somebody," said old Mr. King. + +"Well, Cousin Eunice, you've covered yourself with glory," he turned on +her warmly. She had thrown aside the pistol, and now sank into a chair. + +"Never mind," she waved it off carelessly, "I'll imagine the +compliments. Just now I want a glass of wine. Call Hortense, will you?" + +The man on the floor tried to raise his head. But he couldn't, so was +obliged to content himself with an ugly grin. + +"That bird has flown," he said. "I'll peep. She put me up to it; we was +goin' shares on the old lady's stuff." + +With that Mrs. Chatterton's spirit returned. She sprang from her chair, +and rushed around from bureau to closet to see the extent of her maid's +dishonesty. But beyond a few minor deficiencies of her wardrobe, there +was no robbery to speak of. Evidently Hortense had considered it unwise +to be burdened with much impedimenta. So the robber was hauled off to +justice, and Phronsie, coming wonderingly up the stairs, came softly in +upon them, in time to see Dick rush up to Mrs. Chatterton with a "You're +a brick!" before them all. + +After that, there was no more hope of keeping things quiet in the house +for Phronsie's sake. Meanwhile the bird, who had played no mean part in +the engagement, now asserted himself, and blindly rushed into capture. + +"Isn't he lovely!" cried Phronsie, tearing her gaze off from the +wonderful wings, as the swallow fluttered under the mosquito netting +speedily brought in. + +"Yes, his wings are," said Polly. "Oh, Dick! do tell over again how it +all happened." + +So Dick rehearsed once more as far as he knew the story, tossing off +lightly his part of it. + +"Your poor head, does it ache?" cried Polly, feeling of the big bump on +the crown. + +"No, not a bit," declared Dick, shaking his brown poll. "I'm glad I +didn't crack the glass." + +"That heavy plate?" cried Polly, looking over at the cheval-glass with +a shiver. + +Phronsie deserted the fascinating bird, and began to smooth Dick's head +with both hands. + +"Do let me bathe it," she begged. "I'll get the Pond's Extract." + +"No, I won't," said Dick. "It smells awfully, and I've had so much of it +for my leg. I'm all right, Phronsie. See his wings now--he's +stretching." + +But Phronsie was not to be diverted from her purpose. + +"I'll get bay rum," she said. "May I?" + +Dick made a wry face. "Worse and worse." + +"Cologne, then." + +"No, I hate it." + +"He doesn't want it bathed, Phronsie dear," said Polly. "Boys like to +get hurt, you know. 'Tisn't manly to be fixed up." + +Phronsie gave a sigh, which so went to Dick's heart, that he said, "All +right, bring on some water if you want to. But don't get any brown +paper; I had enough of that when I was a boy." + +And at the end of that exciting day, the secret came out, after all, in +rather a tame fashion. Dr. Fisher and Jasper met Polly in an angle of +the hall, as she was running upstairs after dinner for her schoolbooks. + +"Polly," asked the little doctor, putting both hands on her shoulders, +and looking into the brown eyes, "should you be willing to go abroad +with your mother and Phronsie, Mr. King and Jasper?" + +"Oh!" Polly gasped. "But you?" came in a later breath, "we couldn't +leave you," she cried loyally. + +"Well, I suppose I should go along too," said the little doctor, +enjoying her face. + +"Why, Jasper Elyot King!" cried Polly, slipping out from under the +doctor's palms, and seizing the two hands extended, she began to spin +around as in the olden days, "did you ever, ever hear of anything so +perfectly magnificent! But Ben and Joel and Davie!" and she paused on +the edge of another pirouette. + +Dr. Fisher made haste to answer, "Polly, Mrs. Whitney will take care of +them." And Jasper led her off into the dance again. + +"How can we ever leave the boys! Oh! I don't see," cried Polly, a bit +reproachfully, her hair blown over her rosy cheeks. As they danced +lightly down the long hall, Dr. Fisher leaned against a pillar, and +watched them. + +"Have to," said Jasper, guiding his partner deftly in the intricacies of +the chairs and statuary. "That's a good spin, Polly," he said, as they +brought up by the little doctor's side. + +"Lovely!" said Polly, pushing back her locks from the sparkling eyes. + +"I'm almost tempted to dance myself," said Dr. Fisher. "If I wasn't such +an old fellow, I'd try; that is, if anybody asked me." + +"I will," said Polly, laughing. "Come, Papa Fisher," holding out her +hand, "do give me the honor." + +"All right," said Dr. Fisher bravely. So Jasper took the deserted post +by the pillar, and whistled a Strauss waltz. Thereupon a most +extraordinary hopping up and down the hall was commenced, the two +figures bobbing like a pair of corks on a quivering water-surface. + +The doors opened, and several faces appeared, amongst the number Mrs. +Fisher's. + +"I couldn't help it," said the little doctor, coming up red and +animated, and wiping his forehead. His spectacles had fallen off long +since, and he had let them go. "It looked so nice to see Jasper and +Polly, I thought I'd try it. I didn't suppose I'd get on so well; I +really believe I can dance." + +"Humph!" laughed Mr. King, "it looks like it. Just see Polly." + +"Oh, Papa Fisher!" cried Polly with a merry peal in which Jasper, +unpuckering his lips from the Strauss effort, had joined, "we must have +looked"--Here she went off again. + +"Yes," said Jasper, "you did. That's just it, Polly, you did. Lucky you +two caperers didn't break anything." + +"Well, if you've got through laughing," observed Dr. Fisher, "I'll +remark that the secret is out." + +"Do you like it, Polly?" asked Mr. King, holding out his hand. "Say, my +girl?" And then before she could answer, he went on, "You see, we can't +do anything without a doctor on our travels. Now Providence has given us +one, though rather an obstinate specimen," he pointed to Father Fisher. +"And he wants to see the hospitals, and you want to study a bit of +music, and your mother wants rest, and Jasper and Phronsie and I want +fun, so we're going, that's all." + +"When?" demanded Polly breathlessly. + +"In a month." + + + + +XXI + +THE WHITNEYS' LITTLE PLAN + + +"I think it's a mean shame," cried Joel, on a high vindictive key. +"You've had burglars here twice, and I haven't been home." + +"You speak as if we appointed the meeting, Joe," said Ben with a laugh. + +"Well, it's mean, anyway," cried Joel, with a flash of his black eyes. +"Now there won't any come again in an age." + +"Goodness, I hope not," ejaculated Mr. King, lowering his newspaper to +peer over its top. + +"I'd have floored him," declared Joel, striking out splendidly from the +shoulder, "if I'd only have been here." + +"All very well," said Percy negligently, "but you weren't here," and he +laughed softly. + +"Do you mean to say that I couldn't have handled the burglar?" demanded +Joel belligerently, and advancing on Percy, "say? Because if you do, +why, I'll try a bout with you." + +"I didn't say anything what you could or couldn't do. I said you weren't +here, and you weren't. That's enough," and Percy turned his back on him, +thrust his hands in the pockets of his morning jacket and stalked to the +window. + +Van opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and gave a low +whistle. Joel, finding no enthusiasm for tales of his fighting prowess, +ran off to interview Dick on the old topic of the burglary and to obtain +another close account of its details. + +"To think Phronsie saw the other burglar five years ago, and now Dick +was on hand for this one--those two babies," he fumed, "and none of us +men around." + +"Percy," said Van, "come out in the hall, will you?" + +"What do you want?" asked Percy lazily. + +"Oh! you come along," cried Van, laying hold of his jacket. "See here," +dropping his voice cautiously, as he towed him successfully out, "let's +give Joe a chance to see a burglar; he wants to so terribly." + +"What do you mean?" asked Percy, with astonished eyes, his hands still +in his pockets. + +Van burst into a loud laugh, then stopped short. "It'll take two of us," +he whispered. + +"Oh, Van!" exclaimed Percy, and pulling his hands from their resting +places, he clapped them smartly together. + +"But we ought not, I really suppose," he said at last, letting them fall +to his sides. "Mamma mightn't like it, you know." + +"She wouldn't mind," said Van, yet he looked uneasy. "It would be a +great comfort to every one, to take Joe down. He does yarn so." + +"It's an old grudge with you," said Percy pleasantly. "You know he beat +you when you were a little fellow, and he'd just come." + +"As if I cared for that," cried Van in a dudgeon, "that was nothing. I +didn't half try; and he went at me like a country sledge-hammer." + +"Yes, I remember," Percy nodded placidly, "and you got all worsted and +knocked into a heap. Everybody knew it." + +"Do you suppose I'd pound a visitor?" cried Van wrathfully, his cheeks +aflame. "Say, Percy Whitney?" + +"No, I don't," said Percy, "not when 'twas Joe." + +"That's just it. He was Polly's brother." + +At mention of Polly, Percy's color rose, and he put out his hand. "Beg +pardon, Van," he said. "Here, shake, and make up. I forgot all about our +promise," he added penitently. + +"I forgot it, too," declared Van, quieting down, and thrusting out his +brown palm to meet his brother's. "Well, I don't care what you say if +you'll only go halves in this lark," he finished, brightening up. + +"Well, I will," said Percy, to make atonement. + +"Come up to our room, then, and think it out," cried Van gleefully, +flying over the stairs three at a bound. "Sh--sh! and hurry up!" + +Just then the door-bell gave a loud peal, and Jencks the butler opened +it to receive a box about two feet long and one broad. + +"For Miss Phronsie Pepper," said the footman on the steps, holding it +out, "but it's not to be given to her till to-morrow." + +"All right," said Jencks, taking it. "That's the sixth box for Miss +Phronsie that I've took in this morning," he soliloquized, going down +the hall and reading the address carefully. "And all the same size." + +"Ding-a-ling," Jencks laid the parcel quickly on one of the oaken chairs +in the hall, and hurried to the door, to be met by another parcel for +"Miss Phronsie Pepper: not to be given to her till to-morrow." + +"And the i-dentical size," he ejaculated, squinting at it as he went +back to pick up the first parcel, "as like as two peas, they are." + +Upstairs Polly was at work with happy fingers, Alexia across the room, +asking every third minute, "Polly, how does it go? O dear! I can't do +anything unless you look and see if it's right." + +And Polly would turn her back on a certain cloud of white