diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:29:47 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:29:47 -0700 |
| commit | 8085466463d1d37a13495914d5075545fe7666e5 (patch) | |
| tree | b923c97afa2c881d15ec1559747cc978ac644e5c | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7498.txt | 10832 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 7498.zip | bin | 0 -> 173662 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/5pepr10.txt | 10754 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/5pepr10.zip | bin | 0 -> 177140 bytes |
7 files changed, 21602 insertions, 0 deletions
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/7498.txt b/7498.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7abeded --- /dev/null +++ b/7498.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10832 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Five Little Peppers Grown Up, 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 Grown Up + +Author: Margaret Sidney + +Posting Date: April 29, 2013 [EBook #7498] +Release Date: February, 2005 +First Posted: May 11, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS GROWN UP *** + + + + +Produced by Naomi Parkhurst, Juliet Sutherland, Charles +Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "WELL, AMY, CHILD, HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"] + + + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS GROWN UP + +BY + +MARGARET SIDNEY + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I. POLLY GIVES MUSIC LESSONS + CHAPTER II. GETTING READY FOB CHRISTMAS + CHAPTER III. CHRISTMAS AT DUNRAVEN + CHAPTER IV. THE FESTIVITIES + CHAPTER V. BAD NEWS + CHAPTER VI. OF MANY THINGS + CHAPTER VII. PHRONSIE + CHAPTER VIII. POLLY LOOKS OUT FOR CHARLOTTE + CHAPTER IX. POLLY'S RECITAL + CHAPTER X. PHRONSIE HAS A PLAN + CHAPTER XI. THINGS ARE GETTING MIXED + CHAPTER XII. POLLY TRIES TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT + CHAPTER XIII. THE ACCIDENT + CHAPTER XIV. JOEL + CHAPTER XV. THE FARMHOUSE HOSPITAL + CHAPTER XVI. ON THE BORDERLAND + CHAPTER XVII. JASPER + CHAPTER XVIII. MR. KING ATTENDS TO MATTERS + CHAPTER XIX. MOTHER FISHER AND CHARLOTTE + CHAPTER XX. STRAIGHTENING OUT AFFAIRS + CHAPTER XXI. POLLY TRIES TO HELP JASPER + CHAPTER XXII. MR. KING AND POLLY + CHAPTER XXIII. THAT SETTLES MANY THINGS + CHAPTER XXIV. HOME! + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +"Well, Amy child, how can I help you?" + +"Why, Polly Pepper, what do you mean?" + +"Baby ought to have a Christmas tree," said Phronsie slowly + +"Oh!" said Jack Loughead. Then he tapped his boot with his walking stick + +"Joel's gone," panted Phronsie, flying back + +Joel swinging a big box, rushed into Dunraven Hall + +"And did we," cried Phronsie, "find it out, Polly, and spoil it all?" + +"Will you?" asked Phronsie, looking down into their faces + +"We don't know how to tell it, Grandpapa" + +"Now do set us to work, Joel" + +"Oh, you don't know how I miss those boys!" + +"And please make dear papa give her the right things" + +Charlotte, standing composedly in one corner of the hall + +Alexia coolly read on, one arm around Polly + +"My dear Alexia," cried Miss Salisbury, quite softened, "don't feel so" + +"I'll not sing a note!" + +"For shame, Polly, if the Little Brown House teachings are forgotten +like this" + +Polly turned and waved her music-roll at them + +"I'm not going to lecture you" + +"Don't stop me," cried Pickering crossly + +"I'm going home," declared Charlotte + +"What do you say?" cried Polly + +"Oh, Polly, are you hurt?" + +Old Mr. King drew up his chair to oversee it all + +"You come along yourself, Dobbs," said Joel pleasantly + +"I'll help you; I'm strong," said Charlotte. + +"It's so nice, everybody is getting on so well," said Polly + +Then Phronsie glanced back again, and softly jogged the cradle + +"Why do you put your apron up there?" asked Phronsie in gentle reproach + +"An old gentleman in my room," repeated Jasper, turning on the stairs + +"Good-morning," said Mr. Marlowe; "business all right?" + +"How you can sit there and laugh when Joe is in danger, I don't see," +exclaimed Percy irritably. + +"Well, now I have two babies," said Mother Fisher + +"I've always found," said Dr. Fisher, "that all you had to do to start a +thing, was to begin" + +"Phronsie, get a glass of water; be quick, child!" + +"I think it was a mean shame!" began Dick wrathfully + +"Oh, why did I speak?" cried Polly over and over + +"Are you sick, Polly?" cried Phronsie anxiously + +"Polly hasn't had all the milk," said Phronsie + +Amy + +"Nothing can be too good for Polly Pepper!" cried Alexia, starting +forward + +He walked off, leaving Polly alone in the lane + +"My! what a sight of fish!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, dropping to her knees +beside the basket + +"Now, Jasper, you begin," cried Polly, "and we'll tell Mamsie all about +it, as we always do when we get home" + +"Polly, do come with us!" + +"And you will be my own brother, Jasper," said Phronsie + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +POLLY GIVES MUSIC LESSONS. + + +"Miss Pepper--Miss Pepper!" + +Polly turned quickly, it was such an anxious little cry. + +"What? Oh, Amy Loughead." + +Amy threw herself up against Polly's gown. "Oh, if I may," she began, +flushing painfully. "You see my brother is coming to-morrow--I've a +letter--so if you will let me." + +"Let you what?" cried Polly, with a little laugh; "go on, Amy, don't be +afraid." + +"You see it is just this way," Amy twisted her fingers together, drew +her breath hard, and rushed on nervously; "Jack--he's my brother, you +know--promised me--I never told you--if I would only learn to play on +the piano, he'd take me to Europe with him next time, and now he's +coming to-morrow, and--and, oh! what shall I do?" + +Amy was far gone now, and she ended with a little howl of distress, that +brought two or three of the "Salisbury girls" flying in with +astonishment. + +"Go back," said Polly to them all, and they ran off as suddenly as they +had popped in, to leave Amy and the music teacher alone. + +"Now, Amy," said Polly kindly, getting down on her knees beside the girl +where she had thrown herself on the broad lounge, "you must just +understand, dear, that I cannot help you unless you will have +self-control and be a little woman yourself." + +"You told me I would be sorry if I didn't practice," mourned Amy, +dragging her wet little handkerchief between her fingers, "but I didn't +suppose Jack was coming for six months, and I'd have time to catch up, +and now--oh dear me!" and she burrowed deeper into Miss Salisbury's big +sofa-pillow. + +"Take care!" warned Polly, with a ready hand to rescue the elaborate +combination of silk and floss, "it would be a very dreadful thing if +this should get spoiled." + +Amy Loughead brought her wet cheek off suddenly. "There isn't a single +tear on it, Miss Pepper," she gasped. + +"That's very fortunate," said Polly, with a relieved breath. "Well, Amy +child, how can I help you?" She sat down now, and drew the girl's hot +little hand within her own. + +"I can almost play that horrible 'Chopin,'" said Amy irrelevantly; "that +is, I could, if--oh Miss Pepper," she broke off suddenly and brought her +flushed face very near to the one above her, "could you help me play +it--just hear me, you know, and tell me things you did, over again, +about it, if I practice all the afternoon? Could you?" + +"This evening, do you mean?" asked Polly, a trifle sharply. + +"Yes," said Amy faintly, and twisting her handkerchief. "Oh dear me, I +know you're so tired. What shall I do?" + +"But you don't understand," cried Polly, vexed with herself that she +couldn't help her annoyance from being seen. "I shall put some one else +out if I give up my evening. I have an engagement, Amy. No, I don't see +how I can do it, child; I'm sorry." And then before she knew how, she +put both arms around the little figure. "Don't cry, dear, I suppose I +must. I'll get out of the other thing. Yes, fly at Chopin, and keep your +courage up, and I'll be over at seven. Then to-morrow Brother Jack will +say 'How fine!' and off you'll go over the seas!" + +Outside, Polly, after enlisting Miss Salisbury's favor for the evening's +plan, was hurrying along the pavement, calling herself an hundred +foolish names for helping an idle girl out of a scrape. "And to think of +losing the only chance to hear D'Albert," she mourned. "Well, it's done +now, and can't be helped. Even Jasper when he hears of it, will think me +a silly, I suppose. Now to make my peace with Pickering." + +She turned down the avenue running out from the street that had the +honor to contain "Miss Salisbury's Boarding and Day School for Young +Ladies," and met face to face, suddenly, a young man, about whose joy at +meeting her, there could be no doubt. + +"Oh, Polly!" he cried, "here, let me take that detestable thing!" trying +to get the music-roll out of her hand. + +"Take care how you talk against this," cried Polly, hugging it closer. +"Indeed you shall not touch it, till you are glad that I am a music +teacher. Oh, I must tell you--I was on my way to your house because I +was afraid you wouldn't understand a note. I can't go to-night." + +"Can't go to-night?" repeated Pickering, in his astonishment forgetting +all his manners. "Why, Polly Pepper, what do you mean?" + +"Why, I must give it up," cried Polly nervously; "don't ask me--or +perhaps I ought to tell you, Pickering, then you'll see I can't help +myself." And Polly rapidly unfolded her plan for the evening, omitting +all details as to Amy's careless waste of her lessons despite all +efforts to make her practice. At the end of the recital, Pickering Dodge +came to a full pause on the sidewalk, regardless of all passers-by, and +turned a glowering face on Polly, who was forced to stand still also, +and look at him. + +"What idiocy!" he exclaimed, "to give up D'Albert for that ignoramus! +Polly, are you losing your senses?" + +"I don't know," said poor Polly, who had lost the first flush of +enthusiasm over her plan, and to whom nothing now seemed so delightful +as the sight and sound of D'Albert and his wonderful melody. "Well, it's +done, so don't tempt me to feel badly, Pickering." + +"Indeed, and it's not done," said Pickering angrily; "you made the +engagement, Polly. I never knew you to break one before," he added +stingingly. + +The tears flew into Polly's brown eyes, and every bit of color deserted +her round cheek. "Don't call it that, Pickering," she implored, putting +out her hand. + +"I shall call it just what it is," declared Pickering, in his stiffest +fashion. "It's a broken engagement, Polly Pepper, nothing more nor +less." + +"Then," said Polly, all her tears dried, "I must go with you, if you +hold me to it." She raised her head, and looked him full in the eyes. "I +will be ready," and she moved off with her most superb air, without +deigning a good-by. + +[Illustration: "WHY, POLLY PEPPER, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"] + +"Oh, Polly," cried Pickering, starting forward to overtake her, "see +here, if you very much wish it, why, of course, Polly--Polly, do look +around!" + +"What do you wish to say?" asked Polly, not looking around as he gained +her side. + +"Why, of course," cried Pickering, his words stumbling over each other, +"if you can't go, I'll--I'll give it up, and stay at home." + +"And why should you stay at home?" cried Polly, suddenly giving him a +glimpse of her face; "you've lovely seats; do ask Alexia." + +"Alexia!" exclaimed Pickering angrily. "Indeed I will not. I don't want +any one if I can't have you, Polly." He was really miserable now, and +needed comfort, so she turned around and administered it as only Polly +could. + +By the time the talk was over, she hurried off with a radiant face, and +Pickering with an expression only one remove from that of absolute +gloom, retraced his steps to lay one of "the lovely seats" for the +D'Albert concert, before Miss Rhys, for her acceptance. + +Phronsie came slowly down the hall to meet Polly as usual; this day with +one of her company white gowns on. Polly always knew when these were +donned that something unusual was to be expected from the daily routine +of the household. + +"Are you really and truly home, Polly?" asked Phronsie, taking the +music-roll to tuck it under her own arm. + +"Yes, Pet;" Polly set a kiss on the red lips. "And I am as hungry as a +beaver, Phronsie." + +"So you must be," said Phronsie, with a little sigh, "for you were so +long in coming home. Well, do hurry now, Polly." This last as Polly was +skipping over the stairs to her own room to freshen up a bit. Then +Phronsie turned into the dining-room to be quite sure that the butler +had made the belated luncheon as fine as Polly could desire it. + +"She didn't ask why I had on this gown," mused Phronsie, softly +disposing again the flowers at Polly's plate, "and it's funny, I think, +for Polly always sees everything;" and she began to look troubled at +once. + +[Illustration: PHRONSIE CAME SLOWLY DOWN THE HALL.] + +"This is just as splendid as it can be," cried Polly, coming in, and +picking up one of the roses at her plate. "Phronsie, you are just a dear +to have everything so nice," and she fastened it at her belt. "Why, dear +me! You've a fine gown on! What is going to happen?" + +"And you didn't see it," said Phronsie, a bit reproachfully, as she +gently smoothed the front breadth of mull. + +"Forgive me, dear," begged Polly. "Well, what is it, Pet? Do tell me; +for I'm dying of curiosity, as the Salisbury girls say." + +Phronsie stood up on tiptoe, and achieved Polly's ear. + +"Who do you think is coming to-night?" she whispered impressively. + +"To-night? Oh, dear me! I can't possibly guess," said Polly, beginning +to think that this one evening of all the year held supreme moments for +her. "Who is it, Phronsie? do tell me quickly." + +"Well," said Phronsie, drawing off to see the surprised delight sure to +come on Polly's face, "it's Jasper himself." + +"Not Jasper?" exclaimed Polly, quite gone with joy. "Oh, Phronsie +Pepper, you can't mean that?" + +"But I do," said Phronsie, forgetting her age, to hop up and down on the +rug, "we've a letter while you were at the school, and I wasn't to tell +you suddenly, so I put on one of my nice gowns, so you would know." + +"But how could I possibly suppose that Jasper would come now," cried +Polly, seizing Phronsie's hands to execute one of the old-time dances. +"Now I almost know he is going to stay over Christmas." + +"He is--he is!" cried Phronsie in a little scream; "you've guessed it, +Polly. And Mamsie said--she's gone down town with Grandpapa; he's going +to get tickets for the concert to-night, so that you can all go +together, even if you can't sit together, and she said that"-- + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly in dismay and she stood quite still. + +"Aren't you glad?" asked Phronsie, her joy suddenly hushed. + +"And I've done it myself--spoiled all this loveliness," cried Polly +passionately, little white lines coming around her mouth, "and Jasper +here!" + +"Oh, Polly, Polly!" Phronsie clasped her gown imploringly, "don't, +Polly." + +"I just won't go to the school," declared Polly at white heat; "I don't +care for the concert, but I'll send a note over to say that I am +detained at home." + +"What is it, Polly?" begged Phronsie, all sorts of dreadful surmises +seizing her, "do tell me, Polly, won't you?" + +"It's--nothing; you wouldn't understand, child," said Polly quickly. +"There, don't ask." + +Phronsie crept away in a grieved fashion, to be presently folded into +Polly's warm arms. "I'm bad to-day, Phronsie dear. There, Pet, now you +are all right, aren't you?" as she hugged her close. + +"I am, if you are, Polly," said Phronsie doubtfully. + +"Well, I'm all right now," said Polly, her brow clearing; "the bad has +gone at last, I hope, to stay away, Phronsie. Now I must hurry and eat +this nice luncheon you've fixed for me;" and she sprang toward the +table. + +"Don't you want to write a note first?" asked Phronsie, wondering at +Polly's strange mood, and following her to the table-edge, "you said +so." + +"No; I've given it up," said Polly, sitting down and beginning on her +chop and toast. "Bless you, dear, you've given me an orchid," glancing +down between her mouthfuls to the bouquet at her plate; "you should have +saved them all for Jasper." + +"Turner said I might have it," said Phronsie triumphantly, "and I knew +you'd give it to Jasper, so it's all right." + +"It surely shall do double duty," said Polly merrily, with a tender +glance for the orchid. "Well, how's Baby?" + +"He is very nice," said Phronsie, with a grown-up air, "and didn't cry a +bit for Mamsie. And now if you are really all right, Polly, I'll go up +to the nursery and look at him." + +"So I would," said Polly approvingly. "Yes, I'm all right; see, I'm on +my chop No. 2." + +Phronsie smiled with great satisfaction at this, and went off. At a +quarter of seven, Polly, in a storm of remonstrance from all but one, +hurried off to help poor Amy Loughead through her Slough of Despond. + +Jasper alone, just arrived for dinner, was the only one who remained +silent when the storm of disapproval broke forth over Polly and her +doings. After the first astonished exclamation, he had absolutely +refused to say anything save "Polly knows best." + +"I don't know how to thank you," said Polly out in the wide hall, where +he hurried to meet her, as she ran downstairs with her plainest walking +things on, "for I don't believe they would have let me go. I never saw +Mamsie feel so, Jasper." And now Polly could not keep the tears back. + +"She'll see it all right to-morrow," said Jasper soothingly. + +He put his hand out and grasped hers, as in the old days in the little +brown house, and Polly answered through her tears, "I know, Jasper." + +And then the maid appearing, who was to accompany her to Miss +Salisbury's, Polly came out from her tears, and said, "I'm ready, +Barbara." + +"You are not needed, Barbara," said Jasper, reaching up for his top-coat +from the oaken rack. + +"What are you going to do?" gasped Polly, her hand on the door-knob, and +glancing back. + +"Walk over with you to that center of culture and wisdom," said Jasper +coolly, close beside her now, his hat in his hand. + +"O, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly in dismay, her face growing quite pale, +"don't; you'll be late for the concert. Barbara, Barbara!" Polly looked +past him to summon the departing maid. + +"Barbara is a good girl, and understands the duty of obedience," said +Jasper laughingly. "There's no help for it, Polly; you must accept my +escort," and he opened the door. + +"But Grandpapa! he will be terribly disappointed not to have you go to +the concert with him," cried Polly, getting down the steps with a +dreadful weight at her heart. + +"I made it all right with father," said Jasper, "as soon as I heard of +your plan; and Mr. Alstyne is on his way over to take my place; at least +he ought to be in response to my note. Don't worry, Polly; come." + +"Oh! what perfectly elegant seats," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, waving her +big ostrich fan contentedly, and sweeping the audience with a long gaze. +"Everybody is here to-night, Pickering." + +"That's not so," said Pickering savagely, and bestowing a thump on his +unoffending opera hat, already reduced to the smallest possible bulk. + +"Don't spoil it," advised Alexia coolly, with a sidelong gaze at his +face. "Well, of course I mean everybody except Polly; and I'm sure, +Pickering, it isn't my fault that she didn't come; Polly always was +queer about some things." + +Pickering did not answer, but bestowed his glance on the programme in +his hand. + +"And now she is queerer than ever," said Alexia, glad to think that the +dainty blue affair on her head, she called a bonnet, was already doing +its work, as she heard a lady in the seat back of them, question if it +were not one of the newest of Madame Marchaud's creations. So she sat +more erect, and played nonchalantly with her fan. "Yes, and it's all +because of those dreadfully horrid music lessons." + +Pickering coughed, and rattled his programme ominously, which Alexia +pretended not to hear. + +"Why Mr. King lets her do it, I can't see," she went on. + +"Do stop," said Pickering shortly, and casting a nervous glance back of +her shoulder. + +"Never mind if they do hear," said Alexia sweetly, "all the better; then +they'll know we don't approve of her doing so, at any rate." + +"I do approve," said Pickering, his face flaming, "if she wants to; and +we've got to, any way, because we can't help ourselves. I do wish, +Alexia, you wouldn't discuss our friends in this public way." + +"And I don't think it is a very sweet thing to invite a girl to a +concert, and then get up a fight," said Alexia, back at him. + +"Goodness--who's fighting?" exclaimed Pickering under his breath. + +"You are--I wish you could see your face; it's as black as a thunder +cloud," said Alexia, with the consciousness that her own was as calm as +a June morning. "And I'm sure if you don't want to attract people to our +conversation, you might at least look a little pleasanter." + +Pickering threw two or three nervous glances on either side, to prove +her words, and was by no means reassured to see the countenance of Billy +Harlow, one of his young business friends, across the aisle, suffused +with an attempt to appear as if he hadn't been a witness to the little +by-play. + +"Well, I'm morally certain I won't trouble you with another invitation +to a concert," he said, too furious to quite know his own words. + +"You needn't," said Alexia, swinging her fan with an even hand, and +still smiling sweetly, this time including in it Billy, who had no girl +with him. "I really could endure life at home better than this bliss." +And then D'Albert came on the stage, and it was the proper thing to keep +quiet, so the hostilities died down. + +Going out of the Opera House, Billy Harlow ran up to the two. "Lovely +time you've had," he said on Alexia's side, and with a little grimace. + +"Haven't I?" said Alexia back again, with the air of a martyr. Pickering +stalking along by her side, had the air of a man who didn't care what +was being said about him. + +"Just look at him now," said Alexia softly, "isn't he sweet? And fancy +my bearing it for two hours. I don't think any other girl in our set, +could." + +"Why didn't Miss Pepper come this evening?" asked Mr. Harlow curiously; +"Pickering said he'd asked her." + +"Oh! she gave it up to help some girl," said Alexia carelessly. "She's +the music teacher at Miss Salisbury's school, you know." + +"Oh! is she?" asked Mr. Harlow innocently, forgetting to mention the +daily interviews he sustained with his sisters Kitty and Grace who were +"Salisbury girls," on Miss Pepper's movements. + +"And at the last minute he asked me to take her place," said Alexia with +perfect frankness, "and I was goose enough to do it." + +"Isn't Miss Pepper going to give a Recital pretty soon?" asked Mr. +Harlow, incidentally, as they worked their way along to the entrance. + +"Yes, she is," said Alexia sharply, "at the Exeter--we can't stop her; +she says she's proud to do it, and it shows the girls' wonderful +ability; and all that sort of thing--and--and--oh dear me! after she's +once done that, she'll always be 'Miss Pepper the music teacher.' Isn't +it horrid!" + +"I believe that is our carriage," said Pickering stiffly, and without so +much as a half-glance at Billy. "Come, Alexia." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +GETTING READY FOR CHRISTMAS. + + +"Baby ought to have a Christmas Tree," said Phronsie slowly. + +"Ah--King-Fisher, how is that? Do you want a Christmas Tree?" Jasper +dropped to all-fours by the side of the white bundle in the center of +the library rug, as he propounded the momentous question. + +The Baby plunged forward and buried both fat hands in the crop of brown +hair so suddenly brought to his notice. + +"Is that the way to show your acknowledgment, sir?" cried Jasper, +springing to his feet, Baby and all. "Well, there you go--there, and +there, and there!" tossing the white bundle high in the air. + +"Goodness! what a breeze you two contrive to raise," exclaimed Joel; +"Mamsie," as Mother Fisher put her head in the doorway, "the little chap +is getting the worst of it, I tell you." + +"Joel's jealous," said Jasper, with a laugh. "Take care, King-Fisher, +that really is my hair, sir." + +Mrs. Fisher nodded and chuckled to the baby, and hurried off. + +"He didn't really mean to pull your hair, Jasper," said Phronsie in a +worried way; and getting up from the floor where she had been deserted +by the baby, she hurried over to the two flying around in the center of +the room. + +"But he does pull dreadfully, though," said Polly, laughing, "don't you, +you little King!" pinching Baby's toes as Jasper spun him past her. + +"My goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King, coming in the opposite doorway, "I +should think it was a menagerie here! What's the matter, Phronsie?" + +"Baby is pulling Jasper's hair," said Phronsie slowly, and revolving +around the two dancers, "but he really doesn't mean to, Grandpapa." + +"Oh! I hope he does," said old Mr. King cheerfully, coming in and +sitting down in his favorite chair. "I'm sure it speaks well for the +young man's powers of self-defense, if he gives Jasper a good tweak." + +"Father!" cried Jasper in pretended astonishment. "Well, King-Fisher, as +popular opinion is against me, I'll set you down again, and nurse my +poor scalp," and down went the white bundle again to the floor, Phronsie +going back to her post as nurse. + +"There's been a terrible scheme worked up since you were out, sir," +announced Joel to the old gentleman. + +"Hey--what's that?" demanded Mr. King, staring at Polly. + +"Oh! it isn't Polly this time," said Joel with a laugh. "Generally it is +Polly that sets all dreadful things going; but this time, it is some +other ringleader." + +"Then I am sure I sha'n't approve if Polly isn't in it," declared the +old gentleman flatly. + +"But I am in it, Grandpapa," Polly made haste to say. "I think it is +very, very nice." + +"That alters the case," said Mr. King. "So what is it, Joe? Out with +it." + +"It's nothing more nor less than to upset this house from top to +bottom," said Joel, "and get up a dreadful howling, tearing Christmas +Tree." + +[Illustration: "BABY OUGHT TO HAVE A CHRISTMAS TREE," SAID PHRONSIE +SLOWLY.] + +"Oh, Joe Pepper!" ejaculated Polly reproachfully, "and you've always had +such fun over our Christmas Trees. How can you!" + +"It's for Baby," cried Phronsie, with a pink flush on her cheek. "He's +never seen one, you know, Grandpapa." + +"No, I should think not," said the old gentleman, looking down at the +white bundle. "Well, and so you want a Christmas Tree for him, Phronsie +child?" + +"I think we ought to have one," said Phronsie, "because you know, he's +never, never seen one. And we all have had so many beautiful Trees, +Grandpapa." + +"To be sure, to be sure," said Mr. King. "Well now, Phronsie child, come +here and tell me all about it," and he held out his hand. + +Phronsie cast an anxious glance at the bundle. "Can I leave him, +Grandpapa?" she asked. + +"Leave him? Mercy, yes; it does babies good to be left alone. He'll suck +his thumbs or his toes." + +"I'll stay with him," said Polly, running out of her corner to get on +her knees before the baby. "There now, sir, do you know what a blessed +old care you are?" smothering him with kisses. + +"Yes, I really think we ought to have a Christmas Tree," Phronsie was +saying, "Grandpapa dear," huddling up against his waistcoat as usual. + +"Then we surely will have one," declared old Mr. King, "so that is +settled. Do you hear, young people," raising his voice, "or does that +little scamp of a baby take all your ears?" + +"We hear, Grandpapa," said Polly from the floor, "and I'm very glad. It +will be good fun to get up a Christmas Tree." + +"Seeing you never have had that pleasing employment," said Jasper +_sotto voce_, on the rug before the fire. + +"Never mind; it'll be just as good fun again," said Polly. + +"And not a bit of work--oh, no!" + +"Don't throw cold water on it," begged Polly under her breath, while the +baby scrambled all over her, "don't, Jasper; Phronsie has set her heart +on it." + +"All right; but I thought you wanted every bit of time to get ready for +your Recital, and the other things; and then, besides, there's +Phronsie's performance down at Dunraven." + +"Well, so I did," confessed Polly, with a sigh, "but I can get the time +some way." + +"Out of 'the other things,'" said Jasper grimly. "Polly, you'll have no +fun from the holidays. It isn't too late to stop this now." He darted +over toward his father. + +"Jasper!" cried Polly imploringly. + +"What is it, my boy?" asked Mr. King, quite deep in the plans for the +Tree, Joel having added himself to their company. + +"Oh, nothing; Polly wants it, and we must make it a good one," said +Jasper, rather incoherently, and beginning to retreat. + +"Of course it will be a good one," said his father, a trifle testily, +"if we have it at all. When did we ever get up a poor Tree, pray tell?" + +Polly drew a relieved breath, and gathering the baby up in her arms, she +hurried over to the old gentleman's chair with a "Now when do you want +to have the Tree, Phronsie?" + +"Must we have it Christmas Day?" asked Phronsie, looking at her +anxiously. + +"Christmas Day? Dear me, no! Why, what would the Dunraven children do, +Phronsie, if you took that day away from them?" cried old Mr. King in +astonishment. + +Phronsie turned slowly back to him. "I thought perhaps we ought to let +Baby have the Tree Christmas Day," she said. + +"No, indeed," again said Mr. King. "Come here, you little scamp," +catching the baby out of Polly's hand, to set him on his other knee; +"there now, speak up like a man, and tell your sister that you are not +particular about the time you have your Tree." + +"Ar--goo!" said the Fisher baby. + +"That's it," said the old gentleman with approval, while the others +shouted. "So now, as long as your brother says so, Phronsie, why, I +should have your Tree the day before Christmas." + +"Oh, Polly wants to go"--began Jasper. + +"Ugh!" cried Polly warningly to him. "Yes, Phronsie; you much better +have it the day before, as Grandpapa says." + +"And you don't suppose Baby will feel badly afterwards when he gets +bigger, and cry because we didn't give him Christmas Day," said +Phronsie, "do you, Grandpapa?" + +"Indeed, I don't," declared the old gentleman, pinching the set of pink +toes nearest to his hand; "if he does, why, we'll all let him know what +we think of such conduct." + +"Then," said Phronsie, clasping her hands, "I should very much rather +not take Christmas Day from the Dunraven children, because you know, +Grandpapa, they expect it." + +"Of course they do," said old Mr. King. "Bless me! why, we shouldn't +know it was Christmas at all, if we didn't go down to Bedford and carry +it; and as for those children"-- + +The picture that this brought up, of Dunraven without a Christmas, threw +such a shadow over Phronsie's face, that Polly hastened to say +reassuringly: + +"Oh, Grandpapa! we wouldn't ever think of not carrying a Christmas to +Dunraven, would we, Pet?" and she threw her arms around Phronsie. + +"Of course not," chimed in Jasper and Joel, in a way to bring back the +smiles to the little downcast face. + +And the baby crowed, and seized Phronsie's floating yellow hair with +both hands, and they all got in one another's way to rescue it; and Mrs. +Pepper hurried in again, this time for Baby; and he was kissed all +around, Phronsie giving him two for fear he might think she was hurt; +and one of the maids popped in with "There is a gentleman in the +reception room to see Miss Mary." + +Jasper turned off with an impatient gesture. + +"I do suppose it is Mr. Loughead," said Polly, "for he wanted to come +some time and talk about Amy. O, dear! I hope I shall say the right +thing." + +"Doesn't the fellow know better than to come when we are home for the +Christmas holidays?" grumbled Joel. Jasper looked as if he could say as +much, but instead, walked to the window, and looked out silently. + +"He's very anxious about Amy," said Polly, running off to the door, +where she paused and looked back for sympathy toward her little +protege. + +"I should think he would be," grunted Joel; "she's a goose, and beside +that, she doesn't know anything." + +"O, Joe! she hasn't any father nor mother," cried Polly in distress. + +Joel gave an inaudible reply, and Polly ran off, carrying a face on +which the sunshine struggled to get back to its accustomed place. + +"Beg pardon for troubling you," said a tall young man, getting off from +the divan to meet her, as she hurried into the reception room, "but you +were good enough to say that I might talk with you about my sister, and +really I am very much at sea to know what to do with her, Miss Pepper." + +It was a long speech, and at the end of it, Polly and the caller were +seated, she in a big chair, and he back on the divan opposite to her. + +"I am glad to see you, Mr. Loughead," said Polly brightly, "and I hope I +can help you, for I am very fond of Amy." + +"It's good of you to say so," said Jack Loughead, "for she's a trying +little minx enough, I suspect; and Miss Salisbury tells me you've had no +end of trouble with her." + +"Miss Salisbury shouldn't say that," cried Polly involuntarily. Then she +stopped with a blush. "I mean, I don't think she quite understands it. +Amy does really try hard to study." + +"Oh!" said Jack Loughead. Then he tapped his boot with his +walking-stick. + +"So you really think my sister will amount to something, Miss Pepper?" +He looked at her keenly. + +Polly started. "Oh, yes, indeed! Why, she must, Mr. Loughead." + +He laughed, and bit his moustache. + +"And really, I don't think that Amy is quite understood," said Polly +warmly, and forgetting herself; "if people believe in her, it makes her +want to do things to please them." + +"She says herself she has bothered you dreadfully," said Jack, with a +vicious thrust of the walking-stick at his boot. + +"She has a little," confessed Polly, "but not dreadfully. And I do +think, Mr. Loughead, now that you have come, and that she sees how much +you want her to study and practice, she will really do better. I do, +indeed," said Polly earnestly. + +Outside she could hear the "two boys," as she still called them, and +Grandpapa's voice in animated consultation over the ways and means, she +knew as well as if she were there, of spending the holidays, and it +seemed as if she could never sit in the reception room another moment +longer, but that she must fly out to them. + +[Illustration: "OH!" SAID JACK LOUGHEAD. THEN HE TAPPED HIS BOOT WITH +HIS WALKING STICK.] + +"Amy has no mother," said Jack Loughead after a moment, and he turned +away his head, and pretended to look out of the window. + +"I know it." Polly's heart leaped guiltily. Oh! how could she think of +holidays and good times, while this poor little girl, but fifteen, had +only a dreary sense of boarding-school life to mean home to her. "And +oh! I do think," Polly hastened to say, and she clasped her hands as +Phronsie would have done, "it has made all the difference in the world +to her. And she does just lovely--so much better, I mean, than other +girls would in her place. I do really, Mr. Loughead," repeated Polly. + +"And no sister," added Jack, as if to himself. "How is a fellow like +me--why, I am twenty-five, Miss Pepper, and I've been knocking about the +world ever since I was her age; my uncle took me then to Australia, into +his business--how am I ever to 'understand,' as you call it, that girl?" + +It was impossible not to see his distress, and Polly, with a deaf ear to +the chatter out in the library, now bent all her energies to helping +him. + +"Mr. Loughead," she said, and the color deserted her round cheek, and +she leaned forward from the depths of the big chair, "I am afraid you +won't like what I am going to say." + +"Go on, please," said Jack, his eyes on her face. + +"I think if you want to understand Amy," said Polly, holding her hands +very tightly together, to keep her courage up, "you must love her +first." + +"Hey? I don't understand," said Jack, quite bewildered. + +"You must love her, and believe she's going to do nice things, and be +proud of her," went on Polly steadily. + +"How can I? She's such a little beggar," exclaimed Jack, "won't study, +and all that." + +"And you must make her the very best friend you have in all this world, +and let her see that you are glad that she is your sister, and tell her +things, and never, never scold." Then Polly stopped, and the color flew +up to the waves of brown hair on her brow. + +"I wish you'd go on," said Jack Loughead, as she paused. + +"Oh! I've said enough," said Polly, with a gasp, and beginning to wish +she could be anywhere out of the range of those great black eyes. "Do +forgive me," she begged; "I didn't mean to say anything to hurt you." + +Jack Loughead got up and straightened himself. "I'm much obliged to you, +Miss Pepper," he said. "I think I'm more to blame than Amy, poor child." + +"No, no," cried Polly, getting out of her chair, "I didn't mean so, +indeed I didn't, Mr. Loughead. Oh! what have I said? I think you have +done beautifully. How could you help things when you were not here? Oh! +Mr. Loughead, I do hope you will forgive me. I have only made matters +worse, I'm afraid," and poor Polly's face drooped. + +Jack Loughead turned with a sudden gesture. "Perhaps you'll believe me +when I say I've never had anything do me so much good in all my life, as +what you said." + +"What are those two talking about all this unconscionable time," Joel +was now exclaiming in the library, as he glanced up at the clock. "I +could finish that Amy Loughead in the sixteenth of a minute." + +Old Mr. King turned uneasily in his chair. "Who is this young Loughead?" +he asked of Jasper. + +Jasper, seeing that an answer was expected of him, drew himself up, and +said quickly, "Oh! he's the brother of that girl at the Salisbury +School, father. You know Polly goes over there to help her practice." + +"Ah!" said his father, "well, what is he doing here this morning, pray +tell?" + +"That's what I should like to know," chimed in Joel. + +"Well, last evening," said Jasper, with an effort to make things right +for Polly, "he was there when they were playing, and he seemed quite put +out at his sister." + +"Don't wonder," said Joel; "everybody says she's a silly." + +"And Polly tried to help Amy, and make the best of her. And the brother +asked if he might have a talk some time about his sister. Polly couldn't +help telling him 'yes,'" said Jasper, but with a pang at the handsome +stranger's delight as she said it. + +"A bad business," said the old gentleman irritably. "We do not want your +Lougheads coming here and taking up our time." + +"Of course not," declared Joel. + +"And I suppose he is an idle creature. Polly said something about his +traveling a good deal. It's a very bad business," repeated Mr. King. + +"Oh! he's all right in a business way," said Jasper, feeling angry +enough at himself that he was sorry at Jack Loughead's success. "He has +to travel; he's a member of the Bradbury and Graeme Company." + +"The Sydney, Australia, house?" asked Mr. King in a surprised tone. "So +you've looked him up, have you, Jasper?" + +"Oh! I happened to run across Hibbard Crane yesterday," said Jasper +carelessly, "and he gave me a few facts. That's about all I know, +father." + +And in came Polly, looking like a rose; and following her a tall young +man, with large, black eyes, whom she immediately led up to Mr. King's +chair. "Grandpapa," she said, "this is Mr. Loughead, Amy's brother, you +know"-- + +And Jasper went forward and put out his hand, as an old acquaintance of +the evening before, and Joel was introduced, and mumbled something about +"Glad to know you," immediately retreating into the corner, and then +there was a pause, which Polly broke by crying: "O, Grandpapa! I am +going to ask Amy to play at Dunraven for Phronsie's poor children. Why, +where is Phronsie?" looking around the room. + +"Oh! she went out a little while after Baby's exit," said Jasper, trying +to speak lightly. + +"Mr. Loughead thinks she'd do it, if I asked her," Polly went on in her +brightest way. "Now, that will be lovely, and the children will enjoy it +so much." + +"Isn't there anything I could do?" asked Jack Loughead, after the +Dunraven entertainment had been a bit discussed. + +Mr. King bowed his courtly old head. "I don't believe there is anything. +You are very kind, I'm sure." + +"Don't speak of kindness, sir," he said. "My time hangs heavy on my +hands just now." + +"He would like to be with his sister," said Jasper, after a glance at +Polly's face, and guilty of an aside to his father. + +"Oh!--yes," said Mr. King, "to be sure. Well, Mr. Loughead, and what +would you like to do for these poor children of Phronsie's Christmas +Day? We shall be very glad of your assistance." + +"I could bring out a stereopticon," said Jack; "no very new idea, but +I've a few pictures of places I've seen, and maybe the children would +like it for a half-hour or so." + +"Capital, capital," pronounced the old gentleman quite as if he had +proposed it. And before any one knew how it had come about, there was +Jack Loughead talking over the run down to Bedford with them all on +Christmas morning, as a matter of course, and as if it had been the +annual affair to him, that it was to all the others. + +"Quite a fine young man," said Mr. King, when Jack had at last run off +with a bright smile and word for all, "and Phronsie will be so pleased +to think of his doing all this for her poor children. Bless her! Well, +David, my man, are you back so soon?" + +"So soon, Grandpapa?" cried David, hurrying in from a morning down town +with another "Harvard Fresh," also home for the holidays. "Why, it is +luncheon time." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed old Mr. King, pulling out his watch. "Er--bless +me! the boy is right. Now, Polly, my child, you and I must put off our +engagement till afternoon. Then we'll have our Christmasing!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +CHRISTMAS AT DUNRAVEN. + + +"Grandpapa," cried Phronsie, flying down the platform, "the box of dolls +isn't here!" + +"Goodness me!" exclaimed old Mr. King, whirling around, "'tisn't +possible, child, that we've come off without that. It must be with the +other luggage." + +"O, no, Grandpapa dear!" declared Phronsie in great distress, and +clasping her hands to keep the tears back, "it really, surely hasn't +come; Polly says so." + +"Well, then, if Polly says so, it must have been left at home," said the +old gentleman, "and there's no use in my going to look over the +luggage," he groaned. + +"What's the matter?" cried Joel, rushing up, his jolly face aglow. + +"The worst thing that could possibly happen," said Mr. King irritably; +"Phronsie's box of dolls is left behind." Then he began to fume up and +down the platform, wholly lost to everything but his indignation. + +"Whew!" ejaculated Joel, "that is a miss!" and he looked down at +Phronsie, but her broad hat had drooped, the brown eyes seeking the +platform floor. "See here, Phronsie." + +Phronsie didn't speak for a breathing-space. "What is it, Joey?" then +she said, not looking up. + +"I'll go back after it; don't you worry, child." + +"Oh, but you can't," cried Phronsie, throwing her head back quickly, +"the train will come, and then you won't be here." + +"I'll take the next train; of course I can't get back for this," said +Joel, swallowing hard. "I'll bring the box all right," and he dashed +off. + +"Joel--oh, Joel!" cried Phronsie, running after him, "don't go!" she +implored. + +"Here! here! what's the matter?" cried old Mr. King, forgetting his +indignation to hurry after her. "Phronsie, wait; what is it, dear?" + +"Joel's gone," panted Phronsie, flying back, her broad hat falling off +to her shoulders, "oh, do stop him, Grandpapa dear! I'd rather not take +the dolls than to have Joel left." + +"Stop him? I can't. Bless me, here--somebody!" turning off to the little +knots of his party scattered over the platform, "where are you all?" + +Polly came running up at this, with a pale face. "Oh, Grandpapa!" she +began at sight of him. + +"Joel's gone home," announced Phronsie, clasping her hands in distress, +"after the box of dolls, and"-- + +"Joel's gone home!" echoed Polly, standing quite still. + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "oh, Polly, do stop him and bring him back." + +"She can't," cried the old gentleman; "that boy's legs have carried him +half over the town by this time. Nobody could stop him, child." + +And then, most of the little knots heard the commotion, and came +hurrying up with "What is it?" and "Oh dear, what's the matter?" in time +to hear Polly groan, "And Joe thought so much of going down to Dunraven +with us!" + +[Illustration: "JOEL'S GONE," PANTED PHRONSIE, FLYING BACK.] + +"Well, where is he?" cried Jasper, whirling around to look in all +directions; while Ben took a few long strides to peer around the +station, and David and the other "Harvard Fresh." who had been invited +to keep him company, ran, one up, and the other down, the long platform. + +"See here now," shouted old Mr. King so sharply that all the flying feet +were arrested at once, "every one of you come back! Goodness me, the +idea of the Bedford party being scattered to the four winds in this +fashion!" + +"I'd help if I could," said Mr. Hamilton Dyce, "but I really don't know +what it's all about yet." + +"Oh dear--dear!" Polly was yet wailing. Then she remembered, and threw +her arms around Phronsie who was standing quite still by her side. +"Phronsie, precious pet," and she picked up her pretty stuff gown to +kneel on the platform-floor to look into the little face, "don't feel +badly, dear. Joel will come on the next train." + +"But he won't be with us," said Phronsie slowly, and turning her brown +eyes piteously to Polly. + +"I know it," Polly smothered a sigh, "but we can't help it now. +Grandpapa is feeling dreadfully; oh, Phronsie, you wouldn't make him +sick, dear, for all the world!" + +Phronsie unclasped her hands, and went unsteadily over to the old +gentleman. "Joel will come on the next train, Grandpapa," she said. + +"Bless me, yes, of course," said Mr. King, seizing her hand; "I don't +see what we are making such a fuss for. He'll come on the next train." + +"What's the riot?" asked Livingston Bayley, sauntering up, and whirling +his walking-stick, "eh?" + +"Joel's absconded," said Mr. Dyce briefly. + +"Eh?" + +"Gone back after Phronsie's box of dolls," explained somebody else. + +"Oh dear me," cried Alexia Rhys, trying to get near Polly, "just like +that boy." She still called him that, in spite of his being a Harvard +man, "He's always making some sort of a fuss." + +"Perhaps the train will be late," suggested Mrs. Dyce, who, as Mary +Taylor, never could bear to see Phronsie unhappy. "Hamilton, if you +don't do something to help that child, I shall be sorry I married you," +she whispered in her husband's ear. + +"Late? it's late already," said Ben, pulling out his watch, "it's five +minutes past time." + +"Well, it may be our luck to have it late enough," said Jasper, with a +glance at Polly, "as it's Christmas day and a big train; so he may +possibly get here--he'll find a cabby that can make good time," he +added, with a forlorn attempt at comfort. + +Jack Loughead sauntered up and down, on the edge of the group, longing +to be of service, but feeling himself too new a friend to offer his +sympathy. + +"Who the Dickens is that cad?" asked Mr. Bayley in smothered wrath, to +Mrs. Dyce. + +"Why, don't you know? He's another friend of Polly's," said Mary Taylor +Dyce, smiling up sweetly into his face, "and he's going down to help +entertain Phronsie's poor children. Isn't he nice?" + +"Nice?" repeated Livingston Bayley with a black look at the tall figure +stalking on. "How do I know? Who is the fellow, any way?" + +But there was no time to reply. + +"Here comes the train!" cried Alexia. The warning bell struck, and the +rush of travelers from the waiting-room, began. "Oh dear me!" Then she +forgot all about her late unpleasantness with Pickering Dodge, and +running up to him, she seized his arm, "Oh, Pickering, do make the +conductor wait for that horrid boy." + +"I can't," said Pickering, "the train's late, any way. There, get on, +Alexia," putting out his hand to help her up the steps. + +"Oh, I forgot," she cried, drawing back, "that we'd had a fight. Tisn't +proper for you to help me, Pickering, and you oughtn't to ask it, till +you've begged my pardon." + +"Then it will be a long day before you receive my assistance," said +Pickering, lifting his cap, and turning on his heel at the same time. + +Jasper tried to get up to Polly's side, as she was hurrying Phronsie to +the car, old Mr. King holding fast to Phronsie's other hand, but +Livingston Bayley got there first. + +"Allow me, Miss Phronsie," he was saying, with extended hand. "'Pon me +word, it's a beastly crowd going to-day, sir." + +"She will do very well with my assistance," said the old gentleman, +still holding Phronsie's little glove. "And I suppose Christmas Day +belongs to everybody, eh, Bayley?" hurrying in. + +Polly, her foot on the lower step, turned and sent a despairing glance +down the platform, and Jasper who saw it through the crowd, fell back a +little to give a last look for Joel. + +"All aboard!" sang out the conductor, waving his hand. + +"Come--oh, come!" called Polly with a frantic gesture, from the doorway +of the car, as the train moved off. "Oh, Jasper!" as he swung himself up +beside her. + +"The next train runs down in an hour; don't feel badly, Polly," Jasper +had time to beg before they were drawn into the confusion of the car. + +But no one could pretend, with any sort of success, that Joel wasn't +missed; and Polly had all that she could do to chase away the sorrowful +expression of Phronsie's little face. And everybody tried his and her +best to make it as festive a time as possible; and the other passengers +nudged one another, and sent many an envious glance at the merry party. + +"It's Mr. King's family going down to Bedford," said the conductor to +one inquiring mind. "I take 'em every year," proudly. "He's powerful +rich; but this ain't his affair. It all b'longs to that little girl with +the big hat." Then he dashed off, and called a station; and after the +stopping and moving of the train again, he came back and sat on the arm +of the seat to finish his account. + +"You see, there was an old lady, a cousin of the old gentleman's, and +she made a will in favor of this child with the big hat." The conductor +pointed his thumb at Phronsie, leaning over Mr. King's shoulder, the +better to hear a wonderful story he was concocting for her benefit. +"Why, she's got some two or three millions." + +"What--that child?" cried the listeners, in amaze. + +[Illustration: JOEL SWINGING A BIG BOX RUSHED INTO DUNRAVEN HALL.] + +"Yes--the old lady was tough, but"--he dashed off again, called a +station, slammed the door, and was back in position in less time than it +takes to tell it--"she was took sudden, while Mr. King's folks was in +Europe, and now that child has turned a handsome old place down +yonder"--he pointed with his thumb in the direction of Bedford-- +"Dunraven Lodge, the old lady always called it, into a sort of a Home, +and she's chucked it full of children, mostly those whose fathers and +mothers are dead; and every Christmas Day Mr. King takes down a big +crowd, and"-- + +Here somebody called him off, not to be seen again till he put his head +in the doorway, and shouted "Bedford!" + + * * * * * + +Joel, swinging a big box as only Joel could, rushed into the spacious +hall at Dunraven Lodge. "How are you all!" + +Phronsie disentangled herself from a group around the big fire-place +where the long hickory logs snapped and blazed. + +"Oh, Josey!" she cried, precipitating herself into his long arms. + +"Here is the toggery," cried Joel, setting down the doll-box, while he +gathered Phronsie up in his arms. + +"And you, Josey," cried Phronsie, with a happy little hum, "you are all +here yourself," as the group left the fire, and surrounded them. + +"Well--well--well!" cried old Mr. King, lifting his head in its velvet +lounging cap from the sofa where he had been napping. "Are you really +here, Joe!" + +"Just like you," greeted Alexia, running down the broad oaken stairs. +"Here, he's come!" to Polly, appearing at the head. "We were finishing +the tree, and we heard the noise. Dear me, Joe, I should think it was a +cyclone," as she joined the group, Polly close behind. + +Joel tossed her a saucy answer, while Polly got on her tiptoes and +caught his crop of short black hair in her two hands. "Oh, Joe," she +said, dropping a kiss on it, "it was lovely in you to go back." + +Joel felt well repaid for losing the jolly run down, and the grand +_entree_ into Dunraven, his soul loved, but he covered up what he +thought, by pulling Phronsie into the middle of the hall. "Come on, +Phron," he said, "for a spin like old times." + +"See here," cried Alexia, "we ought to get back to that Tree, Polly +Pepper, or it won't be ready. Dear me, I dropped a box of frost all over +the stairs; Joel made such a noise." + +At the mere mention of such a possibility as the Tree not being ready, +everybody started; the last one in the procession, picking up the +doll-box, their movements somewhat quickened, as loud calls were now set +up above stairs, for "Polly--Polly!" + +"Come on," sang out Joel, who had paid his respects in a flying fashion +to Grandpapa's sofa, and leaping the stairs. "Goodness me, Alexia, I +should think you did spill this frost. Why didn't you go over more +ground?" + +"I don't believe we can save one bit," mourned Alexia, peering up the +stair-length, each step sparkling with myriad little frosty gems, as if +Jack Frost himself had sprinkled it with a Christmas hand. "Oh, dear, +why did you come in with such a noise, Joe Pepper?" + +"Just like a girl," said Joel; "jumps at everything and drops whatever +she has in her hand. You all go up the other stairs; I'll sweep this in +a minute, and save what I can." + +"Oh, Joe, don't stop; we want you for the Tree," begged Polly. "Phronsie +has been waiting downstairs all this time for you to come. Let one of +the maids do it;" Joe already had his head in a closet he knew of old, +opening into the big hall. + +"Give me the broom," said a voice close beside him. + +"Eh--what?" cried Joel, pulling out what he wanted--a soft floor brush. +"Oh, is that you, Loughead?" turning around. + +"I believe so," said Jack, laughing. "Here, give me the broom. I'm no +help about a Tree; I'll have the stuff up there soon," and before Joel +knew it, he was racing over the back stairs, wondering how it was he had +let that disagreeable Jack Loughead get hold of that broom. + +"It makes me think of our first Tree, in some way," said Polly softly, +with glistening eyes, looking up at the beautiful branching spruce, its +countless arms shaking out brilliant pendants, and gay with streamers +and candles, wherever a decoration could be placed, the whole tipped +with a shining star. "Oh, Bensie, can you ever forget that?" + +Ben looked down from the top of the step-ladder where he was adjusting +some last bit of ornament. + +"Never, Polly," he said, his eyes meeting hers. + +"That was so beautiful," cried Polly. "And we had it in our 'Provision +Room,' and Mrs. Henderson brought my bird over, and the other things the +last minute, and"-- + +"I had to," broke in Mrs. Henderson with a laugh, and shaking the snips +of green from her white apron, "for you and Ben would have discovered +the whole surprise. You were dreadful that day." + +"I'm glad somebody else was dreadful in those times, besides me," +observed Joel from among the branches, where he was tying on the several +presents Alexia handed to him. + +"Well, you see," said Polly, with rosy cheeks, "it was our first Tree, +and we were so afraid the children would find it out, and spoil all the +surprise." + +"And did we?" cried Phronsie, in intense excitement, emerging from the +depths of the Tree, the better to look at Polly, "did we, Polly, and +spoil it all?" + +"No, Pet," cried Polly, "you were just as good as could be." + +"I remember," said Joel, "you told us stories, Polly, in the kitchen, +and"-- + +"We tooted on our tin horns," finished David; "oh, Joe, do you remember +those horns?" + +"And that molasses candy," said Joel, smacking his lips, "I remember I +ate mine up before breakfast." + +"And did I have any?" asked Phronsie, turning from one to the other. + +"Yes, indeed, you did," answered Joel. + +"Why, did you think we'd forget you, Phronsie?" asked Polly, a bit +reproachfully. + +"And don't you remember it?" said David. + +"No," said Phronsie. "I don't; but I remember Seraphina's bonnet." + +"It was trimmed with some of Grandma Bascom's chicken's feathers," said +Joel. + +"And Mamsie made it out of an old bonnet string," said Polly. "Oh dear, +if only Mamsie were here to-day!" And a cloud came over her face. + +"But we've Baby Fisher now," said Ben cheerfully, looking down at her. +"He's worth staying at home for, Polly." + +"Of course he is," said Polly, her gayety returning. "And dear Papa +Fisher was master of ceremonies then; but he wouldn't enjoy it to-day +without Mamsie. So we oughtn't to wish him here." + +[Illustration: "And did we," cried Phronsie "find it out, +Polly, and spoil it all?"] + +"I wish you wouldn't begin about that Little Brown House, and what +elegant times you had in it," exclaimed Alexia, twitching at a present +Joel had just tied on, to be sure it was secure; "I shall think this +Tree is perfectly horrid, if you do, Polly Pepper." + +"Go on--do go on," begged several voices. Meanwhile, Jack Loughead had +come silently up into the long hall, and deposited a neat boxful of the +gleaming frost on the table, without any comments. + +"Dear me, there is so much to tell," cried Polly, with a little laugh, +"if we begin about Jappy's Tree." + +"Who's Tree?" cried Livingston Bayley, who had been wrinkling his brows +in great perplexity all through the recital. + +"Why, Jasper's," said Polly and Ben together; Joel and David coming in +as echoes. + +"You see," said Phronsie distinctly, "that Jasper and dear Grandpapa +sent the beautiful things to us." + +"Mrs. Pepper and Polly and Ben had gotten the Tree ready before," said +Jasper hastily. "Oh! didn't I want to be there!" he added. + +"Yes; Polly almost cried because you couldn't be," said Joel in among +the branches. + +"But she couldn't quite cry," said Davie, "because you see we children +would have found it out. Polly always sang in those days." + +"Do you remember how we used to run behind the wood-pile when we wanted +to plan the Tree, Polly," asked Ben, "to get away from Joel and Dave?" + +"You spent most all your time in the Little Brown House in sneaking off +from us," said Joel vindictively. + +"Well, we had to, if we ever did anything," said Ben coolly. + +"I should think so," remarked Livingston Bayley, delighted to give a +thrust at somebody. + +"And weren't the gilt balls pretty?" cried Polly, quite gone now in the +reminiscences, though her fingers kept on at their task; "you did cover +those nuts beautifully, Bensie. I don't see how you could, with such +snips of paper." + +"How did he make the balls?" asked Alexia, forgetting herself in her +interest, and coming up to Polly. + +"Why, we had some bits of bright paper, little bits, you know, and Ben +covered hickory nuts with them, and pasted them all as smoothly; you +can't think!" + +"Oh, my!" exclaimed Alexia. + +"And Polly strung all the pop-corn, and fixed the candle-ends somebody +gave Mamsie, and"-- + +"Candle-ends? Why didn't you have whole ones?" cried Alexia. + +"Why, we couldn't," said Polly, "and we were glad enough to get these. +Oh! the Tree looked just beautifully with them, I tell you." + +"You see," said Phronsie, drawing near to look into Alexia's face, "we +were very, very poor, Alexia. So Polly and Bensie made the Tree. Don't +you understand?" + +"It was really Bensie's Tree," said Polly honestly, "for I didn't +believe at first we could do it." + +"Oh, yes, you did, Polly," corrected Ben hastily; "at any rate, you saw +it in a minute." + +"And it's the first time you didn't believe a thing could be done, I +imagine," declared Jasper, with a bright nod at Polly. + +"Well, Bensie thought of this Tree, and made me see that we could do +it," persisted Polly, giving a little quirk to a rebellious pendant. + +Mrs. Henderson put the corner of her white apron to her eyes. "I always +have to," she said to Mrs. Dyce, "when the Little Brown House days bring +those blessed children back to me." + +Jack Loughead drew nearer yet; so near that he lost never a word. + +"You ought to have seen what a Santa Claus Ben made!" Polly was saying. + +"I cut your performance yesterday at Baby's Tree, all out, old fellow," +declared Ben, descending from the step-ladder and bestowing an +affectionate clap on Jasper's shoulder. + +"I don't doubt it," Jasper gave back. + +"We made the wig out of Mamsie's cushion hair," laughed Polly. "And we +had such a piece of work putting it all back the next morning." + +"And Polly shook flour all over me, for the snow," said Ben, laughing. + +"Come back, Alexia, and hand me some more gimcracks, do," cried Joel, +poking his head out of the branches to look at his late assistant. + +"Well, do go on about your Tree in the Brown House," begged Alexia, +tearing herself away to answer Joel's demands, "seeing you have begun. +What did you do next, Polly?" + +"Well, we all marched into the 'Provision Room,'" went on Polly, her +cheeks aglow, "expecting to see our Tree just as we had left it; all but +Ben, he was going to jump into the window at the right time, when the +first thing"-- + +"Polly sat right down on the floor, saying, 'Oh!'" cried Joel, taking +the words out of her mouth. + +"I couldn't help it, I was so surprised," said Polly, with shining eyes. +"There was a most beautiful Tree, full of just everything; and there was +Mamsie, almost crying, she was so happy; and there was Cherry singing +away in his cage, and the corner of the room was all a-bloom with +flowers, and"-- + +"And Grandma Bascom was there--wasn't she funny? She used to give us +hard old raisins sometimes," said Joel, afraid to show what he was +feeling. + +"And Phronsie screamed right out," went on Polly, "and Davie said it was +Fairyland." + +By this time, Alexia had dropped the present she was holding, and had +run back to Polly's side again, and somehow most of the other workers +followed her example, the circle of listeners closing around the little +bunch of Peppers. "And Jasper sent a Christmas greeting, beside the +Tree," Polly ended, "and it was perfectly lovely." + +"And Santa Claus and Polly took hold of hands and danced around the +Tree," said Joel; "I'll never forget that." + +"Well, you would better take hold of hands and dance down to the +recitation room," said Parson Henderson's deep voice, as he suddenly +appeared in their midst, "the children are all ready to give their +carols. Come." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE FESTIVITIES. + + +Phronsie looked down into the sea of eager faces "Oh, Grandpapa," she +exclaimed softly, and plucking his sleeve, "don't you think we might +hurry and begin?" + +"Dear me, Phronsie," cried the old gentleman, whirling around in his big +chair to look at her, "why, they aren't all in, child," glancing down +the aisle where Jasper as chief usher with Ben and the others were +busily settling the children. "Bless me, what is Joel doing?" + +Phronsie looked too, to see Joel hurrying up to the platform with a +little colored child perched on his shoulder. She was crying all over +his new coat, and at every step uttered a sharp scream. + +"Toss the little beggar out," advised Livingston Bayley, as Joel shot by +with his burden. + +"Here, Joe, I'll give her a seat" cried David from a little knot of +children, all turning excitedly around at the commotion, "there's just +one here." + +"Much obliged," said Joel, stalking on, "but she says she wants to see +Phronsie about something." + +Polly, who caught the last words, looked down reproachfully at him from +the platform where Phronsie always insisted that she should sit close to +her. "Can't help it," Joel telegraphed back, "I can't stop her crying." + +Phronsie heard now, and getting out of her chair, she stepped to the +platform edge. "Let me take her," she begged. + +"Phronsie, you can't have her up here!" Polly exclaimed, while old Mr. +King put forth an uneasy hand to stop all such proceedings, and two or +three of the others hurried up to remonstrate with Joel. + +"She wants to see me," said Phronsie, putting her cool cheek against the +dark little one; "it's the new child that came yesterday," and she took +her off from Joel's shoulder, and staggered back to her seat by Polly's +side. + +"Phronsie, do put her down," whispered Polly, "it's almost time to +begin," glancing off at the clock under its wealth of evergreen at the +farther end of the hall. "Here, do let me take her." + +But Phronsie was whispering so fast that she didn't hear. + +"What is it? Please tell me quickly, for it is almost time to have the +Tree." + +At mention of the Tree, the little creature sat straight in Phronsie's +white lap. "May I have some of it, if I am black?" she begged, her beady +eyes running with tears. + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "I've tied a big doll on it for you my very own +self." Then she put her lips on the dark little cheek. "Now you must get +down, for I have to talk to the children, and tell them all about +things, and why they have a Christmas." + +But the little thing huddled up against Phronsie's waist-ribbons. "I'm +the only one that's black," she said. "I want to stay here." + +"Now you see, Joel," began old Mr. King harshly. Phronsie laid a soft +hand on his arm. "Please, Grandpapa dear, may she have a little cricket +up here? She feels lonely down with the other children, for she's only +just come." + +"Oh, dear--dear!" groaned Polly, looking down at the little black object +in Phronsie's lap. "Now what shall we do?" This last to Jasper as he +hurried up. + +"I suppose we shall have to let her stay," he began. + +"When Phronsie looks like that, she won't ever let her go," declared +Ben, with a wise nod over at the two. + +"She's just as determined as she was that day when she would send Mr. +King her gingerbread boy," cried Polly, clasping her hands. + +Jasper gave her a bright smile. "I wouldn't worry, Polly," he said. +"See, Joel has just put a cricket--it's all right," looking into Polly's +troubled eyes. + +Phronsie, having seated her burden on the cricket at her feet, got out +of her own chair, and took one step toward the platform edge, beginning, +"Dear children." But the small creature left behind clutched the +floating hem of the white gown, and screamed harder than ever. + +"Bless me!" ejaculated Mr. King in great distress. "Here, will somebody +take this child down where she belongs?" While Polly with flushed +cheeks, leaned over, and tried to unclasp the little black fingers. + +"Go up there, Joe, and stop the row," said Livingston Bayley from the +visitor's seat at the end of the hall; "you started it." + +Jack Loughead took a step or two in the direction of the platform, then +thought better of it, and got back into his place again, hoping no one +had noticed him in the confusion. + +Phronsie leaned over as well as she could for the little hands pulling +her back. "Jasper," she begged, "do move the cricket so that she may sit +by me." + +And before anybody quite knew how it was done, there was the new child +sitting on her cricket, and huddled up against the soft folds of +Phronsie's white gown, while Phronsie, standing close to the platform +edge, began again, "Dear children, you know this is Christmas Day--your +very own Christmas Day. And every Christmas Day since you came to the +Home, I have told you the story of the dear beautiful Lady; and every +single Christmas I am going to tell it to you again, so that you will +never, never forget her." + +Here Phronsie turned, and pointed up to a large, full-length portrait of +Mrs. Chatterton hanging on the wall over the platform. It was painted in +her youth by a celebrated French artist, and represented a beautiful +young woman in a yellow satin gown, whose rich folds of lace fell away +from perfectly molded neck and arms. + +All the children stared at the portrait as usual in this stage of the +proceedings. "Now you must say after me, 'I thank my beautiful Lady for +this Home,'" said Phronsie slowly. + +"I thank my beautiful Lady for this Home," said every child distinctly. + +"Because without her I could not have had it," said Phronsie. "You must +always remember that, children. Now say it." She stood very patiently, +her hands folded together, and waited to hear them repeat it. + +"Because without her I could not have had it," said the children, one or +two coming in shrilly as a belated echo. + +[Illustration: "Will you?" asked Phronsie, looking down into their +faces.] + +"And I thank her for the beautiful Tree," said Phronsie. "Now say it, +please." + +"I thank her for the beautiful Tree," shouted the children, craning +their necks away from the portrait to get a glimpse of the +curtain-veiled Tree in the other room. "Please can't we have it now?" +begged several voices. + +"No; not until you all hear the story. Well, now, God took the beautiful +Lady away to Heaven; but she is always going to be here too," again +Phronsie pointed to the portrait, "just as long as there is any Home. +And she is going to smile at you, because you are all going to be good +children and try to study and learn all that dear Mr. Henderson teaches +you; and you are going to obey every single thing that dear Mrs. +Henderson tells you, just as soon as she speaks," said Phronsie slowly, +and turning her head to look at the different rows. + +"I hope we'll be forgiven for sitting here and listening to old lady +Chatterton's praises," whispered Mrs. Hamilton Dyce to her husband. "It +makes me feel dreadfully wicked to swallow it all without a protest." + +"Oh, we've swallowed that annually for three years now," said Mr. Dyce +with a little laugh, "and grown callous. Your face is just as bad as it +was the first time Phronsie eulogized her." + +"I can't help it," declared his wife, "when I think of that dreadful +old"-- + +"Oh, come," remonstrated her husband, "let's bury the past; Phronsie +has." + +"Phronsie!" ejaculated Mrs. Dyce. "Oh, that blessed child! Just hear her +now." + +"So on this Christmas Day," Phronsie was saying in clear tones, "you are +to remember that you wouldn't have had this Tree but for the beautiful +Lady; and on every single other day, you must remember that you wouldn't +ever have had this Home; not a bit of any of it"--here she turned and +looked around the picture-hung walls, and out of the long windows to the +dark pines and firs of the broad lawn, tossing their snow-laden +branches, "but for the beautiful lady. And you must every one of you +help to make this Home just the very best Home that ever was. Will you?" +And then she smiled down into their faces while she waited for her +answer. + +"Oh, yes, yes," screamed the children, every one. The little black +creature got off from her cricket at Phronsie's feet to look into her +face. "And I will too," she cried. + +"And now you all want to thank Miss Phronsie for her kind words, we +know," Jasper cried at this point, hurrying into the middle of the +aisle, "and so, children, you may all stand up and say 'Thank you,' and +wave your handkerchiefs." + +Up flew all the rows of children to their feet, and a cloud of tiny +white squares of cambric fluttered in the air, and the children kept +piping out, "Thank you--Thank you." And old Mr. King began a cheer for +Phronsie, and another for the children; and then somebody down at the +end of the long hall set up another for Mr. King, and somebody else +started one for Mr. Henderson, and another for Mrs. Henderson, and there +was plenty of noise, and high above it all rang the peals of happy, +childish laughter. And when it was all done, everybody pausing to take +breath, then Amy Loughead sent out the finest march ever heard, from the +grand piano, and Polly and Jasper and all the rest marshaled the +children into a procession, and Phronsie clinging to old Mr. King's hand +on the one side, and holding fast to the small black palm on the other, +away they all went, the visitors falling into line, around and around +the big hall, till at last--oh! at last, they turned into the Enchanted +Land that held the wonderful Christmas Tree. And when they were all +before it, and Phronsie in the center, she lifted her hand, and the room +became so still one could hear a pin drop. And then the little children +who had sung the carols in the morning stepped forward and began, "It +came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old"-- + +And Phronsie drew a long breath, and folded her hands, not stirring till +the very last word died on the air. + +And then Jasper and the others slowly drew aside the white curtain; and +oh! the dazzling, beautiful apparition that greeted every one's eyes! No +one could stop the children's noisy delight, and the best of it was, +that no one wanted to. So for the next few moments it was exactly like +the merry time over the Tree in the "Provision Room" of the Little Brown +House years ago, just as Polly had said; only there was ever so much +more of it, because there were ever so many more children to make it! + +And Polly and Ben were like children again themselves; and David and +Joel were everywhere helping on the fun; in which excitement the other +Harvard man and even Livingston Bayley were not ashamed to take a most +active part, as Jasper, who had borrowed Santa Claus' attire for this +occasion, now made his appearance with a most astonishing bow. And then +the presents began to fly from the Tree, and Jack Loughead seemed to be +all arms, for he was so tall he could reach down the hanging gifts from +the higher branches, so that he was in great demand; and Pickering +Dodge, one eye on all of Polly's movements, worked furiously, and Alexia +Rhys and Cathie Harrison didn't give themselves hardly time to breathe; +and there was quite enough for Mr. Alstyne and the Cabots and Hamilton +Dyce to do, and everybody else, for that matter, to pass around the +presents. And in the midst of it all, a big doll, resplendent in a red +satin gown, and an astonishing hat, was untied from the tree. + +"O, I want to give it to her myself!" cried Phronsie. + +"So you shall," declared Jasper, handing it to her. + +"Susan, this is your very own child," said Phronsie, turning to the +little colored girl at her side. "Now you won't feel lonely ever, will +you?" and she laid the doll carefully into the outstretched arms. + +And at last the green branches had shaken off their wealth of gifts, and +the shining candles began to go out, one by one. + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, coming up to old Mr. King and Phronsie, with a +basket of mottoes and bonbons enough to satisfy the demands of the most +exacting Children's Home, "we ought to get our paper caps on." + +"Bless me!" ejaculated old Mr. King, pulling out his watch, "it can't be +time to march. Ah, it's a quarter of four this minute. Here, child," to +Phronsie, "pick out your bonbon so that I can snap it with you." + +Phronsie gravely regarded the pretty bonbons in Polly's basket. "I must +pick out yours first, Grandpapa," she said slowly, lifting a silver +paper-and-lace arrangement with a bunch of forget-me-nots in the center. +"I think this is pretty." + +"So it is; most beautiful, dear," said the old gentleman, in great +satisfaction. "Now we must crack it, I suppose." So he took hold of one +end, and Phronsie held fast to the other of the bonbon, and a sharp +little report gave the signal for all the bonbons to be opened. +Thereupon, everybody, old and young, hurried to secure one, and great +was the snapping and cracking that now followed. + +"Oh, Grandpapa, isn't your cap pretty?" exclaimed Phronsie in pleased +surprise, drawing forth a pink and yellow crinkled tissue bit. "See," +smoothing it out with a gentle hand, "it's a crown, Grandpapa!" + +"Now that's perfectly lovely!" cried Polly, setting down her basket. +"Here, let me help you, child--there, that's straight. Now, Grandpapa, +please bend over so that Phronsie can put it on." + +Instead, the old gentleman dropped to one knee. "Now, dear," he said +gallantly. So Phronsie set the pink and yellow crown on his white hair, +stepping back gravely to view the effect. + +"It is so very nice, dear Grandpapa," she said, coming back to his side. +So old Mr. King stood up, with quite a regal air, and Phronsie had a +little blue and white paper bonnet tied under her chin by Grandpapa's +own hand. And caps were flying on to all the heads, and each right hand +held a tinkling little bell that had swung right merrily on a green +branch-tip. And away to Amy Loughead's second march--on and on, jangling +their bells, the procession went, through the long hall, till old Mr. +King and Phronsie who led, turned down the broad staircase, and into the +dining-room; and here the guests stood on either side of the doorway +while the little Home children passed up through their midst. + +And there were two long tables, one for the Home children, with a place +for Phronsie at its head, and another for old Mr. King at the foot. And +the other table was for the older people; both gay with Christmas holly, +and sweet with flowers. And when all were seated, and a hush fell upon +the big room, Phronsie lifted her hand. + + _We Thank Thee, oh Lord, + For this Christmas Day, + And may we love Thee + And serve Thee alway. + For Jesus Christ + The Holy Child's sake. + Amen._ + +It rang out clear and sweet in childish treble, floating off into the +halls and big rooms. + +"Now, Candace," Phronsie lifted a plate of biscuits, and a comfortable +figure of a colored woman, resplendent in the gayest of turbans and a +smart stuff gown, made its appearance by Phronsie's chair. + +"I'm here, honey," and Candace's broad palm received the first plate to +be passed, which opened the ceremony of the Christmas feast. + +Oh, this Christmas feast at Dunraven! It surpassed all the other +Dunraven Christmases on record; everybody said so. And at last, when no +one could possibly eat more, all the merry roomful, young and old, must +have a holly sprig fastened to the coat, or gown, or apron, and the +procession was formed to march back to the hall; and Mr. Jack Loughead's +stereopticon flashed out the most beautiful pictures, that his bright +descriptions explained to the delighted children; and then games and +romps, and more bonbons, and favors and flowers; and at last the sleighs +and barges for Mr. King's party were drawn up in the moonlight, at the +door of Dunraven, and the Christmas at the Home was only a beautiful +memory. + +"Miss Mary"--Mr. Livingston Bayley put out his brown driving +glove--"this way," trying to lead her off from the gay group on the +snow-covered veranda. + +"Why, I don't understand," began Polly, in the midst of trying to make +Phronsie see that it was not necessary to go back and comfort Susan with +another good-by, and turning a bewildered face up at him. + +"Why, I certainly supposed you accepted my offer to drive you to the +station," said Mr. Bayley hurriedly, and still extending his hand. +"Come, Miss Pepper." + +"Come, Polly, I've a seat for you," cried Alexia, just flying into the +biggest barge. "Do hurry, Polly." + +"Polly," called Jasper. She could see that he stood by one of the +sleighs, beckoning to her. + +Meantime, Phronsie had been borne off by old Mr. King, and Polly could +hear her say, "Somebody get Polly a seat, please." + +"I considered it a promise," Livingston Bayley was saying under cover of +the gay confusion. "And accordingly I prepared myself. But of course if +you do not wish to fulfill it, Miss Pepper, why, I"-- + +"Oh, no, no," cried Polly hastily, "if you really thought I promised +you, Mr. Bayley, I will go, thank you," and without a backward glance at +the others, she moved off to the gay little cutter where the horse stood +shaking his bells impatiently. + +"Where's Polly?" somebody called out. And somebody else peered down the +row of vehicles, and answered, "Mr. Bayley's driving her." + +And they were all off. + +Polly kept saying to herself, "Oh, dear, dear, what could I have said to +make him think I would go with him?" And Livingston Bayley smiled +happily to himself under the collar of his driving coat; and the +sparkling snow cut into little crystals by the horse's flying feet, +dashed into their faces, and the scraps of laughter and merry nonsense +from the other sleighs, made Polly want nothing so much as to cower down +into the corner of the big fur robes, for a good cry. + +And before she knew it, Mr. Bayley had turned off, leaving the gay +procession on the main road. + +"Oh!" cried Polly then, and starting forward, "Mr. Bayley, why, we're +off the road!" + +"I know a short cut to the depot," he answered hastily, "it's a better +way." + +"But we may miss the train--oh, do turn back, and overtake them," begged +Polly, in a tremor. + +"This is a vastly better road," said Mr. Bayley, and instead of turning +back, he flicked the horse lightly with his whip. "You'll say, Miss +Mary, that it's much better this way." He tried to laugh. "Isn't the +sleighing superb?" + +"Oh, yes--oh dear me!" cried poor Polly, straining her eyes to catch a +sight of the last vehicle with its merry load. "Indeed, Mr. Bayley, I'm +afraid we sha'n't get to the depot in time. There may be drifts on this +road, or something to delay us." + +"Oh, no, indeed!" cried Livingston Bayley confidently, now smiling again +at his forethought in driving over this very identical piece of roadway, +when the preparations for the Christmas festivity were keeping all the +other people busy at Dunraven, and leaving him free to provide himself +with sleighing facilities for the evening. "Don't be troubled, I know +all about it; I assure you, Miss Mary, we shall reach the depot as soon +as the rest of the party do, for it's really a shorter cut." + +Polly beat her foot impatiently on the warm foot-muff he had wrung with +difficulty from the livery keeper, and counted the moments, unable to +say a word. + +"Miss Mary"--suddenly Mr. Livingston Bayley turned--"everything is +forgiven under such circumstances, I believe," and he laughed. + +Polly didn't speak, only half hearing the words, her heart on the rest +of the party, every instant being carried further from her. + +"And you must have seen--'pon me word it is impossible that you didn't +see that--that"-- + +"Oh, dear," burst out Polly suddenly, and peering anxiously down the +white winding highway. "If there should be a drift on the road!" + +Livingston Bayley bit his lip angrily. "'Pon me word, Miss Mary," he +began, "you are the first girl I ever cared to speak to, and now you +can't think of anything but the roads." + +Still Polly peered into the unbroken whiteness of the thoroughfare, +lined by the snow-laden pines and spruces, all inextricably mixed as the +sleigh spun by. It was too late to turn back now, she knew; the best +that could be done, was to hurry on--and she began to count the +hoof-beats and to speculate how long it would be before they would see +the lights of the little station, and find the lost party again. + +"I might have spoken to a great many other girls," Livingston Bayley was +saying, "and I really don't know why I didn't choose one of them. +Another man in my place would, and you must do me the justice to +acknowledge it; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary." + +Polly tore off her gaze from the snowy fields where the branches of the +trees were making little zigzag paths in the moonlight, to fasten it on +as much of his face as was visible between his cap and his high collar. + +"And I really shouldn't think you would play with me," declared Mr. +Bayley, nervously fingering the whip-handle, "I shouldn't, don't you +know, because you are not the sort of girl to do that thing. 'Pon me +word, you're not, Miss Mary." + +"I? what do you mean?" cried poor Polly, growing more and more +bewildered. + +"Why I--I--of course you must know; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary, +for it began five years ago, before you went abroad, don't you know?" + +Polly sank back among her fur robes while he went on. + +"And I've done what no other fellow would, I'm sure," he said +incoherently, "in my place, kept constant, don't you know, to one idea. +Been with other girls, of course, but only really made up my mind to +marry you. 'Pon me word, I didn't, Miss Mary." + +"And you've brought me out, away from the rest of the party, to tell me +this," exclaimed Polly, springing forward to sit erect with flashing +eyes. "How good of you, Mr. Bayley, to announce your intention to marry +me." + +"You can't blame me," cried Mr. Bayley in an injured way. "That cad of a +Loughead means to speak soon--'pon me word, the fellow does. And I've +never changed my mind about it since I made it up, even when you began +to give music lessons." + +"Oh, how extremely kind," cried Polly. + +"Don't put it that way," he began deprecatingly. "I couldn't help it, +don't you know, for I liked you awfully from the first, and always +intended to marry you. You shall have everything in the world that you +want, and go everywhere. And my family, you know, has an _entree_ +to any society that's worth anything." + +"I wouldn't marry you," cried Polly stormily, "if you could give me all +the gold in the world; and as for family," here she sat quite erect with +shining eyes, "the Peppers have always been the loveliest people that +ever lived--the very loveliest--oh"--she broke off suddenly, starting +forward--"there's something on the road; see, Mr. Bayley!" + +And spinning along, the horse now making up his mind to get to the depot +in time, they both saw a big wagon out of which protruded two or three +bags evidently containing apples and potatoes; one of the wheels +determining to perform no more service for its master, was resting +independently on the snowy thoroughfare, for horse and driver were gone. + +"I beg your pardon," exclaimed Mr. Livingston Bayley suddenly, at sight +of this, "for bringing you around here. But how was I to know of that +beastly wreck?" + +"We must get out," said Polly, springing off from her side of the +sleigh, "and lead the horse around." + +But this was not so easy a matter; for the farmer's wagon had stopped in +the narrowest part of the road, either side shelving off, under its +treacherous covering of snow. At last, after all sorts of ineffectual +attempts on Mr. Bayley's part to induce the horse to stir a step, Polly +desperately laid her hand on the bridle. "Let me try," she said. "There, +you good creature," patting the horse's nose; "come, that's a dear old +fellow," and they never knew quite how, but in the course of time, they +were all on the other side of the wreck, and Mr. Livingston Bayley was +helping her into the sleigh, and showering her with profuse apologies +for the whole thing. + +"Never mind," said Polly, as she saw his distress, "only never say such +perfectly dreadful things to me again. And now, hurry just as fast as +you can, please!" + +And presently a swift turn brought the twinkling lights of the little +station to view, and there was the entire party calling to them as they +now spied their approach, to "Hurry up!" and there also was the train, +holding its breath in curbed impatience to be off. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BAD NEWS. + + +"Oh, Mamsie," cried Polly in dismay, "must Papa Fisher know?" + +"Certainly," said Mrs. Fisher firmly, "your father must be told every +thing." + +"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, turning off in dismay, "it seems so--so +unfair to Mr. Bayley. Mightn't it be just as if he hadn't spoken, +Mamsie?" She came back now to her mother's side, and looked anxiously +into the black eyes. + +"But he has spoken," said Mother Fisher, "and your father must be told. +Why, Polly, that isn't like you, child, to want to keep anything from +him," she added reproachfully. + +"Oh! I don't--I couldn't ever in all this world keep anything from +Father Fisher," declared Polly vehemently, "only," and the color flew in +rosy waves over her face, "this doesn't seem like my secret, Mamsie. And +Mr. Bayley would feel so badly to have it known," and her head drooped. + +"Still it must be known by your father," said her mother firmly, "and I +must tell Mr. King. Then it need go no further." + +"Oh, Mamsie!" exclaimed Polly, in a sharp tone of distress, "you +wouldn't ever in all this world tell Grandpapa!" + +"I most certainly shall," declared Mrs. Fisher. "He ought to know +everything that concerns you, Polly, and each one of you children. It is +his right." + +Polly sat down in the nearest chair and clasped her hands. "Grandpapa +will show Mr. Bayley that he doesn't like it," she mourned, "and it will +hurt his feelings." + +Mrs. Fisher's lip curled. "No more do I like it," she said curtly. "In +the first place to speak to you at all; and then to take such a way to +do it; it wasn't a nice thing at all, child, for Mr. Bayley to do," here +Mrs. Fisher walked to the window, her irritation getting the better of +her, so that Polly might not see her face. + +"But he didn't mean to speak then--that is"--began Polly. + +"He should have spoken to your father or to Mr. King," said Mrs. Fisher, +coming back to face Polly, "but I presume the young man didn't know any +better, or at least, he didn't think, and that's enough to say about +that. But as for not telling Mr. King about it, why, it isn't to be +thought of for a minute. So I best have it over with at once." And with +a reassuring smile at Polly she went out, and closed the door. + +"Oh, dear me," cried poor Polly, left alone; and springing out of her +chair, she began to pace the floor. "Now it will be perfectly dreadful +for Mr. Bayley. Grandpapa will be very angry; he never liked him; and +now he can't help showing what he feels. Oh! why did Mr. Bayley speak." + +"Polly," called Jasper's voice, out in the hall. + +For the first time in her life, she felt like running away from his +call. "Oh! I can't go out; he'll guess something is the matter," she +cried to herself. + +"Polly?" and there was a rap at the door. + +"Yes," said Polly from within. + +"Can I see you a minute?" + +Polly slowly opened the door, and tried to lift her brown eyes to his +face. + +"Oh, Polly," he pretended not to notice any thing amiss with her, "I +came to tell you first; and you can help me to break it to father." + +"Oh, what is it?" cried Polly, looking up quickly. "Oh, Jasper," as she +saw that his face was drawn with the effort not to let her see the +distress he was in. + +He tried to cover up his anxiety, but she saw a yellow paper in his +hand. "Oh, Jasper, you've a telegram," she cried breathlessly. + +"Polly," said Jasper. He took her hand and held it firmly, "you will +help father and me to bear it, I know." + +"Oh, Jasper, I will," promised Polly, clinging to his hand. "Don't be +afraid to tell me, Jasper." + +"Listen; Marian has been thrown from her sleigh this morning; the horses +ran," said Jasper hurriedly. "The telegram says 'Come.' She may be +living, Polly; don't look so." + +For the room grew suddenly so dark to her that she wavered and would +have fallen had he not caught her. "I won't faint," she cried, "Jasper, +don't be afraid. There, I'm all right. Now, oh, what can I do?" + +"Could you go with me when I tell father?" asked Jasper. "I am so afraid +I shall break it to him too sharply; and you know it won't do for him to +be startled. If you could, Polly." + +For the second time, everything seemed to turn black before her eyes, +but Polly said bravely, "Yes, I'll go, Jasper." And presently, they +hardly knew how, the two found themselves at old Mr. King's door. + +There was a sound of voices within. "Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "I +forgot Mamsie was here." + +Jasper looked his surprise, but said nothing, and as they stood there +irresolutely, Mrs. Fisher opened the door and came out. + +"Why, Polly!" she exclaimed. + +"Oh, Mrs. Fisher," cried Jasper, "we can't explain now, we must see +father. But Polly will go and tell you," and in another minute they were +both standing before Mr. King. + +The old gentleman was walking up and down his apartment, fuming at every +step. "The presumption of the fellow! How did he dare without speaking +to me! Oh, eh, Polly"--and then he caught sight of Jasper, back of her. + +"Father," began Jasper, "I've had a telegram from brother Mason." + +"Oh, now what has he been doing?" cried Mr. King irritably. "I do wish +Mason wouldn't be so abrupt in his movements. I suppose he is going +abroad again. Well, let's hear." + +Jasper tried to speak, but instead, looked at Polly. + +"Dear Grandpapa," cried Polly, going unsteadily to the old gentleman's +side, and taking his hand in both of hers. "Oh, we must tell you +something very bad, and we don't know how to tell it, Grandpapa." She +looked up piteously into his face. + +Old Mr. King put forth his other hand, and seized the back of a chair to +steady himself. "Tell me at once, Polly," he said hoarsely. "It +isn't--Marian?" It was all he could do to utter the name. + +"She is hurt," said Polly, going to the heart of the matter without +delay, "but oh, Grandpapa, it may not be very badly, and they want +Jasper to go on to New York." + +[Illustration: "WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO TELL IT, GRANDPAPA."] + +Mr. King turned to Jasper. "Give me the telegram, my boy," he said +through white lips; when it was all read, "Now tell Philip to pack me a +portmanteau." + +"Father," said Jasper, "you are not going?" + +"No questions are to be asked, Jasper," said his father. "Be so good as +to see that Philip packs quickly, and that you are ready. And now, +Polly," the old gentleman turned to her, "I want to take you along, +child, if your mother is willing. Will you go?" + +"Oh, Grandpapa," cried Polly, "if I only may; oh, do take me." + +"I don't want to go without you," said Mr. King. "There, run, child, and +ask your mother if you may go. Send Phronsie to me; I must explain +matters to her and bid her good-by." + +Alexia and some of the other girls were hurrying in the east doorway of +the King mansion, an hour later. "Oh, where's Polly, Mrs. Fisher?" cried +Cathie Harrison. + +"Polly has gone," said Mrs. Fisher, coming down the stairs. She looked +as if she wanted to cry, but her hands held the basket of sewing as +firmly as if no bad news had fallen upon the home. + +"Gone?" cried all the girls. "Oh, Mrs. Fisher, where? Do tell us where +Polly is?" + +For answer Mrs. Fisher made them all go into the little reception room +in an angle of the hall, where she told them the whole story. + +"If that isn't perfectly dreadful," cried Alexia Rhys, throwing her muff +into a chair, and herself on an ottoman. "Why, we were going to make up +a theater party for to-morrow night. Mrs. Fisher, and now Polly is +gone." + +Her look of dismay was copied by every girl so exactly, that Mrs. Fisher +had no relief in turning to any of the other four. + +"And there is her Recital--what will she do about that?" cried Alexia, +rushing on in her complaint. "Perhaps she'll give it up, after all," she +added, brightening. "Now I most know she will, Mrs. Fisher," and she +started up and began to pirouette around the room. + +"Of course she has had to postpone it," said Mrs. Fisher, looking after +her, "and she told Joel to write the notes to the pupils explaining +matters. But never you fear, Alexia, that Polly will give up that +Recital for good and all," she added, with a wise nod at her. + +"Well, she must give it up for now anyway," said Alexia, coming to a +pause to take breath, "that's some comfort. To think of Joe writing +Polly's notes to the girls, oh, dear me!" + +"Let us go and help him," proposed Cathie Harrison suddenly. "He must +hate to do such poky work." + +"Oh, dear me," began Alexia, taking up her little bag to look at the +tiny watch in one corner. "We haven't the time. Yes--come on," she burst +out incoherently; "where is he, Mrs. Fisher?" + +"In the library, hard at work," said Mrs. Fisher, with a bright smile at +them all. + +"Come on, girls," said Alexia, rushing on. "Now that's what I admire +Mrs. Fisher for," she said, when they were well in the hall, "she shows +when she's not pleased, and when she likes what a body does, as well." + +"I think she's just elegant," declared Cathie Harrison, who had +privately done a good deal of worshiping at Mrs. Fisher's shrine. + +"She's a dear," voted Alexia. "Well, do come on. Oh, Joe!" as they +reached the library door. + +Joel sat back of the writing table, a mass of Polly's note paper and +envelopes sprawled before him, his head on his hands and his elbows on +the table. Back of him paced Pickering Dodge with a worried expression +of countenance. + +"You do look so funny," burst out Alexia with a laugh; "doesn't he, +girls?" to the bright bevy following her. + +"I guess you would if you were in my place," growled Joel, scarcely +giving them a glance. "Go away, Alexia; you can't get me into a scrape +this morning--I've to dig at this." + +"I don't want to get you into a scrape," cried Alexia, with a cold +shoulder to Pickering, who had been claimed by the other girls, "we're +going to help you." + +"Is that so?" cried Joel radiantly; "then I say you're just jolly, +Alexia," and he beamed at her. + +"Yes, we want to help," echoed Cathie, drawing up a chair to the other +side of the table. "Now do set us to work, Joel." + +"Indeed and I will," he cried, spreading a clear place with a reckless +hand. + +"Take care," warned Alexia, "take care; you are spoiling all Polly's +note paper. I wouldn't let you at my things, I can tell you, Joel +Pepper!" + +"As if I'd ever do this sort of thing for you, Alexia," threw back Joel. + +"Well, do let us begin," begged Cathie, impatiently drumming on the +table, as the other two girls and Pickering Dodge drew near. + +"Yes, do," cried the girls, "and we'll toss those notes off in no time." + +"I'll help you clear the table," cried Pickering; "do let me. I can't +write those notes, but I can get the place ready;" and he began to pile +the books on a chair. As he went around to Alexia's place she looked up +and fixed her gaze past him, not noticing his attempt to speak. + +"All right; if she wants to act like that, I'm willing," said Pickering +to himself savagely and coolly going on with his work. + +"Oh, dear me," groaned Cathie Harrison, "isn't it perfectly dreadful to +have that dear sweet Mrs. Whitney hurt?" + +"Ow!" exclaimed Joel. + +"Do stop," cried Alexia with a nudge. "Haven't you any more sense, +Cathie Harrison, than to speak of it?" + +[Illustration: "NOW DO SET US TO WORK, JOEL"] + +Cathie smothered a retort, and bit her lips to keep it back. + +"Well, dear me, we are not working much," cried Alexia, pulling off her +gloves; "how many notes have you to write, Joe?" + +"Oh, a dozen, I believe," said Joel; "that is, counting this one." + +"To whom is that?" asked Alexia, peering over his shoulder. "Oh, to Amy +Loughead." + +"Yes, I promised Polly this should go first. That Loughead girl was +expecting her over this morning. Oh, she's a precious nuisance," +grumbled Joel, dipping his pen in the ink. + +"Well, then, I will write to Desiree Frye," said Alexia. "She was going +to play a solo, Polly said, at the Recital. Oh, dear me, what shall I +say?" + +"Polly said tell them all what had happened, and that she should stay +away as long as Aunty needed her, but she hoped to be home soon, and she +would write them from New York." + +"Oh, Joe, what a lot," exclaimed Alexia, leaving her pen poised in mid +air. + +"Cut it short, then," said Joel. "I don't care, only that's the sense of +it." + +"Oh, dear," began one of the girls, "I can't bear to write of the +accident, and in the holidays, too." + +Alexia made an uneasy gesture, scrawled two or three words, then threw +down her pen and got out of her chair. "It's no use," she cried, running +up to Pickering, who, his hands in his pockets, had his back to them +all, and was looking out of the window. "I can't let myself do anything +till I've said I'm sorry I was so cross," and she put out her hand. + +"Eh?" exclaimed Pickering, whirling around in astonishment. "Oh, dear +me!" and he pulled his right hand out of his pocket, and extended it to +her. + +"Mrs. Whitney has got hurt, and she was always sweet, and never said +cross things, and oh, dear me!" cried Alexia incoherently, as he shook +her hand violently. + +"And I'm glad enough to have it made up," declared Pickering decidedly. +"It's bad enough to have so much trouble in the world, without getting +into fights with people you've known ever since you can remember." + +"Trouble?" repeated Alexia wonderingly. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Whitney's +accident, you mean; I know it's awful for all of us." + +Pickering Dodge turned on his heel and walked off abruptly, and she ran +back to her work with a final stare at him. + +"I know now," she said to herself wisely, "and I've been mean enough to +hurt him when he was bearing it. Oh, dear me, things are getting so +mixed up!" + +"Polly, you won't leave me, will you, till I get able to sit up?" cried +Mrs. Whitney one day, a week after. + +"No, Aunty, indeed I won't," declared Polly, leaning over to drop a kiss +on the soft hair against the pillows. + +Mrs. Whitney put up her hands to draw down the young face. + +"Oh, Aunty!" exclaimed Polly in dismay, "be careful; you know doctor +said you mustn't raise your arms." + +"Well, just let me kiss you, dear, then," said Mrs. Whitney with a wan +little smile. "Oh, Polly," when the kiss and two or three others had +been dropped on the rosy cheek, "you are sure you can stay with me?" + +"I'm sure I can, and I will," said Polly firmly. "Oh, Aunty, I shall be +so glad to be with you; you can't think how glad." + +She softly patted the pillows into the position Mrs. Whitney best liked, +and then stood off a bit and beamed at her. + +"It's dreadfully selfish in me to keep you," said Mrs. Whitney, "when +you love your work so; and what will the music scholars do, Polly?" + +"Oh, they are all right," said Polly gaily, "they're working like +beavers. Indeed, Aunty, I believe they'll practice a great deal more +than if I were home to be talking to them all the while." + +"You are a dear blessed comfort, Polly," said Mrs. Whitney, turning on +her pillow with a sigh of relief. "Now I do believe I shall get up very +soon. But Jasper must go back; it won't do for him to stay away any +longer from his business. Promise me, Polly, that you will make him see +that he ought to go." + +"I'll try, Aunty," said Polly, "and now that you are so much better, +why, I do believe that Jasper will be willing to go." + +"Oh, do make him," begged Mrs. Whitney, and then she tucked her hand +under her cheek, and the first thing Polly knew she heard the slow, +regular breathing that told she was asleep. + +"Now that's just lovely," cried Polly softly, "and I will run and speak +to Jasper this very minute, for he really ought to go back to his +business." + +But instead of doing this, she met a young girl, as she was running +through the hall, who stopped her and asked, "Can I see Mr. King?" + +"What!" cried Polly, astonished that the domestics had admitted any one, +as it was against the orders. + +"Oh, I am a relation," said the girl coolly, "and I told the man at the +door that I should come in; and he said then I must wait, for I could +not see Mr. King now, and he put me up in that little reception room, +but I just walked out to meet the first person coming in the hall. Will +you be so kind as to arrange it?" + +She looked as if she fully expected to have her wish fulfilled, and her +gaze wandered confidently around the picture-hung wall, until such time +as Polly could answer. + +"I'll see," said Polly, who couldn't help smiling, "what I can do for +you; but you mustn't be disappointed if Grandpapa doesn't feel able to +see you. He is very much occupied, you know, with his daughter's ill"-- + +"Oh, I understand," said the other girl, guilty of interrupting, "but he +will see me, I know," and her light blue eyes were as calm as ever. + +"Who shall I tell him wants to see him?" asked Polly, her own eyes wide +at the stranger and her ways. + +"Oh, you needn't tell him any name," said the girl carelessly. + +"Then I certainly shall not tell him you wish to see him, unless I carry +your name to him," Polly said quite firmly, and she looked steadily into +the fair face before her. + +"Oh, dear me," said the girl; "well, you may say I am Mr. Alexander +Chatterton's daughter Charlotte." + +Polly kept herself from starting as the name met her ear. "Very well," +she said, "I will do what I can," moving off. "O, Grandpapa!" + +For down the hall came Mr. King in velvet morning jacket and cap. + +"Hoity-toity, I thought no one was to be admitted," he exclaimed, as he +neared the door. + +"Grandpapa," Polly endeavored to draw him off, but the young girl ran +past her. + +"Mr. King," she said quickly, "I am Charlotte Chatterton." + +"The dickens you are!" exclaimed the old gentleman, looking her full in +the face. + +"Yes, sir; and my father is very ill." For a moment her voice trembled, +but she quickly recovered herself. "It isn't money I want, Mr. King," +and she threw her head back proudly, "but oh, will you come and see +father?" + +Mr. King looked at her again, then over at Polly. "Bring her in here," +he said, pointing to the same little reception room that Charlotte had +deserted, "I want you to stay, too, Polly," and the door closed upon +them. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +OF MANY THINGS. + + +"And father has asked her to go home when you and he go!" cried Jasper in +irritation. + +"Yes," said Polly; "oh, Jasper, never mind; I daresay it will be for the +best; and I'm so sorry for Charlotte." + +"She'll be no end of bother to you, I know," said Jasper. "And you must +take her everywhere, Polly, and look out for her. What was father +thinking of?" He could not conceal his annoyance, and Polly put aside +her own dismayed feelings at the new programme, to help him into his +usual serene mood. + +"But think, Jasper, how she has never had any fun all her life, and now +her father is sick." + +"She'd much better stay and take care of him," declared Jasper. + +"But he's sick because he has worried so, I do believe," Polly went on, +"for you ought to have seen his face when we took Charlotte home, and +Grandpapa talked with him, and asked him to let Charlotte pass the rest +of the winter with us. Oh, I am glad, Jasper, for I do like Charlotte." + +"The girl may be well enough," said Jasper shortly, "but she will bother +you, nevertheless, Polly, I am afraid." + +"Never mind," said Polly brightly, with a little pang at her heart for +the nice times with the girls that now must be shared with another. +"Grandpapa thought he ought to do it, I suppose, and that's enough." + +"It does seem as if the Chattertons would never be done annoying us," +said Jasper gloomily. "Now when we once get this girl fastened on us, +there'll be an end to the hope of shaking her off." + +"Perhaps we sha'n't want to," said Polly merrily, "for Charlotte may +turn out perfectly lovely; I do believe she's going to." And then she +remembered her promise to Mrs. Whitney, and she began: "Aunty is +worrying about your staying away so long from your business, Jasper, and +she wants you to go back." + +A shade passed over his face. "I suppose I ought to go, Polly," he said, +and he pulled a letter from his pocket and held it out to her, "I was +going to show this to you, only the other matter came up." + +Polly seized it with dread. + +"We need your services very much" [the letter ran] "and cannot wait +longer for your return. We are very sorry to be so imperative, but the +rush of work at this time of the year, makes it necessary for all our +force to be in place. + +"Very sincerely + +"DAVID MARLOWE." + +"You see they are getting all the books planned out, and put in shape +for the next year; and business just rushes," cried Jasper, with shining +eyes, showing his eagerness to be in the midst of the bustle of +manufacture. + +"What, so early!" cried Polly, letting the letter drop. "Why, I thought +you didn't do anything until spring, Jasper--about making the books, I +mean." + +He laughed. "The travelers go out on the road then," he said, "with +almost all the books ready to sell." + +"Out on the road?" repeated Polly in amaze. "Oh, what do you mean, +Jasper?" + +"Well, you see the business of selling is a good part of it done by +salesmen, who travel with samples and take advance orders," said Jasper, +finding it quite jolly to explain business intricacies to such an eager +listener. + +"Oh!" said Polly. + +"And when I get back I shall be plunged at once into all the thick of +the manufacturing work," he went on, straightening himself up; "Mr. +Marlowe is as good as he can be, and he has waited now longer than he +ought to." + +"Oh, you must go, Jasper," cried Polly quickly; "at once, this very +day," and her face glowed. + +"If you think sister Marian is really well enough to spare me," he said, +trying to restrain his impatience to be off. + +"Yes--yes, I do," declared Polly. "Doctor Palfrey said this morning that +all danger was over now from inflammation, and really it worries her +dreadfully to think of your being here any longer. It really does hurt +her, Jasper," repeated Polly emphatically. + +"In that case I'm off, then, this afternoon," said Jasper, with a glad +ring in his voice. "Polly, my work is the very grandest in all the +world." + +"Isn't it?" cried Polly, with kindling eyes; "just think--to make good +books, Jasper, that will never stop, perhaps, being read. Oh, I wish I +was a man and could help you." + +"Polly?" he stopped a minute, looked down into her face, then turned off +abruptly. "You are sure you won't bother yourself too much with +Charlotte?" he said awkwardly coming back. + +"Yes; don't worry, Jasper," said Polly, wondering at his unusual manner. + +"All right; then as soon as I've seen father I'll throw my traps +together and be off," declared Jasper, quite like the business man +again. + +But old Mr. King was not to hear about it just then, for when Jasper +rapped at his door, it was to find that his father was fast asleep. + +"See here, Jasper," said Mr. Whitney, happening along at this minute, +"here's a nice piece of work. Percy declares that he shall be made +miserable to go back to college to-morrow. His mother is able now for +him to be settled at his studies; won't you run up and persuade +him--that's a good fellow." + +"I'm going back to my work to-night," cried Jasper, pulling out his +watch, "that is, if father wakes up in time for me to take the train." + +"Is that so? Good," cried Mr. Whitney. "Well, run along and tell Percy +that, for the boy is so worried over his mother that he can't listen to +reason." + +So Jasper scaled the stairs to Percy's den. + +"Well, old fellow, I thought I'd come up and let you know that I'm off +to my work," announced Jasper, putting his head in the doorway. + +"Eh!" cried Percy, "what's that?" + +"Why, I'm off, I say; back to dig at the publishing business. Your +mother doesn't want us fellows hanging around here any longer. It +worries her to feel that we are idling." + +"Is that so?" cried Percy. "How do you know?" + +"Polly says so; she let me into the secret; says sister Marian requested +me to go back." + +"Did Polly really say so?" demanded Percy in astonishment. + +"Yes, in good plain English. So I'm off." + +"Well, if Polly really said that mamma wanted you to go, why, I'll get +back to college as soon as I can," said Percy. "But if she should be +worse?" He stopped short. + +"They can send for you instantly; trust Polly for that," said Jasper. +"But she won't be worse; not unless we worry her by not doing as she +wishes. Well, good-by, I'm off." + +"So am I," declared Percy, springing up to throw his clothes into +traveling order. "All right, I'll take the train with you, Jappy." + +"Now you see how much better I'm off," observed Van, coming in to perch +on the edge of the bed while Percy was hurrying all sorts of garments +into the trunk with a quick hand. "I tell you, Percy, I struck good luck +when I chose father's business. Now I don't have to run like a dog at +the beck of a lot of professors." + +"Every one to his taste," said Percy, "and I can't bear father's +business, for one." + +"No, you'd rather sit up with your glasses stuck on your nose, and learn +how to dole out the law; that's you, Percy. I say, I wouldn't try to +keep the things on," with a laugh as he saw his brother's ineffectual +efforts to pack, and yet give the attention to his eyeglasses that they +seemed to demand. + +"See here now, Van," cried Percy warmly, "if you cannot help, you can +take yourself off. Goodness! I have left out my box of collars!" + +"Here it is," cried Van, throwing it to him from the bed, where it had +rolled off under a pile of underclothing. "Well, you don't know how the +things make you look. And Polly doesn't like them a bit." + +"How do you know?" demanded Percy, growing quite red, and desisting from +his employment a minute. + +"Oh, that's telling; I know she doesn't," replied Van provokingly. + +For answer Van felt his arms seized, and before he knew it Percy was +over him and holding him down so that he couldn't stir. + +"Now how do you know that Polly doesn't like my eyeglasses?" he +demanded. + +"Ow--let me up!" cried Van. + +"Tell on, then. How do you know she doesn't like them?" + +"Because--Let me up, and I'll tell." + +"No, tell now," said Percy, having hard work to keep Van from slipping +out from under his hands. + +"Boys," called Polly's voice. + +"Oh dear me--she's coming!" exclaimed Percy, jumping to his feet, and +releasing Van, who, red and shining, skipped to the door. "Come in, +Polly." + +"I thought I'd find you up here," said Polly in great satisfaction. +"Percy, can't I do something for you? Jasper says you are going back to +college right away." + +"Yes, you can," said Percy, "take Van off; that would help me more than +anything else you could do." + +Polly looked at Van and shook her brown head so disapprovingly that he +came out of his laugh. + +"Oh, I'll be good, Polly," he promised. + +"See that you are, then," she said. Then she went over to the trunk and +looked in. + +"Percy, may I take those things out and fold them over again?" she +asked. + +"Yes, if you want to," said Percy shamefacedly. "I suppose I have made a +mess of them; but it's too hard work for you, Polly." + +"I should like nothing better than to attack that trunk," declared Polly +merrily. "Now, Van, you come and help me, that's a dear boy." + +And in five minutes Polly and Van were busily working together; he +putting in the things, while she neatly made them into piles, and Percy +sorted and gave orders like a general. + +"He does strut around so," said Van under his breath, "just see him +now." + +"Hush--oh, Van, how can you? and he's going back to college, and you +won't see him for ever so many weeks." + +Van swallowed something in his throat, and bent all his energies to +settling the different articles in the trunk. + +"Percy," said Polly presently in a lull, "I do just envy you for one +thing." + +"What for, pray?" asked Percy, settling his beloved eyeglasses for a +better view of her. + +"Why, you'll be with Joel and Davie," said Polly. "Oh, you don't know +how I miss those boys!" She rested both hands on the trunk edge as she +knelt before it. + +[Illustration: "OH, YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I MISS THOSE BOYS!" ] + +"I wish you'd been our sister," said Van enviously, "then we'd have had +good times always." + +"Oh, I don't see much of Joel," said Percy. "Dave once in a while I run +across, but Joel--dear me!" + +"You don't see much of Joel," repeated Polly, her hands dropping +suddenly in astonishment. "Why, Percy Whitney, why not, pray tell?" + +"Why, Joel's awful good--got a streak of going into the prayer-meetings +and that sort of thing," explained Percy, "and we call him Deacon Pepper +in the class." + +"He goes to prayer-meetings, and you call him Deacon Pepper," repeated +Polly in amazement, while Van burst out into a fit of amusement. + +"Yes," said Percy, "and he has a lot of old fogies always turning up +that want help, and all such stuff, and I expect that he is going to be +a minister." + +He brought this out as something too dreadful to be spoken, and then +fell back to see the effect of his words. + +"Can you suppose it?" cried Polly under her breath, still kneeling on +the floor, "oh, boys, can you?" looking from one to the other. + +"Yes; I'm afraid it's true," said Percy, feeling that he ought to be +thrashed for having told her, while Van laughed again. + +"Oh--oh! it's too lovely. Dear, beautiful, old Joel!" cried Polly, +springing suddenly to her feet; "just think how good he is, boys! Oh, +it's too lovely to be true!" + +Percy retreated a few steps hastily. + +"And oh, how much better we ought to be," cried Polly in a rush of +feeling. "Just think, with Joel doing such beautiful things, oh, how +glad Mamsie will be! And he never told--Joel never told." + +"And he'll just about kill me if you tell him I've let it out," said +Percy abruptly. "Oh, dear me, how he'll pitch into me!" exclaimed Percy +in alarm. + +"I never shall speak of it," declared Polly in a rapture, "because Joel +always hated to be praised for being good. But oh, how lovely it is!" + +And then Grandpapa called, and she ran off on happy feet. + +"Whew!" exclaimed Percy, with a look over at Van. + +"I tell you what, if you want to get into Polly's good graces, you've +just got to brush up on your catechism, and such things," remarked Van; +"eyeglasses don't count." + +Percy turned off uneasily. + +"Nor suppers, and a bit of card-playing, eh, Percy?" + +"Hold your tongue, will you?" cried his brother irritably. + +"Nor swell clothes and a touch-me-if-you-dare manner," said Van +mockingly, sticking his fingers in his vest pockets. + +Percy made a lunge at him, then thought better of it. + +"Leave me alone, can't you?" he said crossly. + +Van opened his mouth to toss back a teasing reply, when Percy opened up +on him. "I'd as soon take my chances with her, on the suppers and other +things, as to have yours. What would Polly say to see you going for me +like this, I'd like to know?" + +It was now Van's turn to look uncomfortable, and he cast a glance at the +door. + +"Oh, she may come in," said Percy, bursting into a laugh, "then you'd be +in a fine fix; and I wouldn't give a rush for the good opinion she'd +have of you." + +Van hung his head, took two or three steps to the door, then came back +hurriedly. + +"I cry 'Quits,' Percy," he said, and held out his hand. + +"All right," said Percy, smoothing down his ruffled feelings, and +putting out his hand too. + +Van seized it, wrung it in good brotherly fashion, then raced over the +stairs at a breakneck pace. + +"Polly", he said, meeting her in the hall where she had just come from +Mr. King's room, "I've been blackguarding Percy, and you ought to know +it." + +"Oh, Van!" cried Polly, stopping short in a sorry little way; "why, +you've been so good ever since you both promised years ago that you +wouldn't say bad things to each other." + +"Oh, that was different," said Van recklessly; "but since he went to +college, Percy has been a perfect snob Polly." + +Polly said nothing, only looked at him in a way that cut him to the +heart, as she moved off slowly. + +"Aren't you going to say anything?" asked Van at last. + +"I've nothing to say," replied Polly, and she disappeared into Mrs. +Whitney's room and closed the door. + +That evening Jasper and Percy, who went together for a good part of the +way, had just driven to the station, when the bell rang and a housemaid +presently laid before Polly a card, at sight of which all the color +deserted her cheek. "Oh, I can't see him," she declared involuntarily. + +"Who is it?" asked old Mr. King, laying down the evening paper. + +"O, Grandpapa!" cried Polly, all in a tremor at the thought of his +displeasure, "it does not matter. I can send word that I do not see any +one now that Aunty is ill, and"-- + +"Polly, child," said the old gentleman, seriously displeased, "come and +tell me at once who has called upon you." + +So Polly, hardly knowing how, got out of her chair and silently laid the +unwelcome card in his hand. + +"Mr. Livingston Bayley," read the old gentleman. + +"Humph! well, upon my word, this speaks well for the young man's +perseverance. I'm very tired, but I see nothing for it but that I must +respond to this;" and he threw aside the paper and got up to his feet. + +"Grandpapa," begged Polly tremblingly at his elbow, "please don't let +him feel badly." + +"It isn't possible, Polly," cried Mr. King, looking down at her, "that +you like this fellow--enough, I mean, to marry him?" + +"O, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly in a tone of horror. + +"Well, then, child, you must leave me to settle with him," said the old +gentleman with dignity. "Don't worry; I sha'n't forget myself, nor what +is due to a Bayley," with a short laugh. And then she heard him go into +the drawing-room and close the door. + +When he came back, which he did in the space of half an hour, his face +was wreathed in smiles, and he chuckled now and then, as he sat down in +his big chair and drew out his eyeglasses. + +"Well, Polly, child, I don't believe he will trouble you in this way +again, my dear," he said in a satisfied way, looking at her over the +table. "He wanted to leave the question open; thought it impossible that +you could refuse him utterly, and was willing to wait; and asked +permission to send flowers, and all that sort of thing. But I made the +young man see exactly how the matter stood, and that's all that need be +said about it. It's done with now and forever." And then he took up his +paper and began to read. + +"Mamsie," said Phronsie, that very evening as she was getting ready for +bed, and pausing in the doorway of her little room that led out of +Mother Fisher's, "do you suppose we can bear it another day without +Polly?" + +"Why, yes, Phronsie," said Mother Fisher, giving another gentle rock to +Baby's cradle, "of course we can, because we must. That isn't like you, +dear, to want Polly back till Aunty has got through needing her." + +Phronsie gave a sigh and thoughtfully drew her slippered foot over the +pattern of the carpet. "It would be so very nice," she said, "if Aunty +didn't need her." + +"So it would," said her mother, "but it won't make Polly come any +quicker to spend the time wishing for her. There, run to bed, child; you +are half an hour late to-night." + +Phronsie turned obediently into her own little room, then came back +softly. "I want to give Baby, Polly's good-night kiss," she said. + +"Very well, you may, dear," said Mrs. Fisher. So Phronsie bent over and +set on Baby's dear little cheek, the kiss that could not go to Polly. + +"If dear Grandpapa would only come home," and she sighed again. + +"But just think how beautiful it is that Aunty was not hurt so much as +the doctors feared," said her mother. "Oh, Phronsie, we can't ever be +thankful enough for that." + +"And now maybe God will let Grandpapa and Polly come back pretty soon," +said Phronsie slowly, going off toward her own little room. And +presently Mrs. Fisher heard her say, "Good-night, Mamsie dear, I'm in +bed." + +A rap at the door, and Jane put in her head, in response to Mrs. +Fisher's "What is it?" + +"Oh, is Dr. Fisher here?" asked Jane in a frightened way. + +[Illustration: "AND PLEASE MAKE DEAR PAPA GIVE HER THE RIGHT THINGS."] + +"No; he is downstairs in the library," said Mother Fisher. "What is the +matter, Jane? Who wants him?" + +"Oh, something dreadful is the matter with Helen Fargo, I'm afraid, +ma'am," said Jane. "Griggs has just run over to say that the doctor must +come quick." + +"Hush!" said Mrs. Fisher, pointing to Phronsie's wide-open door; but she +was standing beside them in her little nightdress, and heard the next +words plainly enough. + +"Run down stairs, Jane," commanded Mother Fisher, "and tell the doctor +what Griggs said; just as fast as you can, Jane." + +And in another minute in rushed the little doctor, seized his medicine +case, saying as he did so, "I sha'n't come back here, wife, if it is +diphtheria, but go to my office and change my clothes. There's +considerable of the disease around. Good-night, child." He stopped to +kiss Phronsie, who lifted a pale, troubled face to his. "Don't worry; I +guess Helen will be all right," and he dashed off again. + +"Now, Phronsie, child," said Mrs. Fisher, "come to mother and let us +talk it over a bit." + +So Phronsie cuddled up in Mamsie's lap, and laid her sad little cheek +where she had been so often comforted. + +"Mamsie," she said at last, lifting her head, "I don't believe God will +let Helen die, because you see she's the only child that Mrs. Fargo has. +He couldn't, Mamsie." + +"Phronsie, darling, God knows best," said Mrs. Fisher, holding her +close. + +"But he wouldn't ever do it, I know," said Phronsie confidently; "I'm +going to ask Him not to, and tell Him over again about Helen's being the +very only one that Mrs. Fargo has in all the world." So she slipped to +the floor, and went into her own room again and closed the door. "Dear +Jesus," she said, kneeling by her little white bed, "please don't take +Helen away, because her mother has only just Helen. And please make dear +papa give her the right things, so that she will live at home, and not +go to Heaven yet. Amen." + +Then she clambered into bed, and lay looking out across the moonlight, +where the light from Helen Fargo's room twinkled through the fir-trees +on the lawn. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +PHRONSIE. + + +"I can't tell her," groaned Mrs. Pepper, the next morning, at sight of +Phronsie's peaceful little face. "I never can say the word 'diphtheria' +in all this world." + +Phronsie laughed and played with Baby quite merrily, all such time as +Miss Carruth, the governess, allowed her from the schoolroom that +morning. + +"Everything is beautiful, King dear," she would say on such little +flying visits to the nursery. "Grandpapa and Polly, I do think, will be +home pretty soon; and Helen is going to get well, because you know I +asked God to let her, and he wouldn't ever, in all this world, take her +away from her mother. He wouldn't, King," she added confidentially in +Baby's small ear. + +All day long the turreted Fargo mansion gleamed brightly in the glancing +sunlight, giving no hint of the battle for a life going on within. Mrs. +Fisher knew when her husband sent for the most celebrated doctor for +throat diseases; knew when he came; and knew also when each hour those +who were fighting the foe, were driven back baffled. And several times +she attempted to tell Phronsie something of the shadow hanging over the +little playmate's home. But Phronsie invariably put aside all her +attempts with a gentle persistence, always saying, "He wouldn't, you +know, Mamsie." + +And at nightfall Helen had gone; and two white little hands were folded +quietly across a young girl's breast. + +No one told Phronsie that night; no one could. And she clambered into +her little white bed, after saying her old prayer; then she lay in the +moonlight again, watching Helen's house. + +"The light is out, Mamsie," she called, "in Helen's room. But I suppose +she is asleep." And presently Mrs. Fisher, stealing in, with unshed +tears in her eyes, found her own child safe--folded in restful slumber, +her hand tucked under her cheek. + +But the next morning, when she must hear it! + +"Phronsie," said Mrs. Fisher, "come here, dear." It was after breakfast, +and Phronsie was running up into the school-room. + +"Do you mean I am not to go to Miss Carruth?" asked Phronsie +wonderingly, and fingering her books. + +"Yes, dear. Oh, Phronsie"--Mrs. Fisher abruptly dropped her customary +self-control, and held out her arms. "Come here, mother's baby; I've +something bad to tell you, and you must help me, dear." + +Phronsie came at once, with wide-open, astonished brown eyes, and +climbed up into the good lap obediently. + +"Phronsie," said Mrs. Fisher, swallowing the lump in her throat, and +looking at the child fixedly, "you know Helen has been very sick." + +"Yes, mamma," said Phronsie, still in a wonder. + +"Well--and she suffered, dear, oh, so much!" + +A look of pain stole over Phronsie's face, and Mrs. Fisher hastened to +say, "But oh. Phronsie, she can't ever suffer any more, for--for--God +has taken her home, Phronsie." + +"Has Helen died?" asked Phronsie, in a sharp little voice, so unlike her +own that Mrs. Pepper shivered and held her close. + +"Oh, darling--how can I tell you? Yes, dear, God has taken her home to +Heaven." + +"And left Mrs. Fargo without any little girl?" asked Phronsie, in the +same tone. + +"My dear--yes--He knows what is best," said poor Mrs. Fisher. + +The startled look on Phronsie's little face gave way to a grieved +expression, that slowly settled on each feature. + +"Let me get down, Mamsie," she said, quietly, and gently struggling to +free herself. + +"Oh, Phronsie, what are you going to do?" cried Mrs. Fisher. "Do sit +with mother." + +"I must think it out, Mamsie," said Phronsie, with grave decision, +getting on her feet, and she went slowly up the stairs, and into her own +room; then closed the door. + +And all that day she said nothing; even when Mother Fisher begged her to +come and talk it over with her, Phronsie would say, "I can't, Mamsie +dear, it won't talk itself." But she was gentle and sweet with Baby, and +never relaxed any effort for his amusement. And at last, when they were +folding Helen away lovingly in flowers, from all who had loved her, Mrs. +Fisher wrote in despair to Polly, telling her all about it, and adding, +"You must come home, if only for a few days, or Phronsie will be sick." + +"I shall go, too," declared old Mr. King, "for Marian can spare me now. +Oh, that blessed child! And I can come back here with you, Polly, if +necessary." + +And Polly had nothing for it but to help him off, and Charlotte's father +being ever so much better, she joined them; and as soon as it was a +possible thing, there they were at home, and Thomas was driving them up +at his best speed, to the carriage porch. + +"Polly!" Phronsie gasped the word, and threw hungry little arms around +Polly's neck. + +"There, there, Pet," cried Polly cheerily, "you see we're all home. +Here's Grandpapa!" + +"Where's my girl?" cried old Mr. King hastily. "Here, Phronsie," and she +was in his arms, while the tears rained down her cheeks. + +"Bless me!" exclaimed the old gentleman, putting up his hand at the +shower. "Well, that is a welcome home, Phronsie." + +"Oh, Grandpapa, I didn't mean to!" said Phronsie, drawing back in +dismay. "I do hope it hasn't hurt your coat." + +"Never mind the coat, Phronsie," said Mr. King. "So you are glad to get +us home, eh?" + +Phronsie snuggled close to his side, while she clung to his hand without +a word. + +"Well, we mustn't forget Charlotte," cried Polly, darting back to a tall +girl with light hair and very pale blue eyes, standing composedly in one +corner of the hall, and watching the whole thing closely. "Mamsie, dear, +here she is," taking her hand to draw her to Mrs. Fisher. + +"Don't mind me," said Charlotte, perfectly at her ease. "You take care +of the little girl," as Polly dragged her on. + +Mrs. Fisher took a good long look at Charlotte Chatterton. Then she +smiled, "I am glad to see you, Charlotte." + +[Illustration: CHARLOTTE, STANDING COMPOSEDLY IN ONE CORNER OF THE +HALL.] + +Charlotte took the firm fingers extended to her, and said, "Thank you," +then turned off to look at Phronsie again. + +And it wasn't till after dinner that Phronsie's trouble was touched +upon. Then Polly drew her off to a quiet corner. + +"Now, then, Phronsie," she said, gathering her up close in her arms, +"tell me all about it, Pet. Just think," and Polly set warm kisses on +the pale little cheek, "how long it is since you and I have had a good +talk." + +"I know it," said Phronsie wearily, and she drew a long sigh. + +"Isn't it good that dear Aunty is so much better?" cried Polly cheerily, +quite at a loss how to begin. + +"Yes, Polly," said Phronsie, but she sighed again, and did not lift her +eyes to Polly's face. + +"If anything troubles you," at last broke out Polly desperately, "you'd +feel better, Phronsie, to tell sister about it. I may not know how to +say the right things, but I can maybe help a little." + +Phronsie sat quite still, and folded and unfolded her hands in her lap. +"Why did God take away Helen?" she asked suddenly, lifting her head. +"Oh, Polly, it wasn't nice of him," she added, a strange look coming +into her brown eyes. + +[Illustration: PHRONSIE WENT OVER TO THE WINDOW.] + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, quite shocked, "don't, dear; that isn't +like you, Pet. Why, God made us all, and he can do just as he likes, +darling." + +"But it isn't nice," repeated Phronsie deliberately, and quite firmly, +"to take Helen now. Why doesn't He make another little girl then for +Mrs. Fargo?" and she held Polly with her troubled eyes. + +"Phronsie"--cried Polly; then she stopped abruptly. "Oh, what can I say? +I don't know, dearie; it's just this way; we don't know why God does +things. But we love him, and we feel it's right. Oh, Phronsie, don't +look so. There, there," and she drew her close to her, in a loving, +hungry clasp. "I told you I didn't think I could say the right things to +you," she went on hurriedly, "but, Phronsie, I know God did just right +in taking Helen to heaven. Just think how beautiful it must be there, +and so many little children are there. And Helen is so happy. Oh, +Phronsie, when I think of that, I am glad she is gone." + +"Helen was happy here," said Phronsie decidedly. "And she never--never +would want to leave her mother alone, to go off to a nicer place. Never, +Polly." + +Polly drew a long breath, and shut her lips. "But, Phronsie, don't you +see," she cried presently, "it may be that Mrs. Fargo wouldn't ever want +to go to Heaven unless Helen was there to meet her? It may be, Phronsie; +and that would be very dreadful, you know. And God loved Mrs. Fargo so +that he took Helen, and he is going to keep her happy every single +minute while she is waiting and getting ready for her mother." + +Phronsie suddenly slipped down from Polly's lap. "Is that true?" she +demanded. + +"Yes, dear," said Polly, "I think it is, Phronsie," and her cheeks +glowed. "Oh, can't you see how much nicer it is in God to make Mrs. +Fargo happy for always with Helen, instead of just a little bit of a +while down here?" + +Phronsie went over to the window and looked up at the winter sky. "It is +a long way off," she said, but the bitter tone had gone, and it was a +grieved little voice that added, "and Mrs. Fargo can't see Helen." + +"Phronsie," said Polly, hurrying over to her side, "perhaps God wants +you to do some things for Mrs. Fargo--things, I mean, that Helen would +have done." + +"Why, I can't go over there," said Phronsie wonderingly. "Papa Fisher +says I am not to go over there for ever and ever so long, Polly." + +"Well, you can write her little notes and you can help her to see that +God did just right in taking Helen away," said Polly; "and that would be +the very best thing you could do, Phronsie, for Mrs. Fargo; the very +loveliest thing in all this world." + +"Would it?" asked Phronsie. + +"Yes, dear." + +"Then I'll do it; and perhaps God wants me to like Heaven better; does +he, Polly, do you think?" + +"I really and truly do, Phronsie," said Polly softly. Then she leaned +over and threw both arms around Phronsie's neck. "Oh, Phronsie, can't +you see--I never thought of it till now--but He has given you somebody +else instead of Helen, to love and to do things for?" + +Phronsie looked up wonderingly. "I don't know what you mean, Polly," she +said. + +"There's Charlotte," cried Polly, going on rapidly as she released +Phronsie. "Oh, Phronsie, you can't think; it's been dreadfully hard and +dull always for her at home, with those two stiff great-aunts pecking at +her." + +"Tell me about it," begged Phronsie, turning away from the window, and +putting her hand in Polly's. + +"Well, come over to our corner then." So the two ran back, Phronsie +climbing into Polly's lap, while a look of contentment began to spread +over her face. + +"You see," began Polly, "Charlotte's mother has always been too ill to +have nice times; she couldn't go out, you know, very much, nor keep the +house, and so the two great-aunts came to live with them. Well, pretty +soon they began to feel as if they owned the house, and Charlotte, and +everybody in it." + +"Oh dear!" exclaimed Phronsie, in distress. + +"And Charlotte's father, Mr. Alexander Chatterton, couldn't stop it; and +beside, he was away on business most of the time, and Charlotte didn't +complain--oh, she behaved very nice about it; Phronsie, her father told +Grandpapa all about it; and by and by her mother died, and then things +got worse and worse; but Mr. Chatterton never knew half how bad it was. +But when he was sick it all came out, and it worried him so that he got +very bad indeed, and then he sent for Grandpapa--Charlotte couldn't stop +him; he made her go. You see he was afraid he was going to die, and he +couldn't bear to have things so very dreadful for Charlotte." + +"And is he going to die?" broke in Phronsie excitedly. + +"Oh no, indeed! he was almost well when we came away; it was only his +worrying over Charlotte that made him so bad. Oh, you ought to have seen +him, Phronsie, when Grandpapa offered to take Charlotte home with us for +the winter. He was so happy he almost cried." + +"I am so glad he was happy," cried Phronsie in great satisfaction, her +cheeks flushing. + +"And so now I think God gave Charlotte to you for a little while because +you haven't Helen. I do, Phronsie, and you can make Charlotte glad while +she is here, and help her to have a good time." + +"Can I?" cried Phronsie, her cheeks growing a deep pink. "Oh, Polly, +how? Charlotte is a big girl; how can I help her?" + +"That's your secret to find out," said Polly merrily. "Well, come now," +kissing her, "we must hurry back to Grandpapa, or he'll feel badly to +have you gone so long." + +"Polly," cried Phronsie, as they hurried over the stairs, "put your ear +down, do." + +"I can't till we get downstairs," laughed Polly, "or I'll tumble on my +nose, I'm afraid. Well, here we are. Now then, what is it?" and she bent +over to catch the soft words. + +"I'm sorry," said Phronsie, her lips quite close to Polly's rosy cheek, +"that I said God wasn't nice to take Helen away. Oh, I love him, Polly, +I truly do." + +"So you do," said Polly, with, a warm clasp. "Well, here's Grandpapa," +as the library door opened, and Mr. King came out to meet them. + +Polly, running over the stairs the next day to greet Alexia and some of +the girls who were determined to make the most of her little visit at +home, was met first by one of the maids with a letter. + +[Illustration: ALEXIA COOLLY READ ON, ONE ARM AROUND POLLY.] + +"Oh, now," cried Alexia, catching sight of it, "I almost know that's to +hurry you back, Polly. She sha'n't read it, girls." With that she made a +feint of seizing the large white envelope. + +"Hands off from my property," cried Polly merrily, waving her off, and +sitting down on the stair she tore the letter open. + +Alexia worked her way along till she was able to sit down beside her, +when she was guilty of looking over her shoulder. + +"Oh, Alexia Rhys, how perfectly, dreadfully mean!" cried one of the +other girls, wishing she could be in the same place. + +Alexia turned a deaf ear, and coolly read on, one arm around Polly. + +"Oh, girls--girls!" she suddenly screamed, and jumping up, nearly +oversetting Polly, she raced over the remaining stairs to the bottom, +where she danced up and down the wide hall, "Polly isn't going back--she +isn't--she isn't," she kept declaring. + +"What!" cried all the girls. "Oh, do stop, Alexia. What is it?" + +Meantime Cathie Harrison ran up and quickly possessed herself of the +vacated seat. + +"Why, Mr. Whitney writes to say that Polly needn't go back--oh, how +perfectly lovely in him!" cried Alexia, bringing up flushed and panting. +"Oh, dear me, I can't breathe!" + +"Oh! oh!" cried all the girls, clapping their hands. + +"But that doesn't mean that I shall not go back," said Polly, looking up +from her letter to peer through the stair-railing at them. "I +think--yes, I really do think that I ought to go back." + +"How nonsensical!" exclaimed Alexia impatiently. "If Mr. Whitney says +you are not needed, isn't that enough? Beside he wrote it for Mrs. +Whitney; I read it all." + +"No, I don't think it is enough," answered Polly slowly, and turning the +letter with perplexed fingers, "for I know dear Aunty only told him to +write because she thought I ought to be at home." + +"And so you ought," declared Alexia, very decidedly. "She's quite right +about it, and now you're here, why, you've just got to stay. So there, +Polly Pepper. Hasn't she, girls?" + +"Yes, indeed," cried the girls. + +Polly shook her brown head, as she still sat on her stair busily +thinking. + +"Here comes Mr. King," cried Cathie Harrison, suddenly craning her neck +at the sound of the opening of a door above them. "Now I'm just going to +ask him," and she sprang to her feet. + +"Cathie--Cathie," begged Polly, springing up too. + +"I just will," declared Cathie, obstinately scampering up over the +stairs. "Oh, Mr. King, mayn't Polly stay home? Oh, do say yes, please!" + +"Yes, do say yes, please," called all the other girls in the hall below. + +"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed the old gentleman, well pleased at the +onslaught. "Now then, what's the matter, pray tell?" + +"I just won't have Cathie Harrison tell him," said Alexia, trying to run +up over the stairs. "Let me by, Polly, do," she begged. + +"No, indeed," cried Polly, spreading her arms. "It's bad enough to have +one of you up there besieging Grandpapa." + +"Then I'll run up the back stairs," cried Alexia, turning in a flash. + +"Oh, yes, the back stairs!" exclaimed the other girls, following her. +"Oh, do hurry! Polly's coming after us." + +But speed as she might, Polly could not overtake the bevy, who, laughing +and panting, stood before Mr. King a second ahead of her. + +"A pretty good race," said the old gentleman, laughing heartily, "but +against you from the first, Polly, my girl." + +"Don't listen to them, Grandpapa dear," panted Polly. + +"Mayn't she stay at home--mayn't she?" + +"Hush, girls," begged Polly. "Oh, Grandpapa dear, don't listen to them. +Aunty told Uncle Mason to write the letter, and you know"-- + +"Well, yes, I know all you would say, Polly. But I've also had a letter +from Mason, and I was just going to show it to you." He pulled out of +his vest pocket another envelope corresponding to the one in Polly's +hand, which he waved at her. + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly, quite aghast at his so easily going +over to the enemy. With that, all the girls deserted the old gentleman, +and swarmed around Polly. + +"See here, now," commanded Mr. King, "every single one of you young +things come back here this minute. Goodness me, Polly, I should think +they'd be the death of you." + +Polly didn't hear a word, for she was reading busily: "Marian says +'don't let Polly come back on any account. It worries me dreadfully to +think of all that she is giving up; and I will be brave, and do without +her. She must not come back.'" + +Polly looked up to meet old Mr. King's eyes fixed keenly upon her. + +"You see, Polly," he began, "I really don't dare after that to let you +go back." + +"Oh--oh--oh!" screamed all the girls. + +"There, I told you so," exclaimed Alexia. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +POLLY LOOKS OUT FOR CHARLOTTE. + + +"Second floor--Room No. 3," said Buttons, then stood like an automaton +to watch the tall young man scale the stair. + +"He did 'em beautifully," he confided afterward to another bell-boy. +"Mr. King himself can't get over them stairs better." + +"Come in!" cried Jasper, in response to the rap. + +"Halloo, old fellow!" cried Pickering Dodge, rushing in tumultuously. +"Well, well, so this is your den," looking around the small room in +surprise. + +"Yes. Now this is good to see you!" exclaimed Jasper, joyfully leaping +from his chair to seize Pickering's hand. "Well, what brought you? +There's nothing wrong?" he asked, anxiously scanning Pickering's face. + +"No--that is, everything's right; all except Polly." + +"There isn't anything the matter with Polly?" Jasper turned quite white, +scarcely speaking the words. + +"No, she's all right, only"--Pickering turned impatiently off from the +chair Jasper pulled forward with a hasty hand, and stalked to the other +side of the little room. "She's--she's--well, she's so hard to come at +nowadays. Everybody has a chance for a word with her but old friends. +And now the Recital is in full blast." + +Jasper drew a long breath, and began to get his color again. "Oh, +yes--well, it's all going on well, the Recital, I mean, isn't it?" he +asked. + +"I believe so," said Pickering in a gloomy way. "The girls are wild over +it; you can't hear anything else talked about at home. But," he broke +off abruptly, "got a cigar, Jasper?" and he began to hunt the mantel +among the few home-things spread around to enliven the hotel apartment. + +"Haven't such an article," said Jasper. + +"I forgot you don't smoke," said Pickering with a sigh. "Dear me! how +will you bear trouble when it comes, old chap?" He came back to the +table, and thrust his hands in his pockets, looking dismally at Jasper. + +"I'm afraid a cigar wouldn't help me much," said Jasper, with a laugh; +"but if you must have one, I can get it, eh?" + +"Yes, I must," said Pickering in despair, "for I've something on my +mind. Came over on purpose to get your help, and I can't do it without a +weed." + +"Very well," said Jasper, shoving the chair again toward Pickering. "Sit +down, and I'll have one sent up," and he went over and touched the +electric button on the wall. + +"Yes, sir?" Buttons ran his head in the doorway, and stared at them +without winking. + +"A cigar for this gentleman," said Jasper, filliping a coin into the +boy's hand. + +"Is that the way you order cigars?" demanded Pickering, whirling around +in his chair. + +"Yes, when I order them at all," said Jasper, laughing; "a weed is a +weed, I suppose." + +"Indeed, and it is not, then," retorted Pickering. "I'll have none of +your ordering. You needn't bring it up, boy; I'll go down to the office +and pick some out for myself." + +"All right, sir," said Buttons, putting down the coin on the table with +a lingering finger. + +"Keep it," said Jasper, with a smile. + +"He's a gentleman," observed Buttons, on the way downstairs, Pickering +treading his heels. "He ain't like the rest of 'em that boards here. +They orders me around with a 'Here, you!' or a 'Hoi, there, boy!' +They're gents; he's the whole word--a first-class gentleman, Mr. King +is," he repeated. + +"Now, then, for it," said Jasper, when at last the gleam of Pickering's +cigar was steady and bright, "open your budget of news, old fellow," he +added, with difficulty restraining his impatience. + +"It ought not to be any news," declared Pickering, with extreme +abruptness, "for I've never tried to conceal it. I love Polly." + +Jasper started so suddenly his arm knocked from the table a slender +crystal vase, that broke into a dozen pieces. + +"Never mind," he said, at Pickering's dismayed exclamation, "go on." + +Whew--puff! floated the rings of cigar smoke over Pickering's head. "And +I can't stand it, and I won't, waiting any longer to tell her so. Why, +man," he turned savagely now on Jasper, "I've loved her for years, and +must I be bullied and badgered out of my rights by men who have only +just been introduced to her--say?" + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Jasper huskily, his fingers working over the +table-cloth, under the pretense of pulling the creases straight. + +"Why, that Loughead chap," said Pickering, bringing his hand down +heavily on the table; "he has more sweet words from Polly Pepper in a +week than I get in a month--and I such an old friend!" + +"Polly is so anxious to help his sister," Jasper made out to say. + +"Well, that's no reason why the fellow should hang around forever," +declared Pickering angrily. + +"Why, he's gone abroad!" exclaimed Jasper, "long ago." + +"Ah, but he's coming back," said Pickering, with a sage nod, and +knocking off the ashes from his cigar end. + +"Is that so?" cried Jasper, in astonishment. + +"Yes, 'tis," declared Pickering, nodding again, "and I don't like it. +You know as well as I do," squaring around on Jasper, "that he don't +care a rap about his sister's getting on; he's only thinking of Polly, +and _I_ love her." + +Seeing that something was expected of him, Jasper made out to say, "You +do?" + +"Of course I do; and you know it, and every one knows it, or ought to; I +haven't ever tried to conceal it," said Pickering proudly. + +"How do you know that Loughead is coming back?" asked Jasper abruptly. + +"How do I know? The best way in the world." Pickering moved uneasily in +his chair. "Hibbard Crane had a letter yesterday; that's the reason I +threw my traps together and started for you." + +"For me?" cried Jasper, in surprise. + +"Yes. You've got to help me. I can't stand it, waiting around any +longer. It has almost killed me as it is." Pickering threw his head on +the chair-back and took savage pulls at the cigar between his teeth. + +"I help you?" cried Jasper, too astonished to do much more than to +repeat the words. "How in all this world can I do anything in the +matter?" he demanded, as soon as he could find his voice. + +"Why, you can tell Polly how it is; you're her brother, or as good as +one; and she'll see it from you. And you must hurry about it, too, for I +expect that Loughead will turn up soon. He means mischief, he does." + +"See here, Pick," cried Jasper, getting out of his chair hastily to face +Pickering, "you don't know what you are asking. Why, I couldn't do it. +The very idea; I never heard of such a thing! You--you must speak to +Polly yourself." + +"I can't," said Pickering, in a burst, and bringing up his head +suddenly. "She won't give me the ghost of a chance. There's always those +girls around her; and she's been away an age at Mrs. Whitney's. And +everlastingly somebody is sick or getting hurt, and they won't have +anybody but Polly. You know how it is yourself, Jasper," and he turned +on him an injured countenance. + +"Well, don't come to me," cried Jasper, beginning to pace the floor +irritably. "I couldn't ever speak on such a subject to Polly. Beside it +would be the very way to set her against you. It would any girl; can't +you see it, Pick?" he added, brightening up. + +"Girls are queer," observed Pickering shrewdly, "and the very thing you +think they won't like, they take to amazingly. Oh, you go along, Jasper, +and let her see how matters stand; how I feel, I mean." + +"You will do your own speaking," said Jasper, in his most crusty +fashion, and without turning his head. + +"I did; that is, I tried to last night after I met Crane," began +Pickering, in a shamefaced way, "but I couldn't get even a chance to see +Polly." + +"How's that?" asked Jasper, still marching up and down the floor; +"wasn't she home?" + +"Why, she sent Charlotte Chatterton down to see me," said Pickering, +very much aggrieved, "and I hate that Chatterton girl." + +"Why couldn't Polly see you?" went on Jasper, determined, since his +assistance was asked, to go to the root of the matter. + +"Oh, somebody in the establishment, I don't know who, had a finger-ache, +I suppose," said Pickering, carelessly throwing away his cigar end and +lighting a fresh one, "and wanted Polly. Never mind why; she couldn't +come down, she sent word. So I gave up in despair. See here now, Jasper, +you must help me out." + +"I tell you I won't," declared Jasper, with rising irritation, "not in +that way." + +"You won't?" + +"No, I won't. I can't, my dear fellow." + +"Well, there's a great end of our friendship," exclaimed Pickering, red +with anger, and he jumped to his feet. "Do you mean to say, Jasper King, +that you won't do such a simple thing for me as to say a word to your +sister Polly, when I tell you it's all up with me if you don't speak +that word--say?" + +"You oughtn't to ask such a thing; it's despicable in you," cried +Jasper, aghast to find his anger rising at each word. "And if you insist +in making such a request when I tell you that I cannot speak to Polly +for you, why, I shall be forced to repeat what I said at first, that I +won't have anything to do with it." + +"Do you mean it," Pickering put himself in front of Jasper's advancing +strides, "that you will not speak to Polly for me?" + +"I do." + +"I tell you," declared Pickering, now quite beside himself, "it's +absolutely necessary for me to have your word with her, Jasper King." + +"And I tell you I can't give that word," said Jasper. Then he stopped +short, and looked into Pickering's face. "I'm sorry, old chap," and he +put out his hand. + +Pickering knocked it aside in a towering passion. "You needn't 'old +chap' me," he cried. "And there's an end to our friendship, King." He +seized his hat and dashed out of the room. + +"Miss Salisbury!" Alexia Rhys, in real distress, threw herself against +her old teacher, who was hurrying through the long school-room. + +"Well, what is it?" asked Miss Salisbury, settling her glasses for a +look at her former pupil. "You mustn't hinder me; I'm on my way to the +recitation room," and her hand made a movement toward her watch. + +"Oh, don't think of time, Miss Salisbury!" begged Alexia, just as +familiarly as in the old days, "when Polly Pepper needs to be looked out +for." + +"If Polly Pepper needs me in any way, why, I must stop," said the +principal of the "Young Ladies' Select Boarding and Day School," "but I +don't see how she can need me, Alexia," she added in perplexity, "Polly +is fully capable of taking care of herself." + +"Oh, no, she isn't," cried Alexia abruptly. "Beg your pardon, but Polly +is a dear, sweet, dreadful idiot. Oh dear me! what do you suppose, Miss +Salisbury, she has gone and done?" + +"I am quite at a loss to guess," said Miss Salisbury calmly, "and I must +say, Alexia, I am very much pained by your failure to profit by my +instructions. To think that one of my young ladies, especially one on +whom I have spent so much care and attention as yourself, should be so +careless in speech and manner, as you are constantly. 'Gone and +done'--oh, Alexia!" she exclaimed in a grieved way. + +"Oh, I know," cried Alexia imperturbably, "you did your best, dear Miss +Salisbury, and it isn't your fault that I'm not fine. But oh, don't +waste the time, please, over me, when I want to tell you about Polly." + +"What is it about Polly?" demanded Miss Salisbury, fingering her +watch-chain nervously. "Really, Alexia, I think Polly would do very well +if you didn't try so hard to take possession of her. I quite pity her," +she added frankly. + +Alexia burst into a laugh. "It's the only way to catch a glimpse of her. +Miss Salisbury," she cried, "for everybody is trying to take possession +of Polly Pepper. And now--oh, it's getting perfectly dreadful!" + +Miss Salisbury took an impatient step forward. + +"Oh, Miss Salisbury," cried Alexia in alarm, "wait just a minute, do, +dear Miss Salisbury," she cried, throwing her arms around her, thereby +endangering the glasses set upon the fine Roman nose, "there can't any +one help in this but just you." + +"It is very wrong," said Miss Salisbury, yet yielding to the embrace, +"for me to stay and listen to you in this way, but--but I've always been +fond of you, Alexia, and"-- + +"I know it," cried Alexia penitently, "you've just been a dear, always, +Miss Salisbury, to me. If you hadn't, why, I don't know what I should +have done, for I had nobody but aunt," with a little pathetic sniff, "to +look after me." + +"My dear Alexia," cried Miss Salisbury, quite softened, "don't feel so. +You are very dear to me. You always were," patting her hand. "And so +what is it that you want to tell me now? Pray be quick, dear." + +"Well, then, will you promise to make Polly Pepper do what she ought to, +Miss Salisbury?" cried Alexia, quite enchanted with her success thus +far. + +Miss Salisbury turned a puzzled face at her. "Will I make Polly Pepper +do as she ought to?" she repeated. "My dear Alexia, what a strange +request. Polly Pepper is always doing as she ought." + +"Well, Polly is just hateful to herself," declared Alexia, "and if it +wasn't for us girls, she'd--oh, dear me! I don't know what would happen. +What do you suppose, Miss Salisbury, she's gone and--oh dear, I didn't +mean to--but what do you suppose Polly has just done?" + +[Illustration: "MY DEAR ALEXIA," CRIED MISS SALISBURY, QUITE SOFTENED, +"DON'T FEEL SO."] + +Before Miss Salisbury could reply, Alexia rushed on frantically. "If +you'll believe me, Polly has gone and asked that Charlotte Chatterton to +sing at her Recital; just think of that!" exclaimed Alexia, quite gone +at the enormity of such a blunder. + +"Why, doesn't Charlotte Chatterton sing well?" asked Miss Salisbury, in +surprise. + +"Oh, frightfully well," said Alexia, "that's just the trouble. And now +Polly's Recital will all be part of that Chatterton girl's glory. And it +was to be so swell!" And Alexia sank into a chair, and waved back and +forth in grief. + +"Swell! Oh, Alexia," exclaimed Miss Salisbury in consternation. + +"Oh, do excuse me," mumbled Alexia, "but Polly really has spoiled that +elegant Recital. It won't be all Polly's, now. Oh, dear me!" + +Miss Salisbury drew a long breath. "I'm very glad Polly has asked Miss +Chatterton to sing," she said at last. "It was the right thing to do." + +"Very glad that Polly has asked that Chatterton girl to sing?" almost +shrieked Alexia, starting out of her chair. + +"Yes," said Miss Salisbury decidedly. "Very glad indeed, Alexia." + +"And now you won't make Polly see that Charlotte Chatterton ought not to +be stuck into that Recital?" cried Alexia wildly. "Oh, dear me! and you +are the only one that can bring Polly to her senses--oh, dear me!" + +"Certainly not," said Miss Salisbury, with a little dignified laugh. +"The Recital is Polly's, and she knows best how to manage it." + +"Well, we won't applaud, we girls won't," declared Alexia, stiffening +up, "when that Charlotte Chatterton sings; but we'll all just look the +other way--every single one of us." + +"Alexia Rhys!" slowly ejaculated Miss Salisbury in real sorrow. + +"Well, we can't; it wouldn't be right," gasped Alexia. "Don't look so, +Miss Salisbury. Oh, dear me, why will Polly act so! Oh, dear me! I wish +Charlotte Chatterton was in the Red Sea." + +Miss Salisbury gathered herself up in quiet disapproval; and with a +parting look prepared to leave the room. + +"Oh, Miss Salisbury," cried Alexia, flying after her, to pluck her gown, +"do turn around. Oh, dear me!" and she began to cry as hard as she +could. + +"When you have come to your better self, Alexia, I will talk with you," +said Miss Salisbury distinctly, and she went out, and closed the door. + +"Did she say she would--did she--did she?" cried a group of the "old +girls," as Miss Salisbury's present scholars called Polly and her set, +as they came tiptoeing in. "Why, where are you, Alexia?" + +"Here," said a dismal voice from the depths of a corner easy chair. They +all rushed at her. + +"I've had an awful time with her," sobbed Alexia, her face buried in her +handkerchief, "and I suppose it really will kill me, girls." + +"Nonsense!" cried one or two. "Well, what did she say about making Polly +listen to reason?" + +"Oh, dreadful--dreadful!" groaned Alexia gustily. "You can't think!" + +"You don't mean to say that she approves, after all that Polly Pepper +has worked over that old Recital, to"-- + +--"Have some one else come in and grab the glory?" finished another +voice. + +"Oh, dear--dear!" groaned Alexia in between. "And Miss Salisbury would +kill you, Clem, if she heard you say 'grab.'" + +"Well, do tell us, what did Miss Salisbury say?" demanded another girl +impatiently. + +"She said it was right for Polly to ask Charlotte Chatterton to sing, +and she was glad she was going to do it." + +"Oh, horrors!" exclaimed the group in dismal chorus. + +"The idea! as much as she loves Polly Pepper!" cried Sally Moore. + +"And I hate the word 'right,'" exploded Alexia, whirling her +handkerchief around her fingers. "Now! It's poked at one everlastingly. +I think it's just sweet to be wicked." + +"Oh, Alexia Rhys!" + +"Well, just a little bit wicked," said Alexia. + +Cathie Harrison shook back the waves of light hair on her brow. "Girls," +she began hesitatingly. But no one would listen; the laments were going +on so fast over Polly and her doings. + +"It _is_ right!" cried Cathie at last, after many ineffectual +attempt to be heard. "Do stop, girls, making such a noise," she added +impatiently. + +"That's a great way to preach," said Clem, laughing, "lose your temper +to begin with, Cathie." + +"I didn't--that is, I'm sorry," said Cathie. "But, anyway, I want to say +I ought to have been ashamed to act so about that Chatterton girl. Where +should I have been if Polly Pepper hadn't taken me up?" + +She looked down the long aisle to a seat in the corner. "There's where I +sat," pointing to it, "and you all know it, for a whole week, and I +thought I should die; I did," tragically, "without any one speaking to +me. And one day Polly Pepper came up and asked wouldn't I come to her +house to the Bee you were all going to get up to fit out that horrible +old poor white family down South. And I wanted to get up and scream, I +was so glad." + +"Cathie Harrison," exclaimed Alexia, springing to her feet defiantly, +"what do you want to bring back those dreadful old times for! You are +the most uncomfortable person I ever saw." + +"You needn't mind it now, Alexia," cried Cathie, rushing at her, "for +you've been too lovely for anything ever since--you dear!" + +"I lovely? oh, girls, did you hear?" cried Alexia, sinking into her +chair again, quite overcome. "She said I was lovely--oh, dear me!" + +"And so you are," repeated Cathie stoutly; "just as nice and sweet and +lovely to me as you can be. So!" throwing her long arms around Alexia. + +"I didn't want to be; Polly made me," said Alexia. + +"I know it; but I don't care. You are nice now, any way." + +"And I suppose we must be nice to that Chatterton girl now, if she does +break up our fun," said Alexia with a sigh, getting out of her chair. +"Come on, girls; let us go and tell Polly it's just heavenly that +Charlotte is to sing." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +POLLY'S RECITAL. + + +Charlotte Chatterton stood back of the portiere pulling a refractory +button of her glove into place, as a gay group precipitated themselves +into the dressing-room of The Exeter. + +"Now remember, girls," cried Alexia, rushing at the toilet table to +bestow frantic twitches at the fluffy waves of hair over her forehead, +"that we must applaud the very minute that she gets through singing. Oh +dear me, just look at my bangs; they are perfect frights. Hateful +things!" with another pull at the offending locks. + +"It's a swell house," exclaimed one of the girls delightedly. + +"Just let Miss Salisbury catch you saying 'swell,'" warned Alexia. "Take +care now, Sally Moore, this is a very proper and select occasion." + +"Well, do let some of us have that glass a minute," retorted Sally, "and +mend your manners before you take occasion to correct my speech." + +"My bangs are worse than yours, Sally," cried another girl, crowding up; +"do let me get one corner of that glass," trying to achieve a view of +her head over Alexia's shoulder. + +Alexia calmly picked at the fluffy bunch of hair on her brow, giving it +a little quirk before she said, "Don't fight, girls; it quite spoils +one's looks; I never do when I'm dressed up." + +"Of course not," said Sally Moore, "for you get everything you want +without fighting." + +"The idea!" exclaimed Alexia, with an injured expression, "when I never +have my own way. Why, I give up and give up the whole time to somebody. +Well, never mind; let's talk about the Recital. Oh, it's going to be +quite elegant for Polly Pepper. There's a regular society cram in the +Hall." + +"Well, I don't think 'society cram' is a bit better than a 'swell +affair,'" said Clem Forsythe, slipping out of her opera cloak. + +"Nor I either," cried three or four voices. + +"Oh, I don't object to 'swell affair' myself," said Alexia; "I have used +the words on more than one occasion, unless my memory is treacherous. I +only wanted to spare Miss Salisbury's nerves." + +"Pity you didn't give more attention to Miss Salisbury's nerves five or +six years ago," said Sally. "Do get away from that glass." + +"It's no time to talk about me now," observed Alexia. "All our minds +should be on Polly, and her Recital. Girls, _did_ you see Jack +Loughead down at the door?" + +"Didn't we?" cried the girls. + +"He's as handsome as a picture, isn't he?" cried Alexia, with another +little pull at her rebellious hair. + +"Isn't he?" hummed the girls. + +"Well, he won't look at you, for all your fussing over those bangs," +said Sally vindictively. + +"Did you suppose I thought he would?" cried Alexia coolly. "Why, it's +Polly Pepper, everybody knows, that brings him here." + +"What's become of Mr. Bayley?" asked one of the girls suddenly. + +"Hush--sh! you mustn't ask," cried Alexia mysteriously, and turning away +from the mirror, with a lingering movement; "there, it looks shockingly, +but it is as good as I can fix it." + +"Your hair always does look perfectly horrid," declared Sally Moore, +deftly slipping into the vacated place. + +"Well, do tell all you know about Mr. Bayley and Polly," begged the girl +who had raised the question, "I'm just dying to know." + +"Alexia Rhys doesn't know a thing more than we do, Frances," said Clem, +"only she pretends she's in the secret." + +"I was down at Dunraven at the Christmas splurge," said Alexia, "and you +were not, Clem. That's all I shall say," and she leisurely disposed +herself in a big chair, and began to draw on her gloves, with the air of +one who could reveal volumes were she so disposed. + +"Polly wouldn't ever send him off," said one of the girls, "I don't +believe. Why, he's horribly rich; and just think of marrying into the +Bayley family--oh my!" + +"I should think the shock of being asked to enter that family, would +kill any girl, to begin with," said Clem. "Why, he goes back to William +the Conqueror, doesn't he? And there's an earl in the family, and I +don't know what else. And then beside, there's his mother; the idea of +sitting opposite to her at the table every single day--oh dear me! I +know I should drop my knife and fork and things, from pure fright." + +"I'm sure I don't see why anybody is proud to have his family go back +all the time," said Alexia Rhys; "for my part I should want to start +things forward a little myself." + +"Well, who does know anything about it, why Mr. Bayley has gone off +suddenly?" demanded Frances. + +"No one knows," said Clem. + +Alexia hummed a tune provokingly. + +"We all guess, and it's easy enough to guess the truth; but Polly won't +ever let it out, so that's all there is about it." + +"Well, now, girls," said Alexia suddenly, "we must remember what we +promised each other." + +"What do you mean?" asked Frances; "I didn't promise anything to +anybody." + +"You weren't with us when we promised, my dear," answered Alexia, "and +I'll rise and explain. You see we don't any of us like that Charlotte +Chatterton; not a single one of us. She's a perfect stick, I think." + +"So do I," said another girl; "this is the way she walks." Thereupon +followed a representation given to the life, of Charlotte Chatterton's +method of getting her long figure over the ground, which brought subdued +peals of laughter from the girls looking on. + +"And she has no more feeling than an oyster," pursued Alexia, when she +had recovered her breath, "or she might see that Polly was just giving +up all her fun and ours too, by dragging her into everything that is +going on." + +"I know it," said the girls. + +"And I'm so sick of her taking in everything so as a matter of course," +observed Alexia; "oh! she's quite an old sponge." + +"It's bad enough to be called an oyster, without having old sponge +fastened to one," said Sally Moore, coming away from the mirror, thereby +occasioning another rush for that useful dressing-room appointment. + +"Well, she is both of those very things," declared Alexia, "nevertheless +we must applaud her dreadfully when she's finished singing. That's what +we promised each other, Frances. It will please Polly, you know." + +"You better hurry, or you will lose your seats," announced a friendly +voice in the doorway, which had the effect to send the whole bevy out as +precipitately as they had hurried in. + +When she was quite sure that no one remained, Charlotte Chatterton shook +herself free from the friendly portiere-folds, and stepped to the center +of the deserted room. + +"I'll not sing one note!" she declared, standing tall, "not one single +note!" Just then, in ran Amy Loughead. + +"Oh dear, and oh dear!" + +"What is the matter?" asked Charlotte, not moving. + +"Oh, I'm so frightened," gasped Amy, shivering from head to foot, "there +are so many people in there, oh--oh! I can't play!" beating her hands +together in terror. + +"You must," said Charlotte unsympathizingly. + +"I can't--I can't. Oh, I shall die! The hall is full, and they keep +coming in. Oh--Miss Pepper!" + +For Polly, in her soft white gown, was coming quickly into the +dressing-room. + +"Your hands are just as cold as ice," said Polly, gathering up Amy's +shaking little palms into her own. "There now, we'll see if we can't +coax them into playing order," rubbing them between her own warm ones. + +"Oh, I can feel all those people's eyes staring through me," cried Amy, +huddling up against Polly. + +"You mustn't think of their eyes, child," laughed Polly. But there was a +little white line around her mouth. Just then a messenger came in with a +note. + +"Any answer?" asked Polly. "Oh, stay; I would better read it before you +go." And she tore it open. + +"I am so sorry that I cannot keep my engagement to play the duet with +Miss Porter, but the doctor has just been here, and he says I must not +go out. I should have written this morning that I had a sore throat, but +I thought I could manage to go. I'm so sorry--oh, Miss Pepper, I'm so +sorry! + +"JULIA ANDERSON." + +[Illustration: "I'LL NOT SING A NOTE!"] + +The note fell to Polly's lap, and for a minute she could not speak. +"There is no answer," at last she said to the messenger. + +"Oh, Miss Pepper, what is it?" cried Amy Loughead, brought out of her +own fright, by the dread of a new trouble. + +"Julia Anderson is sick and cannot be here," said Polly. + +"Oh, dear! and she was going to play with Miss Porter. What will you +do?" cried Amy in consternation. + +"Why, I shall have to take her place," said Polly, forcing herself to +speak. + +"Oh, dear--dear!" exclaimed Amy, trying not to burst into tears. +"Everything is just as bad and horrid as it can be. Oh, dear, dear, and +I can't play; I should disgrace you!" + +"Oh, no, no, Amy," said Polly, trying to smile, "that you'll never do." +She threw the note on the floor now, and began to rub the cold little +hands again. + +"But--but, I'm so frightened," gasped Amy. + +Charlotte Chatterton walked to the window. + +"I may be a stick, and an oyster, and an old sponge, and everybody wish +me out of the way, but I'm not such a villain as to bother her now by +telling her I won't sing. If they only won't applaud!" She shut her +teeth tightly, and turned back again. + +"I wouldn't, Miss Loughead," she began. But her voice sounded cold and +unsympathetic, and Amy clung to Polly tighter than ever. + +Ben now looked in. "Come, Polly," he said. "You really ought to be out +here, and it's almost three o'clock." + +Amy gave a gasp. "What shall I do?" + +"You may stay in here, if you really wish," said Polly in a low voice, +Charlotte Chatterton looking on with all her eyes, "and I will excuse +you." + +"And will--will you be disappointed in me?" Amy brought out the question +shamefacedly. + +"Very much," said Polly. + +"And will you never try me again--and never give me music lessons?" +asked Amy fearfully. + +"I do not seem to teach you successfully," said Polly very slowly, "so +it would be no use to continue the lessons." And she put aside the +clinging hands. "You may stay here, Amy; I am coming, Ben," looking over +at him. + +"I'll play," cried Amy Loughead desperately. "I'd rather, oh, dear me, +if they were bears and gorillas looking on--and I just know I shall +die--but I'd rather, Miss Pepper, than to have you give me up." + +Charlotte Chatterton drew a long breath. + +"What's the matter?" asked Ben in dismay. + +"Miss Loughead was a little scared, I believe," said Charlotte, with a +touch of scorn in her manner. + +Ben gave an uneasy exclamation. "Everything seems to be all right now," +he said, in a relieved way, looking off at Polly and Amy. + +"Oh, yes; a scare don't amount to much if one has a mind to put it +down," said Charlotte. + +"I should think you'd be scared," said Ben, looking at her admiringly, +"to stand up and sing before all those people. But I suppose you never +are; you don't seem to mind things like the rest of us." + +Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, but said nothing. + +"We are all ready," said Polly cheerfully coming up with Amy. "Oh, +Charlotte, you are such a comfort," she found time to whisper. + +Charlotte clasped her hands tightly together so that an ominous rent +appeared in one of her pretty gloves. "I'll sing," she kept saying to +herself all the way out to the platform, "oh, I'll sing--I'll sing." And +later on, while looking down into the eyes of the girls waiting to +applaud, "I'll sing--I'll sing," she had to declare to herself till her +name was announced. + +As the last note died away, "Who is that girl?" went around the hall. +Charlotte Chatterton had made a sensation. + +Alexia Rhys, angry at the effect of the song, still clapped steadily +together her soft-gloved hands, looking at Polly with the air of a +martyr all the while. + +"Charlotte--oh, I'm glad!" whispered Polly radiantly, "they want you to +sing again," trying to pull her forward, as the storm of applause went +on. + +"I'll not sing!" cried Charlotte passionately. "Never! Don't ask it, +Polly." + +"Why, Charlotte!" implored Polly, astonished at the passion in the girl +usually so cold and indifferent. Still the applause continued, Polly's +set keeping at it like veterans. + +Ben ran up the platform steps with shining eyes. "Grandpapa requests +Charlotte to sing again," he whispered to Polly. + +"There, you hear, Charlotte." said Polly. "Grandpapa wishes it." + +"Very well," said Charlotte, resuming her ordinary manner, and looking +as if it really made no difference to her whether she sang or was quiet, +she walked to her place. + +Polly slipped back of the piano, and began the accompaniment, and again +Charlotte's singing carried all by storm. + +Polly, looking down into Jasper's face, saw him smile over to his +father, and nod in a pleased surprise; and she was aghast to feel a +faint little wish begin to grow in her heart, that Charlotte Chatterton +had not been asked to sing. + +"Of course Jasper is surprised, as he has never heard her sing," said +Polly to herself, "and her voice is so beautiful in this big hall, oh, +it's so very beautiful!" as Charlotte came back, apparently not hearing +the expressions of delight that rang over the concert-room. + +"That Chatterton girl will be all the rage now," whispered Alexia +savagely to Clem who sat next to her. "Look at Mrs. Cabot. She has her +'I'll-take-you-up-and-patronize-you air' on, and I know she's making up +her mind to give Charlotte a musicale." + +Other people also, scattered here and there in the hall, were making up +their minds to introduce Miss Chatterton to their friends; as a girl +with such a wonderful voice, it would be quite worth one's while to +bring out. + +Polly, by this time, explaining to the audience, the failure of Miss +Anderson to take her part in the duet, caught little ends of the +whispers going on beneath her, such as "Perfectly exquisite." "Most +wonderful range." "Shall certainly ask her to sing." And again she saw +Jasper's beaming face, while Ben took no pains to conceal his delight. +And she sat down to the piano mechanically, and began in a dazed way to +help Miss Porter through with the duet that was to have been one of the +finest things on the carefully prepared programme. + +[Illustration: "FOR SHAME, POLLY, IF THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE TEACHINGS +ARE FORGOTTEN LIKE THIS"] + +Suddenly, in the midst of a slow movement, Polly glanced down and caught +her mother's eye. + +"Polly," it said, just as plainly as if Mrs. Fisher had spoken, "is this +my girl? For shame, if the Little Brown House teachings are forgotten +like this." + +Polly straightened up, sent Mamsie down a bright smile that made Mrs. +Fisher nod, and flash back one in return, then bent all her energies to +making that duet speak its message through the concert-room. People who +had rather languished in their chairs, now gathered themselves up with +fresh interest, and clapped their hands at the brilliant passages, and +exclaimed over the ability of the music teacher who could change an +apparent failure to such a glorious success. Everybody said it was +wonderful; and when the duet was over, the house rang with the charming +noise by which the gratified friends tried to express their delight. But +Polly saw only Mamsie's eyes, filled with joy. + +Meantime, Charlotte Chatterton had hurried out to the dressing-room, +tossing on her walking things with a quick hand; and held fast for a +minute as she crept out into the broad passage, by the duet now in full +progress, she went softly down the stairs. + +When it was all over, everybody crowded around Polly. + +"Oh, Miss Pepper, your Recital is lovely! oh, how beautifully Miss +Chatterton sang!" and, + +"Oh, Miss Pepper, I am delighted with your pupils' progress; and what an +exquisite voice Miss Chatterton has!" + +And then it was, "Oh, it must have been so hard, Miss Pepper, for you to +excuse Miss Anderson at the last minute; and we can't thank you enough +for letting us hear Miss Chatterton sing." + +"Oh, I shall fly crazy to hear them go on," cried Alexia to a little +bunch of girls back of the crowd; "will nothing stop them?" wringing her +hands angrily together. "It's all Chatterton, Chatterton now; and after +Polly's magnificent playing too. Oh dear me, I knew it would be so!" + +Polly turned, with a happy face, to pull Charlotte forward to hear the +kind things. "Why, where"-- + +"Oh, she's gone home," answered Alexia, stepping forward +hastily--"Hasn't she, girls?" appealing to them. "She must have; she +went out like a shot. Don't, Polly, how can you?" she begged, turning +back to twitch Polly's arm, "you've done enough, I should think." + +"What did she run off for?" cried Jasper, scaling the platform steps. +Polly glanced quickly up into his beaming face. + +"Oh, Jasper, she has gone home--I couldn't help it," and her face fell. + +He looked annoyed. "Never mind, Polly," he said, his brow clearing, +"father wanted to introduce her to some friends, that's all. Well, and +wasn't it a grand success, though!" and he beamed at her. + +"Yes," said Polly, settling Amy's music with an unsteady hand. + +"And Charlotte really surprised us all," he went on gaily. "Why, Polly, +who would think that we have--or you rather, for you have done it +all--the honor to bring out a nightingale! Here, let me do that for +you." He was fairly bubbling over with delight, and as he essayed to +take the music out of Polly's hand, he laughed again. "Dear me, how +stupid I am," as a piece fluttered to the floor. + +"And didn't Amy do nicely?" asked Polly beginning to feel a bit tired +now. + +"Yes, indeed," assented Jasper enthusiastically, as he recovered the +piece. "Just splendidly! I didn't know she had so much music in her. Oh, +here comes a horde of congratulations, Polly." He threw her the +brightest of smiles as he moved to make way for a group of friends +hurrying up to shower Polly with compliments, and every one had +something delightful to add of Charlotte Chatterton's singing. + +"Jasper couldn't help but be happy over Charlotte's singing," said Polly +to herself, and looking after him, "it's so beautiful," as they came up. + +"Where are you going, Polly?" called Alexia at last, when it was all +over, and the janitor was closing the big outer door, as Polly ran ahead +of the girls and down the long steps of The Exeter. + +[Illustration: POLLY TURNED AND WAVED HER MUSIC-ROLL AT THEM] + +Polly turned and waved her music-roll at them for a reply. + +"Now somebody is going to carry her off," grumbled Alexia; "hurry up, +girls, let's see who it is." So they ran as lightly as Polly herself, +after her, down the steps, only in time to see old Mr. King help her +into the carriage with Mrs. Fisher and Phronsie, and drive rapidly off. + +"Whatever in the world is the matter?" cried Alexia, running up to +Jasper who was watching them speed away. + +"Why, Polly thinks Charlotte is sick," explained Jasper, "because she +went home before the Recital was out." + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Alexia angrily. "What is the matter with +Polly, Jasper? She grows worse and worse. Why can't she let Charlotte +Chatterton alone, pray tell. I, for one, should think mischief enough +had been done by that girl." + +"You should think mischief enough had been done by Charlotte?" repeated +Jasper in astonishment. "I must say, Alexia, that I fail to understand +you." + +"To hear people praise to the very skies that Chatterton girl," cried +Alexia in a passion--she was actually stamping her foot now--"oh, oh! +why don't some of you say something?" she cried, appealing suddenly to +the girls. "You all feel as I do about Polly's pushing forward that +girl; and there you stand and make me do all the talking." + +Jasper looked grave at once. "There is no occasion for any one to exert +herself to talk over this," he said. "It is Polly's affair, and hers +alone." He raised his hat to her, and to the rest of the group, and +walked off. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +PHRONSIE HAS A PLAN. + + +Phronsie was the first to reach Charlotte's door. + +"Charlotte?" she called softly through the keyhole. There was no answer, +and after one or two ineffectual attempts, Phronsie turned fearfully +away. + +"I do believe something is in the room with Charlotte," she said, as +Polly came running up the stairs. Then she sat down on the top step and +clasped her hands. "I heard it raging up and down." + +"Oh, no, Phronsie," said Polly reassuringly, "there couldn't be anything +in there with Charlotte. I'll try," and she laid a quick hand on the +knob. "Oh, Charlotte, do open the door; you are worrying us all so," +called Polly imploringly. + +Charlotte flung wide the door. Two red spots burned on her cheeks, and +her pale blue eyes snapped. But when she saw Polly, she said, "I'm sorry +I frightened you, but I'm best alone." + +"Isn't there really anything in here with you, Charlotte?" asked +Phronsie, getting off from her stair, to peer past Polly. "Oh, I'm sure +I heard it raging up and down." + +"That was I," said Charlotte; "I was the wild beast, Phronsie." + +"Oh, dear," breathed Phronsie. + +"And oh!" exclaimed Polly. + +"Charlotte," said Phronsie, coming in to slip her hand into Charlotte's, +"it was just beautiful when you sang; I thought it was birds when you +went clear up into the air. I did really, Charlotte." + +"Oh, don't!" begged Charlotte, looking over at Polly. + +"Come down to dinner, Charlotte," said Polly quickly. "Really you must, +else I am afraid Grandpapa will be up here after you." + +"I don't want any dinner," said Charlotte, drawing back. + +"Indeed, but you must come down," said Polly firmly, holding out her +hand. "Come, Charlotte." + +"Let me smooth your hair," begged Phronsie, standing on tiptoe; "do bend +down just a very little, please. There, that's it," patting Charlotte's +head with both hands; "now you look very nice; you really do--doesn't +she, Polly." + +"Yes, indeed," said Polly cheerily, "just as fine as can be. There, they +are coming after us," as quick footsteps sounded in the hall below. +"Hurry, Charlotte, do. We're coming, boys," she called. + +They had just finished dinner, when a note was handed Polly. It ran +thus: + +"Do, dear Polly, run over to-morrow morning early. I want to consult you +in regard to asking Miss Chatterton to sing at my next 'At Home.' I +should be charmed to have her favor us. + +"FELICIA A. CABOT." + +"The very thing!" exclaimed Jasper, with only a thought for Polly's +pleasure, when Polly had cried, "How nice of Mrs. Cabot!" "Don't you say +so, father?" he added. + +"Assuredly," said old Mr. King with great satisfaction in Polly's +pleasure, and at her success in drawing Charlotte out. And then he +thought no more about it, and the bell ringing and Mr. Alstyne coming +in, he went off into the library for a quiet chat. + +And after this, there were no more quiet days for Charlotte Chatterton. +Everybody who was musical, wanted to revel in her voice; and everybody +who wasn't, wanted the same thing because it was so talked about. So she +was asked to sing at musicales and receptions without end, until Alexia +exclaimed at last, "They are all raving, stark-mad over her, and it's +all Polly's own fault, the whole of it." + +Phronsie laid down the note she was writing to Mrs. Fargo, a fortnight +later, and said to herself, "I would better do it now, I think," and +going out, she went deliberately to old Mr. King's room, and rapped at +the door. + +"Come in!" called the old gentleman, "come in! Oh, bless me, it's you, +Phronsie!" in pleased surprise. + +"Yes, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, coming in and shutting the door +carefully, "I came on purpose to see you all alone." + +"So you did, dear," said Mr. King, highly gratified, and pushing away +his writing table, he held out his hand. "Now, then, Phronsie, you are +never going to be too big, you know, to sit on my knee, so hop up now." + +"Oh, no, Grandpapa," cried Phronsie in a rapture, "I could never be too +big for that," so she perched up as of old on his knee, then she folded +her hands and looked gravely in his face. + +"Well, my dear, what is it?" asked the old gentleman presently, "you've +come to tell me something, I suppose." + +"Yes, Grandpapa, I have," said Phronsie decidedly, "and it is most +important too, Grandpapa, and oh, I do wish it so much," and she clasped +her hands tighter and sighed. + +"Well, then, Phronsie, if you want it, I suppose it must be," said Mr. +King, quite as a matter of course. "But first, child, tell me what it +is," and he stroked her yellow hair. + +"Grandpapa," asked Phronsie suddenly, "how much money did Mrs. Chatterton +say I was to have?" + +"Oh, bless me!" exclaimed Mr. King, with a start. "Why, what makes you +ask such a question? Oh, she left you everything she had, Phronsie; a +couple of millions or so it is; why?" + +"Grandpapa," asked Phronsie, looking intently at him, "isn't Charlotte +very, very poor?" + +"Charlotte poor?" repeated the old gentleman. "Why, no, not exactly; her +father isn't rich, but Charlotte, I think, may do very well, especially +as I intend to keep her here for a while, and then I shall never let her +suffer, Phronsie; never, indeed." + +"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, "wasn't Mrs. Chatterton aunt to Charlotte?" + +"Yes; that is, to Charlotte's father," corrected Mr. King. "But what of +that, child, pray? What have you got into your head, Phronsie?" + +"If Mrs. Chatterton was aunt to Charlotte," persisted Phronsie +slowly, "it seems as if Charlotte ought to have some of the money. It +really does, Grandpapa." + +"But Cousin Eunice didn't think so, else she'd have left it to +Charlotte," said Mr. King abruptly, "and she did choose to leave it to +you. So there's an end of it, Phronsie. I didn't want you to have it, +but the thing was fixed, and I couldn't help myself. And neither can we +do anything now, but take matters as they are." + +"I do think," said Phronsie, without taking her eyes from his face, +"that maybe Mrs. Chatterton is sorry now, and wishes that she had left +some money to Charlotte. Don't you suppose so, Grandpapa?" and one hand +stole up to his neck. + +"Maybe," said the old gentleman, with a short laugh, "and I shouldn't +wonder if Cousin Eunice was sorry over a few other things too, +Phronsie." + +"Wouldn't it make her very glad if I gave Charlotte some of the money?" +Phronsie's red lips were very close to his ear now, "oh, I do want to so +much; you can't think, Grandpapa, how much!" + +For answer, Mr. King set her down hastily on the floor, and took two or +three turns up and down the room. Phronsie stood a moment quite still +where he left her, then she ran up to him and slipped her hand within +his. + +"Oh, I do so wish I might," she said, "there's so much for a little girl +like me. It would be so nice to have Charlotte have some with me." + +Still no answer. So Phronsie went up and down silently by his side for a +few more turns. Then she spoke again. "Does it make you sorry, Grandpapa +dear, to have me want Charlotte to have the money with me?" she asked +timidly. + +"No, no, child," answered Mr. King hastily, "and yet I don't know what +to say. I don't feel that it would be right for you to give any of your +money to her." + +"Right?" cried Phronsie, opening her brown eyes very wide. "Why, isn't +the money my very own, Grandpapa?" + +"Yes, yes, of course; but you are too young to judge of such things," +said the old gentleman decidedly, "as the giving away of property and +all that." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Phronsie, in gentle reproach, and standing +very tall. "Why, I am thirteen." + +"And when you get to be ten years older, you might blame me," said Mr. +King, "and I can't say but what you'd have reason if I let you do such a +thing as to give away any money to Charlotte." + +"Blame you? Why, Grandpapa, I couldn't." Phronsie drew a long breath, +then threw herself convulsively into his arms, her face working hard in +her efforts not to cry. But it was no use, and Mr. King caught her in +time to see the quick drops roll down Phronsie's cheek and to feel them +fall on his hand. + +"Oh, dear me!" he cried in great distress, "there, there, child, you +shall give away the whole if you wish; I've enough for you without +it--only don't cry, Phronsie. You may do anything you like, dear. +There," mopping up her wet little face with his handkerchief, "now +that's a good child; Phronsie, you are not going to cry, of course not. +There, do smile a bit; that's my girl now," as a faint light stole into +Phronsie's eyes. "I didn't mean you'd really blame me, only"-- + +"I couldn't," still said Phronsie, and it looked as if the shower were +about to fall again. + +"I know, child; you think your old Grandpapa does just about right," +said Mr. King soothingly, and highly gratified. + +"He's ever and always right," said Phronsie, still not moving. + +"Bless you, child," cried the old gentleman, much moved, "I wish I could +say I believed what you say. But many things in my life might have been +bettered." + +"Oh, no, Grandpapa," protested Phronsie in a tone of horror, "they +couldn't have been better. Don't, Grandpapa, don't!" she caught him +around the neck imploringly. + +"Well, I won't, child," promised Mr. King, holding her close. "And now, +Phronsie, I'll tell you; I'll think of all this that you and I have +talked over, and I'll let you know by and by what you ought to do about +it, and you mustn't say anything about it to anybody, not to a single +soul, child. It shall be just a secret between you and me." + +"I won't, Grandpapa," said Phronsie obediently, and patting his broad +back with her soft hand. + +"And, meantime," said Mr. King, quite satisfied, "why, Charlotte is +having pretty good times, I think. Polly is looking out for that." + +"Polly is making her have beautiful times," said Phronsie happily, "oh, +very beautiful times indeed, Grandpapa." + +"I expect she's an awful nuisance," the old gentleman broke out +suddenly. + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Phronsie, breaking away from him to look into +his face. + +"Well, well, perhaps I shouldn't say quite that," said Mr. King, +correcting himself. "But, well, now, Phronsie, you run back to your +play, child, and I'll set to work at once to think out this matter." + +"I was writing a note to Mrs. Fargo," said Phronsie, putting up her lips +for a kiss. "You are sure you won't make your head ache thinking about +it, Grandpapa?" she asked anxiously. + +"Sure as I can be, Phronsie," said old Mr. King, smiling. "Good-by, +dear." + + * * * * * + +"See here, Pickering," Mr. Cabot threw wide the door of his private +office with a nervous hand. "It is time I had a good talk with you. Come +in; I never get one nowadays." + +"Can't stop, Uncle," said Pickering hastily. "Besides, what would be the +use, you never see anything encouraging about me or my career. And I +believe I am going to the dogs." + +"Indeed you are not, Pickering," cried Mr. Cabot quickly, the color +rising to his cheek. "There, there, my sister's boy shall never say +that. But come in, come in." He laid hold of Pickering's arm and gently +forced him into the little room. + +Not to be ungracious, the young man threw himself into a chair. "Well, +what is it, Uncle? Do out with it; I'm in no mood for a lecture, though, +this morning." + +"I'm not going to lecture you, my boy," said Mr. Cabot, closing the +door, then going to the mantel to lean one elbow on it, a favorite +attitude of his, while he scanned his nephew. "But something worse than +common has come to you. Can I help in any way?" + +"No, no, don't ask me," ejaculated Pickering, striking his knee with one +glove, and turning apprehensively in his chair. "Oh, hang it, Uncle, why +can't you let me alone?" + +"I've seen this thing, whatever it is, coming upon you for sometime," +said Mr. Cabot, too nervous to notice the entreaty in Pickering's voice +and manner, "and I cannot wait any longer to find out the trouble. It's +my right, Pickering; you have no father to see to you, and I've always +wanted to have the best success be yours." He turned away his head now, +a break coming in his voice. + +[Illustration: "I'M NOT GOING TO LECTURE YOU."] + +"You have, Uncle, you have," assented Pickering, brought out a trifle +from his distress, "but then I'm not equal to the strain my relatives +put upon me. Not worth it, either," he added, relapsing into his gloom. +Then he shoved his chair so that he could not look his uncle in the +face, and bent a steady glance out of the window. + +Mr. Cabot gave a nervous start that carried him away from the mantel a +step or two. But when he was there, he felt so much worse, that he soon +got back into the old position. + +"I don't see, Pickering," he resumed, "why you shouldn't get along. +You're through college." + +"Which is a wonder," interpolated Pickering. + +"Well, I can't say but that I was a good deal disturbed at one time," +said Mr. Cabot frankly; "but never mind that now, you are through," and +he heaved a sigh of relief, "and nicely established with Van Metre and +Cartwright. It's the best law firm in the town, Pickering." Mr. Cabot +brought his elbow off from the mantel enough to smite his palms together +smartly in enthusiasm. "I got you in there." + +"I know you did, Uncle," said Pickering; "you've done everything that's +good. Only I repeat I'm not worth it," and he drummed on the chair-arm. + +"For Heaven's sake, Pickering!" cried his uncle, darting in front of the +chair and its restless occupant, "don't say that again. It's enough to +make a man go to the bad, to lose hope. What have you been doing lately? +Do you gamble?" + +"What do you take me for?" demanded Pickering, starting to his feet with +flashing eyes, and throwing open his top-coat as if the weight oppressed +him. "I've been a lazy dog all my life, and a good-for-naught; but I +hope I've not sunk to that." + +"Oh, nothing, nothing--I'm sure I didn't mean," cried Mr. Cabot, +starting back suddenly in astonishment. "Dear me, Pickering," taking off +his eyeglasses to blow his nose, "you needn't pick me up so violently. +I've been much worried about you," settling his glasses again for +another look at his nephew. "And I can't tolerate any thoughts I cannot +speak." + +"I should think not," retorted Pickering shortly; "the trouble is in +having the thoughts." + +"And I am very much relieved to find that my fears +are groundless--that you've been about nothing that my sister or I +should be ashamed of," and he picked up courage to step forward gingerly +and pat the young man on the shoulder. "You are in trouble, though, and +I insist on knowing what it is." + +Pickering dropped suddenly beneath his uncle's hand, into the nearest +chair. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THINGS ARE GETTING MIXED. + + +"How can you ask me, Uncle?" cried Pickering passionately. + +"Because I will know." Mr. Cabot was quite determined. + +"Well, then, if you must have it, it's--it's Polly Pepper." Pickering +could get no further. + +"It's Polly Pepper!" ejaculated Mr. Cabot. Then a light broke over his +face, and he laughed aloud, he was so pleased. "You mean, you are in +love with Polly Pepper?" + +"As if everybody didn't know it?" cried Pickering hotly. "Don't pretend, +Uncle, that you are surprised;" he was really disrespectful now in +manner. "Oh, beg pardon, sir," recovering himself. + +"Never mind," said Mr. Cabot indulgently, "you are over-wrought this +morning. My boy," and he came over and clapped his nephew on the back +approvingly, "that's the best thing you ever told me; you make me very +happy, and"-- + +"Hold, Uncle," cried Pickering, darting away from the hand, "don't go so +fast. You are taking too much for granted." + +Mr. Cabot for answer, bestowed another rap, this time on Pickering's +arm, indulging all the while in the broadest of smiles. + +Just then some one knocked at the door, and in response to Mr. Cabot's +unwilling "Come in," Ben's head appeared. "Beg pardon, Mr. Cabot, but +Mr. Van Metre wants you out here." + +Pickering lunged past Ben. "Don't stop me," he cried crossly, in +response to Ben's "Well, old fellow." + +Ben stared after him with puzzled eyes as he shot down the long store; +and all that afternoon he could not get Pickering and his strange ways +out of his mind, and on the edge of the twilight, jumping out of his car +at the corner nearest home, he buttoned up his coat and rushed on, +regardless that Billy Harlowe was making frantic endeavors to overtake +him. + +"What's got into the old chap," said Ben to himself, pushing on doggedly +with the air of a man who has thoughts of his own to think out. "I +declare, if I should know Pickering Dodge lately; I can't tell where to +find him." + +[Illustration: "DON'T STOP ME," CRIED PICKERING CROSSLY.] + +And with no light on his puzzle, Ben turned into the stone gateway, and +strode up to the east porch to let himself in as usual, with his latch +key. As he was fitting it absently, all the while his mind more intent +on Pickering and his changed demeanor than on his own affairs, he heard +a little rustling noise that made him turn his head to see a tall figure +spring down the veranda floor in haste to gain the quickest angle. + +"Charlotte, why, what are you doing out here?" exclaimed Ben, leaving +his key in the lock to look at her. + +"Don't speak!" begged Charlotte hastily, and coming up to him. "Somebody +will hear you. I came out here to walk up and down--I shall die in that +house; and I am going home to-morrow." She nervously twisted her +handkerchief around her fingers, and Ben still looking at her closely, +saw that she had been crying. + +"Charlotte, what are you talking about?" he cried, opening his honest +blue eyes wide at her. "Why, I thought you had ever so much sense, and +that you were way ahead of other girls, except Polly," he added, quite +as a matter of course. + +"Don't!" cried Charlotte, wincing, and, "but I shall go home to-morrow." + +"Look here," Ben took out his key and tucked it into his pocket, then +faced Charlotte, "take a turn up and down, Charlotte; you'll pull out of +your bad fit; you're homesick." Ben's honest face glowed with pity as he +looked at her. + +"I'm--I'm everything," said Charlotte desperately. "O, Ben, you can't +think," she seized his arm, "Polly is just having a dreadful time +because I'm here." + +"See here, now," said Ben, taking the hand on his arm in a strong grip, +as if it were Polly's, "don't you go to getting such an idea into your +head, Charlotte." + +"I can't help it," said Charlotte; "it was put there," she added +bitterly. + +Ben gave a start of surprise. "Well, you are not the sort of girl to +believe such stuff, any way," he said. + +Charlotte pulled away her hand. "I'm going home," she declared flatly. + +"Indeed you are not," said Ben, quite as decidedly. + +"O, yes, I am." + +"We'll see;" he nodded at her. "Take my advice, Charlotte, and don't +make a muff of yourself. + +"It's very easy for you to talk," cried Charlotte, a little pink spot of +anger rising on either cheek, "you have everybody to love you, and to be +glad you are here; very easy, indeed!" + +With that, she walked off, swinging her gown disdainfully after her. + +"Whew!" ejaculated Ben, "well, I must say I'm surprised at you, +Charlotte. I didn't suppose you could be jealous." + +"Jealous?" Charlotte flamed around at him. "O, Ben Pepper, what do you +mean?" + +"You are just as jealous as you can be," said Ben honestly, "absolutely +green." + +"I'd have you to know I never was jealous in my life," said Charlotte, +quite pale now, and standing very still. + +"You don't know it, but you are," said Ben imperturbably; "when people +begin to talk about other folks being loved and happy and all that, +they're always jealous. Why in the world don't you think how everybody +is loving you and wanting to make you happy?" It was quite a long speech +for Ben, and he was overcome with astonishment at himself for having +made it. + +[Illustration: "I'M GOING HOME." DECLARED CHARLOTTE.] + +"Because they are not," said Charlotte bitterly, "at least, they can't +love me, if they do try to make me happy." + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Ben. + +"And Polly"--then Charlotte pulled herself up. + +"Well, what about Polly?" demanded Ben. + +"Oh, nothing." Charlotte twisted uneasily, and shut her lips tightly +together. + +"If you think my sister Polly doesn't love you and want to make you +happy, there's no use in my talking to you," said Ben, in a displeased +way. + +"I didn't say so," cried Charlotte quickly. "Oh, don't go. You are the +only one who can help me," as he made a movement toward the door. "I +never told anybody else, and they don't guess." + +"And it's a pity that they should now," said Ben. "I tell you, +Charlotte, if you never say anything like this again, I'll believe that +you're the girl I thought you, with plenty of sense, and all that. +There, give us your hand. Hurry up, now; here comes Phronsie." + +Charlotte slowly laid her hand in Ben's big palm, as Phronsie opened the +oaken door, and peered out into the darkness. + +"I can't think what makes Ben so late," she said softly to herself. + +"I'm going into the other door," said Charlotte, springing off down the +veranda. + +"Halloo, Pet!" Ben rushed into the hall, and seized Phronsie for a good +hug. + +"O, Ben, you're so late!" cried Phronsie. + +"Well, I'm here now," said Ben comfortably. + +"You can't think what has happened," said Phronsie, with a delightful +air of mystery. + +"To be sure I can't; but you are going to tell me," declared Ben with +assurance. + +"O, Bensie, I'd so much rather you would guess," said Phronsie, clasping +her hands. + +"Well, then, you have a new cat," said Ben at a hazard, while he +disposed of his coat and hat. + +"O, Ben," cried Phronsie in reproach, "why, I've given up having new +cats; indeed I have." + +"Since when?" asked Ben. + +"Why, last week. I really have. I'm not going to get any more," said +Phronsie. + +Ben shouted. At the sound of his voice, somebody called over the stairs, +"O, Ben, are you home? Come up here." + +"Come on, Pet," cried Ben, "we're wanted," seizing Phronsie, and +hurrying off to the stairs. + +"I did so want to tell you myself," mourned Phronsie on the way. + +"Then you shall." Ben set her on the floor suddenly. "I'll come up in a +minute or so," he called. "There now, Phronsie, we'll have the wonderful +news. Out with it, child." + +"I don't suppose you ever could guess," said Phronsie, pausing a moment, +"I really don't, Ben, because this is something you never would think +of." + +"No, I'm quite sure I should never guess in all the world," said Ben +decidedly, "so let us have it." + +"Grandpapa has promised to give us a surprise party," announced +Phronsie, with careful scrutiny to see the effect of her news. + +"A surprise party? Goodness me!" exploded Ben, "what do you mean, +Phronsie?" + +"A surprise party to go and see Jasper; and we are to start to-morrow. +Now, Ben!" and Phronsie, her news all out, beamed up into his face. + +"Oh, so it's Jasper's surprise party," cried Ben. + +"Yes, and it's ours too; because you see we didn't any of us think +Grandpapa was going to do it," said Phronsie. + +"Well, it's my surprise party, too," said Ben lugubriously, "for I'm +astonished; and beside I'm left out in the cold." + +"O, Ben, can't you go?" cried Phronsie, her face falling instantly. + +"No, Pet; wait till you get to be a business man and you'll see that +surprise parties can't be indulged in very often." + +"Won't Mr. Cabot let you go?" asked Phronsie, with an anxious droop of +the head. "O, I think he will; truly I do." + +"I sha'n't ask him," said Ben; "I'm sure of that." + +"But Grandpapa will," said Phronsie, her face changing. + +"No, no, Pet; you mustn't say anything about that. I'd rather stick to +the business. There, come on; they're wild, I suppose, upstairs, to tell +the news." + +Just then some one called Phronsie. "Oh, dear," she sighed +involuntarily, as Ben sped over the stairs without her. + +"I thought you were never coming home, Ben," said Polly, meeting him in +the upper hall. "Oh, we've such a fine thing to tell you!" + +"I'm going to guess," said Ben wisely. + +"Oh, you never can," declared Polly; "never in all this world. Don't +try." + +"Can't I, though? Give me a chance. You are to have a surprise party, +and go to see Jasper. There!" + +"How did you guess?" cried Polly in wide-eyed astonishment. + +Ben burst into a hearty laugh. "Well, I met Phronsie, if you must know." + +"Of course," laughed Polly; "how stupid in me! Well, was ever anything +so fine in all this world?" and she danced down the hall, and came back +flushed and panting. + +"And Grandpapa has written to tell Mr. Cabot how it is, and to ask for a +day or two off for you," she said, with a little pat on his back. + +"O, Polly!" exclaimed Ben, in dismay, "Grandpapa shouldn't--I mean, I +ought not to go. I'd really rather not." + +"Well, Grandpapa says that you are working too hard, Bensie, and it's +quite true," Polly gave him another pat, this time a motherly one; "and +so you are going." + +But Ben shook his head. + +"And we start to-morrow," ran on Polly, "and Jasper doesn't know a word +about our coming; and we are going to stay at the hotel two or three +days." And here Phronsie ran eagerly up the stairs. + +"And it's going to be lovely, and not rain any of the time; and we are +to take Jasper a box full of everything," she announced in great +excitement. "We began to pack it the very minute that Grandpapa told us +we were to go." + +"That's fine! Well, I'll drop something into that box," said Ben. + +"Of course," said Polly, in great satisfaction. + +"And Jasper wouldn't like it not to have something of Ben's in it," said +Phronsie. + +"Well, now, Bensie, run down after dinner and ask Pickering Dodge to go. +That's a good boy." Polly patted the broad back coaxingly this time. + +Ben's face fell. "How do you know that Grandpapa would like to have him +along?" he asked abruptly. + +"As if I'd ask you to invite him," cried Polly, "unless Grandpapa had +said he could go. The very idea, Ben!" + +"Well, something is the matter with Pick," confessed Ben unwillingly, +"and I don't want to ask him." + +"Something the matter with Pickering?" repeated Polly in dismay. "O, +Ben, is he sick?" + +"No," said Ben bluntly, "but he's cross." + +"O, Ben, then something very bad must have happened," said Polly, "for +Pickering is almost never cross." + +"Well, I don't know what to make of him," said Ben; "he's been queer for +a week now, more or less, and to-day he wouldn't speak to me; just shot +off telling me to let him alone;" and Ben rapidly laid before Polly the +little scene of the morning in the store. + +"Now, Ben," said Polly, when it was all over, "I know really that +something dreadful is the matter with Pickering, and I shall send him a +note to come here to-night. He must tell us what it is. I'm going to +write it now." And Polly sped off to her room, followed by Phronsie. + +Ben went slowly down the hall to get ready for dinner. "I don't know how +it is," he said, "but everything seems to be getting mixed up in this +house, and all our good, quiet times gone. And now what can Charlotte +have heard to make her want to go home?" + +And all the time during dinner, Ben kept up a steady thinking, until +Polly, looking across the table, caught his eye. + +"Don't worry," her smile said, "I've sent a note to Pickering, and we'll +find out what the trouble is." + +Ben sat straight in his chair, and nodded back at her. "I can't tell her +now that Pick is not what I'm stewing over," he said to himself, "and I +can't tell her any time, either, for Charlotte has heard something that +makes her think Polly is bothered by her being here. I must just fuss at +it myself till I straighten it out." + +So when Pickering Dodge, with a radiant face at being sent for by +Polly's own hand, ran lightly up the steps of the King mansion, about an +hour later, Ben hurried off to find Charlotte Chatterton. + +"I can't come down," called Charlotte from the upper hall, "I'm tired; +good-night." + +"So am I tired," declared Ben, "but I'm going to talk to you, +Charlotte," he added, decidedly. + +"No; I don't want to talk," said Charlotte, shaking her head. +"Good-night. Thank you, Ben," she added a bit pleasanter, "but I'm not +going down." + +"Indeed you are!" said Ben obstinately. "I'm not going to stir from this +spot," he struck his hand on the stair railing, "until you are down +here. Come, Charlotte." + +"No," began Charlotte, but the next moment she was on the stairs, saying +as she went slowly down, "I don't want to talk, Ben. There isn't +anything to say." + +"Now that's something like," observed Ben cheerfully, as she reached his +side. "Come in here, do, Charlotte," leading the way into Mother +Fisher's little sewing-room. + +"But I'm not going to talk," reiterated Charlotte, following him in. + +"You are going to talk enough so that I can know how to get this +ridiculous idea out of your head," said Ben, as he closed the door on +them both. + +Mr. Cabot hurried into his wife's room, his face lighted with great +satisfaction. "Well, Felicia," he said, "I believe I needn't worry about +that boy any more." + +"Who, Pickering?" asked Mrs. Cabot, with a last little touch to the lace +at her throat. + +"Of course Pickering. Well, he's in better hands than mine. Oh, I'm so +glad to be rid of him;" and he threw himself into an easy chair and +beamed at her. + +"What in the world do you mean, Mr. Cabot?" demanded his wife. "You +haven't had another fuss with Pickering? Oh, I'm quite sure he'll do +well in the Law, if you'll only have patience a little longer." + +"Nonsense, Felicia," said Mr. Cabot, "as if I'd get him out of that +office, when it was such a piece of work to fasten him in there. Well, +to make a long story short, he loves Polly Pepper. Think of that, +Felicia!" And Mr. Cabot, in his joy, got out of the chair and began to +rush up and down the room, rubbing his hands together in glee. + +"O, Mr. Cabot--Mr. Cabot," cried his wife, flying after him, "you don't +mean to say that Pickering and Polly are betrothed? Was ever anything so +lovely! Oh! never mind about dinner; I couldn't eat a mouthful. I must +go right around there, and get my arms around that dear girl. Tell Biggs +to put the horses in at once." + +"Stop just one moment, Felicia, for Heaven's sake!" cried Mr. Cabot, +putting himself in front of her; "that's just like a woman; only hear +the first word, and off she goes!" + +"Do order the carriage," begged Mrs. Cabot, with dancing eyes. "I can't +wait an instant, but I must tell Polly how glad we are. And of course +you'll come too, Mr. Cabot. Oh, dear, it's such blessed news!" + +"I didn't say they were engaged," began Mr. Cabot frantically, "I--I"-- + +"Didn't say that Polly and Pickering were engaged?" repeated Mrs. Cabot. +"Well, what did you say, Mr. Cabot?" + +"I said he loved her," said Mr. Cabot. "O, Felicia, it's the making of +the boy," he added jubilantly. + +Mrs. Cabot sank into her husband's deserted chair, unable to find a +word. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +POLLY TRIES TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT. + + +"O, Pickering!" Polly actually ran into the drawing-room with +outstretched hands. "Why did Jencks put you in here?" + +"I asked to come in here," said Pickering. "I don't want to see a lot of +people to-night; I only want you, Polly." + +"But Mamsie could help you--she'd know the right thing to say to you," +said Polly. + +"No, no!" cried Pickering in alarm, and edging off into a corner. "Do +sit down, Polly, I--I want to talk to you." + +So Polly sat down, her eyes fastened on his face, and wishing all the +while that Mamsie would come in. + +"I don't wonder you think I'm in a bad way," began Pickering nervously; +"it was awfully good in you to send for me, Polly, awfully." + +"Why, I couldn't help it," said Polly. "You know it's just like having +one of the boys in trouble, to have you worried, Pickering." + +"Yes, yes," said Pickering, "I know." + +"Well, I want to tell you something," began Polly radiantly, thinking it +better to cheer him up a bit with her news before getting at the root of +his trouble. "Do you know that Grandpapa is going to take us all +to-morrow to see Jasper? It's to be a surprise party." + +"Ah," said Pickering, all his gladness gone. + +"Yes; and Grandpapa wants you to go with us, Pickering," Polly went on. + +"Oh, dear me--I can't--can't possibly!" exclaimed Pickering, in a tone +of horror. "Don't ask me, Polly. Anything but that." + +"O, yes, you can," laughed Polly, determined to get him out of his +strange mood. "Why, Pickering, we don't want to go without you. It would +spoil all our fun." + +"Well, I can't go," cried Pickering, in an agony at being misunderstood. +"I'd do anything in the world you ask, Polly, but that." + +"Why not, you ridiculous boy?" asked Polly, quite as if it were Joel who +was before her. + +"Because Jasper and I don't speak to each other," Pickering bolted out; +"we had a fight." + +[Illustration: "WHAT DO YOU SAY?" CRIED POLLY.] + +Polly sprang to her feet. "What do you say?" she cried. + +"It's beastly, I know," declared Pickering, his face aflame, "but, +Polly, if you knew--I really couldn't help it; Jasper was"-- + +"Don't tell me that it was any of Jasper's doings," cried Polly +vehemently, clasping her hands tightly together, so afraid she might say +something to make the matter worse. "I know, Pickering, it was quite +your own fault if you won't speak." + +"O, Polly!" exclaimed Pickering, the hot blood all over his face, "don't +say that; please don't." + +"I must; because I know it is the truth," said Polly uncompromisingly. +"If it isn't, why, then come with us to-morrow, Pickering," and her brow +cleared. + +"I can't, Polly, I can't possibly," cried Pickering in distress; "ask me +anything but that, and I'll do it." + +"This is the only thing that you ought to do," said Polly coldly. "O, +Pickering, suppose that anything should happen so that you never could +speak!" she added reproachfully. + +"I'm sure I don't want to speak to a man when I've broken friendship +with him," said Pickering sullenly. "What is there to talk about, I'd +like to know?" + +"If you've broken friendship with Jasper, I'm quite, quite sure it is +your own fault," hotly declared Polly again; "Jasper never turned away +from a friend in his life." And Polly broke off suddenly and walked down +the long room, aghast to find how angry she was at each step. + +"Don't you turn away from me, Polly," begged Pickering in such a piteous +tone that Polly felt little twinges of remorse, and in a minute she was +by his side again. + +"I didn't mean to be cross," she said quickly, "but you mustn't say such +things, Pickering." + +"I must tell you the truth," said Pickering doggedly, "and that is that +I've broken friendship with Jasper, and I can't speak to him." + +"Pickering," said Polly, whirling abruptly to get a good look at his +face, "you must speak to Jasper," and she drew a long breath. + +"I tell you I can't," said Pickering, his face paling with the effort to +control himself. + +"Then," said Polly, very deliberately, yet with a glow of determination, +"you can't speak to me; so good-night, Pickering," and she ran out of +the room. + +Pickering stared after her a moment in a dazed way, then picked up his +hat, and darted out of the house, shutting the door hard behind him. + +Polly, hurrying over the stairs to her own room, kept saying to herself +over and over, "Oh! how could I have said that--how could I? when I want +to help him--and now I have made everything worse." + +"Polly," called Mrs. Fisher, as Polly sped by her door, "you are going +to take the noon train, you know, to-morrow, Mr. King says; so you can +pack in the morning easily." + +"I'm not going, Mamsie; that is--I hope we are not any of us going," +said Polly incoherently, as she tried to hurry by. + +"Not going! Polly, child, what do you mean?" cried Mrs. Fisher aghast. + +"O, Mamsie, don't ask me," begged Polly, having hard work to keep the +tears back. "Do forgive me, but need I tell?" and Polly stopped and +clung to the knob of the door. + +"No, Polly, if you cannot tell mother your trouble willingly, I will not +ask it, child." And Mrs. Fisher turned off, and began to busy herself +over her work. + +Polly, quite broken down by this, deserted her door-knob, and rushed +into the bedroom. + +"O, Mamsie, it's about--about other people, and I didn't know as I ought +to tell. Need I?" cried Polly imploringly, seizing her mother's gown +just as Phronsie would. + +"No more had you a right to tell, Polly," said her mother, "if that is +the case," and she turned a cheerful face toward her; "I can trust my +girl, that she won't keep anything that is her own, away from me. There, +there;" and she smoothed Polly's brown hair with her hand. "How I used +to be always telling you to brush your hair, and now how nice it looks, +Polly," she added approvingly. + +"It's the same fly-away hair now," said Polly, throwing back her +rebellious locks with an impatient toss of the head. "Oh! how I do wish +I had smooth hair like Charlotte's." + +"Fly-away hair, when it's taken care of as it ought to be," observed +Mrs. Fisher, "is one thing, and when it's all sixes and sevens because a +girl doesn't have time to brush it, is another. Your hair is all right +now, Polly, There, go, child;" and she dismissed her with a final loving +pat. "I can trust you, and when your worry gets too big for you, why, +bring it to mother." + +So Polly, up in her own room at last, crept into a corner, and there +went over every word, bitterly lamenting what she had done. At last she +could endure it no longer, and she sprang up. "I'll write a note to +Pickering and say I am sorry," she cried to herself. "Maybe Ben will +take it to him. O, dear! I forgot; Ben is vexed with him; but perhaps he +will leave it at the door. Any way, I'll ask him." + +So Polly scribbled down hastily: + +Dear Pickering: + +I am so sorry I said those words to you; I don't see how I came to. Do +forget them, and forgive + Polly. + +"Ben, Ben!" Polly ran over the stairs, nervously twirling the little +note. "O, dear me, where are you, Ben?" + +"Here," called Ben, "in Mamsie's sewing-room." + +"Oh! I beg your pardon," exclaimed Polly, throwing wide the door on the +tete-a-tete Ben was having with Charlotte. + +"Come in, Polly," cried Ben, his blue eyes glowing with welcome. "That's +all right; you don't interrupt us. Charlotte and I were having a bit of +a talk, but we're through. Now what's the matter?" with a good look at +Polly's face. + +"O, Ben, if you could," began Polly fearfully, "it's only this," waving +the note with trembling fingers. "Now do say you will take this note to +Pickering Dodge." + +"Why, I thought you sent him a note before dinner," said Ben in +surprise. + +"So I did; and he came," said Polly, her head drooping in a shamefaced +way, "and I was cross to him." + +"O, Polly, you cross to him!" exclaimed Ben; "as if I'd believe that!" +while Charlotte stared at her with wide eyes. + +"I truly was," confessed Polly. "There, don't stop, Ben, to talk about +it, please, but do take this note," thrusting it at him. + +But Ben shook his head. "I thought I told you, Polly, that Pick don't +want to speak to me. How in the world can I go at him?" At this +Charlotte stared worse than ever. + +"You needn't go in the house," said Polly, "just leave it at the door. +Ah, do, Ben;" she went up to him and coaxingly patted his cheek. + +"All right, as long as you don't want me to bore him," said Ben, slowly +getting out of his chair. "Here, give us your note, Polly. Of course +you'll make me do as you say." + +"You're just as splendid as you can be," cried Polly joyfully. "There, +now, Bensie," pushing the note into his hand, "do hurry, that's a good +boy." + +And in a quarter of an hour, Ben rushed in, meeting Polly in the hall, +kis face aglow, and eyes shining. "Here, Polly, catch it," tossing her a +note; "that's from Pick." + +"Why, did you see him?" asked Polly, in amazement. + +"Yes; couldn't help it--he was rushing out the door like a whirlwind, +and we came together on the steps," said Ben, with a burst of laughter +at the remembrance, "and we spoke before we meant to; couldn't help it, +you know; just ran into each other--and he read your note, and then he +flew into the house, and was gone a moment or two, and came back +mumbling it was all his fault, and he'd written; that you'd understand, +or something of that sort, and he gave me this note to carry back; and I +guess Pick is all right, Polly." Ben drew a long breath of relief after +he got through; he was so unaccustomed to long speeches. + +Polly tore open her note, and stooped to read it by the dancing flames +of the hall fire. + +To show that I forgive you, Polly, I'll go to-morrow with you all to see +Jasper. + +PICKERING. + +"Won't Jasper be surprised?" Phronsie kept exclaiming over and over, +when they were once fairly in the cars; much to old Mr. King's delight, +who never tired of congratulating himself on planning the outing. +"Grandpapa dear, I do think it was, oh! so lovely in you to take us +all." + +"Well, Jasper has been working hard lately," said the old gentleman, +"and it will be no end of good to him even if it doesn't agree with you, +my pet," pinching Phronsie's ear. + +"Oh, but it does agree with me," said Phronsie in great satisfaction, +"very much, indeed, Grandpapa." + +"So it seems," said the old gentleman. "Well, now, Phronsie," glancing +around at the rest of his party, "everything is moving on well, and I +believe I'll take a bit of a nap; that is, if that youngster," with a +nod toward the end of the car, "will allow me to." + +"I don't believe that baby will cry any more," said Phronsie, with a +hopeful glance whence the disturbing sounds came, "he can't, Grandpapa; +he's cried so much. Now do lean your head back; I'm going to put this +rug under it;" and Phronsie began to pull out a traveling blanket from +the roll. + +Polly, across the car aisle, laid down her book, and clambered out her +seat. "Let me take baby," she said, coming up unsteadily to the pale +little woman who was endeavoring to pacify a stout, red-cheeked boy a +year old, just beginning on a fresh series of roars. + +An old gentleman in the seat back, laid down the paper he had been +trying to read, to see the fresh attempts on the small disturber. + +"He'll tire you out, Miss," said the pale little woman deprecatingly. +"There, there, Johnny, do be still," with an uneasy pull at Johnny's red +skirt. + +"Indeed he won't," laughed Polly merrily. Hearing this, Johnny stopped +beating the window in the vain effort to get out, and deliberately +looked Polly over. "I like babies," added Polly, "and if you'll let me," +to the little mother, "I'm going to play with this one." And without +waiting for an answer, she sat down in the end of the seat, and held out +her hands alluringly to Johnny. + +"Young lady, there are babies and babies," observed the old gentleman +solemnly, and leaning over the back of the seat, he regarded Polly over +his spectacles with pitying eyes, "and I'd advise you to have nothing to +do with this particular one." + +But Johnny was already scrambling all over Polly's traveling gown, and +she was laughing at him. And presently the pale little woman was +stretched comfortably on the opposite seat, her eyes closed restfully. + +"Well done!" cried the old gentleman; "I'll read my paper while the calm +spell lasts;" as the train rumbled on, the sound only broken by Johnny's +delighted little gurgles, as Polly played "Rabbit and Fox" for his +delectation. + +Phronsie looked down the intervening space, and heaved a sigh at Polly's +employment. + +"Don't worry; I like it," telegraphed Polly, nodding away to her. So +Phronsie turned again to her watch, lest Grandpapa's head should slip +from the blanket pillow in a sudden lurch of the cars. + +"I'd help her if I knew how," Charlotte, several seats off, groaned to +herself, "but that lump of a baby would only roar at me. Dear, dear, am +I never to be any good to Polly?" + +She leaned her troubled face against the window-side, her chin resting +on her hand, and gave herself up to the old thoughts. "What did Ben +say?" she cried suddenly, flying away from the window so abruptly that +she involuntarily glanced around to be quite sure that none of her +fellow-passengers were laughing at her. "'You may be sure, Charlotte, if +you keep on the lookout, there will a time come for you to help Polly.' +That's what he said, and I'll hold fast to it." + +On and on the train rumbled. The little mother woke up with a new light +in her eyes, and a pink color on her cheeks. "I haven't had such a sleep +in weeks," she said gratefully. Then she leaned forward. + +"I'll take Johnny now," she said; "you must be so tired." + +But Johnny roared out "No," and beat her off with small fists and feet. + +"He's going to sleep," said Polly, looking down at him snuggled up +tightly within her arm, his heavy eyelids slowly drooping, "then I'll +put him down on the seat, and tuck him up for a good long nap." + +At the word "sleep" Johnny screamed out, "No, no!" and thrust his fat +knuckles into his eyes, while he tried to sit up straight in Polly's +lap. + +"There, there," cried Polly soothingly, "now fly back, little bird, into +your nest." + +Johnny showed all the small white teeth he possessed, in a gleeful +laugh, and burrowed deeper than before within the kind arm as he tried +to play "Bo-peep" with her. + +"You see," said Polly, to the little mother's worried look; "he'll soon +be off in Nodland," she added softly. + +"I've never had any one be so good to me," said Johnny's mother +brokenly, "as you, Miss." + +"Is Johnny your only little boy?" asked Polly, to stop the flow of +gratitude. + +"Yes, Miss; I've buried four children." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Polly, quite hushed. + +The little mother wiped away the tears from her eyes, and looked out of +the window, steadily fixing her gaze on the distant landscape. And the +train sped on. + +"But the worst is, the father is gone." She turned again to Polly, then +glanced down at her black dress. "Johnny and me have no one now." + +"Don't try to tell me," cried Polly involuntarily, "if it pains you." + +She would have taken the thin hand in hers, but Johnny's uneasy +breathing showed him still contesting every inch of progress the +"children's sandman" was making toward him, and she didn't dare to move. + +"It does me good," said the little woman, "somehow, I must tell you, +Miss. And now I'm going to Fall River. Somebody told me I'd get work +there in the Print Mills. You see, I haven't any father nor mother, nor +anybody belonging to Johnny's father nor me." + +"Are you sure of getting work when you reach Fall River?" asked Polly, +feeling all the thrill of a great lonely world, for two such little +helpless beings to be cast adrift in it. + +"No'm," said the little woman; "but it's a big mill, they say, and has +to have lots of women in it, and there must be a place for me. I do +think that times are going to be good now for Johnny and me, and"-- + +A crash like that when the lightning begins on deadly work; a surging, +helpless tossing from side to side, when the hands strike blindly out on +either side for something to cling to; a sudden fall, down, down, to +unknown depths; a confused medley of shouts, and one long shuddering +scream. + +"Oh! what"--began Polly, holding to Johnny through it all. And then she +knew no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE ACCIDENT. + + +A roaring sound close to her ear made Polly start, and open her eyes. +Johnny's fat arms were clutched around her neck so tightly she could +scarcely breathe, while he was screaming as hard as he could. + +--"is the matter?" cried Polly, finishing her sentence. + +A pair of strong arms were lifting her up, and pulling her from beneath +something, she could not tell what, that was lying heavily over her, +while Johnny rolled off like a ball. + +"O, Ben!" cried Polly gratefully, as the arms carried her off. And then +she saw the face above her: "Why, Pickering!" + +"Are you hurt anywhere?" gasped Pickering, speaking the words with +difficulty. + +"What is it?" cried Polly, in a dazed way. + +"There's been an accident," said Pickering. "Oh, Polly, say you're not +hurt!" as he set her carefully down. + +"An accident!" exclaimed Polly, and she sprang to her feet and glanced +wildly around. "Pickering--where--where"--she couldn't ask "are Phronsie +and Ben and Grandpapa?" + +But Pickering cried at once, "All right--every single one. Here comes +Phronsie, and Ben too." + +And Phronsie running up, with streaming hair and white cheeks, threw +glad arms around her neck. "Oh, Polly, are you hurt?" And Ben seized +her, but at that she winced; and her left arm fell heavily to her side. + +"Where's Baby?" cried Polly, trying to cover up the expression of pain; +"do somebody look after him." + +"Charlotte has him," said Phronsie, looking off to a grassy bank by the +railroad track, where Charlotte Chatterton sat with Johnny in her lap. + +Polly followed the glance, then off to the broken car, one end of which +lay in ruins across the rails, and to the crowds of people running to +the scene, in the midst of which was the fearful hush that proclaimed +death. + +"Oh! do come and help," called Polly, and before they knew it, she was +dashing off, and running over the grass, up to the track. "There was a +woman--Johnny's mother," she cried, pushing her way into the crowd, +Phronsie and Ben and Pickering close behind--"in the seat opposite me." + +Two or three men were picking up a still figure they had just pried out +from the ruins of the car-end, dropped helplessly on its side, just as +it fell when the fatal blow came. "Let me see her," said Polly hoarsely. +They turned the face obediently; there was a long, terrible gash on the +forehead that showed death to have come instantly to Johnny's mother, +and that "good times" had already begun for her, and her weary feet were +safely at rest in the Heavenly Home. + +Polly drew a long breath, and bending suddenly dropped a kiss on the +peaceful cheek; then she drew out her handkerchief, and softly laid it +over the dead face. "Take her to that farmhouse." She pointed to a large +white house off in the fields. "I will go there--but I must help here +first." + +[Illustration: "OH, POLLY, ARE YOU HURT?"] + +"Yes, Miss," said the men obediently, moving off with their burden. + +"Polly--Polly, come away," begged Pickering and Ben. + +"Grandpapa is sitting on the bank over there," pointed Phronsie, with a +beseeching finger. "Oh, do go to him, Polly; I'll stay and help the poor +people." + +"And no one was hurt," said Ben quickly, "only in this end of the car. +See, Polly, everybody is out," pointing past the crowd into the car, to +the vacant seats. + +"There was an old gentleman in the seat back of me," cried Polly, in +distress. "Hasn't any one seen him?" running up and down the track; "an +old gentleman with a black velvet cap"--amid shouts of "Keep out--the +car is taking fire. Don't go near it." + +A little tongue of flame shooting from one of the windows at the further +end of the car proclaimed this fact, without the words. + +"Has no one seen him?" called Polly, in a voice so clear and piercing +that it rose above the babel of the crowd, and the groans of one or two +injured people drawn out from the ruin, and lying on the bank, waiting +the surgeon's arrival. "Then he must be in the car. Oh, Ben--come, we +must get him out!" and she sprang back toward the broken car end. + +"Keep back, Polly!" commanded Ben, and "I shall go," cried Pickering +Dodge. But Polly ran too, and clambered with them, over the crushed car +seats and window frames of the ruin. + +"He's not here," cried Ben, while the hot flame seemed to be sweeping +with cruel haste, down to catch them. + +"Look--oh, he must be!" cried Polly wildly, peering into the ruin. "Oh, +Ben, I see a hand!" + +But a rough grasp on her shoulder seized her as the words left her +mouth. "Come out of here, Miss, or you'll be killed," and Polly was +being borne off by rescuers who had seen her rush with the two young +men, in amongst the ruin. "I tell you," cried Polly, struggling to get +free, "there is an old gentleman buried in there; I saw his hand." + +"Everybody is out, Miss," and they carried her off. But Ben and +Pickering were already in a race with the flames, for the possession of +the old gentleman, whose body, after the car seat was removed, could +plainly be seen. + +"There's the axe," cried Ben hoarsely, pointing to it, where it had +fallen near to Pickering. + +Pickering measured the approach of the flames with a careful eye. "He is +probably dead," he said to Ben. "Shall we?" + +"Hand the axe," cried Ben. Already the car was at a stifling heat, and +the roar of the flames grew perilously near. Would no one come to help +them? Must they die like animals in a trap? Well, the work was to be +done. Two--three ringing blows breaking away a heavy beam, quick, agile +pulling up of the broken window frame, and in the very teeth of the +flames, young arms bore out the old body. + +A great shout burst from the crowd as they staggered forth with their +burden. Pickering had only strength to look around for Polly, before he +dropped on the grass. + +And when he looked up, the tears were raining on his face. + +"O, Pickering!" cried Polly. "Now there isn't anything more to long for. +You are all right?" + +Pickering lifted his head feebly, and glanced around. The walls of the +"spare room" at the farm-house, gay in large flowered paper, met his +eyes. "Why, where am I?" he began. + +"At good Farmer Higby's," said Polly. And then he saw that her arm was +in a sling. "That's nothing," she finished, meeting his look, "it's all +fixed as good as can be, and has nothing to do but get well--has it, +Ben?" + +Ben popped up his head from the depths of the easy chair, where he had +crouched, afraid lest Pickering should revive and see him too suddenly. + +"How are you, old fellow?" he now cried, advancing toward the bed. +"There, don't try to speak," hurriedly, "everything is all right. Wait +till you are better." + +"How long have I been here?" asked Pickering, looking at Polly's arm. + +"Only a day," said Polly, "and now you must have something to eat," +starting toward the door. + +"I couldn't eat a mouthful," said Pickering, shutting his mouth and +turning on the pillow. + +"Indeed you will," declared Polly, hurrying on. "The doctor said as soon +as you could talk, you must have something to eat; and I shall tell Mrs. +Higby to bring it up." So she disappeared. + +"Goodness me! have I had the doctor?" asked Pickering, turning back to +look after her. + +"Yes," said Ben. Then he tried to turn the conversation. But Pickering +broke in. "Did Polly break her arm at--at the first?" he asked, holding +his breath for the answer. + +"Yes," said Ben, "don't talk about it," with a gasp--"Polly says that +she is so glad it isn't her right arm," he added, with an attempt at +cheerfulness. "And the doctor promises it will be all right soon. It's +lucky there is a good one here." + +Pickering groaned. "It's a pity I wasn't in the old fellow's place, +Ben," he said, "for I've got to tell Polly how I wanted to leave him, +and I'd rather die than see her face." + +"See here," cried Ben, "if you say one word to Polly about it, I'll +pitch you out of the window, sick as you are." + +"Pitch ahead, then," said Pickering, "for I shall tell Polly." + +"Not to-day, any way. Now promise," said Ben resolutely. + +"Well--but I shall tell her sometime," said Pickering. "I'd rather she +knew it--but I wish we could have saved him." + +"He's in the other room," said Ben suddenly. + +"Poor old thing--to die like that." + +"Die? He's as well as a fish," said Ben; "sitting up in an easy chair, +and to my certain knowledge, eating dried herrings and cheese at this +very minute." + +"He's eating dried herrings and cheese!" repeated Pickering, nearly +skipping out of bed. "Why, wasn't he dead when we brought him out?" + +"No, only stunned. There, do get back," said Ben, pushing Pickering well +under the blankets again, "the doctor says on no account are you to get +up until he came. Do keep still; he'll be here presently," with a glance +at Mrs. Higby's chimney clock. + +"The doctor--who cares for him!" cried Pickering, nevertheless he +scrambled back again, and allowed Ben to tuck him in tightly. And +presently in came Polly, and after her, a bright apple-cheeked woman +bearing a tray, on which steamed a bowl of gruel. + +[Illustration: OLD MR. KING DREW UP HIS CHAIR TO OVERSEE IT ALL.] + +And in less time than it takes to tell it, Pickering was bolstered up +against his pillows, and obediently opening his mouth at the right times +to admit of the spoonfuls Polly held out to him. And Phronsie came in +and perched on the foot of the four-poster, gravely watching it all. And +old Mr. King followed, drawing up the easy chair to the bedside, where +he could oversee the whole thing. And before it was over, the door +opened, and a young man, with a professional air, looked in and said in +great satisfaction, "That's good," coming up to the bed and putting out +his hand to Pickering. + +"Here's the doctor," cried old Mr. King, with a flourish of his palm. +"Well, Doctor Bryce, your patient is doing pretty well, I think." + +"I should say so," answered the doctor, with a keen glance at Pickering. +"O, he's all right. How is the arm?" to Polly. + +"That is all right too," said Polly cheerfully, and trying to talk of +something else. + +"Let me feed Pickering, do," begged Phronsie, slipping from the bed, +"while Doctor looks at your arm, Polly." + +"I can wait," said the doctor, moving down to the foot of the +four-poster, where he stood looking at the feeding process, "and I can +go in and see Mr. Loughead meanwhile." + +Pickering dodged the spoon, nearly in his mouth. "Who?" he cried. + +"Dear me," cried Polly, trying to save the gruel drops from falling on +Mrs. Higby's crazy quilt, "how you frightened me, Pickering." + +"Who did he say?" demanded Pickering, as Dr. Bryce went out. + +"Pickering," said Polly, with shining eyes, "who do you think you and +Ben saved so bravely? Jack Loughead's uncle, who has just got here from +Australia, and he's"-- + +Pickering gave a groan and turned on his pillow. "Don't give me any +more, Polly," he said, putting up his hand. + +Polly set the spoon in the gruel bowl, with a disappointed air. + +"Never mind," said the young doctor, coming back again, "he's eaten +enough. Now may I see your arm?" He turned to Polly gently. "We must go +in the other room for that," with a nod at Pickering. + +A thrill went over Phronsie, which she tried her best to conceal, and +she turned quite pale. Polly smiled at her as she went over toward the +door, followed by the doctor, old Mr. King and Ben. Pickering Dodge +clenched his hand under the bedclothes, and looked after them, then +steadfastly gazed at the large flowers blooming with reckless abandon up +and down over the dark-green wall-paper. + +"Phronsie," said Polly, hearing her footsteps joining the others out in +the hall, "will you go in and see how Charlotte is getting on with +Johnny? Do, dear," she whispered in Phronsie's ear, as she gained her +side. + +"I'd rather stay with you, Polly," said Phronsie wistfully, "and hold +your other hand." + +"But I do so want you to help Charlotte," said Polly beseechingly. "Will +you, Phronsie?" and she set a kiss on Phronsie's pale cheek. + +"I will, Polly," said Phronsie, with a sigh. But she looked back as she +went slowly along to the opposite end of the hall. "Please don't hurt +Polly," she said imploringly to the doctor. + +"I won't, little girl," he replied, "any more than I can help." + +"Good-by," called Polly cheerfully, and she threw her a kiss with her +right hand. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Farmer Higby stood on her flat door-stone, shading her eyes with +her hand. + +"Seems's if I sha'n't ever get over the shock," she said to herself, +looking off to the railroad track, shining in the morning sunlight. "To +look up from my sewing and see--la! and 'twas the first time I ever sat +down to that rag-rug since I had to drop it and run over and take care +of Simon, when they brought me word he was 'most cut to pieces in the +mowing machine. My senses! I'm afraid to finish the thing." + +The frightened look in her eyes began to deepen, and she shook as if the +chill of a winter day were upon her, instead of the soft air of a mild +morning in spring. + +"I want to get out in the woods and holler," she declared; "seems's if +then I'd feel better. To look up, expecting to see the cars coming along +real lively and pleasant, just as they always do so sociable-like when +I'm sewing, and then--oh, dear me!" she wrung her fat hands together, +"there, all of a sudden, were two of 'em bumping together, one end +smashed into kindling wood, and t'other end sticking up straight in the +air. Oh! my senses, I don't wonder I thought I was going crazy, and that +I let the rug fly and jumped into the middle of the floor, till I heard +the screaming, and I run to help, and there was that poor soul they were +bringing here, and she dead as a stone. Oh, dear, dear!" + +Mrs. Higby turned away so that she could not see the shining railroad +track, and looked off over the meadow, while a happier expression came +over her features. "I'm awful tickled this house is big," she said, with +a good degree of comfort, "so's Jotham and me could take 'em in. Now I'm +glad we didn't sell last spring, when Mary Ann was married, and move +down to the village. Seems's if Providence was in it. Gracious, see that +man running here! I hope there ain't anything else happened!" and with +her old flutter upon her, Mrs. Higby turned to meet a young man +advancing to the door-stone, with more speed than was ordinarily +exhibited by the natives of Brierly. + +"Is this Mr. Jotham Higby's house?" asked the stranger. And although he +was very pale and evidently troubled, he touched his hat, and waited for +her answer. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Higby; "what do you want? Do excuse me," all in the +same breath, "but I'm all upset; there was an awful railroad accident +along here yesterday. You haven't come to tell of anything else bad, +have you?" And she was sharper than ever. + +"No," said the young man, "my friends are here; you took them in so +kindly. Do show me the way to them." He was quite imperative now, moving +over the flat stone, and into the square entry like one accustomed to +being obeyed. "Which way?" he asked, glancing up the stairs. + +"Oh, my!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, "excuse me, sir; the rooms +upstairs"--nodding like a mandarin in the direction named, "any of +'em--all of 'em; they've got 'em all; you can't make a miss." + +The young man was already opening the door of the room where Dr. Bryce +was examining Polly's arm, old Mr. King and Ben looking on anxiously. + +Polly saw him first. "Oh, Jasper!" she cried, with a sudden start. + +"Take care!" exclaimed Dr. Bryce, looking off from the bandages he was +nicely adjusting, to bestow a keen glance on Jasper. + +Jasper gave one hand to his father in passing, but went straight to +Polly's side, and laid his other hand on her shoulder. + +"It's all right, Jasper," said Polly, seeing he couldn't speak. "Doctor +says my arm is doing beautifully." + +"Well, well," said old Mr. King, trying to speak cheerfully, but only +succeeding in a nervous effort, "this isn't just the most successful way +to give you a surprise party, Jasper, but it's the best we could do. And +we had to send you a telegram, for fear you'd see it in the papers. So +you thought you'd come on and see for yourself, eh?" as Jasper showed no +inclination to talk. + +"Yes," said Jasper, still confining himself to monosyllables. + +"And that's the sensible thing to do," said Ben, with a grateful look at +Jasper, "than to wait till we are able to move on--Pickering and all." + +"Is Pickering Dodge with you?" exclaimed Jasper, quickly. + +Polly turned in her chair, and looked into his eyes. "Yes; Pickering +came with us expressly to see you, Jasper." Then without waiting for an +answer, "He is in the next room; do go and see him." + +"Very well," said Jasper, "I'll be back in a moment or two, father," +going out. + +Pickering Dodge still lay, gazing at the sprawling flowers on the wall, +and doing his best not to count them. The door opened suddenly. "Well, +well, old fellow." Jasper came up to the bedside with the air of one who +had been in the habit of running in every little while. "It's good to +see you again, Pick," he added, affectionately, laying his hand, that +good right hand, on the nervous one playing with the coverlids. + +"Of course you couldn't do what I asked, Jasper; no one could," said +Pickering, rolling over to look at him. "And I was a fool to ask it." + +"But I might have been kinder," said Jasper, compressing his lips; +"forget that, Pick." + +"Don't say any more," said Pickering, his face flushing, "and I know +it's all up with me, any way, Jasper." And he turned pale again. "We +pulled an old fellow out of the wreck, at least Ben did the most of +it--Polly wanted us to; and who do you suppose he is? Why, Jack +Loughead's uncle. Of course _he_'ll be here soon, and it's easy to +see the end." + +At that, Pickering bolted up in bed to a sitting position, and clutched +at the collar of his morning jacket with savage fingers. + +"Don't, Pick," begged Jasper, in an unsteady voice. + +"I'm going to get up," declared Pickering deliberately. "Clear out, +Jasper," with a forbidding gesture, "or I'll pitch into you." + +"You'll lie down," said Jasper decidedly; "there, get in again," with a +gentle push on Pickering's long legs. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, +though, to act like this!" trying to speak playfully. + +Pickering scrambled back into bed, fuming every instant. "To lie like a +log here, while that fellow dashes around carrying everything before +him--it's--it's--abominable and atrocious! Let me out, I say!" And he +dashed toward the edge of the bed, nearly knocking Jasper over. + +"Hold on, there," cried Jasper, pinning down the clothes with a firm +hand, "don't you see"--while Pickering struggled to toss them back "Take +care, you'll tear this quilt!--that I'll help you on to your feet all in +good time? And if you behave yourself, you'll be around, and a match for +any Jack Loughead under the heavens. There, now, will you be still?" + +"Send that dunce of a doctor to me as soon as you can," said Pickering, +rolling back suddenly once more, into the hollow made in the center of +the four-poster. "Dear me, he's sweet on Polly too!" he groaned under +the clothes. + +"Whew!" exclaimed Jasper, pulling out his handkerchief to wipe his +forehead. "I won't agree to hold you in bed again, Pick. I'll send the +doctor," he added, going out, "but you see that you don't lose your head +while I'm gone." + +"I'll promise nothing," said Pickering softly to himself, the moment the +door closed, and slipping neatly out of bed, he tiptoed over and turned +the key in the lock. "There," snapping his fingers in the air, "as if +I'd have that idiot of a doctor around me." Then he proceeded to dress +himself very rapidly, but with painstaking care. + +"I'm all right," and he gave himself a final shake; "that doctor would +have made a fool of me and kept me in bed, like enough, for a week. And +with that Jack Loughead here!" He gave a swift glance into the cracked +looking-glass hanging over the high shelf, and with another pull at his +necktie-end, unlocked the door and went out. + +"Halloo!" + +"Oh, beg pardon!" A long figure that had just scaled the stairs, came +suddenly up against Pickering, stalking along the narrow hall. + +"How d'ye do?" said Pickering quite jauntily, and extending the tips of +his fingers; "just got here, I take it, Loughead?" + +"Yes," returned Jack Loughead. Pickering was made no more steady in his +mind, nor on his feet, by seeing the other's evident uneasiness, but he +covered it up by a careless "Well, I suppose you have come to look up +your uncle, hey?" + +"Yes, oh, yes," said Jack, "of course, my uncle. Well, were any of the +others hurt?" + +"Yes; one woman was killed." Pickering could not trust himself to +mention Polly's broken arm yet. + +Jack Loughead's face carried the proper amount of sympathy. "No one of +your party was hurt, I believe?" he said quickly. + +"Oh, look us over, and see for yourself," said Pickering, beginning to +feel faintish, and as if he would like to sit down. And then the door at +the end of the hall was opened, and out came all the others and the +doctor, who was saying, "I'll just step in and look at the young man, +though he's doing well enough--oh, my gracious!" + +"Thank you, I am doing well enough," said Pickering, with his best +society manner on, and extending his hand, "much obliged, I'm sure; what +I should have done without you, I don't know, of course; send in your +bill, and I shall be only too happy to make it all right." + +Jack Loughead rushed up to Polly. "No one told me--is your arm--" he +couldn't say "broken," being quite beyond control of himself. + +"How are you, Mr. Loughead?" said old Mr. King rather stiffly, at being +overlooked, and putting out his courtly old hand. + +"Oh, beg pardon." Jack mumbled something about being an awkward fellow +at the best, and extended a shaking hand. + +"You are anxious to see your uncle, of course," continued the old +gentleman, leading off down the hall, "this way, Mr. Loughead." + +"Of course, yes, indeed," stammered Jack Loughead, having nothing to do +but to follow. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +JOEL. + + +Joel threw down his books in an uneasy way. "I must give it up; there's +no other way," he exclaimed. + +"Halloo, Joe!" + +"You here?" cried Joel, whirling in surprise. "Come out of your hole, +Dave," peering into the niche between the book-shelves and the bed. +"What are you prowling in there for?" + +"Oh! my cuff-button rolled in here somewhere," said David, emerging +crab-wise, and lifting a red face. "Give us a hand, Joe, and help pull +out the bed. Plague on this room for being such a box! There!" with an +impatient shove. + +Joel burst into a fit of laughter, and then stared; it was such an +unusual thing to see a frown on David's placid face. "What's come over +you, any way? Stand out of the way; I'll have this bed over there in a +jiffy," rolling it into the center of the small room as he spoke. + +David sprang to one side lightly. "Whew! what a dust you kick up," he +cried, snapping his clothes gingerly. + +"So you are in your best toggery," exclaimed Joel, standing straight, +his labors over the bed being completed. + +"Yes, I'm going to the Parrotts' to dinner," said David, hurrying off +for the whisk broom to remove the last speck of dust from his dress +suit. "Of course you've forgotten it, Joe, though I don't suppose you'd +go, any way." + +"No, I wouldn't go, any way," said Joel, tossing back his black locks +from his forehead. "You forget, Dave, it's the Association night." + +David let another little frown settle on his face. "No, I didn't forget +that, Joe, but I do wish you'd think it possible to take a Thursday +evening off once in a while for the sake of your friends, if for no +other reason." + +"Well, I can't," said Joel, getting down on all-fours to hunt for the +button, "so don't let's go over old arguments. Where in time is that +thing? oh"--and he came up bright and shining to his feet, holding the +button between his thumb and finger. "My compliments to you," presenting +it to David. "There, stick it in before it gets lost again, and hurry +off; you look pretty as a pink." + +"Stop your nonsense, Joe," cried David sharply, who hated being reminded +of his girlish beauty. "Well, I'll make the usual excuses for you. +Good-by," and not forgetting to pick up his walking stick with his hat, +he ran off on his way to the florist's for the _boutonniere_ that +must go on before he presented himself at the Parrotts' dinner party. + +Joel shoved back the bed into position with one long thrust that would +have been a godsend to a lagging boat crew; then dashed to the table and +sat down, doggedly throwing open the first book that came to hand. + +"I'd rather chop wood," he exclaimed in the old way, leaning his head on +his hands. "Whew! weren't those good days, though, in the little brown +house, when we had all outdoors to work in!" He dropped his arms to +pinch the muscles of one with his other fingers. "Isn't that beautiful?" +he said affectionately. Then he swung them over his head, tilting back +his chair restfully. + +"What did Mamsie say?" he cried, bringing the chair down with a +remorseful thud. "'I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd go through +creditably.' Here goes!" + +And by the time that Davie was handing in Miss Lulu Parrott to dinner +Joel clapped together his last book, threw on his hat, and rushed out to +a hasty supper at Commons, _en route_ to the Christian Association +meeting. + +Little Perkins ran up to him at the close of the meeting. "Stop a bit. +Pepper, do," he begged; "Johnson's gone back to his cups, and we can't +do anything with him." + +A cloud fell over Joel's face. "Where is he?" he asked. + +"Oh, in the little room back. He won't show his face here, and yet he +can't keep away, he says. You must get your hand on him, Pepper," and +Little Perkins hurried off. + +Joel dashed into the "little room back." "How d'ye, Johnson?" putting +out his hand "Come out for a walk, do; why, this room is stifling." + +"I can't," said Johnson miserably; "you don't know, Mr. Pepper, I've +been drinking, or you wouldn't ask me." + +"Nonsense--but I would, though," said Joel sharply. "Come out, I say, +Johnson; it's enough to make you drink again to stay in such a room." + +Johnson not getting out of his chair, Joel went in and laid hold of his +arm. "It's no use, Johnson," he said, "I can't talk to you here; it's +too hot and close. And I do want a walk, so let's have it together. +There, button up your coat," as they were well out in the hall, and +Johnson flung his hat on his head with a reckless hand. + +As they hurried down the steps they ran against a crowd of college boys. +Johnson shrank up miserably against the stone fence, and tried to look +as small as possible. Glances of recognition passed, and Joel spoke to +right and left as the boys went by. But a few hisses, low and insistent, +were all he got. + +"Do let me go," begged Johnson, still hugging the fence, "you can't save +me; and they hate you enough for such work." + +"Come on!" roared Joel at him, and plucking him off from the fence with +a determined hand. + +"It's time we went for him," said one of the college boys, with a +backward glance at Joel and his companion, "the Deacon is absolutely +insulting. The idea of his speaking to us." + +"Let's have it over to-night," said another. "What do you say?" to the +others. + +"Where's Davina?" asked another. + +"Oh, Pink-and-White is out dining," said the first voice. "My pretty +little girl is safe at the Parrotts'." + +"Sure?" + +"As a gun. Met him with a posy in his button-hole, and sweet as a little +bud himself, and he told me so." + +"All right. He'll stay away late, then; the Parrotts always have music +or a dance after their dinners. Come on." The last speaker rolled up his +sleeves, and boxed imaginary rounds in a scientific manner in the air. + +"Agreed?" the tall fellow who proposed it looked over the whole crew. +"Do you all want to have it done to-night?" as they came to a standstill +on the pavement. + +"Yes--yes." + +"Hush--that cop is looking. Move on, will you? Now, not a man of you +backs out, you understand; if he does, he gets worse than the Deacon +will. All right." + + "_We're all such jolly good fellows, + We're all such jolly good fellows_"-- + +Everybody smiled who passed them singing their way down town. + +"It always does me good to hear those students sing. They're so happy, +and so affectionate toward each other," said one lady, hanging on her +escort's arm. + +He, being a college man, said rapturously, "Oh yes!" + +Joel, back in his own room, threw himself in his easy chair, first +turning down the gas. "Just so much less of a bill for Grandpapa. Our +debt is rolling up fast enough without burning up the money. Dear me, if +Johnson drinks after this, I shall be in despair." He threw up his long +legs, and rested them on the mantel, while he thrust his hands in his +pockets, to think the better. + +A knock at the door. "Come in!" called Joel, not looking around, till a +rushing sound of feet trying to step carefully, called him out of +himself. + +"Now--now!" Two or three swifter than the others, darted for the chair, +but Joel was not in it. On the other side of it, looking at them, his +hands out of his pockets, he stood, saying, "What do you want?" + +"Oh, come, Pepper, it's no use," said a tall fellow, wiry and agile, +"too many against you in this little call. Come along," and he advanced +on Joel. + +"You come along yourself, Dobbs," said Joel pleasantly, and holding up a +fist that looked hard to begin with, "and you'll get this; that's all." + +[Illustration: "You come along yourself, Dobbs," said Joel pleasantly.] + +"Come on, fellows!" Dobbs looked back and winked to the others. "Now!" +there was a shoulder-to-shoulder rush; a wild tangle of arms, followed +by a wilder tangle of legs, and Joel was through the ranks, his black +eyes blazing, and tossing his black hair from his forehead. + +"Do you want some more?" he cried, flirting his fists in the air, "or +will you leave my room?" + +"Lock the door!" "Get up, Bingley," and, "Stop your roaring." "No, we'll +give it to you now, and no mistake." "If you won't come quietly, you +shall some way, Deacon." + +These were some of the smothered cries. + +"Now!" and there was another blind rush; this time, over Bingley, who +didn't heed the invitation to get up. + +Joel, watching his chance to reach the door, had no time before they +were on him, and he heard the key click in the lock. + +"It's for Mamsie now, sure--and for Polly!" he said, setting his teeth +hard. On they came. But Joel, in rushing through as before, was so +mindful of stepping over Bingley carefully, that it lost him an instant; +and a grasp firm as iron, was on his arm. The others rallied, and closed +around him. + +"Unhand me!" yelled Joel, beating them off. But he might as well have +fought tigers, unless he could knock off, with cruel aim, the one +hanging to his arm. It was no time to mince matters, and Joel, only +careful to avoid the face, struck a terrible blow that felled Dobbs +flat. + +"Now will you go?" roared Joel, aghast at what he had done, yet swinging +his arms with deadly intent on either side, "or, do you want some more?" + +There lay two valiant fellows on the floor. The rest drew off and looked +at them. + +"You'll pay for this, Deacon," they declared under their breath. + +"I suppose so," said Joel, still swinging his arms for practice; +"probably you'll wait for me with kindly intent some dark night behind a +tree, as you know I don't carry a pistol. Why don't you have it out now? +Come on if you want to." + +But no one seemed to want to. + +"There'll be a row over this," said one or two, consulting together; "as +long as those thin-skinned fellows don't get up," pointing to the floor, +"we must wait." Suddenly the door was unlocked, and the whole crew +stampeded. + +"See here," cried Joel, bounding after them, "come back and take care of +your two men." + +But the crew disappeared. + +Bingley lifted his head feebly. + +"Just like Dobbs," he said, "get us into a scrape, and then cut." + +"Hush--don't say anything," said Joel, rushing frantically back, "I +think he's dead--oh, Bingley, I'm sorry I hurt you too." + +He was rapidly pouring water into the basin, and dashing it into Dobbs' +unconscious face. "I must go for the doctor," he groaned. "Bingley, he +can't be dead--do say he isn't!" in a flood of remorse. + +Bingley managed to roll over and look at his late leader. "He looks like +it," he said; "I shouldn't think you'd be sorry, Pepper." + +"Oh!" groaned Joel, quite horror-stricken, and dashing the water with a +reckless hand, feeling like a murderer all the time. + +"Bingley, could you manage to do this?" at last he cried in despair. "I +must run for a doctor, there's not a minute to lose." + +"I wouldn't go for any doctor," advised Bingley cautiously; "see; his +eyelids are moving--this row will be all over town if you do." + +But Joel was flying off. "Come back!" called Bingley, "I vow he's all +right; he's opened his eyes, Pepper." + +Joel turned; saw for himself that Dobbs was really looking at him, and +that his lips moved as if he wanted to say something. + +"What is it, Dobbs?" cried Joel, throwing himself down on his knees by +Dobbs' side. + +"Let him alone, and help me up," said Bingley crossly, "I'm hurt a great +deal more. He's tough as a boiled owl. Give us a hand, Pepper." + +But Joel had his ear down to Dobbs' mouth. + +"Where are the fellows?" asked Dobbs in a whisper. + +"Gone," answered Joel, briefly. + +"Gone--and left me here like a dog?" said Dobbs. + +"Yes," said Joel. + +"They couldn't wait, my friend," observed Bingley sarcastically, "for +people of such trifling consequence, as you and I." + +"The deuce! you here, Bingley?" exclaimed Dobbs, in his natural voice, +and trying to get his head up. + +"Oh, you are coming to, are you?" said Bingley carelessly. "Well, Dobbs, +I think you better get on your feet, and help me out, since Pepper +won't; for I vow I can't stir." + +"Oh, I'll help you," declared Joel, getting up to run over and put his +hands under Bingley's arms, paling as he exclaimed, "I didn't mean to +hurt you so, Bingley, on my honor I didn't." + +"And you didn't," said Bingley, wincing with the pain, as Joel slowly +drew him to his feet; "it wasn't your stinger of a blow, Pepper, but +some of those dastardly cads stepped all over me; I could feel them +hoofing me. There, set me in that chair, and I'll draw a long breath if +I can." + +"Now, I shall go for a doctor," declared Joel, setting Bingley within +the easy-chair, and making a second dash for the door. + +"I tell you, you will not," cried Bingley, from his chair. "Wait a +minute, till I see where I'm hurt. I'm coming out of it better than I +thought. Come back, Pepper." + +"Really?" Joel drew off from the door, and looked at him. + +"Yes; go and take care of Dobbs; he was only shamming," said Bingley, +leaning his head comfortably on the chair-back. Dobbs already was on his +feet, and slowly standing quite straight. + +"Sure you don't want any help?" asked Joel, putting out his hand. + +"Thanks, no," said Dobbs scornfully, not looking at the hand, but making +for the door. + +"Let him alone, Pepper," advised Bingley; "a mean, low-lived chap like +that isn't hurt; you couldn't kill him," as Joel looked out anxiously to +watch Dobbs' progress along the hall, at last following him along a bit. + +"He's in his own room, thank fortune," exclaimed Joel, coming back, "and +I suppose I can't do any more. But oh, I do wish, Bingley, it hadn't +happened." + +Joel leaned his elbow on the mantel, and looked down at the easy-chair +and its occupant. + +"Perhaps you'd rather be lying there," said Bingley, pointing to the +floor, "instead, with a flopper under your ear, like the nasty one you +gave me, Pepper." + +"I am so sorry for that, too," cried Joel, in a fresh burst of remorse. + +"I got no more, I presume, than was good for me," said Bingley, feeling +the bump under his ear. "And don't you worry, Pepper, for your mind must +be toned up to meet those fellows. They'll be at some neat little game +to pay you up for this, you may rest assured." + +"I suppose so," said Joel indifferently. "Well, now are you sure I can't +do anything for you, Bingley?" + +"Sure as a gun," said Bingley decidedly; "I'm getting quite limbered +out; so I'll go, for I know my room is better than my company, Pepper," +and he dragged himself stiffly out of his chair. + +"Don't go," said Joel hospitably; "stay as long as you want to; I should +be glad to have you." + +Bingley turned a pair of bright eyes on him. "Thank you," he said, "but +Davina will be in soon, and things will have to be explained a little, +and I'm not quite up to it to-night. No, I must go," moving to the door; +"I don't feel like making a pretty speech, Pepper," he said, hesitating +a bit, "or I'd express something of what's on my mind. But I think you +understand." + +"If you want to do me a favor," said Joel steadily, "you'll stop calling +David, Davina. It makes him fearfully mad, and I don't wonder." + +"He's so pretty," said Bingley, with a smile, and wincing at the same +time, "we can't help it. It's a pity to spoil that lovely name." + +"But you must," declared Joel, growing savage; "I tell you, it just +ruins college life for Dave, and he's so bright, and leads his class, I +don't see how you can." + +"Oh, we're awfully proud of him," said Bingley, leaning heavily on the +table, "of course, and trot him out behind his back for praises and all +that, but when it comes to giving up that sweet name--that's another +thing," he added regretfully. "However, I'll do it, and make the other +fellows, if I can." + +"Good for you!" cried Joel gratefully. "Good-night, Bingley; sure you +don't want any help to your room?" + +"Sure," declared Bingley, going out unsteadily and shutting the door. + +Joel threw himself on his knees by the side of the easy-chair, and +burrowed his head deep within it. "Oh, if I only had Mamsie's lap to lay +it in," he groaned, "and Mamsie's hands to go over it." + +"Joe--Joe!" David flung wide the door, "where are you?" he cried. + +Joel sprang to his feet. + +"Here's a telegram," said David, waving a yellow sheet at him. "I just +met the boy bringing it up. The folks were going to see Jasper--on a +surprise party; something happened to the cars, and Polly has her arm +broken--but that's all," delivered David, aghast at Joel's face. + +"Polly? oh, not Polly?" cried Joel, putting up both hands, and feeling +the room turn around with him. + +"Yes, Polly," said David; "don't look so, Joe," he begged, feeling his +own cheeks getting white, "it's only broken--it can't be bad, for we are +not to go, Grandpapa says; see," shaking the telegram at him. + +"But I shall go--we both must," declared Joel passionately, beginning to +rush for his hat behind the door; "the idea--Polly hurt, and we not to +go! Come on, Dave, we can catch the midnight train," looking at his +watch. + +"But if it makes Polly worse," said David doubtfully. + +Joel's hand carrying the hat to his head, wavered, and he finally tossed +the head-gear into the nearest corner. "I suppose you are right, Dave," +he said helplessly, and sinking into a chair. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE FARMHOUSE HOSPITAL. + + +Jack Loughead marched into his uncle's room. "Well--well--well," +exclaimed the old gentleman with a prolonged look, and sitting straight +in his chair. "So this really is you, Jack? I must say, I am surprised." + +"Surprised?" echoed Jack, getting his uncle's hands in both of his. +"Why, Uncle, I cabled Crane Brothers just as soon as I got your letter, +that I was coming." + +"This is the first thing I've heard of it," said old Mr. Loughead. +"Well, how did you track me here, for goodness' sake?" + +"Why, I saw an account of your accident in the New York paper as soon as +I landed," said Jack. + +"Oh! confound those papers," exclaimed his uncle ungratefully. "Well, I +came near being done for, Jack," he added. "In fact, I was left in the +wreck." + +Jack shuddered. + +"But that little girl there," pointing toward the next room, where the +talking seemed to be going on busily, "insisted that I was buried in the +smash-up, so they tell me, and she made them come and look for me. None +too soon, I take it, by all accounts." The old gentleman placidly tore +off two or three grapes from the bunch in the basketful, put at his +elbow, and ate them leisurely. + +"Phronsie is a good child," said Jack Loughead, with feeling, "and an +observing one, too." + +"Phronsie? Who's talking of Phronsie?" cried his uncle, pushing back the +fruit-basket. "It was the other one--Polly; she wouldn't let them give +over till they pulled me out. So the two young men tell me; very +well-meaning chaps, too, they are, Jack." + +"You said it was a little girl," Jack managed to remark. + +"Well, and so she is," said old Mr. Loughead obstinately, "and a nice +little thing, too, I should say." + +"Miss Pepper is twenty years old," said his nephew suddenly. Then he was +sorry he had spoken. + +"Nonsense! not a day over fifteen," contradicted the old gentleman +flatly. "And I must say, Jack, you've been pretty expert, considering +the time spent in this house, in taking the census." + +"Oh! I knew her before," said Jack, angry to find himself stammering +over what ought to be a simple account enough. + +"Hem--hem!" exclaimed the old gentleman, bestowing a keen scrutiny on +his nephew. "Well, never mind," he said at last; "now, let's to +business." + +"Are you strong enough?" asked Jack, in duty bound, yet longing to get +the talk into safe business channels. + +"Strong enough?" repeated the old gentleman, in a dudgeon, "I'm really +better than I was before the shake-up. I'm going home tomorrow, I'd have +you to know, Jack." + +"You would better not move too soon," said his nephew involuntarily. +Then he added hastily, "At least, take the doctor's advice." + +"Hem--hem!" said his uncle again, with a shrewd smile, as he helped +himself to a second bunch of grapes. + +"Well, now, as to that matter you sent me over to London about," began +Jack, nervously plunging into business. + +"Draw up that chair, and put your mind on the matter, and we'll go over +it," interrupted old Mr. Loughead, discarding the grape-bunch suddenly, +and assuming his commercial expression at once. + +So Jack drew up his chair, as bidden; and presently the financial head +of the Bradbury & Graeme Company, and the enterprising young member who +was the principal part of "Company," were apparently lost to all else in +the world, but their own concerns. + +Meantime, Pickering Dodge was having a truly dreadful time of it. + +The doctor, washing his hands of such a troublesome patient, had just +run downstairs, jumped into his little old gig in displeasure, and was +now half across a rut worn in the open meadow, dignified by the name of +the "Short Road." + +"Do go to bed," implored Ben, studying Pickering's pale face. + +"Hoh, hoh!" Pickering made out to exclaim, "if I couldn't say anything +original, I wouldn't talk. You're only an echo to that miserable little +donkey of a medical man." + +[Illustration: "I'll help you; I'm strong," said Charlotte.] + +"But you really ought to go back to bed," Ben insisted. + +"Really ought?" repeated Pickering, in high disdain; "as if I'd put +myself again under that quack's thumb. No, sir!" and snapping his +fingers derisively at Ben, he straightened up jauntily on his somewhat +uncertain feet. "All I want is a little air," stumbling off to the +window. + +"Well, I'm going to tell Phronsie that my arm is all right," said Polly, +hurrying off; "beside I want to see Johnny"-- + +"It's time for me to look after that young man, too," said old Mr. King, +following her; "I haven't heard him roar to-day. Come on, Jasper; you +must see Johnny." + +As they disappeared, Ben ran over to Pickering, and was aghast to find +that the face laid against the window-casing was deathly white, and that +all his shaking of the broad shoulders could not make Pickering open his +eyes. + +"Jasper," called Ben, in despair. + +"Hush!" Some one came hurrying up. "Don't call Jasper; then Polly will +know. Let me help." + +Ben looked up. "O, Charlotte! that's good. Pick's done up. Call Mrs. +Higby, will you? we must get him to bed." + +"I'll help you; I'm strong." Charlotte held out her long arms. + +Ben looked them over approvingly. "You're right," he said; "it's better +not to stir Mrs. Higby up. There, easy now, Charlotte; put your hands +under there. You are sure it won't hurt you?" + +"Sure as I can be," said Charlotte, steadily moving off in pace with +Ben, as they carried Pickering between them. + +"Excuse me!" Ben rushed in without knocking upon the Bradbury & Graeme +Company. "Do you mind"--to Jack--"I'm awfully sorry to ask it, but I +can't leave him. Will you run to the doctor's and fetch him? Mrs. Higby, +the landlady downstairs, you know, will tell you where to find him." Ben +was all out of breath when he got through, and stood looking at young +Loughead. + +"What's the doctor wanted for?" cried Company, springing to his feet, +and seizing his hat from the table. "Why, of course I'll go--delighted +to be of use--who for?" + +"Pickering Dodge--got up too soon--keeled over," said Ben briefly. "I've +got to stay with him--he's in bed--and we don't want Grandpapa or Polly +to know." + +But Jack Loughead after the first word, was half over the stairs. + +"See here," cried old Mr. Loughead suddenly, as Ben was rushing out, +"can't I see your sister? I'm horribly lonesome," turning in his chair; +"that is, if her arm will let her come," he added, as a second thought +struck him. "Don't ask her if you think she's in pain." + +"Doctor has fixed Polly's arm," said Ben, "and I know she'll like to +come in and sit with you. It's a shame," and his honest face flamed with +regret, "I had to ask such a favor as"-- + +"Tut, tut! go along with you," commanded the old gentleman imperatively, +"and send Polly here; then I'll make by the operation," and he began to +chuckle with pleasure. + +So Ben ran off, and presently Polly, her arm in a sling, came hurrying +in. + +"Bless my soul," cried the old gentleman, "if your cheeks aren't as rosy +as if you had two good arms, and this was an every-day sort of excursion +for pleasure." + +[Illustration: "SO NICE, EVERYBODY IS GETTING ON SO WELL," SAID POLLY] + +"It's so nice," said Polly, sitting down on one of Mrs. Higby's +spare-room ottomans, on which that lady had worked a remarkable cat in +blue worsted reposing on a bit of green sward, "to think that everybody +is getting on so well," and she hugged her lame arm rapturously. + +"Hem--hem! I should say so," breathed old Mr. Loughead, regarding her +closely. "Where have they buried that woman?" he demanded suddenly. + +Polly started. "Out in the meadow," she said softly. "Mrs. Higby wanted +it here instead of in the churchyard. It is under a beautiful oak-tree, +Mr. Loughead, and Mr. Higby is going to make a fence around it, and +Grandpapa is to put"-- + +"Up the stone, I suppose you mean," interrupted the old gentleman. +"Well, and when that's done, why, what can be said upon it, pray tell? +You don't know a thing about it--who in Christendom the woman was--not a +thing." + +"Johnny's mother," said Polly sorrowfully, the corners of her mouth +drooping; "that's going to be on it, and Grandpapa is to have the +letters cut, telling about the accident; and Mrs. Higby hopes that +sometime somebody will come to inquire about it. But I don't believe +anybody ever will come in all this world," added Polly softly, "because +there is no one left who belongs to Johnny," and she told the story the +pale little mother had just finished when the car went over. + +Old Mr. Loughead "hemmed," and exclaimed impatiently, and fidgeted in +his chair, all through the recital. When it was over, and Polly sat +quite still, "What are you going to do with that horrible boy?" he asked +sharply. "Almshouse, I suppose, eh?" + +"O, no!" declared Polly, in horror. "Phronsie is going to take him into +the Home." + +"Phronsie is going to take that little rat into her home?" cried old Mr. +Loughead in disgust. "You don't know what you are talking of. I shall +speak to Mr. King." + +"Johnny is just a dear," cried Polly, having great difficulty not to +spring from her chair, and turn her back on the old gentleman, then and +there. + +"But into your home," repeated old Mr. Loughead, his disgust gaining on +him with each word; "it's monstrous--it's"-- + +"Oh! I didn't mean our home," explained Polly, obliged to interrupt him, +he was becoming so furious. "Johnny is going down to Dunraven, to the +Children's Home," and then she began on the story of Phronsie's company +of children, and how they lived, and who they were, with many little +side stories of this small creature, who was "too cunning for anything," +and that funny little boy, till the old gentleman sat helplessly +listening in abject silence. And the latch was lifted, and young Mr. +Loughead put his head in the doorway, looking as if he had finished a +long tramp. + +"Come in, Jack," said his uncle, finding his tongue. "We've a whole +orphan asylum in here, and I don't know what all; every charity you ever +heard of, rolled into one. Do come in, and see if you can make head or +tail to it." + +"Oh! Mr. Loughead knows all about it," cried Polly brightly, while her +cheeks glowed, "for he went down to Dunraven with us at Christmas, and +he showed the children stereopticon pictures, and told them such nice +stories of places that he had seen." + +"He--my Jack!" exploded the old gentleman, starting forward and pointing +to his nephew. "Great Caesar! he never did such a thing in his life." + +"Ah!" said Polly, shaking her brown head, while she looked only at the +old gentleman, "you ought to have seen, sir, how happy the children were +that day." + +"My Jack went to an orphan asylum to show pictures to the children!" +reiterated the old gentleman, unable to grasp another idea. + +"Do be still, Uncle," begged his tall nephew, jogging his elbow. + +"Here--here's Polly!" cried Jasper's voice. And at the same moment in +sped little Dr. Fisher, his glasses shining with determination, as he +gazed all over the room for Polly. + +"My dear, dear child," he cried, as he spied her. + +And "Papa Fisher!" joyfully from Polly, as she sprang from Mrs. Higby's +ottoman, and precipitated herself into the little doctor's arms. + +"Softly, softly, child," he warned; "you'll hurt it," tenderly covering +the poor arm with his right hand, while he fumbled in his pocket with +the other, for his handkerchief. "Dear me!" and he blew his nose +violently. "Yes; well, you're sure you're all right except this?" and he +held Polly at arm's length and scanned her closely. + +"I am all right if you will only tell me that Mamsie is well, and isn't +worried about us," said Polly, an anxious little pucker coming on her +forehead. + +"Your mother is as bright as a button," declared Father Fisher +emphatically. + +"Come, come!" ejaculated Mr. King, appearing in the doorway; "this isn't +just the way to take possession of Mr. Loughead's apartment. Jasper, I +don't see what you were thinking of. Come, Fisher, my room is next; this +way." + +Polly blushed red as a rose as old Mr. Loughead said briskly, "Oh! I +sent for her to cheer me up, and now, I wish you'd all stay." + +"Beg pardon for this inroad," said little Doctor Fisher, going up to the +old gentleman's chair and offering his hand. "Well, well, Loughead," to +Jack, "this is a surprise party all round!" + +"No inroad at all, at least a pleasant one," old Mr. Loughead kept +saying, while Polly ran up to Jasper: + +"Did Pickering's uncle come with Papa Fisher?" + +"No," said Jasper, with his eyes on Jack Loughead, "the Doctor was all +alone, Polly." + +And then the door of Pickering's room opened, and out came Dr. Bryce, +with bad news written all over his face. + +"I fear brain fever," he said to Dr. Fisher after the introduction was +over, making the two physicians acquainted. "Come," and the door of +Pickering's room closed on them both. + +And twilight settled down on the old square white house, and on the +new-made grave under the oak in the meadow; and Brierly people, by twos +and threes, came to inquire for "the sick young man," going away with +saddened faces. And a messenger from the telegraph office drove up just +as Mr. Higby was pulling on the boots to his tired feet for a long walk +to the village, handing in the message: + +Mrs. Cabot and I will take the midnight train. +RICHARD A. CABOT, + +[Illustration: THEN PHRONSIE GLANCED BACK AGAIN, AND SOFTLY JOGGED THE +CRADLE.] + +And then there was nothing more to do, only to wait for the coming of +Pickering's uncle and aunt. + +And the next day Pickering's calls were incessant for "Polly, Polly," +sometimes upbraiding her as the brown eyes were fastened piteously on +his wild face; and then begging her to just smile at him and remember +how he had loved her all these years. "And now I am going to die," he +would cry. + +"O, Polly! Polly!" Mrs. Cabot would wring her hands and beg at such +times, a world of entreaty in her voice. And then old Mr. King would +interfere, carrying Polly off, and declaring it was beyond all reason +for her to be so annoyed. + +And Phronsie would climb up on the bed and lay her cool little hand +gently on the hot forehead. Then the sick boy's cries would drop into +unintelligible murmurs, while his fingers picked aimlessly at the +coverlet. + +"There! he is better," Phronsie would say softly to the watchers by the +bed, "and I guess he is going to sleep." + +But the quiet only ushered in worse ravings when Pickering lived over +once more the horror of the train-wrecking, and then it took many strong +arms to hold him in his bed. "Come on, Ben," he would shout, struggling +hard; "leave him alone--we shall be caught--the fire! the fire!" until +his strength died away, and he sank to a deathly stupor. + + * * * * * + +Phronsie sat down to write a letter to Mrs. Fargo. One like it was +dropped every morning into the basket set on Mrs. Higby's front entry +table, ready for the neighbor's boy to take to the village post-office. + +DEAR MRS. FARGO: + +[wrote Phronsie, looking off from the wooden cradle that Mrs. Higby had +dragged down from its cobwebby corner under the garret eaves, with the +remark, "I guess Johnny'll sleep well; all the Higbys since the first +one, has been rocked in it."] I must tell you that dear Pickering isn't +any better. [Then she glanced back again, and softly jogged the cradle, +as Johnny turned over with a long sigh.] And Papa Fisher and the other +doctor don't think he is going to get well. And Mrs. Cabot cries all the +time, and Polly cries sometimes too. And we don't know what to do. But I +guess God will take care of us. And Charlotte is going to take Johnny +down to the Dunraven Home in a day or two. She says she can, though I +know she don't like babies, especially boy-babies; she said so once. And +so he will be happy. And that's all I can write to-day, Mrs. Fargo, +because every minute I'm afraid Polly will want me. + +FROM PHRONSIE + +And just the very minute when Phronsie was dotting the "i" in her name. +Mrs. Higby came toiling up the stairs, holding her gingham gown well +away from her feet. + +"Say!" she cried in a loud whisper, and pausing midway to wave a large +square envelope at Phronsie, curled up on the hall window-seat. + +Phronsie got down very softly, and tiptoed over to the stair-railing to +grasp the letter Mrs. Higby thrust between the bars, going back to her +old post, to open it carefully. + +DEAR PHRONSIE: + +I think God meant that I was to have Johnny for my very own. So won't +you give him to me, dear? Let Charlotte bring him soon, please, for my +heart is hungry for a baby to hold. I will make him happy all my life, +Phronsie, so I know you will give him to + +HELEN'S MOTHER. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +ON THE BORDERLAND. + + +Phronsie came into the Higby kitchen, her hands full of wind-blossoms +and nodding trilliums. + +"Pickering will like these," she said to herself in great satisfaction, +and surveying her torn frock with composure, "for they are the very +first, Mrs. Higby," addressing that individual standing over by the sink +in the corner. "Please may I wash my hands? I had to go clear far down +by the brook to get them." + +But Mrs. Higby, instead of answering, threw her brown-checked apron high +over her head. + +Phronsie stood quite still. + +"Why do you put your apron there, Mrs. Higby?" she asked at last. "And +you do not answer me at all," she added in gentle reproach. + +"Land!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, in a voice spent with feeling, "I +couldn't, 'cause I was afraid I sh'd burst out crying, and I didn't want +you to see my face. O, dear! he's had a poor spell since you went out +flowerin' for him, and your pa and Dr. Bryce say he's dyin'. O, dear!" + +Down came the apron, showing Mrs. Higby's eyelids very red and swollen. + +Phronsie still stood holding her flowers, a breathing-space, then turned +and went quickly to the back stairs. + +"Sh! don't go," called Mrs. Higby in a loud whisper after her; "it's +dreadful for a little girl like you to see any one die. Do come back." + +"They will want me," said Phronsie gravely, and going up carefully +without another word. When she reached Pickering's door, she paused a +moment and looked in. + +"I don't believe it is as Mrs. Higby said," she thought, drawing a long +breath, a faint smile coming to her face as she went gently in. + +But old Mr. King put up his hand as he turned in his chair, at the foot +of the bed, and Phronsie saw that his face was white and drawn. And Dr. +Bryce turned also, looking off a minute from the watch that he held, as +if he were going to bid her go away. + +[Illustration: "WHY DO YOU PUT YOUR APRON UP THERE?" ASKED PHRONSIE IN +GENTLE REPROACH. ] + +"Phronsie," said Grandpapa, holding out both arms hungrily. + +Phronsie hurried to him, a gathering fear at her heart, and getting into +his lap, laid her cheek against his. + +"Oh! my dear, you oughtn't to be here--you are too young," said Mr. King +brokenly, yet holding her close. + +"I am not afraid, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, her mouth to his ear, "and +I think Pickering would like me to be here. I brought him some flowers." +She moved the hand holding the bunch, so that the old gentleman could +see it. "He likes wild flowers, and I promised to get the first ones I +could." + +"O, dear!" groaned old Mr. King, not trusting himself to look. + +"May I lay them down by him?" whispered Phronsie. + +"Yes, yes, child," said the old gentleman, allowing her to slip to the +floor. The group around the bedside parted to let her pass, and then +Phronsie saw Polly. Mrs. Cabot was holding Polly's well hand, while her +head was on Polly's shoulder. + +"Grandpapa said I might," said Phronsie softly to the two, and pointing +to her flowers. + +"Yes, dear." + +It was Polly who answered; Mrs. Cabot was crying so hard she could not +speak a word. + +Phronsie's little heart seemed to stop beating as she reached the +bedside. She had not thought that she would be afraid, but it was so +different to be standing there looking down upon the pillow where +Pickering lay so still and white, and with closed eyes, looking as if he +had already gone away from them. She glanced up in a startled way and +saw Dr. Fisher at the head of the bed; he was holding Pickering's wrist. +"Yes," he motioned, "put them down." + +So Phronsie laid down her blossoms near the poor white face, and stole +back quickly, only breathing freely when she was as close to Polly as +she could creep, without hurting the broken arm. + +"I'm dying--I'm not afraid," suddenly said Pickering's white lips. Dr. +Fisher sprang and put a spoonful of stimulant to them, while Mrs. Cabot +buried her face yet deeper on Polly's shoulder, her husband turning on +his heel, to pace the floor and groan. "Polly, Polly!" called Pickering +quite distinctly, in a tone of anguish. + +"O, Polly, Polly! he's dying--go to him do!" Mrs. Cabot tore her hand +out of Polly's, almost pushing her from the chair. "Quick, dear!" + +Polly put Phronsie aside, and stepped softly to the bedside; Pickering's +eyes eagerly watched for her face. + +He smiled up at her, "Polly," and tried to raise his hand. + +She laid her warm, soft palm on the cold one lying on the coverlid. He +clasped his thin fingers convulsively around it. + +"I am here, Pickering," said Polly, unable to find voice for anything +else. + +"Don't--ever--leave me," she could just make out the words, bending +close to catch them. + +"I never will," said Polly quietly. + +A sudden gleam came into his face, and he tried to smile, grasping her +hand tighter as his eyes closed. + +"It has come," said Dr. Fisher in a low voice to Mr. Cabot; "tell your +wife," and he bent a professional ear over the white face on the pillow, +while Dr. Bryce hurried forward; then brought his head up quickly, a +peculiar light in the sharp eyes back of the spectacles. "He is +sleeping!" + + * * * * * + +Polly was sitting, a half-hour by the bedside, Pickering's thin fingers +still tightly grasping her hand. They had made her comfortable in an +easy chair, Jasper bringing one of Mrs. Higby's biggest cushions for her +to lean her head against. He now stood at the side of her chair, +Phronsie curled up on the floor at her feet. + +"Don't stay." Polly's lips seemed to frame the words rather than speak +them, looking up at him. + +He shook his head, resting his hand on the back of the chair. Polly +tried to smile up a bit of comfort into his eyes. "Jasper loved +Pickering so," she said to herself, "that he cannot leave him; but oh! +he looks so dreadfully, I wish he would go and rest," and she began to +have a worried look at once. + +"What is it?" asked Jasper, catching the look at once, and bending to +whisper in her ear. + +"You will be sick if you do not go and rest," whispered back Polly. + +"I cannot--don't ask it." Jasper brought the words out sharply, with +just a bitter tone to them. + +"He thinks it is strange that I ask it; he is so fond of Pickering," +said Polly to herself. "And now I have grieved him--O, dear!" + +"I won't leave Pickering," she said, lifting her brown eyes quickly. + +A spasm came over Jasper's face, and his brow contracted. + +"Don't," he begged, and Polly could feel that the hand resting on the +back of the chair grasped it so tightly that it shook beneath her. + +"I ought to have remembered that Jasper couldn't leave him; he loves him +so," mourned Polly. "Oh! why did I speak?" + +In the room at the end of the hall Mrs. Cabot was excitedly walking the +floor, twisting her handkerchief between her nervous fingers, and +talking unrestrainedly to Charlotte Chatterton. + +"I do believe this will melt Polly's heart," she cried. "Oh! it must, it +must! Don't you think it must, Miss Chatterton?" + +"I don't know what you mean," said Charlotte Chatterton in a collected +manner, as she bent over the cradle to tuck the shawl over Johnny's legs +where he had kicked it off in his sleep. + +"Oh! you know quite well what I mean, Miss Chatterton," declared Mrs. +Cabot, in her distress losing her habitually polite manner. "Why, +everybody knows that Pickering has loved Polly since they were boy and +girl together." + +Not knowing what was expected of her, Charlotte Chatterton wisely kept +silent. + +"And now, why, it's just a Providence, I do believe--that is, if he gets +well--that brought all this about, for of course Polly must be touched +by it. She must!" brought up Mrs. Cabot quite jubilantly. + +And this time she waited for Charlotte to speak, at last exclaiming, +"Don't you see it must be so?" + +"I think love goes where it is sent," said Charlotte slowly. + +"Sent? Well, that is just it. Isn't it sent here?" cried Mrs. Cabot +impatiently. + +"I don't know," said Charlotte. Then she said distinctly, "I know love +is very different from pity"-- + +"Of course it is--but then, sometimes it isn't," said Mrs. Cabot +nervously. "Well, any way, Polly has almost as good as promised to marry +Pickering," she finished triumphantly--"so--and you are very cruel to +talk to me in this way, Miss Chatterton." + +Charlotte Chatterton turned away from Johnny and faced Mrs. Cabot. "You +don't mean to say you think Polly would feel bound by what she said when +we all thought he was dying?" + +"I do, certainly--knowing Polly as I do--if Pickering took it so. And I +am quite sure he will say so when he gets well; quite sure. Polly isn't +a girl to break her word," added Mrs. Cabot confidently. + +"Then I'm sure Providence hasn't had anything to do with this," said +Charlotte shortly, "and Polly shall never be tormented into thinking it +her duty either," and she turned off to pick up a new gown "in the +works" for Johnny. + +"What you think duty, Miss Chatterton, wouldn't be Polly Pepper's idea +of duty in the least," said Mrs. Cabot, getting back into the refuge of +her society manner again, now that her confidence in Polly grew every +moment, "so we will talk no more about it if you please," she added +icily, as she went toward the door. "Only mark my words, my dear boy and +that dear girl will be engaged, and quite the appropriate match it will +be too, and please every one." + + * * * * * + +"You must go back, my boy," said old Mr. King two days later. "It's just +knocking you up to stay," studying Jasper's face keenly. "Goodness me! I +should think you'd fallen off a dozen pounds. Upon my word I should, my +boy," he repeated with great concern. + +"Never mind me, father," said Jasper a trifle impatiently, "and as to my +work, Mr. Marlowe will give me a few more days. He's goodness itself. I +shall telegraph him this morning for an extension." + +"You will do nothing of the kind," declared Mr. King testily. "What can +you do here, pray tell, by staying? You would be quite a muff in a few +more days, Jasper," he added, "you are so down-hearted now. No, I insist +that you go now." + +"Very well," said Jasper quite stiffly, "I will take myself off by the +afternoon train, then, father, since I am in the way." + +"How you talk, Jasper!" cried his father in astonishment. "You know +quite well that I am only thinking of your own good. What's got into +you--but I suppose this confounded hospital we're in, has made you lose +your head." + +"Thank you, father," said Jasper, recovering himself by a great effort, +"for putting it so, and I beg you to forgive me for my hasty words." He +came up to the old gentleman and put out his hand quickly, "Do forgive +me, father." + +"Forgive you? Of course I will, though I don't know when you've spoken +to me like that, Jasper," said his father, not yet able to shake himself +free from his bewilderment. "Well, well, that's enough to say about +that," seeing Jasper's face, "and now get back to your work, my boy, as +soon as you can, and you'll thank me for sending you off. And as soon as +Pickering Dodge is able to be moved home, why, the rest of us will +finish our trip, and give you that surprise party--eh, Jasper?" and Mr. +King tried to laugh in the old way, but it was pretty hard work. + + * * * * * + +"Well, now, Polly," said Dr. Fisher, a week after as he held her at +arm's length, and brought his spectacles to bear upon her face, +"remember what I say, child; you are to take care of yourself, and let +Mrs. Cabot look out for things. It will do the woman good to have +something to do," he added, dropping his voice. "I don't like to carry +home your face, child; it won't do; you're getting tired out, and your +mother will be sure to find it out. I really ought to stay and take care +of you," and the little doctor began to look troubled at once. + +"Indeed, Papa Fisher," cried Polly, brightening up, "you will do nothing +of the kind. Why, my arm is doing famously. You know you said you never +saw a broken arm behave so well in all your life." + +"It isn't your arm, Polly, that worries me," said Father Fisher; "that's +first-rate, and I shouldn't wonder if it turned out better perhaps for +breaking, but it's something different, and it quite puzzles me; you +look so down-hearted, child." + +"Do I?" said Polly, standing quite straight, and rubbing her forehead +with her well hand; "there, now, I will get the puckers and wrinkles +out. There, Papa Fisher, are they all gone?" She smiled as cheerily as +ever, but the little man shook his head, then took off his spectacles, +wiped them, and set them back on his nose. + +"No; it won't do; you can't make your old father believe but what you've +something on your mind, Polly. I think I shall have to send your mother +down here," he said suddenly. + +"O, Father Fisher!" cried Polly, the color flying over her face, "you +wouldn't ever do that, I am sure! Why, it would worry Mamsie so, and +besides she can't leave King Fisher"-- + +He interrupted her as she clung to his arm. "I know that, but what can I +do? If you'd only promise now, Polly," he added artfully, "that you +won't tire yourself all out trying to suit Mrs. Cabot's whims--why, I'd +think about taking back what I said about sending your mother down." + +"Oh! I won't--I won't," promised Polly gladly. "And now, dear Papa +Fisher, you'll take it all back, won't you?" she begged. + +"Yes," said Dr. Fisher, glad to see Polly's color back again, and to +have her beg him for some favor. So the next half-hour or so they were +very cheery--just like old times; just as if there had been no sickness +and the shadow of a loss upon them in the past days. + +"Though why we should be always acting as if we were in the midst of it +now, I don't see," said the little doctor at last. "We're all +straightened out, thank God, and Pickering mending so fast that he's a +perfect marvel. It would be a sin and a shame for us to be in the dumps +forever. Well, now, Polly, remember. Whew! hear that youngster!" This +last being brought out by Johnny's lusty shouts in the next room. "I +don't envy Mrs. Fargo her bargain, and I do pity myself having to see +him safely there." + +"Oh! Charlotte will take all the care of him," said Polly quickly. +"She's just beautiful with him; you don't know how beautiful, Papa +Fisher, because you've been so busy, since you've been here, and +Charlotte has kept him away from everybody so he needn't worry any one. +And isn't it lovely that he is to have such a beautiful home?" added +Polly with shining eyes. + +"Um--yes, for Johnny," said Dr. Fisher. "Well, good-by, Polly." He +gathered her up in his arms for a final kiss. "Oh! here's Charlotte come +to bid you good-by, too." + +"Polly," said Charlotte, drawing her off to a quiet corner, as the +little doctor went away, leaving the two girls together, "I must say +something, and I don't know how to say it." + +Polly looked at her with wide eyes. + +"It's just this," said Charlotte, plunging on desperately; "Polly, don't +let Mrs. Cabot pick at you and talk about duty. Oh! I hate to hear her +speak the word," exploded Charlotte, with a volume of wrath in her tone. + +"What do you mean, Charlotte?" cried Polly in a puzzled way. + +"Oh! she may--never mind how--she's quite peculiar, you know," said +Charlotte, finding her way less clear with each word. "Never mind, +Polly; only just fight her if she begins on what is your duty; if she +does, then fight her tooth and nail." + +"But it may be something that I really ought to do," said Polly. + +Charlotte turned on her in horror. "O, never!" she cried. "Don't you do +it, Polly Pepper. Just as sure as she says you ought to do it, you may +know it would be the worst thing in all the world. Promise me, Polly, +that you won't do it." + +"But, Charlotte, I ought not to promise until I am quite sure that it +wouldn't be my duty to do what Mrs. Cabot advises. Don't you see, +Charlotte, that I ought not to promise?" + +But Charlotte was too far gone in anxiety to see anything, and she could +only reiterate, "Do promise, Polly, do; there's Mr. Higby calling us; +the carriage is at the door. Do, Polly! I never will ask you anything +else if you'll only promise me this." + +But Polly could only shake her head, and say, "I ought not," and then +Johnny had to be kissed and wrenched from Phronsie, who insisted on +carrying him downstairs to set him in the carriage, and Mrs. Cabot came +in, and old Mr. King wanted a last word with Charlotte, so that at last +she was in Mr. Higby's carryall, shut in on the back seat looking out +over Johnny's head, with a pair of very hopeless eyes. But her lips +said, "Do, Polly!" + +And still Polly, on the flat door-stone, had to shake her head. + +"I shall tell Mrs. Fisher, and beg her to come right down here," +determined Charlotte Chatterton to herself, "just as soon as I get in +the house. That is exactly what I shall do," she declared savagely, as +Mr. Higby whipped up the mare for the quarter-mile drive to the little +station. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +JASPER. + + +"Halloo, King, Mr. Marlowe wants you." Jasper, his hands full of papers, +hurried down the long warehouse, through the piles of books, fresh from +the bindery, stacked closely to the ceiling. The busy packers who were +filling the boxes, looked up as he threaded his way between them. "Mr. +Marlowe is down there," indicating the direction with a nod, while the +hands kept mechanically at their task. + +"I want to see you about that last lot of paper," Mr. Marlowe began, +before Jasper had reached him; "it is thin and of poorer quality than I +ordered. The loss must be charged back to Withers & Co." + +"Is that so?" exclaimed Jasper. "They assured me that everything should +be right, and like the sample that we ordered it from." + +"And Jacob Bendel writes that the edition we gave him of _History of +Great Cities_ to print will be shipped to us within a fortnight, when +his contract was to be filled on Thursday. Of course we lose all the +Chicago orders by this delay." + +"What's the reason?" asked Jasper, feeling all the thrill of the +disappointment as keenly as if he were the head of the house. + +"Oh! a strike among the printers; his best men have gone out, and he's +at the mercy of a lot of inferior workmen who are being intimidated by +the strikers; but he thinks he can get the edition to us in ten days or +so." + +Mr. Marlowe leaned against an empty packing case and viewed the +assistant foreman of the manufacturing department calmly, with the air +of a man to whom disappointments were in the usual order of things. + +"Can't we give it to another printer?" asked Jasper. + +"Who?" + +"Morse Brothers?" + +"They are full and running over with work. I inquired there yesterday; +we may want a little extra done as the rush over those Primary Readers +is coming on. No, I can't think of a place where we could crowd it in, +if we took it away from Bendel." + +Jasper's gaze thoughtfully followed the drift of a shaving blown by the +draft along the warehouse floor. + +"I think I'll send you down to New York to see Bendel, and find out how +things are. I don't get any satisfaction from letters," said Mr. Marlowe +in a minute. "Beside you can attend to some other matters; and then +there is that Troy job; you can do that." + +"Very well, sir." + +"Can you take the night express?" Mr. Marlowe pulled out his watch. It +was ten minutes of three. + +"Can I leave the Ransom bills I was checking off? Mr. Parker said they +were the most important of the lot." + +"Parker must give them to Richard; he knows pretty well how to do them, +unless he can find time for them himself." + +"I was to be at the Green printing-office at nine to-morrow morning," +said Jasper. + +"What for?" + +"They sent down to Mr. Parker yesterday that we had made a mistake about +price for doing those five hundred _Past and Present_; and wanted +him to go to their office, and see Mr. Green himself." + +"If Mr. Green thinks any mistake has been made, let him come to us," +said Mr. Marlowe coolly. "You tell Parker to send a note to that effect; +courteously written, of course, but to the point. We don't go running +around after people who think mistakes are made. Let them bring their +grievances here, if they have any. Is that all that detains you?" + +Jasper held out his hand full of papers. "These were to come in between +when they could, sir." + +"Hem--hem"--Mr. Marlowe read them over with a practiced eye; rolled them +up, and handed the roll to Jasper. "Tell Parker to set Danforth on +those. Anything more?" + +"I was to go to-morrow if there was time to get prices for best +calendered paper of Patterson & Co. and Withers; but the next day will +do." + +"Parker must attend to all that," said Mr. Marlowe decidedly. + +"Very well, sir. I believe that is all that hurries particularly." + +"Come this way; I'll give you instructions what to say to Bendel," and +Mr. Marlowe led the way out to a quiet corner of the warehouse, where he +sat down by a desk, and rapidly laid the points of the business before +his assistant. + +The next morning in New York, Jasper ran across Mr. Whitney on Broadway. + +"Well said; that you, Jasper? Why aren't you up at the house?" + +"I came on the night express," said Jasper, finding it hard to wait a +minute, "on a matter of importance for Mr. Marlowe. Sorry, Brother +Mason, but I can't stop now." + +"You'll be up to-night, of course," said Mason Whitney. + +"I can't; I'm off for Troy," said Jasper concisely, "and I don't come +back this way." + +"Goodness! what a man your Marlowe is. And your sister Marian wants to +hear about Polly and all the others; you've seen them so lately." + +"It's impossible," began Jasper; "you see I can't help it, Brother +Mason; Mr. Marlowe's orders must be carried out." + +"He's a beast, your Marlowe is," declared Mr. Whitney hotly. "I don't +know what Marian will say when I tell her you are here in New York and +won't stop for even a word with her." + +"Sister Marian will say it's all right," said Jasper, a trifle +impatiently, and feeling the loss of every moment a thing to be atoned +for. "Mr. Marlowe is loaded up with trouble of all kinds. Now I must +go." + +"Hold on a minute," cried Mason Whitney. "Well, how are you getting on? +Seems to me the publishing business doesn't agree with you. You look +peaked enough," scanning Jasper's face closely. + +"I'm well enough," said Jasper abruptly. "Tell sister Marian I will +write her very soon," pulling out his watch; "good-by," and he was lost +in the crowd surging down Broadway. Mr. Whitney standing still a moment +to look after him, turned, and went directly to his office. + +"That call on Hendryx & Co. can wait," he muttered to himself on the +way, "but Jasper can't. The boy looks badly, and his father ought to +know it; although it seems funny enough for me to be meddling with +Jasper's affairs. But I won't leave anything to worry about afterward; +they can't say I ought to have told them." + +So a letter went out by next mail from Mr. Whitney's office, saying that +Jasper looked poorly enough when he was met in New York; that he seemed +incapable of breathing any other air than that saturated with business; +that he had evidently mistaken his vocation when he chose to be a +publisher. "Beside, there isn't any money now in the publishing +business," added Mr. Whitney as a clincher; "there are too many of the +fellows cutting each other's throats to make it pay; and books are +slaughtered right and left, and Jasper much better get into some other +business, in my opinion." + +Meanwhile Jasper finished, to the letter, the instructions for Jacob +Bendel, did up the other matters entrusted to him, and set out on his +Troy expedition. Here he was detained a day or two, Mr. Marlowe's +instructions being to wait over and telegraph if the business could not +be adjusted satisfactorily. But the fourth day after leaving home, +Jasper, just from the night express, mounted the stairs to his hotel in +the early morning, his bag in his hand, and the expression on his face +of a man who has accomplished what he set out to do. + +"There's an old gent up in your room," announced Buttons, tumbling off, +a sleepy heap, from one of the office chairs, to look at him. + +"An old gentleman in my room," repeated Jasper, turning on the stairs. +"Why was any person put in my room?" + +"We didn't put the person there," said the boy, yawning fearfully, "he +put himself there. He's a tiger, he is, and he blows me up reg'lar +'cause you ain't home," he added. + +Jasper scaled the rest of the stairs, and tried the knob of his door +with no gentle hand. Then he rapped loudly. "Open the door--this is my +room." + +"Oh! I'm coming," said a voice he knew quite well, and presently old Mr. +King stood before him, his velvet cap and morning jacket both awry from +impatient fingers. + +[Illustration: "AN OLD GENTLEMAN IN MY ROOM," REPEATED JASPER, TURNING +ON THE STAIRS.] + +"Father!" ejaculated Jasper. And "Goodness me, Jasper!" from the old +gentleman, "what an unearthly hour to come home in." + +Jasper hurried in, set his bag in the corner, then turned and looked at +his father anxiously. Meanwhile old Mr. King was studying his son's +countenance with no small degree of alarm. + +"What is it," cried Jasper at last, coming close to him, "that has +brought you?" + +"What?--why, you." + +"Me?" cried Jasper, in amazement. + +"Yes; dear me, Jasper, with all the worries I have had lately, it does +seem a pity that you couldn't take care of yourself. It really does," +repeated Mr. King, his feelings nowise soothed by picking up his watch +and finding it half-past six o'clock. When he made sure of the time, he +set down the watch quickly, and stared at Jasper worse than ever. + +"Now, father," said Jasper, "there's a mistake somewhere, but never mind +now; you must get back to bed again. I don't know when you've been up at +this hour." He tried to laugh, while he laid his hand on the old +gentleman's arm. "Do get back to bed, father." + +"It certainly is a most outrageous hour in which to arise," remarked his +father, not able to suppress a yawn, "and I don't mind if I do turn +in--but where will you sleep, Jasper?" whirling around on his son. "I've +come to look after you, and I shouldn't begin very well to monopolize +your bed," with a short laugh. + +"Oh, I'll camp out on the lounge," said Jasper carelessly; "in two +minutes I could be asleep there or anywhere else. Don't mind me, +father." + +"If you say so, then I will," said the old gentleman, "and you are too +tired to talk before you've had a nap." So he lay down on the bed, +Jasper dutifully tucking him up, and presently his regular breathing +told that he had picked up the threads of his broken slumber. + +Jasper threw himself on the lounge, but unable to close his eyes, his +gaze fell on a sheet of paper, lying on the floor just within reach. It +was impossible to avoid reading the words: "And Jasper better get into +some other business, in my opinion," and signed "Mason Whitney." + +Jasper jumped to his feet and strode up and down the room in growing +indignation; then seized his hat and darted out to cool himself off +before his father should awake. When he returned, old Mr. King was +half-dressed, and berating Buttons for his failure to have the morning +paper at the door. + +"Now for breakfast," cried Jasper, his own toilet quickly made, "then I +presume you want to see me in my business surroundings, father?" as they +went down the stairs together. + +"I most certainly do," said the old gentleman decidedly; and they turned +into the breakfast room. + +So after a meal in which Jasper, by skillful management of all +conversational topics, allowed no chance word of business to intrude, +old Mr. King and he started for the publishing house of D. Marlowe & +Co., Jasper filling up all gaps that might suggest time for certain +questions that seemed to be trembling on the tip of Mr. King's tongue, +while that gentleman was making a running commentary to himself +something in this wise: "Just like Mason; send me off here when there is +not the slightest need of it. The boy is well enough; quite well +enough," he added, in his energy speaking the last words aloud. + +"What is it, father?" Jasper paused in the midst of a descriptive fire +concerning the new buildings going up on either hand, with many side +stories of the men who were erecting them; and he paused for an answer. + +"Nothing--nothing of importance," said his father hastily. "I only +observed that you appeared to be doing quite well; and as if the +business agreed with you," he added involuntarily. + +"I should think it did, father," cried Jasper enthusiastically, while +his cheek glowed; "it's the grandest work a man can do, in my opinion." + +"Hem, hem! well, we shall see," observed Mr. King drily, determined not +to yield too easily. "You've been at it only six months. You know the +old adage, Jasper: 'You must summer and winter' a thing before you +decide." + +Jasper drew a long breath. "I shall never be anything but a publisher, +father," he said quietly. + +"Hoity, toity! well, that is for me to decide, I take it," responded his +father. "You've never disobeyed me yet, Jasper, and I don't believe you +ever will. And if I think it's best for you to change your business, of +course you'll do it." + +Jasper's brow darkened, and he closed his lips tightly for a moment. +Then something Polly said once when his father was in a particularly +determined mood, came to his mind: "You better make him happy, Jasper, +any way." That "any way" carried the day now. + +"It shall be as you wish, father," he said, the frown disappearing; "I +want you to be pleased, any way," unconsciously using Polly's word. + +"I don't know as I should be at all pleased to have you leave the +publishing business, Jasper," said old Mr. King, veering around quickly. +"I can't tell till I've seen just how it suits you. But I am going to +the root of the matter, now that I am here. Oh! is this the place?" as +they came up against a large window, behind whose plate glass, rows and +rows of books in all styles of bindings, met the view of the passer-by. + +"This is it," said Jasper, with a thrill that he was part of the "it," +and the satisfaction in his completed commission, that had been lost by +his father's words, now bounded high again. "Now then, father, you must +meet Mr. Marlowe," turning up the steps. + +Old Mr. King walked down the store-length as if he owned the whole with +several others of its kind thrown in, and on Jasper's pausing before a +small office-door, marked "private," heard him say through its open +window, "Good-morning, Mr. Marlowe." + +"Ah, good-morning," came back quickly, and Mr. King saw a pleasant-faced +gentleman of middle age, whose keen gray eyes seemed to note everything +with lightning-like rapidity--"business all right?" + +"Yes, sir," said Jasper. + +"Very well; you may come to me in a quarter of an hour and report. I +shall be through with these gentlemen," indicating one sitting by his +side at the desk, and another awaiting his turn. + +"Tell him that I am here, Jasper," said Mr. King pompously, with an +admonitory touch upon Jasper's arm. + +"It's impossible, father; he can't see you now," said Jasper hurriedly, +trying to draw his father off to a quieter corner. + +"Impossible? Can't see me? What is there to prevent, pray tell?" cried +the old gentleman irately. + +[Illustration: "GOOD MORNING," SAID MR. MARLOWE QUICKLY. "BUSINESS ALL +RIGHT?"] + +"He has business men with him; they'll be through in a quarter of an +hour," Jasper brought out in distress that was by no means lightened by +the knowledge that half of the clerks through the long salesroom were +becoming acquainted with the conversation. + +"It's atrocious. I never was kept waiting in my life," fumed Mr. King. +"He doesn't know I am here--I will announce myself." + +He started forward. + +"Father," cried Jasper, darting after him, "let me get you a chair over +here by the table and some books to look at." + +"I want no books," said the old gentleman, now thoroughly determined, by +this time looking in the open window of the private office. +"Good-morning, sir," stiffly to the middle-aged gentleman sitting before +the desk. + +This gentleman looked up, nodded carelessly and said, "Excuse me, but I +am at present engaged." + +"I am Mr. Jasper King's father," announced the old gentleman with +extreme dignity; and again the look of being able to buy out this and +several other such establishments, spread over his face. + +"I shall be very glad to see you, sir," said the middle-aged man +imperturbably, "in a quarter of an hour. Excuse me," and he turned back +to finish his sentence to the other business man. + +"Jasper," cried Mr. King, taking short, quick steps to where Jasper +stood, "give me a sheet of paper so that I may write to this fellow, and +take you out of his contemptible trade--or stay, I will write from the +hotel," and he started for the door. + +"Father," exclaimed Jasper in a low tone, but so distinctly that every +one standing near might hear, "Mr Marlowe is just right; he always is." + +"Eh?" cried his father, turning and grasping the back of a chair to +steady himself. + +"Mr. Marlowe is just right about these things. He really couldn't see +you, father." + +"I have never been obliged to wait for any one in all my life, Jasper," +declared his father impressively, "and I never will." + +"I wonder what Polly would do now," thought Jasper in despair. + +"And that you could tolerate such impertinence to me," continued Mr. +King with growing anger, "is more than I can understand; but since +you've come into trade it's vastly changed you. If you do not choose to +come to the hotel with me, I must go alone," which with great dignity he +now proceeded to do. + +The first business man who had finished his conference with Mr. Marlowe +now came down the salesroom. "How d'ye, King," he said cordially to +Jasper in passing. + +Jasper's face lighted as he gave an equally cordial response. + +"Such familiarity, Jasper!" exclaimed his father in a fresh burst of +irritation. "Dear me, I only trust you're not completely spoiled before +I get you out of this." + +The business man turned around and gave a significant look to a knot of +the salesmen, but happening to catch Jasper's eye, he said, "It's a fine +day, King," carelessly, and passed out, but not before "Stuck-up old +money-bag" fell upon the old gentleman's ear. + +"We would better go to the hotel now, I think, father," said Jasper +quietly. "Frank," to the nearest salesman, "will you tell Mr. Marlowe +when it is ten minutes past," glancing at the clock, "that I was obliged +to go with my father, but I will be back at ten o'clock?" + +"You need give yourself no such trouble, Jasper, as all this," said his +father decidedly; "I will wait if it is absolutely necessary that you +see him," with a patronizing wave of his gloved hand toward the private +office. + +"It is absolutely necessary," said Jasper. + +"Very well; I wait, then," said his father, accepting with the air of a +martyr, the chair by the table of books. + +And just then the private office-door opened and out came the other +business man, followed by Mr. Marlowe. + +"Frank," he called briskly, "ask Jasper's father to step here." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +MR. KING ATTENDS TO MATTERS. + + +Old Mr. King kept on turning the books with a careless hand. + +"Father," begged Jasper in a low voice, and putting his hand on the old +gentleman's arm, such a world of entreaty in his face, that his father +turned in spite of himself. + +"After all I much better have it over with now, I really think," said +Mr. King; "yes, Jasper, we will go back," with a marked emphasis on the +word "back." + +"I can't thank you enough, father," exclaimed Jasper gratefully. + +"Well, well, say no more," said old Mr. King abruptly, as they reached +the private office. + +Mr. Marlowe's hands were mechanically adjusting the loose papers on his +desk, so as not to lose an instant's time as Mr. King and Jasper came +up, but he turned a face, over which a bright smile shot suddenly, +lighting up the gray eyes, then quickly whirled around in his office +chair. "Glad to see you," he said, putting out a cordial right hand. + +Mr. King bowed, but evidently did not see the hand; which Mr. Marlowe +not appearing to notice, the old gentleman was more furious than ever. + +"Set a chair for your father, Jasper," said Mr. Marlowe quietly, "and +get one for yourself." Then he leaned back in his office chair and +pleasantly surveyed old Mr. King, waiting for him to speak. + +"I have come, sir," said Mr. King, as he settled his courtly old figure +in the chair Jasper had put for him beside the desk, "to see you about +my son; I am not satisfied with his appearance, nor, I am sorry to say, +with his surroundings." + +"Indeed,?" said the head of the publishing house of D. Marlowe & Co., +still with a pleasant smile on his face. + +"I am very sorry," repeated Jasper's father, "to have to say it, but my +attention has been called to the fact, and I cannot now ignore it." + +"Hardly by Jasper," remarked Mr. Marlowe, bringing the revolving chair +so that he could see Jasper's face. + +"Indeed, no," cried Jasper involuntarily, "it is something father has +heard elsewhere, Mr. Marlowe, and I know he will feel quite differently +when he comes to see things as they really are." + +The grave look on Mr. Marlowe's face disappeared as he turned back to +old Mr. King. + +"Well," he said at last, as the other showed no sign of continuing the +conversation, and still playing with the paper cutter on his desk. + +"Permit me to say, sir," Mr. King broke out, finding to his astonishment +it was not an easy matter to talk to this imperturbable man entrenched +behind his own desk, "that I am disappointed in the atmosphere in which +I find my son. It smells of trade, sir, too much to suit my fancy." + +"Did you suppose for an instant, Mr. King," asked Mr. Marlowe, dropping +the paper-cutter to pick up the pencil, "that our books came out ready +for libraries, without any intervening process?" + +"I certainly supposed Jasper was to be in charge of a literary +department of the house, when I gave my consent to his coming here--" +declared Mr. King very decidedly. + +"Father!" exclaimed Jasper, unable longer to keep silent, "how could I +take charge of any department, until I had learned it all myself?" + +"You have been through Harvard," his father turned on him, "and it seems +to me are fully competent to do the literary work required here." + +"And as for the manufacturing department," continued Jasper, finding it +more difficult to keep still, "it was the only place for me; I had to +begin at the bottom, if I'm ever to be a publisher--which is what my +work is to be--" + +"Not so fast--not so fast," cried the old gentleman excitedly. "You are +not to be a publisher, I take it, if I do not wish it. You've given your +word you will not." + +"I have given my word, father," said Jasper with a long breath, "and +I'll not go back on it," but his lips whitened. + +All this while Mr. Marlowe still played with the little articles on his +desk, sitting very quietly and watching the two. He now threw them down +with an abrupt movement, whirled the revolving chair around suddenly and +sent a lightning-like glance of stern inquiry toward old Mr. King. + +"Be so kind, sir, as to define exactly what your intentions are as to +your son's future. Time is very valuable here, and every fraction +squandered has to be made up in some way." + +"My intentions are," said the old gentleman, in a lofty way, "to take my +son out of the business--entirely out, sir," he waved his hand in a +stately and comprehensive manner; then glanced to see the effect on the +head of the house. + +But there was no effect whatever, except a quick business-like +acceptance of the situation on Mr. Marlowe's implacable face. "Father!" +began Jasper. But old Mr. King was beyond hearing a word. + +"I had intended," he went on condescendingly, "to have my son put in a +large interest in the business, supposing it turned out to be the proper +one for him. In fact, his and my financial support would have made it +one of the finest publishing houses in the world." + +Mr. Marlowe bowed. "Thank you," he said politely. "James," turning to +the window opening into the book-keeping department, "make out Jasper +King's account and settle at once. I believe you wish to go as soon as +you can, do you not," to Jasper, "that is, after you have given me the +report of the business you did on the trip?" + +Jasper could not speak for a moment. Then he said: "But I can't leave my +work in this way--it's," and he sprang to his feet. + +"Jasper," Mr. Marlowe stopped a moment and seemed to swallow something +in his throat, then went on, "your father wishes it, and you will make +him happy"--Jasper started at Polly's own words--"that's enough for one +life time. I'm sorry to lose you, my boy," he suddenly grasped Jasper's +hand, "but allow me to say, sir," turning to old Mr. King, "that for you +and your money I have very little consideration. You don't own enough to +make it worth while for the house of David Marlowe & Co. to extend an +invitation to you to enter it. And now, if you will excuse me, I will +hear Jasper's account of the business he was sent on." + +With that, seeing it was expected of him, old Mr. King got out of his +chair, by the side of the desk, and passed into the long salesroom. + +"I hope you'll believe," began Jasper brokenly, feeling as if the whole +world were going awry, "that this strange idea was never gained from me. +Why, I _love_ the business." His gray eyes glowed as he spoke the +word. + +"My boy," Mr. Marlowe's face was alight with feeling, "don't explain, I +understand it all; you've the misfortune to be born into a rich family, +and your father probably never had to raise his hand to earn a penny. He +isn't to be blamed, only I did hope"-- + +"That I was different," finished Jasper, his head drooping a bit with +the shame of it. "Oh, Mr. Marlowe, father is so splendid--he's just a +magnificent man," he added, the head coming up, with Jasper's old habit +of throwing it back, "if you only knew him and he could have shown you +his old self." + +"Don't I know it," responded Mr. Marlowe heartily, "and I also know that +you must stick by him. Only I did hope--and now I will finish what I was +going to say--that you could stay and help me, for you are after my own +heart, Jasper," he added abruptly, a rare tremble in his voice. + +Jasper put out his hand instinctively. "Thank you, Mr. Marlowe," he said +as the head of the house grasped it warmly, "I shall never forget this." + +And then, as if nothing but the ordinary business had occurred, Jasper +sat down and went carefully over every detail of the commission he had +been sent on, heard Mr. Marlowe's terse, "That's good, Jasper; you've +done it all well," and passed out for the last time, from the private +office, and joined his father in silence, for the walk to the hotel. + +That night Jasper's father wanted to go to a concert, so Jasper got a +box, and sat through it all, not seeing anything but Polly's face, and +hearing, "I'd make him happy, any way." + +Down in the audience sprinkled here and there, or in the galleries, were +some of the D. Marlowe & Co. salesmen and workers staring often up at +him, and the handsome white-haired old gentleman by his side. + +"There's that old snob," they would exclaim at first recognition, to +their companions, "look at him," and under pretense of gazing at the +stage, the opera glasses would be turned on the box. "Looks as if he +owned the whole town, eh?" + +"He is awfully handsome, isn't he?" every salesman's companion would +exclaim, looking at Jasper pale and quiet, in the most secluded part of +the box. + +"Yes," said every one of the men, only seeing the old gentleman, "but +he's too toploftical to live"--or something to that effect--and then +they would forget all about it till the companion's opera glasses +leveled in the same direction, brought the conversation around to the +old topic. + +"They had a flare-up with Mr. Marlowe this morning," confided one +salesman to his friend in the _entr'acte_, "and he's off," with a +nod over to Jasper's private box. + +"Oh dear me!" exclaimed the young girl, with a pang at her heart, "has he +left your business?" + +"Yes," said the salesman, and a real regret passed over his careless +face, "and it's a shame, for no one would have thought he owned a penny; +he was just digging at the business all the time, like the rest of us." + +"Is he very rich?" asked the young girl. + +"Well, I should say," began the salesman, unable to find words to +express Jasper's financial condition. Then the curtain rang up. + +The next morning, old Mr. King broke the egg into his cup thoughtfully. +"I suppose I might as well look about a bit, now that I'm here, Jasper. +I haven't been in this town for twenty years or so." + +"Very well, father," said Jasper, trying not to be listless. "Where +shall we go to-day?" + +"Oh, I'll look around by myself," said his father quickly. "You go to +bed--you look all done up," scanning his son's face anxiously. + +"Indeed, you will not go alone," said Jasper, rousing himself with +shame. "We'll have a good day together." + +"Indeed we will not," retorted the old gentleman. + +"I shall have a cab and go by myself. You'll go to bed, or I'll call in +the doctor. Goodness me, Jasper, you don't look like the same boy that +started out in business six months ago; you're all worn out." + +Jasper said nothing, only redoubled his efforts on the breakfast before +him that now assumed colossal proportions, and as if it could never be +eaten in the world, hoping to persuade his father into allowing him to +go on the tour of inspection. But it was no use. Mr. King on finishing +his morning repast, stalked out to the office, and ordered a carriage, +and presently departed, with last injunctions to Jasper, "to lie down +and take things easy." + +As his father closed the door, Jasper sank into a chair by the table and +allowed his head to drop into his hands; but only for a minute, then he +sprang to his feet, and paced the floor rapidly. + +"If Polly is only happy," he said to himself over and over. How long he +walked thus he never knew--it was only by hearing a vigorous knock on +the door that he stopped, and called, "Come in." + +"They told me," said Jack Loughead, answering the knock, "at the +Marlowes,' that I should find you here, unless you had left the town. +Are you sick?" he asked with concern. + +"No; sit down, do, Loughead," said Jasper, dragging forward a chair, and +falling into one himself, just beginning to be conscious of a stiff pair +of legs. + +Jack Loughead set his hat on the table, and himself in the chair that +Jasper proffered. Then he fell to tapping the tip of his shining boot +with his walking stick. + +"King, I came here to ask you something, that if I didn't trust you so +well I could never ask in all the world. But I feel I can trust you." + +"Oh, don't--don't," begged Jasper, putting up an unsteady hand to ward +off the dreaded subject. "Don't tell me anything, Loughead." + +"Well, I will ask you something, then," said Jack Loughead coolly. "I'm +a business man, King, and I must come to the point in a business way. +First, let me tell you that Uncle and I start for Australia in a +fortnight;" Jasper drew a long breath of relief. "Yes, I must get back; +and you will see that I cannot go without," Jack Loughead paused--then +went on abruptly. "Does Miss Pepper care for Pickering Dodge?" + +"How do I know--how can I tell?" cried Jasper desperately, and springing +from his chair, he began to pace the floor again. "Excuse me, Loughead, +I'm not myself to-day. I've left D. Marlowe & Co. and"-- + +"Yes, I know," interrupted Jack, and drawing a long breath of relief on +his part at being able to speak on this subject now that the ice was +broken; "well, I'm glad, of course, King, if you didn't care to stay," +he said. + +"But I did," cried Jasper, stopping short, to emphasize this. "Mr. +Marlowe is a royal man, through and through, and I'd work for him all my +life. But my father thought best not; that's enough," he added in the +abruptest fashion, beginning to walk again. + +"Yes; well, I see," said Jack. "I know a little what well-meaning +relatives can do to make a young man's life miserable. I'm sorry, King," +and he looked truly wretched over it. + +"And you must forgive anything strange about me to-day," said Jasper, +walking on hurriedly, "for I am all upset." + +"Yes, I know," repeated Jack Loughead, "nothing breaks a man up like +wrenching him from his work. King," he sprang to his feet and joined +Jasper walking on by his side down the room, "you are Miss Pepper's +brother, or as good as one. Can you tell me if I shall wrong Pickering +Dodge if I speak to her?" + +Jasper was saved from answering by old Mr. King coming in with a "Oh, +how d'ye, Loughead? Well, well, Jasper, you've had a good nap, I take +it." And then all three went down to luncheon, and Jasper managed not to +be left alone with Jack Loughead until at the last when he said, "I +shall go and tell the whole story to Mrs. Fisher; of course I must speak +to her first." + + * * * * * + +"Halloo, Dave!" It was such a remarkable cry that David turned at once, +although he was almost on a dead run across the campus. + +"Hey, there!" shouted Percy Whitney as David turned. "Whew! How you do +go, Dave." + +"What's the matter?" cried David, running lightly back to stand in front +of Percy. "Dear me, Percy, you have lost your eyeglasses!" with a glance +at the other's flushed face; "wait, I'll find the things." + +"I yelled my lungs sore," said Percy in irritation, dropping down on his +knees to pass his hands carefully over the campus grass, "and now I've +lost these. Bad luck to you, Dave, for it!" + +"Oh! go without 'em," said David, getting gingerly down on all-fours to +prowl around on the greensward. + +"Go without 'em?" repeated Percy, sitting straight in indignation. "How +could I see, pray tell? Don't be a donkey, Dave." + +David said nothing, but fell to a more diligent search, while Percy +bewailed his loss, watching eagerly David's nimble fingers moving in and +out of the little tufts of grass. + +"Shades of the departed specs," cried David, also sitting straight and +peering with his keen blue eyes in a birdlike way along the sward. "It's +a mysteri--oh, Great Caesar!" then he fell on his back on the campus, +and rolled and laughed, to bring up red and shining, only to tumble over +and roll again. + +"Of all the idiots in the universe, Dave Pepper," fumed Percy. "What's +the matter?" + +"Your trouble has gone to your head," said David faintly. "Feel and see; +oh dear!" + +[Illustration: "HOW YOU CAN SIT THERE AND LAUGH WHEN JOE IS IN DANGER, I +DON'T SEE," EXCLAIMED PERCY IRRITABLY.] + +Percy's hand flew up to his thick mane of brown hair, that not all his +disgust and tireless training could persuade to lie smoothly, when he +picked off his beloved glasses, after an angry twitch or two. + +"How you can sit there and laugh when Joe is in danger, I don't see," he +exclaimed irritably, adjusting them to his nose. "I've nearly killed +myself to catch you, and"-- + +"Joe in danger!" cried David, on his feet in an instant. "Oh, Percy, +what do you mean?" his cheeks whitening, and his blue eyes agleam. + +"Joel's brought it on himself," said Percy, his irritation not going +down. "I must say, Dave, if he'd behave more like the rest of us, he'd +be"-- + +Then Polly's words, "Oh, dear, beautiful Joel!" came to mind, and he +coughed violently, holding fast the eyeglasses in their place. + +"What danger?" demanded David, in his impatience shaking Percy's arm. + +"Well, you must know, after last night's performance over Joe, that they +wouldn't let him alone." + +"Last night's performance over Joel?" repeated David in astonishment. +"What yarn are you spinning now, Percy?" + +"Goodness sake, you are yarning yourself," retorted Percy indignantly, +"to pretend that you don't know that last night a dozen or more fellows +called on Joe, and he handled 'em without gloves, so that Bingley and +Dobbs can't hardly step to-day." + +"It's the first word I've heard of it," said David slowly, but +emphatically, and staggering back a step or two to look at Percy. "I was +out all the evening. Oh, magnificent old Joe!" + +"Magnificent old Joe!" repeated Percy, "you better say 'poor Joe,' when +you know what they are intending to give him." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MOTHER FISHER AND CHARLOTTE. + + +David's blue eyes flashed dangerously. "Tell all you know, Percy," he +said briefly. + +"Dobbs heads it, as he did the first one," said Percy; "they've changed +their tactics, and will get at Joe on their way home from that +confounded meeting. Dave, can't you keep him from that?" and Percy, +forgetting himself, peered anxiously over his glasses. + +"No," said David shortly, "and I sha'n't try." + +"You're an idiot," cried Percy, in a passion, "a stupid, blind old +donkey! Joe will be mauled dreadfully," he howled, beating his hands +together in distress; "no help for it but to keep him away from that old +association meeting." + +"Anything more to tell?" asked David. + +"No," Percy shot out. "Bingley told me all he knew; but they wouldn't +let him catch much of it, because he's left the gang"-- + +David's feet by this time were flying over the Campus, so that Percy was +obliged to shout the remainder of the sentence after him. The +consequence was that several heads were popped out of as many windows in +the long gray dormitory fronting the Campus, their owners all engaged in +the pleasing duty of staring at Percy and the flying figure across the +grass. + +"Now I'm in for it, for there's Dobbs, I vow," exclaimed Percy to +himself, in dismay; "he'll guess I've given Dave warning," and he tried +to strike a careless attitude, picking off his glasses to hold them up +and gaze long and earnestly through them into the nearest tree. + +"You can't come it," jeered Dobbs, from his window. "No birdsnesting, I +promise you, Whitney; ha, ha!" And the other heads popped farther out +than ever, to add a few hisses. + +Percy, maddened by the failure of his plan to divert suspicion, now lost +his head entirely, and sticking his eyeglasses on again, ran off like +lightning to his room, followed by "Little coward, we'll treat you +too--Look out!" + + * * * * * + +"Well, Jasper; now I'm bound for the next thing--Percy and Joel and +David," declared old Mr. King as Jack Loughead was cleverly off; "we are +so near, it's a pity not to drop down on them." + +"Don't you think you ought to hurry back to Brierly?" asked Jasper, +having hard work not to show that he cared anything about it one way or +the other. + +"No, I don't," answered his father, in his crispest fashion. "No one +needs me there; Mrs. Cabot is a host in herself, and those boys may--who +knows? At any rate, I must see how they are getting on, so we will go as +soon as you can get your things packed and sent home," and the old +gentleman glanced around the room at the various keepsakes and family +adornings that Jasper had brought with him to make life less lonely +while he made a business man of himself. + +"Very well, father," said Jasper, he could not trust himself to say +more; and for the first time had to hurry away that his father might not +see his face. But old Mr. King was the farthest removed from carrying +the look of a person holding any interest whatever in Jasper's trouble, +for he went on to say, "And I do hope you will get it over with as +quickly as possible, Jasper, so that we may be off," then he fell to +reading the evening paper with great gusto. + +Jasper seized his hat, rushed down stairs two steps at a time, nearly +overturning Buttons leaning on the post at the foot. + +"Oh! beg pardon," said Jasper, quite as if it had been a gentleman he +had run against. + +"You hain't hurt me none," said Buttons, staggering back to his support, +where he craned his neck in curiosity to watch young Mr. King's +impatience. + +Once out in the park, a half-mile away, his hands thrust in their +pockets, Jasper slackened his pace, and breathed freer. Before him +seemed to be the little brown house; it was the first time he had seen +Mrs. Pepper--and they had just finished their long talk, when the mother +had thanked him for rescuing Phronsie from the organ-grinder. The five +little Peppers were begging him to come over again to see them, but Mrs. +Pepper laid her hand on his arm. "Be sure, Jasper," she warned, "that +your father is willing." He could see her black eyes looking down into +his face. What would she say now? + +Jasper threw himself down on one of the seats under a friendly tree. "At +least, Polly, you sha'n't be ashamed of me," he said in a moment or two, +"and dear Mrs. Fisher," then he walked quietly off to make the last +preparations that his father had ordered. + + * * * * * + +"Well, now, Charlotte," said Mrs. Fisher, "you needn't worry, not a +single bit," and she went on calmly sorting out the small flannel +petticoats in her lap. "That is rather thin," she said, holding up one +between her eyes and the light; "King Fisher, how you do kick things +out!" + +"Mrs. Fisher!" exclaimed Charlotte Chatterton in amazement, "how can you +sit picking over flannel petticoats, when perhaps Polly will--oh, do +excuse me," she broke off hastily, "for speaking so." + +"Polly? I'd trust my girl to know what was sense, and what was +nonsense," declared Mother Fisher crisply, and not taking off her +attention in the slightest from Baby's petticoats. + +"Ar-goo--ar-goo!" screamed little King. + +"So we would--wouldn't we, Birdie?" she said, nodding at him. + +"But people do such very strange things in--in--love," said Charlotte, +her face full of distress, "I mean when love is in the question, Mrs. +Fisher." + +"Polly doesn't," said Mrs. Fisher scornfully. "Polly has never been in +love; why, she is only twenty." + +Charlotte gave an uneasy whirl and rushed off to the window. + +"And there's that dreadful, hateful Mrs. Cabot," she cried, plunging +back, her pale eyes afire. "Oh! I feel so wicked, Mrs. Fisher, whenever +I think of her, I'd like to tear her, I would, for picking at Polly," +she declared with venom. + +"You needn't be afraid," repeated Mrs. Fisher calmly, "Polly knows Mrs. +Cabot through and through, and will never be influenced by anything she +says." + +"Oh, dear, dear, dear!" cried Charlotte, wringing her long hands, "and +there's that Mr. Loughead, and everything is mixed up, and I can't +frighten you." + +"Now, just see here, Charlotte," cried Mother Fisher, casting aside the +flannel petticoats to look up, "you must just put your mind off from all +this; I should never know you, my girl, you are always so sensible and +quiet. Why, Charlotte, what has gotten into you?" + +"That's just it," cried Charlotte, a pink passion in her sallow cheeks, +"everybody thinks because I don't rant every day, that I haven't any +more feeling than a stick or a stone. Oh! do excuse me, Mrs. Fisher, but +I love Polly so!" And she flung herself down on her knees, burying her +face among the little flannel petticoats in Mother Fisher's lap. + +"There--there, my dear," said Mrs. Fisher, smoothing Charlotte's pale +straight hair, "of course you love Polly; everybody does." + +"And I don't--don't want her to marry that Pickering Dodge," mumbled +Charlotte. + +"Certainly not; and she's no more likely to marry him than you are," +said Mrs. Fisher coolly, giving gentle pats to Charlotte's head, while +King Fisher screamed and twitched his mother's gown in anger to see the +petting going on. + +"Well, now I have two babies," said Mother Fisher, with a smile, lifting +him up to her lap, where he amused himself by beating on Charlotte's +head with both fat fists, till his mother seized them with one hand, +while she gently smoothed the girl's hair with the other. "Polly can be +trusted anywhere; and when she is in too much of a dilemma, then she +brings everything to mother." + +Charlotte sat up straight and wiped her eyes. + +"And we've got somebody else to worry about much more, and all our +sympathies ought to go out to him," said Mrs. Fisher gravely. + +"Charlotte, I don't mind telling you that I am dreadfully sorry that +Grandpapa has taken Jasper away from his business." She sat King Fisher +abruptly on the floor, all the little petticoats tumbling after him, and +walked away so that Charlotte could not see her face. "Poor Jasper, he +loved his work so." + +[Illustration: "WELL, NOW I HAVE TWO BABIES," SAID MOTHER FISHER] + +"And that's just it," gasped Charlotte, somehow finding her feet to +hurry over to Mrs. Fisher, "Jasper has lost his work, and now oh +dear!--oh! can't you see, Mrs. Fisher"--and then frightened at her +boldness, she ran back to Baby. + +"Charlotte Chatterton!" exclaimed Mrs. Fisher. There was something so +dreadful in her tone, that Charlotte, without a word, ran out of the +room--to meet little Dr. Fisher hurrying upstairs with his hands full of +letters. "A whole budget from Brierly," he announced joyfully; "two for +you, my girl," casting them into her hands. "And the folks are coming +home next week; that is, our folks--good news--eh, Charlotte?" then he +sped on to find his wife. + +And at dinner Charlotte, sitting pale and immovable amidst all the chat, +let the news of Mr. and Mrs. Mason Whitney's and Dick's determination to +come on to greet the arrivals from the Brierly farmhouse, fall on +apparently unheeding ears. + +"Charlotte!" cried Dr. Fisher at last, looking at her through his big +spectacles, "why, I thought you would rejoice with us," he added +reproachfully. + +"Adoniram," exclaimed Mrs. Fisher across the table, for the first time +in her life looking as if she would like to step on his toes. The little +doctor stared at her a moment--"Oh--er--never mind, my dear," he cried +abruptly, turning to Charlotte. "I suppose you do not feel well." + +"Yes, I do feel well," said Charlotte truthfully, not daring to look at +Mrs. Fisher, but keeping her eyes on the tablecloth. + +"I have a letter from Mr. King--a very long one; he is going to see Joel +and David," Mother Fisher made haste to say; "I hope he hasn't heard +anything wrong about them," and a little anxious pucker came on her +forehead. + +Charlotte Chatterton glanced up quickly, and seeing it, "Oh, I do +believe everything is all right, Mrs. Fisher," she exclaimed +involuntarily. + +Mother Fisher looked straight at her with one of her brightest smiles. +"I guess so," she said, her brow clearing. + +And after they had pulled back their chairs from the table, and the +little doctor had gone into his office for a minute, Mrs. Fisher +followed Charlotte out into the hall. + +"Charlotte," and she put both hands on the girl's shoulders, "you and I +won't meddle with the Lord's will for Polly. Promise me that you'll not +say one word of what we were talking, to any one." + +"I won't!" said Charlotte Chatterton. + +"And now," said Mother Fisher, dropping her arms and resuming her usual +cheery manner, "you and I, Charlotte, have got to put our minds on +getting ready for the Whitneys and the home-coming, and we must make it +just the brightest time that ever was. I'm no good at thinking up ways +to celebrate," added Mrs. Fisher, with a little laugh, "Polly always did +that; so you must do it for me, you and the doctor, Charlotte. And you +better run in to his office now and make a beginning, for next week will +come before we know it," and with a motherly pat, and a "run along, +child," Mrs. Fisher waited to see Charlotte well on the way before she +turned to her own duties. + +"Come in!" cried little Dr. Fisher, as she rapped at the office door. +"Oh, it's you, Charlotte," with a sigh of relief; "I'm sure I don't feel +much like dragging on my boots and going off to the Land's End to-night, +on a call." + +"Mrs. Fisher thought I ought to come and see you, sir, about getting up +a plan to celebrate the home-coming next week," said Charlotte, feeling +her heart bounding already with delight. Would they really all be +together in a week? + +"Now that's something like," exclaimed Dr. Fisher joyfully, and pushing +aside with a reckless hand his books and vials on the table; "sit down, +do, Charlotte; there," as Charlotte settled her long figure in the +opposite chair. "Now then!" + +"I never got up a plan to celebrate anything in my life," said +Charlotte, folding her hands in dismay. + +"Nor I either," confessed the little doctor in an equal tremor, "Polly +was always great at those things. But I suppose that's the reason my +wife set us two together, Charlotte, for she's the wisest of women, and +perhaps we ought to learn how to get up celebrations." + +"If only Phronsie were home," breathed Charlotte wistfully. "I'm so +afraid our affair will be worse than nothing." + +"I dare say," replied the little doctor cheerily, "but we can try, and +that goes a great way, Charlotte--trying does." + +[Illustration: "I'VE ALWAYS FOUND," SAID DR. FISHER, "THAT ALL YOU HAD +TO DO TO START A THING, WAS TO BEGIN."] + +Charlotte drew a long breath and moved uneasily in her chair. "If we +only knew how to begin," she said at last doubtfully. + +"I've always found," said Dr. Fisher, springing from his chair, "that +all you had to do to start a thing was to--begin." + +"Yes, that's just it," ruminated Charlotte, bringing up her hands to +hold her head with, "I think we are in a tight place, Dr. Fisher." + +"Hum, that may be," assented the little man, "I like tight places. Now, +then, Charlotte, how do you say begin?" + +Charlotte sat lost in thought for a minute, then she said, "Any way, I +think it would be best for us to get up something very simple, so long +as we are beginners." + +"I think so too," agreed Dr. Fisher, "so that's settled. Now for the +first thing; what do you say we should do, Charlotte?" + +"How would it do," asked Charlotte suddenly, "to invite everybody after +they have gotten over the first of the home-coming--after dinner, I +mean--into the drawing-room, and then tell them that we are not smart +enough to think up things, and ask them to give a recitation apiece, or +something of that sort?" + +"Charlotte Chatterton!" exclaimed the little doctor, cramming his hands +into the side pockets of his office coat and staring at her. + +"I am ashamed of you! that would be shabby enough--not so bad either," +he added quickly, a sudden thought striking him, "as you'll do your part +in singing." + +"Oh! I couldn't sing," cried Charlotte, drawing back into her shell of +coldness again, "they don't any of them care for it; they've heard me so +much," she finished, trying to smooth her refusal over. + +"You'll sing," declared the little doctor decidedly, "we could never be +tired of hearing you; and for the rest, I have a notion that this might +suit. See here," and he threw himself into his office chair, and looked +Charlotte squarely in the face, "why not ask Alexia and Cathie and the +others, to take hold and get up some fandango--eh?" + +Charlotte caught herself on the edge of saying "No," then drew a long +breath and said, "Well," trying not to seem indifferent over the plan. + +"Don't like it--eh?" asked Dr. Fisher, regarding her keenly. + +"It might be the best thing in the world," said Charlotte slowly. "Those +girls act splendidly; they've had little plays so often, and Polly has +drilled them, that they'll know just how to go to work, and it will +please Polly. Oh, yes, do let us have that," she cried, beginning to wax +quite enthusiastic. + +"It will please them too," said the little man, not withdrawing his +gaze. + +"Yes, it will please them," said Charlotte, after a minute, "and I will +run over in the morning and ask them." + +"That's good!" cried Dr. Fisher, bringing his hands together with a +joyful clap; and getting out of his chair he began to skip up and down +like a boy. "And let Amy Loughead do the piano music, do; that will +please Polly to see how the child has gone ahead. I can't hardly believe +Miss Salisbury; she tells me the chit practices every minute she can +save from other things. Be sure to have her asked, Charlotte, child." + +"I will ask Amy," promised Charlotte, with a pang at the thought of the +delight over Jack Loughead's handsome face at her invitation. + +"And you are to sing," cried the little doctor jubilantly. "Now we are +all capitally fixed. It takes you and me to get up celebrations, doesn't +it?" and he stood as tall as he could and beamed at her. "I'd go over as +early as I could, Charlotte," he advised, "and tell those girls, because +you know a week isn't much to get ready in." + +"I will," said Charlotte, "go the very first thing after breakfast." + +And after breakfast, the next morning, she tied her hat on, and not +trusting herself to think of her expedition, actually ran down the long +carriage drive to the avenue--then walking at her best pace, she stood +before Alexia Rhys' door and rang the bell. + +"There, now, I can't go back," she said to herself, and in a minute or +two she was in the reception room, and Alexia Rhys was running over the +stairs and standing with a puzzled expression on her face, before her. + +"Oh, my goodness me--oh, oh!" exclaimed Alexia, with a little laugh. "Is +this you, Miss Chatterton?" + +"Yes," said Charlotte Chatterton, "I came to ask if you would get up +something nice to celebrate the home-coming of all the family from +Brierly; and Mr. Whitney's family are to come too, next week. Will you, +Miss Rhys?" + +"Well, I never!" cried Alexia Rhys, sinking into the first chair she +could find. "You want me--I shouldn't think you would," she added +truthfully. + +"I didn't at first," said Charlotte Chatterton, "but I do now, Miss +Rhys--oh! very much, you and Miss Harrison, and all those girls--you can +get up something beautiful; and Dr. Fisher and I don't in the least know +how, and we want you to do it." Then she sat quite still. + +"Well, I declare!" cried Alexia Rhys, unable to find another word. Then +she looked out of the window. "Oh, here's Clem," and, rushing out, +Charlotte could hear a whispered consultation with, "Did you ever?" and +"I'm awfully ashamed," while Clem's voice said, "So am I." + +"Well, come in," said Alexia audibly at last, dragging Clem after her +into the reception room, "we've got to do what's right now, any way." + +"I'm awfully ashamed, Miss Chatterton," said Clem Forsythe, going +straight to Charlotte's chair and putting out her hand; "we girls +haven't been right to you since you came, and I, for one, want to ask +your pardon." + +"Dear me, so do I," cried Alexia, crowding in between with an eager hand +stretched out, "but what good will that do--we said things, at least I +did the most. Oh, my hateful tongue!" + +"If you'll only take hold and make a nice celebration for Polly and all +the others, that will be all I'd want," said Charlotte. "Thank you, you +are so good," she brought up happily. + +"And then we'll do something for you some time," declared Alexia, "all +for yourself, won't we, Clem--something perfectly elegantly splendid?" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +STRAIGHTENING OUT AFFAIRS. + + +Two days after, old Mr. King was walking over the college campus, bound +for Joel's and David's room in the "Old Brick Dormitory." + +"I am glad I sent Jasper ahead to the hotel; I much rather pop in on the +boys by myself," soliloquized the old gentleman in great satisfaction. +"Ah, here it is," beginning to mount the stairs. + +"Come in," yelled a voice, as he rapped with his walking-stick on the +door of No. 19, "and don't make such a piece of work breaking the door +down--oh, beg pardon!" as Mr. King obeyed the order. + +A tall figure sprawled in the biggest chair, his long legs carried up to +the mantel, where his boots neatly reposed; while a cloud of smoke +filling the room, made Mr. King cough violently in spite of himself. + +"'Tis a nasty air," said the tall young man, getting his legs down in +haste from the mantel, and himself out of the chair, though with much +difficulty; "take a glass of water, sir," hobbling over to a side table, +and pouring one out, to work his way with it to old Mr. King. + +"Thank you," said the old gentleman, when he could speak, and accepting +it quickly, "you say truly, the air is beastly," glancing around the +room in displeasure at the plentiful signs of its inmates' idea of +having a good time at college. "Are Joel and David Pepper soon to be +in?" As he spoke, he lifted up the cover of a French novel thrown on the +lounge near him, and dropped it quickly as he read the title. + +"Hey? oh! I see--a little mistake," exclaimed the tall youth, going +unsteadily back to his chair. "Their room is 19, in the extension. I am +Robert Bingley, sir." + +"I'm very glad," cried old Mr. King heartily, "for I don't mind telling +you, my young friend, that I shouldn't want Joel's and David's room to +look like this." + +"I don't blame you in the least, sir," said Bingley, nowise abashed, +"but you needn't worry, for the Peppers aren't my kind. You must be +Grandfather King?" he added. + +"Yes, I am," said old Mr. King, straightening up, and throwing back his +white hair with a proud gesture. "So you've heard about me?" he asked, +in a gratified way. + +"I should rather think we had," said Bingley, "why, all of us know about +you, sir." Here he got out of his chair again. "You won't care to, after +you know all, but I should like to shake hands with you, sir." + +"Most certainly," responded the old gentleman heartily, "although your +room isn't to your credit." Thereupon he bestowed a courtly hand-shake +upon the young man, with the utmost cordiality, making Bingley, who +seemed to have a good deal of trouble with his legs, to retreat to his +chair in a high state of satisfaction. + +"It was mean of me to ask you such a favor, sir," said Bingley, gazing +up at the ceiling, "before I had told you all, but I couldn't help it, +some way, and I knew you wouldn't touch my hand after you'd heard. Well, +I was one of a gang who went to Joe Pepper's room last week for the +purpose of lamming him." + +"You went to Joe Pepper's room for the purpose of lamming him?" repeated +old Mr. King, darting out of his chair. + +"Yes, sir"--Bingley still kept his gaze glued to the ceiling--"but we +didn't do it, though; Joe lammed us." + +"Oh!" + +"So the rest of the gang are going for him to-night; I'm not able to," +said Bingley, trying to appear careless. + +"Joel to be in such business--how could he!" fumed old Mr. King. "A +gentleman--and I thought so much of his turning out well. It will kill +his mother--oh, how could he?" turning fiercely on Bingley. + +"See here, now," cried that individual, tearing his gaze from the +ceiling, to send a sharp glance at the white-haired old gentleman, "Joe +is all right; straight as a brick. You can bet your money on that, sir." + +"Oh--oh!" cried Mr. King, more and more horrified, "is this what you all +come to college for? I should consider, sir," very sternly, "it a place +to keep up the dignity of one's family in, and that of such a venerable +institution," waving both shapely hands to include the entire pile of +buildings by which they were surrounded. + +Bingley gave vent to an uncontrollable laugh. "Beg pardon, sir, but the +dignity isn't worth a rush. We are in the old hole, and all we look out +for is to have a good time, and scrape through." + +"Old hole--and scrape through! Oh, dear--oh, dear!" groaned old Mr. +King. + +"That's what our set do," said Bingley, to give him time to recover, +"Joe and Davina--ah, I mean David--don't train in our crowd; the other +one, Whitney"-- + +"Don't tell me that he does," interrupted Percy's grandfather sharply. +"It wouldn't be possible." + +"No, he doesn't affect us," said Bingley coolly, "it's all he can do to +take care of those eyeglasses of his; and he'd muss his clothes. Whitney +is something of a softy, sir." + +Old Mr. King drew a long breath of relief. But he looked so troubled, +that Bingley for the life of him couldn't keep up his assumed +carelessness. + +"Sit down again, do, sir," he begged involuntarily, "and I will tell you +all about it," and Mr. King, resuming his chair, presently had a graphic +account of Joel's course in college, with a description of the trouble +in his room, till the whole thing was laid bare. + +"How I wish I had been here to see my boy," exclaimed the old gentleman, +with sparkling eyes; "I might have helped him a bit." He stretched out a +handsome fist and looked at it as admiringly as any college athlete +could view his own. "Well," dropping his arm, "I am interrupting you, +Mr."--groping for the name. + +"Bingley, sir." + +"Ah, yes; Bingley. Well, Mr. Bingley, pray go on. Did you not say that +another attempt was to be made on my grandson?" + +Bingley nodded. "To-night after he comes from the Association rooms," he +added. + +"We shall see--we shall see," exclaimed the old gentleman drily, in a +manner that delighted Bingley and made him tingle all over to "be in at +the death" himself. + +"Dobbs has planned it to"-- + +"Dobbs?" interrupted the old gentleman sharply, "what family? Not the +Ingoldsby Dobbs, I trust"-- + +"This chap's name is Ingoldsby Dobbs," said Bingley; "he's a high-flyer, +I tell you! Lives up to his name, I suppose he thinks." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," mourned Mr. King; "I have known his father ever +since we were boys; he's capital stock. Well, go on, Mr. Bingley, and +let me know what this young rascal is up to," he added, with extreme +irritation. + +"He is going to have his men close in on Joe in the middle of the park. +Pepper often comes that way to 'Old Brick'--short, you know, for 'Old +Brick Dormitory'--with a poor miserable cuss--excuse me, sir--he's +trying to get up on to sober legs. There are twenty fellows pledged to +do the job, I've found out." + +Bingley didn't think it worth while to mention how the plan was +discovered, nor that heavy vengeance was vowed upon his head if he +divulged it. + +"I gave it away to Whitney. I couldn't get at Davi--er, Dave, to see if +it wasn't possible to keep Joe away from that meeting." + +"It would come some time--it better be to-night," said the old gentleman +briefly. "Well, is that all?" + +"Yes, sir; only that they are to toss a cloak over Joe's head, and carry +him off for a little initiation fun." + +"Ah!" Old Mr. King sat quite straight. "Thank you, Mr. Bingley," he +said, getting out of his chair. He didn't offer to shake hands, and +Bingley, though pretending not to notice any omission of that sort, felt +considerably crest-fallen about it. + +The moment the door was shut and he heard Mr. King go down the stairs, +Robert Bingley ran his fingers through his hair, giving a savage pull at +the innocent locks. + +"Curse my luck!" he growled, taking out the angry fingers to shake them +at his legs, "tied here by these two beggars, and he thinks that I'm +sneaking out of standing up for Joe!" + +Old Mr. King fumed to himself all the way down the stairs, becoming more +angry with each step. When he reached the lower hall he turned and +passed through the building instead of going out, and meeting a young +collegian on a run, asked, "Have the goodness to tell me, sir, does Mr. +Ingoldsby Dobbs room in this building?" + +"No. 23-4-5 in the extension," said the undergraduate, not slackening +speed, and pointing the direction. So the old gentleman climbed the +staircase to the wing, and presently rapped on the door marked 23. + +Uproarious shouts of laughter greeted him as he opened the door in +response to a loud "Come in!" The noise stopped as suddenly as it was +possible for the inmates of the room to check it when they saw the +visitor, but not before "We'll season Pepper well and make the deacon +howl!" came distinctly to his ears. + +"Good afternoon, young gentlemen," said old Mr. King, bowing his white +head; and holding his hat in his hand, he advanced to the table, around +which sat six or eight of them. "I beg of you not to go," as some of +them made a sudden movement to leave; "I should like to see you all, +though I called especially upon Mr. Ingoldsby Dobbs." + +A tall, wiry youth with sallow face and high-bred nose, disentangled +himself from the group and came forward. "I don't remember where I have +met you, sir," he said, yet extending his hand, with his best manner on. + +"Aristocratic old party," whispered one man to his neighbor, "Dobbsey +needn't be afraid to claim him." + +"I am very thankful to say I never have met you before, young man," +observed Mr. King coolly, not seeing the slender hand waiting for his, +"your father honors me with his friendship. This may tell you who I am," +and he threw a card upon the table. + +Young Dobbs' sallow face turned a shade paler as he picked up the card +and read it. + +"Glad to see you--sit down, won't you?" he mumbled, dragging up a +comfortable chair. "Any friend of father's is welcome here," he went on +awkwardly, while the rest of the men stared at him, one of them +exclaiming under his breath, "First time Dobbs' cheek deserted him, I'll +wager." + +The old gentleman looked first into Ingoldsby Dobbs' thin face, then +surveyed them all quite leisurely. "I understand you paid my grandson, +Joel Pepper, a call a short time since, when instead of abusing him, +some of you got your deserts." + +The men started, and angry exclamations went around the room: "He's +turned coward, the mean sneak! We'll pay him up!" and remarks of a like +nature being quite audible. + +Old Mr. King turned on them. "Silence!" he commanded. "My grandson Joel +doesn't know I am here. I heard the story since my arrival. If any one +says one word against him, I'll cane him from the top of the stairs to +the bottom," and he looked as if he could do it. + +"'Twas Bingley, then," said Dobbs sullenly. + +The old gentleman completely ignored him, addressing his words to the +crowd. "There are four men in this class who are going to be protected +from your insults. Those are my three grandsons and Mr. Robert Bingley; +and this is to be done without appealing to the college authorities +either. That puts a stop to your fine plan, Mr. Dobbs," at last looking +at him, "and any other idea of the same sort your fertile brain may +chance to think up. The first intimation of any hostility, and your +father and the fathers of these men here with you," waving his hand at +them all, "and of the others in this interesting plan, will be informed, +and you will be dealt with exactly like any other disturber of the +peace--villains in college or out of it ought to be served to the same +punishment, in my opinion. Now have any of you remarks to make?" + +It was so like Joel's invitation to "Come on and have it out now," that +not a single man of them stirred. + +"Then I will have the pleasure of bidding you good-by," said Mr. King, +and the next moment he was outside of No. 23, while perfect silence +reigned within. + +Polly came slowly down Mrs. Higby's front stairs and looked at Phronsie +standing at the further end of the entry. + +"What's the matter, Phronsie?" at last she asked. + +For the first time in her life Phronsie seemed unable to answer Polly, +and she stood quite still, her gaze fastened on the big-flowered muslin +curtain that swung back and forth in the breeze that came through the +open window. + +"Now, Phronsie," said Polly very decidedly, and going up to her, "you +must tell me what the matter is." + +"I can't," said Phronsie, in a low tone, "don't ask me, Polly." + +"Can't tell me everything?" cried Polly. "Dear me, what nonsense, +Phronsie. Come now, begin, there's a dear." + +"But I am not to tell," persisted Phronsie, shaking her head. Then she +drew a long breath, and looked as if she were going to cry. + +"Who has been telling you things?" cried Polly, her brown eyes flashing, +"that you are not to tell? It is Mrs. Cabot. I know it is, for there is +no one else here who would do it." + +"Don't ask me," pleaded Phronsie in great distress, and clutching +Polly's gown. "Oh, don't say anything more about it, Polly." + +"Indeed I shall," declared Polly. "No one has a right to command you in +this way, and I shall just speak to Mrs. Cabot about it." + +"Oh, no, no," protested Phronsie, huddling up closer to Polly in dismay; +"please, Polly, don't say anything to her about it, please." + +"Mamsie wouldn't ever allow you to be annoyed about anything," said +Polly, with increasing irritation, "and if Mrs. Cabot has said anything +to you, Phronsie, to make you feel badly, why, I must know it. Don't you +see, child, that I really ought to be told?" + +Phronsie folded her hands tightly together, trying to keep them quiet, +and her cheeks turned so very white that Polly hastened to put her well +arm around her, saying quickly, "There, there, child, you needn't tell +me now if you don't want to. Wait a bit." + +"I had rather tell it now," said Phronsie, "but oh, I do wish that +Grandpapa was here," she added sadly. + +"Whatever can have been said to you, Phronsie?" exclaimed Polly in +dismay. "You frighten me, child. Do tell me at once what it was." + +"Jasper isn't going to be at Mr. Marlowe's any more," said Phronsie, +with distinctness. + +"Jasper isn't going to be at Mr. Marlowe's any more." repeated Polly +wildly, and holding Phronsie so closely that she winced. "Oh, what do +you mean! who has told you such nonsense?" + +"Mrs. Cabot," said Phronsie; "she told me this morning--and I was not to +tell you, Polly. But I did not promise not to. Indeed I didn't." + +"What perfect nonsense!" exclaimed Polly, recovering herself, and trying +to laugh, "well, Phronsie, child, didn't you know better than to believe +any story that Mrs. Cabot might tell? How in the world could she know of +Jasper's affairs, pray tell?" and she laughed again, this time quite +gaily. + +"Ah, but," said Phronsie, shaking her head, "she had a letter from Mr. +Cabot; it came in this morning's mail; she opened it and said out loud +this dreadful thing about Jasper, and then she saw me, and she said I +was not to tell you." + +Polly dropped Phronsie's arm and rushed down the hall. + +"Where are you going?" cried Phronsie, hurrying after--"Oh, Polly!" + +"I am going to make Mrs. Cabot tell me everything she knows," said Polly +hoarsely, and not looking back; "she shall let me have every syllable. +It can't be true!" She threw wide the door of Mrs. Higby's +"keeping-room" where that lady was engaged in putting a patch on the +chintz-covered sofa, and talking gossip with a neighbor at the same +time. + +"I thought as this was a-going so fast, Mr. Higby sets it out so, and we +were all so comfortable to-day, I'd get at it kinder early," said Mrs. +Higby apologetically; "anything I can do, Miss Polly?" she asked, flying +away from her patch, and dropping her scissors on the floor. + +"No," said Polly, turning back hastily. "Never mind, Mrs. Higby." + +"Now 'twas something you wanted me for," cried Mrs. Higby, ambling +toward the door, "I ain't a mite busy, Miss Polly; that old patch can +wait. La! I can tell Mr. Higby to set on the other end till I get time +to attend to it. What was it, Miss Polly?" + +Polly turned back, Mrs. Higby's tone was so full of entreaty. "Oh, +nothing, only if it isn't too much trouble, would you ask Mrs. Cabot to +come down stairs a moment, I want to see her." + +"Oh, cert'in," cried Mrs. Higby, ambling off toward the stairs. And +presently Mrs. Cabot in a pink morning gown came down the hall toward +Polly, and put both arms around her. + +[Illustration: "Phronsie, get a glass of water; be quick, child!"] + +"What is it, dear?" she asked caressingly. + +"Come out of doors," begged Polly, "I can't breathe here. Come, Mrs. +Cabot." + +And Mrs. Cabot, her arms still around Polly, was drawn out to the old +porch, Phronsie following. Then Polly shook herself free. + +"Is it true?" she began--"I made Phronsie tell me--that Jasper," she +caught her breath, but went on again hurriedly, "has left Mr. Marlowe?" + +"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Cabot in consternation, "what shall I do? +Yes; but I wasn't to tell you; Mr. King is coming back. Do wait, Polly, +and ask him about it." + +"I shall not wait," declared Polly passionately, facing her. "Tell me +all you know, Mrs. Cabot; every single word." + +"I don't know a thing about it," cried Mrs. Cabot in a frightened way, +"only Mr. Cabot writes that Mr. King has made Jasper leave Mr. Marlowe. +That's all I know about it, Polly," she added desperately, "and I wish +Mr. Cabot had been asleep before he wrote it. Phronsie, oh! get a glass +of water; be quick, child!" as Polly sank down on the old stone floor of +the porch. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +POLLY TRIES TO HELP JASPER. + + +"I think it was a mean shame," began Dick wrathfully. + +"Dick--Dick!" exclaimed his mother gently. + +Mr. Whitney tapped his knee with a letter he had just placed within its +envelope, then threw it on the table. "It's the best job I ever did," he +cried jubilantly, "to get Jasper out of that business." + +Dick sent his two hands deep within their pockets. "Oh! how can you say +so?" he cried. + +"And how can you question what your father does?" exclaimed Mrs. +Whitney. "Why, that isn't like you, Dick!" with a face full of reproach. + +"Oh! let the boy say what he wants to, Marian," broke in her husband +easily. "So, Dicky, my lad, you don't think I did just the right thing +for Jasper--eh?" + +He leaned back in his chair, and surveyed his young son with a twinkle +in his eye. + +"No, I don't," declared Dick, beginning to rage up and down the room on +young indignant feet. "I say it's mean to meddle with a fellow's +business. I wouldn't stand it!" he added stoutly. + +Mr. Whitney laughed long and loud, despite his wife's shocked, "Dicky, +don't, dear!" + +"Well, if I didn't know that in a year's time Jasper will come to me and +say, 'I thank you!' I should never have gone through with the job in the +world," said his father, when he came out of his amusement. "It isn't +the pleasantest piece of work a man could select, 'to meddle,' as you +call it, with another's affairs." + +"Jasper never will thank you in the world--never!" exclaimed Dick, +cramming his irritated hands deeper in their pockets, and turning on his +father. + +"You see," said his father, nodding easily. + +"And you see, papa," cried Dick, turning hastily in front of him, +looking so exactly like his father that Mrs. Whitney forgot to chide, in +admiring them both. + +"And I think it's too bad," went on Dick. "Everybody pitches into +Jasper, and wants him to do things; and Grandpapa is always picking at +him. I'd--I'd fight--sometimes," he added. + +"Softly--softly there, my boy," said Mr. Whitney; "you'll have plenty of +practice for all your fighting powers by and by; a fourteen-year-old +chap doesn't know everything." + +"Well, I know one thing," declared Dick, more positively, "Grandpapa has +always been meddling with Jasper, and you know it, papa." + +"That's because he expects great things from Jasper, and that he will +hold up the King name; we all do," replied his father. + +Dick turned on an impatient heel. "And so he would have done, if you'd +let him be a publisher," he declared. + +His father laughed again, and leaned out of his chair to pinch his son's +ear, but Dick, resenting this indignity, retreated to a safe position, +declaring, "And I'm going to be one when I'm through college--so!" + +[Illustration: "I THINK IT WAS A MEAN SHAME' BEGAN DICK WRATHFULLY.] + +"Mr. King's a-coming down the road, and Mr. Jasper!" screamed Mrs. +Higby, coming out suddenly to the porch. "I see 'em from the +keepin'-room window. My! what's the matter with Miss Polly?" + +"Nothing," said Polly, opening her eyes; "that is, not much," and +sitting up straight. "Are Grandpapa and Jasper really coming?" she +asked. + +"Dear me, Polly," exclaimed Mrs. Cabot, before Mrs. Higby could answer, +and putting shaking hands on Polly's shoulders, "I never was so +frightened in my life! I thought your arm was worse--and you so near +well! O, dear! are you sure you are right?" peering around into her +face. "Here comes Phronsie with the water--that's good!" + +Polly took the glass and smiled up reassuringly into Phronsie's troubled +face. "Oh! how good that is, Phronsie," she cried. "There now, I'm all +right. Don't let Grandpapa or Jasper know," and she sprang to her feet, +while Mrs. Higby hurried off to see if her preparations for dinner were +all right, now that Mr. King had come back a day sooner than he wrote he +intended. + +"Phronsie, you go and meet them; do, dear," begged Polly; and as +Phronsie ran off obediently, Polly walked up and down the porch with +hasty steps, holding her hands as tightly locked together as the injured +arm would allow. "Oh! if I only had time to think--but I ought to try, +even if I don't say just exactly the right words, for Mr. Marlowe may +not be able to take him back if I wait," and then Grandpapa came +hurrying out with, "Where's Polly?" and she was kissed and her cheeks +patted--he not seeming to notice anything amiss in her--he was so glad +to get back; and through it all, Polly saw only Jasper's face, and, +although everything seemed to turn around before her, she made up her +mind that she would tell Grandpapa just what she thought, and beg him to +change his mind, the very first instant she could. + +And so, before the first greetings of the homecoming were fairly over, +Polly, afraid her courage would give out if she waited a moment longer, +put her hand on Mr. King's arm. "What is it, dear?" asked the old +gentleman, busy with Phronsie, who hung around his neck, while she tried +to tell him everything that had happened during his absence; and he +peered over her shoulder into Polly's face. + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly in a tremor, "could you let me talk to you a +little just now? Please, Grandpapa." + +"Well, yes, dear, after Phronsie has"-- + +"Oh! Phronsie will wait," cried Polly, guilty of interrupting; "I know +she will." + +For the first time in her life, Phronsie said rebelliously, "Oh! I don't +want to wait, Polly. Dear Grandpapa has just got home, and I must tell +him things." + +"So you shall, Phronsie," declared old Mr. King, drawing her off beyond +Polly's reach. "There, now you and I will get into this quiet corner," +and he sat down and drew Phronsie to his knee. "Now, Pet, so you are +glad to get your old Grandpapa home, eh?" + +Polly, in an agony at being misunderstood, followed, and without +stopping to think, she threw her arms around Phronsie and cried, "O, +Phronsie! do trust me, dear, and let Grandpapa go. I must see him now!" + +Mr. King gave Polly's burning cheeks a keen glance, then he set Phronsie +on the floor abruptly. "Phronsie, see, dear, Polly really needs me. +Come, child," and he gathered up Polly's hand into his own, and marched +out of the room with her. + +"Suppose we go in here," said the old gentleman, "and have our talk," +unceremoniously opening the door of Mrs. Higby's best room as he spoke; +"nobody is likely to disturb us here." + +Polly, not caring where she went, but with the words she must speak +weighing heavily on her mind, followed him unsteadily into the parlor, +and while he threw open a blind or two to light up the gloom that +usually hung over Mrs. Higby's best room, she busied herself trying to +think how she should begin. + +"There, now, my dear," said Mr. King, coming up to her, and drawing her +off to a big haircloth sofa, standing stiffly against the wall, "we will +sit down here, and then we can go over it comfortably together and +settle what is on your mind," he added, feeling immensely gratified at +the impending confidence. + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly in desperation, and springing from the sofa, +where he had placed her by his side, to stand in front of him, "I don't +know where to begin. Oh! do help me." She clasped her hands, and stood +the picture of distress, unable to say another word. + +"Why, how can I help you to tell me, child," cried old Mr. King in +astonishment, "when I don't know in the least what it is you want to +say?" + +"Oh! I know it," cried Polly, twisting her hands, unable to hold them +quite still. "O, dear! what shall I do? Grandpapa, it's just"-- + +"Well, what, my dear?" asked the old gentleman, and taking one of her +hands encouragingly. "Are you afraid of me? Why, Polly!" + +Polly started at his tone of reproach, and threw her well arm around his +neck, exactly as Phronsie would have done, which so pleased the old +gentleman that it was easier for her to begin again to tell him what was +on her mind. But when she had gotten as far as "It's just this"--she +stopped again. + +"Well, now, Polly," said Mr. King, sitting straight on the sofa, with +displeasure, "I must say, I am surprised at you. I should never think +this was you, Polly, never in all the world," which so unnerved her, +that she plunged at once into what she had set herself to do, saying the +most dreadful thing that was possible. + +"O, Grandpapa!" she cried, "do you think it can be right to take Jasper +away from his work?" + +"Hoity-toity! Well, I must say, Polly," exclaimed the old gentleman in +the greatest displeasure, and rising abruptly from the sofa, brushing +her aside as he did so, "that I never have been so surprised in my life, +as to have you come to teach me my duty. Right? Of course it is--it must +be, if I wish it. I have always looked out for Jasper's good," with that +he walked up and down the parlor, fuming at every step, and looking so +very dreadful, that Polly, rooted to the spot, had only to stand still, +and watch him in despair. + +"If you could have seen Jasper, the way he was when I found him," said +Mr. King, tired at last of vituperating, and coming up to Polly sternly, +"you would be glad to have me get him out of the wretched business. It +smelt so of trade, and everybody was grossly familiar; while that Mr. +Marlowe--I have no words for him, Polly. He insulted me." + +"Oh!--oh!" cried Polly, with clasped hands and flaming cheeks. "How +could he, Grandpapa? Jasper has always said he was such a gentleman." + +"Jasper's ideas of what a gentleman should be, and mine, are very +different," exploded the old gentleman, beginning to walk up and down +the parlor again. "I tell you, Polly, that my boy is sadly changed since +he went into that contemptible trade." + +"But Jasper loves his work," mourned Polly, her color dying down. + +"Loves his work? Well, he shouldn't," cried Mr. King in extreme +irritation. "It's no sort of a work for him to love, brought up as he +has been. A profession is the only thing for him. Now he studies law"-- + +"O, Grandpapa!" cried Polly, quite white now, and she precipitated +herself in front of the old gentleman's angry feet, "Jasper just hates +the law. I know, for he has often said so; and if you do fasten him down +all his life to what he don't like, and make him be a lawyer, it will +kill him. He'll do it, Grandpapa"--Polly rushed on, regardless of the +lightning gleam of anger in the sharp eyes above her; and, although she +knew that after this she should never be the same Polly to him as of +old, she kept on steadily--"because you want him to; he'll do anything +to please you, and make you happy, Grandpapa, and he won't say anything, +but it will kill him; it surely will, for he loves his work with Mr. +Marlowe so." Then Polly stopped, aghast at the effect of her words. + +"And what am I to do now, pray, to please you?" asked old Mr. King, and +drawing off to look at her quite coldly. + +"Oh! nothing to please me," cried poor Polly; "only for Jasper. Do let +him go back to Mr. Marlowe, Grandpapa." + +"He shall never go back to Mr. Marlowe with my consent," declared the +old gentleman stiffly, his anger rising again, "and you have displeased +me very much, Polly Pepper, by all this. Now you may go; and remember, +not another word about Jasper and his work. I will arrange everything +concerning him without interference." And Polly, not knowing how crept +out of Mrs. Higby's parlor, and shut the door. + +[Illustration: "OH, WHY DID I SPEAK?" CRIED POLLY OVER AND OVER.] + +"Polly!" somebody called, as she hurried on unsteady feet over the +stairs to her own little room that she had begged under the farmhouse +eaves. But she didn't even answer, only rushed on, and locked the door +behind her. Then she threw herself on her knees by the bed, and buried +her face in her hands. This was worse than the day so long ago when she +sat in the old rocking-chair in the little brown house, with eyes bound +closely to shut out all outside things; and all of them had been afraid +she was going to be blind. For now she felt sure that she had spoiled +whatever chance there might have been for Jasper. "Oh! why did I +speak--why did I?" she cried, over and over in her distress, as she +buried her face deeper yet in Mrs. Higby's gay patch bedquilt. + +After a while--Polly never could tell how long she had staid +there--somebody rapped at the door. It was Phronsie; and she cried in a +grieved little voice, "Polly, are you here? I've been under the +apple-trees--and just everywhere for you. Do let me in." + +"I can't now, Pet," cried Polly, trying not to let her voice sound +choked with tears; "you run away, dear; Polly will let you in by and +by." + +"Are you sick, Polly?" cried Phronsie anxiously, and kneeling down to +put her mouth to the keyhole. + +"No, not a bit," said Polly hastily, and trying to speak cheerfully. + +"Really, Polly?" + +"Really and truly, Phronsie; there, run away, dear, if you love me." + +Phronsie, at this, unwillingly crept off, and still Polly knelt on, with +the wild remorse tugging at her heart that she had been the one to +injure Jasper's prospects for life. + +And then the dinner-bell rang, and Polly, who was never known to be late +at a meal, heard Mrs. Higby come out into the hall again, and shake the +big bell till it seemed to fill the whole farmhouse with its noise. + +"Oh! I can't go down--I can't!" moaned poor Polly to herself, quite lost +to everything but the dreadful distress at the mischief she had wrought. +And then Phronsie came again, this time imploring, with tears--for Polly +felt quite sure that she could hear her crying--that Polly would only +open the door, "and let me see you just once, Polly!" + +And even Mrs. Cabot came, and Polly thought she should go wild to have +her stand outside there and beg and insist that Polly should come down +to them all. + +[Illustration: "ARE YOU SICK, POLLY?" CRIED PHRONSIE ANXIOUSLY.] + +"I don't want any dinner," said Polly over and over. "I just must be +alone a little while," and at last she spoke quickly to Mrs. Cabot's +persistent pleadings, "Have the goodness, Mrs. Cabot, not to call me +again." And then she was sorry the minute she had spoken the words, and +she opened her door a little crack to call after Mrs. Cabot, as she +sailed downstairs in great displeasure, "Oh! do forgive me, dear Mrs. +Cabot, for speaking so. I am very sorry, but I cannot come down just +yet." + +"I shall send you up your dinner, then," said Mrs. Cabot, only half +appeased, and pausing on the stairs. + +"No, no!" begged Polly, and she seemed so distressed at the mere +thought, that Mrs. Cabot unwillingly let her have her way about it. + +It was in the middle of the afternoon, and Polly, exhausted by weeping, +had fallen asleep just where she was, on her knees by the bed, her head +on the gay bedquilt, when a low knock on the door startled her and made +her rub her eyes and listen. + +"Polly," said a voice--it was Jasper's--"won't you undo the door? I want +to speak to you." + +"O, Jasper!" cried Polly, springing to her feet, and running over to the +door, "I can't; don't ask me--not just yet." + +"I won't ask you again," said Jasper, "if you don't wish it, Polly." + +His voice showed his disappointment, and Polly, full of dismay at the +trouble she had made for him, couldn't find it in her heart to cause him +this new worry. + +"You won't want to speak to me, Jasper," she cried, unlocking the door +with trembling fingers, "when you know what I have done." + +"What, Polly?" he cried, trying not to show how he felt at sight of the +swollen eyelids and downcast face. Meanwhile he drew her out gently into +the hall. "There, let us sit down here," pausing before the wide +window-seat; "it's quiet here, and nobody will be likely to come here." +He waited till Polly sat down, then made a place for himself beside her. + +"Jasper," cried Polly, lifting her brown eyes, now filling with tears +again, "you can't think what I've done. I've ruined your whole life for +you!" + +"How, Polly?" Jasper's face grew pale to his lips. "Oh! do tell me at +once," yet he seemed to be afraid of what she was about to say. + +"O, Jasper! I thought perhaps I could help you. I never knew till this +morning, just before you came, that you had lost your place. Mrs. Cabot +had a letter from her husband, and she told me. And I spoke to Grandpapa +and begged him to let you go back, and, O, Jasper!" here Polly's tears, +despite all her efforts to keep them back, fell in a shower, "you can't +guess how dreadfully Grandpapa feels, and he says--oh! he says that you +are to study law, and never, never go back to Mr. Marlowe." + +"Is that all?" exclaimed Jasper in such a tone of relief that Polly +sprang to her feet and stared at him through dry eyes. + +"All?" she gasped. "O, Jasper! I thought you loved your work." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +MR KING AND POLLY. + + +"So I do love my work," cried Jasper in a glow, "but, Polly," and he +sprang to his feet and walked away so that she couldn't see his face, "I +thought that you were going to say something about yourself." + +Then he turned around and faced her again. + +"O, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly reproachfully, "what could I possibly have +to say about myself! How can I think of anything when you are in +trouble?" + +"Forgive me, Polly," broke in Jasper eagerly, and he took her hand, "and +don't worry about me; I mean, don't think that what you said to +Grandpapa made any difference." + +"But indeed it did, Jasper," declared Polly truthfully; "oh! I know it +did, and I have done it all." + +"Polly--Polly!" begged Jasper in great distress, "don't, dear!" + +"And now you must give it all up and go into the law--oh! the horrid, +hateful law; oh! what will you do, Jasper?" And she gazed up into his +face pityingly. + +"I shall have to go," said Jasper, drawing his breath hard, and looking +at her steadily. "You know you yourself told me long ago to make my +father happy any way, Polly." He smiled as he emphasized the last word. + +"Oh! I know," cried Polly in despair, "but I didn't think it could ever +be anything as bad as this, Jasper." + +"'Any way' means pretty hard lines sometimes, Polly," said Jasper. +"Well, there's no help for it now, so you must help me to go through +with it." + +"And just think," mourned Polly, looking as if the shower were about to +fall again, "how I've made it worse for you with Grandpapa. O, Jasper! I +shall never be any help to you." + +"Polly!" exclaimed Jasper, in such a tone that she stopped to look at +him in astonishment. "There, now, I'll tell you all about it," he added +with his usual manner, and sitting down beside her again, "and then +you'll see that nothing on earth made any difference to father. This was +the way of it," and Jasper proceeded to lay before her every detail of +Mr. King's visit to him, and all the circumstances at the store, not +omitting Mr. Whitney's part in the affair, as shown by the letter that +Jasper had seen. + +"Oh, oh! how mean," interrupted Polly at this point, with flashing brown +eyes; "how could he?" and her lips curled disdainfully. + +"Oh! Mason thought he was doing me the greatest favor in the world, I +don't doubt," answered Jasper. "You know, Polly, he never could bear to +hear of the publishing business, and he was so disappointed when I +wouldn't go into the law." + +"I know," said Polly, "but this was dreadful, to meddle--after you had +once decided; very, very dreadful!" + +"I think so," said Jasper, with a laugh; feeling surprisingly +light-hearted, it was so beautiful to be talking it all over with Polly, +"but the trouble is, Mason don't. Well, and then came that dreadful +misunderstanding about Mr. Marlowe; that hurt me worse than all. O, +Polly! if you only knew the man," and Jasper relapsed into gloom once +more. + +"O, dear, dear!" cried Polly sympathetically, and clasping her hands. +"What can we do; isn't there anything to do?" + +"No," said Jasper, "absolutely nothing. When father once makes up his +mind about anything, it's made up for all time. I must just lose the +friendship of that man, as well as my place." With that his gloom +deepened, and Polly, feeling powerless to utter a word, slipped her hand +within his as it lay on his knee. + +He looked up and smiled gratefully. "You see, Polly, we can't say +anything to him." + +"Oh! no, no," cried Polly in horror at the mere thought; "I've only made +it a great deal worse." + +"No, you haven't made it worse, dear; but we shouldn't do any good to +talk to him about it." + +"I don't believe I could live," cried Polly, off her guard, "to have him +look at me, and to hear him speak so again, Jasper." + +Jasper started, while a frown spread over his face. "I can bear anything +but that you should be hurt, Polly," he exclaimed, his fingers +tightening over hers. + +"Oh! I don't mind it so much," cried Polly, recovering herself hastily, +"if I hadn't made mischief for you." + +"And that you never must think of again. Promise me, Polly." + +"I'll try not to," said Polly. + +"You must just put the notion out of your mind whenever it comes in," +said Jasper decidedly; "you'll promise that, Polly, I know you will." + +"Well," said Polly reluctantly, "I will, Jasper." + +"All right," exclaimed Jasper, in great satisfaction. + +"Polly--Polly." Phronsie's yellow head came up above the stairs, and +presently Phronsie came running up to them in great haste. + +"O, Polly!" and she threw her arms hungrily around Polly and hugged her +closely. "O, dear!" letting her arms fall, "I wasn't to stop a minute. +Grandpapa wants you to drive with him, Polly, and you are to go right +down as soon as you get your hat on." + +"Grandpapa!" screamed Polly, jumping off from the window-seat so hastily +that Phronsie nearly fell over, while Jasper was hardly less excited. +"Why, Phronsie, you can't mean it. He"-- + +"Father really wants you, Polly, I know," broke in Jasper, with a look +into the brown eyes. But his voice shook, and if Phronsie hadn't been so +worried over Polly, she would certainly have noticed it. + +"Polly hasn't had any dinner," she said in a troubled way. + +"Oh! I don't care for dinner," cried Polly, with another look at Jasper, +and beginning to dance off to her room for her hat. + +"But you must have some," declared Phronsie in gentle authority, going +toward the stairs, "and I shall just ask Grandpapa to wait for you to +get it. Mrs. Higby saved your dinner for you, Polly"-- + +"Oh! I couldn't eat a morsel," protested Polly from her little room, +"and don't ask Grandpapa to wait an instant, whatever you do, Phronsie. +See, I'm ready," and she ran out into the hall, putting on her hat as +she spoke. + +"Get her a glass of milk, Phronsie," called Jasper, standing by the +stair-railing; "that's a good child." + +Polly flashed him a grateful look as she dashed down the stairs, drawing +on her gloves, and not daring to look forward to meeting Grandpapa. + +But when she came out to the back piazza, Phronsie following her with +the glass, and begging her to drink up the rest left in it, old Mr. +King, standing by the little old-fashioned chaise, received her exactly +as if nothing had happened. + +"Well, I declare, Polly," he said, turning to her with a smile, "I never +saw anybody get ready so quickly as you can. There, hop in, child," and +he put aside her dress from the wheel in his most courtly manner +possible. + +"Polly hasn't had all the milk," said Phronsie, by the chaise-step, +holding up the glass anxiously. + +"Well, I don't believe she wants it," said old Mr. King. + +[Illustration: "POLLY HASN'T HAD ALL THE MILK," SAID PHRONSIE] + +"No, I don't," said Polly, from the depths of the old chaise. "I +couldn't drink it, dear." + +Mr. King bent his white head to kiss Phronsie, and then they drove away, +and left her standing in the lilac-shaded path, her glass in her hand, +and looking after them. + +All sorts of things Mr. King talked of in the cheeriest manner possible, +just as if Polly and he were in the habit of taking a drive like this +every morning; and he never seemed to notice her swollen eyelids, or +whether she answered, but kept on bravely with the conversation. At last +Polly, at something he said, laughed in her old merry fashion; then Mr. +King drew a long breath, and relaxed his efforts. + +"I declare, Polly," he said, leaning back in a comfortable way against +the old cushion, and allowing the neighbor's horse, hired for the +occasion, to amble along in its own fashion, "now we are so cosy, I +believe I'll tell you a secret." + +Polly stopped laughing and gazed at him. + +"How would you like to take a little journey, just you and I, +to-morrow?" he asked, looking down into her face. + +"A journey, Grandpapa?" asked Polly wonderingly. + +"Yes; about as far as---say, well, to the place where Jasper has been +all winter. The fact is, Polly," went on Mr. King very rapidly, as if +with the fear that if he stopped he would not be able to finish at all, +"I want you to look over the ground--Jasper's work, I mean. It seems an +abominable place to me--a perfectly abominable one," confided the old +gentleman in a burst of feeling, "but there," pulling himself up, "maybe +I'm not the one to say it. You see, Polly, I never did a stroke of work +in my life, and I really can't tell how working-places ought to look. +And I suppose a working man like Mr. Marlowe might be different from me, +and yet be a decent sort of a person, after all. Well, will you go?" he +asked abruptly. + +"O, Grandpapa!" cried Polly, aghast, and turning in the chaise to look +at him with wide eyes. + +"Yes, I really mean it," nodded old Mr. King, in his most decided +fashion, "although I don't blame you for thinking me funny, child." + +"I was only thinking how good you are Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly +fervently, and creeping up close to his side. + +"There--there, Polly, child," said the old gentleman, "no more of that, +else we shall have a scene, and that's what I never did like, dear, you +know. Well, will you go with me--you haven't said yes yet." + +"Oh! yes, yes, yes," cried Polly, in a rapturous shout, not taking her +glowing eyes off from his face. + +"Take care, you'll scare the natives," warned old Mr. King, beaming at +her. "Brierly folks couldn't have any such transports, Polly," as they +turned down a shady lane and ambled by a quiet farmhouse. + +"Well, they ought to," replied Polly merrily, peering out at the still, +big house. "O, Grandpapa! I just want to get out and jump and scream. I +don't feel any bigger than Phronsie." + +"Well, I much rather have you here in this carriage with me," said the +old gentleman composedly. "Now that's settled that we are going, Polly. +Of course I asked the doctor; I sent down a letter to him after dinner, +to ask if your arm would let you take a little journey with me, and of +course he said 'yes,' like a sensible man. Why shouldn't he, pray +tell--when we were all going home in a day or two? Now, of course, that +must be postponed a bit." + +"Never mind," Polly hastened to say, "if Jasper is only fixed up." + +"Now, Polly," Mr. King shifted his position a bit, so that he might see +her the better, "perhaps Mr. Marlowe won't take Jasper back. Judging +from what I know of the man, I don't think he will," and the old +gentleman's face, despite his extreme care, began to look troubled at +once. + +"Oh! maybe he will," cried Polly warmly. "Grandpapa, I shouldn't wonder +at all--he must!" she added positively. + +"I don't know, Polly," he said, in a worried way. "I think it's very +doubtful; indeed, from what I know of business now, I don't believe at +all that he will. But then, we can try." + +"Oh! we can try," echoed Polly hopefully, and feeling as if, since God +was good, he would let Jasper back into his chosen life-work. + +"Well, we'll start early to-morrow morning on our little trip, Polly," +said the old gentleman, catching her infectious spirit, and giving the +old horse a fillip with the whip. "Meantime, not a word, my dear, of our +little plan!" + +So Polly promised the deepest secrecy, and that no one should even have +a hint from her looks, of what Grandpapa and she were to do. + +And the next morning, although everybody was nearly devoured by +curiosity, no one dared to ask questions; so old Mr. King and Polly, +with two well-filled portmanteaus, departed for a journey of apparently +a few days; and Polly didn't dare to trust herself alone with Jasper, +but ran a race with him around all the angles of the old farmhouse, +always cleverly disappearing with a merry laugh when there was the least +chance of his overtaking her and cornering her for an explanation. + +And Pickering Dodge, in his invalid chair drawn close to the window, +heard the merry preparations for the journey, and fretfully declared +"that people seem to be happy, with never a thought for a poor dog like +me," while old Mr. Loughead, who, despite Doctor Bryce's verdict, had +never seemed quite well enough in his own estimation for his departure +from the "Higby hospital," on the contrary brightened up, exclaiming, +"Now, that is something like--to hear Miss Polly laugh like that--bless +her!" + +"Good-by, Pickering," said Polly, coming into his room, old Mr. King +close behind; "I am going away with Grandpapa for a day or two," and she +came up in her traveling hat and gown close to his chair. + +"So I heard," said Pickering, lifting his pale face, and trying to seem +glad, for Polly's joy was bubbling over. But he made rather a poor show +of it. + +"Good-by to you, my boy," said Mr. King, laying a soft palm over the +thin fingers on Pickering's knee. "Now see that you get up a little more +vigor by the time we are back. Goodness! all you want is a trifle more +backbone. Why, an old fellow like me would beat you there, I do believe. +I am surprised at you," cried the old gentleman, shaking his fingers at +Mr. Loughead, with whom he was on the best of terms, but never feeling +the necessity to weigh his words, "that you, being chief nurse, don't +set up with that boy and make him get on his feet quicker." + +"So I could do," cried old Mr. Loughead, whose chief object in life +since Pickering had been pronounced out of danger, had been to browbeat +the trained nurse, and usurp the authority in Pickering's sick-room, "if +Mrs. Cabot would keep out, or take it into her head to return home. To +state it mildly," continued the old gentleman, not lowering his tone in +the least, "that lady doesn't seem to be gifted with the qualities of a +nurse. Providence never intended that she should be one, in my opinion." + +"Don't tell him to bully me worse than he does," cried Pickering. "He +shows a frightful hand when he wants his own way." + +"That's it," cried old Mr. King delightedly; "only just keep it up. +You'll get well fast, as long as you can fight. Come on, Polly, my girl, +or we shall be late for the train." + +The evening before, Jack Loughead ran up the steps to Miss Salisbury's +"Select School for Young Ladies," and pulled the bell hastily. + +Amy ran down as quickly to the little room where she was always allowed +to see her brother. + +"Well, Amy, child," cried Jack, when they had gone through with the +preliminaries always religiously observed on his visits: how she had +progressed in her music under the new teacher Miss Pepper had +recommended during her enforced absence, and how far she had pleased +Miss Salisbury, and all the other things an elder brother who had come +to his conscience rather late, would be apt to look into. "And so you +really think you are getting on in your practice?" + +"O, yes, Jack!" cried Amy confidently. "Come and see; I've a new +Beethoven for you," and she laid hold of his arm with eager fingers. +"Now, you'll be immensely surprised, Jack--immensely." + +"No doubt, no doubt," answered Jack hastily, and not offering to get up +from the sofa, "but you needn't play it now." + +"Why, Jack," cried Amy, no little offended, "what's the matter? You've +asked me regularly to play you my pieces, and now to-night when I offer +to, you won't have any of it," and she began to pout. + +"That's shabby in me," declared Jack, with remorse; and getting off the +sofa, to his feet, he dutifully spread the music on the rack, and paid +his little sister such attention, that she was soon smilingly launched +into the new piece, and lost to everything else but her own melody. + +"That's fine!" pronounced Jack, as Amy declared herself through, and +whirled around on the music-stool for his applause. But his heart wasn't +in it, and Amy's blue eyes soon found it out. + +"You're not a bit like yourself to-night, Brother Jack," she cried, with +another pout and staring at him. + +"You're right; I'm not, Amy," declared Jack. "Come over to the sofa, and +I'll tell you about it." + +So the two turned their backs on the piano; and pretty soon, Amy, her +hand in her brother's big brown palm, was nestled up against him, and +hearing a confidence that made her small soul swell with delight. + +"Amy," said Jack, putting his arm closer around her, "when Miss Pepper +had the courage to tell me of my duty to you, I made up my mind that you +should never want for anything that my hand could supply." + +"And I never have," cried little Amy, poking her head up from its nest +to look at him. "All the girls say you are just splendid to me; that +they never saw such a brother; and I don't believe they ever did, Jack," +she added proudly. + +"So now, what I am about to do," said Jack, speaking with great effort, +"isn't to bring anything but the greatest happiness to you, Amy, as well +as to me. If only I can secure it!" he added under his breath. + +"What are you going to do, Jack?" demanded Amy, springing away from him +to stare into his bronzed face. "Oh! I know; you are going to Europe +again, and will take me this time--oh! goody, goody!" She screamed like +a child, clapping her hands gaily. + +"Hush, Amy," cried Jack, trying to speak lightly, "or Miss Salisbury +will come in, and send me off, saying I spoil your manners. There, come +back here to me; I can talk better then," and he drew her to his side +again. "No, it is something much more beautiful than any trip to Europe +would be." + +"It can't be. Jack," cried Amy positively, and burrowing her sunny head +into his waistcoat. + +[Illustration: AMY.] + +"Listen--and don't interrupt again," said her big brother. "Amy--how can +I tell it? Amy, if Miss Pepper will--will marry me, I will bless God all +my life!" + +This time Amy sprang to the middle of the floor of Miss Salisbury's +small reception-room. "Marry you, Brother Jack!" she screamed. "Oh! how +perfectly elegant! It's too lovely for anything--oh! my darling Miss +Pepper," and so on, till Jack couldn't make her hear a word. + +"Amy--Amy," at last he said, getting up to her, to lay an imperative +hand on her arm, "what would Miss Pepper say--don't get so excitable, +child--to see you now? Do hush!" + +"I know it," said Amy, stopping instantly, and creeping humbly back to +the sofa; "Miss Pepper was always telling me how to stop screaming at +everything I liked; and not to cry at things I didn't like," she +confessed frankly. + +"Well, then, if you love her," said Jack, going back to sit down by her +again, "you will try to do what she says. And you do love her, I am +quite sure, Amy." + +"I love her so," declared Amy, "that I would do any and everything she +ever asked me to, Brother Jack." + +"I thought so," said Jack. "Well, now, Amy, I must tell you that I went +to see Mrs. Fisher to-day, to ask her if I may speak to Miss Pepper. And +she gives me full permission; and so I shall go to Brierly to-morrow, +and try my fate." + +"It won't be any trying at all," cried Amy superbly, and stretching her +neck to look up with immense pride at her tall brother. "She can't help +loving you, Jack! Oh! I am so happy." + +Jack Loughead's dark face had a grave look on it as he glanced down at +her. "I hope so," he said simply. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THAT SETTLES MANY THINGS. + + +"It's perfectly dreadful," cried Alexia Rhys, wrinkling her brows, "to +try to get up anything with Polly away. If we only had Joel to help us, +that would be something"-- + +"Well, it's got to be done," said Clem Forsythe, in a matter-of-fact +way. + +"Of course it has," cried Alexia gustily. "Dear me," in a tone of +horror, "did you suppose that we'd let Polly Pepper go on year after +year getting up perfectly elegant things for us, and then we not +celebrate for her, when she comes home, and with a broken arm, too? The +idea, Clem!" + +"Well, then I think we much better set to work to think up something," +observed Clem wisely, "if we are going to do anything." + +"We can't think of a single thing--not one," bemoaned Alexia; "it will +be a perfectly horrid fright, whatever we get up. Oh, dear! what shall +we do, girls?" + +"Alexia, you are enough to drive anybody wild," cried Sally Moore; "it's +bad enough to know there isn't an idea in all our heads put together, +without having you tell us of it every minute. Cathie Harrison, why +don't you say something, instead of staring that wall out of +countenance?" + +"Because I haven't anything to say," replied Cathie, laughing grimly and +leaning back in her chair resignedly. "Oh, dear! I think just as Alexia +does, it will be utterly horrid whatever we do." + +"Don't you be a wet blanket," cried two or three of the girls, "if +Alexia is. Oh, dear! Miss Chatterton, you are the only one of sense in +this company. Now do give us an idea," added one. + +"I don't know in the least how to help," said Charlotte Chatterton +slowly, and leaning her elbows on her knees she rested her head in her +hands. "I never got up a play or tableau, nor anything of the kind in my +life; and we never celebrated anything either; there was never anything +to celebrate--but I should think perhaps it would be better not to try +to do great things." + +"Why, Miss Chatterton," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, in great disapproval, and +starting forward in the pretty pink-trimmed basket chair. "I'm perfectly +surprised at you--nothing can be too good for Polly Pepper. We must get +up something perfectly magnificent, or else I shall die!" she cried +tragically. + +"Nothing can be too good for Polly," repeated Charlotte, taking her head +out of her hands and looking at Alexia, "but isn't it better not to try +to be too grand, and have something simple, because, whatever we do, +Polly must always have had things so much nicer." + +"In other words, it's better to hit what you aim at, than to shoot at +the clouds and bring down nothing," said Clem sententiously. + +"Yes--yes, I think so," cried Cathie, clapping her hands; "it's awfully +vulgar to try to cut a dash--that is, if you can't do it," she added +quickly. + +[Illustration: "NOTHING CAN BE TOO GOOD FOR POLLY PEPPER!" CRIED ALEXIA, +STARTING FORWARD.] + +"Don't say 'awfully,'" corrected Alexia, readjusting herself in her +pink-and-white chair. "Well, I suppose you are right, Miss Chatterton; +you're always right; being, as I said, a person of sense." + +Charlotte gave a short laugh, but with a little bitter edge to it. Why +would the girls who now seemed to be so glad to have her in the center +of all their plans, persist in calling her Miss Chatterton? It gave her +a chill every time, and she fairly hated the name. + +"And now since we are going to follow your advice," went on Alexia, "be +so good as to tell us a little bit more. Now what shall we do in the way +of a simple, appropriate fandango--a perfect idyl of a thing, you know?" + +"Well," said Charlotte quietly, "you know in the olden time at +Christmas"-- + +"But this isn't Christmas," cried Alexia, interrupting with an uneasy +gesture. + +"Do be still," cried the other girls, pulling at her, "and let Miss +Chatterton finish"-- + +"At Christmas ages ago, when special honor was done to entertain the +King wherever he was lodged," went on Charlotte, "there was a Lord of +Misrule, who gathered together a company of ladies and gentlemen, who +rummaged the old castles for grotesque costumes and furbelows. And then +masked, they all came in and marched before the King, and danced, +oh--everything--we might have Minuets and Highland Flings, and all the +rest. And they did everything the Lord of Misrule directed, and"-- + +"Charlotte Chatterton, you are a jewel!" cried Alexia, tumbling out of +her chair, and flying at her, which example was followed by all the +other girls. + +"Thank you," cried Charlotte, with glistening eyes. + +"Thank you? I guess we do thank you," cried Sally Moore heartily, "for +getting us out of this scrape." + +"Oh! I don't mean that," said Charlotte indifferently, "I mean because +you called me by my first name, the same as you girls always talk to +each other." + +There was a little pause. "Oh! we didn't know as you'd like it," broke +in Alexia hastily, "you are so tall, and you never seem in a hurry, nor +as if you cared a straw about being like a girl, and we didn't dare. But +now, oh, Charlotte--Charlotte!" And she gave her a hug that well repaid +Charlotte for all the past. + +"That's a regular bear-hug," she cried at last, releasing her and taking +a long breath, "and equal to a few dozen common every-day ones." + +"If Charlotte can breathe after that," said Clem, turning on Charlotte a +pair of glowing eyes, "she'll do well. We are just as glad to call you +Charlotte, aren't we, girls," whirling around on the group, "as Alexia, +for all her bear-hug." + +"Yes--yes," cried the whole bevy. + +"Well, now, girls," said Alexia, running over to give Clem a small +shake, "let's to business. There isn't any time to waste. Charlotte +Chatterton, will you tell us the rest of it, and who will be the Lord of +Misrule?--dear me, if we only had Joel here!" + +"I think Doctor Fisher would be the Lord of Misrule," said Charlotte; +"he said he'd do anything we wanted of him, to help out." + +The girls one and all gave a small howl, and clapped their hands, +crying, "Capital--capital!" + +"Let's go and ask him now!" cried Alexia, who wasn't anything if not +energetic; and running to her closet, she picked off her hat from the +shelf and tossed it on her head. "Oh, how slow you are, girls--do +hurry!" as the others flew to the bed where their different head-gear +had been thrown. + +"But it's his office hours," said Charlotte, hating in her new-found +happiness at being one with the girls, to put a damper on their plan. + +"Bother! supposing it is," exclaimed Alexia, in front of her +pink-and-white draped mirror, while she ran the long hat pins through +her fluffy hair, "it's as important to take care of us girls, as if we +were a lot of patients. We shall be, if we don't get this fixed. Come +on, girls!" she seized a lace scarf from some mysterious corner, and +pranced to the door, shaking her gloves at the group. + +"I don't think we ought to go, now," said Charlotte distinctly, not +offering to join the merry scramble for the wearing apparel on the bed. + +"Charlotte Chatterton!" cried Alexia, thoroughly annoyed, "aren't you +ashamed of yourself? Don't listen to her, girls, but come on," and she +ran out to the head of the stairs. + +The other girls all stopped short. + +"I don't think Polly would like it, and it isn't right," said Charlotte, +hating to preach, but standing her ground. At this Alexia, out in the +hall, came running back. + +"Oh! dear--dear, it's perfectly dreadful to be with such good people! +There, now, Charlotte, don't look like that," rushing up to the tall +girl and standing on tiptoe to drop a kiss on the sallow cheek--"we +won't go; we'll stay at home and be martyrs," and she began to tear off +her hat with a tragic air. + +"Why not go to Madam Dyce's and ask her to loan us some of her old +brocades and bonnets?" proposed Cathie Harrison suddenly. "She's got a +perfect lot of horrible antiques." + +"The very thing!" cried Alexia, the others coming in as chorus. + +Charlotte Chatterton rushed as happily as any of them for her walking +things. "And then Doctor Fisher's office hours may be over, and we may +stop there on our way home," she cried. + +Doctor Fisher's office hours were not only over, but the little doctor +assured one and all of the eager group that precipitated themselves upon +him, that nothing would give him greater delight than to be a Lord of +Misrule at the celebration to be gotten up for the home-coming. + +"And it's a very appropriate way to celebrate, my dears," he said, +beaming at them over his large spectacles; "for it will be for the +coming of the King; King by name as well as nature," and he laughed +enjoyably at his own pun. "And I'm sure nobody ever did rule his kingdom +so well as our Grandpapa. So let's have a splendid mummery, or masquing, +or whatever you call it; and in my opinion, you were very smart to think +it up." + +Thereupon Alexia pulled Charlotte Chatterton unwillingly into the center +of the group that surrounded the little doctor. "We didn't; it was all +Charlotte," she said. + +Doctor Fisher took a long look at the pink spot on Charlotte's sallow +cheek, and into her happy eyes, then he turned and surveyed the bevy. + +"We'll have a good time, my dears," he said. + + * * * * * + +"Now, Polly," exclaimed old Mr. King, drawing her back an instant before +stepping into Farmer Higby's big carryall, waiting at the station as the +train came in, "you mustn't even look as if you had any secret on your +mind--oh, come now, that won't do, my dear," turning her around to +study the dancing eyes and rosy cheeks. "I can't take you home looking +like that, I really can't, my dear." + +Polly tried to pull down her face, but with such poor success that the +old gentleman sighed in dismay. + +"Well, you must be careful to keep away from everybody as much as you +can," he whispered, as he helped her into the ancient vehicle, "and +whatever you do, don't say much to Jasper, or you'll surely let the +whole thing out," and he got in beside her. "There, drive on, do, Mr. +Higby." + +"You'll tell Jasper that he is to go back to Mr. Marlowe?" Polly leaned +over and was guilty of whispering behind Farmer Higby's broad back. "Oh, +Grandpapa! you won't keep him waiting to know that, will you?" she begged +anxiously. + +"No; that shall be at once, as soon as I see my boy," replied the old +gentleman; "but, the rest, Polly; how Mr. Marlowe is coming to look in +upon us at our own home, and to meet us the very evening we +arrive--that's to be kept as dark as possible." + +"Yes, indeed," cried Polly, getting back into her own corner with a +happy little wriggle, all unconscious of Grandpapa's conspiracy with +Mother Fisher in regard to the home-coming. + +"For if I can't have the surprise party I started for," declared the old +gentleman to himself, "I'll have a jollification at the other end." So +he had telegraphed to Mrs. Fisher an additional message to his many +letters, all on the same subject--"Have what celebration you like, and +invite whom you like. And let it be gay, for the College boys have got +leave, and they bring a friend." + +And at such intervals when he could take his mind from Jasper and his +affairs, it afforded Mr. King infinite delight to tap a certain letter +in his breast pocket, that opened, might have revealed in bold +characters, a great deal of gratitude for his kindness in inviting the +writer on with Joel, which was gladly accepted and signed Robert +Bingley. + +"Where's Jasper?" said Mr. King, as he and Polly got out of the carryall +into the bustle of the farmhouse delight over their return. + +"He's gone fishing with Phronsie," said Mrs. Cabot; "we didn't any of us +expect you till this afternoon." + +"Goodness me! couldn't they go fishing any other day?" cried the old +gentleman irascibly. "Well, I suppose there's no help for it. Ah! +Loughead, that you?" extending a cordial hand to the tall figure waiting +at the end of the porch till the family greetings were over; "glad to +see you." + +But Jack Loughead had no eyes for anybody but Polly's happy face; and he +barely touched the extended palm, while he mumbled something about being +glad to be there; then awkwardly stood still. + +Mrs. Cabot, who evidently did not regard him in the friendliest of +lights, turned her back upon him, keeping her arm around Polly. +"Pickering is waiting to see you," she said, and trying to draw her off. + +"I'll come in a minute," said Polly, breaking away from her, and taking +a step toward Jack Loughead. + +"How do you do?" she said, putting out her hand. + +Jack Loughead seized it eagerly. "May I see you--just now?" he asked in +a quick, low voice. "I have your mother's permission to tell you +something"--- + +"From Mamsie," cried Polly, her beaming face breaking into fresh smiles; +"yes, indeed, Mr. Loughead." + +"About--myself," stumbled Jack truthfully, "but your mother gave me +permission to speak to you. Will you go down the lane, Miss Pepper, +while I can tell you?" + +[Illustration: HE WALKED OFF, LEAVING POLLY ALONE IN THE LANE] + +So Polly, despite Mrs. Cabot's calls "Come, Polly," nodded to Grandpapa, +who said, "All right, child, don't be gone long," and moved off with +Jack Loughead "down the lane," fresh with spring blossoms and gay with +bird songs. + +"I don't know how," said Jack Loughead, after a moment's pause, during +which Polly had lifted her face to look at him wonderingly, "to tell +you. I have never been among ladies, and my mother died when I was +fifteen; since that I have been working hard, and known no other life. +You have been so kind to Amy," he said suddenly, as if there were a +refuge in the words. + +"Oh, don't put it that way," cried Polly, full of sympathy, "Amy is a +dear little thing; I am very fond of her." + +He turned glad eyes on her. "Yes, I know. And when you spoke to me and +showed me my duty, I"-- + +"Oh!" cried Polly, with cheeks aflame, "don't make me think of that +time. How could I speak so, and to you, who know so much more of duty +than I ever could imagine? Pray forget it, Mr. Loughead," she begged. + +"I can't," said Jack Loughead gravely, "for it was the kindest thing I +ever supposed one could say to another--and then--I from that +time--loved you, Miss Pepper!" + +Polly Pepper stopped short in the lane. "Oh, don't--don't!" she begged, +and covered her face with her hands. + +"I must tell you," said Jack Loughead, still gravely, and standing +quietly to look at her; "and I have come to ask you to marry me." + +"Oh!" cried Polly again, and not daring to look at him, "I am so sorry," +she cried, "I wouldn't hurt you for all the world, Mr. Loughead." + +"I know it," he said, waiting for her to finish. + +"For--for, I do like you so much--so very much," cried poor Polly, +wishing the birds wouldn't sing so loud. "You have taught me so much, +oh, so much, I can't tell you, Mr. Loughead, about being true and noble, +and"-- + +He waited patiently till she began again. + +"But I couldn't marry you; oh, I couldn't," here Polly forced herself to +look at him, but her head went down again at sight of his face. + +"You sha'n't be troubled," said Jack Loughead gently, "I'll take myself +out of the way, and make all excuses at the house." + +[Illustration: "MY! WHAT A SIGHT OF FISH! EXCLAIMED MRS. HIGBY, DROPPING +TO HER KNEES BESIDE THE BASKET.] + +"Oh! do forgive me," Polly sprang after him, to call. + +He turned and tried to smile, then walked off, leaving Polly standing in +the lane. + + * * * * * + +"Jasper," said Mrs. Cabot in great irritation, when Jasper and Phronsie +wandered into Mrs. Farmer Higby's neat kitchen a half-hour later, with +torn garments and muddy shoes, "they got home while you were away, and +that tiresome Mr. Loughead came a little before them; and he made Polly +go to walk with him; actually made her!" Mrs. Cabot leaned her jeweled +hands on Mrs. Higby's spotless pine table, and regarded him in great +distress. + +Jasper bent his broad straw hat over the basket of fish a minute. + +"Oh!" screamed Phronsie, clapping grimy little hands and darting off, +"have they come?" + +"My! what a sight of fish," exclaimed Mrs. Higby, getting down on her +knees before the basket. "Now I s'pose you want some fried for dinner, +don't you, Mr. Jasper?" + +"Yes," said Jasper, bringing his gaze off from the fish, "I think they +better be, Mrs. Higby," and he went out of the kitchen without looking +at Mrs. Cabot. + +Up at the head of the stairs he ran against Jack Loughead. + +"It's all against me, King," said Jack unsteadily. + +Jasper lifted heavy eyes, that, all at once, held a lightning gleam. +Then he put his good right hand on Jack's shoulder. + +"I'm sorry for you," he said. + +"One thing, King," said Jack gratefully, "will you have an eye to my +uncle? He won't come with me now, but insists on going with your father +who kindly invited us both to go home with you all. And when he is +ready, just telegraph me and I will meet him at New York." + +"I'll do it gladly," said Jasper, quite shocked at Jack's appearance; +"anything more, Loughead? Do let me help you." + +"Nothing," said Jack, without looking back. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +HOME! + + +"I don't want to leave you, Mrs. Higby," said Phronsie slowly. + +Mrs. Higby looked as if she were about to throw her apron over her head +again. "You blessed child!" she exclaimed, half-crying and allowing her +hands to rest on the rim of the dish-pan. + +"You have been so very good to us," continued Phronsie, shaking her +yellow head decidedly. "I love you, Mrs. Higby, very much indeed." With +that she clasped the farmer's wife around her stout waist and held her +closely. + +"Dear--dear!" cried Mrs. Higby, violently caressing Phronsie; "you +precious lamb, you, to think I sha'n't hear you pattering around any +more, nor asking questions." + +"I've made you ever so much trouble, Mrs. Higby," said Phronsie, in a +penitent little voice, and enjoying to the fullest extent the petting +she was receiving. "And I'm so sorry." + +"Trouble!" exploded the farmer's wife, smoothing Phronsie's yellow hair +with her large red hands, "the land! it's only a sight of comfort you've +been. Why, I've just set by you!" + +"I've come in here," said Phronsie, reflectively peering around at the +spotless kitchen floor, "with muddy boots on and spoiled it; and I've +talked when you wanted to weigh out things, and make cake, and once, +don't you remember, Mrs. Higby, I left the pantry door open and the cat +got in and ate up part of the custard pudding." + +"Bless your heart!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, with another squeeze, "I've +forgot all about it." + +"But I haven't," said Phronsie, with a sigh, "and I'm sorry." + +"Well, now," said the farmer's wife, "I'll tell you how we will settle +that; if you'll come again to the farm, and give my old eyes a sight of +you, that'll make it all right." + +"You're not old," cried Phronsie, wriggling enough out of Mrs. Higby's +arms to look at the round red cheeks and bright eyes. "Oh, Mrs. Higby! +and you're just as nice!" With that she clasped her impulsively around +the neck. "And Pickering likes you too, Mrs. Higby," continued Phronsie, +"he says you're as good as gold." + +"You don't say so!" cried Mrs. Farmer Higby, intensely gratified; "well, +he's as nice a boy as ever lived, I'm sure, and I'm just as tickled as I +can be that that fever was broke up so sudden, for you see, Phronsie, +he's got the making of being a right smart man yet." + +"Grandpapa is going to have Pickering go home with us," said Phronsie, +confidentially, and edging away from the farmer's wife to facilitate +conversation. "And he's going to stay at our house with us till he gets +nice and strong." + +"Well, I'm dreadful glad of that," declared Mrs. Higby heartily, "for +that a'nt of his--well, there, Phronsie, she ain't to my taste; she is +such a making sort of woman--she comes in here and she wants to make me +do this, and do that, till I'm most out of my wits, and I'd like to take +my broom and say 'scat' as I do to the cat," and a black frown settled +on Mrs. Higby's pleasant face. + +Phronsie began to look quite grave. "She loves Pickering," she said +thoughtfully, "and when he was so bad she cried almost all the time, +Mrs. Higby." + +"Oh! she loves him well enough," answered Mrs. Higby, "but she fusses +over him so, and wants her way all the same. It would be good if she +thought somebody else knew something once in a while," and she began to +splash in the dish-pan vigorously to make up for lost time, quickly +heaping up a pile of dishes to drain on the little old tray. + +"Let me wipe them, do, Mrs. Higby," begged Phronsie eagerly, and without +waiting for the permission she felt quite sure of, Phronsie picked up +the long brown towel and set to work. + +Upstairs Jasper and his father were going over again all the incidents +of Mr. King's and Polly's trip, that the old gentleman was willing to +communicate, and Jasper, despite his eagerness to know all the whys and +wherefores, held himself in check as well as he could, scarcely +realizing that he was really to go back to Mr. Marlowe's. + +And Polly and Mrs. Cabot were busily packing, with the aid of a farmer's +daughter who lived near, while Polly, who dearly loved to do it all +herself, was forced to stand by and direct matters; and old Mr. Loughead +divided his time between stalking out to the piazza where Pickering was +slowly pacing back and forth in his "constitutional," to insist that he +shouldn't "walks his legs off," and calling Polly from her work, "just +to help me a bit, my dear"--when he got into a tight place over the +packing that he insisted should be done by none but his own two hands. + +And the whole farmhouse was soon thrown into such a bustle and ferment, +that any one looking in would have known without the telling, that "Mr. +King's family are going home." And after a day or so of all this, Farmer +Higby carried a wagon-load of trunks down to the little station, and his +wife drove the carryall, in the back of which Pickering was carefully +tucked with Mrs. Cabot, who insisted on being beside him, and old Mr. +Loughead in front--the others of the party merrily following in a large +old vehicle of no particular pattern whatever--and before anybody could +hardly realize it, the train came rushing in, and there were hurried +good-bys, and hand-shakes, and they were off--Phronsie crying as she +held to her, "I wish you were going too, I do, dear Mrs. Higby." And the +farmer and his wife were left on the platform, staring after them with +sorry eyes. + +"Well, now, Phronsie," said Mr. King, as they quieted down, and Phronsie +turned back after the last look at the little station, "I think it is +time to answer your question, so as to let you go home without anything +on your mind." + +"About Charlotte, you mean, Grandpapa?" whispered Phronsie softly, with +wide eyes, and glancing back to see that no one else heard. + +"To be sure--about Charlotte," said the old gentleman. "Well, I've +concluded you ought to have your way, and make Charlotte a gift of some +money, if you want to." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" cried Phronsie, in a suppressed scream, and having +great difficulty not to clap her hands; "oh, how good!" then she sat +quite still, and folded them in silent rapture. + +"And I'll see that it is fixed as soon as may be after we get home," +said the old gentleman, "and I'm sure I'm glad you've done it, Phronsie, +for I think Charlotte is a very good sort of a girl." + +"Charlotte is just lovely," cried Phronsie, with warmth, "and I think, +Grandpapa, that dear Mrs. Chatterton up in heaven, is glad too, that +I've done it." + +Old Mr. King turned away with a mild snort, and then not finding any +words to say, picked up the newspaper, and Phronsie, full of her new +happiness, looked out the window as the cars sped along. + +"There's Thomas!" cried Jasper, at sight of that functionary waiting on +his carriage-box as he had waited so many other times for them; now for +the jolliest of all home-comings. + +"And the girls," finished Polly, craning her neck to look out the car +window at a knot of them restlessly curbing their impatience on the +platform as the train moved into the station and--"why, Mamsie. Oh, +Jasper! how slow we are!" + +Pickering Dodge shook his long legs impatiently as he got out of his +seat. "Don't try to help me, Mr. Loughead," he said testily, as the old +gentleman offered his arm; "I'm not sick now. No, thanks, I'll go out +alone." + +Jasper now ran up, but he didn't offer to help, but waited patiently for +Pickering's slow movements as he worked his way unsteadily down the +aisle. + +"Don't stop by me," said Pickering, rather crossly, "go ahead, Jasper, +and get the fun." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Jasper, yet feeling his heart bound at the merry +din as Polly was surrounded, and the babel of voices waxed louder; for +everybody was now out of the car but Pickering and himself--"here we are +now," as they neared the car step. + +Alexia Rhys, back on the platform hanging to Polly who had one hand in +Mother Fisher's at the expense of all the other girls who couldn't get +the chance, looked up and saw Pickering Dodge, and dropping Polly's arm +she ran lightly across the stream of passengers and put out her hand. + +"How do you do, Pickering? it's so good to see you back." + +Pickering shot her an astonished glance, then he said gratefully, "Thank +you, Alexia," and he actually let her help him down the steps, which so +astonished her that it took away her breath and left her without a word +to say. + +And the rest was all bustle and confusion--Mr. King declaring it was +worse than a boarding-school--everybody talking together--and Jasper ran +off to see to the luggage for the whole party, followed by Ben trying to +help. And old Mr. Loughead had to be introduced all around, and little +Doctor Fisher tried to get them all settled in the carriages, but at +last gave it up in despair. + +"Charlotte, my girl, go and tell Polly to get in, will you?" he said, +turning to Charlotte Chatterton. "Phronsie won't stir till Polly is +settled." + +"Oh, Polly! let me drive you home; I've got my dog-cart here," cried Clem +Forsythe alluringly, and trying to pull her off as Charlotte ran up with +her message. + +"No, no," cried Sally Moore, "I brought my phaeton on purpose; you know +I did, Clem--come with me, Polly, do." + +"You'll have to get in here," called Doctor Fisher, waiting at the +carriage, "to end it." + +"Yes, I think I shall," said Polly merrily, and running to him followed +by Phronsie. "Girls, come over this evening, won't you?" she looked back +to call after them. + +"Yes, we'll be over this evening," cried the girls back again, and +Phronsie hopping in after her, the carriage-door was shut, and off they +rolled. + +And old Turner was waiting at the steps as the carriage rolled up the +winding drive, with a monstrous bouquet of his choicest blossoms for +Polly, and one exactly like it only a little smaller, for Phronsie; and +Prince came rushing out getting in every one's way and nearly devouring +Phronsie; and there was King Fisher running away on toddling feet from +his nurse to meet them, screaming with all his might; and Mrs. Fargo +with Johnny in her arms crowing with delight--all stood on the broad +stone porch. + +"Oh--oh!" cried Polly, jumping out, her cheeks aflame; "are we really at +home!" + +"Oh--oh!" echoed Phronsie, flying at them all, and trying to keep hold +of Prince at the same time. + +And there in the wide hall drawn back within the shadow of the oaken +door, were Mr. and Mrs. Whitney and Dick ready to pounce upon them in a +moment. + +And no one ever hinted a suspicion that the college boys were steaming +along as fast as they could, for the evening's festivities; and old Mr. +King appeared superbly indifferent to the fact that Mr. Marlowe was +waiting at a hotel for that hour to arrive; and everybody rushed off to +get ready for dinner, with the exception of Polly and Jasper and +Phronsie. + +"Oh! we must go in the conservatory just for a minute," begged Phronsie, +flying off on eager feet. + +"We'll only take one peep," said Polly, just as eagerly, "come on, +Jasper." + +And then Polly had to run into the long drawing-room, and just look at +her piano, and lay her fingers lovingly on the keys. + +"Don't try it with your lame hand, Polly," begged Jasper, close beside. + +"No, I won't," promised Polly, running light scales with the fingers of +the other hand. "But oh! Jasper, I do verily believe I could. My arm +feels so well." + +"Well, don't, Polly," begged Jasper again. + +"No, of course I won't," said Polly, with a little laugh, "but it won't +be many weeks, you dear"--this to the piano, as she unwillingly got up +from the music-stool, and let Jasper lead her off--"before you and I +have all our good times together!" + + * * * * * + +Polly, in a soft white gown, sat on a low seat by Mother Fisher's side, +her head in Mamsie's lap. It was after dinner, and the gas was turned +low. + +"Mamsie," said Polly, and she threw one hand over her head to clasp +Mother Fisher's strong fingers closer, "it's so good to be home--oh! you +can't think how I wanted you." + +Just then somebody looked into Mother Fisher's bedroom. + +"Oh! beg pardon," said Jasper, as he saw them. But there was so much +longing in the voice that Polly called out, "Oh! come, Jasper. May he, +Mamsie?