muslin and +floating lace, and flying off to Alexia to give the necessary criticism, +with a pull here and a pat there, would set matters straight, presently +running back to her own work again. + +"You see," she said, "everything must be just right, for next to +Mamsie's wedding, this is to be the most important occasion, Alexia +Rhys, that we've ever known. We can't have anything too nice for +Phronsie's getting-well party." + +"That's so," said Alexia, twitching a pink satin bow on the handle of a +flower-basket. "O dear me! this bow looks like everything! I've tried +six different times to make it hang down quite careless and refined. And +just to provoke me, it pokes up like a stiff old thing in my face. Do +come and tie it, Polly." + +So Polly jumped up again, and laying determined fingers on the +refractory bow, sent it into a shape that Alexia protested was "too +lovely for anything." + +"Are you going to have a good-by party?" asked Alexia after a minute. + +"I suppose so," said Polly. "Grandpapa said I would better, but O dear +me, I don't believe I can ever get through with it in all this world," +and Polly hid her face behind a cloud of muslin that was slowly coming +into shape as a dress for one of Phronsie's biggest dolls. + +"It will be dreadful," said Alexia, with a pathetic little sniff, and +beginning on a second pink bow, "but then, you know, it's your duty to +go off nicely, and I'm sure you can't do it, Polly, without a farewell +party." + +"Yes," said Polly slowly, "but then I'd really rather write little notes +to all the girls. But I suppose they'll all enjoy the party," she added. + +"Indeed they will," declared Alexia quickly. "O dear me, I wish I was +going with you. You'll have a perfectly royal time. + +"I'm going to work hard at my music, you know," declared Polly, raising +her head suddenly, a glow on her round cheek. + +"Oh! well, you'll only peg away at it when you've a mind," said Alexia +carelessly, and setting lazy stitches. "Most of the time you'll be +jaunting around, seeing things, and having fun generally. Oh! don't I +wish I was going with you." + +"Alexia Rhys!" cried Polly in astonishment, and casting her needle from +her, she deserted the muslin cloud summarily. "Only peg away when I have +the mind?" she repeated indignantly. "Well, I shall have the mind most +of the time, I can tell you. Why, that's what I am going abroad for, to +study music. How can I ever teach it, if I don't go, pray tell?" she +demanded, and now her eyes flashed, and her hands worked nervously. + +"Oh! nonsense," cried Alexia, not looking at the face before her, and +going on recklessly, "as if that meant anything, all that talk about +your being a music-teacher, Polly," and she gave a little incredulous +laugh. + +Polly got out of her chair somehow, and stood very close to the fussing +fingers over the pink satin bow. "Do you never dare say that to me again," +she commanded; "it's the whole of my life to be a music-teacher--the very +whole." + +"Oh, Polly!" down went the satin bow dragging with it Alexia's spool of +silk and the dainty scissors. "Don't--don't--I didn't mean anything; but +you really know that Mr. King will never let you be a music-teacher in +all this world. Never; you know it, Polly. Oh! don't look like that; +please don't." + +"He will," said Polly, in a low but perfectly distinct voice, "for he +has promised me." + +"Well, he'll get out of it somehow," said Alexia, her evil genius urging +her on, "for you know, Polly, it would be too queer for any of his +family, and--and a girl of our set, to turn out a music-teacher. You +know, Polly, that it would." + +And Alexia smiled in the most convincing way and jumped up to throw her +arms around her friend. + +"If any of the girls in our set," said Polly grandly, and stepping off +from Alexia, "wish to draw away from me, they can do so now. I am to be +a music-teacher; I'm perfectly happy to be one, I want you all to +understand. Just as happy as I can possibly be in all this world. Why, +it's what I've been studying and working for, and how else do you +suppose I can ever repay dear Grandpapa for helping me?" Her voice +broke, and she stopped a minute, clasping her hands tightly to keep back +the rush of words. + +"Oh, Polly!" cried Alexia in dismay, and beginning to whimper, she tried +again to put her arm around her. + +"Don't touch me," said Polly, waving her off with an imperative hand. + +"Oh, Polly! Polly!" + +"And the rest of our set may feel as you do; then I don't want them to +keep on liking me," said Polly, with her most superb air, and drawing +off further yet. + +"Polly, if you don't stop, you'll--you'll kill me," gasped Alexia. "Oh, +Polly! I don't care what you are. You may teach all day if you want to, +and I'll help get you scholars. I'll do anything, and so will all the +girls; I know they will. Polly, do let me be your friend just as I was. +O, dear, dear! I wish I hadn't said anything--I wish I had bitten my +tongue off; I didn't think you'd mind it so much," and now Alexia broke +down, and sobbed outright. + +"You've got to say it's glorious to teach," said Polly, unmoved, and +with her highest air on, "and that you're glad I'm going to do it." + +"It's glo--glorious to teach," mumbled poor Alexia behind her wet +handkerchief. + +"And I'm glad you're going to do it," dictated Polly inflexibly. + +"I'm glad you're going to do it," echoed Alexia in a dismal tone. + +"Then I'll be your friend once more," consented Polly with a slow step +toward Alexia, "that is, if you never in all this world say such a +dreadful thing again, Alexia Rhys." + +"Don't ask me. You know I won't," promised Alexia, her spirits rising. +So Polly went over to her and set a kiss on her wet cheek, comforting +her as only Polly could, and before long the pink satin bow, with the +spool of silk hanging to it, and the scissors were found under the +table, and Polly attacked the muslin cloud with redoubled vigor, and the +girls' voices carried merry laughter and scraps of happy talk, and Mrs. +Chatterton stole out of the little reading-room next to them and shut +herself up in her own apartment. + +"Dear me, how fine that doll's gown is to be, Polly," exclaimed Alexia +after a bit. "Is the lace going on all around the bottom?" + +"Yes," said Polly, biting off her thread, and giving the muslin breadths +a little shake; "Felicie is tucking the flounce; then I shall have to +sew on the lace." + +"How many dolls are there to refurbish before to-morrow?" asked Alexia +suddenly. + +"Four--no, five," said Polly, rapidly counting; "for the one that +Grandpapa gave her Christmas before last, Celestine, you know, does need +a new waist. I forgot her. But that doesn't count the new sashes, and +the hair ribbons and the lace ruffles around the necks; I guess there +are almost fifty of them. Dear me, I must hurry," and she began to sew +faster yet. + +"What a nuisance all those dolls are," said Alexia, "they take up every +bit of your spare time." + +"That isn't the worst of it," said Polly. "Alexia, I don't know what we +shall do, for Phronsie works over them till she's quite tired out. You +ought to see her this morning." + +"She's up in the play-house at it now, I suppose," said Alexia, +"dressing every one of them for the party to-morrow." + +"Yes," said Polly, "she is." + +"Well, I hope no one will give her a doll to-morrow," said Alexia, "at +least no one but Mr. King. Of course he will." + +"Oh! no one else will," declared Polly cheerfully. "Of course not, +Alexia." + +And then Jencks walked in with his seven boxes exactly alike as to size, +and deposited them solemnly in a row on the blue and white lounge. "For +Miss Phronsie Pepper, and not to be opened till to-morrow, Miss Mary." + +"Polly," said Alexia in a stage whisper, and jumping up as Jencks +disappeared, to run over to the row, "do you suppose they are dolls?" + +"I shall die if they are," declared Polly desperately, and sitting quite +still. + +"They surely look like dolls on the very covers," said Alexia, fingering +the cords. "Would it be so very wrong to open one box, and just relieve +our suspense? Just one, Polly?" + +"No, no, don't," cried Polly sharply. "They belong to Phronsie. But O +dear me!" + +"And just think," said Alexia, like a Job's comforter, and looking over +at the clock, "it's only half-past eleven. Polly Pepper, there's time +for oceans more to come in yet." + +"It's perfectly horrid to get such a scrap of an outing," said Joel that +night, sprawling on the rug before the library fire, "only four days! +Why couldn't Mr. Marks be sick longer than that, if he was going to be +sick at all, pray?" + +"These four days will give you strength for your 'exams,' won't they, +Joe?" asked Van. + +Joel turned his black eyes on him and coolly said "Yes," then made a wry +face, doubled up a bit of paper, and aimed it at Van. + +Davie sighed, and looked up anxiously. "I hope Mr. Marks will come out +all right so that we can go back Monday." + +"I only hope he'll stay ill," said Joel affectionately. "'Tisn't safe +anyway for us to go back Monday. It may be typhoid fever, you know, +Mamsie," looking over at her. + +"They'll let us know soon enough if that's the case," said Mother Fisher +in the lamp-light over by the center-table. "No, I expect your letter +to-morrow will say 'Come Monday.'" + +"Well, it's a downright shame for us to be pulled off so soon," cried +Joel indignantly, sitting straight. + +"Think how soon the term ends, Joe," cried Polly, "then you have such a +long outing." She sighed as she thought of the separation to come, and +the sea between them. + +"That's nothing; only a dreadful little time--soon will be gone," +grunted Joel, turning his face to look at the brightly-leaping flames +the cool evening had made necessary. + +Ben glanced over at Polly. "Don't talk of the summer," he was going to +say, but stopped in time. Phronsie set her doll carefully in the corner +of the sofa, and went over to Joel. + +"Does your head ache often at school, Joel?" she asked, softly laying +her cool little palm on his stubby hair. + +"Yes," said Joel, "it does, awfully, Phronsie; and nobody cares, and +says 'Stop studying." + +A shout greeted this. + +"That's too bad," said Phronsie pityingly, "I shall just write and ask +Mr. Marks if he won't let you stop and rest when it aches." + +"'Twouldn't do any good, Phronsie," said Joel, "nothing would. He's a +regular old grinder, Marks is." + +"Mr. Marks," said Phronsie slowly, "I don't know who you mean by Marks, +Joel. And what is a grinder, please?" getting down on her knees to look +in his face. + +"And he works us boys so, Phronsie--you can't think," said Joel, +ignoring the question. + +"What is a grinder, Joel, please tell me," repeated Phronsie with gentle +persistence. + +"Oh! a grinder is a horrid buffer," began Joel impatiently. + +"Joel," said Mrs. Fisher, reprovingly. The fire in her black eyes was +not pleasant to look at, and after one glance, he turned back to the +blazing logs once more. + +"I can't help it," he muttered, picking up the tongs to poke the fire. + +"Don't ever let me hear that excuse from a son of mine," said Mother +Fisher scornfully. "Can't help it. I'd be master of myself, that's one +thing." + +Joel set the tongs back with an unsteady hand. They slipped and fell to +the hearth with a clang. + +"Mamsie, I didn't mean," he began, finding his feet. And before any one +could draw a long breath, he rushed out of the room. + +There was a dreadful pause. Polly clasped her hands tightly together, +and looked at her mother. Mrs. Fisher quietly put her sewing into the +big basket and got out of her chair. + +"Oh! what is the matter with Joey?" cried Phronsie, standing quite still +by the deserted hearth-rug. "Mamsie, do you suppose his head aches?" + +"I think it must," said Mrs. Fisher gravely. Then she went out very +quietly and they could hear her going up the stairs. + +With a firm step she went into her own room, and turned up the gas. The +flash revealed Joel, face downward on the broad, comfortable sofa. Mrs. +Fisher went over and closed the door, then came to his side. + +"I thought, my boy," she said, "that I should find you here. Now then, +tell mother all about it," and lifting his head, she sat down and took +it into her lap. + +"O dear!" cried Joel, burrowing deep in the comfortable lap, "O dear--O +dear!" + +"Now, that is silly, Joey," said Mother Fisher, "tell me at once what +all this trouble is about," passing her firm hands over his hot +forehead, and trying to look in his face. But he struggled to turn it +away from her. + +"In the first place I just hate school!" he exploded. + + + + +XXII + +JOEL + + +"Hate school?" cried Mother Fisher. "Oh, Joey! think how Ben wanted more +schooling, only he wouldn't take the chance when Mr. King offered it to +him because he felt that he must be earning money as soon as possible. +Oh, Joey!" + +That "Oh, Joey!" cut deeply. Joel winced and burrowed deeper under his +mother's fingers. + +"That's just it," he cried. "Ben wanted it, and I don't. I hate it, and +I don't want to go back." + +"Don't want to go back?" repeated Mrs. Fisher in dismay. + +"No, I don't. The fellows are always twitting me, and every one gets +ahead of me, and I'm everlastingly staying in from ballgames to make up +lessons, and I'd like to fire the books, I would," cried Joel with +venom. + +Mrs. Fisher said nothing, but the hands still stroked the brown stubby +head in her lap. + +"And nobody cares for me because I won't be smart like the others, but I +can't help it, I just hate school!" finished Joel in the same strain. + +"Joel," said Mrs. Fisher slowly, "if that is the case, I shall go down +to Mr. King and tell him that we, Father Fisher and I, Polly and +Phronsie, will not go abroad with him." + +Joel bolted upright and, putting down his two hands, brought his black +eyes to bear on her. + +"What?" + +"I shall go directly downstairs and tell Mr. King that Father Fisher and +I, Polly and Phronsie, will not go abroad with him," repeated his mother +slowly and distinctly while she looked him fully in the face. + +"You can't do that," said Joel in amazement. "He's engaged the state- +rooms." + +"That makes no difference," said Mrs. Fisher, "when a woman has a boy +who needs her, nothing should stand in the way. And I must stay at home +and take care of you, Joel." + +Joel sprang to his feet and began to prance up and down the floor. "I'm +big enough to take care of myself, mother," he declared, coming up to +her, to prance off again. + +"So I thought," said Mrs. Fisher composedly, "or I shouldn't have placed +you at Mr. Marks's school." + +"The idea, Mamsie, of your staying at home to take care of me," said +Joel excitedly. "Why, feel of that." He bared his arm, and coming up, +thrust it out for inspection. "Isn't that splendid? I do verily believe +I could whip any fellow in school, I do," he cried, regarding his +muscles affectionately. "If you don't believe it, just pinch them hard. +You don't mean it really, Mamsie, what you said, of course. The idea of +staying at home to take care of me," and he began to prance again. + +"I don't care how many boys you can whip," observed Mother Fisher +coolly, "as long as you can't whip your own self when you're naughty, +you're too weak to go alone, and I must stay at home." + +Joel stopped suddenly and looked at her. + +"And before I'd give up, a boy of thirteen, and beg to be taken away +from school because the lessons were hard, and I didn't like to study, +I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd go through creditably." Mrs. +Fisher sat straight now as an arrow in her corner of the sofa. "I've +said my say, Joel," she finished after a pause, "and now I shall go down +and tell Mr. King." + +"Mother," howled Joel, dashing across the room to her, "don't go! I'll +stay, I will. Don't say that again, about my having to be taken care of +like a baby. I'll be good, mother, and study." + +"Study doesn't amount to much unless you are glad of the chance," said +Mrs. Fisher sharply. "I wouldn't give a fig for it, being driven to it," +and her lips curled scornfully. + +Joel wilted miserably. "I do care for the chance," he cried; "just try +me, and see." + +Mrs. Fisher took his sunburnt face between her two hands. "Do you really +wish to go back to school, and put your mind on your books? Be honest, +now." + +"Yes, I do," said Joel, without winking. + +"Well, you never told me a lie, and I know you won't begin now," said +Mother Fisher, slowly releasing him. "You may go back, Joe; I'll trust +you." + +"Phronsie," said Jasper, as the sound of the two voices could be heard +in Mother Fisher's room, "don't you want to come into my den? I've some +new bugs in the cabinet--found a regular beauty to-day." + +Phronsie stood quite still just where Joel had left her; her hands were +clasped and tears were rolling slowly down her cheeks. "No," she said, +without looking at him, "Jasper, I don't." + +"Do come, Phronsie," he begged, going over to her, and holding out his +hand. "You can't think how nice the new one is, with yellow stripes and +two long horns. Come and see it, Phronsie." + +"No, Jasper," said the child quietly. Then in the next breath, "I think +Joey must be very sick." + +"Oh! Mamsie is taking care of him, and he'll soon be all right," broke +in Polly cheerily. "Do go with Jasper, Phronsie, do, dear." She took +hold of the clasped hands, and smiled up into the drooping face. + +But Phronsie shook her head and said "No." + +"If Grandpapa should come in and find her so 'twould be very dreadful!" +exclaimed Polly, looking over at the five boys, who in this sudden +emergency were knocked speechless. "Do let us all play some game. Can't +some one think of one?" + +"Let us play 'Twenty Questions,'" proposed Jasper brightly. "I'll begin +it, I've thought of something." + +"That's horrid," cried Van, finding his tongue, "none of us want to play +that, I'm sure." + +"I do," said David. "I think 'Twenty Questions' is always nice. Is it +animal, vegetable or mineral, Jasper?" + +"I'm sick of it. Do play something not quite as old as the hills, I +beg." + +"Well, you think of something yourself, old man," said Jasper, nodding +furiously at him. "Hurry up." + +"I'd rather have Polly tell a story than any game you could possibly +think of," said Van, going over to her, where she sat on the rug at +Phronsie's feet. "Polly, will you?" he asked wheedlingly. + +"Don't ask her to-night," interposed Jasper. + +"Yes, I shall. It's the only time we shall have," said Van, "before we +go back to school. Do, Polly, will you?" he begged again. + +"I can't think of the first thing," declared Polly, pushing back little +rings of brown hair from her forehead. + +"Don't try to think; just spin it off," said Van. "Now begin." + +"You're a regular nuisance, Van!" exclaimed Jasper indignantly. "Polly, +I wouldn't indulge him." + +"I know Phronsie wants a story; don't you, Phronsie?" asked Van +artfully, and running over to peer into her face. + +But to his astonishment, Phronsie stood perfectly still. "No," she said +again, "I don't want a story; Joey must be sick." + +"Jasper," cried Polly in despair, and springing up, "something must be +done. Grandpapa's coming; I hear him." + +"Phronsie," said Jasper, bending to speak into her ear, "do you know you +are making Polly feel very unhappy? Just think; the next thing I don't +know but what she'll cry." + +Phronsie unfolded her hands. "Give me your handkerchief, Polly," she +said, winking back the rest of the tears. + +"Now, there's a dear," cried Polly, pulling out her handkerchief and +wiping the wet, little face. None too soon; the door opened and Mr. King +came in. + +"Well--well--well!" he exclaimed, looking over his spectacles at them +all. "Playing games, hey?" + +"We're going to," said Ben and Jasper together. + +"No, Polly is going to tell a story," said Van loudly, "that is, if you +want to hear it, Grandpapa. Do say you do," he begged, going over to +whisper in his ear. + +"I want immensely to hear it!" declared the old gentleman, pulling up an +easy-chair to the fireside. "There now," sitting down, "I'm fixed. Now +proceed, my dear." + +Van softly clapped his hands. "Phronsie," Mr. King beckoned to her, and +then suggestively touched his knee, "here, dear." + +Phronsie scurried across the room to his side. "Yes, Grandpapa." + +"There, up she goes!" sang Mr. King, swinging her into position on his +lap. "Now then, Polly, my child, we are all ready for the wonderful +tale. Stay, where is Joel?" + +"Joel went upstairs a little while ago," said Jasper quickly. "Well, +now, Polly, do begin." + +"I'll tell how we went to buy Phronsie's shoes," said Polly, drawing up +an ottoman to Mr. King's side. "Now, boys, bring your chairs up." + +"Joel ought to know that you are going to tell a story, Polly," said Mr. +King. "One of you boys run out and call him at the foot of the stairs." + +"He's in Mamsie's room," said Ben. "I suppose when she gets through with +him, he'll come down." + +"Oh! ah!" said the old gentleman. "Well, Polly, then perhaps you would +better proceed." + +So Polly began on the never tiresome recital, how Phronsie fell down the +stairs leading from the kitchen to the "provision room" in the little +brown house, with the bread-knife in her hand; and how, because she cut +her thumb so that it bled dreadfully, mother decided that she could at +last have a pair of shoes bought especially for her very own self; and +how Deacon Brown's old horse and wagon were procured, and they all set +forth, except mother, and how they rode to town, and how the Beebes were +just as good as gold, and how the red-topped shoes fitted as if they +were made for Phronsie's feet, and how they all went home, and how +Phronsie danced around the kitchen till she was all tired out, and then +went to bed carrying the new shoes with her, and how she fell asleep +with-- + +"Why, I declare," exclaimed Polly, reaching this denouement in a +delightfully roundabout way, "if she isn't asleep now!" + +And indeed she was. So she had to be carried up to bed in the same old +way; only this time it was Jasper instead of Polly who held her. + +"Don't you believe we'd better put it off till some other night?" +whispered Percy to Van on the way upstairs to bed, the library party +having broken up early. "A fellow doesn't want to see a burglar on top +of the time Joel has had." + +"No, no," said Van; "it'll be good for him, and knock the other thing +out of his head, don't you see, Percy? I should want something else to +think of if I were Joel. You can't back out; you promised, you know." + +"Well, and I'll do it," said Percy testily. + +"It's no use trying to sleep," declared Joel, in the middle of the +night, and kicking the bed-clothes for the dozenth time into a roll at +the foot, "as long as I can see Mamsie's eyes. I'll just get up and +tackle that Latin grammar now. Whew! haven't I got to work, though! +Might as well begin at it," and he jumped out of bed. + +Stepping softly over to the door that led into David's little room, he +closed it carefully, and with a sigh, lighted the gas. Then he went over +to the table where his schoolbooks ought to have been. But instead, the +space was piled with a great variety of things--one or two balls, a +tennis racket, and a confusion of fishing tackle, while in front, the +last thing that had occupied him that day, lay a book of artificial +flies. + +Joel set his teeth together hard, and looked at them. "Suppose I shan't +get much of this sort of thing this summer," he muttered. "Here goes!" +and without trusting himself to take another look, he swept them all off +down to the floor and into a corner. + +"There," he said, standing up straight, "lie there, will you?" But they +loomed up in a suggestive heap, and his fingers trembled to just touch +them once. + +"I must cover up the things, or else I know I'll be at them," he said, +and hurrying over to the bed, he dragged off the cover-lid. "Now," and +he threw it over the fascinating mass, "I've GOT to study. Dear me, +where are my books?" + +For the next five minutes Joel had enough to do to collect his working +instruments, and when at last he unearthed them from the corner of his +closet where he had thrown them under a pile of boots, he was tired +enough to sit down. + +"I don't know which to go at first," he groaned, whirling the leaves of +the upper book. "It ought to be Latin--but then it ought to be algebra +just as much, and as for history--well there--here goes, I'll take them +as they come." + +With a very red face Joel plunged into the first one under his hand. It +proved to be the Latin grammar, and with a grimace, he found the page, +and resting his elbows on the table, he seized each side of his stubby +head with his hands. "I'll hang on to my hair," he said, and plunged +into his task. + +And now there was no sound in the room but his hard breathing, and the +noise he made turning the leaves, for he very soon found he was obliged +to go back many lessons to understand how to approach the one before +him; and with cheeks growing every instant more scarlet with shame and +confusion, the drops of perspiration ran down his forehead and fell on +his book. + +"Whew!" he exclaimed, "it's horribly hot," and pushing back his book, he +tiptoed over to the other window and softly raised it. The cool air blew +into his face, and leaning far out into the dark night, he drew in deep +breaths. + +"I've skinned through and saved my neck a thousand times," he reflected, +"and now I've got to dig like sixty to make up. There's Dave now, +sleeping in there like a cat; he doesn't have anything to do, but to run +ahead of the class like lightning--just because he"-- + +"Loves it," something seemed to sting the words into him. Joel drew in +his head and turned abruptly away from the window. + +"Pshaw! well, here goes," he exclaimed again, throwing himself into his +chair. "She said, 'I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd get through +creditably.'" Joel bared his brown arm and regarded it critically. "I +wonder how 'twould look all skin and bone," and he gave a short laugh. + +"But this isn't studying." He pulled down his sleeve, and his head went +over the book again. + +Outside, a bright blue eye applied to the keyhole, gave place to a +bright brown one, till such time as the persons to whom the eyes +belonged, were satisfied as to the condition of the interior they were +surveying. + +"What do you suppose he's doing?" whispered the taller figure, putting +his face concealed under a black mask, closely to the ear of the other +person, whose countenance was similarly adorned. + +"Don't know," whispered the second black mask. "He acts dreadfully +queer, but I suppose he's got a novel. So you see it's our duty to break +it up," he added virtuously. + +The taller figure shook his head, but as it was very dark on their side +of Joel's door, the movement was unobserved. + +"Well, come on," whispered the second black mask. "Are you ready?" + +Yes. + +"Come then." + +"O, dear, dear!" grunted Joel, "I'd rather chop wood as I used to, years +ago, to help the little brown house out," swinging his arms up over his +head. "Why"-- + +And he was left in darkness, his arms falling nervously to his side, +while a cautious step across the room made his black eyes stand out in +fright. + +"A burglar--a burglar!" flashed through his mind. He held his breath +hard and his knees knocked together. But Mamsie's eyes seemed to look +with scorn on him again. Joel straightened up, clenched his fist, and +every minute expecting to be knocked on the head, he crept like a cat to +the further corner, even in this extremity, grumbling inwardly because +Mr. King would not allow firearms. "If I only had them now!" he thought. +"Well, I must get my club." + +But there was no time to get it. Joel creeping along, feeling his way +cautiously, soon knew that there were two burglars instead of one in the +room, and his mind was made up. + +"They'll be after Grandpapa's money, sure," he thought. "I have got to +get out, and warn him." + +But how? that was the question. + +Getting down on all-fours, holding his breath, yet with never a thought +of danger to himself, he crept along toward the door leading into the +hall, then stopped and rested under cover of the heavy window drapery. +But as quick as a flash, two dark figures, that now, his eyes becoming +more accustomed to the darkness, he could dimly distinguish, reached +there before him, and the key clicking in the lock, Joel knew that all +hope from escape by that quarter was gone. + +Like a cat, he sprang to his feet, swung the drapery out suddenly toward +the figures, and in the next second hurled himself over the window-sill, +hanging to the edge, grasping the blind, crawling to the next window, +and so on and over, and down, down, by any friendly thing he could +grasp, to the ground. + +Two black masks hung over the deserted window-edge. + +"Joe--Joe! it's only we boys--Percy and Van. Joe--Joe!" + +"He'll be killed!" gasped Van, his face as white as Joel's robe +fluttering below them in his wild descent. "Stop him, Percy. Oh! do stop +him." + +Percy clung to the window-sill, and danced in distress. "Stop him!" he +was beyond uttering anything more. + +"Yes, oh, Joe! don't you see it's only Percy and Van?" cried Van +persuasively, and hanging out of the window to the imminent danger of +adding himself to Joel's company. + +Percy shoved him back. "He's 'most down," he said, finding his breath. +"Now we'll run downstairs and let him in." + +Van flew off from the window. "I'll go; it's my scrape," and he was +unlocking the door. + +"I'm the oldest," said Percy, hurrying to get there first. "I ought to +have known better." + +This made Van furious, and pushing Percy with all his might, he wriggled +out first as the door flew open, and not forgetting to tiptoe down the +hall, he hurried along, Percy behind him, to hear the noise of men's +feet coming over the stairs. + +Van tried to rush forward shouting, "Thomas, it's we boys--Percy and +Van." Instead, he only succeeded in the darkness, in stumbling over a +chair, and falling flat with it amid a frightful racket that drowned his +voice. + +Old Mr. King who had been awakened by the previous noise, and had rung +his burglar alarm that connected with Thomas's and Jencks's rooms in the +stable, now cried out from his doorway. "Make quick work, Thomas," and +Percy saw the gleam of a pistol held high in Thomas's hand. + +Up with a rush came bare feet over the back stairs; a flutter of +something white, and Joel sprang in between them. "It's Percy--it's +Percy!" he screamed, "don't you see, Thomas?" + +"I'm Percy--don't shoot!" the taller burglar kept saying without +intermission, while the flaring of candles and frightened voices, told +of the aroused household. + +"Make quick work, Jencks!" shouted Mr. King from his doorway, to add to +the general din. + +Thomas, whose blood was up, determined once for all to put an end to the +profession of burglary as far as his master's house was concerned, now +drew nearer, steadying his pistol and trying to sight the nearest +fellow. This proved to be Van, now struggling to his feet. + +Joel took one wild step forward. "Thomas--don't shoot! It's Van!" + +"Make quick work, Thomas!" called Mr. King. + +There was but a moment in which to decide. It was either Van or he; and +in an instant Joel had stepped in front of the pistol. + + + + +XXIII + +OF MANY THINGS + + +Van threw his arms around Joel. "Make quick work, Thomas," called Mr. +King from his doorway. The pistol fell from Thomas's hand. "I've shot +one of the boys. Och, murther!" he screamed. + +And everybody rushing up supposed it was Van, who was writhing and +screaming unintelligibly in the corner. + +"Oh! I've killed him," they finally made out. + +"Who--who? Oh, Van! who?" + +"Joey," screamed Van, bending over a white heap on the floor. "Oh! make +him get up. Oh! I've killed him." + +The mask was hanging by one end from his white face, and his eyes +protruded wildly. Up flew another figure adorned with a second black +mask. + +"No, no, it was I," and Percy rushed forward with an "Oh, Joel, Joel!" + +Somebody lighted the gas, that flashed suddenly over the terrified +group, and somebody else lifted the heap from the corner. And as they +did so, Joel stirred and opened his eyes. + +"Don't make such a fuss," he said crossly. One hand had gripped the +sleeve of his night-dress, trying to hold it up in a little wad on the +shoulder, the blood pouring down the arm. At sight of this, Van +collapsed and slid to the floor. + +"Don't frighten Mamsie," said Joel, his head drooping, despite his +efforts to hold it up. "I'm all right; nothing but a scratch. Ugh! let +me be, will you?" to Mr. Whitney and Jasper, who were trying to support +him. + +And Mother Fisher, for the first time since the children had known her, +lost her self-control. + +"Oh, Joey! and mother was cross to you," she could only sob as she +reached him. + +Polly, at a nod from the little doctor's night-cap and a few hurried +words, ran as in a dream for the case of instruments in his bedroom. + +"All right, Mamsie!" exclaimed Joel in surprise, and trying to stagger +to his feet. + +"Good heavens and earth!" cried old Mr. King, approaching. "What? oh! +it's monstrous--Joel!" + +"Och, murther!" Thomas sidled along the edge of the group, rolling +fearful eyes at them, and repeating over and over, "I've shot that boy-- +that boy!" + +All this occupied but an instant, and Joel was laid on his bed, and the +wound which proved to be only a flesh one, the ball cutting a little +furrow as it grazed the shoulder, was dressed, and everybody drew a long +breath. "Tell Van that I'm all right," Joel kept saying all the time. + +Polly undertook to do this. + +"Van--Van!" she cried, running out into the hall to lay a shaking hand +on his arm, where he lay on the floor. "Joel sent me to say that he is +all right." + +"Polly, I've killed him!" Van thrust his head up suddenly and looked at +her, with wild eyes. "I have--don't speak to me, or look at me. I've +killed Joel!" + +"Take off this dreadful thing," said Polly with a shiver, and kneeling +down, she seized the strings that tied the mask. "O dear! it's all in a +knot. Wait, I'll get the scissors," and she found her feet, and ran off +to her room. + +"Now you are all right;" he gave a little sob as the mask tumbled off. +"Oh! how could you?" she wanted to say, but Van's distress was too +dreadful for anything but comfort. + +"Don't you see," said Polly, sitting down on the floor and cuddling up +his head in her lap, "that Joel is really all right now? Suppose we +hadn't a Father Fisher who was a doctor, what should we do then?" and +she even managed a faint laugh. + +"O dear! but I've killed Joel." Van covered his face with the folds of +her flannel dress and wailed on. + +"Now, just see here, Van Whitney," said Polly, with the air of +authority, "I tell you that Joel is all right now. Don't you say that +again--not once more, Vanny." + +"But I have ki--I mean I saw Thomas shoot, and I couldn't stop him," +and Van writhed fearfully, ending with a scream "I've ki"--but Polly, +clapping her hand over his mouth, kept the words back. + +Meanwhile Percy had rushed out of the house. + +"Oh!" cried Polly, when this new alarm sprang up, and everybody was +running hither and thither to comfort him by the assurance that Joel was +not much hurt, "do, Uncle Mason and Jasper, let me go with you." + +"No, no, you stay here, Polly," cried Jasper, throwing wide the heavy +front door. "Brother Mason and I will find him. Don't worry, Polly." + +"I know I could help," said Polly, hanging over the stair-railing. "Oh! +do let me," she begged. + +"No, no, child," said Mr. Whitney, quickly. "Stay where you are, and +take care of the others. Now, then, Jasper, is Jencks ready with the +lantern?" + +"All right," said Jasper. "Come on." + +Polly, longing to fly to the window to watch, at least, the lantern's +twinkling light across the lawn, hurried off to comfort Aunt Whitney, +who at this new stage in the affairs, was walking her room, biting her +lips to keep from screaming the terror that clutched at her heart. + +"Oh, Polly!" she cried, "I'm so glad you've come. I should die if left +alone here much longer;" her soft hair floated down the white robe, and +the blue eyes were filled with tears. "Do tell me, don't you think they +will find Percy?" + +"Yes, indeed!" declared Polly, cuddling up to the little woman. "Oh, +Auntie! remember when Dicky's leg was broken." + +"But this is much worse," said Mrs. Whitney, sobbing, and holding close +to Polly's warm hand. + +"But we thought he was dead," and Polly gave a little shiver. + +"Don't--don't," begged Mrs. Whitney, clasping her hands; "Oh, Polly! +don't." + +"But he wasn't, you see, Auntie," Polly hurried on, "and so now you know +it will come out all right about Per--There! Oh! they've found him!" as +a shout from the lawn rang out. + +"Do you suppose it, Polly?" cried Mrs. Whitney, breathlessly. "Oh! do +run to the window and see!" + +So Polly ran to the window in the next room that overlooked that part of +the lawn where Mr. Whitney and Jasper were searching, and strained her +gaze up and down, and in every direction. + +"Have they? oh! have they?" cried Mrs. Whitney. "Oh, Polly! do tell me." + +"I don't see any of them," said Polly, listening eagerly for another +cry, "but I do believe they've found him." + +"Do come back," implored Mrs. Whitney; "there, now, don't go again, +Polly," as Polly hurried to her side, "but just hold my hand." + +"I will," said Polly, "just as tight as I can, Auntie." + +"Oh--oh! Percy is so much worse off than Joel," wailed Mrs. Whitney. +"Oh! to do such a thing, Polly!" she groaned. + +"They only meant it in fun," said Polly, swallowing hard the lump in her +throat, "don't let us talk about it, Auntie." + +"And Van," cried Mrs. Whitney, running on. "Oh! my poor, poor boys. Will +your mother ever forgive me, Polly?" + +"Oh, Auntie! don't talk so," said Polly tenderly; "and we both ought to +be out helping. There's Van, Auntie; just think how he feels." + +"I can't go near him," cried Mrs. Whitney in distress, "as long as he is +in Joel's room, for I can see your mother's eyes, Polly. It would kill +me to have her look at me." + +The door opened at this, and the trail of a long silken wrapper was +heard on the floor. + +"Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. Whitney, raising her head and looking at +the new-comer with as much anger as her gentle face could contain, "I +really cannot see you in my room to-night. Excuse me, but I am unstrung +by all that has occurred. Will you please not come in"-- + +"I thought I might sit with you," said Mrs. Chatterton. In the brief +interval since the arousing of the household, she had contrived to make +a perfect breakfast toilet, and she folded her hands over her handsome +gown. "Polly might then be with her mother. But if you don't wish me to +remain, I will go." + +"I do not need you," said Mrs. Whitney, decidedly, and she turned to +Polly again. + +Mrs. Chatterton moved away, and closed the door after her. + +"Auntie," said Polly, "she really wants to help you." + +"Polly, you needn't say anything about it," exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, like +many other gentle creatures, when roused, becoming unreasonably +prejudiced; "I cannot bear the sight of that woman. She has been here so +long, and is so intensely disagreeable to us all." + +Polly's eyes became very round, and she held her breath in astonishment. + +"Don't look so, child," said Mrs. Whitney at length, "you don't +understand, my dear. But you would if you were in my place"-- + +"She's sorry for it," said Polly, finding her tongue at last. + +"And father is nearly worn out with her," continued Mrs. Whitney. "And +now to come parading her attentions upon me, it"-- + +"Who--who?" Dicky, now that the excitement in Joel's room had died down, +had lost his relish for it, and he now pranced into Mrs. Whitney's room. +"Who, mamma?" + +"Mrs. Chatterton," said Mrs. Whitney unguardedly. "She has disagreeably +intruded herself upon me." + +"Has she been in here?" asked Dick in astonishment. + +"Yes; asking if she can sit with me," and Polly started at the look in +the usually soft blue eyes. + +"And you wouldn't let her?" asked Dick, stopping short and regarding his +mother curiously. + +"Of course not, Dicky," she made haste to say. + +"Then I think you did very wrong," declared Dick flatly. + +"Oh, Dick!" exclaimed Polly in consternation. + +"And you don't act like my mother at all," said Dick, standing quite +stiffly on his sturdy legs, and gazing at her with disapprobation. +"Didn't Mrs. Chatterton save my life," he exploded, "when the real +burglar was going for me? Say, didn't she?" he cried. + +"I have yet to find out that is the truth," said Mrs. Whitney, finding +her voice. "Oh, Dicky," she added, hurt that he should defend another, +worst of all, Mrs. Chatterton, "don't talk about her." + +"But I ought to talk about her," persisted Dick. "She saved me as much +as she could. Because she won't let anybody thank her, I like her more +myself. I'm going to stay with her." + +With that, he held his head high, and marched to the door. + +"Dick, Dick!" called his mother, "come back, dear." + +Dick slowly turned and made his way to her side, but he still regarded +her with disapproval. + +"Dick, I want you to go to Mrs. Chatterton's room, and say that I am +sorry I refused her offer to help, and that I would like to have her sit +with me. Remember, say I am sorry I refused her offer to help, Dicky." +She leaned forward and kissed her boy, her long, soft hair falling like +a veil around the two faces. + +Dick threw his arms around her neck. + +"Now, you're a brick!" he declared impulsively. "I'll bring the old +lady, and we'll both sit with you." + +So Polly was free to run back to Mamsie. On the way there she opened the +door of Phronsie's little room, just out of Father and Mother Fisher's. + +"How good it is that she sleeps through it all," said Polly, listening +to the regular breathing. Then she stole across the room and stood +beside the small bed. + +"She looks just as she did the night she took her new shoes to bed," +thought Polly; "one hand is over her head, exactly as it was then. Oh, +Phronsie! to think that you're to have no party to-morrow," and she +turned off with a sigh, went out, and closed the door. + +"Percy's here--all right!" cried Jasper, running over the stairs to meet +her at the top. + +His eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his face was torn and +bleeding. + +"Are you hurt?" cried Polly, feeling as if the whole family were bound +to destruction. "Oh, Jasper! did you fall?" + +"Nothing but a scratch. I was fool enough to forget the ledge, and +walked off for my pains"-- + +"Oh, Jasper!" cried Polly, with paling cheeks, "let me bathe it for you, +do;" her strength began to return at the thought of action, and she +sprang for a basin of water. + +"Nonsense. No, Polly!" cried Jasper, with a quick hand detaining her, +"it's nothing but a mere scratch, I tell you, but I suppose it looks +terribly. I'll go and wash it off. Run and tell his mother that Percy is +found." + +"Is he all right?" asked Polly fearfully, holding her breath for the +answer. + +"Sound as a nut," declared Jasper; "we found him streaking it down the +locust path; he said he was going to run off to sea." + +"Run off to sea!" repeated Polly. "Oh, Jasper!" + +"Well, he was so frightened, of course he didn't know what to say," +replied Jasper. "And ashamed, too. He didn't care to show his head at +home. I don't know as I blame him, Polly. Well, it's too bad about +Phronsie's party, isn't it?" added Jasper, mopping up his face as the +two went down the hall. + +"Yes," said Polly with a sigh, stopping at Mrs. Whitney's door, "but, +oh! think how happy we are now that Percy is safe, Jasper." + +"Still, it's too bad for Phronsie," repeated Jasper, looking back. + +But Joel flatly declared that the first one that even so much as hinted +that a single item of the arrangements for Phronsie's getting-well party +should be changed, he'd make it disagreeable as only he knew how, for +that one when he got up from his bed. "Yes, sir!" and he scolded, and +fretted, and fussed, and laid down the law so generally to all, not +excepting the doctor, that at last it was decided to let the party go +on. Then he lay back against the pillows quite exhausted, but with a +beatific face. + +"I should think you would be tired, Joe," exclaimed Jasper, "you've +bullied us so. Dear me! people ought to be angelic when they're sick, at +least." + +"If you'd had him to take care of as I did," observed Dr. Fisher, "you'd +know better; goodness me! the little brown house scarcely held him when +he was getting over the measles." + +"What's the use of being sick," said Joel reflectively, turning on his +pillow, "if you can't make people stand around, I'd like to know. Now +that point's settled about Phronsie's party, won't you all go out? I'd +like to speak to Father Fisher a moment." + +"You don't mean me, Joey?" said Mother Fisher at the head of the bed, +holding her boy's hand. + +"Yes; you, too, Mamsie," said Joel, giving her an affectionate glance, +"it's something that only the doctor and I are to know." + +"You're not hurt anywhere else, are you, Joey?" asked his mother, a +sudden alarm leaping to her black eyes. + +"Not a scratch," said Joel promptly. "I want to see Father Fisher about +something. Sometime you shall know, Mamsie." He gave her hand a sudden +pressure, then let it go. + +"Perhaps you would better step out, my dear," said the little doctor, +nodding to his wife. So Mrs. Fisher, smothering a sigh, went out +reluctantly. + +"All out?" asked Joel, trying to raise his head to see for himself. + +"Every soul," said Dr. Fisher. + +"Well, see here, will you," said Joel, pointing to the table, the +schoolbooks scattered as he had left them, "pack those things all away +in the closet on the shelf, you know, and put the rubbish on the floor +there, back on the table?" + +Dr. Fisher could not for his life, refrain from asking curiously, as he +did as requested, "Been having a pull at the books, eh, Joe?" + +"Um--um--maybe," said Joel, twisting uneasily. "Well, now, come here, +please, Father Fisher." + +The little man turned away from the table, with its sprawling array of +delightful things, to stand by the bedside. + +"You must get me well as soon as you can," said Joel confidentially. + +"All right; I understand," Dr. Fisher nodded professionally. + +"And whatever you say, don't let it be that I must be careful of my +eyes," said Joel. + +"All right; that is, if you get up quickly," agreed the doctor. + +"That's all," said Joel in great satisfaction. "Now, call Mamsie in and +the others." + +And in the morning, no one told Phronsie what had happened the night +before. She only knew that Joel was not very well, and was going to keep +his room; all her pleadings to do something for him being set one side +by Grandpapa's demands upon her instant attention whenever the idea +suggested itself to her. And so the time wore along till the party +began. + +Alexia was the first to arrive, her bowl of orange jelly in her hand, +and after her, a tall slight figure jumped from the carriage, her flaxen +hair streaming out in two pale braids. + +"I thought I'd pick Cathie up," said Alexia carelessly; "had to pass her +door, you know. O dear me, what perfectly dreadful times you had last +night, Polly Pepper." + +"I didn't bring macaroons," said Cathie, "as I really think that they +wouldn't be good for Phronsie. Besides, I've forgotten how to make them, +and our cook was cross and said I shouldn't come into her kitchen. But I +bought a doll for Phronsie; my mother said it would be a great deal more +sensible present," and she hugged the long box under her arm with great +satisfaction. + +"O dear! dear!" groaned Alexia, falling back with Polly as the three +raced along the hall, "she showed it to me in the carriage, and it's a +perfect guy, besides counting one more." + +But afflictions like this were small to Polly now, and although for the +next hour it rained dolls into Phronsie's puzzled hands, Polly helped +her to thank the givers and to dispose them safely on neighboring chairs +and tables and sofas. + +Mrs. Chatterton's was the pattern of old Mr. King's phonograph doll, at +which discovery he turned upon her with venom in his eye. + +"My gift to my little granddaughter," taking especial care to emphasize +the relationship, "has always been a doll, I suppose you knew that, +Cousin Eunice; and to try to procure one exactly like the one I have +purchased, is very presuming in you, to say the least." + +"And why may I not present a doll to Phronsie Pepper, if I care to, pray +tell?" demanded Mrs. Chatterton in a high, cold tone. + +"Why? because you have always showed a marked dislike for the child," +cried old Mr. King angrily, "that's why, Cousin Eunice." + +"Grandpapa--Grandpapa," said Phronsie, laying her hand on his arm. + +"And to parade any special affection, such as the presentation of a gift +indicates, is a piece of presumption on your part, I say it again, +Cousin Eunice." + +"Grandpapa!" said Phronsie again at his elbow. + +"Now, Phronsie," turning to her, "you are to take that doll," pointing +to a gorgeous affair reposing on the sofa, with Mrs. Algernon +Chatterton's card attached to it, "and go over to Mrs. Chatterton, and +say, very distinctly, 'I cannot accept this gift;' mind you say it +distinctly, Phronsie, that there may be no mistake in the future." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" cried Phronsie in dismay. + +"Yes, child; I know what is best for you. Take that doll, and do exactly +as I bid you." + +A dreadful pause fell upon the room. Polly clasped her hands, while +Alexia and the other girls huddled into a corner saying softly, "Oh! how +perfectly dreadful!" + +"No use to say anything to father when he looks like that," groaned +Jasper, when Polly besought him to try his influence, "his blood is up +now; he's borne a good deal, you know, Polly." + +"O dear, dear!" whispered Polly, back again, "just look at Mrs. +Chatterton's face, and at poor Phronsie's; can't you do something, +Jasper?" + +"I'm afraid not," said Jasper gloomily. "No; he's making her give it +back; see, Polly." + +"You'll know it's for the best," Mr. King was repeating as he led the +child to Mrs. Chatterton standing cold and silent at the end of the +room, "sometime, child, and then you'll thank me that I saved you from +further annoyance of this sort. There, Cousin Eunice, is your gift," +taking the doll from Phronsie's hand, and placing it in the long, +jeweled one. "My little granddaughter receives presents only from those +who love her. All others are unwarranted, and must be returned." + +Phronsie burst out tearfully, "She's sorry, Grandpapa, I know she is, +and she loves me now. Please let me keep the doll." + +But Mrs. Chatterton had left the room, the doll in her hand. + + + + +XXIV + +AWAY + + +And after that everybody had to be as gay as possible, to keep Phronsie's +sad little face from being flooded with tears. + +"Dear me!" exclaimed Jasper, "here comes Candace! Now what do you suppose +she has for you, Phronsie?" + +Candace sailed through the doorway with ample satisfaction with +everything and herself in particular. + +"Whar's little Miss?" she demanded, her turban nodding in all +directions, and her black eyes rolling from side to side. + +"There, Candace," said some one, "over in the corner with Jasper." + +"Oh! I see her," said Candace, waddling over to them. "Well, now, +Phronsie, seein' you couldn't come to me for somethin' I made 'xpressly +fer you, w'y, Candace has to come to you. See dat now, chile!" + +She unrolled the parcel, disclosing the wonderful doll adorned with +Candace's own hair, and "Ole Missus' ruffles," then stood erect, her +bosom swelling with pride and delight. + +"O my goodness me!" exclaimed Alexia, tumbling back after the first and +only glance, and nearly overturning Cathie who was looking over her +shoulder. "Polly Pepper, O dear me!" Then she sat down on the floor and +laughed till she cried. + +"Hush--hush!" cried Polly, running over to her, "do stop, Alexia, and +get up. She'll hear you, and we wouldn't hurt her feelings for the +world. Do stop, Alexia." + +"O dear me!" cried Alexia gustily, and holding her sides while she waved +back and forth; "if it had been--a--respectable doll, but that--horror! +O dear me!" + +"Stop--stop!" commanded Polly, shaking her arm. + +But Alexia was beyond stopping herself. And in between Candace's +delighted recital how she combed "de ha'r to take de curl out," and how +"ole Missus' ruffles was made into de clothes," came the peals of +laughter that finally made every one in the room stop and look at the +girls. + +"Candace, come into my 'den' and get a pattern for some new pins I want +you to make for me," cried Jasper, desperately dragging her off. + +"It's no use to lecture me," said Alexia, sitting straight as Candace's +feet shuffled down the hall, and wiping her face exhaustedly. "I know it +was dreadful--O dear me! Don't anybody speak to me, or I shall disgrace +myself again!" + +"Now, Phronsie, what do you suppose we are to do next?" + +Phronsie looked up into old Mr. King's face. + +"I don't know, Grandpapa," she said wonderingly. + +"Well, now, my dear, you've had Punch and Judy, and these nice +children," waving his hand to indicate the delegation from the orphan +asylum, "have sung beautifully for you. Now what comes next, Phronsie?" + +"I don't know, Grandpapa," repeated Phronsie. + +"When gifts become burdensome they no longer are kindnesses," said Mr. +King. "Now, Phronsie, I have found out--never mind how; little birds, +you now, sometimes fly around telling people things they ought to know. +Well, I have discovered in some way that my little girl has too many +children to care for." + +Here Phronsie's brown eyes became very wide. + +"And when there are too many children in the nest, Phronsie, why, they +have to go out into the world to try their fortunes and make other +homes. Now there are so many poor little girls who haven't any children, +Phronsie. Think of that, dear; and you have so many." + +Phronsie at this drew nearer and stole her hand into his. + +"Now what is to be done about it?" asked the old gentleman, putting his +other broad palm over her little one and holding it fast. "Hey, my pet?" + +"Can't we buy them some children?" asked Phronsie with warm interest. +"Oh, Grandpapa dear, do let us; I have money in my bank." + +"Phronsie," said the old gentleman, going to the heart of the matter at +once and lifting her to his lap, "I really think the time has come to +give away some of your dolls. I really do, child." + +Phronsie gave a start of incredulity and peered around at him. + +"I really do. You are going abroad to be gone--well, we'll say a year. +And your dolls would be so lonely without anything to do but to sit all +day and think of their little mother. And there are so many children who +would love them and make them happy." Now Mr. King's white hair was very +near the yellow waves floating over his shoulder, so that none but +Phronsie's ears caught the next words. "It's right, Phronsie dear; I'd +do it if I were you," he said in a low voice. + +"Do you want it, Grandpapa?" asked Phronsie softly. + +"I do, child; but not unless you are willing"-- + +"Then I do," declared Phronsie, sitting quite straight on his knee. And +she gave a relieved sigh. "Oh, Grandpapa, if we only had the poor +children now!" she exclaimed, dreadfully excited. + +"Come, then." Old Mr. King set her on her feet. "Clear the way there, +good people; we are going to find some poor children who are waiting for +dolls," and he threw wide the door into a back passage, and there, +presided over by Jencks, and crowding for the first entrance, was a +score of children with outstretched hands. + +"Oh--oh!" exclaimed Phronsie with cheeks aflame. + +"Please, he said we was to have dolls," cried one hungry-eyed girl, +holding out both her hands. "I've never had one. Please give me one +quick." + +"Never had one?" echoed Phronsie, taking a step toward her. + +"Only a piece, Miss, I found in a rag-barrel. Please give me one quick." + +"She's never had a doll--only a piece," repeated Phronsie, turning back +to the family, unable to contain this information. + +"Ask the others if they have had any," said Mr. King, leaning against a +tall cabinet. "Try that girl there in a brown plaid dress." + +"Have you ever had a doll?" asked Phronsie obediently, looking over at +the girl indicated, and holding her breath for the answer. + +At this, the girl in the brown plaid dress burst into tears, which so +distressed Phronsie that she nearly cried. + +"Yes, but it died," said the girl after a little. + +"Oh, Grandpapa, her doll died!" exclaimed Phronsie in horror. + +"No, it didn't, Jane," corrected another girl, "the dog et it; you know +he did." + +"Yes, I know," said Jane, between small sobs, "it died, and we couldn't +have any fun'ral, 'cause the dog had et it." + +"Well, now, Phronsie," exclaimed Mr. King, getting away from the support +of the cabinet, "I think it's time that we should make some of these +children happy. Don't you want to take them up to the playroom and +distribute the dolls?" + +"No, no," protested Phronsie suddenly. "I must go up and tell my +children. They will understand it better then, Grandpapa. I'll be back +in a very few minutes," and going out she went quickly upstairs, and +after a while returned with both arms full. + +"This doll is for you," she said gravely, putting a doll attired in a +wonderful pink satin costume into Jane's arms. "I've told her about your +dog, and she's a little frightened, so please be careful." + +"What's the fun down there now?" asked Joel of Van, who with Percy could +not be persuaded to leave his bedside a moment, "open the door, do, and +let's hear it." + +So Van threw wide the door. + +"Go out and listen, Percy, will you?" he said. + +"I don't want to," said Percy, who shared Van's wish to keep in the +background. + +"You two fellows act like muffs," said Joel. "Now if you want me to get +well, go out, do, and tell me what the fun is going on down there." + +So persuaded, the two boys stole out into the hall in time to see +Phronsie go down the stairs with her armful, and carefully using their +ears they soon rushed back with "Phronsie's giving away her dolls!" + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Joel, "if you can't bring back anything +better than that yarn, you might as well stay here." + +"But I tell you it's true," declared Van, "isn't it, Percy?" + +"Yes, it is," said Percy. "I heard her distinctly say, 'This doll is for +you'--and she had her arms full, so I suppose she's going to give those +away too"-- + +"A likely story," said Joel, bursting into a laugh. At the noise up in +the boys' room, Mother Fisher ran quickly over the stairs. + +"Oh, boys! what is it? Joel, are you worse?" + +"No, indeed," said Joel, "I was laughing. Percy and Van have been +telling such a big story. Mamsie, they actually said that Phronsie was +giving away her dolls." + +"Is that all?" cried Mrs. Fisher in relief. "Well, so she is, Joel." + +"PHRONSIE GIVING AWAY HER DOLLS, MAMSIE?" screamed Joel. "Why, what does +Grandpapa say?" + +"He's the very one that proposed it," said Mrs. Fisher. "There, Joey, +don't get excited, for I don't know what the doctor will say," as Joel +sank back on his pillow, overcome by this last piece of news. + +When Phronsie went to bed that night she clasped Mr. King's new gift to +her breast. + +"Grandpapa, dear," she said confidingly as they went up the stairs +together, "do you know I really think more of this doll, now that the +others are gone? Really I do, Grandpapa, and I can take better care of +her, because I shall have more time." + +"So you will, dear," assented Mr. King. "Well, Phronsie, I think you and +I, dear, haven't made a bad day's work." + +"I think my children will be happy," said Phronsie with a small sigh, +"because you see it's so nice to make good times for their new mothers. +And, Grandpapa, I couldn't play with each one more than once a week. I +used to try to, but I couldn't, Grandpapa." + +"Why didn't you tell me, Phronsie," asked the old gentleman a bit +reproachfully as they reached the top step, "how it was, dear? You +should have given them away long ago." + +"Ah, but," said Phronsie, slowly shaking her head, "I didn't want to +give them away before; only just now, Grandpapa, and I think they will +be happy. And now I'm going to take this newest one to bed, just as I +used to take things to bed years ago, when I was a little girl." + +And after all, there was an extension of time for the three boys' +vacation, Dr. Marks not getting up from his sudden attack of fever as +quickly as was expected. But there came a day at last, when Percy, Van +and David bade Joel "good-by." + +"It won't be for long," observed that individual cheerfully, "you'll be +back in three weeks." + +"O dear!" groaned Percy when safe within the coach, "we've ruined all +his chances. He certainly will be plucked now--with those three weeks +to make up." + +Van gathered himself up and leaned forward in his corner. + +"Don't look so, Dave," he cried desperately. + +David tried to smooth the troubled lines out of his face, but only +succeeded in making it look worse than before. + +"And it will kill Mrs. Fisher," Percy continued gloomily, "if he does +get plucked, as of course he will." + +"Keep still, will you?" cried Van, his irritation getting beyond bounds. +"What's the use of talking about a thing till it's done," which had the +effect to make Percy remember his promise to Polly and close his mouth. + +But Joel's wound healed quicker than any one supposed it possibly could, +and Percy and Van, who both hated to write letters, gave up much time on +the playground to indite daily bulletins, so that he declared that it +was almost as good as being there on the spot. And Mother Fisher and her +army of servants cleaned the great stone house from top to bottom, and +sorted, and packed away, and made things tidy for the new housekeeper +who was to care for them in her absence, till Dr. Fisher raised his +eyebrows and hands in astonishment. + +"I really must," he said one day, "put in a remonstrance, wife, or +you'll kill yourself before we start." + +"Oh! I'm used to working," Mrs. Fisher would say cheerily, and then off +she would fly to something so much worse that the little doctor was +speechless. + +And Polly set herself at all her studies, especially French, with +redoubled vigor, notwithstanding that she was hampered with the faithful +attentions of the schoolgirls who fought among themselves for her company, +and showered her with pathetic "O--dear--me--ow--I--shall--miss--you," and +with tears when they got over it. And Jasper buried himself in his den, +only bursting forth at meal times, and Mrs. Whitney bemoaned all +preparations for the travelers' departure, and wished a thousand times +that she had not given her promise to keep the house and look after the +boys. And everybody who had the slightest claim to a calling acquaintance, +now dropped in upon the Kings, and Polly had her "good-by party," and it +was pronounced perfectly elegant by Alexia and her set, and the three boys +came home for the long vacation--and in two days the party would sail. + +"Who do you think is going abroad with us?" asked Mr. King suddenly, as +they all sat in the library for a last evening talk; "guess quickly." + +"Who?" cried several voices. + +"Why, I thought you didn't want any outsiders, father," exclaimed Jasper +in surprise. + +"Well, and I didn't when I said so, but circumstances are changed now-- +come, guess quickly, some one?" + +"The Cabots," said Jasper at a venture. + +"No, no; guess again." + +"Mr. Alstyne?" + +"No; again." + +"The Bayleys, the Dyces, the Herrings," shouted Mr. Whitney and Van and +Joel. + +"No, I know," broke in Percy, "it's Mrs. Chatterton," with a quick +glance to make sure that she was not in the room. + +"NO!" thundered Mr. King. "Oh! how stupid people can be when they want +to. Two persons are to meet us in New York to-morrow. I didn't tell you +till I was sure; I had no desire that you should be disappointed. Now +guess again." + +"Auntie, do you know?" asked Polly suddenly, leaning back, as she sat on +the rug in front of the fire, to lay her head in Mrs. Whitney's lap. + +"No, I'm sure I don't," said Mrs. Whitney, stroking lightly the brown +hair, with a pang to think how long it would be before she should caress +it again. + +"How any one can desire to cross the ocean," remarked Mr. Whitney, +folding his hands back of his head and regarding meditatively the +glowing fire, "is more than I can see. That I never shall do it again +unless whipped over, I'm morally certain." + +"Are the persons men?" asked Ben suddenly. + +"One is," replied Mr. King. + +"And the other is a woman?" + +"The other is a woman," said Mr. King. "Well, what are their names? +Isn't anybody smart enough to guess them? Dear me, I've always said that +the Peppers were remarkably bright, and the rest of you children are not +behind other young people. Go on, try again. Now who are they?" + +Polly took her head out of Mrs. Whitney's lap, and rested her chin in +her hands, Davie walked up and down the room, while Ben and the two +Whitney boys hung over Mother Fisher's chair. + +"Dear me!" fumed Joel. "Who ever could guess. There's such a lot or +people in the world that Grandpapa knows. It might be any two of them +that he had asked." + +Little Dr. Fisher's eyes roved from one to the other of the group. "I +couldn't begin to guess because I don't know many of your friends," he +said quietly. + +"You know these two people very well," said Mr. King, laughing, to see +the little man's face. + +"Now I think I know," said Jasper slowly, a light coming into his gray +eyes, "but I don't suppose it's fair to guess, for I saw the address on +a letter father was writing two or three weeks ago." + +"You did, you young scamp, you!" cried Mr. King, turning on him. "Well, +then, 'tisn't a guess for you, Jasper. Keep still, my boy, and let them +work away at it. Will no one guess?" + +"Mamsie," cried Polly, bounding up from the ring, nearly upsetting +Phronsie, who was sitting beside her in a brown study, "can it be--do +you suppose it is nice, dear Mr. and Mrs. Henderson?" + +"Well, Polly," said Mr. King, beaming at her, "you've done what the +others couldn't. Yes, it is Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, and they are going +with us to stay until the autumn." + +"Good, good!" cried every one till the big room seemed full of joy. + +"Oh, father!" exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, "I'm so glad you've done this. +They were so kind to Dicky and to me when he was hurt." + +"They were kind to Dicky and to you," said her father; "and besides, +Marian, Mr. Henderson is a man who doesn't preach at you only once a +week, and Mrs. Henderson is a fine woman. So it's a pity not to ease up +things for them now and then. Well, how do you like the plan?" He spoke +to Dr. Fisher, but his gaze took them all in. + +"Immensely," said the little doctor; which being again echoed heartily +by all the rest, old Mr. King began to feel very much elated at his part +in the proceedings, and in a quarter of an hour it seemed as if the +expedition had been especially planned for the benefit of the +Hendersons, so naturally had it all come about. + +And on the morrow, the whole family, Kings, Whitneys, Fishers and +Peppers, turned their backs on the gray stone mansion and went down to +the city. + +And Alexia Rhys persuaded her aunt to do her semi-annual shopping at +this time, and to take her too; and Mr. Alstyne also had business that +necessitated his going, and Mr. Cabot and Mary Taylor, and her father +found they must go along too; and Hamilton Dyce was there, and Pickering +Dodge, of course, went to be company for Ben on the way back. And at the +last moment who should jump on the train but Livingston Bayley. + +"Had a telegram," he explained; "must be there at noon. So glad of the +unexpected pleasure of meeting you all." + +And Cousin Eunice Chatterton went; for, at the last minute, she had +suddenly discovered that she had visited at the gray stone mansion as +long as she cared to, and notified the family accordingly. And Mr. King +had so far made up for his part in the late unpleasantness as to ask her +to go with the party, on her way to her nephew's in the city. So there +she was with the others, bidding them good-by on the steamer. + +"Phronsie," she said slowly, under cover of the babel of tongues, "you +are a good child, and I've done well by you. This little bit of paper," +putting it into her hands, "contains a message to Mr. King, which you +are to give him after you have started." + +"I will go and give it to him now," said Phronsie, her fingers closing +over the bit. + +"No, no," said Mrs. Chatterton sharply, "do as I say. Remember, on no +account to let any one see it till after you have started. You are a +good child, Phronsie. Now, remember to do as you are bidden. And now, +will you kiss me, child?" + +Phronsie lifted her eyes and fixed them on the long, white face, and +suddenly raising herself on her tiptoes, she put up her lips. + +"Look at Phron," cried Joel in the midst of the group, "actually kissing +Mrs. Chatterton!" and everybody turned and stared. + +Cousin Eunice dropped her veil with a quick hand, and moved off with a +stately step, but not in time to lose young Bayley's drawl: + +"'Pon me word--it's the most extraordinary thing. Phronsie, come here, +and tell us what 'twas like." But Phronsie stood quite still as if she +had not heard. + +"Yes, I hope you'll have a nice time," Pickering Dodge was saying for +the dozenth time, with eyes for no one but Polly, "now don't stay away +for a year." + +Polly with her heart full of the boys, who were hanging on either side, +answered at random. + +"Oh, Ben! I can't go," she was exclaiming, and she hid her head on his +shoulder, so Pickering turned off. + +But Joel set his teeth together. "You must," he said, for Ben was beyond +speech with the effort to control himself. + +"I can't," said poor Polly, "leave you, Ben, and the boys." + +And then Mrs. Whitney came up just as Polly was near breaking down. + +"My dear child," she said, taking Polly's hands, "you know it is right +for you to go." + +"Yes, I know," said Polly, fighting her tears. + +"Then, Polly, be brave, dear, and don't begrudge me my three new boys," +she added playfully. "Just think how happy I'm to be, with six such +splendid fellows to call my own." + +Polly smiled through her tears. + +"And one thing more," said Mrs. Whitney in a low voice, "when you feel +badly," looking steadily at Polly and the three boys, "remember what Dr. +Fisher said; that if your mother didn't stop working, and rest, she +would break down." + +"I'll remember," said Ben hoarsely. + +"So will I," said David. + +"And I will," said Joel, looking everywhere but into Polly's eyes. + +"Well, I hope, Miss Polly," said young Mr. Bayley, sauntering up, "that +you'll have an uncommonly nice time, I do indeed. I may run across in +September; if I do, we shall probably meet." + +"Miss Mary Pepper?" suddenly asked a man with a huge basket of flowers, +and pausing in front of her. + +Young Mr. Bayley smiled indulgently as he could not help reading the +card thrust into the flowers. "She will receive my flowers at intervals +all the way over, if the steward doesn't fail me," he reflected with +satisfaction, "while this boy's will fade in an hour." + +"Miss Mary Pepper?" the florist's messenger repeated, extending the +basket to Polly. + +"It's for you, Miss Polly," said young Mr. Bayley. "Let me relieve you," +taking the basket. + +"Oh! are they for me?" cried Polly. + +"I believe you are Miss Mary Pepper," said young Bayley. "Pretty, aren't +they?" fingering the roses, and glad to think that there were orchids +among the flowers to which his card was attached, and just placed under +the steward's care. + +"I suppose I am," said Polly, with a little laugh, "but it seems as if I +couldn't be anything but Polly Pepper. Oh! thank you, Pickering, for +these lovely roses," catching sight of him. + +"Glad you like them," said Pickering radiantly. "Say, Polly, don't stay +away a whole year, will you?" + +Young Mr. Bayley set the basket in his hand and turned on his heel with +a smile. + +"Come, Polly, I want you," cried Alexia, trying to draw her off. "You +know she's my very best friend, Pickering, and I haven't had a chance to +say one word to her this morning. Come, Polly." + +"Polly, come here," called Mrs. Fisher. + +"O dear!" cried Alexia impatiently, "now that's just the way it always +is. It's Polly here, and Polly there," as Polly deserted her and ran off +with her basket of roses. + +"You don't do any of the calling, of course," said Pickering, with a +laugh. + +"Well, I'll have her to myself," declared Alexia savagely, "before it's +time for us to get off the steamer, see if I don't." + +"I don't believe it," said Pickering. "Look at her now in a maelstrom of +relatives. You and I, Alexia, are left out." + +And the next thing Alexia knew somebody unceremoniously helped her from +the steamer with a "Beg pardon, Miss, but you must get off," and she was +standing on the wharf in a crowd of people, looking in a dazed way at +Polly Pepper's fluttering handkerchief, while fast-increasing little +ripples of greenish water lay between them. + +And Phronsie was running up to Mr. King: + +"Here, Grandpapa, Mrs. Chatterton wanted me to give you this," +unclasping her warm little palm where the bit of white paper lay. "The +Dickens she did," exclaimed the old gentleman; "so she has had a last +word with you, has she? Well, she won't get another for a long spell; so +never mind. Now, let's see what Cousin Eunice says. Something +interesting, no doubt." He spread the crumpled bit straight and read, +Phronsie standing quite still by his side: + +COUSIN HORATIO: +I have made Phronsie Pepper my sole heir. You may like it or not, as you +please. The thing is done, and may God bless Phronsie. + EUNICE CHATTERTON. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS MIDWAY *** + +This file should be named flttp10.txt or flttp10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, flttp11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, flttp10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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