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Fisher; "come in, Jasper." + +Jasper came in quickly and stood a moment looking down at them. "It's so +lovely to be home, Jasper," said Polly, looking up at him and playing +with her mother's fingers. + +"Isn't it?" cried Jasper, with feeling, "there never was anything so +nice! Mrs. Fisher, may I sit down by you here?" and he went over to her +where she sat on the sofa--it was the same big comfortable affair where +Joel had flung himself, when he declared he could not keep on at school; +and where Mamsie had often sat when the children brought her their +troubles, declaring it was easier to tell her everything on the roomy, +old-fashioned sofa, than anywhere else. + +"Yes, indeed!" cried Mrs. Fisher cordially, and making way for him to +sit down by her side. + +"Now isn't this nice!" breathed Polly, lifting her head out of her +mother's lap to look at him on Mamsie's other side. "Now, Jasper, you +begin, and we'll tell her all about it, as we always do, you know, when +we get home from places." + +"I want to tell her something--and to you too, Polly," began Jasper +quietly. "Mrs. Fisher--may I speak?" He leaned over and looked into the +black eyes above Polly's shining brown hair. + +"Yes," said Mother Fisher as quietly. + +"How funny you are, Jasper," cried Polly with a laugh, "asking Mamsie in +such a solemn way. There now, begin, do." + +"Polly," said Jasper, "look at me, do, dear!" + +Polly lifted her brown eyes quietly. "Why, Jasper?" + +[Illustration: "NOW, JASPER, YOU BEGIN," CRIED POLLY, "AND WE'LL TELL +MAMSIE ALL ABOUT IT, AS WE ALWAYS DO WHEN WE GET HOME!"] + +"I waited because I thought I ought," said Jasper, trying not to speak +too quickly. "It seemed at one time as if you were going to be happy, +and I should spoil it, Polly, if I spoke; but now--oh, Polly!" He put +out his hand, and Polly instinctively laid her own warm palm within it. +"Do you think you could love me--I've loved you ever since the Little +Brown House days, dear!" + +"Oh, Jasper!" Polly cried, with a glad ring in her voice, "how good you +are," and she clung to his hand across Mamsie's lap. + +"Will you, Polly?" cried Jasper, holding her hand so tightly that she +winced a bit, "tell me quickly, dear." + +"Will I what?" asked Polly wonderingly. + +"Love me, Polly." + +"Oh! I do--I do," she cried; "you know it, Jasper. I love you with all +my heart." + +"Polly, will you marry me? Tell her, Mrs. Fisher, do, and make her +understand," begged Jasper, turning to Mother Fisher imploringly. + +"Polly, child," said Mamsie, putting both arms around her, careful not +to disturb Jasper's hand over Polly's, "Jasper wants you to be his +wife--do you love him enough for that?" + +Polly, not taking her brown eyes from Jasper's face, laid her other hand +upon his, "I love him enough," she said, "for that; oh, Jasper!" + +Old Mr. King walked proudly down the long drawing-room with Polly on his +arm. Everybody was in the highest possible spirits. The Lord of Misrule +had made a triumphant entree, covering himself with glory and winning +great applause for his long train of masquers; whose costumes if not +gotten up on strict historical lines, made up any lack by the variety of +other contrivances, each one following his own sweet will in dressing. +They had gone through with the minuet and the pantomimes; and Charlotte, +in a peaked hat and a big flowered brocade gown rich with tambour lace, +had sung "like a nightingale," as more than one declared, and now the +room was in a buzz of applause. + +Old Mr. King took this time to walk up and down the long room with Polly +several times quite pompously; and once in a while the little Lord of +Misrule would rush up to them, say something very earnest, seize Polly's +hand and give it a shake and then dart away; which proceeding Joel would +imitate, at such times leaving Robert Bingley to his own devices--until +Joel, evidently struck by remorse, would as suddenly fly back and +introduce his college friend violently to right and left, to make up for +lost time. + +"That's three times you've introduced me to that girl in blue," said +Bingley, on one of these occasions, when he could get Joel aside for a +minute. "Do let me alone--I was having a good enough time where I was." + +"Did I?" cried Joel, opening his black eyes at him, "oh! beg pardon," +and off he rushed at Polly again. + +"How queerly they do act!" cried Alexia, to a knot of the girls. "And +just look at Mr. King, he holds on to Polly every minute--I'm going to +see what it's all about." + +So she hurried across the room as fast as her high-heeled slippers would +let her. "Polly--Polly, did you really like it all?" she asked +breathlessly. "Oh! dear me, this ruff will be the death of me," picking +at it with impatient fingers. + +"Don't, Alexia," cried Polly, "it's so pretty--it was all just as fine +as could be, and splendidly gotten up!" + +"Well, it nearly killed us," declared Alexia, fanning herself violently, +"and this old ruff will end me. There!" and she made a little break in +the starched affair under her chin, "that's one degree less of misery." + +"What would Queen Bess do to you?" cried Polly, saying the first thing +that came in her head, to keep off questions she saw trembling on +Alexia's tongue. + +"Queen Bess was an old goose to wear such a thing," retorted Alexia. +"Oh, Polly! do come with us. Let her, do, Mr. King," to the old +gentleman who made all sorts of signs that served to show he meant to +keep Polly to himself. "We girls want her now," she added saucily. + +"You keep away," said old Mr. King, with an emphatic nod and a twinkle +in his eye, "and the other girls; I'm going to have Polly tonight; you +can come over in the morning and see her." And he moved off coolly, +carrying Polly with him. + +[Illustration: "POLLY, DO COME WITH US!"] + +Alexia stood a moment transfixed with astonishment. "Joel--Joel, what is +it?" she cried in a stage whisper, as that individual pranced by in one +of his fits of remorse looking up Bingley. "Do tell me what's come over +Polly, and why does Mr. King act so queerly?" + +Joel flashed her a smile, but wouldn't say anything, and his eyes +twinkled so exactly like Mr. King's, that Alexia lost all patience. + +"Oh! you horrid boy," she cried, and ran back dismally to the girls, +with nothing to tell. + +And Charlotte Chatterton walked as if she disdained the ground, her +peaked hat towering threateningly, while her sallow face was wreathed +with smiles; and it seemed as if she couldn't sing enough, throwing in +encores in a perfectly reckless fashion. + +"What is it? oh! I shall die if I don't know," exclaimed Alexia, over +and over. "Girls, if some of you don't find out what's going on, I shall +fly crazy!" + +And the room buzzed and buzzed with delight, the growing mystery not +lessening the hilarity. + +"That's an uncommonly fine fellow I've just been talking with," said +Mason Whitney, coming up to old Mr. King still keeping Polly by his +side; "I haven't met such a man in one spell; he's a thorough-going +intellectual chap, and he's been around the world a good deal, it's easy +to see by his fine manner. Where did you pick him up?" + +"Whom are you talking of, Mason?" asked Mr. King, in his crispest +fashion. + +"Why, that new man--Mr.--Mr.--I didn't catch the name when I was +introduced, that you invited here to-night," said Mr. Whitney, with a +little touch of the asperity yet remaining over the failure of his plan +for Jasper, and he jerked his head in the direction of Mr. Marlowe. + +"He?--oh! that's Jasper's publisher, Mr. Marlowe," said the old +gentleman, trying to speak carelessly; then he burst into a laugh at Mr. +Whitney's face. + +"Whew!" exclaimed that gentleman, as soon as he could speak, "I've got +to eat humble pie before my fourteen-year-old son Dick, and you've taken +my breath away, Polly," looking at her blooming cheeks and happy eyes, +"with that piece of news, and"-- + +"What news--oh, what news?" cried Alexia, coming up, too frantic to +remember her manners. "Please tell us girls, for we are dying to know." + +"You come away!" retorted Mr. Whitney unceremoniously, and Mr. King +laughed, and Polly shook her white fan at them as the two moved off, and +it was just as bad as ever! + +"Pickering, do you know?" at last demanded Alexia, as he leaned against +the doorway surveying the bright crowd. + +"Yes, I know enough--that is, I can guess--don't ask me." + +"Oh, what!" breathlessly cried Alexia, seizing his arm; "do tell me, +Pickering, that is a dear--oh, I thought I was talking to the girls--I +don't know what I'm doing anyway, Polly has so upset me." + +"Well, she has upset me, too, Alexia," said Pickering gloomily, "but it +isn't her fault; she couldn't help it." + +Alexia, feeling that here was coming something quite worth her while to +hear, waited patiently. + +"You all know I've loved Polly for years," said Pickering steadily; "I +made no secret of it." + +"I know it," said Alexia, full of sympathy, and not daring to breathe, +lest she should spoil it all. "Well, go on." + +"And when I was sick, I hoped that things might be different--for Polly +was sorry for me. But one day Aunt was talking about it to me, in a way +that made me mad, and I knew that Polly would be bothered awfully if she +ever got at her, so I told Polly the first chance I got, that she was +never to be sorry for me any more, for I'd made up my mind not to think +of her in that way again; which was an awful lie," declared Pickering +suddenly, standing quite erect, "for I can't help it." + +"Oh, dear--dear!" exclaimed Alexia, quite gone in sympathy, "aren't +things just shameful in the world! Of course you oughtn't to be allowed +to marry Polly, for you are not half good enough for her, Pickering," +she added frankly, "but I'm so sorry for you!" and she put out her hand +instinctively. + +Pickering took it, and held it a minute in a calm grasp, with the air of +a man considering it better to take the little, since he couldn't get +all he wanted. + +[Illustration: "And you will be my own brother, Jasper," said Phronsie.] + +"But now tell why Polly and Mr. King and all the family act so funnily?" +cried Alexia, pulling away her hand and suddenly awaking to the fact +that this important piece of news had not been made known to her. + +"Can't you see for yourself?" cried Pickering, with an impatient stare. +"Why, Alexia, where are your eyes?" which was all she could get him to +say, as Pickering walked off immediately. + +Jasper all this while seemed to find it impossible to be separated from +Mother Fisher; and together they wandered up and down the drawing-room, +Phronsie clinging to his hand. "I always longed since the Little Brown +House days, to call you Mamsie," he said affectionately, looking down +into Mrs. Fisher's face, "and now I can!" + +"And you will really and truly be my very own brother, Jasper," said +Phronsie, as they walked on. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Five Little Peppers Grown Up, by Margaret Sidney + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS GROWN UP *** + +***** This file should be named 7498.txt or 7498.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/9/7498/ + +Produced by Naomi Parkhurst, 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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/7498.zip b/7498.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bac4c93 --- /dev/null +++ b/7498.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f67a45e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #7498 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7498) diff --git a/old/5pepr10.txt b/old/5pepr10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..84aeef2 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/5pepr10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10754 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Five Little Peppers Grown Up, by Margaret Sidney +#5 in our series by Margaret Sidney + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. 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 Grown Up + +Author: Margaret Sidney + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7498] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on May 11, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS GROWN UP *** + + + + +Produced by Naomi Parkhurst, Juliet Sutherland, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +[Illustration: "WELL, AMY, CHILD, HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"] + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS GROWN UP + +BY + +MARGARET SIDNEY + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER I. POLLY GIVES MUSIC LESSONS +CHAPTER II. GETTING READY FOB CHRISTMAS +CHAPTER III. CHRISTMAS AT DUNRAVEN +CHAPTER IV. THE FESTIVITIES +CHAPTER V. BAD NEWS +CHAPTER VI. OF MANY THINGS +CHAPTER VII. PHRONSIE +CHAPTER VIII. POLLY LOOKS OUT FOR CHARLOTTE +CHAPTER IX. POLLY'S RECITAL +CHAPTER X. PHRONSIE HAS A PLAN +CHAPTER XI. THINGS ARE GETTING MIXED +CHAPTER XII. POLLY TRIES TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT +CHAPTER XIII. THE ACCIDENT +CHAPTER XIV. JOEL +CHAPTER XV. THE FARMHOUSE HOSPITAL +CHAPTER XVI. ON THE BORDERLAND +CHAPTER XVII. JASPER +CHAPTER XVIII. MR. KING ATTENDS TO MATTERS +CHAPTER XIX. MOTHER FISHER AND CHARLOTTE +CHAPTER XX. STRAIGHTENING OUT AFFAIRS +CHAPTER XXI. POLLY TRIES TO HELP JASPER +CHAPTER XXII. MR. KING AND POLLY +CHAPTER XXIII. THAT SETTLES MANY THINGS +CHAPTER XXIV. HOME! + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +"Well, Amy child, how can I help you?" +"Why, Polly Pepper, what do you mean?" +"Baby ought to have a Christmas tree," said Phronsie slowly +"Oh!" said Jack Loughead. Then he tapped his boot with his walking stick +"Joel's gone," panted Phronsie, flying back +Joel swinging a big box, rushed into Dunraven Hall +"And did we," cried Phronsie, "find it out, Polly, and spoil it all?" +"Will you?" asked Phronsie, looking down into their faces +"We don't know how to tell it, Grandpapa" +"Now do set us to work, Joel" +"Oh, you don't know how I miss those boys!" +"And please make dear papa give her the right things" +Charlotte, standing composedly in one corner of the hall +Alexia coolly read on, one arm around Polly +"My dear Alexia," cried Miss Salisbury, quite softened, "don't feel so" +"I'll not sing a note!" +"For shame, Polly, if the Little Brown House teachings are forgotten + like this" +Polly turned and waved her music-roll at them +"I'm not going to lecture you" +"Don't stop me," cried Pickering crossly +"I'm going home," declared Charlotte +"What do you say?" cried Polly +"Oh, Polly, are you hurt?" +Old Mr. King drew up his chair to oversee it all +"You come along yourself, Dobbs," said Joel pleasantly +"I'll help you; I'm strong," said Charlotte. +"It's so nice, everybody is getting on so well," said Polly +Then Phronsie glanced back again, and softly jogged the cradle +"Why do you put your apron up there?" asked Phronsie in gentle reproach +"An old gentleman in my room," repeated Jasper, turning on the stairs +"Good-morning," said Mr. Marlowe; "business all right?" +"How you can sit there and laugh when Joe is in danger, I don't see," + exclaimed Percy irritably. +"Well, now I have two babies," said Mother Fisher +"I've always found," said Dr. Fisher, "that all you had to do to start a + thing, was to begin" +"Phronsie, get a glass of water; be quick, child!" +"I think it was a mean shame!" began Dick wrathfully +"Oh. why did I speak?" cried Polly over and over +"Are you sick, Polly?" cried Phronsie anxiously +"Polly hasn't had all the milk," said Phronsie +Amy +"Nothing can be too good for Polly Pepper!" cried Alexia, starting + forward +He walked off, leaving Polly alone in the lane +"My! what a sight of fish!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, dropping to her knees + beside the basket +"Now, Jasper, you begin," cried Polly, "and we'll tell Mamsie all about + it, as we always do when we get home" +"Polly, do come with us!" +"And you will be my own brother, Jasper," said Phronsie + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +POLLY GIVES MUSIC LESSONS. + + +"Miss Pepper--Miss Pepper!" + +Polly turned quickly, it was such an anxious little cry. + +"What? Oh, Amy Loughead." + +Amy threw herself up against Polly's gown. "Oh, if I may," she began, +flushing painfully. "You see my brother is coming to-morrow--I've a +letter--so if you will let me." + +"Let you what?" cried Polly, with a little laugh; "go on, Amy, don't be +afraid." + +"You see it is just this way," Amy twisted her fingers together, drew +her breath hard, and rushed on nervously; "Jack--he's my brother, you +know--promised me--I never told you--if I would only learn to play on +the piano, he'd take me to Europe with him next time, and now he's +coming to-morrow, and--and, oh! what shall I do?" + +Amy was far gone now, and she ended with a little howl of distress, that +brought two or three of the "Salisbury girls" flying in with +astonishment. + +"Go back," said Polly to them all, and they ran off as suddenly as they +had popped in, to leave Amy and the music teacher alone. + +"Now, Amy," said Polly kindly, getting down on her knees beside the girl +where she had thrown herself on the broad lounge, "you must just +understand, dear, that I cannot help you unless you will have +self-control and be a little woman yourself." + +"You told me I would be sorry if I didn't practice," mourned Amy, +dragging her wet little handkerchief between her fingers, "but I didn't +suppose Jack was coming for six months, and I'd have time to catch up, +and now--oh dear me!" and she burrowed deeper into Miss Salisbury's big +sofa-pillow. + +"Take care!" warned Polly, with a ready hand to rescue the elaborate +combination of silk and floss, "it would be a very dreadful thing if +this should get spoiled." + +Amy Loughead brought her wet cheek off suddenly. "There isn't a single +tear on it, Miss Pepper," she gasped. + +"That's very fortunate," said Polly, with a relieved breath. "Well, Amy +child, how can I help you?" She sat down now, and drew the girl's hot +little hand within her own. + +"I can almost play that horrible 'Chopin,'" said Amy irrelevantly; "that +is, I could, if--oh Miss Pepper," she broke off suddenly and brought her +flushed face very near to the one above her, "could you help me play +it--just hear me, you know, and tell me things you did, over again, +about it, if I practice all the afternoon? Could you?" + +"This evening, do you mean?" asked Polly, a trifle sharply. + +"Yes," said Amy faintly, and twisting her handkerchief. "Oh dear me, I +know you're so tired. What shall I do?" + +"But you don't understand," cried Polly, vexed with herself that she +couldn't help her annoyance from being seen. "I shall put some one else +out if I give up my evening. I have an engagement, Amy. No, I don't see +how I can do it, child; I'm sorry." And then before she knew how, she +put both arms around the little figure. "Don't cry, dear, I suppose I +must. I'll get out of the other thing. Yes, fly at Chopin, and keep your +courage up, and I'll be over at seven. Then to-morrow Brother Jack will +say 'How fine!' and off you'll go over the seas!" + +Outside, Polly, after enlisting Miss Salisbury's favor for the evening's +plan, was hurrying along the pavement, calling herself an hundred +foolish names for helping an idle girl out of a scrape. "And to think of +losing the only chance to hear D'Albert," she mourned. "Well, it's done +now, and can't be helped. Even Jasper when he hears of it, will think me +a silly, I suppose. Now to make my peace with Pickering." + +She turned down the avenue running out from the street that had the +honor to contain "Miss Salisbury's Boarding and Day School for Young +Ladies," and met face to face, suddenly, a young man, about whose joy at +meeting her, there could be no doubt. + +"Oh, Polly!" he cried, "here, let me take that detestable thing!" trying +to get the music-roll out of her hand. + +"Take care how you talk against this," cried Polly, hugging it closer. +"Indeed you shall not touch it, till you are glad that I am a music +teacher. Oh, I must tell you--I was on my way to your house because I +was afraid you wouldn't understand a note. I can't go to-night." + +"Can't go to-night?" repeated Pickering, in his astonishment forgetting +all his manners. "Why, Polly Pepper, what do you mean?" + +"Why, I must give it up," cried Polly nervously; "don't ask me--or +perhaps I ought to tell you, Pickering, then you'll see I can't help +myself." And Polly rapidly unfolded her plan for the evening, omitting +all details as to Amy's careless waste of her lessons despite all +efforts to make her practice. At the end of the recital, Pickering Dodge +came to a full pause on the sidewalk, regardless of all passers-by, and +turned a glowering face on Polly, who was forced to stand still also, +and look at him. + +"What idiocy!" he exclaimed, "to give up D'Albert for that ignoramus! +Polly, are you losing your senses?" + +"I don't know," said poor Polly, who had lost the first flush of +enthusiasm over her plan, and to whom nothing now seemed so delightful +as the sight and sound of D'Albert and his wonderful melody. "Well, it's +done, so don't tempt me to feel badly, Pickering." + +"Indeed, and it's not done," said Pickering angrily; "you made the +engagement, Polly. I never knew you to break one before," he added +stingingly. + +The tears flew into Polly's brown eyes, and every bit of color deserted +her round cheek. "Don't call it that, Pickering," she implored, putting +out her hand. + +"I shall call it just what it is," declared Pickering, in his stiffest +fashion. "It's a broken engagement, Polly Pepper, nothing more nor +less." + +"Then," said Polly, all her tears dried, "I must go with you, if you +hold me to it." She raised her head, and looked him full in the eyes. "I +will be ready," and she moved off with her most superb air, without +deigning a good-by. + +[Illustration: "WHY, POLLY PEPPER, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"] + +"Oh, Polly," cried Pickering, starting forward to overtake her, "see +here, if you very much wish it, why, of course, Polly--Polly, do look +around!" + +"What do you wish to say?" asked Polly, not looking around as he gained +her side. + +"Why, of course," cried Pickering, his words stumbling over each other, +"if you can't go, I'll--I'll give it up, and stay at home." + +"And why should you stay at home?" cried Polly, suddenly giving him a +glimpse of her face; "you've lovely seats; do ask Alexia." + +"Alexia!" exclaimed Pickering angrily. "Indeed I will not. I don't want +any one if I can't have you, Polly." He was really miserable now, and +needed comfort, so she turned around and administered it as only Polly +could. + +By the time the talk was over, she hurried off with a radiant face, and +Pickering with an expression only one remove from that of absolute +gloom, retraced his steps to lay one of "the lovely seats" for the +D'Albert concert, before Miss Rhys, for her acceptance. + +Phronsie came slowly down the hall to meet Polly as usual; this day with +one of her company white gowns on. Polly always knew when these were +donned that something unusual was to be expected from the daily routine +of the household. + +"Are you really and truly home, Polly?" asked Phronsie, taking the +music-roll to tuck it under her own arm. + +"Yes, Pet;" Polly set a kiss on the red lips. "And I am as hungry as a +beaver, Phronsie." + +"So you must be," said Phronsie, with a little sigh, "for you were so +long in coming home. Well, do hurry now, Polly." This last as Polly was +skipping over the stairs to her own room to freshen up a bit. Then +Phronsie turned into the dining-room to be quite sure that the butler +had made the belated luncheon as fine as Polly could desire it. + +"She didn't ask why I had on this gown," mused Phronsie, softly +disposing again the flowers at Polly's plate, "and it's funny, I think, +for Polly always sees everything;" and she began to look troubled at +once. + +[Illustration: PHRONSIE CAME SLOWLY DOWN THE HALL.] + +"This is just as splendid as it can be," cried Polly, coming in, and +picking up one of the roses at her plate. "Phronsie, you are just a dear +to have everything so nice," and she fastened it at her belt. "Why, dear +me! You've a fine gown on! What is going to happen?" + +"And you didn't see it," said Phronsie, a bit reproachfully, as she +gently smoothed the front breadth of mull. + +"Forgive me, dear," begged Polly. "Well, what is it, Pet? Do tell me; +for I'm dying of curiosity, as the Salisbury girls say." + +Phronsie stood up on tiptoe, and achieved Polly's ear. + +"Who do you think is coming to-night?" she whispered impressively. + +"To-night? Oh, dear me! I can't possibly guess," said Polly, beginning +to think that this one evening of all the year held supreme moments for +her. "Who is it, Phronsie? do tell me quickly." + +"Well," said Phronsie, drawing off to see the surprised delight sure to +come on Polly's face, "it's Jasper himself." + +"Not Jasper?" exclaimed Polly, quite gone with joy. "Oh, Phronsie +Pepper, you can't mean that?" + +"But I do," said Phronsie, forgetting her age, to hop up and down on the +rug, "we've a letter while you were at the school, and I wasn't to tell +you suddenly, so I put on one of my nice gowns, so you would know." + +"But how could I possibly suppose that Jasper would come now," cried +Polly, seizing Phronsie's hands to execute one of the old-time dances. +"Now I almost know he is going to stay over Christmas." + +"He is--he is!" cried Phronsie in a little scream; "you've guessed it, +Polly. And Mamsie said--she's gone down town with Grandpapa; he's going +to get tickets for the concert to-night, so that you can all go +together, even if you can't sit together, and she said that"-- + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly in dismay and she stood quite still. + +"Aren't you glad?" asked Phronsie, her joy suddenly hushed. + +"And I've done it myself--spoiled all this loveliness," cried Polly +passionately, little white lines coming around her mouth, "and Jasper +here!" + +"Oh, Polly, Polly!" Phronsie clasped her gown imploringly, "don't, +Polly." + +"I just won't go to the school," declared Polly at white heat; "I don't +care for the concert, but I'll send a note over to say that I am +detained at home." + +"What is it, Polly?" begged Phronsie, all sorts of dreadful surmises +seizing her, "do tell me, Polly, won't you?" + +"It's--nothing; you wouldn't understand, child," said Polly quickly. +"There, don't ask." + +Phronsie crept away in a grieved fashion, to be presently folded into +Polly's warm arms. "I'm bad to-day, Phronsie dear. There, Pet, now you +are all right, aren't you?" as she hugged her close. + +"I am, if you are, Polly," said Phronsie doubtfully. + +"Well, I'm all right now," said Polly, her brow clearing; "the bad has +gone at last, I hope, to stay away, Phronsie. Now I must hurry and eat +this nice luncheon you've fixed for me;" and she sprang toward the +table. + +"Don't you want to write a note first?" asked Phronsie, wondering at +Polly's strange mood, and following her to the table-edge, "you said +so." + +"No; I've given it up," said Polly, sitting down and beginning on her +chop and toast. "Bless you, dear, you've given me an orchid," glancing +down between her mouthfuls to the bouquet at her plate; "you should have +saved them all for Jasper." + +"Turner said I might have it," said Phronsie triumphantly, "and I knew +you'd give it to Jasper, so it's all right." + +"It surely shall do double duty," said Polly merrily, with a tender +glance for the orchid. "Well, how's Baby?" + +"He is very nice," said Phronsie, with a grown-up air, "and didn't cry a +bit for Mamsie. And now if you are really all right, Polly, I'll go up +to the nursery and look at him." + +"So I would," said Polly approvingly. "Yes, I'm all right; see, I'm on +my chop No. 2." + +Phronsie smiled with great satisfaction at this, and went off. At a +quarter of seven, Polly, in a storm of remonstrance from all but one, +hurried off to help poor Amy Loughead through her Slough of Despond. + +Jasper alone, just arrived for dinner, was the only one who remained +silent when the storm of disapproval broke forth over Polly and her +doings. After the first astonished exclamation, he had absolutely +refused to say anything save "Polly knows best." + +"I don't know how to thank you," said Polly out in the wide hall, where +he hurried to meet her, as she ran downstairs with her plainest walking +things on, "for I don't believe they would have let me go. I never saw +Mamsie feel so, Jasper." And now Polly could not keep the tears back. + +"She'll see it all right to-morrow," said Jasper soothingly. + +He put his hand out and grasped hers, as in the old days in the little +brown house, and Polly answered through her tears, "I know, Jasper." + +And then the maid appearing, who was to accompany her to Miss +Salisbury's, Polly came out from her tears, and said, "I'm ready, +Barbara." + +"You are not needed, Barbara," said Jasper, reaching up for his top-coat +from the oaken rack. + +"What are you going to do?" gasped Polly, her hand on the door-knob, and +glancing back. + +"Walk over with you to that center of culture and wisdom," said Jasper +coolly, close beside her now, his hat in his hand. + +"O, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly in dismay, her face growing quite pale, +"don't; you'll be late for the concert. Barbara, Barbara!" Polly looked +past him to summon the departing maid. + +"Barbara is a good girl, and understands the duty of obedience," said +Jasper laughingly. "There's no help for it, Polly; you must accept my +escort," and he opened the door. + +"But Grandpapa! he will be terribly disappointed not to have you go to +the concert with him," cried Polly, getting down the steps with a +dreadful weight at her heart. + +"I made it all right with father," said Jasper, "as soon as I heard of +your plan; and Mr. Alstyne is on his way over to take my place; at least +he ought to be in response to my note. Don't worry, Polly; come." + +"Oh! what perfectly elegant seats," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, waving her +big ostrich fan contentedly, and sweeping the audience with a long gaze. +"Everybody is here to-night, Pickering." + +"That's not so," said Pickering savagely, and bestowing a thump on his +unoffending opera hat, already reduced to the smallest possible bulk. + +"Don't spoil it," advised Alexia coolly, with a sidelong gaze at his +face. "Well, of course I mean everybody except Polly; and I'm sure, +Pickering, it isn't my fault that she didn't come; Polly always was +queer about some things." + +Pickering did not answer, but bestowed his glance on the programme in +his hand. + +"And now she is queerer than ever," said Alexia, glad to think that the +dainty blue affair on her head, she called a bonnet, was already doing +its work, as she heard a lady in the seat back of them, question if it +were not one of the newest of Madame Marchaud's creations. So she sat +more erect, and played nonchalantly with her fan. "Yes, and it's all +because of those dreadfully horrid music lessons." + +Pickering coughed, and rattled his programme ominously, which Alexia +pretended not to hear. + +"Why Mr. King lets her do it, I can't see," she went on. + +"Do stop," said Pickering shortly, and casting a nervous glance back of +her shoulder. + +"Never mind if they do hear," said Alexia sweetly, "all the better; then +they'll know we don't approve of her doing so, at any rate." + +"I do approve," said Pickering, his face flaming, "if she wants to; and +we've got to, any way, because we can't help ourselves. I do wish, +Alexia, you wouldn't discuss our friends in this public way." + +"And I don't think it is a very sweet thing to invite a girl to a +concert, and then get up a fight," said Alexia, back at him. + +"Goodness--who's fighting?" exclaimed Pickering under his brealn. + +"You are--I wish you could see your face; it's as black as a thunder +cloud," said Alexia, with the consciousness that her own was as calm as +a June morning. "And I'm sure if you don't want to attract people to our +conversation, you might at least look a little pleasanter." + +Pickering threw two or three nervous glances on either side, to prove +her words, and was by no means reassured to see the countenance of Billy +Harlow, one of his young business friends, across the aisle, suffused +with an attempt to appear as if he hadn't been a witness to the little +by-play. + +"Well, I'm morally certain I won't trouble you with another invitation +to a concert," he said, too furious to quite know his own words. + +"You needn't," said Alexia, swinging her fan with an even hand, and +still smiling sweetly, this time including in it Billy, who had no girl +with him. "I really could endure life at home better than this bliss." +And then D'Albert came on the stage, and it was the proper thing to keep +quiet, so the hostilities died down. + +Going out of the Opera House, Billy Harlow ran up to the two. "Lovely +time you've had," he said on Alexia's side, and with a little grimace. + +"Haven't I?" said Alexia back again, with the air of a martyr. Pickering +stalking along by her side, had the air of a man who didn't care what +was being said about him. + +"Just look at him now," said Alexia softly, "isn't he sweet? And fancy +my bearing it for two hours. I don't think any other girl in our set, +could." + +"Why didn't Miss Pepper come this evening?" asked Mr. Harlow curiously; +"Pickering said he'd asked her." + +"Oh! she gave it up to help some girl," said Alexia carelessly. "She's +the music teacher at Miss Salisbury's school, you know." + +"Oh! is she?" asked Mr. Harlow innocently, forgetting to mention the +daily interviews he sustained with his sisters Kitty and Grace who were +"Salisbury girls," on Miss Pepper's movements. + +"And at the last minute he asked me to take her place," said Alexia with +perfect frankness, "and I was goose enough to do it." + +"Isn't Miss Pepper going to give a Recital pretty soon?" asked Mr. +Harlow, incidentally, as they worked their way along to the entrance. + +"Yes, she is," said Alexia sharply, "at the Exeter--we can't stop her; +she says she's proud to do it, and it shows the girls' wonderful +ability; and all that sort of thing--and--and--oh dear me! after she's +once done that, she'll always be 'Miss Pepper the music teacher.' Isn't +it horrid!" + +"I believe that is our carriage," said Pickering stiffly, and without so +much as a half-glance at Billy. "Come, Alexia." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +GETTING READY FOR CHRISTMAS. + + +"Baby ought to have a Christmas Tree," said Phronsie slowly. + +"Ah--King-Fisher, how is that? Do you want a Christmas Tree?" Jasper +dropped to all-fours by the side of the white bundle in the center of +the library rug, as he propounded the momentous question. + +The Baby plunged forward and buried both fat hands in the crop of brown +hair so suddenly brought to his notice. + +"Is that the way to show your acknowledgment, sir?" cried Jasper, +springing to his feet, Baby and all. "Well, there you go--there, and +there, and there!" tossing the white bundle high in the air. + +"Goodness! what a breeze you two contrive to raise," exclaimed Joel; +"Mamsie," as Mother Fisher put her head in the doorway, "the little chap +is getting the worst of it, I tell you." + +"Joel's jealous," said Jasper, with a laugh. "Take care, King-Fisher, +that really is my hair, sir." + +Mrs. Fisher nodded and chuckled to the baby, and hurried off. + +"He didn't really mean to pull your hair, Jasper," said Phronsie in a +worried way; and getting up from the floor where she had been deserted +by the baby, she hurried over to the two flying around in the center of +the room. + +"But he does pull dreadfully, though," said Polly, laughing, "don't you, +you little King!" pinching Baby's toes as Jasper spun him past her. + +"My goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King, coming in the opposite doorway, "I +should think it was a menagerie here! What's the matter, Phronsie?" + +"Baby is pulling Jasper's hair," said Phronsie slowly, and revolving +around the two dancers, "but he really doesn't mean to, Grandpapa." + +"Oh! I hope he does," said old Mr. King cheerfully, coming in and +sitting down in his favorite chair. "I'm sure it speaks well for the +young man's powers of self-defense, if he gives Jasper a good tweak." + +"Father!" cried Jasper in pretended astonishment. "Well, King-Fisher, as +popular opinion is against me, I'll set you down again, and nurse my +poor scalp," and down went the white bundle again to the floor, Phronsie +going back to her post as nurse. + +"There's been a terrible scheme worked up since you were out, sir," +announced Joel to the old gentleman. + +"Hey--what's that?" demanded Mr. King, staring at Polly. + +"Oh! it isn't Polly this time," said Joel with a laugh. "Generally it is +Polly that sets all dreadful things going; but this time, it is some +other ringleader." + +"Then I am sure I sha'n't approve if Polly isn't in it," declared the +old gentleman flatly. + +"But I am in it, Grandpapa," Polly made haste to say. "I think it is +very, very nice." + +"That alters the case," said Mr. King. "So what is it, Joe? Out with +it." + +"It's nothing more nor less than to upset this house from top to +bottom," said Joel, "and get up a dreadful howling, tearing Christmas +Tree." + +[Illustration: "BABY OUGHT TO HAVE A CHRISTMAS TREE," SAID PHRONSIE +SLOWLY.] + +"Oh, Joe Pepper!" ejaculated Polly reproachfully, "and you've always had +such fun over our Christmas Trees. How can you!" + +"It's for Baby," cried Phronsie, with a pink flush on her cheek. "He's +never seen one, you know, Grandpapa." + +"No, I should think not," said the old gentleman, looking down at the +white bundle. "Well, and so you want a Christmas Tree for him, Phronsie +child?" + +"I think we ought to have one," said Phronsie, "because you know, he's +never, never seen one. And we all have had so many beautiful Trees, +Grandpapa." + +"To be sure, to be sure," said Mr. King. "Well now, Phronsie child, come +here and tell me all about it," and he held out his hand. + +Phronsie cast an anxious glance at the bundle. "Can I leave him, +Grandpapa?" she asked. + +"Leave him? Mercy, yes; it does babies good to be left alone. He'll suck +his thumbs or his toes." + +"I'll stay with him," said Polly, running out of her corner to get on +her knees before the baby. "There now, sir, do you know what a blessed +old care you are?" smothering him with kisses. + +"Yes, I really think we ought to have a Christmas Tree," Phronsie was +saying, "Grandpapa dear," huddling up against his waistcoat as usual. + +"Then we surely will have one," declared old Mr. King, "so that is +settled. Do you hear, young people," raising his voice, "or does that +little scamp of a baby take all your ears?" + +"We hear, Grandpapa," said Polly from the floor, "and I'm very glad. It +will be good fun to get up a Christmas Tree." + +"Seeing you never have had that pleasing employment," said Jasper +_sotto voce_, on the rug before the fire. + +"Never mind; it'll be just as good fun again," said Polly. + +"And not a bit of work--oh, no!" + +"Don't throw cold water on it," begged Polly under her breath, while the +baby scrambled all over her, "don't, Jasper; Phronsie has set her heart +on it." + +"All right; but I thought you wanted every bit of time to get ready for +your Recital, and the other things; and then, besides, there's +Phronsie's performance down at Dunraven." + +"Well, so I did," confessed Polly, with a sigh, "but I can get the time +some way." + +"Out of 'the other things,'" said Jasper grimly. "Polly, you'll have no +fun from the holidays. It isn't too late to stop this now." He darted +over toward his father. + +"Jasper!" cried Polly imploringly. + +"What is it, my boy?" asked Mr. King, quite deep in the plans for the +Tree, Joel having added himself to their company. + +"Oh, nothing; Polly wants it, and we must make it a good one," said +Jasper, rather incoherently, and beginning to retreat. + +"Of course it will be a good one," said his father, a trifle testily, +"if we have it at all. When did we ever get up a poor Tree, pray tell?" + +Polly drew a relieved breath, and gathering the baby up in her arms, she +hurried over to the old gentleman's chair with a "Now when do you want +to have the Tree, Phronsie?" + +"Must we have it Christmas Day?" asked Phronsie, looking at her +anxiously. + +"Christmas Day? Dear me, no! Why, what would the Dunraven children do, +Phronsie, if you took that day away from them?" cried old Mr. King in +astonishment. + +Phronsie turned slowly back to him. "I thought perhaps we ought to let +Baby have the Tree Christmas Day," she said. + +"No, indeed," again said Mr. King. "Come here, you little scamp," +catching the baby out of Polly's hand, to set him on his other knee; +"there now, speak up like a man, and tell your sister that you are not +particular about the time you have your Tree." + +"Ar--goo!" said the Fisher baby. + +"That's it," said the old gentleman with approval, while the others +shouted. "So now, as long as your brother says so, Phronsie, why, I +should have your Tree the day before Christmas." + +"Oh, Polly wants to go"--began Jasper. + +"Ugh!" cried Polly warningly to him. "Yes, Phronsie; you much better +have it the day before, as Grandpapa says." + +"And you don't suppose Baby will feel badly afterwards when he gets +bigger, and cry because we didn't give him Christmas Day," said +Phronsie, "do you, Grandpapa?" + +"Indeed, I don't," declared the old gentleman, pinching the set of pink +toes nearest to his hand; "if he does, why, we'll all let him know what +we think of such conduct." + +"Then," said Phronsie, clasping her hands, "I should very much rather +not take Christmas Day from the Dunraven children, because you know, +Grandpapa, they expect it." + +"Of course they do," said old Mr. King. "Bless me! why, we shouldn't +know it was Christmas at all, if we didn't go down to Bedford and carry +it; and as for those children"-- + +The picture that this brought up, of Dunraven without a Christmas, threw +such a shadow over Phronsie's face, that Polly hastened to say +reassuringly: + +"Oh, Grandpapa! we wouldn't ever think of not carrying a Christmas to +Dunraven, would we, Pet?" and she threw her arms around Phronsie. + +"Of course not," chimed in Jasper and Joel, in a way to bring back the +smiles to the little downcast face. + +And the baby crowed, and seized Phronsie's floating yellow hair with +both hands, and they all got in one another's way to rescue it; and Mrs. +Pepper hurried in again, this time for Baby; and he was kissed all +around, Phronsie giving him two for fear he might think she was hurt; +and one of the maids popped in with "There is a gentleman in the +reception room to see Miss Mary." + +Jasper turned off with an impatient gesture. + +"I do suppose it is Mr. Loughead," said Polly, "for he wanted to come +some time and talk about Amy. O, dear! I hope I shall say the right +thing." + +"Doesn't the fellow know better than to come when we are home for the +Christmas holidays?" grumbled Joel. Jasper looked as if he could say as +much, but instead, walked to the window, and looked out silently. + +"He's very anxious about Amy," said Polly, running off to the door, +where she paused and looked back for sympathy toward her little +protege. + +"I should think he would be," grunted Joel; "she's a goose, and beside +that, she doesn't know anything." + +"O, Joe! she hasn't any father nor mother," cried Polly in distress. + +Joel gave an inaudible reply, and Polly ran off, carrying a face on +which the sunshine struggled to get back to its accustomed place. + +"Beg pardon for troubling you," said a tall young man, getting off from +the divan to meet her, as she hurried into the reception room, "but you +were good enough to say that I might talk with you about my sister, and +really I am very much at sea to know what to do with her, Miss Pepper." + +It was a long speech, and at the end of it, Polly and the caller were +seated, she in a big chair, and he back on the divan opposite to her. + +"I am glad to see you, Mr. Loughead," said Polly brightly, "and I hope I +can help you, for I am very fond of Amy." + +"It's good of you to say so," said Jack Loughead, "for she's a trying +little minx enough, I suspect; and Miss Salisbury tells me you've had no +end of trouble with her." + +"Miss Salisbury shouldn't say that," cried Polly involuntarily. Then she +stopped with a blush. "I mean, I don't think she quite understands it. +Amy does really try hard to study." + +"Oh!" said Jack Loughead. Then he tapped his boot with his +walking-stick. + +"So you really think my sister will amount to something, Miss Pepper?" +He looked at her keenly. + +Polly started. "Oh, yes, indeed! Why, she must, Mr. Loughead." + +He laughed, and bit his moustache. + +"And really, I don't think that Amy is quite understood," said Polly +warmly, and forgetting herself; "if people believe in her, it makes her +want to do things to please them." + +"She says herself she has bothered you dreadfully," said Jack, with a +vicious thrust of the walking-stick at his boot. + +"She has a little," confessed Polly, "but not dreadfully. And I do +think, Mr. Loughead, now that you have come, and that she sees how much +you want her to study and practice, she will really do better. I do, +indeed," said Polly earnestly. + +Outside she could hear the "two boys," as she still called them, and +Grandpapa's voice in animated consultation over the ways and means, she +knew as well as if she were there, of spending the holidays, and it +seemed as if she could never sit in the reception room another moment +longer, but that she must fly out to them. + +[Illustration: "OH!" SAID JACK LOUGHEAD. THEN HE TAPPED HIS BOOT WITH +HIS WALKING STICK.] + +"Amy has no mother," said Jack Loughead after a moment, and he turned +away his head, and pretended to look out of the window. + +"I know it." Polly's heart leaped guiltily. Oh! how could she think of +holidays and good times, while this poor little girl, but fifteen, had +only a dreary sense of boarding-school life to mean home to her. "And +oh! I do think," Polly hastened to say, and she clasped her hands as +Phronsie would have done, "it has made all the difference in the world +to her. And she does just lovely--so much better, I mean, than other +girls would in her place. I do really, Mr. Loughead," repeated Polly. + +"And no sister," added Jack, as if to himself. "How is a fellow like +me--why, I am twenty-five, Miss Pepper, and I've been knocking about the +world ever since I was her age; my uncle took me then to Australia, into +his business--how am I ever to 'understand,' as you call it, that girl?" + +It was impossible not to see his distress, and Polly, with a deaf ear to +the chatter out in the library, now bent all her energies to helping +him. + +"Mr. Loughead," she said, and the color deserted her round cheek, and +she leaned forward from the depths of the big chair, "I am afraid you +won't like what I am going to say." + +"Go on, please," said Jack, his eyes on her face. + +"I think if you want to understand Amy," said Polly, holding her hands +very tightly together, to keep her courage up, "you must love her +first." + +"Hey? I don't understand," said Jack, quite bewildered. + +"You must love her, and believe she's going to do nice things, and be +proud of her," went on Polly steadily. + +"How can I? She's such a little beggar," exclaimed Jack, "won't study, +and all that." + +"And you must make her the very best friend you have in all this world, +and let her see that you are glad that she is your sister, and tell her +things, and never, never scold." Then Polly stopped, and the color flew +up to the waves of brown hair on her brow. + +"I wish you'd go on," said Jack Loughead, as she paused. + +"Oh! I've said enough," said Polly, with a gasp, and beginning to wish +she could be anywhere out of the range of those great black eyes. "Do +forgive me," she begged; "I didn't mean to say anything to hurt you." + +Jack Loughead got up and straightened himself. "I'm much obliged to you, +Miss Pepper," he said. "I think I'm more to blame than Amy, poor child." + +"No, no," cried Polly, getting out of her chair, "I didn't mean so, +indeed I didn't, Mr. Loughead. Oh! what have I said? I think you have +done beautifully. How could you help things when you were not here? Oh! +Mr. Loughead, I do hope you will forgive me. I have only made matters +worse, I'm afraid," and poor Polly's face drooped. + +Jack Loughead turned with a sudden gesture. "Perhaps you'll believe me +when I say I've never had anything do me so much good in all my life, as +what you said." + +"What are those two talking about all this unconscionable time," Joel +was now exclaiming in the library, as he glanced up at the clock. "I +could finish that Amy Loughead in the sixteenth of a minute." + +Old Mr. King turned uneasily in his chair. "Who is this young Loughead?" +he asked of Jasper. + +Jasper, seeing that an answer was expected of him, drew himself up, and +said quickly, "Oh! he's the brother of that girl at the Salisbury +School, father. You know Polly goes over there to help her practice." + +"Ah!" said his father, "well, what is he doing here this morning, pray +tell?" + +"That's what I should like to know," chimed in Joel. + +"Well, last evening," said Jasper, with an effort to make things right +for Polly, "he was there when they were playing, and he seemed quite put +out at his sister." + +"Don't wonder," said Joel; "everybody says she's a silly." + +"And Polly tried to help Amy, and make the best of her. And the brother +asked if he might have a talk some time about his sister. Polly couldn't +help telling him 'yes,'" said Jasper, but with a pang at the handsome +stranger's delight as she said it. + +"A bad business," said the old gentleman irritably. "We do not want your +Lougheads coming here and taking up our time." + +"Of course not," declared Joel. + +"And I suppose he is an idle creature. Polly said something about his +traveling a good deal. It's a very bad business," repeated Mr. King. + +"Oh! he's all right in a business way," said Jasper, feeling angry +enough at himself that he was sorry at Jack Loughead's success. "He has +to travel; he's a member of the Bradbury and Graeme Company." + +"The Sydney, Australia, house?" asked Mr. King in a surprised tone. "So +you've looked him up, have you, Jasper?" + +"Oh! I happened to run across Hibbard Crane yesterday," said Jasper +carelessly, "and he gave me a few facts. That's about all I know, +father." + +And in came Polly, looking like a rose; and following her a tall young +man, with large, black eyes, whom she immediately led up to Mr. King's +chair. "Grandpapa," she said, "this is Mr. Loughead, Amy's brother, you +know"-- + +And Jasper went forward and put out his hand, as an old acquaintance of +the evening before, and Joel was introduced, and mumbled something about +"Glad to know you," immediately retreating into the corner, and then +there was a pause, which Polly broke by crying: "O, Grandpapa! I am +going to ask Amy to play at Dunraven for Phronsie's poor children. Why, +where is Phronsie?" looking around the room. + +"Oh! she went out a little while after Baby's exit," said Jasper, trying +to speak lightly. + +"Mr. Loughead thinks she'd do it, if I asked her," Polly went on in her +brightest way. "Now, that will be lovely, and the children will enjoy it +so much." + +"Isn't there anything I could do?" asked Jack Loughead, after the +Dunraven entertainment had been a bit discussed. + +Mr. King bowed his courtly old head. "I don't believe there is anything. +You are very kind, I'm sure." + +"Don't speak of kindness, sir," he said. "My time hangs heavy on my +hands just now." + +"He would like to be with his sister," said Jasper, after a glance at +Polly's face, and guilty of an aside to his father. + +"Oh!--yes," said Mr. King, "to be sure. Well, Mr. Loughead, and what +would you like to do for these poor children of Phronsie's Christmas +Day? We shall be very glad of your assistance." + +"I could bring out a stereopticon," said Jack; "no very new idea, but +I've a few pictures of places I've seen, and maybe the children would +like it for a half-hour or so." + +"Capital, capital," pronounced the old gentleman quite as if he had +proposed it. And before any one knew how it had come about, there was +Jack Loughead talking over the run down to Bedford with them all on +Christmas morning, as a matter of course, and as if it had been the +annual affair to him, that it was to all the others. + +"Quite a fine young man," said Mr. King, when Jack had at last run off +with a bright smile and word for all, "and Phronsie will be so pleased +to think of his doing all this for her poor children. Bless her! Well, +David, my man, are you back so soon?" + +"So soon, Grandpapa?" cried David, hurrying in from a morning down town +with another "Harvard Fresh," also home for the holidays. "Why, it is +luncheon time." + +"Impossible!" exclaimed old Mr. King, pulling out his watch. "Er--bless +me! the boy is right. Now, Polly, my child, you and I must put off our +engagement till afternoon. Then we'll have our Christmasing!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +CHRISTMAS AT DUNRAVEN. + + +"Grandpapa," cried Phronsie, flying down the platform, "the box of dolls +isn't here!" + +"Goodness me!" exclaimed old Mr. King, whirling around, "'tisn't +possible, child, that we've come off without that. It must be with the +other luggage." + +"O, no, Grandpapa dear!" declared Phronsie in great distress, and +clasping her hands to keep the tears back, "it really, surely hasn't +come; Polly says so." + +"Well, then, if Polly says so, it must have been left at home," said the +old gentleman, "and there's no use in my going to look over the +luggage," he groaned. + +"What's the matter?" cried Joel, rushing up, his jolly face aglow. + +"The worst thing that could possibly happen," said Mr. King irritably; +"Phronsie's box of dolls is left behind." Then he began to fume up and +down the platform, wholly lost to everything but his indignation. + +"Whew!" ejaculated Joel, "that is a miss!" and he looked down at +Phronsie, but her broad hat had drooped, the brown eyes seeking the +platform floor. "See here, Phronsie." + +Phronsie didn't speak for a breathing-space. "What is it, Joey?" then +she said, not looking up. + +"I'll go back after it; don't you worry, child." + +"Oh, but you can't," cried Phronsie, throwing her head back quickly, +"the train will come, and then you won't be here." + +"I'll take the next train; of course I can't get back for this," said +Joel, swallowing hard. "I'll bring the box all right," and he dashed +off. + +"Joel--oh, Joel!" cried Phronsie, running after him, "don't go!" she +implored. + +"Here! here! what's the matter?" cried old Mr. King, forgetting his +indignation to hurry after her. "Phronsie, wait; what is it, dear?" + +"Joel's gone," panted Phronsie, flying back, her broad hat falling off +to her shoulders, "oh, do stop him, Grandpapa dear! I'd rather not take +the dolls than to have Joel left." + +"Stop him? I can't. Bless me, here--somebody!" turning off to the little +knots of his party scattered over the platform, "where are you all?" + +Polly came running up at this, with a pale face. "Oh, Grandpapa!" she +began at sight of him. + +"Joel's gone home," announced Phronsie, clasping her hands in distress, +"after the box of dolls, and"-- + +"Joel's gone home!" echoed Polly, standing quite still. + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "oh, Polly, do stop him and bring him back." + +"She can't," cried the old gentleman; "that boy's legs have carried him +half over the town by this time. Nobody could stop him, child." + +And then, most of the little knots heard the commotion, and came +hurrying up with "What is it?" and "Oh dear, what's the matter?" in time +to hear Polly groan, "And Joe thought so much of going down to Dunraven +with us!" + +[Illustration: "JOEL'S GONE," PANTED PHRONSIE, FLYING BACK.] + +"Well, where is he?" cried Jasper, whirling around to look in all +directions; while Ben took a few long strides to peer around the +station, and David and the other "Harvard Fresh." who had been invited +to keep him company, ran, one up, and the other down, the long platform. + +"See here now," shouted old Mr. King so sharply that all the flying feet +were arrested at once, "every one of you come back! Goodness me, the +idea of the Bedford party being scattered to the four winds in this +fashion!" + +"I'd help if I could," said Mr. Hamilton Dyce, "but I really don't know +what it's all about yet." + +"Oh dear--dear!" Polly was yet wailing. Then she remembered, and threw +her arms around Phronsie who was standing quite still by her side. +"Phronsie, precious pet," and she picked up her pretty stuff gown to +kneel on the platform-floor to look into the little face, "don't feel +badly, dear. Joel will come on the next train." + +"But he won't be with us," said Phronsie slowly, and turning her brown +eyes piteously to Polly. + +"I know it," Polly smothered a sigh, "but we can't help it now. +Grandpapa is feeling dreadfully; oh, Phronsie, you wouldn't make him +sick, dear, for all the world!" + +Phronsie unclasped her hands, and went unsteadily over to the old +gentleman. "Joel will come on the next train, Grandpapa," she said. + +"Bless me, yes, of course," said Mr. King, seizing her hand; "I don't +see what we are making such a fuss for. He'll come on the next train." + +"What's the riot?" asked Livingston Bayley, sauntering up, and whirling +his walking-stick, "eh?" + +"Joel's absconded," said Mr. Dyce briefly. + +"Eh?" + +"Gone back after Phronsie's box of dolls," explained somebody else. + +"Oh dear me," cried Alexia Rhys, trying to get near Polly, "just like +that boy." She still called him that, in spite of his being a Harvard +man, "He's always making some sort of a fuss." + +"Perhaps the train will be late," suggested Mrs. Dyce, who, as Mary +Taylor, never could bear to see Phronsie unhappy. "Hamilton, if you +don't do something to help that child, I shall be sorry I married you," +she whispered in her husband's ear. + +"Late? it's late already," said Ben, pulling out his watch, "it's five +minutes past time." + +"Well, it may be our luck to have it late enough," said Jasper, with a +glance at Polly, "as it's Christmas day and a big train; so he may +possibly get here--he'll find a cabby that can make good time," he +added, with a forlorn attempt at comfort. + +Jack Loughead sauntered up and down, on the edge of the group, longing +to be of service, but feeling himself too new a friend to offer his +sympathy. + +"Who the Dickens is that cad?" asked Mr. Bayley in smothered wrath, to +Mrs. Dyce. + +"Why, don't you know? He's another friend of Polly's," said Mary Taylor +Dyce, smiling up sweetly into his face, "and he's going down to help +entertain Phronsie's poor children. Isn't he nice?" + +"Nice?" repeated Livingston Bayley with a black look at the tall figure +stalking on. "How do I know? Who is the fellow, any way?" + +But there was no time to reply. + +"Here comes the train!" cried Alexia. The warning bell struck, and the +rush of travelers from the waiting-room, began. "Oh dear me!" Then she +forgot all about her late unpleasantness with Pickering Dodge, and +running up to him, she seized his arm, "Oh, Pickering, do make the +conductor wait for that horrid boy." + +"I can't," said Pickering, "the train's late, any way. There, get on, +Alexia," putting out his hand to help her up the steps. + +"Oh, I forgot," she cried, drawing back, "that we'd had a fight. Tisn't +proper for you to help me, Pickering, and you oughtn't to ask it, till +you've begged my pardon." + +"Then it will be a long day before you receive my assistance," said +Pickering, lifting his cap, and turning on his heel at the same time. + +Jasper tried to get up to Polly's side, as she was hurrying Phronsie to +the car, old Mr. King holding fast to Phronsie's other hand, but +Livingston Bayley got there first. + +"Allow me, Miss Phronsie," he was saying, with extended hand. "'Pon me +word, it's a beastly crowd going to-day, sir." + +"She will do very well with my assistance," said the old gentleman, +still holding Phronsie's little glove. "And I suppose Christmas Day +belongs to everybody, eh, Bayley?" hurrying in. + +Polly, her foot on the lower step, turned and sent a despairing glance +down the platform, and Jasper who saw it through the crowd, fell back a +little to give a last look for Joel. + +"All aboard!" sang out the conductor, waving his hand. + +"Come--oh, come!" called Polly with a frantic gesture, from the doorway +of the car, as the train moved off. "Oh, Jasper!" as he swung himself up +beside her. + +"The next train runs down in an hour; don't feel badly, Polly," Jasper +had time to beg before they were drawn into the confusion of the car. + +But no one could pretend, with any sort of success, that Joel wasn't +missed; and Polly had all that she could do to chase away the sorrowful +expression of Phronsie's little face. And everybody tried his and her +best to make it as festive a time as possible; and the other passengers +nudged one another, and sent many an envious glance at the merry party. + +"It's Mr. King's family going down to Bedford," said the conductor to +one inquiring mind. "I take 'em every year," proudly. "He's powerful +rich; but this ain't his affair. It all b'longs to that little girl with +the big hat." Then he dashed off, and called a station; and after the +stopping and moving of the train again, he came back and sat on the arm +of the seat to finish his account. + +"You see, there was an old lady, a cousin of the old gentleman's, and +she made a will in favor of this child with the big hat." The conductor +pointed his thumb at Phronsie, leaning over Mr. King's shoulder, the +better to hear a wonderful story he was concocting for her benefit. +"Why, she's got some two or three millions." + +"What--that child?" cried the listeners, in amaze. + +[Illustration: JOEL SWINGING A BIG BOX RUSHED INTO DUNRAVEN HALL.] + +"Yes--the old lady was tough, but"--he dashed off again, called a +station, slammed the door, and was back in position in less time than it +takes to tell it--"she was took sudden, while Mr. King's folks was in +Europe, and now that child has turned a handsome old place down +yonder"--he pointed with his thumb in the direction of Bedford-- +"Dunraven Lodge, the old lady always called it, into a sort of a Home, +and she's chucked it full of children, mostly those whose fathers and +mothers are dead; and every Christmas Day Mr. King takes down a big +crowd, and"-- + +Here somebody called him off, not to be seen again till he put his head +in the doorway, and shouted "Bedford!" + + * * * * * + +Joel, swinging a big box as only Joel could, rushed into the spacious +hall at Dunraven Lodge. "How are you all!" + +Phronsie disentangled herself from a group around the big fire-place +where the long hickory logs snapped and blazed. + +"Oh, Josey!" she cried, precipitating herself into his long arms. + +"Here is the toggery," cried Joel, setting down the doll-box, while he +gathered Phronsie up in his arms. + +"And you, Josey," cried Phronsie, with a happy little hum, "you are all +here yourself," as the group left the fire, and surrounded them. + +"Well--well--well!" cried old Mr. King, lifting his head in its velvet +lounging cap from the sofa where he had been napping. "Are you really +here, Joe!" + +"Just like you," greeted Alexia, running down the broad oaken stairs. +"Here, he's come!" to Polly, appearing at the head. "We were finishing +the tree, and we heard the noise. Dear me, Joe, I should think it was a +cyclone," as she joined the group, Polly close behind. + +Joel tossed her a saucy answer, while Polly got on her tiptoes and +caught his crop of short black hair in her two hands. "Oh, Joe," she +said, dropping a kiss on it, "it was lovely in you to go back." + +Joel felt well repaid for losing the jolly run down, and the grand +_entree_ into Dunraven, his soul loved, but he covered up what he +thought, by pulling Phronsie into the middle of the hall. "Come on, +Phron," he said, "for a spin like old times." + +"See here," cried Alexia, "we ought to get back to that Tree, Polly +Pepper, or it won't be ready. Dear me, I dropped a box of frost all over +the stairs; Joel made such a noise." + +At the mere mention of such a possibility as the Tree not being ready, +everybody started; the last one in the procession, picking up the +doll-box, their movements somewhat quickened, as loud calls were now set +up above stairs, for "Polly--Polly!" + +"Come on," sang out Joel, who had paid his respects in a flying fashion +to Grandpapa's sofa, and leaping the stairs. "Goodness me, Alexia, I +should think you did spill this frost. Why didn't you go over more +ground?" + +"I don't believe we can save one bit," mourned Alexia, peering up the +stair-length, each step sparkling with myriad little frosty gems, as if +Jack Frost himself had sprinkled it with a Christmas hand. "Oh, dear, +why did you come in with such a noise, Joe Pepper?" + +"Just like a girl," said Joel; "jumps at everything and drops whatever +she has in her hand. You all go up the other stairs; I'll sweep this in +a minute, and save what I can." + +"Oh, Joe, don't stop; we want you for the Tree," begged Polly. "Phronsie +has been waiting downstairs all this time for you to come. Let one of +the maids do it;" Joe already had his head in a closet he knew of old, +opening into the big hall. + +"Give me the broom," said a voice close beside him. + +"Eh--what?" cried Joel, pulling out what he wanted--a soft floor brush. +"Oh, is that you, Loughead?" turning around. + +"I believe so," said Jack, laughing. "Here, give me the broom. I'm no +help about a Tree; I'll have the stuff up there soon," and before Joel +knew it, he was racing over the back stairs, wondering how it was he had +let that disagreeable Jack Loughead get hold of that broom. + +"It makes me think of our first Tree, in some way," said Polly softly, +with glistening eyes, looking up at the beautiful branching spruce, its +countless arms shaking out brilliant pendants, and gay with streamers +and candles, wherever a decoration could be placed, the whole tipped +with a shining star. "Oh, Bensie, can you ever forget that?" + +Ben looked down from the top of the step-ladder where he was adjusting +some last bit of ornament. + +"Never, Polly," he said, his eyes meeting hers. + +"That was so beautiful," cried Polly. "And we had it in our 'Provision +Room,' and Mrs. Henderson brought my bird over, and the other things the +last minute, and"-- + +"I had to," broke in Mrs. Henderson with a laugh, and shaking the snips +of green from her white apron, "for you and Ben would have discovered +the whole surprise. You were dreadful that day." + +"I'm glad somebody else was dreadful in those times, besides me," +observed Joel from among the branches, where he was tying on the several +presents Alexia handed to him. + +"Well, you see," said Polly, with rosy cheeks, "it was our first Tree, +and we were so afraid the children would find it out, and spoil all the +surprise." + +"And did we?" cried Phronsie, in intense excitement, emerging from the +depths of the Tree, the better to look at Polly, "did we, Polly, and +spoil it all?" + +"No, Pet," cried Polly, "you were just as good as could be." + +"I remember," said Joel, "you told us stories, Polly, in the kitchen, +and"-- + +"We tooted on our tin horns," finished David; "oh, Joe, do you remember +those horns?" + +"And that molasses candy," said Joel, smacking his lips, "I remember I +ate mine up before breakfast." + +"And did I have any?" asked Phronsie, turning from one to the other. + +"Yes, indeed, you did," answered Joel. + +"Why, did you think we'd forget you, Phronsie?" asked Polly, a bit +reproachfully. + +"And don't you remember it?" said David. + +"No," said Phronsie. "I don't; but I remember Seraphina's bonnet." + +"It was trimmed with some of Grandma Bascom's chicken's feathers," said +Joel. + +"And Mamsie made it out of an old bonnet string," said Polly. "Oh dear, +if only Mamsie were here to-day!" And a cloud came over her face. + +"But we've Baby Fisher now," said Ben cheerfully, looking down at her. +"He's worth staying at home for, Polly." + +"Of course he is," said Polly, her gayety returning. "And dear Papa +Fisher was master of ceremonies then; but he wouldn't enjoy it to-day +without Mamsie. So we oughtn't to wish him here." + +[Illustration: "And did we," cried Phronsie "find it out, +Polly, and spoil it all?"] + +"I wish you wouldn't begin about that Little Brown House, and what +elegant times you had in it," exclaimed Alexia, twitching at a present +Joel had just tied on, to be sure it was secure; "I shall think this +Tree is perfectly horrid, if you do, Polly Pepper." + +"Go on--do go on," begged several voices. Meanwhile, Jack Loughead had +come silently up into the long hall, and deposited a neat boxful of the +gleaming frost on the table, without any comments. + +"Dear me, there is so much to tell," cried Polly, with a little laugh, +"if we begin about Jappy's Tree." + +"Who's Tree?" cried Livingston Bayley, who had been wrinkling his brows +in great perplexity all through the recital. + +"Why, Jasper's," said Polly and Ben together; Joel and David coming in +as echoes. + +"You see," said Phronsie distinctly, "that Jasper and dear Grandpapa +sent the beautiful things to us." + +"Mrs. Pepper and Polly and Ben had gotten the Tree ready before," said +Jasper hastily. "Oh! didn't I want to be there!" he added. + +"Yes; Polly almost cried because you couldn't be," said Joel in among +the branches. + +"But she couldn't quite cry," said Davie, "because you see we children +would have found it out. Polly always sang in those days." + +"Do you remember how we used to run behind the wood-pile when we wanted +to plan the Tree, Polly," asked Ben, "to get away from Joel and Dave?" + +"You spent most all your time in the Little Brown House in sneaking off +from us," said Joel vindictively. + +"Well, we had to, if we ever did anything," said Ben coolly. + +"I should think so," remarked Livingston Bayley, delighted to give a +thrust at somebody. + +"And weren't the gilt balls pretty?" cried Polly, quite gone now in the +reminiscences, though her fingers kept on at their task; "you did cover +those nuts beautifully, Bensie. I don't see how you could, with such +snips of paper." + +"How did he make the balls?" asked Alexia, forgetting herself in her +interest, and coming up to Polly. + +"Why, we had some bits of bright paper, little bits, you know, and Ben +covered hickory nuts with them, and pasted them all as smoothly; you +can't think!" + +"Oh, my!" exclaimed Alexia. + +"And Polly strung all the pop-corn, and fixed the candle-ends somebody +gave Mamsie, and"-- + +"Candle-ends? Why didn't you have whole ones?" cried Alexia. + +"Why, we couldn't," said Polly, "and we were glad enough to get these. +Oh! the Tree looked just beautifully with them, I tell you." + +"You see," said Phronsie, drawing near to look into Alexia's face, "we +were very, very poor, Alexia. So Polly and Bensie made the Tree. Don't +you understand?" + +"It was really Bensie's Tree," said Polly honestly, "for I didn't +believe at first we could do it." + +"Oh, yes, you did, Polly," corrected Ben hastily; "at any rate, you saw +it in a minute." + +"And it's the first time you didn't believe a thing could be done, I +imagine," declared Jasper, with a bright nod at Polly. + +"Well, Bensie thought of this Tree, and made me see that we could do +it," persisted Polly, giving a little quirk to a rebellious pendant. + +Mrs. Henderson put the corner of her white apron to her eyes. "I always +have to," she said to Mrs. Dyce, "when the Little Brown House days bring +those blessed children back to me." + +Jack Loughead drew nearer yet; so near that he lost never a word. + +"You ought to have seen what a Santa Claus Ben made!" Polly was saying. + +"I cut your performance yesterday at Baby's Tree, all out, old fellow," +declared Ben, descending from the step-ladder and bestowing an +affectionate clap on Jasper's shoulder. + +"I don't doubt it," Jasper gave back. + +"We made the wig out of Mamsie's cushion hair," laughed Polly. "And we +had such a piece of work putting it all back the next morning." + +"And Polly shook flour all over me, for the snow," said Ben, laughing. + +"Come back, Alexia, and hand me some more gimcracks, do," cried Joel, +poking his head out of the branches to look at his late assistant. + +"Well, do go on about your Tree in the Brown House," begged Alexia, +tearing herself away to answer Joel's demands, "seeing you have begun. +What did you do next, Polly?" + +"Well, we all marched into the 'Provision Room,'" went on Polly, her +cheeks aglow, "expecting to see our Tree just as we had left it; all but +Ben, he was going to jump into the window at the right time, when the +first thing"-- + +"Polly sat right down on the floor, saying, 'Oh!'" cried Joel, taking +the words out of her mouth. + +"I couldn't help it, I was so surprised," said Polly, with shining eyes. +"There was a most beautiful Tree, full of just everything; and there was +Mamsie, almost crying, she was so happy; and there was Cherry singing +away in his cage, and the corner of the room was all a-bloom with +flowers, and"-- + +"And Grandma Bascom was there--wasn't she funny? She used to give us +hard old raisins sometimes," said Joel, afraid to show what he was +feeling. + +"And Phronsie screamed right out," went on Polly, "and Davie said it was +Fairyland." + +By this time, Alexia had dropped the present she was holding, and had +run back to Polly's side again, and somehow most of the other workers +followed her example, the circle of listeners closing around the little +bunch of Peppers. "And Jasper sent a Christmas greeting, beside the +Tree," Polly ended, "and it was perfectly lovely." + +"And Santa Claus and Polly took hold of hands and danced around the +Tree," said Joel; "I'll never forget that." + +"Well, you would better take hold of hands and dance down to the +recitation room," said Parson Henderson's deep voice, as he suddenly +appeared in their midst, "the children are all ready to give their +carols. Come." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE FESTIVITIES. + + +Phronsie looked down into the sea of eager faces "Oh, Grandpapa," she +exclaimed softly, and plucking his sleeve, "don't you think we might +hurry and begin?" + +"Dear me, Phronsie," cried the old gentleman, whirling around in his big +chair to look at her, "why, they aren't all in, child," glancing down +the aisle where Jasper as chief usher with Ben and the others were +busily settling the children. "Bless me, what is Joel doing?" + +Phronsie looked too, to see Joel hurrying up to the platform with a +little colored child perched on his shoulder. She was crying all over +his new coat, and at every step uttered a sharp scream. + +"Toss the little beggar out," advised Livingston Bayley, as Joel shot by +with his burden. + +"Here, Joe, I'll give her a seat" cried David from a little knot of +children, all turning excitedly around at the commotion, "there's just +one here." + +"Much obliged," said Joel, stalking on, "but she says she wants to see +Phronsie about something." + +Polly, who caught the last words, looked down reproachfully at him from +the platform where Phronsie always insisted that she should sit close to +her. "Can't help it," Joel telegraphed back, "I can't stop her crying." + +Phronsie heard now, and getting out of her chair, she stepped to the +platform edge. "Let me take her," she begged. + +"Phronsie, you can't have her up here!" Polly exclaimed, while old Mr. +King put forth an uneasy hand to stop all such proceedings, and two or +three of the others hurried up to remonstrate with Joel. + +"She wants to see me," said Phronsie, putting her cool cheek against the +dark little one; "it's the new child that came yesterday," and she took +her off from Joel's shoulder, and staggered back to her seat by Polly's +side. + +"Phronsie, do put her down," whispered Polly, "it's almost time to +begin," glancing off at the clock under its wealth of evergreen at the +farther end of the hall. "Here, do let me take her." + +But Phronsie was whispering so fast that she didn't hear. + +"What is it? Please tell me quickly, for it is almost time to have the +Tree." + +At mention of the Tree, the little creature sat straight in Phronsie's +white lap. "May I have some of it, if I am black?" she begged, her beady +eyes running with tears. + +"Yes," said Phronsie, "I've tied a big doll on it for you my very own +self." Then she put her lips on the dark little cheek. "Now you must get +down, for I have to talk to the children, and tell them all about +things, and why they have a Christmas." + +But the little thing huddled up against Phronsie's waist-ribbons. "I'm +the only one that's black," she said. "I want to stay here." + +"Now you see, Joel," began old Mr. King harshly. Phronsie laid a soft +hand on his arm. "Please, Grandpapa dear, may she have a little cricket +up here? She feels lonely down with the other children, for she's only +just come." + +"Oh, dear--dear!" groaned Polly, looking down at the little black object +in Phronsie's lap. "Now what shall we do?" This last to Jasper as he +hurried up. + +"I suppose we shall have to let her stay," he began. + +"When Phronsie looks like that, she won't ever let her go," declared +Ben, with a wise nod over at the two. + +"She's just as determined as she was that day when she would send Mr. +King her gingerbread boy," cried Polly, clasping her hands. + +Jasper gave her a bright smile. "I wouldn't worry, Polly," he said. +"See, Joel has just put a cricket--it's all right," looking into Polly's +troubled eyes. + +Phronsie, having seated her burden on the cricket at her feet, got out +of her own chair, and took one step toward the platform edge, beginning, +"Dear children." But the small creature left behind clutched the +floating hem of the white gown, and screamed harder than ever. + +"Bless me!" ejaculated Mr. King in great distress. "Here, will somebody +take this child down where she belongs?" While Polly with flushed +cheeks, leaned over, and tried to unclasp the little black fingers. + +"Go up there, Joe, and stop the row," said Livingston Bayley from the +visitor's seat at the end of the hall; "you started it." + +Jack Loughead took a step or two in the direction of the platform, then +thought better of it, and got back into his place again, hoping no one +had noticed him in the confusion. + +Phronsie leaned over as well as she could for the little hands pulling +her back. "Jasper," she begged, "do move the cricket so that she may sit +by me." + +And before anybody quite knew how it was done, there was the new child +sitting on her cricket, and huddled up against the soft folds of +Phronsie's white gown, while Phronsie, standing close to the platform +edge, began again, "Dear children, you know this is Christmas Day--your +very own Christmas Day. And every Christmas Day since you came to the +Home, I have told you the story of the dear beautiful Lady; and every +single Christmas I am going to tell it to you again, so that you will +never, never forget her." + +Here Phronsie turned, and pointed up to a large, full-length portrait of +Mrs. Chatterton hanging on the wall over the platform. It was painted in +her youth by a celebrated French artist, and represented a beautiful +young woman in a yellow satin gown, whose rich folds of lace fell away +from perfectly molded neck and arms. + +All the children stared at the portrait as usual in this stage of the +proceedings. "Now you must say after me, 'I thank my beautiful Lady for +this Home,'" said Phronsie slowly. + +"I thank my beautiful Lady for this Home," said every child distinctly. + +"Because without her I could not have had it," said Phronsie. "You must +always remember that, children. Now say it." She stood very patiently, +her hands folded together, and waited to hear them repeat it. + +"Because without her I could not have had it," said the children, one or +two coming in shrilly as a belated echo. + +[Illustration: "Will you?" asked Phronsie, looking down into their +faces.] + +"And I thank her for the beautiful Tree," said Phronsie. "Now say it, +please." + +"I thank her for the beautiful Tree," shouted the children, craning +their necks away from the portrait to get a glimpse of the +curtain-veiled Tree in the other room. "Please can't we have it now?" +begged several voices. + +"No; not until you all hear the story. Well, now, God took the beautiful +Lady away to Heaven; but she is always going to be here too," again +Phronsie pointed to the portrait, "just as long as there is any Home. +And she is going to smile at you, because you are all going to be good +children and try to study and learn all that dear Mr. Henderson teaches +you; and you are going to obey every single thing that dear Mrs. +Henderson tells you, just as soon as she speaks," said Phronsie slowly, +and turning her head to look at the different rows. + +"I hope we'll be forgiven for sitting here and listening to old lady +Chatterton's praises," whispered Mrs. Hamilton Dyce to her husband. "It +makes me feel dreadfully wicked to swallow it all without a protest." + +"Oh, we've swallowed that annually for three years now," said Mr. Dyce +with a little laugh, "and grown callous. Your face is just as bad as it +was the first time Phronsie eulogized her." + +"I can't help it," declared his wife, "when I think of that dreadful +old"-- + +"Oh, come," remonstrated her husband, "let's bury the past; Phronsie +has." + +"Phronsie!" ejaculated Mrs. Dyce. "Oh, that blessed child! Just hear her +now." + +"So on this Christmas Day," Phronsie was saying in clear tones, "you are +to remember that you wouldn't have had this Tree but for the beautiful +Lady; and on every single other day, you must remember that you wouldn't +ever have had this Home; not a bit of any of it"--here she turned and +looked around the picture-hung walls, and out of the long windows to the +dark pines and firs of the broad lawn, tossing their snow-laden +branches, "but for the beautiful lady. And you must every one of you +help to make this Home just the very best Home that ever was. Will you?" +And then she smiled down into their faces while she waited for her +answer. + +"Oh, yes, yes," screamed the children, every one. The little black +creature got off from her cricket at Phronsie's feet to look into her +face. "And I will too," she cried. + +"And now you all want to thank Miss Phronsie for her kind words, we +know," Jasper cried at this point, hurrying into the middle of the +aisle, "and so, children, you may all stand up and say 'Thank you,' and +wave your handkerchiefs." + +Up flew all the rows of children to their feet, and a cloud of tiny +white squares of cambric fluttered in the air, and the children kept +piping out, "Thank you--Thank you." And old Mr. King began a cheer for +Phronsie, and another for the children; and then somebody down at the +end of the long hall set up another for Mr. King, and somebody else +started one for Mr. Henderson, and another for Mrs. Henderson, and there +was plenty of noise, and high above it all rang the peals of happy, +childish laughter. And when it was all done, everybody pausing to take +breath, then Amy Loughead sent out the finest march ever heard, from the +grand piano, and Polly and Jasper and all the rest marshaled the +children into a procession, and Phronsie clinging to old Mr. King's hand +on the one side, and holding fast to the small black palm on the other, +away they all went, the visitors falling into line, around and around +the big hall, till at last--oh! at last, they turned into the Enchanted +Land that held the wonderful Christmas Tree. And when they were all +before it, and Phronsie in the center, she lifted her hand, and the room +became so still one could hear a pin drop. And then the little children +who had sung the carols in the morning stepped forward and began, "It +came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old"-- + +And Phronsie drew a long breath, and folded her hands, not stirring till +the very last word died on the air. + +And then Jasper and the others slowly drew aside the white curtain; and +oh! the dazzling, beautiful apparition that greeted every one's eyes! No +one could stop the children's noisy delight, and the best of it was, +that no one wanted to. So for the next few moments it was exactly like +the merry time over the Tree in the "Provision Room" of the Little Brown +House years ago, just as Polly had said; only there was ever so much +more of it, because there were ever so many more children to make it! + +And Polly and Ben were like children again themselves; and David and +Joel were everywhere helping on the fun; in which excitement the other +Harvard man and even Livingston Bayley were not ashamed to take a most +active part, as Jasper, who had borrowed Santa Claus' attire for this +occasion, now made his appearance with a most astonishing bow. And then +the presents began to fly from the Tree, and Jack Loughead seemed to be +all arms, for he was so tall he could reach down the hanging gifts from +the higher branches, so that he was in great demand; and Pickering +Dodge, one eye on all of Polly's movements, worked furiously, and Alexia +Rhys and Cathie Harrison didn't give themselves hardly time to breathe; +and there was quite enough for Mr. Alstyne and the Cabots and Hamilton +Dyce to do, and everybody else, for that matter, to pass around the +presents. And in the midst of it all, a big doll, resplendent in a red +satin gown, and an astonishing hat, was untied from the tree. + +"O, I want to give it to her myself!" cried Phronsie. + +"So you shall," declared Jasper, handing it to her. + +"Susan, this is your very own child," said Phronsie, turning to the +little colored girl at her side. "Now you won't feel lonely ever, will +you?" and she laid the doll carefully into the outstretched arms. + +And at last the green branches had shaken off their wealth of gifts, and +the shining candles began to go out, one by one. + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly, coming up to old Mr. King and Phronsie, with a +basket of mottoes and bonbons enough to satisfy the demands of the most +exacting Children's Home, "we ought to get our paper caps on." + +"Bless me!" ejaculated old Mr. King, pulling out his watch, "it can't be +time to march. Ah, it's a quarter of four this minute. Here, child," to +Phronsie, "pick out your bonbon so that I can snap it with you." + +Phronsie gravely regarded the pretty bonbons in Polly's basket. "I must +pick out yours first, Grandpapa," she said slowly, lifting a silver +paper-and-lace arrangement with a bunch of forget-me-nots in the center. +"I think this is pretty." + +"So it is; most beautiful, dear," said the old gentleman, in great +satisfaction. "Now we must crack it, I suppose." So he took hold of one +end, and Phronsie held fast to the other of the bonbon, and a sharp +little report gave the signal for all the bonbons to be opened. +Thereupon, everybody, old and young, hurried to secure one, and great +was the snapping and cracking that now followed. + +"Oh, Grandpapa, isn't your cap pretty?" exclaimed Phronsie in pleased +surprise, drawing forth a pink and yellow crinkled tissue bit. "See," +smoothing it out with a gentle hand, "it's a crown, Grandpapa!" + +"Now that's perfectly lovely!" cried Polly, setting down her basket. +"Here, let me help you, child--there, that's straight. Now, Grandpapa, +please bend over so that Phronsie can put it on." + +Instead, the old gentleman dropped to one knee. "Now, dear," he said +gallantly. So Phronsie set the pink and yellow crown on his white hair, +stepping back gravely to view the effect. + +"It is so very nice, dear Grandpapa," she said, coming back to his side. +So old Mr. King stood up, with quite a regal air, and Phronsie had a +little blue and white paper bonnet tied under her chin by Grandpapa's +own hand. And caps were flying on to all the heads, and each right hand +held a tinkling little bell that had swung right merrily on a green +branch-tip. And away to Amy Loughead's second march--on and on, jangling +their bells, the procession went, through the long hall, till old Mr. +King and Phronsie who led, turned down the broad staircase, and into the +dining-room; and here the guests stood on either side of the doorway +while the little Home children passed up through their midst. + +And there were two long tables, one for the Home children, with a place +for Phronsie at its head, and another for old Mr. King at the foot. And +the other table was for the older people; both gay with Christmas holly, +and sweet with flowers. And when all were seated, and a hush fell upon +the big room, Phronsie lifted her hand. + + _We Thank Thee, oh Lord, + For this Christmas Day, + And may we love Thee + And serve Thee alway. + For Jesus Christ + The Holy Child's sake. + Amen._ + +It rang out clear and sweet in childish treble, floating off into the +halls and big rooms. + +"Now, Candace," Phronsie lifted a plate of biscuits, and a comfortable +figure of a colored woman, resplendent in the gayest of turbans and a +smart stuff gown, made its appearance by Phronsie's chair. + +"I'm here, honey," and Candace's broad palm received the first plate to +be passed, which opened the ceremony of the Christmas feast. + +Oh, this Christmas feast at Dunraven! It surpassed all the other +Dunraven Christmases on record; everybody said so. And at last, when no +one could possibly eat more, all the merry roomful, young and old, must +have a holly sprig fastened to the coat, or gown, or apron, and the +procession was formed to march back to the hall; and Mr. Jack Loughead's +stereopticon flashed out the most beautiful pictures, that his bright +descriptions explained to the delighted children; and then games and +romps, and more bonbons, and favors and flowers; and at last the sleighs +and barges for Mr. King's party were drawn up in the moonlight, at the +door of Dunraven, and the Christmas at the Home was only a beautiful +memory. + +"Miss Mary"--Mr. Livingston Bayley put out his brown driving +glove--"this way," trying to lead her off from the gay group on the +snow-covered veranda. + +"Why, I don't understand," began Polly, in the midst of trying to make +Phronsie see that it was not necessary to go back and comfort Susan with +another good-by, and turning a bewildered face up at him. + +"Why, I certainly supposed you accepted my offer to drive you to the +station," said Mr. Bayley hurriedly, and still extending his hand. +"Come, Miss Pepper." + +"Come, Polly, I've a seat for you," cried Alexia, just flying into the +biggest barge. "Do hurry, Polly." + +"Polly," called Jasper. She could see that he stood by one of the +sleighs, beckoning to her. + +Meantime, Phronsie had been borne off by old Mr. King, and Polly could +hear her say, "Somebody get Polly a seat, please." + +"I considered it a promise," Livingston Bayley was saying under cover of +the gay confusion. "And accordingly I prepared myself. But of course if +you do not wish to fulfill it, Miss Pepper, why, I"-- + +"Oh, no, no," cried Polly hastily, "if you really thought I promised +you, Mr. Bayley, I will go, thank you," and without a backward glance at +the others, she moved off to the gay little cutter where the horse stood +shaking his bells impatiently. + +"Where's Polly?" somebody called out. And somebody else peered down the +row of vehicles, and answered, "Mr. Bayley's driving her." + +And they were all off. + +Polly kept saying to herself, "Oh, dear, dear, what could I have said to +make him think I would go with him?" And Livingston Bayley smiled +happily to himself under the collar of his driving coat; and the +sparkling snow cut into little crystals by the horse's flying feet, +dashed into their faces, and the scraps of laughter and merry nonsense +from the other sleighs, made Polly want nothing so much as to cower down +into the corner of the big fur robes, for a good cry. + +And before she knew it, Mr. Bayley had turned off, leaving the gay +procession on the main road. + +"Oh!" cried Polly then, and starting forward, "Mr. Bayley, why, we're +off the road!" + +"I know a short cut to the depot," he answered hastily, "it's a better +way." + +"But we may miss the train--oh, do turn back, and overtake them," begged +Polly, in a tremor. + +"This is a vastly better road," said Mr. Bayley, and instead of turning +back, he flicked the horse lightly with his whip. "You'll say, Miss +Mary, that it's much better this way." He tried to laugh. "Isn't the +sleighing superb?" + +"Oh, yes--oh dear me!" cried poor Polly, straining her eyes to catch a +sight of the last vehicle with its merry load. "Indeed, Mr. Bayley, I'm +afraid we sha'n't get to the depot in time. There may be drifts on this +road, or something to delay us." + +"Oh, no, indeed!" cried Livingston Bayley confidently, now smiling again +at his forethought in driving over this very identical piece of roadway, +when the preparations for the Christmas festivity were keeping all the +other people busy at Dunraven, and leaving him free to provide himself +with sleighing facilities for the evening. "Don't be troubled, I know +all about it; I assure you, Miss Mary, we shall reach the depot as soon +as the rest of the party do, for it's really a shorter cut." + +Polly beat her foot impatiently on the warm foot-muff he had wrung with +difficulty from the livery keeper, and counted the moments, unable to +say a word. + +"Miss Mary"--suddenly Mr. Livingston Bayley turned--"everything is +forgiven under such circumstances, I believe," and he laughed. + +Polly didn't speak, only half hearing the words, her heart on the rest +of the party, every instant being carried further from her. + +"And you must have seen--'pon me word it is impossible that you didn't +see that--that"-- + +"Oh, dear," burst out Polly suddenly, and peering anxiously down the +white winding highway. "If there should be a drift on the road!" + +Livingston Bayley bit his lip angrily. "'Pon me word, Miss Mary," he +began, "you are the first girl I ever cared to speak to, and now you +can't think of anything but the roads." + +Still Polly peered into the unbroken whiteness of the thoroughfare, +lined by the snow-laden pines and spruces, all inextricably mixed as the +sleigh spun by. It was too late to turn back now, she knew; the best +that could be done, was to hurry on--and she began to count the +hoof-beats and to speculate how long it would be before they would see +the lights of the little station, and find the lost party again. + +"I might have spoken to a great many other girls," Livingston Bayley was +saying, "and I really don't know why I didn't choose one of them. +Another man in my place would, and you must do me the justice to +acknowledge it; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary." + +Polly tore off her gaze from the snowy fields where the branches of the +trees were making little zigzag paths in the moonlight, to fasten it on +as much of his face as was visible between his cap and his high collar. + +"And I really shouldn't think you would play with me," declared Mr. +Bayley, nervously fingering the whip-handle, "I shouldn't, don't you +know, because you are not the sort of girl to do that thing. 'Pon me +word, you're not, Miss Mary." + +"I? what do you mean?" cried poor Polly, growing more and more +bewildered. + +"Why I--I--of course you must know; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary, +for it began five years ago, before you went abroad, don't you know?" + +Polly sank back among her fur robes while he went on. + +"And I've done what no other fellow would, I'm sure," he said +incoherently, "in my place, kept constant, don't you know, to one idea. +Been with other girls, of course, but only really made up my mind to +marry you. 'Pon me word, I didn't, Miss Mary." + +"And you've brought me out, away from the rest of the party, to tell me +this," exclaimed Polly, springing forward to sit erect with flashing +eyes. "How good of you, Mr. Bayley, to announce your intention to marry +me." + +"You can't blame me," cried Mr. Bayley in an injured way. "That cad of a +Loughead means to speak soon--'pon me word, the fellow does. And I've +never changed my mind about it since I made it up, even when you began +to give music lessons." + +"Oh, how extremely kind," cried Polly. + +"Don't put it that way," he began deprecatingly. "I couldn't help it, +don't you know, for I liked you awfully from the first, and always +intended to marry you. You shall have everything in the world that you +want, and go everywhere. And my family, you know, has an _entree_ +to any society that's worth anything." + +"I wouldn't marry you," cried Polly stormily, "if you could give me all +the gold in the world; and as for family," here she sat quite erect with +shining eyes, "the Peppers have always been the loveliest people that +ever lived--the very loveliest--oh"--she broke off suddenly, starting +forward--"there's something on the road; see, Mr. Bayley!" + +And spinning along, the horse now making up his mind to get to the depot +in time, they both saw a big wagon out of which protruded two or three +bags evidently containing apples and potatoes; one of the wheels +determining to perform no more service for its master, was resting +independently on the snowy thoroughfare, for horse and driver were gone. + +"I beg your pardon," exclaimed Mr. Livingston Bayley suddenly, at sight +of this, "for bringing you around here. But how was I to know of that +beastly wreck?" + +"We must get out," said Polly, springing off from her side of the +sleigh, "and lead the horse around." + +But this was not so easy a matter; for the farmer's wagon had stopped in +the narrowest part of the road, either side shelving off, under its +treacherous covering of snow. At last, after all sorts of ineffectual +attempts on Mr. Bayley's part to induce the horse to stir a step, Polly +desperately laid her hand on the bridle. "Let me try," she said. "There, +you good creature," patting the horse's nose; "come, that's a dear old +fellow," and they never knew quite how, but in the course of time, they +were all on the other side of the wreck, and Mr. Livingston Bayley was +helping her into the sleigh, and showering her with profuse apologies +for the whole thing. + +"Never mind," said Polly, as she saw his distress, "only never say such +perfectly dreadful things to me again. And now, hurry just as fast as +you can, please!" + +And presently a swift turn brought the twinkling lights of the little +station to view, and there was the entire party calling to them as they +now spied their approach, to "Hurry up!" and there also was the train, +holding its breath in curbed impatience to be off. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BAD NEWS. + + +"Oh, Mamsie," cried Polly in dismay, "must Papa Fisher know?" + +"Certainly," said Mrs. Fisher firmly, "your father must be told every +thing." + +"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, turning off in dismay, "it seems so--so +unfair to Mr. Bayley. Mightn't it be just as if he hadn't spoken, +Mamsie?" She came back now to her mother's side, and looked anxiously +into the black eyes. + +"But he has spoken," said Mother Fisher, "and your father must be told. +Why, Polly, that isn't like you, child, to want to keep anything from +him," she added reproachfully. + +"Oh! I don't--I couldn't ever in all this world keep anything from +Father Fisher," declared Polly vehemently, "only," and the color flew in +rosy waves over her face, "this doesn't seem like my secret, Mamsie. And +Mr. Bayley would feel so badly to have it known," and her head drooped. + +"Still it must be known by your father," said her mother firmly, "and I +must tell Mr. King. Then it need go no further." + +"Oh, Mamsie!" exclaimed Polly, in a sharp tone of distress, "you +wouldn't ever in all this world tell Grandpapa!" + +"I most certainly shall," declared Mrs. Fisher. "He ought to know +everything that concerns you, Polly, and each one of you children. It is +his right." + +Polly sat down in the nearest chair and clasped her hands. "Grandpapa +will show Mr. Bayley that he doesn't like it," she mourned, "and it will +hurt his feelings." + +Mrs. Fisher's lip curled. "No more do I like it," she said curtly. "In +the first place to speak to you at all; and then to take such a way to +do it; it wasn't a nice thing at all, child, for Mr. Bayley to do," here +Mrs. Fisher walked to the window, her irritation getting the better of +her, so that Polly might not see her face. + +"But he didn't mean to speak then--that is"--began Polly. + +"He should have spoken to your father or to Mr. King," said Mrs. Fisher, +coming back to face Polly, "but I presume the young man didn't know any +better, or at least, he didn't think, and that's enough to say about +that. But as for not telling Mr. King about it, why, it isn't to be +thought of for a minute. So I best have it over with at once." And with +a reassuring smile at Polly she went out, and closed the door. + +"Oh, dear me," cried poor Polly, left alone; and springing out of her +chair, she began to pace the floor. "Now it will be perfectly dreadful +for Mr. Bayley. Grandpapa will be very angry; he never liked him; and +now he can't help showing what he feels. Oh! why did Mr. Bayley speak." + +"Polly," called Jasper's voice, out in the hall. + +For the first time in her life, she felt like running away from his +call. "Oh! I can't go out; he'll guess something is the matter," she +cried to herself. + +"Polly?" and there was a rap at the door. + +"Yes," said Polly from within. + +"Can I see you a minute?" + +Polly slowly opened the door, and tried to lift her brown eyes to his +face. + +"Oh, Polly," he pretended not to notice any thing amiss with her, "I +came to tell you first; and you can help me to break it to father." + +"Oh, what is it?" cried Polly, looking up quickly. "Oh, Jasper," as she +saw that his face was drawn with the effort not to let her see the +distress he was in. + +He tried to cover up his anxiety, but she saw a yellow paper in his +hand. "Oh, Jasper, you've a telegram," she cried breathlessly. + +"Polly," said Jasper. He took her hand and held it firmly, "you will +help father and me to bear it, I know." + +"Oh, Jasper, I will," promised Polly, clinging to his hand. "Don't be +afraid to tell me, Jasper." + +"Listen; Marian has been thrown from her sleigh this morning; the horses +ran," said Jasper hurriedly. "The telegram says 'Come.' She may be +living, Polly; don't look so." + +For the room grew suddenly so dark to her that she wavered and would +have fallen had he not caught her. "I won't faint," she cried, "Jasper, +don't be afraid. There, I'm all right. Now, oh, what can I do?" + +"Could you go with me when I tell father?" asked Jasper. "I am so afraid +I shall break it to him too sharply; and you know it won't do for him to +be startled. If you could, Polly." + +For the second time, everything seemed to turn black before her eyes, +but Polly said bravely, "Yes, I'll go, Jasper." And presently, they +hardly knew how, the two found themselves at old Mr. King's door. + +There was a sound of voices within. "Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "I +forgot Mamsie was here." + +Jasper looked his surprise, but said nothing, and as they stood there +irresolutely, Mrs. Fisher opened the door and came out. + +"Why, Polly!" she exclaimed. + +"Oh, Mrs. Fisher," cried Jasper, "we can't explain now, we must see +father. But Polly will go and tell you," and in another minute they were +both standing before Mr. King. + +The old gentleman was walking up and down his apartment, fuming at every +step. "The presumption of the fellow! How did he dare without speaking +to me! Oh, eh, Polly"--and then he caught sight of Jasper, back of her. + +"Father," began Jasper, "I've had a telegram from brother Mason." + +"Oh, now what has he been doing?" cried Mr. King irritably. "I do wish +Mason wouldn't be so abrupt in his movements. I suppose he is going +abroad again. Well, let's hear." + +Jasper tried to speak, but instead, looked at Polly. + +"Dear Grandpapa," cried Polly, going unsteadily to the old gentleman's +side, and taking his hand in both of hers. "Oh, we must tell you +something very bad, and we don't know how to tell it, Grandpapa." She +looked up piteously into his face. + +Old Mr. King put forth his other hand, and seized the back of a chair to +steady himself. "Tell me at once, Polly," he said hoarsely. "It +isn't--Marian?" It was all he could do to utter the name. + +"She is hurt," said Polly, going to the heart of the matter without +delay, "but oh, Grandpapa, it may not be very badly, and they want +Jasper to go on to New York." + +[Illustration: "WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO TELL IT, GRANDPAPA."] + +Mr. King turned to Jasper. "Give me the telegram, my boy," he said +through white lips; when it was all read, "Now tell Philip to pack me a +portmanteau." + +"Father," said Jasper, "you are not going?" + +"No questions are to be asked, Jasper," said his father. "Be so good as +to see that Philip packs quickly, and that you are ready. And now, +Polly," the old gentleman turned to her, "I want to take you along, +child, if your mother is willing. Will you go?" + +"Oh, Grandpapa," cried Polly, "if I only may; oh, do take me." + +"I don't want to go without you," said Mr. King. "There, run, child, and +ask your mother if you may go. Send Phronsie to me; I must explain +matters to her and bid her good-by." + +Alexia and some of the other girls were hurrying in the east doorway of +the King mansion, an hour later. "Oh, where's Polly, Mrs. Fisher?" cried +Cathie Harrison. + +"Polly has gone," said Mrs. Fisher, coming down the stairs. She looked +as if she wanted to cry, but her hands held the basket of sewing as +firmly as if no bad news had fallen upon the home. + +"Gone?" cried all the girls. "Oh, Mrs. Fisher, where? Do tell us where +Polly is?" + +For answer Mrs. Fisher made them all go into the little reception room +in an angle of the hall, where she told them the whole story. + +"If that isn't perfectly dreadful," cried Alexia Rhys, throwing her muff +into a chair, and herself on an ottoman. "Why, we were going to make up +a theater party for to-morrow night. Mrs. Fisher, and now Polly is +gone." + +Her look of dismay was copied by every girl so exactly, that Mrs. Fisher +had no relief in turning to any of the other four. + +"And there is her Recital--what will she do about that?" cried Alexia, +rushing on in her complaint. "Perhaps she'll give it up, after all," she +added, brightening. "Now I most know she will, Mrs. Fisher," and she +started up and began to pirouette around the room. + +"Of course she has had to postpone it," said Mrs. Fisher, looking after +her, "and she told Joel to write the notes to the pupils explaining +matters. But never you fear, Alexia, that Polly will give up that +Recital for good and all," she added, with a wise nod at her. + +"Well, she must give it up for now anyway," said Alexia, coming to a +pause to take breath, "that's some comfort. To think of Joe writing +Polly's notes to the girls, oh, dear me!" + +"Let us go and help him," proposed Cathie Harrison suddenly. "He must +hate to do such poky work." + +"Oh, dear me," began Alexia, taking up her little bag to look at the +tiny watch in one corner. "We haven't the time. Yes--come on," she burst +out incoherently; "where is he, Mrs. Fisher?" + +"In the library, hard at work," said Mrs. Fisher, with a bright smile at +them all. + +"Come on, girls," said Alexia, rushing on. "Now that's what I admire +Mrs. Fisher for," she said, when they were well in the hall, "she shows +when she's not pleased, and when she likes what a body does, as well." + +"I think she's just elegant," declared Cathie Harrison, who had +privately done a good deal of worshiping at Mrs. Fisher's shrine. + +"She's a dear," voted Alexia. "Well, do come on. Oh, Joe!" as they +reached the library door. + +Joel sat back of the writing table, a mass of Polly's note paper and +envelopes sprawled before him, his head on his hands and his elbows on +the table. Back of him paced Pickering Dodge with a worried expression +of countenance. + +"You do look so funny," burst out Alexia with a laugh; "doesn't he, +girls?" to the bright bevy following her. + +"I guess you would if you were in my place," growled Joel, scarcely +giving them a glance. "Go away, Alexia; you can't get me into a scrape +this morning--I've to dig at this." + +"I don't want to get you into a scrape," cried Alexia, with a cold +shoulder to Pickering, who had been claimed by the other girls, "we're +going to help you." + +"Is that so?" cried Joel radiantly; "then I say you're just jolly, +Alexia," and he beamed at her. + +"Yes, we want to help," echoed Cathie, drawing up a chair to the other +side of the table. "Now do set us to work, Joel." + +"Indeed and I will," he cried, spreading a clear place with a reckless +hand. + +"Take care," warned Alexia, "take care; you are spoiling all Polly's +note paper. I wouldn't let you at my things, I can tell you, Joel +Pepper!" + +"As if I'd ever do this sort of thing for you, Alexia," threw back Joel. + +"Well, do let us begin," begged Cathie, impatiently drumming on the +table, as the other two girls and Pickering Dodge drew near. + +"Yes, do," cried the girls, "and we'll toss those notes off in no time." + +"I'll help you clear the table," cried Pickering; "do let me. I can't +write those notes, but I can get the place ready;" and he began to pile +the books on a chair. As he went around to Alexia's place she looked up +and fixed her gaze past him, not noticing his attempt to speak. + +"All right; if she wants to act like that, I'm willing," said Pickering +to himself savagely and coolly going on with his work. + +"Oh, dear me," groaned Cathie Harrison, "isn't it perfectly dreadful to +have that dear sweet Mrs. Whitney hurt?" + +"Ow!" exclaimed Joel. + +"Do stop," cried Alexia with a nudge. "Haven't you any more sense, +Cathie Harrison, than to speak of it?" + +[Illustration: "NOW DO SET US TO WORK, JOEL"] + +Cathie smothered a retort, and bit her lips to keep it back. + +"Well, dear me, we are not working much," cried Alexia, pulling off her +gloves; "how many notes have you to write, Joe?" + +"Oh, a dozen, I believe," said Joel; "that is, counting this one." + +"To whom is that?" asked Alexia, peering over his shoulder. "Oh, to Amy +Loughead." + +"Yes, I promised Polly this should go first. That Loughead girl was +expecting her over this morning. Oh, she's a precious nuisance," +grumbled Joel, dipping his pen in the ink. + +"Well, then, I will write to Desiree Frye," said Alexia. "She was going +to play a solo, Polly said, at the Recital. Oh, dear me, what shall I +say?" + +"Polly said tell them all what had happened, and that she should stay +away as long as Aunty needed her, but she hoped to be home soon, and she +would write them from New York." + +"Oh, Joe, what a lot," exclaimed Alexia, leaving her pen poised in mid +air. + +"Cut it short, then," said Joel. "I don't care, only that's the sense of +it." + +"Oh, dear," began one of the girls, "I can't bear to write of the +accident, and in the holidays, too." + +Alexia made an uneasy gesture, scrawled two or three words, then threw +down her pen and got out of her chair. "It's no use," she cried, running +up to Pickering, who, his hands in his pockets, had his back to them +all, and was looking out of the window. "I can't let myself do anything +till I've said I'm sorry I was so cross," and she put out her hand. + +"Eh?" exclaimed Pickering, whirling around in astonishment. "Oh, dear +me!" and he pulled his right hand out of his pocket, and extended it to +her. + +"Mrs. Whitney has got hurt, and she was always sweet, and never said +cross things, and oh, dear me!" cried Alexia incoherently, as he shook +her hand violently. + +"And I'm glad enough to have it made up," declared Pickering decidedly. +"It's bad enough to have so much trouble in the world, without getting +into fights with people you've known ever since you can remember." + +"Trouble?" repeated Alexia wonderingly. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Whitney's +accident, you mean; I know it's awful for all of us." + +Pickering Dodge turned on his heel and walked off abruptly, and she ran +back to her work with a final stare at him. + +"I know now," she said to herself wisely, "and I've been mean enough to +hurt him when he was bearing it. Oh, dear me, things are getting so +mixed up!" + +"Polly, you won't leave me, will you, till I get able to sit up?" cried +Mrs. Whitney one day, a week after. + +"No, Aunty, indeed I won't," declared Polly, leaning over to drop a kiss +on the soft hair against the pillows. + +Mrs. Whitney put up her hands to draw down the young face. + +"Oh, Aunty!" exclaimed Polly in dismay, "be careful; you know doctor +said you mustn't raise your arms." + +"Well, just let me kiss you, dear, then," said Mrs. Whitney with a wan +little smile. "Oh, Polly," when the kiss and two or three others had +been dropped on the rosy cheek, "you are sure you can stay with me?" + +"I'm sure I can, and I will," said Polly firmly. "Oh, Aunty, I shall be +so glad to be with you; you can't think how glad." + +She softly patted the pillows into the position Mrs. Whitney best liked, +and then stood off a bit and beamed at her. + +"It's dreadfully selfish in me to keep you," said Mrs. Whitney, "when +you love your work so; and what will the music scholars do, Polly?" + +"Oh, they are all right," said Polly gaily, "they're working like +beavers. Indeed, Aunty, I believe they'll practice a great deal more +than if I were home to be talking to them all the while." + +"You are a dear blessed comfort, Polly," said Mrs. Whitney, turning on +her pillow with a sigh of relief. "Now I do believe I shall get up very +soon. But Jasper must go back; it won't do for him to stay away any +longer from his business. Promise me, Polly, that you will make him see +that he ought to go." + +"I'll try, Aunty," said Polly, "and now that you are so much better, +why, I do believe that Jasper will be willing to go." + +"Oh, do make him," begged Mrs. Whitney, and then she tucked her hand +under her cheek, and the first thing Polly knew she heard the slow, +regular breathing that told she was asleep. + +"Now that's just lovely," cried Polly softly, "and I will run and speak +to Jasper this very minute, for he really ought to go back to his +business." + +But instead of doing this, she met a young girl, as she was running +through the hall, who stopped her and asked, "Can I see Mr. King?" + +"What!" cried Polly, astonished that the domestics had admitted any one, +as it was against the orders. + +"Oh, I am a relation," said the girl coolly, "and I told the man at the +door that I should come in; and he said then I must wait, for I could +not see Mr. King now, and he put me up in that little reception room, +but I just walked out to meet the first person coming in the hall. Will +you be so kind as to arrange it?" + +She looked as if she fully expected to have her wish fulfilled, and her +gaze wandered confidently around the picture-hung wall, until such time +as Polly could answer. + +"I'll see," said Polly, who couldn't help smiling, "what I can do for +you; but you mustn't be disappointed if Grandpapa doesn't feel able to +see you. He is very much occupied, you know, with his daughter's ill"-- + +"Oh, I understand," said the other girl, guilty of interrupting, "but he +will see me, I know," and her light blue eyes were as calm as ever. + +"Who shall I tell him wants to see him?" asked Polly, her own eyes wide +at the stranger and her ways. + +"Oh, you needn't tell him any name," said the girl carelessly. + +"Then I certainly shall not tell him you wish to see him, unless I carry +your name to him," Polly said quite firmly, and she looked steadily into +the fair face before her. + +"Oh, dear me," said the girl; "well, you may say I am Mr. Alexander +Chatterton's daughter Charlotte." + +Polly kept herself from starting as the name met her ear. "Very well," +she said, "I will do what I can," moving off. "O, Grandpapa!" + +For down the hall came Mr. King in velvet morning jacket and cap. + +"Hoity-toity, I thought no one was to be admitted," he exclaimed, as he +neared the door. + +"Grandpapa," Polly endeavored to draw him off, but the young girl ran +past her. + +"Mr. King," she said quickly, "I am Charlotte Chatterton." + +"The dickens you are!" exclaimed the old gentleman, looking her full in +the face. + +"Yes, sir; and my father is very ill." For a moment her voice trembled, +but she quickly recovered herself. "It isn't money I want, Mr. King," +and she threw her head back proudly, "but oh, will you come and see +father?" + +Mr. King looked at her again, then over at Polly. "Bring her in here," +he said, pointing to the same little reception room that Charlotte had +deserted, "I want you to stay, too, Polly," and the door closed upon +them. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +OF MANY THINGS. + + +"And father has asked her to go home when you and he go!" cried Jasper in +irritation. + +"Yes," said Polly; "oh, Jasper, never mind; I daresay it will be for the +best; and I'm so sorry for Charlotte." + +"She'll be no end of bother to you, I know," said Jasper. "And you must +take her everywhere, Polly, and look out for her. What was father +thinking of?" He could not conceal his annoyance, and Polly put aside +her own dismayed feelings at the new programme, to help him into his +usual serene mood. + +"But think, Jasper, how she has never had any fun all her life, and now +her father is sick." + +"She'd much better stay and take care of him," declared Jasper. + +"But he's sick because he has worried so, I do believe," Polly went on, +"for you ought to have seen his face when we took Charlotte home, and +Grandpapa talked with him, and asked him to let Charlotte pass the rest +of the winter with us. Oh, I am glad, Jasper, for I do like Charlotte." + +"The girl may be well enough," said Jasper shortly, "but she will bother +you, nevertheless, Polly, I am afraid." + +"Never mind," said Polly brightly, with a little pang at her heart for +the nice times with the girls that now must be shared with another. +"Grandpapa thought he ought to do it, I suppose, and that's enough." + +"It does seem as if the Chattertons would never be done annoying us," +said Jasper gloomily. "Now when we once get this girl fastened on us, +there'll be an end to the hope of shaking her off." + +"Perhaps we sha'n't want to," said Polly merrily, "for Charlotte may +turn out perfectly lovely; I do believe she's going to." And then she +remembered her promise to Mrs. Whitney, and she began: "Aunty is +worrying about your staying away so long from your business, Jasper, and +she wants you to go back." + +A shade passed over his face. "I suppose I ought to go, Polly," he said, +and he pulled a letter from his pocket and held it out to her, "I was +going to show this to you, only the other matter came up." + +Polly seized it with dread. + +"We need your services very much" [the letter ran] "and cannot wait +longer for your return. We are very sorry to be so imperative, but the +rush of work at this time of the year, makes it necessary for all our +force to be in place. + +"Very sincerely + +"DAVID MARLOWE." + +"You see they are getting all the books planned out, and put in shape +for the next year; and business just rushes," cried Jasper, with shining +eyes, showing his eagerness to be in the midst of the bustle of +manufacture. + +"What, so early!" cried Polly, letting the letter drop. "Why, I thought +you didn't do anything until spring, Jasper--about making the books, I +mean." + +He laughed. "The travelers go out on the road then," he said, "with +almost all the books ready to sell." + +"Out on the road?" repeated Polly in amaze. "Oh, what do you mean, +Jasper?" + +"Well, you see the business of selling is a good part of it done by +salesmen, who travel with samples and take advance orders," said Jasper, +finding it quite jolly to explain business intricacies to such an eager +listener. + +"Oh!" said Polly. + +"And when I get back I shall be plunged at once into all the thick of +the manufacturing work," he went on, straightening himself up; "Mr. +Marlowe is as good as he can be, and he has waited now longer than he +ought to." + +"Oh, you must go, Jasper," cried Polly quickly; "at once, this very +day," and her face glowed. + +"If you think sister Marian is really well enough to spare me," he said, +trying to restrain his impatience to be off. + +"Yes--yes, I do," declared Polly. "Doctor Palfrey said this morning that +all danger was over now from inflammation, and really it worries her +dreadfully to think of your being here any longer. It really does hurt +her, Jasper," repeated Polly emphatically. + +"In that case I'm off, then, this afternoon," said Jasper, with a glad +ring in his voice. "Polly, my work is the very grandest in all the +world." + +"Isn't it?" cried Polly, with kindling eyes; "just think--to make good +books, Jasper, that will never stop, perhaps, being read. Oh, I wish I +was a man and could help you." + +"Polly?" he stopped a minute, looked down into her face, then turned off +abruptly. "You are sure you won't bother yourself too much with +Charlotte?" he said awkwardly coming back. + +"Yes; don't worry, Jasper," said Polly, wondering at his unusual manner. + +"All right; then as soon as I've seen father I'll throw my traps +together and be off," declared Jasper, quite like the business man +again. + +But old Mr. King was not to hear about it just then, for when Jasper +rapped at his door, it was to find that his father was fast asleep. + +"See here, Jasper," said Mr. Whitney, happening along at this minute, +"here's a nice piece of work. Percy declares that he shall be made +miserable to go back to college to-morrow. His mother is able now for +him to be settled at his studies; won't you run up and persuade +him--that's a good fellow." + +"I'm going back to my work to-night," cried Jasper, pulling out his +watch, "that is, if father wakes up in time for me to take the train." + +"Is that so? Good," cried Mr. Whitney. "Well, run along and tell Percy +that, for the boy is so worried over his mother that he can't listen to +reason." + +So Jasper scaled the stairs to Percy's den. + +"Well, old fellow, I thought I'd come up and let you know that I'm off +to my work," announced Jasper, putting his head in the doorway. + +"Eh!" cried Percy, "what's that?" + +"Why, I'm off, I say; back to dig at the publishing business. Your +mother doesn't want us fellows hanging around here any longer. It +worries her to feel that we are idling." + +"Is that so?" cried Percy. "How do you know?" + +"Polly says so; she let me into the secret; says sister Marian requested +me to go back." + +"Did Polly really say so?" demanded Percy in astonishment. + +"Yes, in good plain English. So I'm off." + +"Well, if Polly really said that mamma wanted you to go, why, I'll get +back to college as soon as I can," said Percy. "But if she should be +worse?" He stopped short. + +"They can send for you instantly; trust Polly for that," said Jasper. +"But she won't be worse; not unless we worry her by not doing as she +wishes. Well, good-by, I'm off." + +"So am I," declared Percy, springing up to throw his clothes into +traveling order. "All right, I'll take the train with you, Jappy." + +"Now you see how much better I'm off," observed Van, coming in to perch +on the edge of the bed while Percy was hurrying all sorts of garments +into the trunk with a quick hand. "I tell you, Percy, I struck good luck +when I chose father's business. Now I don't have to run like a dog at +the beck of a lot of professors." + +"Every one to his taste," said Percy, "and I can't bear father's +business, for one." + +"No, you'd rather sit up with your glasses stuck on your nose, and learn +how to dole out the law; that's you, Percy. I say, I wouldn't try to +keep the things on," with a laugh as he saw his brother's ineffectual +efforts to pack, and yet give the attention to his eyeglasses that they +seemed to demand. + +"See here now, Van," cried Percy warmly, "if you cannot help, you can +take yourself off. Goodness! I have left out my box of collars!" + +"Here it is," cried Van, throwing it to him from the bed, where it had +rolled off under a pile of underclothing. "Well, you don't know how the +things make you look. And Polly doesn't like them a bit." + +"How do you know?" demanded Percy, growing quite red, and desisting from +his employment a minute. + +"Oh, that's telling; I know she doesn't," replied Van provokingly. + +For answer Van felt his arms seized, and before he knew it Percy was +over him and holding him down so that he couldn't stir. + +"Now how do you know that Polly doesn't like my eyeglasses?" he +demanded. + +"Ow--let me up!" cried Van. + +"Tell on, then. How do you know she doesn't like them?" + +"Because--Let me up, and I'll tell." + +"No, tell now," said Percy, having hard work to keep Van from slipping +out from under his hands. + +"Boys," called Polly's voice. + +"Oh dear me--she's coming!" exclaimed Percy, jumping to his feet, and +releasing Van, who, red and shining, skipped to the door. "Come in, +Polly." + +"I thought I'd find you up here," said Polly in great satisfaction. +"Percy, can't I do something for you? Jasper says you are going back to +college right away." + +"Yes, you can," said Percy, "take Van off; that would help me more than +anything else you could do." + +Polly looked at Van and shook her brown head so disapprovingly that he +came out of his laugh. + +"Oh, I'll be good, Polly," he promised. + +"See that you are, then," she said. Then she went over to the trunk and +looked in. + +"Percy, may I take those things out and fold them over again?" she +asked. + +"Yes, if you want to," said Percy shamefacedly. "I suppose I have made a +mess of them; but it's too hard work for you, Polly." + +"I should like nothing better than to attack that trunk," declared Polly +merrily. "Now, Van, you come and help me, that's a dear boy." + +And in five minutes Polly and Van were busily working together; he +putting in the things, while she neatly made them into piles, and Percy +sorted and gave orders like a general. + +"He does strut around so," said Van under his breath, "just see him +now." + +"Hush--oh, Van, how can you? and he's going back to college, and you +won't see him for ever so many weeks." + +Van swallowed something in his throat, and bent all his energies to +settling the different articles in the trunk. + +"Percy," said Polly presently in a lull, "I do just envy you for one +thing." + +"What for, pray?" asked Percy, settling his beloved eyeglasses for a +better view of her. + +"Why, you'll be with Joel and Davie," said Polly. "Oh, you don't know +how I miss those boys!" She rested both hands on the trunk edge as she +knelt before it. + +[Illustration: "OH, YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I MISS THOSE BOYS!" ] + +"I wish you'd been our sister," said Van enviously, "then we'd have had +good times always." + +"Oh, I don't see much of Joel," said Percy. "Dave once in a while I run +across, but Joel--dear me!" + +"You don't see much of Joel," repeated Polly, her hands dropping +suddenly in astonishment. "Why, Percy Whitney, why not, pray tell?" + +"Why, Joel's awful good--got a streak of going into the prayer-meetings +and that sort of thing," explained Percy, "and we call him Deacon Pepper +in the class." + +"He goes to prayer-meetings, and you call him Deacon Pepper," repeated +Polly in amazement, while Van burst out into a fit of amusement. + +"Yes," said Percy, "and he has a lot of old fogies always turning up +that want help, and all such stuff, and I expect that he is going to be +a minister." + +He brought this out as something too dreadful to be spoken, and then +fell back to see the effect of his words. + +"Can you suppose it?" cried Polly under her breath, still kneeling on +the floor, "oh, boys, can you?" looking from one to the other. + +"Yes; I'm afraid it's true," said Percy, feeling that he ought to be +thrashed for having told her, while Van laughed again. + +"Oh--oh! it's too lovely. Dear, beautiful, old Joel!" cried Polly, +springing suddenly to her feet; "just think how good he is, boys! Oh, +it's too lovely to be true!" + +Percy retreated a few steps hastily. + +"And oh, how much better we ought to be," cried Polly in a rush of +feeling. "Just think, with Joel doing such beautiful things, oh, how +glad Mamsie will be! And he never told--Joel never told." + +"And he'll just about kill me if you tell him I've let it out," said +Percy abruptly. "Oh, dear me, how he'll pitch into me!" exclaimed Percy +in alarm. + +"I never shall speak of it," declared Polly in a rapture, "because Joel +always hated to be praised for being good. But oh, how lovely it is!" + +And then Grandpapa called, and she ran off on happy feet. + +"Whew!" exclaimed Percy, with a look over at Van. + +"I tell you what, if you want to get into Polly's good graces, you've +just got to brush up on your catechism, and such things," remarked Van; +"eyeglasses don't count." + +Percy turned off uneasily. + +"Nor suppers, and a bit of card-playing, eh, Percy?" + +"Hold your tongue, will you?" cried his brother irritably. + +"Nor swell clothes and a touch-me-if-you-dare manner," said Van +mockingly, sticking his fingers in his vest pockets. + +Percy made a lunge at him, then thought better of it. + +"Leave me alone, can't you?" he said crossly. + +Van opened his mouth to toss back a teasing reply, when Percy opened up +on him. "I'd as soon take my chances with her, on the suppers and other +things, as to have yours. What would Polly say to see you going for me +like this, I'd like to know?" + +It was now Van's turn to look uncomfortable, and he cast a glance at the +door. + +"Oh, she may come in," said Percy, bursting into a laugh, "then you'd be +in a fine fix; and I wouldn't give a rush for the good opinion she'd +have of you." + +Van hung his head, took two or three steps to the door, then came back +hurriedly. + +"I cry 'Quits,' Percy," he said, and held out his hand. + +"All right," said Percy, smoothing down his ruffled feelings, and +putting out his hand too. + +Van seized it, wrung it in good brotherly fashion, then raced over the +stairs at a breakneck pace. + +"Polly", he said, meeting her in the hall where she had just come from +Mr. King's room, "I've been blackguarding Percy, and you ought to know +it." + +"Oh, Van!" cried Polly, stopping short in a sorry little way; "why, +you've been so good ever since you both promised years ago that you +wouldn't say bad things to each other." + +"Oh, that was different," said Van recklessly; "but since he went to +college, Percy has been a perfect snob Polly." + +Polly said nothing, only looked at him in a way that cut him to the +heart, as she moved off slowly. + +"Aren't you going to say anything?" asked Van at last. + +"I've nothing to say," replied Polly, and she disappeared into Mrs. +Whitney's room and closed the door. + +That evening Jasper and Percy, who went together for a good part of the +way, had just driven to the station, when the bell rang and a housemaid +presently laid before Polly a card, at sight of which all the color +deserted her cheek. "Oh, I can't see him," she declared involuntarily. + +"Who is it?" asked old Mr. King, laying down the evening paper. + +"O, Grandpapa!" cried Polly, all in a tremor at the thought of his +displeasure, "it does not matter. I can send word that I do not see any +one now that Aunty is ill, and"-- + +"Polly, child," said the old gentleman, seriously displeased, "come and +tell me at once who has called upon you." + +So Polly, hardly knowing how, got out of her chair and silently laid the +unwelcome card in his hand. + +"Mr. Livingston Bayley," read the old gentleman. + +"Humph! well, upon my word, this speaks well for the young man's +perseverance. I'm very tired, but I see nothing for it but that I must +respond to this;" and he threw aside the paper and got up to his feet. + +"Grandpapa," begged Polly tremblingly at his elbow, "please don't let +him feel badly." + +"It isn't possible, Polly," cried Mr. King, looking down at her, "that +you like this fellow--enough, I mean, to marry him?" + +"O, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly in a tone of horror. + +"Well, then, child, you must leave me to settle with him," said the old +gentleman with dignity. "Don't worry; I sha'n't forget myself, nor what +is due to a Bayley," with a short laugh. And then she heard him go into +the drawing-room and close the door. + +When he came back, which he did in the space of half an hour, his face +was wreathed in smiles, and he chuckled now and then, as he sat down in +his big chair and drew out his eyeglasses. + +"Well, Polly, child, I don't believe he will trouble you in this way +again, my dear," he said in a satisfied way, looking at her over the +table. "He wanted to leave the question open; thought it impossible that +you could refuse him utterly, and was willing to wait; and asked +permission to send flowers, and all that sort of thing. But I made the +young man see exactly how the matter stood, and that's all that need be +said about it. It's done with now and forever." And then he took up his +paper and began to read. + +"Mamsie," said Phronsie, that very evening as she was getting ready for +bed, and pausing in the doorway of her little room that led out of +Mother Fisher's, "do you suppose we can bear it another day without +Polly?" + +"Why, yes, Phronsie," said Mother Fisher, giving another gentle rock to +Baby's cradle, "of course we can, because we must. That isn't like you, +dear, to want Polly back till Aunty has got through needing her." + +Phronsie gave a sigh and thoughtfully drew her slippered foot over the +pattern of the carpet. "It would be so very nice," she said, "if Aunty +didn't need her." + +"So it would," said her mother, "but it won't make Polly come any +quicker to spend the time wishing for her. There, run to bed, child; you +are half an hour late to-night." + +Phronsie turned obediently into her own little room, then came back +softly. "I want to give Baby, Polly's good-night kiss," she said. + +"Very well, you may, dear," said Mrs. Fisher. So Phronsie bent over and +set on Baby's dear little cheek, the kiss that could not go to Polly. + +"If dear Grandpapa would only come home," and she sighed again. + +"But just think how beautiful it is that Aunty was not hurt so much as +the doctors feared," said her mother. "Oh, Phronsie, we can't ever be +thankful enough for that." + +"And now maybe God will let Grandpapa and Polly come back pretty soon," +said Phronsie slowly, going off toward her own little room. And +presently Mrs. Fisher heard her say, "Good-night, Mamsie dear, I'm in +bed." + +A rap at the door, and Jane put in her head, in response to Mrs. +Fisher's "What is it?" + +"Oh, is Dr. Fisher here?" asked Jane in a frightened way. + +[Illustration: "AND PLEASE MAKE DEAR PAPA GIVE HER THE RIGHT THINGS."] + +"No; he is downstairs in the library," said Mother Fisher. "What is the +matter, Jane? Who wants him?" + +"Oh, something dreadful is the matter with Helen Fargo, I'm afraid, +ma'am," said Jane. "Griggs has just run over to say that the doctor must +come quick." + +"Hush!" said Mrs. Fisher, pointing to Phronsie's wide-open door; but she +was standing beside them in her little nightdress, and heard the next +words plainly enough. + +"Run down stairs, Jane," commanded Mother Fisher, "and tell the doctor +what Griggs said; just as fast as you can, Jane." + +And in another minute in rushed the little doctor, seized his medicine +case, saying as he did so, "I sha'n't come back here, wife, if it is +diphtheria, but go to my office and change my clothes. There's +considerable of the disease around. Good-night, child." He stopped to +kiss Phronsie, who lifted a pale, troubled face to his. "Don't worry; I +guess Helen will be all right," and he dashed off again. + +"Now, Phronsie, child," said Mrs. Fisher, "come to mother and let us +talk it over a bit." + +So Phronsie cuddled up in Mamsie's lap, and laid her sad little cheek +where she had been so often comforted. + +"Mamsie," she said at last, lifting her head, "I don't believe God will +let Helen die, because you see she's the only child that Mrs. Fargo has. +He couldn't, Mamsie." + +"Phronsie, darling, God knows best," said Mrs. Fisher, holding her +close. + +"But he wouldn't ever do it, I know," said Phronsie confidently; "I'm +going to ask Him not to, and tell Him over again about Helen's being the +very only one that Mrs. Fargo has in all the world." So she slipped to +the floor, and went into her own room again and closed the door. "Dear +Jesus," she said, kneeling by her little white bed, "please don't take +Helen away, because her mother has only just Helen. And please make dear +papa give her the right things, so that she will live at home, and not +go to Heaven yet. Amen." + +Then she clambered into bed, and lay looking out across the moonlight, +where the light from Helen Fargo's room twinkled through the fir-trees +on the lawn. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +PHRONSIE. + + +"I can't tell her," groaned Mrs. Pepper, the next morning, at sight of +Phronsie's peaceful little face. "I never can say the word 'diphtheria' +in all this world." + +Phronsie laughed and played with Baby quite merrily, all such time as +Miss Carruth, the governess, allowed her from the schoolroom that +morning. + +"Everything is beautiful, King dear," she would say on such little +flying visits to the nursery. "Grandpapa and Polly, I do think, will be +home pretty soon; and Helen is going to get well, because you know I +asked God to let her, and he wouldn't ever, in all this world, take her +away from her mother. He wouldn't, King," she added confidentially in +Baby's small ear. + +All day long the turreted Fargo mansion gleamed brightly in the glancing +sunlight, giving no hint of the battle for a life going on within. Mrs. +Fisher knew when her husband sent for the most celebrated doctor for +throat diseases; knew when he came; and knew also when each hour those +who were fighting the foe, were driven back baffled. And several times +she attempted to tell Phronsie something of the shadow hanging over the +little playmate's home. But Phronsie invariably put aside all her +attempts with a gentle persistence, always saying, "He wouldn't, you +know, Mamsie." + +And at nightfall Helen had gone; and two white little hands were folded +quietly across a young girl's breast. + +No one told Phronsie that night; no one could. And she clambered into +her little white bed, after saying her old prayer; then she lay in the +moonlight again, watching Helen's house. + +"The light is out, Mamsie," she called, "in Helen's room. But I suppose +she is asleep." And presently Mrs. Fisher, stealing in, with unshed +tears in her eyes, found her own child safe--folded in restful slumber, +her hand tucked under her cheek. + +But the next morning, when she must hear it! + +"Phronsie," said Mrs. Fisher, "come here, dear." It was after breakfast, +and Phronsie was running up into the school-room. + +"Do you mean I am not to go to Miss Carruth?" asked Phronsie +wonderingly, and fingering her books. + +"Yes, dear. Oh, Phronsie"--Mrs. Fisher abruptly dropped her customary +self-control, and held out her arms. "Come here, mother's baby; I've +something bad to tell you, and you must help me, dear." + +Phronsie came at once, with wide-open, astonished brown eyes, and +climbed up into the good lap obediently. + +"Phronsie," said Mrs. Fisher, swallowing the lump in her throat, and +looking at the child fixedly, "you know Helen has been very sick." + +"Yes, mamma," said Phronsie, still in a wonder. + +"Well--and she suffered, dear, oh, so much!" + +A look of pain stole over Phronsie's face, and Mrs. Fisher hastened to +say, "But oh. Phronsie, she can't ever suffer any more, for--for--God +has taken her home, Phronsie." + +"Has Helen died?" asked Phronsie, in a sharp little voice, so unlike her +own that Mrs. Pepper shivered and held her close. + +"Oh, darling--how can I tell you? Yes, dear, God has taken her home to +Heaven." + +"And left Mrs. Fargo without any little girl?" asked Phronsie, in the +same tone. + +"My dear--yes--He knows what is best," said poor Mrs. Fisher. + +The startled look on Phronsie's little face gave way to a grieved +expression, that slowly settled on each feature. + +"Let me get down, Mamsie," she said, quietly, and gently struggling to +free herself. + +"Oh, Phronsie, what are you going to do?" cried Mrs. Fisher. "Do sit +with mother." + +"I must think it out, Mamsie," said Phronsie, with grave decision, +getting on her feet, and she went slowly up the stairs, and into her own +room; then closed the door. + +And all that day she said nothing; even when Mother Fisher begged her to +come and talk it over with her, Phronsie would say, "I can't, Mamsie +dear, it won't talk itself." But she was gentle and sweet with Baby, and +never relaxed any effort for his amusement. And at last, when they were +folding Helen away lovingly in flowers, from all who had loved her, Mrs. +Fisher wrote in despair to Polly, telling her all about it, and adding, +"You must come home, if only for a few days, or Phronsie will be sick." + +"I shall go, too," declared old Mr. King, "for Marian can spare me now. +Oh, that blessed child! And I can come back here with you, Polly, if +necessary." + +And Polly had nothing for it but to help him off, and Charlotte's father +being ever so much better, she joined them; and as soon as it was a +possible thing, there they were at home, and Thomas was driving them up +at his best speed, to the carriage porch. + +"Polly!" Phronsie gasped the word, and threw hungry little arms around +Polly's neck. + +"There, there, Pet," cried Polly cheerily, "you see we're all home. +Here's Grandpapa!" + +"Where's my girl?" cried old Mr. King hastily. "Here, Phronsie," and she +was in his arms, while the tears rained down her cheeks. + +"Bless me!" exclaimed the old gentleman, putting up his hand at the +shower. "Well, that is a welcome home, Phronsie." + +"Oh, Grandpapa, I didn't mean to!" said Phronsie, drawing back in +dismay. "I do hope it hasn't hurt your coat." + +"Never mind the coat, Phronsie," said Mr. King. "So you are glad to get +us home, eh?" + +Phronsie snuggled close to his side, while she clung to his hand without +a word. + +"Well, we mustn't forget Charlotte," cried Polly, darting back to a tall +girl with light hair and very pale blue eyes, standing composedly in one +corner of the hall, and watching the whole thing closely. "Mamsie, dear, +here she is," taking her hand to draw her to Mrs. Fisher. + +"Don't mind me," said Charlotte, perfectly at her ease. "You take care +of the little girl," as Polly dragged her on. + +Mrs. Fisher took a good long look at Charlotte Chatterton. Then she +smiled, "I am glad to see you, Charlotte." + +[Illustration: CHARLOTTE, STANDING COMPOSEDLY IN ONE CORNER OF THE +HALL.] + +Charlotte took the firm fingers extended to her, and said, "Thank you," +then turned off to look at Phronsie again. + +And it wasn't till after dinner that Phronsie's trouble was touched +upon. Then Polly drew her off to a quiet corner. + +"Now, then, Phronsie," she said, gathering her up close in her arms, +"tell me all about it, Pet. Just think," and Polly set warm kisses on +the pale little cheek, "how long it is since you and I have had a good +talk." + +"I know it," said Phronsie wearily, and she drew a long sigh. + +"Isn't it good that dear Aunty is so much better?" cried Polly cheerily, +quite at a loss how to begin. + +"Yes, Polly," said Phronsie, but she sighed again, and did not lift her +eyes to Polly's face. + +"If anything troubles you," at last broke out Polly desperately, "you'd +feel better, Phronsie, to tell sister about it. I may not know how to +say the right things, but I can maybe help a little." + +Phronsie sat quite still, and folded and unfolded her hands in her lap. +"Why did God take away Helen?" she asked suddenly, lifting her head. +"Oh, Polly, it wasn't nice of him," she added, a strange look coming +into her brown eyes. + +[Illustration: PHRONSIE WENT OVER TO THE WINDOW.] + +"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, quite shocked, "don't, dear; that isn't +like you, Pet. Why, God made us all, and he can do just as he likes, +darling." + +"But it isn't nice," repeated Phronsie deliberately, and quite firmly, +"to take Helen now. Why doesn't He make another little girl then for +Mrs. Fargo?" and she held Polly with her troubled eyes. + +"Phronsie"--cried Polly; then she stopped abruptly. "Oh, what can I say? +I don't know, dearie; it's just this way; we don't know why God does +things. But we love him, and we feel it's right. Oh, Phronsie, don't +look so. There, there," and she drew her close to her, in a loving, +hungry clasp. "I told you I didn't think I could say the right things to +you," she went on hurriedly, "but, Phronsie, I know God did just right +in taking Helen to heaven. Just think how beautiful it must be there, +and so many little children are there. And Helen is so happy. Oh, +Phronsie, when I think of that, I am glad she is gone." + +"Helen was happy here," said Phronsie decidedly. "And she never--never +would want to leave her mother alone, to go off to a nicer place. Never, +Polly." + +Polly drew a long breath, and shut her lips. "But, Phronsie, don't you +see," she cried presently, "it may be that Mrs. Fargo wouldn't ever want +to go to Heaven unless Helen was there to meet her? It may be, Phronsie; +and that would be very dreadful, you know. And God loved Mrs. Fargo so +that he took Helen, and he is going to keep her happy every single +minute while she is waiting and getting ready for her mother." + +Phronsie suddenly slipped down from Polly's lap. "Is that true?" she +demanded. + +"Yes, dear," said Polly, "I think it is, Phronsie," and her cheeks +glowed. "Oh, can't you see how much nicer it is in God to make Mrs. +Fargo happy for always with Helen, instead of just a little bit of a +while down here?" + +Phronsie went over to the window and looked up at the winter sky. "It is +a long way off," she said, but the bitter tone had gone, and it was a +grieved little voice that added, "and Mrs. Fargo can't see Helen." + +"Phronsie," said Polly, hurrying over to her side, "perhaps God wants +you to do some things for Mrs. Fargo--things, I mean, that Helen would +have done." + +"Why, I can't go over there," said Phronsie wonderingly. "Papa Fisher +says I am not to go over there for ever and ever so long, Polly." + +"Well, you can write her little notes and you can help her to see that +God did just right in taking Helen away," said Polly; "and that would be +the very best thing you could do, Phronsie, for Mrs. Fargo; the very +loveliest thing in all this world." + +"Would it?" asked Phronsie. + +"Yes, dear." + +"Then I'll do it; and perhaps God wants me to like Heaven better; does +he, Polly, do you think?" + +"I really and truly do, Phronsie," said Polly softly. Then she leaned +over and threw both arms around Phronsie's neck. "Oh, Phronsie, can't +you see--I never thought of it till now--but He has given you somebody +else instead of Helen, to love and to do things for?" + +Phronsie looked up wonderingly. "I don't know what you mean, Polly," she +said. + +"There's Charlotte," cried Polly, going on rapidly as she released +Phronsie. "Oh, Phronsie, you can't think; it's been dreadfully hard and +dull always for her at home, with those two stiff great-aunts pecking at +her." + +"Tell me about it," begged Phronsie, turning away from the window, and +putting her hand in Polly's. + +"Well, come over to our corner then." So the two ran back, Phronsie +climbing into Polly's lap, while a look of contentment began to spread +over her face. + +"You see," began Polly, "Charlotte's mother has always been too ill to +have nice times; she couldn't go out, you know, very much, nor keep the +house, and so the two great-aunts came to live with them. Well, pretty +soon they began to feel as if they owned the house, and Charlotte, and +everybody in it." + +"Oh dear!" exclaimed Phronsie, in distress. + +"And Charlotte's father, Mr. Alexander Chatterton, couldn't stop it; and +beside, he was away on business most of the time, and Charlotte didn't +complain--oh, she behaved very nice about it; Phronsie, her father told +Grandpapa all about it; and by and by her mother died, and then things +got worse and worse; but Mr. Chatterton never knew half how bad it was. +But when he was sick it all came out, and it worried him so that he got +very bad indeed, and then he sent for Grandpapa--Charlotte couldn't stop +him; he made her go. You see he was afraid he was going to die, and he +couldn't bear to have things so very dreadful for Charlotte." + +"And is he going to die?" broke in Phronsie excitedly. + +"Oh no, indeed! he was almost well when we came away; it was only his +worrying over Charlotte that made him so bad. Oh, you ought to have seen +him, Phronsie, when Grandpapa offered to take Charlotte home with us for +the winter. He was so happy he almost cried." + +"I am so glad he was happy," cried Phronsie in great satisfaction, her +cheeks flushing. + +"And so now I think God gave Charlotte to you for a little while because +you haven't Helen. I do, Phronsie, and you can make Charlotte glad while +she is here, and help her to have a good time." + +"Can I?" cried Phronsie, her cheeks growing a deep pink. "Oh, Polly, +how? Charlotte is a big girl; how can I help her?" + +"That's your secret to find out," said Polly merrily. "Well, come now," +kissing her, "we must hurry back to Grandpapa, or he'll feel badly to +have you gone so long." + +"Polly," cried Phronsie, as they hurried over the stairs, "put your ear +down, do." + +"I can't till we get downstairs," laughed Polly, "or I'll tumble on my +nose, I'm afraid. Well, here we are. Now then, what is it?" and she bent +over to catch the soft words. + +"I'm sorry," said Phronsie, her lips quite close to Polly's rosy cheek, +"that I said God wasn't nice to take Helen away. Oh, I love him, Polly, +I truly do." + +"So you do," said Polly, with, a warm clasp. "Well, here's Grandpapa," +as the library door opened, and Mr. King came out to meet them. + +Polly, running over the stairs the next day to greet Alexia and some of +the girls who were determined to make the most of her little visit at +home, was met first by one of the maids with a letter. + +[Illustration: ALEXIA COOLLY READ ON, ONE ARM AROUND POLLY.] + +"Oh, now," cried Alexia, catching sight of it, "I almost know that's to +hurry you back, Polly. She sha'n't read it, girls." With that she made a +feint of seizing the large white envelope. + +"Hands off from my property," cried Polly merrily, waving her off, and +sitting down on the stair she tore the letter open. + +Alexia worked her way along till she was able to sit down beside her, +when she was guilty of looking over her shoulder. + +"Oh, Alexia Rhys, how perfectly, dreadfully mean!" cried one of the +other girls, wishing she could be in the same place. + +Alexia turned a deaf ear, and coolly read on, one arm around Polly. + +"Oh, girls--girls!" she suddenly screamed, and jumping up, nearly +oversetting Polly, she raced over the remaining stairs to the bottom, +where she danced up and down the wide hall, "Polly isn't going back--she +isn't--she isn't," she kept declaring. + +"What!" cried all the girls. "Oh, do stop, Alexia. What is it?" + +Meantime Cathie Harrison ran up and quickly possessed herself of the +vacated seat. + +"Why, Mr. Whitney writes to say that Polly needn't go back--oh, how +perfectly lovely in him!" cried Alexia, bringing up flushed and panting. +"Oh, dear me, I can't breathe!" + +"Oh! oh!" cried all the girls, clapping their hands. + +"But that doesn't mean that I shall not go back," said Polly, looking up +from her letter to peer through the stair-railing at them. "I +think--yes, I really do think that I ought to go back." + +"How nonsensical!" exclaimed Alexia impatiently. "If Mr. Whitney says +you are not needed, isn't that enough? Beside he wrote it for Mrs. +Whitney; I read it all." + +"No, I don't think it is enough," answered Polly slowly, and turning the +letter with perplexed fingers, "for I know dear Aunty only told him to +write because she thought I ought to be at home." + +"And so you ought," declared Alexia, very decidedly. "She's quite right +about it, and now you're here, why, you've just got to stay. So there, +Polly Pepper. Hasn't she, girls?" + +"Yes, indeed," cried the girls. + +Polly shook her brown head, as she still sat on her stair busily +thinking. + +"Here comes Mr. King," cried Cathie Harrison, suddenly craning her neck +at the sound of the opening of a door above them. "Now I'm just going to +ask him," and she sprang to her feet. + +"Cathie--Cathie," begged Polly, springing up too. + +"I just will," declared Cathie, obstinately scampering up over the +stairs. "Oh, Mr. King, mayn't Polly stay home? Oh, do say yes, please!" + +"Yes, do say yes, please," called all the other girls in the hall below. + +"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed the old gentleman, well pleased at the +onslaught. "Now then, what's the matter, pray tell?" + +"I just won't have Cathie Harrison tell him," said Alexia, trying to run +up over the stairs. "Let me by, Polly, do," she begged. + +"No, indeed," cried Polly, spreading her arms. "It's bad enough to have +one of you up there besieging Grandpapa." + +"Then I'll run up the back stairs," cried Alexia, turning in a flash. + +"Oh, yes, the back stairs!" exclaimed the other girls, following her. +"Oh, do hurry! Polly's coming after us." + +But speed as she might, Polly could not overtake the bevy, who, laughing +and panting, stood before Mr. King a second ahead of her. + +"A pretty good race," said the old gentleman, laughing heartily, "but +against you from the first, Polly, my girl." + +"Don't listen to them, Grandpapa dear," panted Polly. + +"Mayn't she stay at home--mayn't she?" + +"Hush, girls," begged Polly. "Oh, Grandpapa dear, don't listen to them. +Aunty told Uncle Mason to write the letter, and you know"-- + +"Well, yes, I know all you would say, Polly. But I've also had a letter +from Mason, and I was just going to show it to you." He pulled out of +his vest pocket another envelope corresponding to the one in Polly's +hand, which he waved at her. + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly, quite aghast at his so easily going +over to the enemy. With that, all the girls deserted the old gentleman, +and swarmed around Polly. + +"See here, now," commanded Mr. King, "every single one of you young +things come back here this minute. Goodness me, Polly, I should think +they'd be the death of you." + +Polly didn't hear a word, for she was reading busily: "Marian says +'don't let Polly come back on any account. It worries me dreadfully to +think of all that she is giving up; and I will be brave, and do without +her. She must not come back.'" + +Polly looked up to meet old Mr. King's eyes fixed keenly upon her. + +"You see, Polly," he began, "I really don't dare after that to let you +go back." + +"Oh--oh--oh!" screamed all the girls. + +"There, I told you so," exclaimed Alexia. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +POLLY LOOKS OUT FOR CHARLOTTE. + + +"Second floor--Room No. 3," said Buttons, then stood like an automaton +to watch the tall young man scale the stair. + +"He did 'em beautifully," he confided afterward to another bell-boy. +"Mr. King himself can't get over them stairs better." + +"Come in!" cried Jasper, in response to the rap. + +"Halloo, old fellow!" cried Pickering Dodge, rushing in tumultuously. +"Well, well, so this is your den," looking around the small room in +surprise. + +"Yes. Now this is good to see you!" exclaimed Jasper, joyfully leaping +from his chair to seize Pickering's hand. "Well, what brought you? +There's nothing wrong?" he asked, anxiously scanning Pickering's face. + +"No--that is, everything's right; all except Polly." + +"There isn't anything the matter with Polly?" Jasper turned quite white, +scarcely speaking the words. + +"No, she's all right, only"--Pickering turned impatiently off from the +chair Jasper pulled forward with a hasty hand, and stalked to the other +side of the little room. "She's--she's--well, she's so hard to come at +nowadays. Everybody has a chance for a word with her but old friends. +And now the Recital is in full blast." + +Jasper drew a long breath, and began to get his color again. "Oh, +yes--well, it's all going on well, the Recital, I mean, isn't it?" he +asked. + +"I believe so," said Pickering in a gloomy way. "The girls are wild over +it; you can't hear anything else talked about at home. But," he broke +off abruptly, "got a cigar, Jasper?" and he began to hunt the mantel +among the few home-things spread around to enliven the hotel apartment. + +"Haven't such an article," said Jasper. + +"I forgot you don't smoke," said Pickering with a sigh. "Dear me! how +will you bear trouble when it comes, old chap?" He came back to the +table, and thrust his hands in his pockets, looking dismally at Jasper. + +"I'm afraid a cigar wouldn't help me much," said Jasper, with a laugh; +"but if you must have one, I can get it, eh?" + +"Yes, I must," said Pickering in despair, "for I've something on my +mind. Came over on purpose to get your help, and I can't do it without a +weed." + +"Very well," said Jasper, shoving the chair again toward Pickering. "Sit +down, and I'll have one sent up," and he went over and touched the +electric button on the wall. + +"Yes, sir?" Buttons ran his head in the doorway, and stared at them +without winking. + +"A cigar for this gentleman," said Jasper, filliping a coin into the +boy's hand. + +"Is that the way you order cigars?" demanded Pickering, whirling around +in his chair. + +"Yes, when I order them at all," said Jasper, laughing; "a weed is a +weed, I suppose." + +"Indeed, and it is not, then," retorted Pickering. "I'll have none of +your ordering. You needn't bring it up, boy; I'll go down to the office +and pick some out for myself." + +"All right, sir," said Buttons, putting down the coin on the table with +a lingering finger. + +"Keep it," said Jasper, with a smile. + +"He's a gentleman," observed Buttons, on the way downstairs, Pickering +treading his heels. "He ain't like the rest of 'em that boards here. +They orders me around with a 'Here, you!' or a 'Hoi, there, boy!' +They're gents; he's the whole word--a first-class gentleman, Mr. King +is," he repeated. + +"Now, then, for it," said Jasper, when at last the gleam of Pickering's +cigar was steady and bright, "open your budget of news, old fellow," he +added, with difficulty restraining his impatience. + +"It ought not to be any news," declared Pickering, with extreme +abruptness, "for I've never tried to conceal it. I love Polly." + +Jasper started so suddenly his arm knocked from the table a slender +crystal vase, that broke into a dozen pieces. + +"Never mind," he said, at Pickering's dismayed exclamation, "go on." + +Whew--puff! floated the rings of cigar smoke over Pickering's head. "And +I can't stand it, and I won't, waiting any longer to tell her so. Why, +man," he turned savagely now on Jasper, "I've loved her for years, and +must I be bullied and badgered out of my rights by men who have only +just been introduced to her--say?" + +"Whom do you mean?" asked Jasper huskily, his fingers working over the +table-cloth, under the pretense of pulling the creases straight. + +"Why, that Loughead chap," said Pickering, bringing his hand down +heavily on the table; "he has more sweet words from Polly Pepper in a +week than I get in a month--and I such an old friend!" + +"Polly is so anxious to help his sister," Jasper made out to say. + +"Well, that's no reason why the fellow should hang around forever," +declared Pickering angrily. + +"Why, he's gone abroad!" exclaimed Jasper, "long ago." + +"Ah, but he's coming back," said Pickering, with a sage nod, and +knocking off the ashes from his cigar end. + +"Is that so?" cried Jasper, in astonishment. + +"Yes, 'tis," declared Pickering, nodding again, "and I don't like it. +You know as well as I do," squaring around on Jasper, "that he don't +care a rap about his sister's getting on; he's only thinking of Polly, +and _I_ love her." + +Seeing that something was expected of him, Jasper made out to say, "You +do?" + +"Of course I do; and you know it, and every one knows it, or ought to; I +haven't ever tried to conceal it," said Pickering proudly. + +"How do you know that Loughead is coming back?" asked Jasper abruptly. + +"How do I know? The best way in the world." Pickering moved uneasily in +his chair. "Hibbard Crane had a letter yesterday; that's the reason I +threw my traps together and started for you." + +"For me?" cried Jasper, in surprise. + +"Yes. You've got to help me. I can't stand it, waiting around any +longer. It has almost killed me as it is." Pickering threw his head on +the chair-back and took savage pulls at the cigar between his teeth. + +"I help you?" cried Jasper, too astonished to do much more than to +repeat the words. "How in all this world can I do anything in the +matter?" he demanded, as soon as he could find his voice. + +"Why, you can tell Polly how it is; you're her brother, or as good as +one; and she'll see it from you. And you must hurry about it, too, for I +expect that Loughead will turn up soon. He means mischief, he does." + +"See here, Pick," cried Jasper, getting out of his chair hastily to face +Pickering, "you don't know what you are asking. Why, I couldn't do it. +The very idea; I never heard of such a thing! You--you must speak to +Polly yourself." + +"I can't," said Pickering, in a burst, and bringing up his head +suddenly. "She won't give me the ghost of a chance. There's always those +girls around her; and she's been away an age at Mrs. Whitney's. And +everlastingly somebody is sick or getting hurt, and they won't have +anybody but Polly. You know how it is yourself, Jasper," and he turned +on him an injured countenance. + +"Well, don't come to me," cried Jasper, beginning to pace the floor +irritably. "I couldn't ever speak on such a subject to Polly. Beside it +would be the very way to set her against you. It would any girl; can't +you see it, Pick?" he added, brightening up. + +"Girls are queer," observed Pickering shrewdly, "and the very thing you +think they won't like, they take to amazingly. Oh, you go along, Jasper, +and let her see how matters stand; how I feel, I mean." + +"You will do your own speaking," said Jasper, in his most crusty +fashion, and without turning his head. + +"I did; that is, I tried to last night after I met Crane," began +Pickering, in a shamefaced way, "but I couldn't get even a chance to see +Polly." + +"How's that?" asked Jasper, still marching up and down the floor; +"wasn't she home?" + +"Why, she sent Charlotte Chatterton down to see me," said Pickering, +very much aggrieved, "and I hate that Chatterton girl." + +"Why couldn't Polly see you?" went on Jasper, determined, since his +assistance was asked, to go to the root of the matter. + +"Oh, somebody in the establishment, I don't know who, had a finger-ache, +I suppose," said Pickering, carelessly throwing away his cigar end and +lighting a fresh one, "and wanted Polly. Never mind why; she couldn't +come down, she sent word. So I gave up in despair. See here now, Jasper, +you must help me out." + +"I tell you I won't," declared Jasper, with rising irritation, "not in +that way." + +"You won't?" + +"No, I won't. I can't, my dear fellow." + +"Well, there's a great end of our friendship," exclaimed Pickering, red +with anger, and he jumped to his feet. "Do you mean to say, Jasper King, +that you won't do such a simple thing for me as to say a word to your +sister Polly, when I tell you it's all up with me if you don't speak +that word--say?" + +"You oughtn't to ask such a thing; it's despicable in you," cried +Jasper, aghast to find his anger rising at each word. "And if you insist +in making such a request when I tell you that I cannot speak to Polly +for you, why, I shall be forced to repeat what I said at first, that I +won't have anything to do with it." + +"Do you mean it," Pickering put himself in front of Jasper's advancing +strides, "that you will not speak to Polly for me?" + +"I do." + +"I tell you," declared Pickering, now quite beside himself, "it's +absolutely necessary for me to have your word with her, Jasper King." + +"And I tell you I can't give that word," said Jasper. Then he stopped +short, and looked into Pickering's face. "I'm sorry, old chap," and he +put out his hand. + +Pickering knocked it aside in a towering passion. "You needn't 'old +chap' me," he cried. "And there's an end to our friendship, King." He +seized his hat and dashed out of the room. + +"Miss Salisbury!" Alexia Rhys, in real distress, threw herself against +her old teacher, who was hurrying through the long school-room. + +"Well, what is it?" asked Miss Salisbury, settling her glasses for a +look at her former pupil. "You mustn't hinder me; I'm on my way to the +recitation room," and her hand made a movement toward her watch. + +"Oh, don't think of time, Miss Salisbury!" begged Alexia, just as +familiarly as in the old days, "when Polly Pepper needs to be looked out +for." + +"If Polly Pepper needs me in any way, why, I must stop," said the +principal of the "Young Ladies' Select Boarding and Day School," "but I +don't see how she can need me, Alexia," she added in perplexity, "Polly +is fully capable of taking care of herself." + +"Oh, no, she isn't," cried Alexia abruptly. "Beg your pardon, but Polly +is a dear, sweet, dreadful idiot. Oh dear me! what do you suppose, Miss +Salisbury, she has gone and done?" + +"I am quite at a loss to guess," said Miss Salisbury calmly, "and I must +say, Alexia, I am very much pained by your failure to profit by my +instructions. To think that one of my young ladies, especially one on +whom I have spent so much care and attention as yourself, should be so +careless in speech and manner, as you are constantly. 'Gone and +done'--oh, Alexia!" she exclaimed in a grieved way. + +"Oh, I know," cried Alexia imperturbably, "you did your best, dear Miss +Salisbury, and it isn't your fault that I'm not fine. But oh, don't +waste the time, please, over me, when I want to tell you about Polly." + +"What is it about Polly?" demanded Miss Salisbury, fingering her +watch-chain nervously. "Really, Alexia, I think Polly would do very well +if you didn't try so hard to take possession of her. I quite pity her," +she added frankly. + +Alexia burst into a laugh. "It's the only way to catch a glimpse of her. +Miss Salisbury," she cried, "for everybody is trying to take possession +of Polly Pepper. And now--oh, it's getting perfectly dreadful!" + +Miss Salisbury took an impatient step forward. + +"Oh, Miss Salisbury," cried Alexia in alarm, "wait just a minute, do, +dear Miss Salisbury," she cried, throwing her arms around her, thereby +endangering the glasses set upon the fine Roman nose, "there can't any +one help in this but just you." + +"It is very wrong," said Miss Salisbury, yet yielding to the embrace, +"for me to stay and listen to you in this way, but--but I've always been +fond of you, Alexia, and"-- + +"I know it," cried Alexia penitently, "you've just been a dear, always, +Miss Salisbury, to me. If you hadn't, why, I don't know what I should +have done, for I had nobody but aunt," with a little pathetic sniff, "to +look after me." + +"My dear Alexia," cried Miss Salisbury, quite softened, "don't feel so. +You are very dear to me. You always were," patting her hand. "And so +what is it that you want to tell me now? Pray be quick, dear." + +"Well, then, will you promise to make Polly Pepper do what she ought to, +Miss Salisbury?" cried Alexia, quite enchanted with her success thus +far. + +Miss Salisbury turned a puzzled face at her. "Will I make Polly Pepper +do as she ought to?" she repeated. "My dear Alexia, what a strange +request. Polly Pepper is always doing as she ought." + +"Well, Polly is just hateful to herself," declared Alexia, "and if it +wasn't for us girls, she'd--oh, dear me! I don't know what would happen. +What do you suppose, Miss Salisbury, she's gone and--oh dear, I didn't +mean to--but what do you suppose Polly has just done?" + +[Illustration: "MY DEAR ALEXIA," CRIED MISS SALISBURY, QUITE SOFTENED, +"DON'T FEEL SO."] + +Before Miss Salisbury could reply, Alexia rushed on frantically. "If +you'll believe me, Polly has gone and asked that Charlotte Chatterton to +sing at her Recital; just think of that!" exclaimed Alexia, quite gone +at the enormity of such a blunder. + +"Why, doesn't Charlotte Chatterton sing well?" asked Miss Salisbury, in +surprise. + +"Oh, frightfully well," said Alexia, "that's just the trouble. And now +Polly's Recital will all be part of that Chatterton girl's glory. And it +was to be so swell!" And Alexia sank into a chair, and waved back and +forth in grief. + +"Swell! Oh, Alexia," exclaimed Miss Salisbury in consternation. + +"Oh, do excuse me," mumbled Alexia, "but Polly really has spoiled that +elegant Recital. It won't be all Polly's, now. Oh, dear me!" + +Miss Salisbury drew a long breath. "I'm very glad Polly has asked Miss +Chatterton to sing," she said at last. "It was the right thing to do." + +"Very glad that Polly has asked that Chatterton girl to sing?" almost +shrieked Alexia, starting out of her chair. + +"Yes," said Miss Salisbury decidedly. "Very glad indeed, Alexia." + +"And now you won't make Polly see that Charlotte Chatterton ought not to +be stuck into that Recital?" cried Alexia wildly. "Oh, dear me! and you +are the only one that can bring Polly to her senses--oh, dear me!" + +"Certainly not," said Miss Salisbury, with a little dignified laugh. +"The Recital is Polly's, and she knows best how to manage it." + +"Well, we won't applaud, we girls won't," declared Alexia, stiffening +up, "when that Charlotte Chatterton sings; but we'll all just look the +other way--every single one of us." + +"Alexia Rhys!" slowly ejaculated Miss Salisbury in real sorrow. + +"Well, we can't; it wouldn't be right," gasped Alexia. "Don't look so, +Miss Salisbury. Oh, dear me, why will Polly act so! Oh, dear me! I wish +Charlotte Chatterton was in the Red Sea." + +Miss Salisbury gathered herself up in quiet disapproval; and with a +parting look prepared to leave the room. + +"Oh, Miss Salisbury," cried Alexia, flying after her, to pluck her gown, +"do turn around. Oh, dear me!" and she began to cry as hard as she +could. + +"When you have come to your better self, Alexia, I will talk with you," +said Miss Salisbury distinctly, and she went out, and closed the door. + +"Did she say she would--did she--did she?" cried a group of the "old +girls," as Miss Salisbury's present scholars called Polly and her set, +as they came tiptoeing in. "Why, where are you, Alexia?" + +"Here," said a dismal voice from the depths of a corner easy chair. They +all rushed at her. + +"I've had an awful time with her," sobbed Alexia, her face buried in her +handkerchief, "and I suppose it really will kill me, girls." + +"Nonsense!" cried one or two. "Well, what did she say about making Polly +listen to reason?" + +"Oh, dreadful--dreadful!" groaned Alexia gustily. "You can't think!" + +"You don't mean to say that she approves, after all that Polly Pepper +has worked over that old Recital, to"-- + +--"Have some one else come in and grab the glory?" finished another +voice. + +"Oh, dear--dear!" groaned Alexia in between. "And Miss Salisbury would +kill you, Clem, if she heard you say 'grab.'" + +"Well, do tell us, what did Miss Salisbury say?" demanded another girl +impatiently. + +"She said it was right for Polly to ask Charlotte Chatterton to sing, +and she was glad she was going to do it." + +"Oh, horrors!" exclaimed the group in dismal chorus. + +"The idea! as much as she loves Polly Pepper!" cried Sally Moore. + +"And I hate the word 'right,'" exploded Alexia, whirling her +handkerchief around her fingers. "Now! It's poked at one everlastingly. +I think it's just sweet to be wicked." + +"Oh, Alexia Rhys!" + +"Well, just a little bit wicked," said Alexia. + +Cathie Harrison shook back the waves of light hair on her brow. "Girls," +she began hesitatingly. But no one would listen; the laments were going +on so fast over Polly and her doings. + +"It _is_ right!" cried Cathie at last, after many ineffectual +attempt to be heard. "Do stop, girls, making such a noise," she added +impatiently. + +"That's a great way to preach," said Clem, laughing, "lose your temper +to begin with, Cathie." + +"I didn't--that is, I'm sorry," said Cathie. "But, anyway, I want to say +I ought to have been ashamed to act so about that Chatterton girl. Where +should I have been if Polly Pepper hadn't taken me up?" + +She looked down the long aisle to a seat in the corner. "There's where I +sat," pointing to it, "and you all know it, for a whole week, and I +thought I should die; I did," tragically, "without any one speaking to +me. And one day Polly Pepper came up and asked wouldn't I come to her +house to the Bee you were all going to get up to fit out that horrible +old poor white family down South. And I wanted to get up and scream, I +was so glad." + +"Cathie Harrison," exclaimed Alexia, springing to her feet defiantly, +"what do you want to bring back those dreadful old times for! You are +the most uncomfortable person I ever saw." + +"You needn't mind it now, Alexia," cried Cathie, rushing at her, "for +you've been too lovely for anything ever since--you dear!" + +"I lovely? oh, girls, did you hear?" cried Alexia, sinking into her +chair again, quite overcome. "She said I was lovely--oh, dear me!" + +"And so you are," repeated Cathie stoutly; "just as nice and sweet and +lovely to me as you can be. So!" throwing her long arms around Alexia. + +"I didn't want to be; Polly made me," said Alexia. + +"I know it; but I don't care. You are nice now, any way." + +"And I suppose we must be nice to that Chatterton girl now, if she does +break up our fun," said Alexia with a sigh, getting out of her chair. +"Come on, girls; let us go and tell Polly it's just heavenly that +Charlotte is to sing." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +POLLY'S RECITAL. + + +Charlotte Chatterton stood back of the portiere pulling a refractory +button of her glove into place, as a gay group precipitated themselves +into the dressing-room of The Exeter. + +"Now remember, girls," cried Alexia, rushing at the toilet table to +bestow frantic twitches at the fluffy waves of hair over her forehead, +"that we must applaud the very minute that she gets through singing. Oh +dear me, just look at my bangs; they are perfect frights. Hateful +things!" with another pull at the offending locks. + +"It's a swell house," exclaimed one of the girls delightedly. + +"Just let Miss Salisbury catch you saying 'swell,'" warned Alexia. "Take +care now, Sally Moore, this is a very proper and select occasion." + +"Well, do let some of us have that glass a minute," retorted Sally, "and +mend your manners before you take occasion to correct my speech." + +"My bangs are worse than yours, Sally," cried another girl, crowding up; +"do let me get one corner of that glass," trying to achieve a view of +her head over Alexia's shoulder. + +Alexia calmly picked at the fluffy bunch of hair on her brow, giving it +a little quirk before she said, "Don't fight, girls; it quite spoils +one's looks; I never do when I'm dressed up." + +"Of course not," said Sally Moore, "for you get everything you want +without fighting." + +"The idea!" exclaimed Alexia, with an injured expression, "when I never +have my own way. Why, I give up and give up the whole time to somebody. +Well, never mind; let's talk about the Recital. Oh, it's going to be +quite elegant for Polly Pepper. There's a regular society cram in the +Hall." + +"Well, I don't think 'society cram' is a bit better than a 'swell +affair,'" said Clem Forsythe, slipping out of her opera cloak. + +"Nor I either," cried three or four voices. + +"Oh, I don't object to 'swell affair' myself," said Alexia; "I have used +the words on more than one occasion, unless my memory is treacherous. I +only wanted to spare Miss Salisbury's nerves." + +"Pity you didn't give more attention to Miss Salisbury's nerves five or +six years ago," said Sally. "Do get away from that glass." + +"It's no time to talk about me now," observed Alexia. "All our minds +should be on Polly, and her Recital. Girls, _did_ you see Jack +Loughead down at the door?" + +"Didn't we?" cried the girls. + +"He's as handsome as a picture, isn't he?" cried Alexia, with another +little pull at her rebellious hair. + +"Isn't he?" hummed the girls. + +"Well, he won't look at you, for all your fussing over those bangs," +said Sally vindictively. + +"Did you suppose I thought he would?" cried Alexia coolly. "Why, it's +Polly Pepper, everybody knows, that brings him here." + +"What's become of Mr. Bayley?" asked one of the girls suddenly. + +"Hush--sh! you mustn't ask," cried Alexia mysteriously, and turning away +from the mirror, with a lingering movement; "there, it looks shockingly, +but it is as good as I can fix it." + +"Your hair always does look perfectly horrid," declared Sally Moore, +deftly slipping into the vacated place. + +"Well, do tell all you know about Mr. Bayley and Polly," begged the girl +who had raised the question, "I'm just dying to know." + +"Alexia Rhys doesn't know a thing more than we do, Frances," said Clem, +"only she pretends she's in the secret." + +"I was down at Dunraven at the Christmas splurge," said Alexia, "and you +were not, Clem. That's all I shall say," and she leisurely disposed +herself in a big chair, and began to draw on her gloves, with the air of +one who could reveal volumes were she so disposed. + +"Polly wouldn't ever send him off," said one of the girls, "I don't +believe. Why, he's horribly rich; and just think of marrying into the +Bayley family--oh my!" + +"I should think the shock of being asked to enter that family, would +kill any girl, to begin with," said Clem. "Why, he goes back to William +the Conqueror, doesn't he? And there's an earl in the family, and I +don't know what else. And then beside, there's his mother; the idea of +sitting opposite to her at the table every single day--oh dear me! I +know I should drop my knife and fork and things, from pure fright." + +"I'm sure I don't see why anybody is proud to have his family go back +all the time," said Alexia Rhys; "for my part I should want to start +things forward a little myself." + +"Well, who does know anything about it, why Mr. Bayley has gone off +suddenly?" demanded Frances. + +"No one knows," said Clem. + +Alexia hummed a tune provokingly. + +"We all guess, and it's easy enough to guess the truth; but Polly won't +ever let it out, so that's all there is about it." + +"Well, now, girls," said Alexia suddenly, "we must remember what we +promised each other." + +"What do you mean?" asked Frances; "I didn't promise anything to +anybody." + +"You weren't with us when we promised, my dear," answered Alexia, "and +I'll rise and explain. You see we don't any of us like that Charlotte +Chatterton; not a single one of us. She's a perfect stick, I think." + +"So do I," said another girl; "this is the way she walks." Thereupon +followed a representation given to the life, of Charlotte Chatterton's +method of getting her long figure over the ground, which brought subdued +peals of laughter from the girls looking on. + +"And she has no more feeling than an oyster," pursued Alexia, when she +had recovered her breath, "or she might see that Polly was just giving +up all her fun and ours too, by dragging her into everything that is +going on." + +"I know it," said the girls. + +"And I'm so sick of her taking in everything so as a matter of course," +observed Alexia; "oh! she's quite an old sponge." + +"It's bad enough to be called an oyster, without having old sponge +fastened to one," said Sally Moore, coming away from the mirror, thereby +occasioning another rush for that useful dressing-room appointment. + +"Well, she is both of those very things," declared Alexia, "nevertheless +we must applaud her dreadfully when she's finished singing. That's what +we promised each other, Frances. It will please Polly, you know." + +"You better hurry, or you will lose your seats," announced a friendly +voice in the doorway, which had the effect to send the whole bevy out as +precipitately as they had hurried in. + +When she was quite sure that no one remained, Charlotte Chatterton shook +herself free from the friendly portiere-folds, and stepped to the center +of the deserted room. + +"I'll not sing one note!" she declared, standing tall, "not one single +note!" Just then, in ran Amy Loughead. + +"Oh dear, and oh dear!" + +"What is the matter?" asked Charlotte, not moving. + +"Oh, I'm so frightened," gasped Amy, shivering from head to foot, "there +are so many people in there, oh--oh! I can't play!" beating her hands +together in terror. + +"You must," said Charlotte unsympathizingly. + +"I can't--I can't. Oh, I shall die! The hall is full, and they keep +coming in. Oh--Miss Pepper!" + +For Polly, in her soft white gown, was coming quickly into the +dressing-room. + +"Your hands are just as cold as ice," said Polly, gathering up Amy's +shaking little palms into her own. "There now, we'll see if we can't +coax them into playing order," rubbing them between her own warm ones. + +"Oh, I can feel all those people's eyes staring through me," cried Amy, +huddling up against Polly. + +"You mustn't think of their eyes, child," laughed Polly. But there was a +little white line around her mouth. Just then a messenger came in with a +note. + +"Any answer?" asked Polly. "Oh, stay; I would better read it before you +go." And she tore it open. + +"I am so sorry that I cannot keep my engagement to play the duet with +Miss Porter, but the doctor has just been here, and he says I must not +go out. I should have written this morning that I had a sore throat, but +I thought I could manage to go. I'm so sorry--oh, Miss Pepper, I'm so +sorry! + +"JULIA ANDERSON." + +[Illustration: "I'LL NOT SING A NOTE!"] + +The note fell to Polly's lap, and for a minute she could not speak. +"There is no answer," at last she said to the messenger. + +"Oh, Miss Pepper, what is it?" cried Amy Loughead, brought out of her +own fright, by the dread of a new trouble. + +"Julia Anderson is sick and cannot be here," said Polly. + +"Oh, dear! and she was going to play with Miss Porter. What will you +do?" cried Amy in consternation. + +"Why, I shall have to take her place," said Polly, forcing herself to +speak. + +"Oh, dear--dear!" exclaimed Amy, trying not to burst into tears. +"Everything is just as bad and horrid as it can be. Oh, dear, dear, and +I can't play; I should disgrace you!" + +"Oh, no, no, Amy," said Polly, trying to smile, "that you'll never do." +She threw the note on the floor now, and began to rub the cold little +hands again. + +"But--but, I'm so frightened," gasped Amy. + +Charlotte Chatterton walked to the window. + +"I may be a stick, and an oyster, and an old sponge, and everybody wish +me out of the way, but I'm not such a villain as to bother her now by +telling her I won't sing. If they only won't applaud!" She shut her +teeth tightly, and turned back again. + +"I wouldn't, Miss Loughead," she began. But her voice sounded cold and +unsympathetic, and Amy clung to Polly tighter than ever. + +Ben now looked in. "Come, Polly," he said. "You really ought to be out +here, and it's almost three o'clock." + +Amy gave a gasp. "What shall I do?" + +"You may stay in here, if you really wish," said Polly in a low voice, +Charlotte Chatterton looking on with all her eyes, "and I will excuse +you." + +"And will--will you be disappointed in me?" Amy brought out the question +shamefacedly. + +"Very much," said Polly. + +"And will you never try me again--and never give me music lessons?" +asked Amy fearfully. + +"I do not seem to teach you successfully," said Polly very slowly, "so +it would be no use to continue the lessons." And she put aside the +clinging hands. "You may stay here, Amy; I am coming, Ben," looking over +at him. + +"I'll play," cried Amy Loughead desperately. "I'd rather, oh, dear me, +if they were bears and gorillas looking on--and I just know I shall +die--but I'd rather, Miss Pepper, than to have you give me up." + +Charlotte Chatterton drew a long breath. + +"What's the matter?" asked Ben in dismay. + +"Miss Loughead was a little scared, I believe," said Charlotte, with a +touch of scorn in her manner. + +Ben gave an uneasy exclamation. "Everything seems to be all right now," +he said, in a relieved way, looking off at Polly and Amy. + +"Oh, yes; a scare don't amount to much if one has a mind to put it +down," said Charlotte. + +"I should think you'd be scared," said Ben, looking at her admiringly, +"to stand up and sing before all those people. But I suppose you never +are; you don't seem to mind things like the rest of us." + +Charlotte shrugged her shoulders, but said nothing. + +"We are all ready," said Polly cheerfully coming up with Amy. "Oh, +Charlotte, you are such a comfort," she found time to whisper. + +Charlotte clasped her hands tightly together so that an ominous rent +appeared in one of her pretty gloves. "I'll sing," she kept saying to +herself all the way out to the platform, "oh, I'll sing--I'll sing." And +later on, while looking down into the eyes of the girls waiting to +applaud, "I'll sing--I'll sing," she had to declare to herself till her +name was announced. + +As the last note died away, "Who is that girl?" went around the hall. +Charlotte Chatterton had made a sensation. + +Alexia Rhys, angry at the effect of the song, still clapped steadily +together her soft-gloved hands, looking at Polly with the air of a +martyr all the while. + +"Charlotte--oh, I'm glad!" whispered Polly radiantly, "they want you to +sing again," trying to pull her forward, as the storm of applause went +on. + +"I'll not sing!" cried Charlotte passionately. "Never! Don't ask it, +Polly." + +"Why, Charlotte!" implored Polly, astonished at the passion in the girl +usually so cold and indifferent. Still the applause continued, Polly's +set keeping at it like veterans. + +Ben ran up the platform steps with shining eyes. "Grandpapa requests +Charlotte to sing again," he whispered to Polly. + +"There, you hear, Charlotte." said Polly. "Grandpapa wishes it." + +"Very well," said Charlotte, resuming her ordinary manner, and looking +as if it really made no difference to her whether she sang or was quiet, +she walked to her place. + +Polly slipped back of the piano, and began the accompaniment, and again +Charlotte's singing carried all by storm. + +Polly, looking down into Jasper's face, saw him smile over to his +father, and nod in a pleased surprise; and she was aghast to feel a +faint little wish begin to grow in her heart, that Charlotte Chatterton +had not been asked to sing. + +"Of course Jasper is surprised, as he has never heard her sing," said +Polly to herself, "and her voice is so beautiful in this big hall, oh, +it's so very beautiful!" as Charlotte came back, apparently not hearing +the expressions of delight that rang over the concert-room. + +"That Chatterton girl will be all the rage now," whispered Alexia +savagely to Clem who sat next to her. "Look at Mrs. Cabot. She has her +'I'll-take-you-up-and-patronize-you air' on, and I know she's making up +her mind to give Charlotte a musicale." + +Other people also, scattered here and there in the hall, were making up +their minds to introduce Miss Chatterton to their friends; as a girl +with such a wonderful voice, it would be quite worth one's while to +bring out. + +Polly, by this time, explaining to the audience, the failure of Miss +Anderson to take her part in the duet, caught little ends of the +whispers going on beneath her, such as "Perfectly exquisite." "Most +wonderful range." "Shall certainly ask her to sing." And again she saw +Jasper's beaming face, while Ben took no pains to conceal his delight. +And she sat down to the piano mechanically, and began in a dazed way to +help Miss Porter through with the duet that was to have been one of the +finest things on the carefully prepared programme. + +[Illustration: "FOR SHAME, POLLY, IF THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE TEACHINGS +ARE FORGOTTEN LIKE THIS"] + +Suddenly, in the midst of a slow movement, Polly glanced down and caught +her mother's eye. + +"Polly," it said, just as plainly as if Mrs. Fisher had spoken, "is this +my girl? For shame, if the Little Brown House teachings are forgotten +like this." + +Polly straightened up, sent Mamsie down a bright smile that made Mrs. +Fisher nod, and flash back one in return, then bent all her energies to +making that duet speak its message through the concert-room. People who +had rather languished in their chairs, now gathered themselves up with +fresh interest, and clapped their hands at the brilliant passages, and +exclaimed over the ability of the music teacher who could change an +apparent failure to such a glorious success. Everybody said it was +wonderful; and when the duet was over, the house rang with the charming +noise by which the gratified friends tried to express their delight. But +Polly saw only Mamsie's eyes, filled with joy. + +Meantime, Charlotte Chatterton had hurried out to the dressing-room, +tossing on her walking things with a quick hand; and held fast for a +minute as she crept out into the broad passage, by the duet now in full +progress, she went softly down the stairs. + +When it was all over, everybody crowded around Polly. + +"Oh, Miss Pepper, your Recital is lovely! oh, how beautifully Miss +Chatterton sang!" and, + +"Oh, Miss Pepper, I am delighted with your pupils' progress; and what an +exquisite voice Miss Chatterton has!" + +And then it was, "Oh, it must have been so hard, Miss Pepper, for you to +excuse Miss Anderson at the last minute; and we can't thank you enough +for letting us hear Miss Chatterton sing." + +"Oh, I shall fly crazy to hear them go on," cried Alexia to a little +bunch of girls back of the crowd; "will nothing stop them?" wringing her +hands angrily together. "It's all Chatterton, Chatterton now; and after +Polly's magnificent playing too. Oh dear me, I knew it would be so!" + +Polly turned, with a happy face, to pull Charlotte forward to hear the +kind things. "Why, where"-- + +"Oh, she's gone home," answered Alexia, stepping forward +hastily--"Hasn't she, girls?" appealing to them. "She must have; she +went out like a shot. Don't, Polly, how can you?" she begged, turning +back to twitch Polly's arm, "you've done enough, I should think." + +"What did she run off for?" cried Jasper, scaling the platform steps. +Polly glanced quickly up into his beaming face. + +"Oh, Jasper, she has gone home--I couldn't help it," and her face fell. + +He looked annoyed. "Never mind, Polly," he said, his brow clearing, +"father wanted to introduce her to some friends, that's all. Well, and +wasn't it a grand success, though!" and he beamed at her. + +"Yes," said Polly, settling Amy's music with an unsteady hand. + +"And Charlotte really surprised us all," he went on gaily. "Why, Polly, +who would think that we have--or you rather, for you have done it +all--the honor to bring out a nightingale! Here, let me do that for +you." He was fairly bubbling over with delight, and as he essayed to +take the music out of Polly's hand, he laughed again. "Dear me, how +stupid I am," as a piece fluttered to the floor. + +"And didn't Amy do nicely?" asked Polly beginning to feel a bit tired +now. + +"Yes, indeed," assented Jasper enthusiastically, as he recovered the +piece. "Just splendidly! I didn't know she had so much music in her. Oh, +here comes a horde of congratulations, Polly." He threw her the +brightest of smiles as he moved to make way for a group of friends +hurrying up to shower Polly with compliments, and every one had +something delightful to add of Charlotte Chatterton's singing. + +"Jasper couldn't help but be happy over Charlotte's singing," said Polly +to herself, and looking after him, "it's so beautiful," as they came up. + +"Where are you going, Polly?" called Alexia at last, when it was all +over, and the janitor was closing the big outer door, as Polly ran ahead +of the girls and down the long steps of The Exeter. + +[Illustration: POLLY TURNED AND WAVED HER MUSIC-ROLL AT THEM] + +Polly turned and waved her music-roll at them for a reply. + +"Now somebody is going to carry her off," grumbled Alexia; "hurry up, +girls, let's see who it is." So they ran as lightly as Polly herself, +after her, down the steps, only in time to see old Mr. King help her +into the carriage with Mrs. Fisher and Phronsie, and drive rapidly off. + +"Whatever in the world is the matter?" cried Alexia, running up to +Jasper who was watching them speed away. + +"Why, Polly thinks Charlotte is sick," explained Jasper, "because she +went home before the Recital was out." + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Alexia angrily. "What is the matter with +Polly, Jasper? She grows worse and worse. Why can't she let Charlotte +Chatterton alone, pray tell. I, for one, should think mischief enough +had been done by that girl." + +"You should think mischief enough had been done by Charlotte?" repeated +Jasper in astonishment. "I must say, Alexia, that I fail to understand +you." + +"To hear people praise to the very skies that Chatterton girl," cried +Alexia in a passion--she was actually stamping her foot now--"oh, oh! +why don't some of you say something?" she cried, appealing suddenly to +the girls. "You all feel as I do about Polly's pushing forward that +girl; and there you stand and make me do all the talking." + +Jasper looked grave at once. "There is no occasion for any one to exert +herself to talk over this," he said. "It is Polly's affair, and hers +alone." He raised his hat to her, and to the rest of the group, and +walked off. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +PHRONSIE HAS A PLAN. + + +Phronsie was the first to reach Charlotte's door. + +"Charlotte?" she called softly through the keyhole. There was no answer, +and after one or two ineffectual attempts, Phronsie turned fearfully +away. + +"I do believe something is in the room with Charlotte," she said, as +Polly came running up the stairs. Then she sat down on the top step and +clasped her hands. "I heard it raging up and down." + +"Oh, no, Phronsie," said Polly reassuringly, "there couldn't be anything +in there with Charlotte. I'll try," and she laid a quick hand on the +knob. "Oh, Charlotte, do open the door; you are worrying us all so," +called Polly imploringly. + +Charlotte flung wide the door. Two red spots burned on her cheeks, and +her pale blue eyes snapped. But when she saw Polly, she said, "I'm sorry +I frightened you, but I'm best alone." + +"Isn't there really anything in here with you, Charlotte?" asked +Phronsie, getting off from her stair, to peer past Polly. "Oh, I'm sure +I heard it raging up and down." + +"That was I," said Charlotte; "I was the wild beast, Phronsie." + +"Oh, dear," breathed Phronsie. + +"And oh!" exclaimed Polly. + +"Charlotte," said Phronsie, coming in to slip her hand into Charlotte's, +"it was just beautiful when you sang; I thought it was birds when you +went clear up into the air. I did really, Charlotte." + +"Oh, don't!" begged Charlotte, looking over at Polly. + +"Come down to dinner, Charlotte," said Polly quickly. "Really you must, +else I am afraid Grandpapa will be up here after you." + +"I don't want any dinner," said Charlotte, drawing back. + +"Indeed, but you must come down," said Polly firmly, holding out her +hand. "Come, Charlotte." + +"Let me smooth your hair," begged Phronsie, standing on tiptoe; "do bend +down just a very little, please. There, that's it," patting Charlotte's +head with both hands; "now you look very nice; you really do--doesn't +she, Polly." + +"Yes, indeed," said Polly cheerily, "just as fine as can be. There, they +are coming after us," as quick footsteps sounded in the hall below. +"Hurry, Charlotte, do. We're coming, boys," she called. + +They had just finished dinner, when a note was handed Polly. It ran +thus: + +"Do, dear Polly, run over to-morrow morning early. I want to consult you +in regard to asking Miss Chatterton to sing at my next 'At Home.' I +should be charmed to have her favor us. + +"FELICIA A. CABOT." + +"The very thing!" exclaimed Jasper, with only a thought for Polly's +pleasure, when Polly had cried, "How nice of Mrs. Cabot!" "Don't you say +so, father?" he added. + +"Assuredly," said old Mr. King with great satisfaction in Polly's +pleasure, and at her success in drawing Charlotte out. And then he +thought no more about it, and the bell ringing and Mr. Alstyne coming +in, he went off into the library for a quiet chat. + +And after this, there were no more quiet days for Charlotte Chatterton. +Everybody who was musical, wanted to revel in her voice; and everybody +who wasn't, wanted the same thing because it was so talked about. So she +was asked to sing at musicales and receptions without end, until Alexia +exclaimed at last, "They are all raving, stark-mad over her, and it's +all Polly's own fault, the whole of it." + +Phronsie laid down the note she was writing to Mrs. Fargo, a fortnight +later, and said to herself, "I would better do it now, I think," and +going out, she went deliberately to old Mr. King's room, and rapped at +the door. + +"Come in!" called the old gentleman, "come in! Oh, bless me, it's you, +Phronsie!" in pleased surprise. + +"Yes, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, coming in and shutting the door +carefully, "I came on purpose to see you all alone." + +"So you did, dear," said Mr. King, highly gratified, and pushing away +his writing table, he held out his hand. "Now, then, Phronsie, you are +never going to be too big, you know, to sit on my knee, so hop up now." + +"Oh, no, Grandpapa," cried Phronsie in a rapture, "I could never be too +big for that," so she perched up as of old on his knee, then she folded +her hands and looked gravely in his face. + +"Well, my dear, what is it?" asked the old gentleman presently, "you've +come to tell me something, I suppose." + +"Yes, Grandpapa, I have," said Phronsie decidedly, "and it is most +important too, Grandpapa, and oh, I do wish it so much," and she clasped +her hands tighter and sighed. + +"Well, then, Phronsie, if you want it, I suppose it must be," said Mr. +King, quite as a matter of course. "But first, child, tell me what it +is," and he stroked her yellow hair. + +"Grandpapa," asked Phronsie suddenly, "how much money did Mrs. Chatterton +say I was to have?" + +"Oh, bless me!" exclaimed Mr. King, with a start. "Why, what makes you +ask such a question? Oh, she left you everything she had, Phronsie; a +couple of millions or so it is; why?" + +"Grandpapa," asked Phronsie, looking intently at him, "isn't Charlotte +very, very poor?" + +"Charlotte poor?" repeated the old gentleman. "Why, no, not exactly; her +father isn't rich, but Charlotte, I think, may do very well, especially +as I intend to keep her here for a while, and then I shall never let her +suffer, Phronsie; never, indeed." + +"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, "wasn't Mrs. Chatterton aunt to Charlotte?" + +"Yes; that is, to Charlotte's father," corrected Mr. King. "But what of +that, child, pray? What have you got into your head, Phronsie?" + +"If Mrs. Chatterton was aunt to Charlotte," persisted Phronsie +slowly, "it seems as if Charlotte ought to have some of the money. It +really does, Grandpapa." + +"But Cousin Eunice didn't think so, else she'd have left it to +Charlotte," said Mr. King abruptly, "and she did choose to leave it to +you. So there's an end of it, Phronsie. I didn't want you to have it, +but the thing was fixed, and I couldn't help myself. And neither can we +do anything now, but take matters as they are." + +"I do think," said Phronsie, without taking her eyes from his face, +"that maybe Mrs. Chatterton is sorry now, and wishes that she had left +some money to Charlotte. Don't you suppose so, Grandpapa?" and one hand +stole up to his neck. + +"Maybe," said the old gentleman, with a short laugh, "and I shouldn't +wonder if Cousin Eunice was sorry over a few other things too, +Phronsie." + +"Wouldn't it make her very glad if I gave Charlotte some of the money?" +Phronsie's red lips were very close to his ear now, "oh, I do want to so +much; you can't think, Grandpapa, how much!" + +For answer, Mr. King set her down hastily on the floor, and took two or +three turns up and down the room. Phronsie stood a moment quite still +where he left her, then she ran up to him and slipped her hand within +his. + +"Oh, I do so wish I might," she said, "there's so much for a little girl +like me. It would be so nice to have Charlotte have some with me." + +Still no answer. So Phronsie went up and down silently by his side for a +few more turns. Then she spoke again. "Does it make you sorry, Grandpapa +dear, to have me want Charlotte to have the money with me?" she asked +timidly. + +"No, no, child," answered Mr. King hastily, "and yet I don't know what +to say. I don't feel that it would be right for you to give any of your +money to her." + +"Right?" cried Phronsie, opening her brown eyes very wide. "Why, isn't +the money my very own, Grandpapa?" + +"Yes, yes, of course; but you are too young to judge of such things," +said the old gentleman decidedly, "as the giving away of property and +all that." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Phronsie, in gentle reproach, and standing +very tall. "Why, I am thirteen." + +"And when you get to be ten years older, you might blame me," said Mr. +King, "and I can't say but what you'd have reason if I let you do such a +thing as to give away any money to Charlotte." + +"Blame you? Why, Grandpapa, I couldn't." Phronsie drew a long breath, +then threw herself convulsively into his arms, her face working hard in +her efforts not to cry. But it was no use, and Mr. King caught her in +time to see the quick drops roll down Phronsie's cheek and to feel them +fall on his hand. + +"Oh, dear me!" he cried in great distress, "there, there, child, you +shall give away the whole if you wish; I've enough for you without +it--only don't cry, Phronsie. You may do anything you like, dear. +There," mopping up her wet little face with his handkerchief, "now +that's a good child; Phronsie, you are not going to cry, of course not. +There, do smile a bit; that's my girl now," as a faint light stole into +Phronsie's eyes. "I didn't mean you'd really blame me, only"-- + +"I couldn't," still said Phronsie, and it looked as if the shower were +about to fall again. + +"I know, child; you think your old Grandpapa does just about right," +said Mr. King soothingly, and highly gratified. + +"He's ever and always right," said Phronsie, still not moving. + +"Bless you, child," cried the old gentleman, much moved, "I wish I could +say I believed what you say. But many things in my life might have been +bettered." + +"Oh, no, Grandpapa," protested Phronsie in a tone of horror, "they +couldn't have been better. Don't, Grandpapa, don't!" she caught him +around the neck imploringly. + +"Well, I won't, child," promised Mr. King, holding her close. "And now, +Phronsie, I'll tell you; I'll think of all this that you and I have +talked over, and I'll let you know by and by what you ought to do about +it, and you mustn't say anything about it to anybody, not to a single +soul, child. It shall be just a secret between you and me." + +"I won't, Grandpapa," said Phronsie obediently, and patting his broad +back with her soft hand. + +"And, meantime," said Mr. King, quite satisfied, "why, Charlotte is +having pretty good times, I think. Polly is looking out for that." + +"Polly is making her have beautiful times," said Phronsie happily, "oh, +very beautiful times indeed, Grandpapa." + +"I expect she's an awful nuisance," the old gentleman broke out +suddenly. + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Phronsie, breaking away from him to look into +his face. + +"Well, well, perhaps I shouldn't say quite that," said Mr. King, +correcting himself. "But, well, now, Phronsie, you run back to your +play, child, and I'll set to work at once to think out this matter." + +"I was writing a note to Mrs. Fargo," said Phronsie, putting up her lips +for a kiss. "You are sure you won't make your head ache thinking about +it, Grandpapa?" she asked anxiously. + +"Sure as I can be, Phronsie," said old Mr. King, smiling. "Good-by, +dear." + + * * * * * + +"See here, Pickering," Mr. Cabot threw wide the door of his private +office with a nervous hand. "It is time I had a good talk with you. Come +in; I never get one nowadays." + +"Can't stop, Uncle," said Pickering hastily. "Besides, what would be the +use, you never see anything encouraging about me or my career. And I +believe I am going to the dogs." + +"Indeed you are not, Pickering," cried Mr. Cabot quickly, the color +rising to his cheek. "There, there, my sister's boy shall never say +that. But come in, come in." He laid hold of Pickering's arm and gently +forced him into the little room. + +Not to be ungracious, the young man threw himself into a chair. "Well, +what is it, Uncle? Do out with it; I'm in no mood for a lecture, though, +this morning." + +"I'm not going to lecture you, my boy," said Mr. Cabot, closing the +door, then going to the mantel to lean one elbow on it, a favorite +attitude of his, while he scanned his nephew. "But something worse than +common has come to you. Can I help in any way?" + +"No, no, don't ask me," ejaculated Pickering, striking his knee with one +glove, and turning apprehensively in his chair. "Oh, hang it, Uncle, why +can't you let me alone?" + +"I've seen this thing, whatever it is, coming upon you for sometime," +said Mr. Cabot, too nervous to notice the entreaty in Pickering's voice +and manner, "and I cannot wait any longer to find out the trouble. It's +my right, Pickering; you have no father to see to you, and I've always +wanted to have the best success be yours." He turned away his head now, +a break coming in his voice. + +[Illustration: "I'M NOT GOING TO LECTURE YOU."] + +"You have, Uncle, you have," assented Pickering, brought out a trifle +from his distress, "but then I'm not equal to the strain my relatives +put upon me. Not worth it, either," he added, relapsing into his gloom. +Then he shoved his chair so that he could not look his uncle in the +face, and bent a steady glance out of the window. + +Mr. Cabot gave a nervous start that carried him away from the mantel a +step or two. But when he was there, he felt so much worse, that he soon +got back into the old position. + +"I don't see, Pickering," he resumed, "why you shouldn't get along. +You're through college." + +"Which is a wonder," interpolated Pickering. + +"Well, I can't say but that I was a good deal disturbed at one time," +said Mr. Cabot frankly; "but never mind that now, you are through," and +he heaved a sigh of relief, "and nicely established with Van Metre and +Cartwright. It's the best law firm in the town, Pickering." Mr. Cabot +brought his elbow off from the mantel enough to smite his palms together +smartly in enthusiasm. "I got you in there." + +"I know you did, Uncle," said Pickering; "you've done everything that's +good. Only I repeat I'm not worth it," and he drummed on the chair-arm. + +"For Heaven's sake, Pickering!" cried his uncle, darting in front of the +chair and its restless occupant, "don't say that again. It's enough to +make a man go to the bad, to lose hope. What have you been doing lately? +Do you gamble?" + +"What do you take me for?" demanded Pickering, starting to his feet with +flashing eyes, and throwing open his top-coat as if the weight oppressed +him. "I've been a lazy dog all my life, and a good-for-naught; but I +hope I've not sunk to that." + +"Oh, nothing, nothing--I'm sure I didn't mean," cried Mr. Cabot, +starting back suddenly in astonishment. "Dear me, Pickering," taking off +his eyeglasses to blow his nose, "you needn't pick me up so violently. +I've been much worried about you," settling his glasses again for +another look at his nephew. "And I can't tolerate any thoughts I cannot +speak." + +"I should think not," retorted Pickering shortly; "the trouble is in +having the thoughts." + +"And I am very much relieved to find that my fears +are groundless--that you've been about nothing that my sister or I +should be ashamed of," and he picked up courage to step forward gingerly +and pat the young man on the shoulder. "You are in trouble, though, and +I insist on knowing what it is." + +Pickering dropped suddenly beneath his uncle's hand, into the nearest +chair. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THINGS ARE GETTING MIXED. + + +"How can you ask me, Uncle?" cried Pickering passionately. + +"Because I will know." Mr. Cabot was quite determined. + +"Well, then, if you must have it, it's--it's Polly Pepper." Pickering +could get no further. + +"It's Polly Pepper!" ejaculated Mr. Cabot. Then a light broke over his +face, and he laughed aloud, he was so pleased. "You mean, you are in +love with Polly Pepper?" + +"As if everybody didn't know it?" cried Pickering hotly. "Don't pretend, +Uncle, that you are surprised;" he was really disrespectful now in +manner. "Oh, beg pardon, sir," recovering himself. + +"Never mind," said Mr. Cabot indulgently, "you are over-wrought this +morning. My boy," and he came over and clapped his nephew on the back +approvingly, "that's the best thing you ever told me; you make me very +happy, and"-- + +"Hold, Uncle," cried Pickering, darting away from the hand, "don't go so +fast. You are taking too much for granted." + +Mr. Cabot for answer, bestowed another rap, this time on Pickering's +arm, indulging all the while in the broadest of smiles. + +Just then some one knocked at the door, and in response to Mr. Cabot's +unwilling "Come in," Ben's head appeared. "Beg pardon, Mr. Cabot, but +Mr. Van Metre wants you out here." + +Pickering lunged past Ben. "Don't stop me," he cried crossly, in +response to Ben's "Well, old fellow." + +Ben stared after him with puzzled eyes as he shot down the long store; +and all that afternoon he could not get Pickering and his strange ways +out of his mind, and on the edge of the twilight, jumping out of his car +at the corner nearest home, he buttoned up his coat and rushed on, +regardless that Billy Harlowe was making frantic endeavors to overtake +him. + +"What's got into the old chap," said Ben to himself, pushing on doggedly +with the air of a man who has thoughts of his own to think out. "I +declare, if I should know Pickering Dodge lately; I can't tell where to +find him." + +[Illustration: "DON'T STOP ME," CRIED PICKERING CROSSLY.] + +And with no light on his puzzle, Ben turned into the stone gateway, and +strode up to the east porch to let himself in as usual, with his latch +key. As he was fitting it absently, all the while his mind more intent +on Pickering and his changed demeanor than on his own affairs, he heard +a little rustling noise that made him turn his head to see a tall figure +spring down the veranda floor in haste to gain the quickest angle. + +"Charlotte, why, what are you doing out here?" exclaimed Ben, leaving +his key in the lock to look at her. + +"Don't speak!" begged Charlotte hastily, and coming up to him. "Somebody +will hear you. I came out here to walk up and down--I shall die in that +house; and I am going home to-morrow." She nervously twisted her +handkerchief around her fingers, and Ben still looking at her closely, +saw that she had been crying. + +"Charlotte, what are you talking about?" he cried, opening his honest +blue eyes wide at her. "Why, I thought you had ever so much sense, and +that you were way ahead of other girls, except Polly," he added, quite +as a matter of course. + +"Don't!" cried Charlotte, wincing, and, "but I shall go home to-morrow." + +"Look here," Ben took out his key and tucked it into his pocket, then +faced Charlotte, "take a turn up and down, Charlotte; you'll pull out of +your bad fit; you're homesick." Ben's honest face glowed with pity as he +looked at her. + +"I'm--I'm everything," said Charlotte desperately. "O, Ben, you can't +think," she seized his arm, "Polly is just having a dreadful time +because I'm here." + +"See here, now," said Ben, taking the hand on his arm in a strong grip, +as if it were Polly's, "don't you go to getting such an idea into your +head, Charlotte." + +"I can't help it," said Charlotte; "it was put there," she added +bitterly. + +Ben gave a start of surprise. "Well, you are not the sort of girl to +believe such stuff, any way," he said. + +Charlotte pulled away her hand. "I'm going home," she declared flatly. + +"Indeed you are not," said Ben, quite as decidedly. + +"O, yes, I am." + +"We'll see;" he nodded at her. "Take my advice, Charlotte, and don't +make a muff of yourself. + +"It's very easy for you to talk," cried Charlotte, a little pink spot of +anger rising on either cheek, "you have everybody to love you, and to be +glad you are here; very easy, indeed!" + +With that, she walked off, swinging her gown disdainfully after her. + +"Whew!" ejaculated Ben, "well, I must say I'm surprised at you, +Charlotte. I didn't suppose you could be jealous." + +"Jealous?" Charlotte flamed around at him. "O, Ben Pepper, what do you +mean?" + +"You are just as jealous as you can be," said Ben honestly, "absolutely +green." + +"I'd have you to know I never was jealous in my life," said Charlotte, +quite pale now, and standing very still. + +"You don't know it, but you are," said Ben imperturbably; "when people +begin to talk about other folks being loved and happy and all that, +they're always jealous. Why in the world don't you think how everybody +is loving you and wanting to make you happy?" It was quite a long speech +for Ben, and he was overcome with astonishment at himself for having +made it. + +[Illustration: "I'M GOING HOME." DECLARED CHARLOTTE.] + +"Because they are not," said Charlotte bitterly, "at least, they can't +love me, if they do try to make me happy." + +"Stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed Ben. + +"And Polly"--then Charlotte pulled herself up. + +"Well, what about Polly?" demanded Ben. + +"Oh, nothing." Charlotte twisted uneasily, and shut her lips tightly +together. + +"If you think my sister Polly doesn't love you and want to make you +happy, there's no use in my talking to you," said Ben, in a displeased +way. + +"I didn't say so," cried Charlotte quickly. "Oh, don't go. You are the +only one who can help me," as he made a movement toward the door. "I +never told anybody else, and they don't guess." + +"And it's a pity that they should now," said Ben. "I tell you, +Charlotte, if you never say anything like this again, I'll believe that +you're the girl I thought you, with plenty of sense, and all that. +There, give us your hand. Hurry up, now; here comes Phronsie." + +Charlotte slowly laid her hand in Ben's big palm, as Phronsie opened the +oaken door, and peered out into the darkness. + +"I can't think what makes Ben so late," she said softly to herself. + +"I'm going into the other door," said Charlotte, springing off down the +veranda. + +"Halloo, Pet!" Ben rushed into the hall, and seized Phronsie for a good +hug. + +"O, Ben, you're so late!" cried Phronsie. + +"Well, I'm here now," said Ben comfortably. + +"You can't think what has happened," said Phronsie, with a delightful +air of mystery. + +"To be sure I can't; but you are going to tell me," declared Ben with +assurance. + +"O, Bensie, I'd so much rather you would guess," said Phronsie, clasping +her hands. + +"Well, then, you have a new cat," said Ben at a hazard, while he +disposed of his coat and hat. + +"O, Ben," cried Phronsie in reproach, "why, I've given up having new +cats; indeed I have." + +"Since when?" asked Ben. + +"Why, last week. I really have. I'm not going to get any more," said +Phronsie. + +Ben shouted. At the sound of his voice, somebody called over the stairs, +"O, Ben, are you home? Come up here." + +"Come on, Pet," cried Ben, "we're wanted," seizing Phronsie, and +hurrying off to the stairs. + +"I did so want to tell you myself," mourned Phronsie on the way. + +"Then you shall." Ben set her on the floor suddenly. "I'll come up in a +minute or so," he called. "There now, Phronsie, we'll have the wonderful +news. Out with it, child." + +"I don't suppose you ever could guess," said Phronsie, pausing a moment, +"I really don't, Ben, because this is something you never would think +of." + +"No, I'm quite sure I should never guess in all the world," said Ben +decidedly, "so let us have it." + +"Grandpapa has promised to give us a surprise party," announced +Phronsie, with careful scrutiny to see the effect of her news. + +"A surprise party? Goodness me!" exploded Ben, "what do you mean, +Phronsie?" + +"A surprise party to go and see Jasper; and we are to start to-morrow. +Now, Ben!" and Phronsie, her news all out, beamed up into his face. + +"Oh, so it's Jasper's surprise party," cried Ben. + +"Yes, and it's ours too; because you see we didn't any of us think +Grandpapa was going to do it," said Phronsie. + +"Well, it's my surprise party, too," said Ben lugubriously, "for I'm +astonished; and beside I'm left out in the cold." + +"O, Ben, can't you go?" cried Phronsie, her face falling instantly. + +"No, Pet; wait till you get to be a business man and you'll see that +surprise parties can't be indulged in very often." + +"Won't Mr. Cabot let you go?" asked Phronsie, with an anxious droop of +the head. "O, I think he will; truly I do." + +"I sha'n't ask him," said Ben; "I'm sure of that." + +"But Grandpapa will," said Phronsie, her face changing. + +"No, no, Pet; you mustn't say anything about that. I'd rather stick to +the business. There, come on; they're wild, I suppose, upstairs, to tell +the news." + +Just then some one called Phronsie. "Oh, dear," she sighed +involuntarily, as Ben sped over the stairs without her. + +"I thought you were never coming home, Ben," said Polly, meeting him in +the upper hall. "Oh, we've such a fine thing to tell you!" + +"I'm going to guess," said Ben wisely. + +"Oh, you never can," declared Polly; "never in all this world. Don't +try." + +"Can't I, though? Give me a chance. You are to have a surprise party, +and go to see Jasper. There!" + +"How did you guess?" cried Polly in wide-eyed astonishment. + +Ben burst into a hearty laugh. "Well, I met Phronsie, if you must know." + +"Of course," laughed Polly; "how stupid in me! Well, was ever anything +so fine in all this world?" and she danced down the hall, and came back +flushed and panting. + +"And Grandpapa has written to tell Mr. Cabot how it is, and to ask for a +day or two off for you," she said, with a little pat on his back. + +"O, Polly!" exclaimed Ben, in dismay, "Grandpapa shouldn't--I mean, I +ought not to go. I'd really rather not." + +"Well, Grandpapa says that you are working too hard, Bensie, and it's +quite true," Polly gave him another pat, this time a motherly one; "and +so you are going." + +But Ben shook his head. + +"And we start to-morrow," ran on Polly, "and Jasper doesn't know a word +about our coming; and we are going to stay at the hotel two or three +days." And here Phronsie ran eagerly up the stairs. + +"And it's going to be lovely, and not rain any of the time; and we are +to take Jasper a box full of everything," she announced in great +excitement. "We began to pack it the very minute that Grandpapa told us +we were to go." + +"That's fine! Well, I'll drop something into that box," said Ben. + +"Of course," said Polly, in great satisfaction. + +"And Jasper wouldn't like it not to have something of Ben's in it," said +Phronsie. + +"Well, now, Bensie, run down after dinner and ask Pickering Dodge to go. +That's a good boy." Polly patted the broad back coaxingly this time. + +Ben's face fell. "How do you know that Grandpapa would like to have him +along?" he asked abruptly. + +"As if I'd ask you to invite him," cried Polly, "unless Grandpapa had +said he could go. The very idea, Ben!" + +"Well, something is the matter with Pick," confessed Ben unwillingly, +"and I don't want to ask him." + +"Something the matter with Pickering?" repeated Polly in dismay. "O, +Ben, is he sick?" + +"No," said Ben bluntly, "but he's cross." + +"O, Ben, then something very bad must have happened," said Polly, "for +Pickering is almost never cross." + +"Well, I don't know what to make of him," said Ben; "he's been queer for +a week now, more or less, and to-day he wouldn't speak to me; just shot +off telling me to let him alone;" and Ben rapidly laid before Polly the +little scene of the morning in the store. + +"Now, Ben," said Polly, when it was all over, "I know really that +something dreadful is the matter with Pickering, and I shall send him a +note to come here to-night. He must tell us what it is. I'm going to +write it now." And Polly sped off to her room, followed by Phronsie. + +Ben went slowly down the hall to get ready for dinner. "I don't know how +it is," he said, "but everything seems to be getting mixed up in this +house, and all our good, quiet times gone. And now what can Charlotte +have heard to make her want to go home?" + +And all the time during dinner, Ben kept up a steady thinking, until +Polly, looking across the table, caught his eye. + +"Don't worry," her smile said, "I've sent a note to Pickering, and we'll +find out what the trouble is." + +Ben sat straight in his chair, and nodded back at her. "I can't tell her +now that Pick is not what I'm stewing over," he said to himself, "and I +can't tell her any time, either, for Charlotte has heard something that +makes her think Polly is bothered by her being here. I must just fuss at +it myself till I straighten it out." + +So when Pickering Dodge, with a radiant face at being sent for by +Polly's own hand, ran lightly up the steps of the King mansion, about an +hour later, Ben hurried off to find Charlotte Chatterton. + +"I can't come down," called Charlotte from the upper hall, "I'm tired; +good-night." + +"So am I tired," declared Ben, "but I'm going to talk to you, +Charlotte," he added, decidedly. + +"No; I don't want to talk," said Charlotte, shaking her head. +"Good-night. Thank you, Ben," she added a bit pleasanter, "but I'm not +going down." + +"Indeed you are!" said Ben obstinately. "I'm not going to stir from this +spot," he struck his hand on the stair railing, "until you are down +here. Come, Charlotte." + +"No," began Charlotte, but the next moment she was on the stairs, saying +as she went slowly down, "I don't want to talk, Ben. There isn't +anything to say." + +"Now that's something like," observed Ben cheerfully, as she reached his +side. "Come in here, do, Charlotte," leading the way into Mother +Fisher's little sewing-room. + +"But I'm not going to talk," reiterated Charlotte, following him in. + +"You are going to talk enough so that I can know how to get this +ridiculous idea out of your head," said Ben, as he closed the door on +them both. + +Mr. Cabot hurried into his wife's room, his face lighted with great +satisfaction. "Well, Felicia," he said, "I believe I needn't worry about +that boy any more." + +"Who, Pickering?" asked Mrs. Cabot, with a last little touch to the lace +at her throat. + +"Of course Pickering. Well, he's in better hands than mine. Oh, I'm so +glad to be rid of him;" and he threw himself into an easy chair and +beamed at her. + +"What in the world do you mean, Mr. Cabot?" demanded his wife. "You +haven't had another fuss with Pickering? Oh, I'm quite sure he'll do +well in the Law, if you'll only have patience a little longer." + +"Nonsense, Felicia," said Mr. Cabot, "as if I'd get him out of that +office, when it was such a piece of work to fasten him in there. Well, +to make a long story short, he loves Polly Pepper. Think of that, +Felicia!" And Mr. Cabot, in his joy, got out of the chair and began to +rush up and down the room, rubbing his hands together in glee. + +"O, Mr. Cabot--Mr. Cabot," cried his wife, flying after him, "you don't +mean to say that Pickering and Polly are betrothed? Was ever anything so +lovely! Oh! never mind about dinner; I couldn't eat a mouthful. I must +go right around there, and get my arms around that dear girl. Tell Biggs +to put the horses in at once." + +"Stop just one moment, Felicia, for Heaven's sake!" cried Mr. Cabot, +putting himself in front of her; "that's just like a woman; only hear +the first word, and off she goes!" + +"Do order the carriage," begged Mrs. Cabot, with dancing eyes. "I can't +wait an instant, but I must tell Polly how glad we are. And of course +you'll come too, Mr. Cabot. Oh, dear, it's such blessed news!" + +"I didn't say they were engaged," began Mr. Cabot frantically, "I--I"-- + +"Didn't say that Polly and Pickering were engaged?" repeated Mrs. Cabot. +"Well, what did you say, Mr. Cabot?" + +"I said he loved her," said Mr. Cabot. "O, Felicia, it's the making of +the boy," he added jubilantly. + +Mrs. Cabot sank into her husband's deserted chair, unable to find a +word. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +POLLY TRIES TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT. + + +"O, Pickering!" Polly actually ran into the drawing-room with +outstretched hands. "Why did Jencks put you in here?" + +"I asked to come in here," said Pickering. "I don't want to see a lot of +people to-night; I only want you, Polly." + +"But Mamsie could help you--she'd know the right thing to say to you," +said Polly. + +"No, no!" cried Pickering in alarm, and edging off into a corner. "Do +sit down, Polly, I--I want to talk to you." + +So Polly sat down, her eyes fastened on his face, and wishing all the +while that Mamsie would come in. + +"I don't wonder you think I'm in a bad way," began Pickering nervously; +"it was awfully good in you to send for me, Polly, awfully." + +"Why, I couldn't help it," said Polly. "You know it's just like having +one of the boys in trouble, to have you worried, Pickering." + +"Yes, yes," said Pickering, "I know." + +"Well, I want to tell you something," began Polly radiantly, thinking it +better to cheer him up a bit with her news before getting at the root of +his trouble. "Do you know that Grandpapa is going to take us all +to-morrow to see Jasper? It's to be a surprise party." + +"Ah," said Pickering, all his gladness gone. + +"Yes; and Grandpapa wants you to go with us, Pickering," Polly went on. + +"Oh, dear me--I can't--can't possibly!" exclaimed Pickering, in a tone +of horror. "Don't ask me, Polly. Anything but that." + +"O, yes, you can," laughed Polly, determined to get him out of his +strange mood. "Why, Pickering, we don't want to go without you. It would +spoil all our fun." + +"Well, I can't go," cried Pickering, in an agony at being misunderstood. +"I'd do anything in the world you ask, Polly, but that." + +"Why not, you ridiculous boy?" asked Polly, quite as if it were Joel who +was before her. + +"Because Jasper and I don't speak to each other," Pickering bolted out; +"we had a fight." + +[Illustration: "WHAT DO YOU SAY?" CRIED POLLY.] + +Polly sprang to her feet. "What do you say?" she cried. + +"It's beastly, I know," declared Pickering, his face aflame, "but, +Polly, if you knew--I really couldn't help it; Jasper was"-- + +"Don't tell me that it was any of Jasper's doings," cried Polly +vehemently, clasping her hands tightly together, so afraid she might say +something to make the matter worse. "I know, Pickering, it was quite +your own fault if you won't speak." + +"O, Polly!" exclaimed Pickering, the hot blood all over his face, "don't +say that; please don't." + +"I must; because I know it is the truth," said Polly uncompromisingly. +"If it isn't, why, then come with us to-morrow, Pickering," and her brow +cleared. + +"I can't, Polly, I can't possibly," cried Pickering in distress; "ask me +anything but that, and I'll do it." + +"This is the only thing that you ought to do," said Polly coldly. "O, +Pickering, suppose that anything should happen so that you never could +speak!" she added reproachfully. + +"I'm sure I don't want to speak to a man when I've broken friendship +with him," said Pickering sullenly. "What is there to talk about, I'd +like to know?" + +"If you've broken friendship with Jasper, I'm quite, quite sure it is +your own fault," hotly declared Polly again; "Jasper never turned away +from a friend in his life." And Polly broke off suddenly and walked down +the long room, aghast to find how angry she was at each step. + +"Don't you turn away from me, Polly," begged Pickering in such a piteous +tone that Polly felt little twinges of remorse, and in a minute she was +by his side again. + +"I didn't mean to be cross," she said quickly, "but you mustn't say such +things, Pickering." + +"I must tell you the truth," said Pickering doggedly, "and that is that +I've broken friendship with Jasper, and I can't speak to him." + +"Pickering," said Polly, whirling abruptly to get a good look at his +face, "you must speak to Jasper," and she drew a long breath. + +"I tell you I can't," said Pickering, his face paling with the effort to +control himself. + +"Then," said Polly, very deliberately, yet with a glow of determination, +"you can't speak to me; so good-night, Pickering," and she ran out of +the room. + +Pickering stared after her a moment in a dazed way, then picked up his +hat, and darted out of the house, shutting the door hard behind him. + +Polly, hurrying over the stairs to her own room, kept saying to herself +over and over, "Oh! how could I have said that--how could I? when I want +to help him--and now I have made everything worse." + +"Polly," called Mrs. Fisher, as Polly sped by her door, "you are going +to take the noon train, you know, to-morrow, Mr. King says; so you can +pack in the morning easily." + +"I'm not going, Mamsie; that is--I hope we are not any of us going," +said Polly incoherently, as she tried to hurry by. + +"Not going! Polly, child, what do you mean?" cried Mrs. Fisher aghast. + +"O, Mamsie, don't ask me," begged Polly, having hard work to keep the +tears back. "Do forgive me, but need I tell?" and Polly stopped and +clung to the knob of the door. + +"No, Polly, if you cannot tell mother your trouble willingly, I will not +ask it, child." And Mrs. Fisher turned off, and began to busy herself +over her work. + +Polly, quite broken down by this, deserted her door-knob, and rushed +into the bedroom. + +"O, Mamsie, it's about--about other people, and I didn't know as I ought +to tell. Need I?" cried Polly imploringly, seizing her mother's gown +just as Phronsie would. + +"No more had you a right to tell, Polly," said her mother, "if that is +the case," and she turned a cheerful face toward her; "I can trust my +girl, that she won't keep anything that is her own, away from me. There, +there;" and she smoothed Polly's brown hair with her hand. "How I used +to be always telling you to brush your hair, and now how nice it looks, +Polly," she added approvingly. + +"It's the same fly-away hair now," said Polly, throwing back her +rebellious locks with an impatient toss of the head. "Oh! how I do wish +I had smooth hair like Charlotte's." + +"Fly-away hair, when it's taken care of as it ought to be," observed +Mrs. Fisher, "is one thing, and when it's all sixes and sevens because a +girl doesn't have time to brush it, is another. Your hair is all right +now, Polly, There, go, child;" and she dismissed her with a final loving +pat. "I can trust you, and when your worry gets too big for you, why, +bring it to mother." + +So Polly, up in her own room at last, crept into a corner, and there +went over every word, bitterly lamenting what she had done. At last she +could endure it no longer, and she sprang up. "I'll write a note to +Pickering and say I am sorry," she cried to herself. "Maybe Ben will +take it to him. O, dear! I forgot; Ben is vexed with him; but perhaps he +will leave it at the door. Any way, I'll ask him." + +So Polly scribbled down hastily: + +Dear Pickering: + +I am so sorry I said those words to you; I don't see how I came to. Do +forget them, and forgive + Polly. + +"Ben, Ben!" Polly ran over the stairs, nervously twirling the little +note. "O, dear me, where are you, Ben?" + +"Here," called Ben, "in Mamsie's sewing-room." + +"Oh! I beg your pardon," exclaimed Polly, throwing wide the door on the +tete-a-tete Ben was having with Charlotte. + +"Come in, Polly," cried Ben, his blue eyes glowing with welcome. "That's +all right; you don't interrupt us. Charlotte and I were having a bit of +a talk, but we're through. Now what's the matter?" with a good look at +Polly's face. + +"O, Ben, if you could," began Polly fearfully, "it's only this," waving +the note with trembling fingers. "Now do say you will take this note to +Pickering Dodge." + +"Why, I thought you sent him a note before dinner," said Ben in +surprise. + +"So I did; and he came," said Polly, her head drooping in a shamefaced +way, "and I was cross to him." + +"O, Polly, you cross to him!" exclaimed Ben; "as if I'd believe that!" +while Charlotte stared at her with wide eyes. + +"I truly was," confessed Polly. "There, don't stop, Ben, to talk about +it, please, but do take this note," thrusting it at him. + +But Ben shook his head. "I thought I told you, Polly, that Pick don't +want to speak to me. How in the world can I go at him?" At this +Charlotte stared worse than ever. + +"You needn't go in the house," said Polly, "just leave it at the door. +Ah, do, Ben;" she went up to him and coaxingly patted his cheek. + +"All right, as long as you don't want me to bore him," said Ben, slowly +getting out of his chair. "Here, give us your note, Polly. Of course +you'll make me do as you say." + +"You're just as splendid as you can be," cried Polly joyfully. "There, +now, Bensie," pushing the note into his hand, "do hurry, that's a good +boy." + +And in a quarter of an hour, Ben rushed in, meeting Polly in the hall, +kis face aglow, and eyes shining. "Here, Polly, catch it," tossing her a +note; "that's from Pick." + +"Why, did you see him?" asked Polly, in amazement. + +"Yes; couldn't help it--he was rushing out the door like a whirlwind, +and we came together on the steps," said Ben, with a burst of laughter +at the remembrance, "and we spoke before we meant to; couldn't help it, +you know; just ran into each other--and he read your note, and then he +flew into the house, and was gone a moment or two, and came back +mumbling it was all his fault, and he'd written; that you'd understand, +or something of that sort, and he gave me this note to carry back; and I +guess Pick is all right, Polly." Ben drew a long breath of relief after +he got through; he was so unaccustomed to long speeches. + +Polly tore open her note, and stooped to read it by the dancing flames +of the hall fire. + +To show that I forgive you, Polly, I'll go to-morrow with you all to see +Jasper. + +PICKERING. + +"Won't Jasper be surprised?" Phronsie kept exclaiming over and over, +when they were once fairly in the cars; much to old Mr. King's delight, +who never tired of congratulating himself on planning the outing. +"Grandpapa dear, I do think it was, oh! so lovely in you to take us +all." + +"Well, Jasper has been working hard lately," said the old gentleman, +"and it will be no end of good to him even if it doesn't agree with you, +my pet," pinching Phronsie's ear. + +"Oh, but it does agree with me," said Phronsie in great satisfaction, +"very much, indeed, Grandpapa." + +"So it seems," said the old gentleman. "Well, now, Phronsie," glancing +around at the rest of his party, "everything is moving on well, and I +believe I'll take a bit of a nap; that is, if that youngster," with a +nod toward the end of the car, "will allow me to." + +"I don't believe that baby will cry any more," said Phronsie, with a +hopeful glance whence the disturbing sounds came, "he can't, Grandpapa; +he's cried so much. Now do lean your head back; I'm going to put this +rug under it;" and Phronsie began to pull out a traveling blanket from +the roll. + +Polly, across the car aisle, laid down her book, and clambered out her +seat. "Let me take baby," she said, coming up unsteadily to the pale +little woman who was endeavoring to pacify a stout, red-cheeked boy a +year old, just beginning on a fresh series of roars. + +An old gentleman in the seat back, laid down the paper he had been +trying to read, to see the fresh attempts on the small disturber. + +"He'll tire you out, Miss," said the pale little woman deprecatingly. +"There, there, Johnny, do be still," with an uneasy pull at Johnny's red +skirt. + +"Indeed he won't," laughed Polly merrily. Hearing this, Johnny stopped +beating the window in the vain effort to get out, and deliberately +looked Polly over. "I like babies," added Polly, "and if you'll let me," +to the little mother, "I'm going to play with this one." And without +waiting for an answer, she sat down in the end of the seat, and held out +her hands alluringly to Johnny. + +"Young lady, there are babies and babies," observed the old gentleman +solemnly, and leaning over the back of the seat, he regarded Polly over +his spectacles with pitying eyes, "and I'd advise you to have nothing to +do with this particular one." + +But Johnny was already scrambling all over Polly's traveling gown, and +she was laughing at him. And presently the pale little woman was +stretched comfortably on the opposite seat, her eyes closed restfully. + +"Well done!" cried the old gentleman; "I'll read my paper while the calm +spell lasts;" as the train rumbled on, the sound only broken by Johnny's +delighted little gurgles, as Polly played "Rabbit and Fox" for his +delectation. + +Phronsie looked down the intervening space, and heaved a sigh at Polly's +employment. + +"Don't worry; I like it," telegraphed Polly, nodding away to her. So +Phronsie turned again to her watch, lest Grandpapa's head should slip +from the blanket pillow in a sudden lurch of the cars. + +"I'd help her if I knew how," Charlotte, several seats off, groaned to +herself, "but that lump of a baby would only roar at me. Dear, dear, am +I never to be any good to Polly?" + +She leaned her troubled face against the window-side, her chin resting +on her hand, and gave herself up to the old thoughts. "What did Ben +say?" she cried suddenly, flying away from the window so abruptly that +she involuntarily glanced around to be quite sure that none of her +fellow-passengers were laughing at her. "'You may be sure, Charlotte, if +you keep on the lookout, there will a time come for you to help Polly.' +That's what he said, and I'll hold fast to it." + +On and on the train rumbled. The little mother woke up with a new light +in her eyes, and a pink color on her cheeks. "I haven't had such a sleep +in weeks," she said gratefully. Then she leaned forward. + +"I'll take Johnny now," she said; "you must be so tired." + +But Johnny roared out "No," and beat her off with small fists and feet. + +"He's going to sleep," said Polly, looking down at him snuggled up +tightly within her arm, his heavy eyelids slowly drooping, "then I'll +put him down on the seat, and tuck him up for a good long nap." + +At the word "sleep" Johnny screamed out, "No, no!" and thrust his fat +knuckles into his eyes, while he tried to sit up straight in Polly's +lap. + +"There, there," cried Polly soothingly, "now fly back, little bird, into +your nest." + +Johnny showed all the small white teeth he possessed, in a gleeful +laugh, and burrowed deeper than before within the kind arm as he tried +to play "Bo-peep" with her. + +"You see," said Polly, to the little mother's worried look; "he'll soon +be off in Nodland," she added softly. + +"I've never had any one be so good to me," said Johnny's mother +brokenly, "as you, Miss." + +"Is Johnny your only little boy?" asked Polly, to stop the flow of +gratitude. + +"Yes, Miss; I've buried four children." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Polly, quite hushed. + +The little mother wiped away the tears from her eyes, and looked out of +the window, steadily fixing her gaze on the distant landscape. And the +train sped on. + +"But the worst is, the father is gone." She turned again to Polly, then +glanced down at her black dress. "Johnny and me have no one now." + +"Don't try to tell me," cried Polly involuntarily, "if it pains you." + +She would have taken the thin hand in hers, but Johnny's uneasy +breathing showed him still contesting every inch of progress the +"children's sandman" was making toward him, and she didn't dare to move. + +"It does me good," said the little woman, "somehow, I must tell you, +Miss. And now I'm going to Fall River. Somebody told me I'd get work +there in the Print Mills. You see, I haven't any father nor mother, nor +anybody belonging to Johnny's father nor me." + +"Are you sure of getting work when you reach Fall River?" asked Polly, +feeling all the thrill of a great lonely world, for two such little +helpless beings to be cast adrift in it. + +"No'm," said the little woman; "but it's a big mill, they say, and has +to have lots of women in it, and there must be a place for me. I do +think that times are going to be good now for Johnny and me, and"-- + +A crash like that when the lightning begins on deadly work; a surging, +helpless tossing from side to side, when the hands strike blindly out on +either side for something to cling to; a sudden fall, down, down, to +unknown depths; a confused medley of shouts, and one long shuddering +scream. + +"Oh! what"--began Polly, holding to Johnny through it all. And then she +knew no more. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE ACCIDENT. + + +A roaring sound close to her ear made Polly start, and open her eyes. +Johnny's fat arms were clutched around her neck so tightly she could +scarcely breathe, while he was screaming as hard as he could. + +--"is the matter?" cried Polly, finishing her sentence. + +A pair of strong arms were lifting her up, and pulling her from beneath +something, she could not tell what, that was lying heavily over her, +while Johnny rolled off like a ball. + +"O, Ben!" cried Polly gratefully, as the arms carried her off. And then +she saw the face above her: "Why, Pickering!" + +"Are you hurt anywhere?" gasped Pickering, speaking the words with +difficulty. + +"What is it?" cried Polly, in a dazed way. + +"There's been an accident," said Pickering. "Oh, Polly, say you're not +hurt!" as he set her carefully down. + +"An accident!" exclaimed Polly, and she sprang to her feet and glanced +wildly around. "Pickering--where--where"--she couldn't ask "are Phronsie +and Ben and Grandpapa?" + +But Pickering cried at once, "All right--every single one. Here comes +Phronsie, and Ben too." + +And Phronsie running up, with streaming hair and white cheeks, threw +glad arms around her neck. "Oh, Polly, are you hurt?" And Ben seized +her, but at that she winced; and her left arm fell heavily to her side. + +"Where's Baby?" cried Polly, trying to cover up the expression of pain; +"do somebody look after him." + +"Charlotte has him," said Phronsie, looking off to a grassy bank by the +railroad track, where Charlotte Chatterton sat with Johnny in her lap. + +Polly followed the glance, then off to the broken car, one end of which +lay in ruins across the rails, and to the crowds of people running to +the scene, in the midst of which was the fearful hush that proclaimed +death. + +"Oh! do come and help," called Polly, and before they knew it, she was +dashing off, and running over the grass, up to the track. "There was a +woman--Johnny's mother," she cried, pushing her way into the crowd, +Phronsie and Ben and Pickering close behind--"in the seat opposite me." + +Two or three men were picking up a still figure they had just pried out +from the ruins of the car-end, dropped helplessly on its side, just as +it fell when the fatal blow came. "Let me see her," said Polly hoarsely. +They turned the face obediently; there was a long, terrible gash on the +forehead that showed death to have come instantly to Johnny's mother, +and that "good times" had already begun for her, and her weary feet were +safely at rest in the Heavenly Home. + +Polly drew a long breath, and bending suddenly dropped a kiss on the +peaceful cheek; then she drew out her handkerchief, and softly laid it +over the dead face. "Take her to that farmhouse." She pointed to a large +white house off in the fields. "I will go there--but I must help here +first." + +[Illustration: "OH, POLLY, ARE YOU HURT?"] + +"Yes, Miss," said the men obediently, moving off with their burden. + +"Polly--Polly, come away," begged Pickering and Ben. + +"Grandpapa is sitting on the bank over there," pointed Phronsie, with a +beseeching finger. "Oh, do go to him, Polly; I'll stay and help the poor +people." + +"And no one was hurt," said Ben quickly, "only in this end of the car. +See, Polly, everybody is out," pointing past the crowd into the car, to +the vacant seats. + +"There was an old gentleman in the seat back of me," cried Polly, in +distress. "Hasn't any one seen him?" running up and down the track; "an +old gentleman with a black velvet cap"--amid shouts of "Keep out--the +car is taking fire. Don't go near it." + +A little tongue of flame shooting from one of the windows at the further +end of the car proclaimed this fact, without the words. + +"Has no one seen him?" called Polly, in a voice so clear and piercing +that it rose above the babel of the crowd, and the groans of one or two +injured people drawn out from the ruin, and lying on the bank, waiting +the surgeon's arrival. "Then he must be in the car. Oh, Ben--come, we +must get him out!" and she sprang back toward the broken car end. + +"Keep back, Polly!" commanded Ben, and "I shall go," cried Pickering +Dodge. But Polly ran too, and clambered with them, over the crushed car +seats and window frames of the ruin. + +"He's not here," cried Ben, while the hot flame seemed to be sweeping +with cruel haste, down to catch them. + +"Look--oh, he must be!" cried Polly wildly, peering into the ruin. "Oh, +Ben, I see a hand!" + +But a rough grasp on her shoulder seized her as the words left her +mouth. "Come out of here, Miss, or you'll be killed," and Polly was +being borne off by rescuers who had seen her rush with the two young +men, in amongst the ruin. "I tell you," cried Polly, struggling to get +free, "there is an old gentleman buried in there; I saw his hand." + +"Everybody is out, Miss," and they carried her off. But Ben and +Pickering were already in a race with the flames, for the possession of +the old gentleman, whose body, after the car seat was removed, could +plainly be seen. + +"There's the axe," cried Ben hoarsely, pointing to it, where it had +fallen near to Pickering. + +Pickering measured the approach of the flames with a careful eye. "He is +probably dead," he said to Ben. "Shall we?" + +"Hand the axe," cried Ben. Already the car was at a stifling heat, and +the roar of the flames grew perilously near. Would no one come to help +them? Must they die like animals in a trap? Well, the work was to be +done. Two--three ringing blows breaking away a heavy beam, quick, agile +pulling up of the broken window frame, and in the very teeth of the +flames, young arms bore out the old body. + +A great shout burst from the crowd as they staggered forth with their +burden. Pickering had only strength to look around for Polly, before he +dropped on the grass. + +And when he looked up, the tears were raining on his face. + +"O, Pickering!" cried Polly. "Now there isn't anything more to long for. +You are all right?" + +Pickering lifted his head feebly, and glanced around. The walls of the +"spare room" at the farm-house, gay in large flowered paper, met his +eyes. "Why, where am I?" he began. + +"At good Farmer Higby's," said Polly. And then he saw that her arm was +in a sling. "That's nothing," she finished, meeting his look, "it's all +fixed as good as can be, and has nothing to do but get well--has it, +Ben?" + +Ben popped up his head from the depths of the easy chair, where he had +crouched, afraid lest Pickering should revive and see him too suddenly. + +"How are you, old fellow?" he now cried, advancing toward the bed. +"There, don't try to speak," hurriedly, "everything is all right. Wait +till you are better." + +"How long have I been here?" asked Pickering, looking at Polly's arm. + +"Only a day," said Polly, "and now you must have something to eat," +starting toward the door. + +"I couldn't eat a mouthful," said Pickering, shutting his mouth and +turning on the pillow. + +"Indeed you will," declared Polly, hurrying on. "The doctor said as soon +as you could talk, you must have something to eat; and I shall tell Mrs. +Higby to bring it up." So she disappeared. + +"Goodness me! have I had the doctor?" asked Pickering, turning back to +look after her. + +"Yes," said Ben. Then he tried to turn the conversation. But Pickering +broke in. "Did Polly break her arm at--at the first?" he asked, holding +his breath for the answer. + +"Yes," said Ben, "don't talk about it," with a gasp--"Polly says that +she is so glad it isn't her right arm," he added, with an attempt at +cheerfulness. "And the doctor promises it will be all right soon. It's +lucky there is a good one here." + +Pickering groaned. "It's a pity I wasn't in the old fellow's place, +Ben," he said, "for I've got to tell Polly how I wanted to leave him, +and I'd rather die than see her face." + +"See here," cried Ben, "if you say one word to Polly about it, I'll +pitch you out of the window, sick as you are." + +"Pitch ahead, then," said Pickering, "for I shall tell Polly." + +"Not to-day, any way. Now promise," said Ben resolutely. + +"Well--but I shall tell her sometime," said Pickering. "I'd rather she +knew it--but I wish we could have saved him." + +"He's in the other room," said Ben suddenly. + +"Poor old thing--to die like that." + +"Die? He's as well as a fish," said Ben; "sitting up in an easy chair, +and to my certain knowledge, eating dried herrings and cheese at this +very minute." + +"He's eating dried herrings and cheese!" repeated Pickering, nearly +skipping out of bed. "Why, wasn't he dead when we brought him out?" + +"No, only stunned. There, do get back," said Ben, pushing Pickering well +under the blankets again, "the doctor says on no account are you to get +up until he came. Do keep still; he'll be here presently," with a glance +at Mrs. Higby's chimney clock. + +"The doctor--who cares for him!" cried Pickering, nevertheless he +scrambled back again, and allowed Ben to tuck him in tightly. And +presently in came Polly, and after her, a bright apple-cheeked woman +bearing a tray, on which steamed a bowl of gruel. + +[Illustration: OLD MR. KING DREW UP HIS CHAIR TO OVERSEE IT ALL.] + +And in less time than it takes to tell it, Pickering was bolstered up +against his pillows, and obediently opening his mouth at the right times +to admit of the spoonfuls Polly held out to him. And Phronsie came in +and perched on the foot of the four-poster, gravely watching it all. And +old Mr. King followed, drawing up the easy chair to the bedside, where +he could oversee the whole thing. And before it was over, the door +opened, and a young man, with a professional air, looked in and said in +great satisfaction, "That's good," coming up to the bed and putting out +his hand to Pickering. + +"Here's the doctor," cried old Mr. King, with a flourish of his palm. +"Well, Doctor Bryce, your patient is doing pretty well, I think." + +"I should say so," answered the doctor, with a keen glance at Pickering. +"O, he's all right. How is the arm?" to Polly. + +"That is all right too," said Polly cheerfully, and trying to talk of +something else. + +"Let me feed Pickering, do," begged Phronsie, slipping from the bed, +"while Doctor looks at your arm, Polly." + +"I can wait," said the doctor, moving down to the foot of the +four-poster, where he stood looking at the feeding process, "and I can +go in and see Mr. Loughead meanwhile." + +Pickering dodged the spoon, nearly in his mouth. "Who?" he cried. + +"Dear me," cried Polly, trying to save the gruel drops from falling on +Mrs. Higby's crazy quilt, "how you frightened me, Pickering." + +"Who did he say?" demanded Pickering, as Dr. Bryce went out. + +"Pickering," said Polly, with shining eyes, "who do you think you and +Ben saved so bravely? Jack Loughead's uncle, who has just got here from +Australia, and he's"-- + +Pickering gave a groan and turned on his pillow. "Don't give me any +more, Polly," he said, putting up his hand. + +Polly set the spoon in the gruel bowl, with a disappointed air. + +"Never mind," said the young doctor, coming back again, "he's eaten +enough. Now may I see your arm?" He turned to Polly gently. "We must go +in the other room for that," with a nod at Pickering. + +A thrill went over Phronsie, which she tried her best to conceal, and +she turned quite pale. Polly smiled at her as she went over toward the +door, followed by the doctor, old Mr. King and Ben. Pickering Dodge +clenched his hand under the bedclothes, and looked after them, then +steadfastly gazed at the large flowers blooming with reckless abandon up +and down over the dark-green wall-paper. + +"Phronsie," said Polly, hearing her footsteps joining the others out in +the hall, "will you go in and see how Charlotte is getting on with +Johnny? Do, dear," she whispered in Phronsie's ear, as she gained her +side. + +"I'd rather stay with you, Polly," said Phronsie wistfully, "and hold +your other hand." + +"But I do so want you to help Charlotte," said Polly beseechingly. "Will +you, Phronsie?" and she set a kiss on Phronsie's pale cheek. + +"I will, Polly," said Phronsie, with a sigh. But she looked back as she +went slowly along to the opposite end of the hall. "Please don't hurt +Polly," she said imploringly to the doctor. + +"I won't, little girl," he replied, "any more than I can help." + +"Good-by," called Polly cheerfully, and she threw her a kiss with her +right hand. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Farmer Higby stood on her flat door-stone, shading her eyes with +her hand. + +"Seems's if I sha'n't ever get over the shock," she said to herself, +looking off to the railroad track, shining in the morning sunlight. "To +look up from my sewing and see--la! and 'twas the first time I ever sat +down to that rag-rug since I had to drop it and run over and take care +of Simon, when they brought me word he was 'most cut to pieces in the +mowing machine. My senses! I'm afraid to finish the thing." + +The frightened look in her eyes began to deepen, and she shook as if the +chill of a winter day were upon her, instead of the soft air of a mild +morning in spring. + +"I want to get out in the woods and holler," she declared; "seems's if +then I'd feel better. To look up, expecting to see the cars coming along +real lively and pleasant, just as they always do so sociable-like when +I'm sewing, and then--oh, dear me!" she wrung her fat hands together, +"there, all of a sudden, were two of 'em bumping together, one end +smashed into kindling wood, and t'other end sticking up straight in the +air. Oh! my senses, I don't wonder I thought I was going crazy, and that +I let the rug fly and jumped into the middle of the floor, till I heard +the screaming, and I run to help, and there was that poor soul they were +bringing here, and she dead as a stone. Oh, dear, dear!" + +Mrs. Higby turned away so that she could not see the shining railroad +track, and looked off over the meadow, while a happier expression came +over her features. "I'm awful tickled this house is big," she said, with +a good degree of comfort, "so's Jotham and me could take 'em in. Now I'm +glad we didn't sell last spring, when Mary Ann was married, and move +down to the village. Seems's if Providence was in it. Gracious, see that +man running here! I hope there ain't anything else happened!" and with +her old flutter upon her, Mrs. Higby turned to meet a young man +advancing to the door-stone, with more speed than was ordinarily +exhibited by the natives of Brierly. + +"Is this Mr. Jotham Higby's house?" asked the stranger. And although he +was very pale and evidently troubled, he touched his hat, and waited for +her answer. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Higby; "what do you want? Do excuse me," all in the +same breath, "but I'm all upset; there was an awful railroad accident +along here yesterday. You haven't come to tell of anything else bad, +have you?" And she was sharper than ever. + +"No," said the young man, "my friends are here; you took them in so +kindly. Do show me the way to them." He was quite imperative now, moving +over the flat stone, and into the square entry like one accustomed to +being obeyed. "Which way?" he asked, glancing up the stairs. + +"Oh, my!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, "excuse me, sir; the rooms +upstairs"--nodding like a mandarin in the direction named, "any of +'em--all of 'em; they've got 'em all; you can't make a miss." + +The young man was already opening the door of the room where Dr. Bryce +was examining Polly's arm, old Mr. King and Ben looking on anxiously. + +Polly saw him first. "Oh, Jasper!" she cried, with a sudden start. + +"Take care!" exclaimed Dr. Bryce, looking off from the bandages he was +nicely adjusting, to bestow a keen glance on Jasper. + +Jasper gave one hand to his father in passing, but went straight to +Polly's side, and laid his other hand on her shoulder. + +"It's all right, Jasper," said Polly, seeing he couldn't speak. "Doctor +says my arm is doing beautifully." + +"Well, well," said old Mr. King, trying to speak cheerfully, but only +succeeding in a nervous effort, "this isn't just the most successful way +to give you a surprise party, Jasper, but it's the best we could do. And +we had to send you a telegram, for fear you'd see it in the papers. So +you thought you'd come on and see for yourself, eh?" as Jasper showed no +inclination to talk. + +"Yes," said Jasper, still confining himself to monosyllables. + +"And that's the sensible thing to do," said Ben, with a grateful look at +Jasper, "than to wait till we are able to move on--Pickering and all." + +"Is Pickering Dodge with you?" exclaimed Jasper, quickly. + +Polly turned in her chair, and looked into his eyes. "Yes; Pickering +came with us expressly to see you, Jasper." Then without waiting for an +answer, "He is in the next room; do go and see him." + +"Very well," said Jasper, "I'll be back in a moment or two, father," +going out. + +Pickering Dodge still lay, gazing at the sprawling flowers on the wall, +and doing his best not to count them. The door opened suddenly. "Well, +well, old fellow." Jasper came up to the bedside with the air of one who +had been in the habit of running in every little while. "It's good to +see you again, Pick," he added, affectionately, laying his hand, that +good right hand, on the nervous one playing with the coverlids. + +"Of course you couldn't do what I asked, Jasper; no one could," said +Pickering, rolling over to look at him. "And I was a fool to ask it." + +"But I might have been kinder," said Jasper, compressing his lips; +"forget that, Pick." + +"Don't say any more," said Pickering, his face flushing, "and I know +it's all up with me, any way, Jasper." And he turned pale again. "We +pulled an old fellow out of the wreck, at least Ben did the most of +it--Polly wanted us to; and who do you suppose he is? Why, Jack +Loughead's uncle. Of course _he_'ll be here soon, and it's easy to +see the end." + +At that, Pickering bolted up in bed to a sitting position, and clutched +at the collar of his morning jacket with savage fingers. + +"Don't, Pick," begged Jasper, in an unsteady voice. + +"I'm going to get up," declared Pickering deliberately. "Clear out, +Jasper," with a forbidding gesture, "or I'll pitch into you." + +"You'll lie down," said Jasper decidedly; "there, get in again," with a +gentle push on Pickering's long legs. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, +though, to act like this!" trying to speak playfully. + +Pickering scrambled back into bed, fuming every instant. "To lie like a +log here, while that fellow dashes around carrying everything before +him--it's--it's--abominable and atrocious! Let me out, I say!" And he +dashed toward the edge of the bed, nearly knocking Jasper over. + +"Hold on, there," cried Jasper, pinning down the clothes with a firm +hand, "don't you see"--while Pickering struggled to toss them back "Take +care, you'll tear this quilt!--that I'll help you on to your feet all in +good time? And if you behave yourself, you'll be around, and a match for +any Jack Loughead under the heavens. There, now, will you be still?" + +"Send that dunce of a doctor to me as soon as you can," said Pickering, +rolling back suddenly once more, into the hollow made in the center of +the four-poster. "Dear me, he's sweet on Polly too!" he groaned under +the clothes. + +"Whew!" exclaimed Jasper, pulling out his handkerchief to wipe his +forehead. "I won't agree to hold you in bed again, Pick. I'll send the +doctor," he added, going out, "but you see that you don't lose your head +while I'm gone." + +"I'll promise nothing," said Pickering softly to himself, the moment the +door closed, and slipping neatly out of bed, he tiptoed over and turned +the key in the lock. "There," snapping his fingers in the air, "as if +I'd have that idiot of a doctor around me." Then he proceeded to dress +himself very rapidly, but with painstaking care. + +"I'm all right," and he gave himself a final shake; "that doctor would +have made a fool of me and kept me in bed, like enough, for a week. And +with that Jack Loughead here!" He gave a swift glance into the cracked +looking-glass hanging over the high shelf, and with another pull at his +necktie-end, unlocked the door and went out. + +"Halloo!" + +"Oh, beg pardon!" A long figure that had just scaled the stairs, came +suddenly up against Pickering, stalking along the narrow hall. + +"How d'ye do?" said Pickering quite jauntily, and extending the tips of +his fingers; "just got here, I take it, Loughead?" + +"Yes," returned Jack Loughead. Pickering was made no more steady in his +mind, nor on his feet, by seeing the other's evident uneasiness, but he +covered it up by a careless "Well, I suppose you have come to look up +your uncle, hey?" + +"Yes, oh, yes," said Jack, "of course, my uncle. Well, were any of the +others hurt?" + +"Yes; one woman was killed." Pickering could not trust himself to +mention Polly's broken arm yet. + +Jack Loughead's face carried the proper amount of sympathy. "No one of +your party was hurt, I believe?" he said quickly. + +"Oh, look us over, and see for yourself," said Pickering, beginning to +feel faintish, and as if he would like to sit down. And then the door at +the end of the hall was opened, and out came all the others and the +doctor, who was saying, "I'll just step in and look at the young man, +though he's doing well enough--oh, my gracious!" + +"Thank you, I am doing well enough," said Pickering, with his best +society manner on, and extending his hand, "much obliged, I'm sure; what +I should have done without you, I don't know, of course; send in your +bill, and I shall be only too happy to make it all right." + +Jack Loughead rushed up to Polly. "No one told me--is your arm--" he +couldn't say "broken," being quite beyond control of himself. + +"How are you, Mr. Loughead?" said old Mr. King rather stiffly, at being +overlooked, and putting out his courtly old hand. + +"Oh, beg pardon." Jack mumbled something about being an awkward fellow +at the best, and extended a shaking hand. + +"You are anxious to see your uncle, of course," continued the old +gentleman, leading off down the hall, "this way, Mr. Loughead." + +"Of course, yes, indeed," stammered Jack Loughead, having nothing to do +but to follow. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +JOEL. + + +Joel threw down his books in an uneasy way. "I must give it up; there's +no other way," he exclaimed. + +"Halloo, Joe!" + +"You here?" cried Joel, whirling in surprise. "Come out of your hole, +Dave," peering into the niche between the book-shelves and the bed. +"What are you prowling in there for?" + +"Oh! my cuff-button rolled in here somewhere," said David, emerging +crab-wise, and lifting a red face. "Give us a hand, Joe, and help pull +out the bed. Plague on this room for being such a box! There!" with an +impatient shove. + +Joel burst into a fit of laughter, and then stared; it was such an +unusual thing to see a frown on David's placid face. "What's come over +you, any way? Stand out of the way; I'll have this bed over there in a +jiffy," rolling it into the center of the small room as he spoke. + +David sprang to one side lightly. "Whew! what a dust you kick up," he +cried, snapping his clothes gingerly. + +"So you are in your best toggery," exclaimed Joel, standing straight, +his labors over the bed being completed. + +"Yes, I'm going to the Parrotts' to dinner," said David, hurrying off +for the whisk broom to remove the last speck of dust from his dress +suit. "Of course you've forgotten it, Joe, though I don't suppose you'd +go, any way." + +"No, I wouldn't go, any way," said Joel, tossing back his black locks +from his forehead. "You forget, Dave, it's the Association night." + +David let another little frown settle on his face. "No, I didn't forget +that, Joe, but I do wish you'd think it possible to take a Thursday +evening off once in a while for the sake of your friends, if for no +other reason." + +"Well, I can't," said Joel, getting down on all-fours to hunt for the +button, "so don't let's go over old arguments. Where in time is that +thing? oh"--and he came up bright and shining to his feet, holding the +button between his thumb and finger. "My compliments to you," presenting +it to David. "There, stick it in before it gets lost again, and hurry +off; you look pretty as a pink." + +"Stop your nonsense, Joe," cried David sharply, who hated being reminded +of his girlish beauty. "Well, I'll make the usual excuses for you. +Good-by," and not forgetting to pick up his walking stick with his hat, +he ran off on his way to the florist's for the _boutonniere_ that +must go on before he presented himself at the Parrotts' dinner party. + +Joel shoved back the bed into position with one long thrust that would +have been a godsend to a lagging boat crew; then dashed to the table and +sat down, doggedly throwing open the first book that came to hand. + +"I'd rather chop wood," he exclaimed in the old way, leaning his head on +his hands. "Whew! weren't those good days, though, in the little brown +house, when we had all outdoors to work in!" He dropped his arms to +pinch the muscles of one with his other fingers. "Isn't that beautiful?" +he said affectionately. Then he swung them over his head, tilting back +his chair restfully. + +"What did Mamsie say?" he cried, bringing the chair down with a +remorseful thud. "'I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd go through +creditably.' Here goes!" + +And by the time that Davie was handing in Miss Lulu Parrott to dinner +Joel clapped together his last book, threw on his hat, and rushed out to +a hasty supper at Commons, _en route_ to the Christian Association +meeting. + +Little Perkins ran up to him at the close of the meeting. "Stop a bit. +Pepper, do," he begged; "Johnson's gone back to his cups, and we can't +do anything with him." + +A cloud fell over Joel's face. "Where is he?" he asked. + +"Oh, in the little room back. He won't show his face here, and yet he +can't keep away, he says. You must get your hand on him, Pepper," and +Little Perkins hurried off. + +Joel dashed into the "little room back." "How d'ye, Johnson?" putting +out his hand "Come out for a walk, do; why, this room is stifling." + +"I can't," said Johnson miserably; "you don't know, Mr. Pepper, I've +been drinking, or you wouldn't ask me." + +"Nonsense--but I would, though," said Joel sharply. "Come out, I say, +Johnson; it's enough to make you drink again to stay in such a room." + +Johnson not getting out of his chair, Joel went in and laid hold of his +arm. "It's no use, Johnson," he said, "I can't talk to you here; it's +too hot and close. And I do want a walk, so let's have it together. +There, button up your coat," as they were well out in the hall, and +Johnson flung his hat on his head with a reckless hand. + +As they hurried down the steps they ran against a crowd of college boys. +Johnson shrank up miserably against the stone fence, and tried to look +as small as possible. Glances of recognition passed, and Joel spoke to +right and left as the boys went by. But a few hisses, low and insistent, +were all he got. + +"Do let me go," begged Johnson, still hugging the fence, "you can't save +me; and they hate you enough for such work." + +"Come on!" roared Joel at him, and plucking him off from the fence with +a determined hand. + +"It's time we went for him," said one of the college boys, with a +backward glance at Joel and his companion, "the Deacon is absolutely +insulting. The idea of his speaking to us." + +"Let's have it over to-night," said another. "What do you say?" to the +others. + +"Where's Davina?" asked another. + +"Oh, Pink-and-White is out dining," said the first voice. "My pretty +little girl is safe at the Parrotts'." + +"Sure?" + +"As a gun. Met him with a posy in his button-hole, and sweet as a little +bud himself, and he told me so." + +"All right. He'll stay away late, then; the Parrotts always have music +or a dance after their dinners. Come on." The last speaker rolled up his +sleeves, and boxed imaginary rounds in a scientific manner in the air. + +"Agreed?" the tall fellow who proposed it looked over the whole crew. +"Do you all want to have it done to-night?" as they came to a standstill +on the pavement. + +"Yes--yes." + +"Hush--that cop is looking. Move on, will you? Now, not a man of you +backs out, you understand; if he does, he gets worse than the Deacon +will. All right." + + "_We're all such jolly good fellows, + We're all such jolly good fellows_"-- + +Everybody smiled who passed them singing their way down town. + +"It always does me good to hear those students sing. They're so happy, +and so affectionate toward each other," said one lady, hanging on her +escort's arm. + +He, being a college man, said rapturously, "Oh yes!" + +Joel, back in his own room, threw himself in his easy chair, first +turning down the gas. "Just so much less of a bill for Grandpapa. Our +debt is rolling up fast enough without burning up the money. Dear me, if +Johnson drinks after this, I shall be in despair." He threw up his long +legs, and rested them on the mantel, while he thrust his hands in his +pockets, to think the better. + +A knock at the door. "Come in!" called Joel, not looking around, till a +rushing sound of feet trying to step carefully, called him out of +himself. + +"Now--now!" Two or three swifter than the others, darted for the chair, +but Joel was not in it. On the other side of it, looking at them, his +hands out of his pockets, he stood, saying, "What do you want?" + +"Oh, come, Pepper, it's no use," said a tall fellow, wiry and agile, +"too many against you in this little call. Come along," and he advanced +on Joel. + +"You come along yourself, Dobbs," said Joel pleasantly, and holding up a +fist that looked hard to begin with, "and you'll get this; that's all." + +[Illustration: "You come along yourself, Dobbs," said Joel pleasantly.] + +"Come on, fellows!" Dobbs looked back and winked to the others. "Now!" +there was a shoulder-to-shoulder rush; a wild tangle of arms, followed +by a wilder tangle of legs, and Joel was through the ranks, his black +eyes blazing, and tossing his black hair from his forehead. + +"Do you want some more?" he cried, flirting his fists in the air, "or +will you leave my room?" + +"Lock the door!" "Get up, Bingley," and, "Stop your roaring." "No, we'll +give it to you now, and no mistake." "If you won't come quietly, you +shall some way, Deacon." + +These were some of the smothered cries. + +"Now!" and there was another blind rush; this time, over Bingley, who +didn't heed the invitation to get up. + +Joel, watching his chance to reach the door, had no time before they +were on him, and he heard the key click in the lock. + +"It's for Mamsie now, sure--and for Polly!" he said, setting his teeth +hard. On they came. But Joel, in rushing through as before, was so +mindful of stepping over Bingley carefully, that it lost him an instant; +and a grasp firm as iron, was on his arm. The others rallied, and closed +around him. + +"Unhand me!" yelled Joel, beating them off. But he might as well have +fought tigers, unless he could knock off, with cruel aim, the one +hanging to his arm. It was no time to mince matters, and Joel, only +careful to avoid the face, struck a terrible blow that felled Dobbs +flat. + +"Now will you go?" roared Joel, aghast at what he had done, yet swinging +his arms with deadly intent on either side, "or, do you want some more?" + +There lay two valiant fellows on the floor. The rest drew off and looked +at them. + +"You'll pay for this, Deacon," they declared under their breath. + +"I suppose so," said Joel, still swinging his arms for practice; +"probably you'll wait for me with kindly intent some dark night behind a +tree, as you know I don't carry a pistol. Why don't you have it out now? +Come on if you want to." + +But no one seemed to want to. + +"There'll be a row over this," said one or two, consulting together; "as +long as those thin-skinned fellows don't get up," pointing to the floor, +"we must wait." Suddenly the door was unlocked, and the whole crew +stampeded. + +"See here," cried Joel, bounding after them, "come back and take care of +your two men." + +But the crew disappeared. + +Bingley lifted his head feebly. + +"Just like Dobbs," he said, "get us into a scrape, and then cut." + +"Hush--don't say anything," said Joel, rushing frantically back, "I +think he's dead--oh, Bingley, I'm sorry I hurt you too." + +He was rapidly pouring water into the basin, and dashing it into Dobbs' +unconscious face. "I must go for the doctor," he groaned. "Bingley, he +can't be dead--do say he isn't!" in a flood of remorse. + +Bingley managed to roll over and look at his late leader. "He looks like +it," he said; "I shouldn't think you'd be sorry, Pepper." + +"Oh!" groaned Joel, quite horror-stricken, and dashing the water with a +reckless hand, feeling like a murderer all the time. + +"Bingley, could you manage to do this?" at last he cried in despair. "I +must run for a doctor, there's not a minute to lose." + +"I wouldn't go for any doctor," advised Bingley cautiously; "see; his +eyelids are moving--this row will be all over town if you do." + +But Joel was flying off. "Come back!" called Bingley, "I vow he's all +right; he's opened his eyes, Pepper." + +Joel turned; saw for himself that Dobbs was really looking at him, and +that his lips moved as if he wanted to say something. + +"What is it, Dobbs?" cried Joel, throwing himself down on his knees by +Dobbs' side. + +"Let him alone, and help me up," said Bingley crossly, "I'm hurt a great +deal more. He's tough as a boiled owl. Give us a hand, Pepper." + +But Joel had his ear down to Dobbs' mouth. + +"Where are the fellows?" asked Dobbs in a whisper. + +"Gone," answered Joel, briefly. + +"Gone--and left me here like a dog?" said Dobbs. + +"Yes," said Joel. + +"They couldn't wait, my friend," observed Bingley sarcastically, "for +people of such trifling consequence, as you and I." + +"The deuce! you here, Bingley?" exclaimed Dobbs, in his natural voice, +and trying to get his head up. + +"Oh, you are coming to, are you?" said Bingley carelessly. "Well, Dobbs, +I think you better get on your feet, and help me out, since Pepper +won't; for I vow I can't stir." + +"Oh, I'll help you," declared Joel, getting up to run over and put his +hands under Bingley's arms, paling as he exclaimed, "I didn't mean to +hurt you so, Bingley, on my honor I didn't." + +"And you didn't," said Bingley, wincing with the pain, as Joel slowly +drew him to his feet; "it wasn't your stinger of a blow, Pepper, but +some of those dastardly cads stepped all over me; I could feel them +hoofing me. There, set me in that chair, and I'll draw a long breath if +I can." + +"Now, I shall go for a doctor," declared Joel, setting Bingley within +the easy-chair, and making a second dash for the door. + +"I tell you, you will not," cried Bingley, from his chair. "Wait a +minute, till I see where I'm hurt. I'm coming out of it better than I +thought. Come back, Pepper." + +"Really?" Joel drew off from the door, and looked at him. + +"Yes; go and take care of Dobbs; he was only shamming," said Bingley, +leaning his head comfortably on the chair-back. Dobbs already was on his +feet, and slowly standing quite straight. + +"Sure you don't want any help?" asked Joel, putting out his hand. + +"Thanks, no," said Dobbs scornfully, not looking at the hand, but making +for the door. + +"Let him alone, Pepper," advised Bingley; "a mean, low-lived chap like +that isn't hurt; you couldn't kill him," as Joel looked out anxiously to +watch Dobbs' progress along the hall, at last following him along a bit. + +"He's in his own room, thank fortune," exclaimed Joel, coming back, "and +I suppose I can't do any more. But oh, I do wish, Bingley, it hadn't +happened." + +Joel leaned his elbow on the mantel, and looked down at the easy-chair +and its occupant. + +"Perhaps you'd rather be lying there," said Bingley, pointing to the +floor, "instead, with a flopper under your ear, like the nasty one you +gave me, Pepper." + +"I am so sorry for that, too," cried Joel, in a fresh burst of remorse. + +"I got no more, I presume, than was good for me," said Bingley, feeling +the bump under his ear. "And don't you worry, Pepper, for your mind must +be toned up to meet those fellows. They'll be at some neat little game +to pay you up for this, you may rest assured." + +"I suppose so," said Joel indifferently. "Well, now are you sure I can't +do anything for you, Bingley?" + +"Sure as a gun," said Bingley decidedly; "I'm getting quite limbered +out; so I'll go, for I know my room is better than my company, Pepper," +and he dragged himself stiffly out of his chair. + +"Don't go," said Joel hospitably; "stay as long as you want to; I should +be glad to have you." + +Bingley turned a pair of bright eyes on him. "Thank you," he said, "but +Davina will be in soon, and things will have to be explained a little, +and I'm not quite up to it to-night. No, I must go," moving to the door; +"I don't feel like making a pretty speech, Pepper," he said, hesitating +a bit, "or I'd express something of what's on my mind. But I think you +understand." + +"If you want to do me a favor," said Joel steadily, "you'll stop calling +David, Davina. It makes him fearfully mad, and I don't wonder." + +"He's so pretty," said Bingley, with a smile, and wincing at the same +time, "we can't help it. It's a pity to spoil that lovely name." + +"But you must," declared Joel, growing savage; "I tell you, it just +ruins college life for Dave, and he's so bright, and leads his class, I +don't see how you can." + +"Oh, we're awfully proud of him," said Bingley, leaning heavily on the +table, "of course, and trot him out behind his back for praises and all +that, but when it comes to giving up that sweet name--that's another +thing," he added regretfully. "However, I'll do it, and make the other +fellows, if I can." + +"Good for you!" cried Joel gratefully. "Good-night, Bingley; sure you +don't want any help to your room?" + +"Sure," declared Bingley, going out unsteadily and shutting the door. + +Joel threw himself on his knees by the side of the easy-chair, and +burrowed his head deep within it. "Oh, if I only had Mamsie's lap to lay +it in," he groaned, "and Mamsie's hands to go over it." + +"Joe--Joe!" David flung wide the door, "where are you?" he cried. + +Joel sprang to his feet. + +"Here's a telegram," said David, waving a yellow sheet at him. "I just +met the boy bringing it up. The folks were going to see Jasper--on a +surprise party; something happened to the cars, and Polly has her arm +broken--but that's all," delivered David, aghast at Joel's face. + +"Polly? oh, not Polly?" cried Joel, putting up both hands, and feeling +the room turn around with him. + +"Yes, Polly," said David; "don't look so, Joe," he begged, feeling his +own cheeks getting white, "it's only broken--it can't be bad, for we are +not to go, Grandpapa says; see," shaking the telegram at him. + +"But I shall go--we both must," declared Joel passionately, beginning to +rush for his hat behind the door; "the idea--Polly hurt, and we not to +go! Come on, Dave, we can catch the midnight train," looking at his +watch. + +"But if it makes Polly worse," said David doubtfully. + +Joel's hand carrying the hat to his head, wavered, and he finally tossed +the head-gear into the nearest corner. "I suppose you are right, Dave," +he said helplessly, and sinking into a chair. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE FARMHOUSE HOSPITAL. + + +Jack Loughead marched into his uncle's room. "Well--well--well," +exclaimed the old gentleman with a prolonged look, and sitting straight +in his chair. "So this really is you, Jack? I must say, I am surprised." + +"Surprised?" echoed Jack, getting his uncle's hands in both of his. +"Why, Uncle, I cabled Crane Brothers just as soon as I got your letter, +that I was coming." + +"This is the first thing I've heard of it," said old Mr. Loughead. +"Well, how did you track me here, for goodness' sake?" + +"Why, I saw an account of your accident in the New York paper as soon as +I landed," said Jack. + +"Oh! confound those papers," exclaimed his uncle ungratefully. "Well, I +came near being done for, Jack," he added. "In fact, I was left in the +wreck." + +Jack shuddered. + +"But that little girl there," pointing toward the next room, where the +talking seemed to be going on busily, "insisted that I was buried in the +smash-up, so they tell me, and she made them come and look for me. None +too soon, I take it, by all accounts." The old gentleman placidly tore +off two or three grapes from the bunch in the basketful, put at his +elbow, and ate them leisurely. + +"Phronsie is a good child," said Jack Loughead, with feeling, "and an +observing one, too." + +"Phronsie? Who's talking of Phronsie?" cried his uncle, pushing back the +fruit-basket. "It was the other one--Polly; she wouldn't let them give +over till they pulled me out. So the two young men tell me; very +well-meaning chaps, too, they are, Jack." + +"You said it was a little girl," Jack managed to remark. + +"Well, and so she is," said old Mr. Loughead obstinately, "and a nice +little thing, too, I should say." + +"Miss Pepper is twenty years old," said his nephew suddenly. Then he was +sorry he had spoken. + +"Nonsense! not a day over fifteen," contradicted the old gentleman +flatly. "And I must say, Jack, you've been pretty expert, considering +the time spent in this house, in taking the census." + +"Oh! I knew her before," said Jack, angry to find himself stammering +over what ought to be a simple account enough. + +"Hem--hem!" exclaimed the old gentleman, bestowing a keen scrutiny on +his nephew. "Well, never mind," he said at last; "now, let's to +business." + +"Are you strong enough?" asked Jack, in duty bound, yet longing to get +the talk into safe business channels. + +"Strong enough?" repeated the old gentleman, in a dudgeon, "I'm really +better than I was before the shake-up. I'm going home tomorrow, I'd have +you to know, Jack." + +"You would better not move too soon," said his nephew involuntarily. +Then he added hastily, "At least, take the doctor's advice." + +"Hem--hem!" said his uncle again, with a shrewd smile, as he helped +himself to a second bunch of grapes. + +"Well, now, as to that matter you sent me over to London about," began +Jack, nervously plunging into business. + +"Draw up that chair, and put your mind on the matter, and we'll go over +it," interrupted old Mr. Loughead, discarding the grape-bunch suddenly, +and assuming his commercial expression at once. + +So Jack drew up his chair, as bidden; and presently the financial head +of the Bradbury & Graeme Company, and the enterprising young member who +was the principal part of "Company," were apparently lost to all else in +the world, but their own concerns. + +Meantime, Pickering Dodge was having a truly dreadful time of it. + +The doctor, washing his hands of such a troublesome patient, had just +run downstairs, jumped into his little old gig in displeasure, and was +now half across a rut worn in the open meadow, dignified by the name of +the "Short Road." + +"Do go to bed," implored Ben, studying Pickering's pale face. + +"Hoh, hoh!" Pickering made out to exclaim, "if I couldn't say anything +original, I wouldn't talk. You're only an echo to that miserable little +donkey of a medical man." + +[Illustration: "I'll help you; I'm strong," said Charlotte.] + +"But you really ought to go back to bed," Ben insisted. + +"Really ought?" repeated Pickering, in high disdain; "as if I'd put +myself again under that quack's thumb. No, sir!" and snapping his +fingers derisively at Ben, he straightened up jauntily on his somewhat +uncertain feet. "All I want is a little air," stumbling off to the +window." + +"Well, I'm going to tell Phronsie that my arm is all right," said Polly, +hurrying off; "beside I want to see Johnny"-- + +"It's time for me to look after that young man, too," said old Mr. King, +following her; "I haven't heard him roar to-day. Come on, Jasper; you +must see Johnny." + +As they disappeared, Ben ran over to Pickering, and was aghast to find +that the face laid against the window-casing was deathly white, and that +all his shaking of the broad shoulders could not make Pickering open his +eyes. + +"Jasper," called Ben, in despair. + +"Hush!" Some one came hurrying up. "Don't call Jasper; then Polly will +know. Let me help." + +Ben looked up. "O, Charlotte! that's good. Pick's done up. Call Mrs. +Higby, will you? we must get him to bed." + +"I'll help you; I'm strong." Charlotte held out her long arms. + +Ben looked them over approvingly. "You're right," he said; "it's better +not to stir Mrs. Higby up. There, easy now, Charlotte; put your hands +under there. You are sure it won't hurt you?" + +"Sure as I can be," said Charlotte, steadily moving off in pace with +Ben, as they carried Pickering between them. + +"Excuse me!" Ben rushed in without knocking upon the Bradbury & Graeme +Company. "Do you mind"--to Jack--"I'm awfully sorry to ask it, but I +can't leave him. Will you run to the doctor's and fetch him? Mrs. Higby, +the landlady downstairs, you know, will tell you where to find him." Ben +was all out of breath when he got through, and stood looking at young +Loughead. + +"What's the doctor wanted for?" cried Company, springing to his feet, +and seizing his hat from the table. "Why, of course I'll go--delighted +to be of use--who for?" + +"Pickering Dodge--got up too soon--keeled over," said Ben briefly. "I've +got to stay with him--he's in bed--and we don't want Grandpapa or Polly +to know." + +But Jack Loughead after the first word, was half over the stairs. + +"See here," cried old Mr. Loughead suddenly, as Ben was rushing out, +"can't I see your sister? I'm horribly lonesome," turning in his chair; +"that is, if her arm will let her come," he added, as a second thought +struck him. "Don't ask her if you think she's in pain." + +"Doctor has fixed Polly's arm," said Ben, "and I know she'll like to +come in and sit with you. It's a shame," and his honest face flamed with +regret, "I had to ask such a favor as"-- + +"Tut, tut! go along with you," commanded the old gentleman imperatively, +"and send Polly here; then I'll make by the operation," and he began to +chuckle with pleasure. + +So Ben ran off, and presently Polly, her arm in a sling, came hurrying +in. + +"Bless my soul," cried the old gentleman, "if your cheeks aren't as rosy +as if you had two good arms, and this was an every-day sort of excursion +for pleasure." + +[Illustration: "SO NICE, EVERYBODY IS GETTING ON SO WELL," SAID POLLY] + +"It's so nice," said Polly, sitting down on one of Mrs. Higby's +spare-room ottomans, on which that lady had worked a remarkable cat in +blue worsted reposing on a bit of green sward, "to think that everybody +is getting on so well," and she hugged her lame arm rapturously. + +"Hem--hem! I should say so," breathed old Mr. Loughead, regarding her +closely. "Where have they buried that woman?" he demanded suddenly. + +Polly started. "Out in the meadow," she said softly. "Mrs. Higby wanted +it here instead of in the churchyard. It is under a beautiful oak-tree, +Mr. Loughead, and Mr. Higby is going to make a fence around it, and +Grandpapa is to put"-- + +"Up the stone, I suppose you mean," interrupted the old gentleman. +"Well, and when that's done, why, what can be said upon it, pray tell? +You don't know a thing about it--who in Christendom the woman was--not a +thing." + +"Johnny's mother," said Polly sorrowfully, the corners of her mouth +drooping; "that's going to be on it, and Grandpapa is to have the +letters cut, telling about the accident; and Mrs. Higby hopes that +sometime somebody will come to inquire about it. But I don't believe +anybody ever will come in all this world," added Polly softly, "because +there is no one left who belongs to Johnny," and she told the story the +pale little mother had just finished when the car went over. + +Old Mr. Loughead "hemmed," and exclaimed impatiently, and fidgeted in +his chair, all through the recital. When it was over, and Polly sat +quite still, "What are you going to do with that horrible boy?" he asked +sharply. "Almshouse, I suppose, eh?" + +"O, no!" declared Polly, in horror. "Phronsie is going to take him into +the Home." + +"Phronsie is going to take that little rat into her home?" cried old Mr. +Loughead in disgust. "You don't know what you are talking of. I shall +speak to Mr. King." + +"Johnny is just a dear," cried Polly, having great difficulty not to +spring from her chair, and turn her back on the old gentleman, then and +there. + +"But into your home," repeated old Mr. Loughead, his disgust gaining on +him with each word; "it's monstrous--it's"-- + +"Oh! I didn't mean our home," explained Polly, obliged to interrupt him, +he was becoming so furious. "Johnny is going down to Dunraven, to the +Children's Home," and then she began on the story of Phronsie's company +of children, and how they lived, and who they were, with many little +side stories of this small creature, who was "too cunning for anything," +and that funny little boy, till the old gentleman sat helplessly +listening in abject silence. And the latch was lifted, and young Mr. +Loughead put his head in the doorway, looking as if he had finished a +long tramp. + +"Come in, Jack," said his uncle, finding his tongue. "We've a whole +orphan asylum in here, and I don't know what all; every charity you ever +heard of, rolled into one. Do come in, and see if you can make head or +tail to it." + +"Oh! Mr. Loughead knows all about it," cried Polly brightly, while her +cheeks glowed, "for he went down to Dunraven with us at Christmas, and +he showed the children stereopticon pictures, and told them such nice +stories of places that he had seen." + +"He--my Jack!" exploded the old gentleman, starting forward and pointing +to his nephew. "Great Caesar! he never did such a thing in his life." + +"Ah!" said Polly, shaking her brown head, while she looked only at the +old gentleman, "you ought to have seen, sir, how happy the children were +that day." + +"My Jack went to an orphan asylum to show pictures to the children!" +reiterated the old gentleman, unable to grasp another idea. + +"Do be still, Uncle," begged his tall nephew, jogging his elbow. + +"Here--here's Polly!" cried Jasper's voice. And at the same moment in +sped little Dr. Fisher, his glasses shining with determination, as he +gazed all over the room for Polly. + +"My dear, dear child," he cried, as he spied her. + +And "Papa Fisher!" joyfully from Polly, as she sprang from Mrs. Higby's +ottoman, and precipitated herself into the little doctor's arms. + +"Softly, softly, child," he warned; "you'll hurt it," tenderly covering +the poor arm with his right hand, while he fumbled in his pocket with +the other, for his handkerchief. "Dear me!" and he blew his nose +violently. "Yes; well, you're sure you're all right except this?" and he +held Polly at arm's length and scanned her closely. + +"I am all right if you will only tell me that Mamsie is well, and isn't +worried about us," said Polly, an anxious little pucker coming on her +forehead. + +"Your mother is as bright as a button," declared Father Fisher +emphatically. + +"Come, come!" ejaculated Mr. King, appearing in the doorway; "this isn't +just the way to take possession of Mr. Loughead's apartment. Jasper, I +don't see what you were thinking of. Come, Fisher, my room is next; this +way." + +Polly blushed red as a rose as old Mr. Loughead said briskly, "Oh! I +sent for her to cheer me up, and now, I wish you'd all stay." + +"Beg pardon for this inroad," said little Doctor Fisher, going up to the +old gentleman's chair and offering his hand. "Well, well, Loughead," to +Jack, "this is a surprise party all round!" + +"No inroad at all, at least a pleasant one," old Mr. Loughead kept +saying, while Polly ran up to Jasper: + +"Did Pickering's uncle come with Papa Fisher?" + +"No," said Jasper, with his eyes on Jack Loughead, "the Doctor was all +alone, Polly." + +And then the door of Pickering's room opened, and out came Dr. Bryce, +with bad news written all over his face. + +"I fear brain fever," he said to Dr. Fisher after the introduction was +over, making the two physicians acquainted. "Come," and the door of +Pickering's room closed on them both. + +And twilight settled down on the old square white house, and on the +new-made grave under the oak in the meadow; and Brierly people, by twos +and threes, came to inquire for "the sick young man," going away with +saddened faces. And a messenger from the telegraph office drove up just +as Mr. Higby was pulling on the boots to his tired feet for a long walk +to the village, handing in the message: + +Mrs. Cabot and I will take the midnight train. +RICHARD A. CABOT, + +[Illustration: THEN PHRONSIE GLANCED BACK AGAIN, AND SOFTLY JOGGED THE +CRADLE.] + +And then there was nothing more to do, only to wait for the coming of +Pickering's uncle and aunt. + +And the next day Pickering's calls were incessant for "Polly, Polly," +sometimes upbraiding her as the brown eyes were fastened piteously on +his wild face; and then begging her to just smile at him and remember +how he had loved her all these years. "And now I am going to die," he +would cry. + +"O, Polly! Polly!" Mrs. Cabot would wring her hands and beg at such +times, a world of entreaty in her voice. And then old Mr. King would +interfere, carrying Polly off, and declaring it was beyond all reason +for her to be so annoyed. + +And Phronsie would climb up on the bed and lay her cool little hand +gently on the hot forehead. Then the sick boy's cries would drop into +unintelligible murmurs, while his fingers picked aimlessly at the +coverlet. + +"There! he is better," Phronsie would say softly to the watchers by the +bed, "and I guess he is going to sleep." + +But the quiet only ushered in worse ravings when Pickering lived over +once more the horror of the train-wrecking, and then it took many strong +arms to hold him in his bed. "Come on, Ben," he would shout, struggling +hard; "leave him alone--we shall be caught--the fire! the fire!" until +his strength died away, and he sank to a deathly stupor. + + * * * * * + +Phronsie sat down to write a letter to Mrs. Fargo. One like it was +dropped every morning into the basket set on Mrs. Higby's front entry +table, ready for the neighbor's boy to take to the village post-office. + +DEAR MRS. FARGO: + +[wrote Phronsie, looking off from the wooden cradle that Mrs. Higby had +dragged down from its cobwebby corner under the garret eaves, with the +remark, "I guess Johnny'll sleep well; all the Higbys since the first +one, has been rocked in it."] I must tell you that dear Pickering isn't +any better. [Then she glanced back again, and softly jogged the cradle, +as Johnny turned over with a long sigh.] And Papa Fisher and the other +doctor don't think he is going to get well. And Mrs. Cabot cries all the +time, and Polly cries sometimes too. And we don't know what to do. But I +guess God will take care of us. And Charlotte is going to take Johnny +down to the Dunraven Home in a day or two. She says she can, though I +know she don't like babies, especially boy-babies; she said so once. And +so he will be happy. And that's all I can write to-day, Mrs. Fargo, +because every minute I'm afraid Polly will want me. + +FROM PHRONSIE + +And just the very minute when Phronsie was dotting the "i" in her name. +Mrs. Higby came toiling up the stairs, holding her gingham gown well +away from her feet. + +"Say!" she cried in a loud whisper, and pausing midway to wave a large +square envelope at Phronsie, curled up on the hall window-seat. + +Phronsie got down very softly, and tiptoed over to the stair-railing to +grasp the letter Mrs. Higby thrust between the bars, going back to her +old post, to open it carefully. + +DEAR PHRONSIE: + +I think God meant that I was to have Johnny for my very own. So won't +you give him to me, dear? Let Charlotte bring him soon, please, for my +heart is hungry for a baby to hold. I will make him happy all my life, +Phronsie, so I know you will give him to + +HELEN'S MOTHER. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +ON THE BORDERLAND. + + +Phronsie came into the Higby kitchen, her hands full of wind-blossoms +and nodding trilliums. + +"Pickering will like these," she said to herself in great satisfaction, +and surveying her torn frock with composure, "for they are the very +first, Mrs. Higby," addressing that individual standing over by the sink +in the corner. "Please may I wash my hands? I had to go clear far down +by the brook to get them." + +But Mrs. Higby, instead of answering, threw her brown-checked apron high +over her head. + +Phronsie stood quite still. + +"Why do you put your apron there, Mrs. Higby?" she asked at last. "And +you do not answer me at all," she added in gentle reproach. + +"Land!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, in a voice spent with feeling, "I +couldn't, 'cause I was afraid I sh'd burst out crying, and I didn't want +you to see my face. O, dear! he's had a poor spell since you went out +flowerin' for him, and your pa and Dr. Bryce say he's dyin'. O, dear!" + +Down came the apron, showing Mrs. Higby's eyelids very red and swollen. + +Phronsie still stood holding her flowers, a breathing-space, then turned +and went quickly to the back stairs. + +"Sh! don't go," called Mrs. Higby in a loud whisper after her; "it's +dreadful for a little girl like you to see any one die. Do come back." + +"They will want me," said Phronsie gravely, and going up carefully +without another word. When she reached Pickering's door, she paused a +moment and looked in. + +"I don't believe it is as Mrs. Higby said," she thought, drawing a long +breath, a faint smile coming to her face as she went gently in. + +But old Mr. King put up his hand as he turned in his chair, at the foot +of the bed, and Phronsie saw that his face was white and drawn. And Dr. +Bryce turned also, looking off a minute from the watch that he held, as +if he were going to bid her go away. + +[Illustration: "WHY DO YOU PUT YOUR APRON UP THERE?" ASKED PHRONSIE IN +GENTLE REPROACH. ] + +"Phronsie," said Grandpapa, holding out both arms hungrily. + +Phronsie hurried to him, a gathering fear at her heart, and getting into +his lap, laid her cheek against his. + +"Oh! my dear, you oughtn't to be here--you are too young," said Mr. King +brokenly, yet holding her close. + +"I am not afraid, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, her mouth to his ear, "and +I think Pickering would like me to be here. I brought him some flowers." +She moved the hand holding the bunch, so that the old gentleman could +see it. "He likes wild flowers, and I promised to get the first ones I +could." + +"O, dear!" groaned old Mr. King, not trusting himself to look. + +"May I lay them down by him?" whispered Phronsie. + +"Yes, yes, child," said the old gentleman, allowing her to slip to the +floor. The group around the bedside parted to let her pass, and then +Phronsie saw Polly. Mrs. Cabot was holding Polly's well hand, while her +head was on Polly's shoulder. + +"Grandpapa said I might," said Phronsie softly to the two, and pointing +to her flowers. + +"Yes, dear." + +It was Polly who answered; Mrs. Cabot was crying so hard she could not +speak a word. + +Phronsie's little heart seemed to stop beating as she reached the +bedside. She had not thought that she would be afraid, but it was so +different to be standing there looking down upon the pillow where +Pickering lay so still and white, and with closed eyes, looking as if he +had already gone away from them. She glanced up in a startled way and +saw Dr. Fisher at the head of the bed; he was holding Pickering's wrist. +"Yes," he motioned, "put them down." + +So Phronsie laid down her blossoms near the poor white face, and stole +back quickly, only breathing freely when she was as close to Polly as +she could creep, without hurting the broken arm. + +"I'm dying--I'm not afraid," suddenly said Pickering's white lips. Dr. +Fisher sprang and put a spoonful of stimulant to them, while Mrs. Cabot +buried her face yet deeper on Polly's shoulder, her husband turning on +his heel, to pace the floor and groan. "Polly, Polly!" called Pickering +quite distinctly, in a tone of anguish. + +"O, Polly, Polly! he's dying--go to him do!" Mrs. Cabot tore her hand +out of Polly's, almost pushing her from the chair. "Quick, dear!" + +Polly put Phronsie aside, and stepped softly to the bedside; Pickering's +eyes eagerly watched for her face. + +He smiled up at her, "Polly," and tried to raise his hand. + +She laid her warm, soft palm on the cold one lying on the coverlid. He +clasped his thin fingers convulsively around it. + +"I am here, Pickering," said Polly, unable to find voice for anything +else. + +"Don't--ever--leave me," she could just make out the words, bending +close to catch them. + +"I never will," said Polly quietly. + +A sudden gleam came into his face, and he tried to smile, grasping her +hand tighter as his eyes closed. + +"It has come," said Dr. Fisher in a low voice to Mr. Cabot; "tell your +wife," and he bent a professional ear over the white face on the pillow, +while Dr. Bryce hurried forward; then brought his head up quickly, a +peculiar light in the sharp eyes back of the spectacles. "He is +sleeping!" + + * * * * * + +Polly was sitting, a half-hour by the bedside, Pickering's thin fingers +still tightly grasping her hand. They had made her comfortable in an +easy chair, Jasper bringing one of Mrs. Higby's biggest cushions for her +to lean her head against. He now stood at the side of her chair, +Phronsie curled up on the floor at her feet. + +"Don't stay." Polly's lips seemed to frame the words rather than speak +them, looking up at him. + +He shook his head, resting his hand on the back of the chair. Polly +tried to smile up a bit of comfort into his eyes. "Jasper loved +Pickering so," she said to herself, "that he cannot leave him; but oh! +he looks so dreadfully, I wish he would go and rest," and she began to +have a worried look at once. + +"What is it?" asked Jasper, catching the look at once, and bending to +whisper in her ear. + +"You will be sick if you do not go and rest," whispered back Polly. + +"I cannot--don't ask it." Jasper brought the words out sharply, with +just a bitter tone to them. + +"He thinks it is strange that I ask it; he is so fond of Pickering," +said Polly to herself. "And now I have grieved him--O, dear!" + +"I won't leave Pickering," she said, lifting her brown eyes quickly. + +A spasm came over Jasper's face, and his brow contracted. + +"Don't," he begged, and Polly could feel that the hand resting on the +back of the chair grasped it so tightly that it shook beneath her. + +"I ought to have remembered that Jasper couldn't leave him; he loves him +so," mourned Polly. "Oh! why did I speak?" + +In the room at the end of the hall Mrs. Cabot was excitedly walking the +floor, twisting her handkerchief between her nervous fingers, and +talking unrestrainedly to Charlotte Chatterton. + +"I do believe this will melt Polly's heart," she cried. "Oh! it must, it +must! Don't you think it must, Miss Chatterton?" + +"I don't know what you mean," said Charlotte Chatterton in a collected +manner, as she bent over the cradle to tuck the shawl over Johnny's legs +where he had kicked it off in his sleep. + +"Oh! you know quite well what I mean, Miss Chatterton," declared Mrs. +Cabot, in her distress losing her habitually polite manner. "Why, +everybody knows that Pickering has loved Polly since they were boy and +girl together." + +Not knowing what was expected of her, Charlotte Chatterton wisely kept +silent. + +"And now, why, it's just a Providence, I do believe--that is, if he gets +well--that brought all this about, for of course Polly must be touched +by it. She must!" brought up Mrs. Cabot quite jubilantly. + +And this time she waited for Charlotte to speak, at last exclaiming, +"Don't you see it must be so?" + +"I think love goes where it is sent," said Charlotte slowly. + +"Sent? Well, that is just it. Isn't it sent here?" cried Mrs. Cabot +impatiently. + +"I don't know," said Charlotte. Then she said distinctly, "I know love +is very different from pity"-- + +"Of course it is--but then, sometimes it isn't," said Mrs. Cabot +nervously. "Well, any way, Polly has almost as good as promised to marry +Pickering," she finished triumphantly--"so--and you are very cruel to +talk to me in this way, Miss Chatterton." + +Charlotte Chatterton turned away from Johnny and faced Mrs. Cabot. "You +don't mean to say you think Polly would feel bound by what she said when +we all thought he was dying?" + +"I do, certainly--knowing Polly as I do--if Pickering took it so. And I +am quite sure he will say so when he gets well; quite sure. Polly isn't +a girl to break her word," added Mrs. Cabot confidently. + +"Then I'm sure Providence hasn't had anything to do with this," said +Charlotte shortly, "and Polly shall never be tormented into thinking it +her duty either," and she turned off to pick up a new gown "in the +works" for Johnny. + +"What you think duty, Miss Chatterton, wouldn't be Polly Pepper's idea +of duty in the least," said Mrs. Cabot, getting back into the refuge of +her society manner again, now that her confidence in Polly grew every +moment, "so we will talk no more about it if you please," she added +icily, as she went toward the door. "Only mark my words, my dear boy and +that dear girl will be engaged, and quite the appropriate match it will +be too, and please every one." + + * * * * * + +"You must go back, my boy," said old Mr. King two days later. "It's just +knocking you up to stay," studying Jasper's face keenly. "Goodness me! I +should think you'd fallen off a dozen pounds. Upon my word I should, my +boy," he repeated with great concern. + +"Never mind me, father," said Jasper a trifle impatiently, "and as to my +work, Mr. Marlowe will give me a few more days. He's goodness itself. I +shall telegraph him this morning for an extension." + +"You will do nothing of the kind," declared Mr. King testily. "What can +you do here, pray tell, by staying? You would be quite a muff in a few +more days, Jasper," he added, "you are so down-hearted now. No, I insist +that you go now." + +"Very well," said Jasper quite stiffly, "I will take myself off by the +afternoon train, then, father, since I am in the way." + +"How you talk, Jasper!" cried his father in astonishment. "You know +quite well that I am only thinking of your own good. What's got into +you--but I suppose this confounded hospital we're in, has made you lose +your head." + +"Thank you, father," said Jasper, recovering himself by a great effort, +"for putting it so, and I beg you to forgive me for my hasty words." He +came up to the old gentleman and put out his hand quickly, "Do forgive +me, father." + +"Forgive you? Of course I will, though I don't know when you've spoken +to me like that, Jasper," said his father, not yet able to shake himself +free from his bewilderment. "Well, well, that's enough to say about +that," seeing Jasper's face, "and now get back to your work, my boy, as +soon as you can, and you'll thank me for sending you off. And as soon as +Pickering Dodge is able to be moved home, why, the rest of us will +finish our trip, and give you that surprise party--eh, Jasper?" and Mr. +King tried to laugh in the old way, but it was pretty hard work. + + * * * * * + +"Well, now, Polly," said Dr. Fisher, a week after as he held her at +arm's length, and brought his spectacles to bear upon her face, +"remember what I say, child; you are to take care of yourself, and let +Mrs. Cabot look out for things. It will do the woman good to have +something to do," he added, dropping his voice. "I don't like to carry +home your face, child; it won't do; you're getting tired out, and your +mother will be sure to find it out. I really ought to stay and take care +of you," and the little doctor began to look troubled at once. + +"Indeed, Papa Fisher," cried Polly, brightening up, "you will do nothing +of the kind. Why, my arm is doing famously. You know you said you never +saw a broken arm behave so well in all your life." + +"It isn't your arm, Polly, that worries me," said Father Fisher; "that's +first-rate, and I shouldn't wonder if it turned out better perhaps for +breaking, but it's something different, and it quite puzzles me; you +look so down-hearted, child." + +"Do I?" said Polly, standing quite straight, and rubbing her forehead +with her well hand; "there, now, I will get the puckers and wrinkles +out. There, Papa Fisher, are they all gone?" She smiled as cheerily as +ever, but the little man shook his head, then took off his spectacles, +wiped them, and set them back on his nose. + +"No; it won't do; you can't make your old father believe but what you've +something on your mind, Polly. I think I shall have to send your mother +down here," he said suddenly. + +"O, Father Fisher!" cried Polly, the color flying over her face, "you +wouldn't ever do that, I am sure! Why, it would worry Mamsie so, and +besides she can't leave King Fisher"-- + +He interrupted her as she clung to his arm. "I know that, but what can I +do? If you'd only promise now, Polly," he added artfully, "that you +won't tire yourself all out trying to suit Mrs. Cabot's whims--why, I'd +think about taking back what I said about sending your mother down." + +"Oh! I won't--I won't," promised Polly gladly. "And now, dear Papa +Fisher, you'll take it all back, won't you?" she begged. + +"Yes," said Dr. Fisher, glad to see Polly's color back again, and to +have her beg him for some favor. So the next half-hour or so they were +very cheery--just like old times; just as if there had been no sickness +and the shadow of a loss upon them in the past days. + +"Though why we should be always acting as if we were in the midst of it +now, I don't see," said the little doctor at last. "We're all +straightened out, thank God, and Pickering mending so fast that he's a +perfect marvel. It would be a sin and a shame for us to be in the dumps +forever. Well, now, Polly, remember. Whew! hear that youngster!" This +last being brought out by Johnny's lusty shouts in the next room. "I +don't envy Mrs. Fargo her bargain, and I do pity myself having to see +him safely there." + +"Oh! Charlotte will take all the care of him," said Polly quickly. +"She's just beautiful with him; you don't know how beautiful, Papa +Fisher, because you've been so busy, since you've been here, and +Charlotte has kept him away from everybody so he needn't worry any one. +And isn't it lovely that he is to have such a beautiful home?" added +Polly with shining eyes. + +"Um--yes, for Johnny," said Dr. Fisher. "Well, good-by, Polly." He +gathered her up in his arms for a final kiss. "Oh! here's Charlotte come +to bid you good-by, too." + +"Polly," said Charlotte, drawing her off to a quiet corner, as the +little doctor went away, leaving the two girls together, "I must say +something, and I don't know how to say it." + +Polly looked at her with wide eyes. + +"It's just this," said Charlotte, plunging on desperately; "Polly, don't +let Mrs. Cabot pick at you and talk about duty. Oh! I hate to hear her +speak the word," exploded Charlotte, with a volume of wrath in her tone. + +"What do you mean, Charlotte?" cried Polly in a puzzled way. + +"Oh! she may--never mind how--she's quite peculiar, you know," said +Charlotte, finding her way less clear with each word. "Never mind, +Polly; only just fight her if she begins on what is your duty; if she +does, then fight her tooth and nail." + +"But it may be something that I really ought to do," said Polly. + +Charlotte turned on her in horror. "O, never!" she cried. "Don't you do +it, Polly Pepper. Just as sure as she says you ought to do it, you may +know it would be the worst thing in all the world. Promise me, Polly, +that you won't do it." + +"But, Charlotte, I ought not to promise until I am quite sure that it +wouldn't be my duty to do what Mrs. Cabot advises. Don't you see, +Charlotte, that I ought not to promise?" + +But Charlotte was too far gone in anxiety to see anything, and she could +only reiterate, "Do promise, Polly, do; there's Mr. Higby calling us; +the carriage is at the door. Do, Polly! I never will ask you anything +else if you'll only promise me this." + +But Polly could only shake her head, and say, "I ought not," and then +Johnny had to be kissed and wrenched from Phronsie, who insisted on +carrying him downstairs to set him in the carriage, and Mrs. Cabot came +in, and old Mr. King wanted a last word with Charlotte, so that at last +she was in Mr. Higby's carryall, shut in on the back seat looking out +over Johnny's head, with a pair of very hopeless eyes. But her lips +said, "Do, Polly!" + +And still Polly, on the flat door-stone, had to shake her head. + +"I shall tell Mrs. Fisher, and beg her to come right down here," +determined Charlotte Chatterton to herself, "just as soon as I get in +the house. That is exactly what I shall do," she declared savagely, as +Mr. Higby whipped up the mare for the quarter-mile drive to the little +station. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +JASPER. + + +"Halloo, King, Mr. Marlowe wants you." Jasper, his hands full of papers, +hurried down the long warehouse, through the piles of books, fresh from +the bindery, stacked closely to the ceiling. The busy packers who were +filling the boxes, looked up as he threaded his way between them. "Mr. +Marlowe is down there," indicating the direction with a nod, while the +hands kept mechanically at their task. + +"I want to see you about that last lot of paper," Mr. Marlowe began, +before Jasper had reached him; "it is thin and of poorer quality than I +ordered. The loss must be charged back to Withers & Co." + +"Is that so?" exclaimed Jasper. "They assured me that everything should +be right, and like the sample that we ordered it from." + +"And Jacob Bendel writes that the edition we gave him of _History of +Great Cities_ to print will be shipped to us within a fortnight, when +his contract was to be filled on Thursday. Of course we lose all the +Chicago orders by this delay." + +"What's the reason?" asked Jasper, feeling all the thrill of the +disappointment as keenly as if he were the head of the house. + +"Oh! a strike among the printers; his best men have gone out, and he's +at the mercy of a lot of inferior workmen who are being intimidated by +the strikers; but he thinks he can get the edition to us in ten days or +so." + +Mr. Marlowe leaned against an empty packing case and viewed the +assistant foreman of the manufacturing department calmly, with the air +of a man to whom disappointments were in the usual order of things. + +"Can't we give it to another printer?" asked Jasper. + +"Who?" + +"Morse Brothers?" + +"They are full and running over with work. I inquired there yesterday; +we may want a little extra done as the rush over those Primary Readers +is coming on. No, I can't think of a place where we could crowd it in, +if we took it away from Bendel." + +Jasper's gaze thoughtfully followed the drift of a shaving blown by the +draft along the warehouse floor. + +"I think I'll send you down to New York to see Bendel, and find out how +things are. I don't get any satisfaction from letters," said Mr. Marlowe +in a minute. "Beside you can attend to some other matters; and then +there is that Troy job; you can do that." + +"Very well, sir." + +"Can you take the night express?" Mr. Marlowe pulled out his watch. It +was ten minutes of three. + +"Can I leave the Ransom bills I was checking off? Mr. Parker said they +were the most important of the lot." + +"Parker must give them to Richard; he knows pretty well how to do them, +unless he can find time for them himself." + +"I was to be at the Green printing-office at nine to-morrow morning," +said Jasper. + +"What for?" + +"They sent down to Mr. Parker yesterday that we had made a mistake about +price for doing those five hundred _Past and Present_; and wanted +him to go to their office, and see Mr. Green himself." + +"If Mr. Green thinks any mistake has been made, let him come to us," +said Mr. Marlowe coolly. "You tell Parker to send a note to that effect; +courteously written, of course, but to the point. We don't go running +around after people who think mistakes are made. Let them bring their +grievances here, if they have any. Is that all that detains you?" + +Jasper held out his hand full of papers. "These were to come in between +when they could, sir." + +"Hem--hem"--Mr. Marlowe read them over with a practiced eye; rolled them +up, and handed the roll to Jasper. "Tell Parker to set Danforth on +those. Anything more?" + +"I was to go to-morrow if there was time to get prices for best +calendered paper of Patterson & Co. and Withers; but the next day will +do." + +"Parker must attend to all that," said Mr. Marlowe decidedly. + +"Very well, sir. I believe that is all that hurries particularly." + +"Come this way; I'll give you instructions what to say to Bendel," and +Mr. Marlowe led the way out to a quiet corner of the warehouse, where he +sat down by a desk, and rapidly laid the points of the business before +his assistant. + +The next morning in New York, Jasper ran across Mr. Whitney on Broadway. + +"Well said; that you, Jasper? Why aren't you up at the house?" + +"I came on the night express," said Jasper, finding it hard to wait a +minute, "on a matter of importance for Mr. Marlowe. Sorry, Brother +Mason, but I can't stop now." + +"You'll be up to-night, of course," said Mason Whitney. + +"I can't; I'm off for Troy," said Jasper concisely, "and I don't come +back this way." + +"Goodness! what a man your Marlowe is. And your sister Marian wants to +hear about Polly and all the others; you've seen them so lately." + +"It's impossible," began Jasper; "you see I can't help it, Brother +Mason; Mr. Marlowe's orders must be carried out." + +"He's a beast, your Marlowe is," declared Mr. Whitney hotly. "I don't +know what Marian will say when I tell her you are here in New York and +won't stop for even a word with her." + +"Sister Marian will say it's all right," said Jasper, a trifle +impatiently, and feeling the loss of every moment a thing to be atoned +for. "Mr. Marlowe is loaded up with trouble of all kinds. Now I must +go." + +"Hold on a minute," cried Mason Whitney. "Well, how are you getting on? +Seems to me the publishing business doesn't agree with you. You look +peaked enough," scanning Jasper's face closely. + +"I'm well enough," said Jasper abruptly. "Tell sister Marian I will +write her very soon," pulling out his watch; "good-by," and he was lost +in the crowd surging down Broadway. Mr. Whitney standing still a moment +to look after him, turned, and went directly to his office. + +"That call on Hendryx & Co. can wait," he muttered to himself on the +way, "but Jasper can't. The boy looks badly, and his father ought to +know it; although it seems funny enough for me to be meddling with +Jasper's affairs. But I won't leave anything to worry about afterward; +they can't say I ought to have told them." + +So a letter went out by next mail from Mr. Whitney's office, saying that +Jasper looked poorly enough when he was met in New York; that he seemed +incapable of breathing any other air than that saturated with business; +that he had evidently mistaken his vocation when he chose to be a +publisher. "Beside, there isn't any money now in the publishing +business," added Mr. Whitney as a clincher; "there are too many of the +fellows cutting each other's throats to make it pay; and books are +slaughtered right and left, and Jasper much better get into some other +business, in my opinion." + +Meanwhile Jasper finished, to the letter, the instructions for Jacob +Bendel, did up the other matters entrusted to him, and set out on his +Troy expedition. Here he was detained a day or two, Mr. Marlowe's +instructions being to wait over and telegraph if the business could not +be adjusted satisfactorily. But the fourth day after leaving home, +Jasper, just from the night express, mounted the stairs to his hotel in +the early morning, his bag in his hand, and the expression on his face +of a man who has accomplished what he set out to do. + +"There's an old gent up in your room," announced Buttons, tumbling off, +a sleepy heap, from one of the office chairs, to look at him. + +"An old gentleman in my room," repeated Jasper, turning on the stairs. +"Why was any person put in my room?" + +"We didn't put the person there," said the boy, yawning fearfully, "he +put himself there. He's a tiger, he is, and he blows me up reg'lar +'cause you ain't home," he added. + +Jasper scaled the rest of the stairs, and tried the knob of his door +with no gentle hand. Then he rapped loudly. "Open the door--this is my +room." + +"Oh! I'm coming," said a voice he knew quite well, and presently old Mr. +King stood before him, his velvet cap and morning jacket both awry from +impatient fingers. + +[Illustration: "AN OLD GENTLEMAN IN MY ROOM," REPEATED JASPER, TURNING +ON THE STAIRS.] + +"Father!" ejaculated Jasper. And "Goodness me, Jasper!" from the old +gentleman, "what an unearthly hour to come home in." + +Jasper hurried in, set his bag in the corner, then turned and looked at +his father anxiously. Meanwhile old Mr. King was studying his son's +countenance with no small degree of alarm. + +"What is it," cried Jasper at last, coming close to him, "that has +brought you?" + +"What?--why, you." + +"Me?" cried Jasper, in amazement. + +"Yes; dear me, Jasper, with all the worries I have had lately, it does +seem a pity that you couldn't take care of yourself. It really does," +repeated Mr. King, his feelings nowise soothed by picking up his watch +and finding it half-past six o'clock. When he made sure of the time, he +set down the watch quickly, and stared at Jasper worse than ever. + +"Now, father," said Jasper, "there's a mistake somewhere, but never mind +now; you must get back to bed again. I don't know when you've been up at +this hour." He tried to laugh, while he laid his hand on the old +gentleman's arm. "Do get back to bed, father." + +"It certainly is a most outrageous hour in which to arise," remarked his +father, not able to suppress a yawn, "and I don't mind if I do turn +in--but where will you sleep, Jasper?" whirling around on his son. "I've +come to look after you, and I shouldn't begin very well to monopolize +your bed," with a short laugh. + +"Oh, I'll camp out on the lounge," said Jasper carelessly; "in two +minutes I could be asleep there or anywhere else. Don't mind me, +father." + +"If you say so, then I will," said the old gentleman, "and you are too +tired to talk before you've had a nap." So he lay down on the bed, +Jasper dutifully tucking him up, and presently his regular breathing +told that he had picked up the threads of his broken slumber. + +Jasper threw himself on the lounge, but unable to close his eyes, his +gaze fell on a sheet of paper, lying on the floor just within reach. It +was impossible to avoid reading the words: "And Jasper better get into +some other business, in my opinion," and signed "Mason Whitney." + +Jasper jumped to his feet and strode up and down the room in growing +indignation; then seized his hat and darted out to cool himself off +before his father should awake. When he returned, old Mr. King was +half-dressed, and berating Buttons for his failure to have the morning +paper at the door. + +"Now for breakfast," cried Jasper, his own toilet quickly made, "then I +presume you want to see me in my business surroundings, father?" as they +went down the stairs together. + +"I most certainly do," said the old gentleman decidedly; and they turned +into the breakfast room. + +So after a meal in which Jasper, by skillful management of all +conversational topics, allowed no chance word of business to intrude, +old Mr. King and he started for the publishing house of D. Marlowe & +Co., Jasper filling up all gaps that might suggest time for certain +questions that seemed to be trembling on the tip of Mr. King's tongue, +while that gentleman was making a running commentary to himself +something in this wise: "Just like Mason; send me off here when there is +not the slightest need of it. The boy is well enough; quite well +enough," he added, in his energy speaking the last words aloud. + +"What is it, father?" Jasper paused in the midst of a descriptive fire +concerning the new buildings going up on either hand, with many side +stories of the men who were erecting them; and he paused for an answer. + +"Nothing--nothing of importance," said his father hastily. "I only +observed that you appeared to be doing quite well; and as if the +business agreed with you," he added involuntarily. + +"I should think it did, father," cried Jasper enthusiastically, while +his cheek glowed; "it's the grandest work a man can do, in my opinion." + +"Hem, hem! well, we shall see," observed Mr. King drily, determined not +to yield too easily. "You've been at it only six months. You know the +old adage, Jasper: 'You must summer and winter' a thing before you +decide." + +Jasper drew a long breath. "I shall never be anything but a publisher, +father," he said quietly. + +"Hoity, toity! well, that is for me to decide, I take it," responded his +father. "You've never disobeyed me yet, Jasper, and I don't believe you +ever will. And if I think it's best for you to change your business, of +course you'll do it." + +Jasper's brow darkened, and he closed his lips tightly for a moment. +Then something Polly said once when his father was in a particularly +determined mood, came to his mind: "You better make him happy, Jasper, +any way." That "any way" carried the day now. + +"It shall be as you wish, father," he said, the frown disappearing; "I +want you to be pleased, any way," unconsciously using Polly's word. + +"I don't know as I should be at all pleased to have you leave the +publishing business, Jasper," said old Mr. King, veering around quickly. +"I can't tell till I've seen just how it suits you. But I am going to +the root of the matter, now that I am here. Oh! is this the place?" as +they came up against a large window, behind whose plate glass, rows and +rows of books in all styles of bindings, met the view of the passer-by. + +"This is it," said Jasper, with a thrill that he was part of the "it," +and the satisfaction in his completed commission, that had been lost by +his father's words, now bounded high again. "Now then, father, you must +meet Mr. Marlowe," turning up the steps. + +Old Mr. King walked down the store-length as if he owned the whole with +several others of its kind thrown in, and on Jasper's pausing before a +small office-door, marked "private," heard him say through its open +window, "Good-morning, Mr. Marlowe." + +"Ah, good-morning," came back quickly, and Mr. King saw a pleasant-faced +gentleman of middle age, whose keen gray eyes seemed to note everything +with lightning-like rapidity--"business all right?" + +"Yes, sir," said Jasper. + +"Very well; you may come to me in a quarter of an hour and report. I +shall be through with these gentlemen," indicating one sitting by his +side at the desk, and another awaiting his turn. + +"Tell him that I am here, Jasper," said Mr. King pompously, with an +admonitory touch upon Jasper's arm. + +"It's impossible, father; he can't see you now," said Jasper hurriedly, +trying to draw his father off to a quieter corner. + +"Impossible? Can't see me? What is there to prevent, pray tell?" cried +the old gentleman irately. + +[Illustration: "GOOD MORNING," SAID MR. MARLOWE QUICKLY. "BUSINESS ALL +RIGHT?"] + +"He has business men with him; they'll be through in a quarter of an +hour," Jasper brought out in distress that was by no means lightened by +the knowledge that half of the clerks through the long salesroom were +becoming acquainted with the conversation. + +"It's atrocious. I never was kept waiting in my life," fumed Mr. King. +"He doesn't know I am here--I will announce myself." + +He started forward. + +"Father," cried Jasper, darting after him, "let me get you a chair over +here by the table and some books to look at." + +"I want no books," said the old gentleman, now thoroughly determined, by +this time looking in the open window of the private office. +"Good-morning, sir," stiffly to the middle-aged gentleman sitting before +the desk. + +This gentleman looked up, nodded carelessly and said, "Excuse me, but I +am at present engaged." + +"I am Mr. Jasper King's father," announced the old gentleman with +extreme dignity; and again the look of being able to buy out this and +several other such establishments, spread over his face. + +"I shall be very glad to see you, sir," said the middle-aged man +imperturbably, "in a quarter of an hour. Excuse me," and he turned back +to finish his sentence to the other business man. + +"Jasper," cried Mr. King, taking short, quick steps to where Jasper +stood, "give me a sheet of paper so that I may write to this fellow, and +take you out of his contemptible trade--or stay, I will write from the +hotel," and he started for the door. + +"Father," exclaimed Jasper in a low tone, but so distinctly that every +one standing near might hear, "Mr Marlowe is just right; he always is." + +"Eh?" cried his father, turning and grasping the back of a chair to +steady himself. + +"Mr. Marlowe is just right about these things. He really couldn't see +you, father." + +"I have never been obliged to wait for any one in all my life, Jasper," +declared his father impressively, "and I never will." + +"I wonder what Polly would do now," thought Jasper in despair. + +"And that you could tolerate such impertinence to me," continued Mr. +King with growing anger, "is more than I can understand; but since +you've come into trade it's vastly changed you. If you do not choose to +come to the hotel with me, I must go alone," which with great dignity he +now proceeded to do. + +The first business man who had finished his conference with Mr. Marlowe +now came down the salesroom. "How d'ye, King," he said cordially to +Jasper in passing. + +Jasper's face lighted as he gave an equally cordial response. + +"Such familiarity, Jasper!" exclaimed his father in a fresh burst of +irritation. "Dear me, I only trust you're not completely spoiled before +I get you out of this." + +The business man turned around and gave a significant look to a knot of +the salesmen, but happening to catch Jasper's eye, he said, "It's a fine +day, King," carelessly, and passed out, but not before "Stuck-up old +money-bag" fell upon the old gentleman's ear. + +"We would better go to the hotel now, I think, father," said Jasper +quietly. "Frank," to the nearest salesman, "will you tell Mr. Marlowe +when it is ten minutes past," glancing at the clock, "that I was obliged +to go with my father, but I will be back at ten o'clock?" + +"You need give yourself no such trouble, Jasper, as all this," said his +father decidedly; "I will wait if it is absolutely necessary that you +see him," with a patronizing wave of his gloved hand toward the private +office. + +"It is absolutely necessary," said Jasper. + +"Very well; I wait, then," said his father, accepting with the air of a +martyr, the chair by the table of books. + +And just then the private office-door opened and out came the other +business man, followed by Mr. Marlowe. + +"Frank," he called briskly, "ask Jasper's father to step here." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +MR. KING ATTENDS TO MATTERS. + + +Old Mr. King kept on turning the books with a careless hand. + +"Father," begged Jasper in a low voice, and putting his hand on the old +gentleman's arm, such a world of entreaty in his face, that his father +turned in spite of himself. + +"After all I much better have it over with now, I really think," said +Mr. King; "yes, Jasper, we will go back," with a marked emphasis on the +word "back." + +"I can't thank you enough, father," exclaimed Jasper gratefully. + +"Well, well, say no more," said old Mr. King abruptly, as they reached +the private office. + +Mr. Marlowe's hands were mechanically adjusting the loose papers on his +desk, so as not to lose an instant's time as Mr. King and Jasper came +up, but he turned a face, over which a bright smile shot suddenly, +lighting up the gray eyes, then quickly whirled around in his office +chair. "Glad to see you," he said, putting out a cordial right hand. + +Mr. King bowed, but evidently did not see the hand; which Mr. Marlowe +not appearing to notice, the old gentleman was more furious than ever. + +"Set a chair for your father, Jasper," said Mr. Marlowe quietly, "and +get one for yourself." Then he leaned back in his office chair and +pleasantly surveyed old Mr. King, waiting for him to speak. + +"I have come, sir," said Mr. King, as he settled his courtly old figure +in the chair Jasper had put for him beside the desk, "to see you about +my son; I am not satisfied with his appearance, nor, I am sorry to say, +with his surroundings." + +"Indeed,?" said the head of the publishing house of D. Marlowe & Co., +still with a pleasant smile on his face. + +"I am very sorry," repeated Jasper's father, "to have to say it, but my +attention has been called to the fact, and I cannot now ignore it." + +"Hardly by Jasper," remarked Mr. Marlowe, bringing the revolving chair +so that he could see Jasper's face. + +"Indeed, no," cried Jasper involuntarily, "it is something father has +heard elsewhere, Mr. Marlowe, and I know he will feel quite differently +when he comes to see things as they really are." + +The grave look on Mr. Marlowe's face disappeared as he turned back to +old Mr. King. + +"Well," he said at last, as the other showed no sign of continuing the +conversation, and still playing with the paper cutter on his desk. + +"Permit me to say, sir," Mr. King broke out, finding to his astonishment +it was not an easy matter to talk to this imperturbable man entrenched +behind his own desk, "that I am disappointed in the atmosphere in which +I find my son. It smells of trade, sir, too much to suit my fancy." + +"Did you suppose for an instant, Mr. King," asked Mr. Marlowe, dropping +the paper-cutter to pick up the pencil, "that our books came out ready +for libraries, without any intervening process?" + +"I certainly supposed Jasper was to be in charge of a literary +department of the house, when I gave my consent to his coming here--" +declared Mr. King very decidedly. + +"Father!" exclaimed Jasper, unable longer to keep silent, "how could I +take charge of any department, until I had learned it all myself?" + +"You have been through Harvard," his father turned on him, "and it seems +to me are fully competent to do the literary work required here." + +"And as for the manufacturing department," continued Jasper, finding it +more difficult to keep still, "it was the only place for me; I had to +begin at the bottom, if I'm ever to be a publisher--which is what my +work is to be--" + +"Not so fast--not so fast," cried the old gentleman excitedly. "You are +not to be a publisher, I take it, if I do not wish it. You've given your +word you will not." + +"I have given my word, father," said Jasper with a long breath, "and +I'll not go back on it," but his lips whitened. + +All this while Mr. Marlowe still played with the little articles on his +desk, sitting very quietly and watching the two. He now threw them down +with an abrupt movement, whirled the revolving chair around suddenly and +sent a lightning-like glance of stern inquiry toward old Mr. King. + +"Be so kind, sir, as to define exactly what your intentions are as to +your son's future. Time is very valuable here, and every fraction +squandered has to be made up in some way." + +"My intentions are," said the old gentleman, in a lofty way, "to take my +son out of the business--entirely out, sir," he waved his hand in a +stately and comprehensive manner; then glanced to see the effect on the +head of the house. + +But there was no effect whatever, except a quick business-like +acceptance of the situation on Mr. Marlowe's implacable face. "Father!" +began Jasper. But old Mr. King was beyond hearing a word. + +"I had intended," he went on condescendingly, "to have my son put in a +large interest in the business, supposing it turned out to be the proper +one for him. In fact, his and my financial support would have made it +one of the finest publishing houses in the world." + +Mr. Marlowe bowed. "Thank you," he said politely. "James," turning to +the window opening into the book-keeping department, "make out Jasper +King's account and settle at once. I believe you wish to go as soon as +you can, do you not," to Jasper, "that is, after you have given me the +report of the business you did on the trip?" + +Jasper could not speak for a moment. Then he said: "But I can't leave my +work in this way--it's," and he sprang to his feet. + +"Jasper," Mr. Marlowe stopped a moment and seemed to swallow something +in his throat, then went on, "your father wishes it, and you will make +him happy"--Jasper started at Polly's own words--"that's enough for one +life time. I'm sorry to lose you, my boy," he suddenly grasped Jasper's +hand, "but allow me to say, sir," turning to old Mr. King, "that for you +and your money I have very little consideration. You don't own enough to +make it worth while for the house of David Marlowe & Co. to extend an +invitation to you to enter it. And now, if you will excuse me, I will +hear Jasper's account of the business he was sent on." + +With that, seeing it was expected of him, old Mr. King got out of his +chair, by the side of the desk, and passed into the long salesroom. + +"I hope you'll believe," began Jasper brokenly, feeling as if the whole +world were going awry, "that this strange idea was never gained from me. +Why, I _love_ the business." His gray eyes glowed as he spoke the +word. + +"My boy," Mr. Marlowe's face was alight with feeling, "don't explain, I +understand it all; you've the misfortune to be born into a rich family, +and your father probably never had to raise his hand to earn a penny. He +isn't to be blamed, only I did hope"-- + +"That I was different," finished Jasper, his head drooping a bit with +the shame of it. "Oh, Mr. Marlowe, father is so splendid--he's just a +magnificent man," he added, the head coming up, with Jasper's old habit +of throwing it back, "if you only knew him and he could have shown you +his old self." + +"Don't I know it," responded Mr. Marlowe heartily, "and I also know that +you must stick by him. Only I did hope--and now I will finish what I was +going to say--that you could stay and help me, for you are after my own +heart, Jasper," he added abruptly, a rare tremble in his voice. + +Jasper put out his hand instinctively. "Thank you, Mr. Marlowe," he said +as the head of the house grasped it warmly, "I shall never forget this." + +And then, as if nothing but the ordinary business had occurred, Jasper +sat down and went carefully over every detail of the commission he had +been sent on, heard Mr. Marlowe's terse, "That's good, Jasper; you've +done it all well," and passed out for the last time, from the private +office, and joined his father in silence, for the walk to the hotel. + +That night Jasper's father wanted to go to a concert, so Jasper got a +box, and sat through it all, not seeing anything but Polly's face, and +hearing, "I'd make him happy, any way." + +Down in the audience sprinkled here and there, or in the galleries, were +some of the D. Marlowe & Co. salesmen and workers staring often up at +him, and the handsome white-haired old gentleman by his side. + +"There's that old snob," they would exclaim at first recognition, to +their companions, "look at him," and under pretense of gazing at the +stage, the opera glasses would be turned on the box. "Looks as if he +owned the whole town, eh?" + +"He is awfully handsome, isn't he?" every salesman's companion would +exclaim, looking at Jasper pale and quiet, in the most secluded part of +the box. + +"Yes," said every one of the men, only seeing the old gentleman, "but +he's too toploftical to live"--or something to that effect--and then +they would forget all about it till the companion's opera glasses +leveled in the same direction, brought the conversation around to the +old topic. + +"They had a flare-up with Mr. Marlowe this morning," confided one +salesman to his friend in the _entr'acte_, "and he's off," with a +nod over to Jasper's private box. + +"Oh dear me!" exclaimed the young girl, with a pang at her heart, "has he +left your business?" + +"Yes," said the salesman, and a real regret passed over his careless +face, "and it's a shame, for no one would have thought he owned a penny; +he was just digging at the business all the time, like the rest of us." + +"Is he very rich?" asked the young girl. + +"Well, I should say," began the salesman, unable to find words to +express Jasper's financial condition. Then the curtain rang up. + +The next morning, old Mr. King broke the egg into his cup thoughtfully. +"I suppose I might as well look about a bit, now that I'm here, Jasper. +I haven't been in this town for twenty years or so." + +"Very well, father," said Jasper, trying not to be listless. "Where +shall we go to-day?" + +"Oh, I'll look around by myself," said his father quickly. "You go to +bed--you look all done up," scanning his son's face anxiously. + +"Indeed, you will not go alone," said Jasper, rousing himself with +shame. "We'll have a good day together." + +"Indeed we will not," retorted the old gentleman. + +"I shall have a cab and go by myself. You'll go to bed, or I'll call in +the doctor. Goodness me, Jasper, you don't look like the same boy that +started out in business six months ago; you're all worn out." + +Jasper said nothing, only redoubled his efforts on the breakfast before +him that now assumed colossal proportions, and as if it could never be +eaten in the world, hoping to persuade his father into allowing him to +go on the tour of inspection. But it was no use. Mr. King on finishing +his morning repast, stalked out to the office, and ordered a carriage, +and presently departed, with last injunctions to Jasper, "to lie down +and take things easy." + +As his father closed the door, Jasper sank into a chair by the table and +allowed his head to drop into his hands; but only for a minute, then he +sprang to his feet, and paced the floor rapidly. + +"If Polly is only happy," he said to himself over and over. How long he +walked thus he never knew--it was only by hearing a vigorous knock on +the door that he stopped, and called, "Come in." + +"They told me," said Jack Loughead, answering the knock, "at the +Marlowes,' that I should find you here, unless you had left the town. +Are you sick?" he asked with concern. + +"No; sit down, do, Loughead," said Jasper, dragging forward a chair, and +falling into one himself, just beginning to be conscious of a stiff pair +of legs. + +Jack Loughead set his hat on the table, and himself in the chair that +Jasper proffered. Then he fell to tapping the tip of his shining boot +with his walking stick. + +"King, I came here to ask you something, that if I didn't trust you so +well I could never ask in all the world. But I feel I can trust you." + +"Oh, don't--don't," begged Jasper, putting up an unsteady hand to ward +off the dreaded subject. "Don't tell me anything, Loughead." + +"Well, I will ask you something, then," said Jack Loughead coolly. "I'm +a business man, King, and I must come to the point in a business way. +First, let me tell you that Uncle and I start for Australia in a +fortnight;" Jasper drew a long breath of relief. "Yes, I must get back; +and you will see that I cannot go without," Jack Loughead paused--then +went on abruptly. "Does Miss Pepper care for Pickering Dodge?" + +"How do I know--how can I tell?" cried Jasper desperately, and springing +from his chair, he began to pace the floor again. "Excuse me, Loughead, +I'm not myself to-day. I've left D. Marlowe & Co. and"-- + +"Yes, I know," interrupted Jack, and drawing a long breath of relief on +his part at being able to speak on this subject now that the ice was +broken; "well, I'm glad, of course, King, if you didn't care to stay," +he said. + +"But I did," cried Jasper, stopping short, to emphasize this. "Mr. +Marlowe is a royal man, through and through, and I'd work for him all my +life. But my father thought best not; that's enough," he added in the +abruptest fashion, beginning to walk again. + +"Yes; well, I see," said Jack. "I know a little what well-meaning +relatives can do to make a young man's life miserable. I'm sorry, King," +and he looked truly wretched over it. + +"And you must forgive anything strange about me to-day," said Jasper, +walking on hurriedly, "for I am all upset." + +"Yes, I know," repeated Jack Loughead, "nothing breaks a man up like +wrenching him from his work. King," he sprang to his feet and joined +Jasper walking on by his side down the room, "you are Miss Pepper's +brother, or as good as one. Can you tell me if I shall wrong Pickering +Dodge if I speak to her?" + +Jasper was saved from answering by old Mr. King coming in with a "Oh, +how d'ye, Loughead? Well, well, Jasper, you've had a good nap, I take +it." And then all three went down to luncheon, and Jasper managed not to +be left alone with Jack Loughead until at the last when he said, "I +shall go and tell the whole story to Mrs. Fisher; of course I must speak +to her first." + + * * * * * + +"Halloo, Dave!" It was such a remarkable cry that David turned at once, +although he was almost on a dead run across the campus. + +"Hey, there!" shouted Percy Whitney as David turned. "Whew! How you do +go, Dave." + +"What's the matter?" cried David, running lightly back to stand in front +of Percy. "Dear me, Percy, you have lost your eyeglasses!" with a glance +at the other's flushed face; "wait, I'll find the things." + +"I yelled my lungs sore," said Percy in irritation, dropping down on his +knees to pass his hands carefully over the campus grass, "and now I've +lost these. Bad luck to you, Dave, for it!" + +"Oh! go without 'em," said David, getting gingerly down on all-fours to +prowl around on the greensward. + +"Go without 'em?" repeated Percy, sitting straight in indignation. "How +could I see, pray tell? Don't be a donkey, Dave." + +David said nothing, but fell to a more diligent search, while Percy +bewailed his loss, watching eagerly David's nimble fingers moving in and +out of the little tufts of grass. + +"Shades of the departed specs," cried David, also sitting straight and +peering with his keen blue eyes in a birdlike way along the sward. "It's +a mysteri--oh, Great Caesar!" then he fell on his back on the campus, +and rolled and laughed, to bring up red and shining, only to tumble over +and roll again. + +"Of all the idiots in the universe, Dave Pepper," fumed Percy. "What's +the matter?" + +"Your trouble has gone to your head," said David faintly. "Feel and see; +oh dear!" + +[Illustration: "HOW YOU CAN SIT THERE AND LAUGH WHEN JOE IS IN DANGER, I +DON'T SEE," EXCLAIMED PERCY IRRITABLY.] + +Percy's hand flew up to his thick mane of brown hair, that not all his +disgust and tireless training could persuade to lie smoothly, when he +picked off his beloved glasses, after an angry twitch or two. + +"How you can sit there and laugh when Joe is in danger, I don't see," he +exclaimed irritably, adjusting them to his nose. "I've nearly killed +myself to catch you, and"-- + +"Joe in danger!" cried David, on his feet in an instant. "Oh, Percy, +what do you mean?" his cheeks whitening, and his blue eyes agleam. + +"Joel's brought it on himself," said Percy, his irritation not going +down. "I must say, Dave, if he'd behave more like the rest of us, he'd +be"-- + +Then Polly's words, "Oh, dear, beautiful Joel!" came to mind, and he +coughed violently, holding fast the eyeglasses in their place. + +"What danger?" demanded David, in his impatience shaking Percy's arm. + +"Well, you must know, after last night's performance over Joe, that they +wouldn't let him alone." + +"Last night's performance over Joel?" repeated David in astonishment. +"What yarn are you spinning now, Percy?" + +"Goodness sake, you are yarning yourself," retorted Percy indignantly, +"to pretend that you don't know that last night a dozen or more fellows +called on Joe, and he handled 'em without gloves, so that Bingley and +Dobbs can't hardly step to-day." + +"It's the first word I've heard of it," said David slowly, but +emphatically, and staggering back a step or two to look at Percy. "I was +out all the evening. Oh, magnificent old Joe!" + +"Magnificent old Joe!" repeated Percy, "you better say 'poor Joe,' when +you know what they are intending to give him." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MOTHER FISHER AND CHARLOTTE. + + +David's blue eyes flashed dangerously. "Tell all you know, Percy," he +said briefly. + +"Dobbs heads it, as he did the first one," said Percy; "they've changed +their tactics, and will get at Joe on their way home from that +confounded meeting. Dave, can't you keep him from that?" and Percy, +forgetting himself, peered anxiously over his glasses. + +"No," said David shortly, "and I sha'n't try." + +"You're an idiot," cried Percy, in a passion, "a stupid, blind old +donkey! Joe will be mauled dreadfully," he howled, beating his hands +together in distress; "no help for it but to keep him away from that old +association meeting." + +"Anything more to tell?" asked David. + +"No," Percy shot out. "Bingley told me all he knew; but they wouldn't +let him catch much of it, because he's left the gang"-- + +David's feet by this time were flying over the Campus, so that Percy was +obliged to shout the remainder of the sentence after him. The +consequence was that several heads were popped out of as many windows in +the long gray dormitory fronting the Campus, their owners all engaged in +the pleasing duty of staring at Percy and the flying figure across the +grass. + +"Now I'm in for it, for there's Dobbs, I vow," exclaimed Percy to +himself, in dismay; "he'll guess I've given Dave warning," and he tried +to strike a careless attitude, picking off his glasses to hold them up +and gaze long and earnestly through them into the nearest tree. + +"You can't come it," jeered Dobbs, from his window. "No birdsnesting, I +promise you, Whitney; ha, ha!" And the other heads popped farther out +than ever, to add a few hisses. + +Percy, maddened by the failure of his plan to divert suspicion, now lost +his head entirely, and sticking his eyeglasses on again, ran off like +lightning to his room, followed by "Little coward, we'll treat you +too--Look out!" + + * * * * * + +"Well, Jasper; now I'm bound for the next thing--Percy and Joel and +David," declared old Mr. King as Jack Loughead was cleverly off; "we are +so near, it's a pity not to drop down on them." + +"Don't you think you ought to hurry back to Brierly?" asked Jasper, +having hard work not to show that he cared anything about it one way or +the other. + +"No, I don't," answered his father, in his crispest fashion. "No one +needs me there; Mrs. Cabot is a host in herself, and those boys may--who +knows? At any rate, I must see how they are getting on, so we will go as +soon as you can get your things packed and sent home," and the old +gentleman glanced around the room at the various keepsakes and family +adornings that Jasper had brought with him to make life less lonely +while he made a business man of himself. + +"Very well, father," said Jasper, he could not trust himself to say +more; and for the first time had to hurry away that his father might not +see his face. But old Mr. King was the farthest removed from carrying +the look of a person holding any interest whatever in Jasper's trouble, +for he went on to say, "And I do hope you will get it over with as +quickly as possible, Jasper, so that we may be off," then he fell to +reading the evening paper with great gusto. + +Jasper seized his hat, rushed down stairs two steps at a time, nearly +overturning Buttons leaning on the post at the foot. + +"Oh! beg pardon," said Jasper, quite as if it had been a gentleman he +had run against. + +"You hain't hurt me none," said Buttons, staggering back to his support, +where he craned his neck in curiosity to watch young Mr. King's +impatience. + +Once out in the park, a half-mile away, his hands thrust in their +pockets, Jasper slackened his pace, and breathed freer. Before him +seemed to be the little brown house; it was the first time he had seen +Mrs. Pepper--and they had just finished their long talk, when the mother +had thanked him for rescuing Phronsie from the organ-grinder. The five +little Peppers were begging him to come over again to see them, but Mrs. +Pepper laid her hand on his arm. "Be sure, Jasper," she warned, "that +your father is willing." He could see her black eyes looking down into +his face. What would she say now? + +Jasper threw himself down on one of the seats under a friendly tree. "At +least, Polly, you sha'n't be ashamed of me," he said in a moment or two, +"and dear Mrs. Fisher," then he walked quietly off to make the last +preparations that his father had ordered. + + * * * * * + +"Well, now, Charlotte," said Mrs. Fisher, "you needn't worry, not a +single bit," and she went on calmly sorting out the small flannel +petticoats in her lap. "That is rather thin," she said, holding up one +between her eyes and the light; "King Fisher, how you do kick things +out!" + +"Mrs. Fisher!" exclaimed Charlotte Chatterton in amazement, "how can you +sit picking over flannel petticoats, when perhaps Polly will--oh, do +excuse me," she broke off hastily, "for speaking so." + +"Polly? I'd trust my girl to know what was sense, and what was +nonsense," declared Mother Fisher crisply, and not taking off her +attention in the slightest from Baby's petticoats. + +"Ar-goo--ar-goo!" screamed little King. + +"So we would--wouldn't we, Birdie?" she said, nodding at him. + +"But people do such very strange things in--in--love," said Charlotte, +her face full of distress, "I mean when love is in the question, Mrs. +Fisher." + +"Polly doesn't," said Mrs. Fisher scornfully. "Polly has never been in +love; why, she is only twenty." + +Charlotte gave an uneasy whirl and rushed off to the window. + +"And there's that dreadful, hateful Mrs. Cabot," she cried, plunging +back, her pale eyes afire. "Oh! I feel so wicked, Mrs. Fisher, whenever +I think of her, I'd like to tear her, I would, for picking at Polly," +she declared with venom. + +"You needn't be afraid," repeated Mrs. Fisher calmly, "Polly knows Mrs. +Cabot through and through, and will never be influenced by anything she +says." + +"Oh, dear, dear, dear!" cried Charlotte, wringing her long hands, "and +there's that Mr. Loughead, and everything is mixed up, and I can't +frighten you." + +"Now, just see here, Charlotte," cried Mother Fisher, casting aside the +flannel petticoats to look up, "you must just put your mind off from all +this; I should never know you, my girl, you are always so sensible and +quiet. Why, Charlotte, what has gotten into you?" + +"That's just it," cried Charlotte, a pink passion in her sallow cheeks, +"everybody thinks because I don't rant every day, that I haven't any +more feeling than a stick or a stone. Oh! do excuse me, Mrs. Fisher, but +I love Polly so!" And she flung herself down on her knees, burying her +face among the little flannel petticoats in Mother Fisher's lap. + +"There--there, my dear," said Mrs. Fisher, smoothing Charlotte's pale +straight hair, "of course you love Polly; everybody does." + +"And I don't--don't want her to marry that Pickering Dodge," mumbled +Charlotte. + +"Certainly not; and she's no more likely to marry him than you are," +said Mrs. Fisher coolly, giving gentle pats to Charlotte's head, while +King Fisher screamed and twitched his mother's gown in anger to see the +petting going on. + +"Well, now I have two babies," said Mother Fisher, with a smile, lifting +him up to her lap, where he amused himself by beating on Charlotte's +head with both fat fists, till his mother seized them with one hand, +while she gently smoothed the girl's hair with the other. "Polly can be +trusted anywhere; and when she is in too much of a dilemma, then she +brings everything to mother." + +Charlotte sat up straight and wiped her eyes. + +"And we've got somebody else to worry about much more, and all our +sympathies ought to go out to him," said Mrs. Fisher gravely. + +"Charlotte, I don't mind telling you that I am dreadfully sorry that +Grandpapa has taken Jasper away from his business." She sat King Fisher +abruptly on the floor, all the little petticoats tumbling after him, and +walked away so that Charlotte could not see her face. "Poor Jasper, he +loved his work so." + +[Illustration: "WELL, NOW I HAVE TWO BABIES," SAID MOTHER FISHER] + +"And that's just it," gasped Charlotte, somehow finding her feet to +hurry over to Mrs. Fisher, "Jasper has lost his work, and now oh +dear!--oh! can't you see, Mrs. Fisher"--and then frightened at her +boldness, she ran back to Baby. + +"Charlotte Chatterton!" exclaimed Mrs. Fisher. There was something so +dreadful in her tone, that Charlotte, without a word, ran out of the +room--to meet little Dr. Fisher hurrying upstairs with his hands full of +letters. "A whole budget from Brierly," he announced joyfully; "two for +you, my girl," casting them into her hands. "And the folks are coming +home next week; that is, our folks--good news--eh, Charlotte?" then he +sped on to find his wife. + +And at dinner Charlotte, sitting pale and immovable amidst all the chat, +let the news of Mr. and Mrs. Mason Whitney's and Dick's determination to +come on to greet the arrivals from the Brierly farmhouse, fall on +apparently unheeding ears. + +"Charlotte!" cried Dr. Fisher at last, looking at her through his big +spectacles, "why, I thought you would rejoice with us," he added +reproachfully. + +"Adoniram," exclaimed Mrs. Fisher across the table, for the first time +in her life looking as if she would like to step on his toes. The little +doctor stared at her a moment--"Oh--er--never mind, my dear," he cried +abruptly, turning to Charlotte. "I suppose you do not feel well." + +"Yes, I do feel well," said Charlotte truthfully, not daring to look at +Mrs. Fisher, but keeping her eyes on the tablecloth. + +"I have a letter from Mr. King--a very long one; he is going to see Joel +and David," Mother Fisher made haste to say; "I hope he hasn't heard +anything wrong about them," and a little anxious pucker came on her +forehead. + +Charlotte Chatterton glanced up quickly, and seeing it, "Oh, I do +believe everything is all right, Mrs. Fisher," she exclaimed +involuntarily. + +Mother Fisher looked straight at her with one of her brightest smiles. +"I guess so," she said, her brow clearing. + +And after they had pulled back their chairs from the table, and the +little doctor had gone into his office for a minute, Mrs. Fisher +followed Charlotte out into the hall. + +"Charlotte," and she put both hands on the girl's shoulders, "you and I +won't meddle with the Lord's will for Polly. Promise me that you'll not +say one word of what we were talking, to any one." + +"I won't!" said Charlotte Chatterton. + +"And now," said Mother Fisher, dropping her arms and resuming her usual +cheery manner, "you and I, Charlotte, have got to put our minds on +getting ready for the Whitneys and the home-coming, and we must make it +just the brightest time that ever was. I'm no good at thinking up ways +to celebrate," added Mrs. Fisher, with a little laugh, "Polly always did +that; so you must do it for me, you and the doctor, Charlotte. And you +better run in to his office now and make a beginning, for next week will +come before we know it," and with a motherly pat, and a "run along, +child," Mrs. Fisher waited to see Charlotte well on the way before she +turned to her own duties. + +"Come in!" cried little Dr. Fisher, as she rapped at the office door. +"Oh, it's you, Charlotte," with a sigh of relief; "I'm sure I don't feel +much like dragging on my boots and going off to the Land's End to-night, +on a call." + +"Mrs. Fisher thought I ought to come and see you, sir, about getting up +a plan to celebrate the home-coming next week," said Charlotte, feeling +her heart bounding already with delight. Would they really all be +together in a week? + +"Now that's something like," exclaimed Dr. Fisher joyfully, and pushing +aside with a reckless hand his books and vials on the table; "sit down, +do, Charlotte; there," as Charlotte settled her long figure in the +opposite chair. "Now then!" + +"I never got up a plan to celebrate anything in my life," said +Charlotte, folding her hands in dismay. + +"Nor I either," confessed the little doctor in an equal tremor, "Polly +was always great at those things. But I suppose that's the reason my +wife set us two together, Charlotte, for she's the wisest of women, and +perhaps we ought to learn how to get up celebrations." + +"If only Phronsie were home," breathed Charlotte wistfully. "I'm so +afraid our affair will be worse than nothing." + +"I dare say," replied the little doctor cheerily, "but we can try, and +that goes a great way, Charlotte--trying does." + +[Illustration: "I'VE ALWAYS FOUND," SAID DR. FISHER, "THAT ALL YOU HAD +TO DO TO START A THING, WAS TO BEGIN."] + +Charlotte drew a long breath and moved uneasily in her chair. "If we +only knew how to begin," she said at last doubtfully. + +"I've always found," said Dr. Fisher, springing from his chair, "that +all you had to do to start a thing was to--begin." + +"Yes, that's just it," ruminated Charlotte, bringing up her hands to +hold her head with, "I think we are in a tight place, Dr. Fisher." + +"Hum, that may be," assented the little man, "I like tight places. Now, +then, Charlotte, how do you say begin?" + +Charlotte sat lost in thought for a minute, then she said, "Any way, I +think it would be best for us to get up something very simple, so long +as we are beginners." + +"I think so too," agreed Dr. Fisher, "so that's settled. Now for the +first thing; what do you say we should do, Charlotte?" + +"How would it do," asked Charlotte suddenly, "to invite everybody after +they have gotten over the first of the home-coming--after dinner, I +mean--into the drawing-room, and then tell them that we are not smart +enough to think up things, and ask them to give a recitation apiece, or +something of that sort?" + +"Charlotte Chatterton!" exclaimed the little doctor, cramming his hands +into the side pockets of his office coat and staring at her, + +"I am ashamed of you! that would be shabby enough--not so bad either," +he added quickly, a sudden thought striking him, "as you'll do your part +in singing." + +"Oh! I couldn't sing," cried Charlotte, drawing back into her shell of +coldness again, "they don't any of them care for it; they've heard me so +much," she finished, trying to smooth her refusal over. + +"You'll sing," declared the little doctor decidedly, "we could never be +tired of hearing you; and for the rest, I have a notion that this might +suit. See here," and he threw himself into his office chair, and looked +Charlotte squarely in the face, "why not ask Alexia and Cathie and the +others, to take hold and get up some fandango--eh?" + +Charlotte caught herself on the edge of saying "No," then drew a long +breath and said, "Well," trying not to seem indifferent over the plan. + +"Don't like it--eh?" asked Dr. Fisher, regarding her keenly. + +"It might be the best thing in the world," said Charlotte slowly. "Those +girls act splendidly; they've had little plays so often, and Polly has +drilled them, that they'll know just how to go to work, and it will +please Polly. Oh, yes, do let us have that," she cried, beginning to wax +quite enthusiastic. + +"It will please them too," said the little man, not withdrawing his +gaze. + +"Yes, it will please them," said Charlotte, after a minute, "and I will +run over in the morning and ask them." + +"That's good!" cried Dr. Fisher, bringing his hands together with a +joyful clap; and getting out of his chair he began to skip up and down +like a boy. "And let Amy Loughead do the piano music, do; that will +please Polly to see how the child has gone ahead. I can't hardly believe +Miss Salisbury; she tells me the chit practices every minute she can +save from other things. Be sure to have her asked, Charlotte, child." + +"I will ask Amy," promised Charlotte, with a pang at the thought of the +delight over Jack Loughead's handsome face at her invitation. + +"And you are to sing," cried the little doctor jubilantly. "Now we are +all capitally fixed. It takes you and me to get up celebrations, doesn't +it?" and he stood as tall as he could and beamed at her. "I'd go over as +early as I could, Charlotte," he advised, "and tell those girls, because +you know a week isn't much to get ready in." + +"I will," said Charlotte, "go the very first thing after breakfast." + +And after breakfast, the next morning, she tied her hat on, and not +trusting herself to think of her expedition, actually ran down the long +carriage drive to the avenue--then walking at her best pace, she stood +before Alexia Rhys' door and rang the bell. + +"There, now, I can't go back," she said to herself, and in a minute or +two she was in the reception room, and Alexia Rhys was running over the +stairs and standing with a puzzled expression on her face, before her. + +"Oh, my goodness me--oh, oh!" exclaimed Alexia, with a little laugh. "Is +this you, Miss Chatterton?" + +"Yes," said Charlotte Chatterton, "I came to ask if you would get up +something nice to celebrate the home-coming of all the family from +Brierly; and Mr. Whitney's family are to come too, next week. Will you, +Miss Rhys?" + +"Well, I never!" cried Alexia Rhys, sinking into the first chair she +could find. "You want me--I shouldn't think you would," she added +truthfully. + +"I didn't at first," said Charlotte Chatterton, "but I do now, Miss +Rhys--oh! very much, you and Miss Harrison, and all those girls--you can +get up something beautiful; and Dr. Fisher and I don't in the least know +how, and we want you to do it." Then she sat quite still. + +"Well, I declare!" cried Alexia Rhys, unable to find another word. Then +she looked out of the window. "Oh, here's Clem," and, rushing out, +Charlotte could hear a whispered consultation with, "Did you ever?" and +"I'm awfully ashamed," while Clem's voice said, "So am I." + +"Well, come in," said Alexia audibly at last, dragging Clem after her +into the reception room, "we've got to do what's right now, any way." + +"I'm awfully ashamed, Miss Chatterton," said Clem Forsythe, going +straight to Charlotte's chair and putting out her hand; "we girls +haven't been right to you since you came, and I, for one, want to ask +your pardon." + +"Dear me, so do I," cried Alexia, crowding in between with an eager hand +stretched out, "but what good will that do--we said things, at least I +did the most. Oh, my hateful tongue!" + +"If you'll only take hold and make a nice celebration for Polly and all +the others, that will be all I'd want," said Charlotte. "Thank you, you +are so good," she brought up happily. + +"And then we'll do something for you some time," declared Alexia, "all +for yourself, won't we, Clem--something perfectly elegantly splendid?" + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +STRAIGHTENING OUT AFFAIRS. + + +Two days after, old Mr. King was walking over the college campus, bound +for Joel's and David's room in the "Old Brick Dormitory." + +"I am glad I sent Jasper ahead to the hotel; I much rather pop in on the +boys by myself," soliloquized the old gentleman in great satisfaction. +"Ah, here it is," beginning to mount the stairs. + +"Come in," yelled a voice, as he rapped with his walking-stick on the +door of No. 19, "and don't make such a piece of work breaking the door +down--oh, beg pardon!" as Mr. King obeyed the order. + +A tall figure sprawled in the biggest chair, his long legs carried up to +the mantel, where his boots neatly reposed; while a cloud of smoke +filling the room, made Mr. King cough violently in spite of himself. + +"'Tis a nasty air," said the tall young man, getting his legs down in +haste from the mantel, and himself out of the chair, though with much +difficulty; "take a glass of water, sir," hobbling over to a side table, +and pouring one out, to work his way with it to old Mr. King. + +"Thank you," said the old gentleman, when he could speak, and accepting +it quickly, "you say truly, the air is beastly," glancing around the +room in displeasure at the plentiful signs of its inmates' idea of +having a good time at college. "Are Joel and David Pepper soon to be +in?" As he spoke, he lifted up the cover of a French novel thrown on the +lounge near him, and dropped it quickly as he read the title. + +"Hey? oh! I see--a little mistake," exclaimed the tall youth, going +unsteadily back to his chair. "Their room is 19, in the extension. I am +Robert Bingley, sir." + +"I'm very glad," cried old Mr. King heartily, "for I don't mind telling +you, my young friend, that I shouldn't want Joel's and David's room to +look like this." + +"I don't blame you in the least, sir," said Bingley, nowise abashed, +"but you needn't worry, for the Peppers aren't my kind. You must be +Grandfather King?" he added. + +"Yes, I am," said old Mr. King, straightening up, and throwing back his +white hair with a proud gesture. "So you've heard about me?" he asked, +in a gratified way. + +"I should rather think we had," said Bingley, "why, all of us know about +you, sir." Here he got out of his chair again. "You won't care to, after +you know all, but I should like to shake hands with you, sir." + +"Most certainly," responded the old gentleman heartily, "although your +room isn't to your credit." Thereupon he bestowed a courtly hand-shake +upon the young man, with the utmost cordiality, making Bingley, who +seemed to have a good deal of trouble with his legs, to retreat to his +chair in a high state of satisfaction. + +"It was mean of me to ask you such a favor, sir," said Bingley, gazing +up at the ceiling, "before I had told you all, but I couldn't help it, +some way, and I knew you wouldn't touch my hand after you'd heard. Well, +I was one of a gang who went to Joe Pepper's room last week for the +purpose of lamming him." + +"You went to Joe Pepper's room for the purpose of lamming him?" repeated +old Mr. King, darting out of his chair. + +"Yes, sir"--Bingley still kept his gaze glued to the ceiling--"but we +didn't do it, though; Joe lammed us." + +"Oh!" + +"So the rest of the gang are going for him to-night; I'm not able to," +said Bingley, trying to appear careless. + +"Joel to be in such business--how could he!" fumed old Mr. King. "A +gentleman--and I thought so much of his turning out well. It will kill +his mother--oh, how could he?" turning fiercely on Bingley. + +"See here, now," cried that individual, tearing his gaze from the +ceiling, to send a sharp glance at the white-haired old gentleman, "Joe +is all right; straight as a brick. You can bet your money on that, sir." + +"Oh--oh!" cried Mr. King, more and more horrified, "is this what you all +come to college for? I should consider, sir," very sternly, "it a place +to keep up the dignity of one's family in, and that of such a venerable +institution," waving both shapely hands to include the entire pile of +buildings by which they were surrounded. + +Bingley gave vent to an uncontrollable laugh. "Beg pardon, sir, but the +dignity isn't worth a rush. We are in the old hole, and all we look out +for is to have a good time, and scrape through." + +"Old hole--and scrape through! Oh, dear--oh, dear!" groaned old Mr. +King. + +"That's what our set do," said Bingley, to give him time to recover, +"Joe and Davina--ah, I mean David--don't train in our crowd; the other +one, Whitney"-- + +"Don't tell me that he does," interrupted Percy's grandfather sharply. +"It wouldn't be possible." + +"No, he doesn't affect us," said Bingley coolly, "it's all he can do to +take care of those eyeglasses of his; and he'd muss his clothes. Whitney +is something of a softy, sir." + +Old Mr. King drew a long breath of relief. But he looked so troubled, +that Bingley for the life of him couldn't keep up his assumed +carelessness. + +"Sit down again, do, sir," he begged involuntarily, "and I will tell you +all about it," and Mr. King, resuming his chair, presently had a graphic +account of Joel's course in college, with a description of the trouble +in his room, till the whole thing was laid bare. + +"How I wish I had been here to see my boy," exclaimed the old gentleman, +with sparkling eyes; "I might have helped him a bit." He stretched out a +handsome fist and looked at it as admiringly as any college athlete +could view his own. "Well," dropping his arm, "I am interrupting you, +Mr."--groping for the name. + +"Bingley, sir." + +"Ah, yes; Bingley. Well, Mr. Bingley, pray go on. Did you not say that +another attempt was to be made on my grandson?" + +Bingley nodded. "To-night after he comes from the Association rooms," he +added. + +"We shall see--we shall see," exclaimed the old gentleman drily, in a +manner that delighted Bingley and made him tingle all over to "be in at +the death" himself. + +"Dobbs has planned it to"-- + +"Dobbs?" interrupted the old gentleman sharply, "what family? Not the +Ingoldsby Dobbs, I trust"-- + +"This chap's name is Ingoldsby Dobbs," said Bingley; "he's a high-flyer, +I tell you! Lives up to his name, I suppose he thinks." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," mourned Mr. King; "I have known his father ever +since we were boys; he's capital stock. Well, go on, Mr. Bingley, and +let me know what this young rascal is up to," he added, with extreme +irritation. + +"He is going to have his men close in on Joe in the middle of the park. +Pepper often comes that way to 'Old Brick'--short, you know, for 'Old +Brick Dormitory'--with a poor miserable cuss--excuse me, sir--he's +trying to get up on to sober legs. There are twenty fellows pledged to +do the job, I've found out." + +Bingley didn't think it worth while to mention how the plan was +discovered, nor that heavy vengeance was vowed upon his head if he +divulged it. + +"I gave it away to Whitney. I couldn't get at Davi--er, Dave, to see if +it wasn't possible to keep Joe away from that meeting." + +"It would come some time--it better be to-night," said the old gentleman +briefly. "Well, is that all?" + +"Yes, sir; only that they are to toss a cloak over Joe's head, and carry +him off for a little initiation fun." + +"Ah!" Old Mr. King sat quite straight. "Thank you, Mr. Bingley," he +said, getting out of his chair. He didn't offer to shake hands, and +Bingley, though pretending not to notice any omission of that sort, felt +considerably crest-fallen about it. + +The moment the door was shut and he heard Mr. King go down the stairs, +Robert Bingley ran his fingers through his hair, giving a savage pull at +the innocent locks. + +"Curse my luck!" he growled, taking out the angry fingers to shake them +at his legs, "tied here by these two beggars, and he thinks that I'm +sneaking out of standing up for Joe!" + +Old Mr. King fumed to himself all the way down the stairs, becoming more +angry with each step. When he reached the lower hall he turned and +passed through the building instead of going out, and meeting a young +collegian on a run, asked, "Have the goodness to tell me, sir, does Mr. +Ingoldsby Dobbs room in this building?" + +"No. 23-4-5 in the extension," said the undergraduate, not slackening +speed, and pointing the direction. So the old gentleman climbed the +staircase to the wing, and presently rapped on the door marked 23. + +Uproarious shouts of laughter greeted him as he opened the door in +response to a loud "Come in!" The noise stopped as suddenly as it was +possible for the inmates of the room to check it when they saw the +visitor, but not before "We'll season Pepper well and make the deacon +howl!" came distinctly to his ears. + +"Good afternoon, young gentlemen," said old Mr. King, bowing his white +head; and holding his hat in his hand, he advanced to the table, around +which sat six or eight of them. "I beg of you not to go," as some of +them made a sudden movement to leave; "I should like to see you all, +though I called especially upon Mr. Ingoldsby Dobbs." + +A tall, wiry youth with sallow face and high-bred nose, disentangled +himself from the group and came forward. "I don't remember where I have +met you, sir," he said, yet extending his hand, with his best manner on. + +"Aristocratic old party," whispered one man to his neighbor, "Dobbsey +needn't be afraid to claim him." + +"I am very thankful to say I never have met you before, young man," +observed Mr. King coolly, not seeing the slender hand waiting for his, +"your father honors me with his friendship. This may tell you who I am," +and he threw a card upon the table. + +Young Dobbs' sallow face turned a shade paler as he picked up the card +and read it. + +"Glad to see you--sit down, won't you?" he mumbled, dragging up a +comfortable chair. "Any friend of father's is welcome here," he went on +awkwardly, while the rest of the men stared at him, one of them +exclaiming under his breath, "First time Dobbs' cheek deserted him, I'll +wager." + +The old gentleman looked first into Ingoldsby Dobbs' thin face, then +surveyed them all quite leisurely. "I understand you paid my grandson, +Joel Pepper, a call a short time since, when instead of abusing him, +some of you got your deserts." + +The men started, and angry exclamations went around the room: "He's +turned coward, the mean sneak! We'll pay him up!" and remarks of a like +nature being quite audible. + +Old Mr. King turned on them. "Silence!" he commanded. "My grandson Joel +doesn't know I am here. I heard the story since my arrival. If any one +says one word against him, I'll cane him from the top of the stairs to +the bottom," and he looked as if he could do it. + +"'Twas Bingley, then," said Dobbs sullenly. + +The old gentleman completely ignored him, addressing his words to the +crowd. "There are four men in this class who are going to be protected +from your insults. Those are my three grandsons and Mr. Robert Bingley; +and this is to be done without appealing to the college authorities +either. That puts a stop to your fine plan, Mr. Dobbs," at last looking +at him, "and any other idea of the same sort your fertile brain may +chance to think up. The first intimation of any hostility, and your +father and the fathers of these men here with you," waving his hand at +them all, "and of the others in this interesting plan, will be informed, +and you will be dealt with exactly like any other disturber of the +peace--villains in college or out of it ought to be served to the same +punishment, in my opinion. Now have any of you remarks to make?" + +It was so like Joel's invitation to "Come on and have it out now," that +not a single man of them stirred. + +"Then I will have the pleasure of bidding you good-by," said Mr. King, +and the next moment he was outside of No. 23, while perfect silence +reigned within. + +Polly came slowly down Mrs. Higby's front stairs and looked at Phronsie +standing at the further end of the entry. + +"What's the matter, Phronsie?" at last she asked. + +For the first time in her life Phronsie seemed unable to answer Polly, +and she stood quite still, her gaze fastened on the big-flowered muslin +curtain that swung back and forth in the breeze that came through the +open window. + +"Now, Phronsie," said Polly very decidedly, and going up to her, "you +must tell me what the matter is." + +"I can't," said Phronsie, in a low tone, "don't ask me, Polly." + +"Can't tell me everything?" cried Polly. "Dear me, what nonsense, +Phronsie. Come now, begin, there's a dear." + +"But I am not to tell," persisted Phronsie, shaking her head. Then she +drew a long breath, and looked as if she were going to cry. + +"Who has been telling you things?" cried Polly, her brown eyes flashing, +"that you are not to tell? It is Mrs. Cabot. I know it is, for there is +no one else here who would do it." + +"Don't ask me," pleaded Phronsie in great distress, and clutching +Polly's gown. "Oh, don't say anything more about it, Polly." + +"Indeed I shall," declared Polly. "No one has a right to command you in +this way, and I shall just speak to Mrs. Cabot about it." + +"Oh, no, no," protested Phronsie, huddling up closer to Polly in dismay; +"please, Polly, don't say anything to her about it, please" + +"Mamsie wouldn't ever allow you to be annoyed about anything," said +Polly, with increasing irritation, "and if Mrs. Cabot has said anything +to you, Phronsie, to make you feel badly, why, I must know it. Don't you +see, child, that I really ought to be told?" + +Phronsie folded her hands tightly together, trying to keep them quiet, +and her cheeks turned so very white that Polly hastened to put her well +arm around her, saying quickly, "There, there, child, you needn't tell +me now if you don't want to. Wait a bit." + +"I had rather tell it now," said Phronsie, "but oh, I do wish that +Grandpapa was here," she added sadly. + +"Whatever can have been said to you, Phronsie?" exclaimed Polly in +dismay. "You frighten me, child. Do tell me at once what it was." + +"Jasper isn't going to be at Mr. Marlowe's any more," said Phronsie, +with distinctness. + +"Jasper isn't going to be at Mr. Marlowe's any more." repeated Polly +wildly, and holding Phronsie so closely that she winced. "Oh, what do +you mean! who has told you such nonsense?" + +"Mrs. Cabot," said Phronsie; "she told me this morning--and I was not to +tell you, Polly. But I did not promise not to. Indeed I didn't." + +"What perfect nonsense!" exclaimed Polly, recovering herself, and trying +to laugh, "well, Phronsie, child, didn't you know better than to believe +any story that Mrs. Cabot might tell? How in the world could she know of +Jasper's affairs, pray tell?" and she laughed again, this time quite +gaily. + +"Ah, but," said Phronsie, shaking her head, "she had a letter from Mr. +Cabot; it came in this morning's mail; she opened it and said out loud +this dreadful thing about Jasper, and then she saw me, and she said I +was not to tell you." + +Polly dropped Phronsie's arm and rushed down the hall. + +"Where are you going?" cried Phronsie, hurrying after--"Oh, Polly!" + +"I am going to make Mrs. Cabot tell me everything she knows," said Polly +hoarsely, and not looking back; "she shall let me have every syllable. +It can't be true!" She threw wide the door of Mrs. Higby's +"keeping-room" where that lady was engaged in putting a patch on the +chintz-covered sofa, and talking gossip with a neighbor at the same +time. + +"I thought as this was a-going so fast, Mr. Higby sets it out so, and we +were all so comfortable to-day, I'd get at it kinder early," said Mrs. +Higby apologetically; "anything I can do, Miss Polly?" she asked, flying +away from her patch, and dropping her scissors on the floor. + +"No," said Polly, turning back hastily. "Never mind, Mrs. Higby." + +"Now 'twas something you wanted me for," cried Mrs. Higby, ambling +toward the door, "I ain't a mite busy, Miss Polly; that old patch can +wait. La! I can tell Mr. Higby to set on the other end till I get time +to attend to it. What was it, Miss Polly?" + +Polly turned back, Mrs. Higby's tone was so full of entreaty. "Oh, +nothing, only if it isn't too much trouble, would you ask Mrs. Cabot to +come down stairs a moment, I want to see her." + +"Oh, cert'in," cried Mrs. Higby, ambling off toward the stairs. And +presently Mrs. Cabot in a pink morning gown came down the hall toward +Polly, and put both arms around her. + +[Illustration: "Phronsie, get a glass of water; be quick, child!"] + +"What is it, dear?" she asked caressingly. + +"Come out of doors," begged Polly, "I can't breathe here. Come, Mrs. +Cabot." + +And Mrs. Cabot, her arms still around Polly, was drawn out to the old +porch, Phronsie following. Then Polly shook herself free. + +"Is it true?" she began--"I made Phronsie tell me--that Jasper," she +caught her breath, but went on again hurriedly, "has left Mr. Marlowe?" + +"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Cabot in consternation, "what shall I do? +Yes; but I wasn't to tell you; Mr. King is coming back. Do wait, Polly, +and ask him about it." + +"I shall not wait," declared Polly passionately, facing her. "Tell me +all you know, Mrs. Cabot; every single word." + +"I don't know a thing about it," cried Mrs. Cabot in a frightened way, +"only Mr. Cabot writes that Mr. King has made Jasper leave Mr. Marlowe. +That's all I know about it, Polly," she added desperately, "and I wish +Mr. Cabot had been asleep before he wrote it. Phronsie, oh! get a glass +of water; be quick, child!" as Polly sank down on the old stone floor of +the porch. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +POLLY TRIES TO HELP JASPER. + + +"I think it was a mean shame," began Dick wrathfully. + +"Dick--Dick!" exclaimed his mother gently. + +Mr. Whitney tapped his knee with a letter he had just placed within its +envelope, then threw it on the table. "It's the best job I ever did," he +cried jubilantly, "to get Jasper out of that business." + +Dick sent his two hands deep within their pockets. "Oh! how can you say +so?" he cried. + +"And how can you question what your father does?" exclaimed Mrs. +Whitney. "Why, that isn't like you, Dick!" with a face full of reproach. + +"Oh! let the boy say what he wants to, Marian," broke in her husband +easily. "So, Dicky, my lad, you don't think I did just the right thing +for Jasper--eh?" + +He leaned back in his chair, and surveyed his young son with a twinkle +in his eye. + +"No, I don't," declared Dick, beginning to rage up and down the room on +young indignant feet. "I say it's mean to meddle with a fellow's +business. I wouldn't stand it!" he added stoutly. + +Mr. Whitney laughed long and loud, despite his wife's shocked, "Dicky, +don't, dear!" + +"Well, if I didn't know that in a year's time Jasper will come to me and +say, 'I thank you!' I should never have gone through with the job in the +world," said his father, when he came out of his amusement. "It isn't +the pleasantest piece of work a man could select, 'to meddle,' as you +call it, with another's affairs." + +"Jasper never will thank you in the world--never!" exclaimed Dick, +cramming his irritated hands deeper in their pockets, and turning on his +father. + +"You see," said his father, nodding easily. + +"And you see, papa," cried Dick, turning hastily in front of him, +looking so exactly like his father that Mrs. Whitney forgot to chide, in +admiring them both. + +"And I think it's too bad," went on Dick. "Everybody pitches into +Jasper, and wants him to do things; and Grandpapa is always picking at +him. I'd--I'd fight--sometimes," he added. + +"Softly--softly there, my boy," said Mr. Whitney; "you'll have plenty of +practice for all your fighting powers by and by; a fourteen-year-old +chap doesn't know everything." + +"Well, I know one thing," declared Dick, more positively, "Grandpapa has +always been meddling with Jasper, and you know it, papa." + +"That's because he expects great things from Jasper, and that he will +hold up the King name; we all do," replied his father. + +Dick turned on an impatient heel. "And so he would have done, if you'd +let him be a publisher," he declared. + +His father laughed again, and leaned out of his chair to pinch his son's +ear, but Dick, resenting this indignity, retreated to a safe position, +declaring, "And I'm going to be one when I'm through college--so!" + +[Illustration: "I THINK IT WAS A MEAN SHAME' BEGAN DICK WRATHFULLY.] + +"Mr. King's a-coming down the road, and Mr. Jasper!" screamed Mrs. +Higby, coming out suddenly to the porch. "I see 'em from the +keepin'-room window. My! what's the matter with Miss Polly?" + +"Nothing," said Polly, opening her eyes; "that is, not much," and +sitting up straight. "Are Grandpapa and Jasper really coming?" she +asked. + +"Dear me, Polly," exclaimed Mrs. Cabot, before Mrs. Higby could answer, +and putting shaking hands on Polly's shoulders, "I never was so +frightened in my life! I thought your arm was worse--and you so near +well! O, dear! are you sure you are right?" peering around into her +face. "Here comes Phronsie with the water--that's good!" + +Polly took the glass and smiled up reassuringly into Phronsie's troubled +face. "Oh! how good that is, Phronsie," she cried. "There now, I'm all +right. Don't let Grandpapa or Jasper know," and she sprang to her feet, +while Mrs. Higby hurried off to see if her preparations for dinner were +all right, now that Mr. King had come back a day sooner than he wrote he +intended. + +"Phronsie, you go and meet them; do, dear," begged Polly; and as +Phronsie ran off obediently, Polly walked up and down the porch with +hasty steps, holding her hands as tightly locked together as the injured +arm would allow. "Oh! if I only had time to think--but I ought to try, +even if I don't say just exactly the right words, for Mr. Marlowe may +not be able to take him back if I wait," and then Grandpapa came +hurrying out with, "Where's Polly?" and she was kissed and her cheeks +patted--he not seeming to notice anything amiss in her--he was so glad +to get back; and through it all, Polly saw only Jasper's face, and, +although everything seemed to turn around before her, she made up her +mind that she would tell Grandpapa just what she thought, and beg him to +change his mind, the very first instant she could. + +And so, before the first greetings of the homecoming were fairly over, +Polly, afraid her courage would give out if she waited a moment longer, +put her hand on Mr. King's arm. "What is it, dear?" asked the old +gentleman, busy with Phronsie, who hung around his neck, while she tried +to tell him everything that had happened during his absence; and he +peered over her shoulder into Polly's face. + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly in a tremor, "could you let me talk to you a +little just now? Please, Grandpapa." + +"Well, yes, dear, after Phronsie has"-- + +"Oh! Phronsie will wait," cried Polly, guilty of interrupting; "I know +she will." + +For the first time in her life, Phronsie said rebelliously, "Oh! I don't +want to wait, Polly. Dear Grandpapa has just got home, and I must tell +him things." + +"So you shall, Phronsie," declared old Mr. King, drawing her off beyond +Polly's reach. "There, now you and I will get into this quiet corner," +and he sat down and drew Phronsie to his knee. "Now, Pet, so you are +glad to get your old Grandpapa home, eh?" + +Polly, in an agony at being misunderstood, followed, and without +stopping to think, she threw her arms around Phronsie and cried, "O, +Phronsie! do trust me, dear, and let Grandpapa go. I must see him now!" + +Mr. King gave Polly's burning cheeks a keen glance, then he set Phronsie +on the floor abruptly. "Phronsie, see, dear, Polly really needs me. +Come, child," and he gathered up Polly's hand into his own, and marched +out of the room with her. + +"Suppose we go in here," said the old gentleman, "and have our talk," +unceremoniously opening the door of Mrs. Higby's best room as he spoke; +"nobody is likely to disturb us here." + +Polly, not caring where she went, but with the words she must speak +weighing heavily on her mind, followed him unsteadily into the parlor, +and while he threw open a blind or two to light up the gloom that +usually hung over Mrs. Higby's best room, she busied herself trying to +think how she should begin. + +"There, now, my dear," said Mr. King, coming up to her, and drawing her +off to a big haircloth sofa, standing stiffly against the wall, "we will +sit down here, and then we can go over it comfortably together and +settle what is on your mind," he added, feeling immensely gratified at +the impending confidence. + +"Grandpapa," cried Polly in desperation, and springing from the sofa, +where he had placed her by his side, to stand in front of him, "I don't +know where to begin. Oh! do help me." She clasped her hands, and stood +the picture of distress, unable to say another word. + +"Why, how can I help you to tell me, child," cried old Mr. King in +astonishment, "when I don't know in the least what it is you want to +say?" + +"Oh! I know it," cried Polly, twisting her hands, unable to hold them +quite still. "O, dear! what shall I do? Grandpapa, it's just"-- + +"Well, what, my dear?" asked the old gentleman, and taking one of her +hands encouragingly. "Are you afraid of me? Why, Polly!" + +Polly started at his tone of reproach, and threw her well arm around his +neck, exactly as Phronsie would have done, which so pleased the old +gentleman that it was easier for her to begin again to tell him what was +on her mind. But when she had gotten as far as "It's just this"--she +stopped again. + +"Well, now, Polly," said Mr. King, sitting straight on the sofa, with +displeasure," I must say, I am surprised at you. I should never think +this was you, Polly, never in all the world," which so unnerved her, +that she plunged at once into what she had set herself to do, saying the +most dreadful thing that was possible. + +"O, Grandpapa!" she cried, "do you think it can be right to take Jasper +away from his work?" + +"Hoity-toity! Well, I must say, Polly," exclaimed the old gentleman in +the greatest displeasure, and rising abruptly from the sofa, brushing +her aside as he did so, "that I never have been so surprised in my life, +as to have you come to teach me my duty. Right? Of course it is--it must +be, if I wish it. I have always looked out for Jasper's good," with that +he walked up and down the parlor, fuming at every step, and looking so +very dreadful, that Polly, rooted to the spot, had only to stand still, +and watch him in despair. + +"If you could have seen Jasper, the way he was when I found him," said +Mr. King, tired at last of vituperating, and coming up to Polly sternly, +"you would be glad to have me get him out of the wretched business. It +smelt so of trade, and everybody was grossly familiar; while that Mr. +Marlowe--I have no words for him, Polly. He insulted me." + +"Oh!--oh!" cried Polly, with clasped hands and flaming cheeks. "How +could he, Grandpapa? Jasper has always said he was such a gentleman." + +"Jasper's ideas of what a gentleman should be, and mine, are very +different," exploded the old gentleman, beginning to walk up and down +the parlor again. "I tell you, Polly, that my boy is sadly changed since +he went into that contemptible trade." + +"But Jasper loves his work," mourned Polly, her color dying down. + +"Loves his work? Well, he shouldn't," cried Mr. King in extreme +irritation. "It's no sort of a work for him to love, brought up as he +has been. A profession is the only thing for him. Now he studies law"-- + +"O, Grandpapa!" cried Polly, quite white now, and she precipitated +herself in front of the old gentleman's angry feet, "Jasper just hates +the law. I know, for he has often said so; and if you do fasten him down +all his life to what he don't like, and make him be a lawyer, it will +kill him. He'll do it, Grandpapa"--Polly rushed on, regardless of the +lightning gleam of anger in the sharp eyes above her; and, although she +knew that after this she should never be the same Polly to him as of +old, she kept on steadily--"because you want him to; he'll do anything +to please you, and make you happy, Grandpapa, and he won't say anything, +but it will kill him; it surely will, for he loves his work with Mr. +Marlowe so." Then Polly stopped, aghast at the effect of her words. + +"And what am I to do now, pray, to please you?" asked old Mr. King, and +drawing off to look at her quite coldly. + +"Oh! nothing to please me," cried poor Polly; "only for Jasper. Do let +him go back to Mr. Marlowe, Grandpapa." + +"He shall never go back to Mr. Marlowe with my consent," declared the +old gentleman stiffly, his anger rising again, "and you have displeased +me very much, Polly Pepper, by all this. Now you may go; and remember, +not another word about Jasper and his work. I will arrange everything +concerning him without interference." And Polly, not knowing how crept +out of Mrs. Higby's parlor, and shut the door. + +[Illustration: "OH, WHY DID I SPEAK?" CRIED POLLY OVER AND OVER.] + +"Polly!" somebody called, as she hurried on unsteady feet over the +stairs to her own little room that she had begged under the farmhouse +eaves. But she didn't even answer, only rushed on, and locked the door +behind her. Then she threw herself on her knees by the bed, and buried +her face in her hands. This was worse than the day so long ago when she +sat in the old rocking-chair in the little brown house, with eyes bound +closely to shut out all outside things; and all of them had been afraid +she was going to be blind. For now she felt sure that she had spoiled +whatever chance there might have been for Jasper. "Oh! why did I +speak--why did I?" she cried, over and over in her distress, as she +buried her face deeper yet in Mrs. Higby's gay patch bedquilt. + +After a while--Polly never could tell how long she had staid +there--somebody rapped at the door. It was Phronsie; and she cried in a +grieved little voice, "Polly, are you here? I've been under the +apple-trees--and just everywhere for you. Do let me in." + +"I can't now, Pet," cried Polly, trying not to let her voice sound +choked with tears; "you run away, dear; Polly will let you in by and +by." + +"Are you sick, Polly?" cried Phronsie anxiously, and kneeling down to +put her mouth to the keyhole. + +"No, not a bit," said Polly hastily, and trying to speak cheerfully. + +"Really, Polly?" + +"Really and truly, Phronsie; there, run away, dear, if you love me." + +Phronsie, at this, unwillingly crept off, and still Polly knelt on, with +the wild remorse tugging at her heart that she had been the one to +injure Jasper's prospects for life. + +And then the dinner-bell rang, and Polly, who was never known to be late +at a meal, heard Mrs. Higby come out into the hall again, and shake the +big bell till it seemed to fill the whole farmhouse with its noise. + +"Oh! I can't go down--I can't!" moaned poor Polly to herself, quite lost +to everything but the dreadful distress at the mischief she had wrought. +And then Phronsie came again, this time imploring, with tears--for Polly +felt quite sure that she could hear her crying--that Polly would only +open the door, "and let me see you just once, Polly!" + +And even Mrs. Cabot came, and Polly thought she should go wild to have +her stand outside there and beg and insist that Polly should come down +to them all. + +[Illustration: "ARE YOU SICK, POLLY?" CRIED PHRONSIE ANXIOUSLY.] + +"I don't want any dinner," said Polly over and over. "I just must be +alone a little while," and at last she spoke quickly to Mrs. Cabot's +persistent pleadings, "Have the goodness, Mrs. Cabot, not to call me +again." And then she was sorry the minute she had spoken the words, and +she opened her door a little crack to call after Mrs. Cabot, as she +sailed downstairs in great displeasure, "Oh! do forgive me, dear Mrs. +Cabot, for speaking so. I am very sorry, but I cannot come down just +yet." + +"I shall send you up your dinner, then," said Mrs. Cabot, only half +appeased, and pausing on the stairs. + +"No, no!" begged Polly, and she seemed so distressed at the mere +thought, that Mrs. Cabot unwillingly let her have her way about it. + +It was in the middle of the afternoon, and Polly, exhausted by weeping, +had fallen asleep just where she was, on her knees by the bed, her head +on the gay bedquilt, when a low knock on the door startled her and made +her rub her eyes and listen. + +"Polly," said a voice--it was Jasper's--"won't you undo the door? I want +to speak to you." + +"O, Jasper!" cried Polly, springing to her feet, and running over to the +door, "I can't; don't ask me--not just yet." + +"I won't ask you again," said Jasper, "if you don't wish it, Polly." + +His voice showed his disappointment, and Polly, full of dismay at the +trouble she had made for him, couldn't find it in her heart to cause him +this new worry. + +"You won't want to speak to me, Jasper," she cried, unlocking the door +with trembling fingers, "when you know what I have done." + +"What, Polly?" he cried, trying not to show how he felt at sight of the +swollen eyelids and downcast face. Meanwhile he drew her out gently into +the hall. "There, let us sit down here," pausing before the wide +window-seat; "it's quiet here, and nobody will be likely to come here." +He waited till Polly sat down, then made a place for himself beside her. + +"Jasper," cried Polly, lifting her brown eyes, now filling with tears +again, "you can't think what I've done. I've ruined your whole life for +you!" + +"How, Polly?" Jasper's face grew pale to his lips. "Oh! do tell me at +once," yet he seemed to be afraid of what she was about to say. + +"O, Jasper! I thought perhaps I could help you. I never knew till this +morning, just before you came, that you had lost your place. Mrs. Cabot +had a letter from her husband, and she told me. And I spoke to Grandpapa +and begged him to let you go back, and, O, Jasper!" here Polly's tears, +despite all her efforts to keep them back, fell in a shower, "you can't +guess how dreadfully Grandpapa feels, and he says--oh! he says that you +are to study law, and never, never go back to Mr. Marlowe." + +"Is that all?" exclaimed Jasper in such a tone of relief that Polly +sprang to her feet and stared at him through dry eyes. + +"All?" she gasped. "O, Jasper! I thought you loved your work." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +MR KING AND POLLY. + + +"So I do love my work," cried Jasper in a glow, "but, Polly," and he +sprang to his feet and walked away so that she couldn't see his face, "I +thought that you were going to say something about yourself," + +Then he turned around and faced her again. + +"O, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly reproachfully, "what could I possibly have +to say about myself! How can I think of anything when you are in +trouble?" + +"Forgive me, Polly," broke in Jasper eagerly, and he took her hand, "and +don't worry about me; I mean, don't think that what you said to +Grandpapa made any difference." + +"But indeed it did, Jasper," declared Polly truthfully; "oh! I know it +did, and I have done it all." + +"Polly--Polly!" begged Jasper in great distress, "don't, dear!" + +"And now you must give it all up and go into the law--oh! the horrid, +hateful law; oh! what will you do, Jasper?" And she gazed up into his +face pityingly. + +"I shall have to go," said Jasper, drawing his breath hard, and looking +at her steadily. "You know you yourself told me long ago to make my +father happy any way, Polly." He smiled as he emphasized the last word. + +"Oh! I know," cried Polly in despair, "but I didn't think it could ever +be anything as bad as this, Jasper." + +"'Any way' means pretty hard lines sometimes, Polly," said Jasper. +"Well, there's no help for it now, so you must help me to go through +with it." + +"And just think," mourned Polly, looking as if the shower were about to +fall again, "how I've made it worse for you with Grandpapa. O, Jasper! I +shall never be any help to you." + +"Polly!" exclaimed Jasper, in such a tone that she stopped to look at +him in astonishment. "There, now, I'll tell you all about it," he added +with his usual manner, and sitting down beside her again, "and then +you'll see that nothing on earth made any difference to father. This was +the way of it," and Jasper proceeded to lay before her every detail of +Mr. King's visit to him, and all the circumstances at the store, not +omitting Mr. Whitney's part in the affair, as shown by the letter that +Jasper had seen. + +"Oh, oh! how mean," interrupted Polly at this point, with flashing brown +eyes; "how could he?" and her lips curled disdainfully, + +"Oh! Mason thought he was doing me the greatest favor in the world, I +don't doubt," answered Jasper. "You know, Polly, he never could bear to +hear of the publishing business, and he was so disappointed when I +wouldn't go into the law." + +"I know," said Polly, "but this was dreadful, to meddle--after you had +once decided; very, very dreadful!" + +"I think so," said Jasper, with a laugh; feeling surprisingly +light-hearted, it was so beautiful to be talking it all over with Polly, +"but the trouble is, Mason don't. Well, and then came that dreadful +misunderstanding about Mr. Marlowe; that hurt me worse than all. O, +Polly! if you only knew the man," and Jasper relapsed into gloom once +more. + +"O, dear, dear!" cried Polly sympathetically, and clasping her hands. +"What can we do; isn't there anything to do?" + +"No," said Jasper, "absolutely nothing. When father once makes up his +mind about anything, it's made up for all time. I must just lose the +friendship of that man, as well as my place." With that his gloom +deepened, and Polly, feeling powerless to utter a word, slipped her hand +within his as it lay on his knee. + +He looked up and smiled gratefully. "You see, Polly, we can't say +anything to him." + +"Oh! no, no," cried Polly in horror at the mere thought; "I've only made +it a great deal worse." + +"No, you haven't made it worse, dear; but we shouldn't do any good to +talk to him about it." + +"I don't believe I could live," cried Polly, off her guard, "to have him +look at me, and to hear him speak so again, Jasper." + +Jasper started, while a frown spread over his face. "I can bear anything +but that you should be hurt, Polly," he exclaimed, his fingers +tightening over hers. + +"Oh! I don't mind it so much," cried Polly, recovering herself hastily, +"if I hadn't made mischief for you." + +"And that you never must think of again. Promise me, Polly." + +"I'll try not to," said Polly. + +"You must just put the notion out of your mind whenever it comes in," +said Jasper decidedly; "you'll promise that, Polly, I know you will." + +"Well," said Polly reluctantly, "I will, Jasper." + +"All right," exclaimed Jasper, in great satisfaction. + +"Polly--Polly." Phronsie's yellow head came up above the stairs, and +presently Phronsie came running up to them in great haste. + +"O, Polly!" and she threw her arms hungrily around Polly and hugged her +closely. "O, dear!" letting her arms fall, "I wasn't to stop a minute. +Grandpapa wants you to drive with him, Polly, and you are to go right +down as soon as you get your hat on." + +"Grandpapa!" screamed Polly, jumping off from the window-seat so hastily +that Phronsie nearly fell over, while Jasper was hardly less excited. +"Why, Phronsie, you can't mean it. He"-- + +"Father really wants you, Polly, I know," broke in Jasper, with a look +into the brown eyes. But his voice shook, and if Phronsie hadn't been so +worried over Polly, she would certainly have noticed it. + +"Polly hasn't had any dinner," she said in a troubled way. + +"Oh! I don't care for dinner," cried Polly, with another look at Jasper, +and beginning to dance off to her room for her hat. + +"But you must have some," declared Phronsie in gentle authority, going +toward the stairs, "and I shall just ask Grandpapa to wait for you to +get it. Mrs. Higby saved your dinner for you, Polly"-- + +"Oh! I couldn't eat a morsel," protested Polly from her little room, +"and don't ask Grandpapa to wait an instant, whatever you do, Phronsie. +See, I'm ready," and she ran out into the hall, putting on her hat as +she spoke. + +"Get her a glass of milk, Phronsie," called Jasper, standing by the +stair-railing; "that's a good child." + +Polly flashed him a grateful look as she dashed down the stairs, drawing +on her gloves, and not daring to look forward to meeting Grandpapa. + +But when she came out to the back piazza, Phronsie following her with +the glass, and begging her to drink up the rest left in it, old Mr. +King, standing by the little old-fashioned chaise, received her exactly +as if nothing had happened. + +"Well, I declare, Polly," he said, turning to her with a smile, "I never +saw anybody get ready so quickly as you can. There, hop in, child," and +he put aside her dress from the wheel in his most courtly manner +possible. + +"Polly hasn't had all the milk," said Phronsie, by the chaise-step, +holding up the glass anxiously. + +"Well, I don't believe she wants it," said old Mr. King. + +[Illustration: "POLLY HASN'T HAD ALL THE MILK," SAID PHRONSIE] + +"No, I don't," said Polly, from the depths of the old chaise. "I +couldn't drink it, dear." + +Mr. King bent his white head to kiss Phronsie, and then they drove away, +and left her standing in the lilac-shaded path, her glass in her hand, +and looking after them. + +All sorts of things Mr. King talked of in the cheeriest manner possible, +just as if Polly and he were in the habit of taking a drive like this +every morning; and he never seemed to notice her swollen eyelids, or +whether she answered, but kept on bravely with the conversation. At last +Polly, at something he said, laughed in her old merry fashion; then Mr. +King drew a long breath, and relaxed his efforts. + +"I declare, Polly," he said, leaning back in a comfortable way against +the old cushion, and allowing the neighbor's horse, hired for the +occasion, to amble along in its own fashion, "now we are so cosy, I +believe I'll tell you a secret." + +Polly stopped laughing and gazed at him. + +"How would you like to take a little journey, just you and I, +to-morrow?" he asked, looking down into her face. + +"A journey, Grandpapa?" asked Polly wonderingly. + +"Yes; about as far as---say, well, to the place where Jasper has been +all winter. The fact is, Polly," went on Mr. King very rapidly, as if +with the fear that if he stopped he would not be able to finish at all, +"I want you to look over the ground--Jasper's work, I mean. It seems an +abominable place to me--a perfectly abominable one," confided the old +gentleman in a burst of feeling, "but there," pulling himself up, "maybe +I'm not the one to say it. You see, Polly, I never did a stroke of work +in my life, and I really can't tell how working-places ought to look. +And I suppose a working man like Mr. Marlowe might be different from me, +and yet be a decent sort of a person, after all. Well, will you go?" he +asked abruptly. + +"O, Grandpapa!" cried Polly, aghast, and turning in the chaise to look +at him with wide eyes. + +"Yes, I really mean it," nodded old Mr. King, in his most decided +fashion, "although I don't blame you for thinking me funny, child." + +"I was only thinking how good you are Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly +fervently, and creeping up close to his side. + +"There--there, Polly, child," said the old gentleman, "no more of that, +else we shall have a scene, and that's what I never did like, dear, you +know. Well, will you go with me--you haven't said yes yet." + +"Oh! yes, yes, yes," cried Polly, in a rapturous shout, not taking her +glowing eyes off from his face. + +"Take care, you'll scare the natives," warned old Mr. King, beaming at +her. "Brierly folks couldn't have any such transports, Polly," as they +turned down a shady lane and ambled by a quiet farmhouse. + +"Well, they ought to," replied Polly merrily, peering out at the still, +big house. "O, Grandpapa! I just want to get out and jump and scream. I +don't feel any bigger than Phronsie." + +"Well, I much rather have you here in this carriage with me," said the +old gentleman composedly. "Now that's settled that we are going, Polly. +Of course I asked the doctor; I sent down a letter to him after dinner, +to ask if your arm would let you take a little journey with me, and of +course he said 'yes,' like a sensible man. Why shouldn't he, pray +tell--when we were all going home in a day or two? Now, of course, that +must be postponed a bit." + +"Never mind," Polly hastened to say, "if Jasper is only fixed up." + +"Now, Polly," Mr. King shifted his position a bit, so that he might see +her the better, "perhaps Mr. Marlowe won't take Jasper back. Judging +from what I know of the man, I don't think he will," and the old +gentleman's face, despite his extreme care, began to look troubled at +once. + +"Oh! maybe he will," cried Polly warmly. "Grandpapa, I shouldn't wonder +at all--he must!" she added positively. + +"I don't know, Polly," he said, in a worried way. "I think it's very +doubtful; indeed, from what I know of business now, I don't believe at +all that he will. But then, we can try." + +"Oh! we can try," echoed Polly hopefully, and feeling as if, since God +was good, he would let Jasper back into his chosen life-work. + +"Well, we'll start early to-morrow morning on our little trip, Polly," +said the old gentleman, catching her infectious spirit, and giving the +old horse a fillip with the whip. "Meantime, not a word, my dear, of our +little plan!" + +So Polly promised the deepest secrecy, and that no one should even have +a hint from her looks, of what Grandpapa and she were to do. + +And the next morning, although everybody was nearly devoured by +curiosity, no one dared to ask questions; so old Mr. King and Polly, +with two well-filled portmanteaus, departed for a journey of apparently +a few days; and Polly didn't dare to trust herself alone with Jasper, +but ran a race with him around all the angles of the old farmhouse, +always cleverly disappearing with a merry laugh when there was the least +chance of his overtaking her and cornering her for an explanation. + +And Pickering Dodge, in his invalid chair drawn close to the window, +heard the merry preparations for the journey, and fretfully declared +"that people seem to be happy, with never a thought for a poor dog like +me," while old Mr. Loughead, who, despite Doctor Bryce's verdict, had +never seemed quite well enough in his own estimation for his departure +from the "Higby hospital," on the contrary brightened up, exclaiming, +"Now, that is something like--to hear Miss Polly laugh like that--bless +her!" + +"Good-by, Pickering," said Polly, coming into his room, old Mr. King +close behind; "I am going away with Grandpapa for a day or two," and she +came up in her traveling hat and gown close to his chair. + +"So I heard," said Pickering, lifting his pale face, and trying to seem +glad, for Polly's joy was bubbling over. But he made rather a poor show +of it. + +"Good-by to you, my boy," said Mr. King, laying a soft palm over the +thin fingers on Pickering's knee. "Now see that you get up a little more +vigor by the time we are back. Goodness! all you want is a trifle more +backbone. Why, an old fellow like me would beat you there, I do believe. +I am surprised at you," cried the old gentleman, shaking his fingers at +Mr. Loughead, with whom he was on the best of terms, but never feeling +the necessity to weigh his words, "that you, being chief nurse, don't +set up with that boy and make him get on his feet quicker." + +"So I could do," cried old Mr. Loughead, whose chief object in life +since Pickering had been pronounced out of danger, had been to browbeat +the trained nurse, and usurp the authority in Pickering's sick-room, "if +Mrs. Cabot would keep out, or take it into her head to return home. To +state it mildly," continued the old gentleman, not lowering his tone in +the least, "that lady doesn't seem to be gifted with the qualities of a +nurse. Providence never intended that she should be one, in my opinion." + +"Don't tell him to bully me worse than he does," cried Pickering. "He +shows a frightful hand when he wants his own way." + +"That's it," cried old Mr. King delightedly; "only just keep it up. +You'll get well fast, as long as you can fight. Come on, Polly, my girl, +or we shall be late for the train." + +The evening before, Jack Loughead ran up the steps to Miss Salisbury's +"Select School for Young Ladies," and pulled the bell hastily. + +Amy ran down as quickly to the little room where she was always allowed +to see her brother. + +"Well, Amy, child," cried Jack, when they had gone through with the +preliminaries always religiously observed on his visits: how she had +progressed in her music under the new teacher Miss Pepper had +recommended during her enforced absence, and how far she had pleased +Miss Salisbury, and all the other things an elder brother who had come +to his conscience rather late, would be apt to look into. "And so you +really think you are getting on in your practice?" + +"O, yes, Jack!" cried Amy confidently. "Come and see; I've a new +Beethoven for you," and she laid hold of his arm with eager fingers. +"Now, you'll be immensely surprised, Jack--immensely." + +"No doubt, no doubt," answered Jack hastily, and not offering to get up +from the sofa, "but you needn't play it now." + +"Why, Jack," cried Amy, no little offended, "what's the matter? You've +asked me regularly to play you my pieces, and now to-night when I offer +to, you won't have any of it," and she began to pout. + +"That's shabby in me," declared Jack, with remorse; and getting off the +sofa, to his feet, he dutifully spread the music on the rack, and paid +his little sister such attention, that she was soon smilingly launched +into the new piece, and lost to everything else but her own melody. + +"That's fine!" pronounced Jack, as Amy declared herself through, and +whirled around on the music-stool for his applause. But his heart wasn't +in it, and Amy's blue eyes soon found it out. + +"You're not a bit like yourself to-night, Brother Jack," she cried, with +another pout and staring at him. + +"You're right; I'm not, Amy," declared Jack. "Come over to the sofa, and +I'll tell you about it." + +So the two turned their backs on the piano; and pretty soon, Amy, her +hand in her brother's big brown palm, was nestled up against him, and +hearing a confidence that made her small soul swell with delight. + +"Amy," said Jack, putting his arm closer around her, "when Miss Pepper +had the courage to tell me of my duty to you, I made up my mind that you +should never want for anything that my hand could supply." + +"And I never have," cried little Amy, poking her head up from its nest +to look at him. "All the girls say you are just splendid to me; that +they never saw such a brother; and I don't believe they ever did, Jack," +she added proudly. + +"So now, what I am about to do," said Jack, speaking with great effort, +"isn't to bring anything but the greatest happiness to you, Amy, as well +as to me. If only I can secure it!" he added under his breath. + +"What are you going to do, Jack?" demanded Amy, springing away from him +to stare into his bronzed face. "Oh! I know; you are going to Europe +again, and will take me this time--oh! goody, goody!" She screamed like +a child, clapping her hands gaily. + +"Hush, Amy," cried Jack, trying to speak lightly, "or Miss Salisbury +will come in, and send me off, saying I spoil your manners. There, come +back here to me; I can talk better then," and he drew her to his side +again. "No, it is something much more beautiful than any trip to Europe +would be." + +"It can't be. Jack," cried Amy positively, and burrowing her sunny head +into his waistcoat. + +[Illustration: AMY.] + +"Listen--and don't interrupt again," said her big brother. "Amy--how can +I tell it? Amy, if Miss Pepper will--will marry me, I will bless God all +my life!" + +This time Amy sprang to the middle of the floor of Miss Salisbury's +small reception-room. "Marry you, Brother Jack!" she screamed. "Oh! how +perfectly elegant! It's too lovely for anything--oh! my darling Miss +Pepper," and so on, till Jack couldn't make her hear a word. + +"Amy--Amy," at last he said, getting up to her, to lay an imperative +hand on her arm, "what would Miss Pepper say--don't get so excitable, +child--to see you now? Do hush!" + +"I know it," said Amy, stopping instantly, and creeping humbly back to +the sofa; "Miss Pepper was always telling me how to stop screaming at +everything I liked; and not to cry at things I didn't like," she +confessed frankly. + +"Well, then, if you love her," said Jack, going back to sit down by her +again, "you will try to do what she says. And you do love her, I am +quite sure, Amy." + +"I love her so," declared Amy, "that I would do any and everything she +ever asked me to, Brother Jack." + +"I thought so," said Jack. "Well, now, Amy, I must tell you that I went +to see Mrs. Fisher to-day, to ask her if I may speak to Miss Pepper. And +she gives me full permission; and so I shall go to Brierly to-morrow, +and try my fate." + +"It won't be any trying at all," cried Amy superbly, and stretching her +neck to look up with immense pride at her tall brother. "She can't help +loving you, Jack! Oh! I am so happy." + +Jack Loughead's dark face had a grave look on it as he glanced down at +her. "I hope so," he said simply. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THAT SETTLES MANY THINGS. + + +"It's perfectly dreadful," cried Alexia Rhys, wrinkling her brows, "to +try to get up anything with Polly away. If we only had Joel to help us, +that would be something"-- + +"Well, it's got to be done," said Clem Forsythe, in a matter-of-fact +way. + +"Of course it has," cried Alexia gustily. "Dear me," in a tone of +horror, "did you suppose that we'd let Polly Pepper go on year after +year getting up perfectly elegant things for us, and then we not +celebrate for her, when she comes home, and with a broken arm, too? The +idea, Clem!" + +"Well, then I think we much better set to work to think up something," +observed Clem wisely, "if we are going to do anything." + +"We can't think of a single thing--not one," bemoaned Alexia; "it will +be a perfectly horrid fright, whatever we get up. Oh, dear! what shall +we do, girls?" + +"Alexia, you are enough to drive anybody wild," cried Sally Moore; "it's +bad enough to know there isn't an idea in all our heads put together, +without having you tell us of it every minute. Cathie Harrison, why +don't you say something, instead of staring that wall out of +countenance?" + +"Because I haven't anything to say," replied Cathie, laughing grimly and +leaning back in her chair resignedly. "Oh, dear! I think just as Alexia +does, it will be utterly horrid whatever we do." + +"Don't you be a wet blanket," cried two or three of the girls, "if +Alexia is. Oh, dear! Miss Chatterton, you are the only one of sense in +this company. Now do give us an idea," added one. + +"I don't know in the least how to help," said Charlotte Chatterton +slowly, and leaning her elbows on her knees she rested her head in her +hands. "I never got up a play or tableau, nor anything of the kind in my +life; and we never celebrated anything either; there was never anything +to celebrate--but I should think perhaps it would be better not to try +to do great things." + +"Why, Miss Chatterton," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, in great disapproval, and +starting forward in the pretty pink-trimmed basket chair. "I'm perfectly +surprised at you--nothing can be too good for Polly Pepper. We must get +up something perfectly magnificent, or else I shall die!" she cried +tragically. + +"Nothing can be too good for Polly," repeated Charlotte, taking her head +out of her hands and looking at Alexia, "but isn't it better not to try +to be too grand, and have something simple, because, whatever we do, +Polly must always have had things so much nicer." + +"In other words, it's better to hit what you aim at, than to shoot at +the clouds and bring down nothing," said Clem sententiously. + +"Yes--yes, I think so," cried Cathie, clapping her hands; "it's awfully +vulgar to try to cut a dash--that is, if you can't do it," she added +quickly. + +[Illustration: "NOTHING CAN BE TOO GOOD FOR POLLY PEPPER!" CRIED ALEXIA, +STARTING FORWARD.] + +"Don't say 'awfully,'" corrected Alexia, readjusting herself in her +pink-and-white chair. "Well, I suppose you are right, Miss Chatterton; +you're always right; being, as I said, a person of sense." + +Charlotte gave a short laugh, but with a little bitter edge to it. Why +would the girls who now seemed to be so glad to have her in the center +of all their plans, persist in calling her Miss Chatterton? It gave her +a chill every time, and she fairly hated the name. + +"And now since we are going to follow your advice," went on Alexia, "be +so good as to tell us a little bit more. Now what shall we do in the way +of a simple, appropriate fandango--a perfect idyl of a thing, you know?" + +"Well," said Charlotte quietly, "you know in the olden time at +Christmas"-- + +"But this isn't Christmas," cried Alexia, interrupting with an uneasy +gesture. + +"Do be still," cried the other girls, pulling at her, "and let Miss +Chatterton finish"-- + +"At Christmas ages ago, when special honor was done to entertain the +King wherever he was lodged," went on Charlotte, "there was a Lord of +Misrule, who gathered together a company of ladies and gentlemen, who +rummaged the old castles for grotesque costumes and furbelows. And then +masked, they all came in and marched before the King, and danced, +oh--everything--we might have Minuets and Highland Flings, and all the +rest. And they did everything the Lord of Misrule directed, and"-- + +"Charlotte Chatterton, you are a jewel!" cried Alexia, tumbling out of +her chair, and flying at her, which example was followed by all the +other girls. + +"Thank you," cried Charlotte, with glistening eyes. + +"Thank you? I guess we do thank you," cried Sally Moore heartily, "for +getting us out of this scrape." + +"Oh! I don't mean that," said Charlotte indifferently, "I mean because +you called me by my first name, the same as you girls always talk to +each other." + +There was a little pause. "Oh! we didn't know as you'd like it," broke +in Alexia hastily, "you are so tall, and you never seem in a hurry, nor +as if you cared a straw about being like a girl, and we didn't dare. But +now, oh, Charlotte--Charlotte!" And she gave her a hug that well repaid +Charlotte for all the past. + +"That's a regular bear-hug," she cried at last, releasing her and taking +a long breath, "and equal to a few dozen common every-day ones." + +"If Charlotte can breathe after that," said Clem, turning on Charlotte a +pair of glowing eyes, "she'll do well. We are just as glad to call you +Charlotte, aren't we, girls," whirling around on the group, "as Alexia, +for all her bear-hug." + +"Yes--yes," cried the whole bevy. + +"Well, now, girls," said Alexia, running over to give Clem a small +shake, "let's to business. There isn't any time to waste. Charlotte +Chatterton, will you tell us the rest of it, and who will be the Lord of +Misrule?--dear me, if we only had Joel here!" + +"I think Doctor Fisher would be the Lord of Misrule," said Charlotte; +"he said he'd do anything we wanted of him, to help out." + +The girls one and all gave a small howl, and clapped their hands, +crying, "Capital--capital!" + +"Let's go and ask him now!" cried Alexia, who wasn't anything if not +energetic; and running to her closet, she picked off her hat from the +shelf and tossed it on her head. "Oh, how slow you are, girls--do +hurry!" as the others flew to the bed where their different head-gear +had been thrown. + +"But it's his office hours," said Charlotte, hating in her new-found +happiness at being one with the girls, to put a damper on their plan. + +"Bother! supposing it is," exclaimed Alexia, in front of her +pink-and-white draped mirror, while she ran the long hat pins through +her fluffy hair, "it's as important to take care of us girls, as if we +were a lot of patients. We shall be, if we don't get this fixed. Come +on, girls!" she seized a lace scarf from some mysterious corner, and +pranced to the door, shaking her gloves at the group. + +"I don't think we ought to go, now," said Charlotte distinctly, not +offering to join the merry scramble for the wearing apparel on the bed. + +"Charlotte Chatterton!" cried Alexia, thoroughly annoyed, "aren't you +ashamed of yourself? Don't listen to her, girls, but come on," and she +ran out to the head of the stairs. + +The other girls all stopped short. + +"I don't think Polly would like it, and it isn't right," said Charlotte, +hating to preach, but standing her ground. At this Alexia, out in the +hall, came running back. + +"Oh! dear--dear, it's perfectly dreadful to be with such good people! +There, now, Charlotte, don't look like that," rushing up to the tall +girl and standing on tiptoe to drop a kiss on the sallow cheek--"we +won't go; we'll stay at home and be martyrs," and she began to tear off +her hat with a tragic air. + +"Why not go to Madam Dyce's and ask her to loan us some of her old +brocades and bonnets?" proposed Cathie Harrison suddenly. "She's got a +perfect lot of horrible antiques." + +"The very thing!" cried Alexia, the others coming in as chorus. + +Charlotte Chatterton rushed as happily as any of them for her walking +things. "And then Doctor Fisher's office hours may be over, and we may +stop there on our way home," she cried. + +Doctor Fisher's office hours were not only over, but the little doctor +assured one and all of the eager group that precipitated themselves upon +him, that nothing would give him greater delight than to be a Lord of +Misrule at the celebration to be gotten up for the home-coming. + +"And it's a very appropriate way to celebrate, my dears," he said, +beaming at them over his large spectacles; "for it will be for the +coming of the King; King by name as well as nature," and he laughed +enjoyably at his own pun. "And I'm sure nobody ever did rule his kingdom +so well as our Grandpapa. So let's have a splendid mummery, or masquing, +or whatever you call it; and in my opinion, you were very smart to think +it up." + +Thereupon Alexia pulled Charlotte Chatterton unwillingly into the center +of the group that surrounded the little doctor. "We didn't; it was all +Charlotte," she said. + +Doctor Fisher took a long look at the pink spot on Charlotte's sallow +cheek, and into her happy eyes, then he turned and surveyed the bevy. + +"We'll have a good time, my dears," he said. + + * * * * * + +"Now, Polly," exclaimed old Mr. King, drawing her back an instant before +stepping into Farmer Higby's big carryall, waiting at the station as the +train came in, "you mustn't even look as if you had any secret on your +mind--oh, come now, that won't do, my dear," turning her around to +study the dancing eyes and rosy cheeks. "I can't take you home looking +like that, I really can't, my dear." + +Polly tried to pull down her face, but with such poor success that the +old gentleman sighed in dismay. + +"Well, you must be careful to keep away from everybody as much as you +can," he whispered, as he helped her into the ancient vehicle, "and +whatever you do, don't say much to Jasper, or you'll surely let the +whole thing out," and he got in beside her. "There, drive on, do, Mr. +Higby." + +"You'll tell Jasper that he is to go back to Mr. Marlowe?" Polly leaned +over and was guilty of whispering behind Farmer Higby's broad back. "Oh, +Grandpapa! you won't keep him waiting to know that, will you?" she begged +anxiously. + +"No; that shall be at once, as soon as I see my boy," replied the old +gentleman; "but, the rest, Polly; how Mr. Marlowe is coming to look in +upon us at our own home, and to meet us the very evening we +arrive--that's to be kept as dark as possible." + +"Yes, indeed," cried Polly, getting back into her own corner with a +happy little wriggle, all unconscious of Grandpapa's conspiracy with +Mother Fisher in regard to the home-coming. + +"For if I can't have the surprise party I started for," declared the old +gentleman to himself, "I'll have a jollification at the other end." So +he had telegraphed to Mrs. Fisher an additional message to his many +letters, all on the same subject--"Have what celebration you like, and +invite whom you like. And let it be gay, for the College boys have got +leave, and they bring a friend." + +And at such intervals when he could take his mind from Jasper and his +affairs, it afforded Mr. King infinite delight to tap a certain letter +in his breast pocket, that opened, might have revealed in bold +characters, a great deal of gratitude for his kindness in inviting the +writer on with Joel, which was gladly accepted and signed Robert +Bingley. + +"Where's Jasper?" said Mr. King, as he and Polly got out of the carryall +into the bustle of the farmhouse delight over their return. + +"He's gone fishing with Phronsie," said Mrs. Cabot; "we didn't any of us +expect you till this afternoon." + +"Goodness me! couldn't they go fishing any other day?" cried the old +gentleman irascibly. "Well, I suppose there's no help for it. Ah! +Loughead, that you?" extending a cordial hand to the tall figure waiting +at the end of the porch till the family greetings were over; "glad to +see you." + +But Jack Loughead had no eyes for anybody but Polly's happy face; and he +barely touched the extended palm, while he mumbled something about being +glad to be there; then awkwardly stood still. + +Mrs. Cabot, who evidently did not regard him in the friendliest of +lights, turned her back upon him, keeping her arm around Polly. +"Pickering is waiting to see you," she said, and trying to draw her off. + +"I'll come in a minute," said Polly, breaking away from her, and taking +a step toward Jack Loughead. + +"How do you do?" she said, putting out her hand. + +Jack Loughead seized it eagerly. "May I see you--just now?" he asked in +a quick, low voice. "I have your mother's permission to tell you +something"--- + +"From Mamsie," cried Polly, her beaming face breaking into fresh smiles; +"yes, indeed, Mr. Loughead." + +"About--myself," stumbled Jack truthfully, "but your mother gave me +permission to speak to you. Will you go down the lane, Miss Pepper, +while I can tell you?" + +[Illustration: HE WALKED OFF, LEAVING POLLY ALONE IN THE LANE] + +So Polly, despite Mrs. Cabot's calls "Come, Polly," nodded to Grandpapa, +who said, "All right, child, don't be gone long," and moved off with +Jack Loughead "down the lane," fresh with spring blossoms and gay with +bird songs. + +"I don't know how," said Jack Loughead, after a moment's pause, during +which Polly had lifted her face to look at him wonderingly, "to tell +you. I have never been among ladies, and my mother died when I was +fifteen; since that I have been working hard, and known no other life. +You have been so kind to Amy," he said suddenly, as if there were a +refuge in the words. + +"Oh, don't put it that way," cried Polly, full of sympathy, "Amy is a +dear little thing; I am very fond of her." + +He turned glad eyes on her. "Yes, I know. And when you spoke to me and +showed me my duty, I"-- + +"Oh!" cried Polly, with cheeks aflame, "don't make me think of that +time. How could I speak so, and to you, who know so much more of duty +than I ever could imagine? Pray forget it, Mr. Loughead," she begged. + +"I can't," said Jack Loughead gravely, "for it was the kindest thing I +ever supposed one could say to another--and then--I from that +time--loved you, Miss Pepper!" + +Polly Pepper stopped short in the lane. "Oh, don't--don't!" she begged, +and covered her face with her hands. + +"I must tell you," said Jack Loughead, still gravely, and standing +quietly to look at her; "and I have come to ask you to marry me." + +"Oh!" cried Polly again, and not daring to look at him, "I am so sorry," +she cried, "I wouldn't hurt you for all the world, Mr. Loughead." + +"I know it," he said, waiting for her to finish. + +"For--for, I do like you so much--so very much," cried poor Polly, +wishing the birds wouldn't sing so loud. "You have taught me so much, +oh, so much, I can't tell you, Mr. Loughead, about being true and noble, +and"-- + +He waited patiently till she began again. + +"But I couldn't marry you; oh, I couldn't," here Polly forced herself to +look at him, but her head went down again at sight of his face. + +"You sha'n't be troubled," said Jack Loughead gently, "I'll take myself +out of the way, and make all excuses at the house." + +[Illustration: "MY! WHAT A SIGHT OF FISH! EXCLAIMED MRS. HIGBY, DROPPING +TO HER KNEES BESIDE THE BASKET.] + +"Oh! do forgive me," Polly sprang after him, to call. + +He turned and tried to smile, then walked off, leaving Polly standing in +the lane. + + * * * * * + +"Jasper," said Mrs. Cabot in great irritation, when Jasper and Phronsie +wandered into Mrs. Farmer Higby's neat kitchen a half-hour later, with +torn garments and muddy shoes, "they got home while you were away, and +that tiresome Mr. Loughead came a little before them; and he made Polly +go to walk with him; actually made her!" Mrs. Cabot leaned her jeweled +hands on Mrs. Higby's spotless pine table, and regarded him in great +distress. + +Jasper bent his broad straw hat over the basket of fish a minute. + +"Oh!" screamed Phronsie, clapping grimy little hands and darting off, +"have they come?" + +"My! what a sight of fish," exclaimed Mrs. Higby, getting down on her +knees before the basket. "Now I s'pose you want some fried for dinner, +don't you, Mr. Jasper?" + +"Yes," said Jasper, bringing his gaze off from the fish, "I think they +better be, Mrs. Higby," and he went out of the kitchen without looking +at Mrs. Cabot. + +Up at the head of the stairs he ran against Jack Loughead. + +"It's all against me, King," said Jack unsteadily. + +Jasper lifted heavy eyes, that, all at once, held a lightning gleam. +Then he put his good right hand on Jack's shoulder. + +"I'm sorry for you," he said. + +"One thing, King," said Jack gratefully, "will you have an eye to my +uncle? He won't come with me now, but insists on going with your father +who kindly invited us both to go home with you all. And when he is +ready, just telegraph me and I will meet him at New York." + +"I'll do it gladly," said Jasper, quite shocked at Jack's appearance; +"anything more, Loughead? Do let me help you." + +"Nothing," said Jack, without looking back. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +HOME! + + +"I don't want to leave you, Mrs. Higby," said Phronsie slowly. + +Mrs. Higby looked as if she were about to throw her apron over her head +again. "You blessed child!" she exclaimed, half-crying and allowing her +hands to rest on the rim of the dish-pan. + +"You have been so very good to us," continued Phronsie, shaking her +yellow head decidedly. "I love you, Mrs. Higby, very much indeed." With +that she clasped the farmer's wife around her stout waist and held her +closely. + +"Dear--dear!" cried Mrs. Higby, violently caressing Phronsie; "you +precious lamb, you, to think I sha'n't hear you pattering around any +more, nor asking questions." + +"I've made you ever so much trouble, Mrs. Higby," said Phronsie, in a +penitent little voice, and enjoying to the fullest extent the petting +she was receiving. "And I'm so sorry." + +"Trouble!" exploded the farmer's wife, smoothing Phronsie's yellow hair +with her large red hands, "the land! it's only a sight of comfort you've +been. Why, I've just set by you!" + +"I've come in here," said Phronsie, reflectively peering around at the +spotless kitchen floor, "with muddy boots on and spoiled it; and I've +talked when you wanted to weigh out things, and make cake, and once, +don't you remember, Mrs. Higby, I left the pantry door open and the cat +got in and ate up part of the custard pudding." + +"Bless your heart!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, with another squeeze, "I've +forgot all about it." + +"But I haven't," said Phronsie, with a sigh, "and I'm sorry." + +"Well, now," said the farmer's wife, "I'll tell you how we will settle +that; if you'll come again to the farm, and give my old eyes a sight of +you, that'll make it all right." + +"You're not old," cried Phronsie, wriggling enough out of Mrs. Higby's +arms to look at the round red cheeks and bright eyes. "Oh, Mrs. Higby! +and you're just as nice!" With that she clasped her impulsively around +the neck. "And Pickering likes you too, Mrs. Higby," continued Phronsie, +"he says you're as good as gold." + +"You don't say so!" cried Mrs. Farmer Higby, intensely gratified; "well, +he's as nice a boy as ever lived, I'm sure, and I'm just as tickled as I +can be that that fever was broke up so sudden, for you see, Phronsie, +he's got the making of being a right smart man yet." + +"Grandpapa is going to have Pickering go home with us," said Phronsie, +confidentially, and edging away from the farmer's wife to facilitate +conversation. "And he's going to stay at our house with us till he gets +nice and strong." + +"Well, I'm dreadful glad of that," declared Mrs. Higby heartily, "for +that a'nt of his--well, there, Phronsie, she ain't to my taste; she is +such a making sort of woman--she comes in here and she wants to make me +do this, and do that, till I'm most out of my wits, and I'd like to take +my broom and say 'scat' as I do to the cat," and a black frown settled +on Mrs. Higby's pleasant face. + +Phronsie began to look quite grave. "She loves Pickering," she said +thoughtfully, "and when he was so bad she cried almost all the time, +Mrs. Higby." + +"Oh! she loves him well enough," answered Mrs. Higby, "but she fusses +over him so, and wants her way all the same. It would be good if she +thought somebody else knew something once in a while," and she began to +splash in the dish-pan vigorously to make up for lost time, quickly +heaping up a pile of dishes to drain on the little old tray. + +"Let me wipe them, do, Mrs. Higby," begged Phronsie eagerly, and without +waiting for the permission she felt quite sure of, Phronsie picked up +the long brown towel and set to work. + +Upstairs Jasper and his father were going over again all the incidents +of Mr. King's and Polly's trip, that the old gentleman was willing to +communicate, and Jasper, despite his eagerness to know all the whys and +wherefores, held himself in check as well as he could, scarcely +realizing that he was really to go back to Mr. Marlowe's. + +And Polly and Mrs. Cabot were busily packing, with the aid of a farmer's +daughter who lived near, while Polly, who dearly loved to do it all +herself, was forced to stand by and direct matters; and old Mr. Loughead +divided his time between stalking out to the piazza where Pickering was +slowly pacing back and forth in his "constitutional," to insist that he +shouldn't "walks his legs off," and calling Polly from her work, "just +to help me a bit, my dear"--when he got into a tight place over the +packing that he insisted should be done by none but his own two hands. + +And the whole farmhouse was soon thrown into such a bustle and ferment, +that any one looking in would have known without the telling, that "Mr. +King's family are going home." And after a day or so of all this, Farmer +Higby carried a wagon-load of trunks down to the little station, and his +wife drove the carryall, in the back of which Pickering was carefully +tucked with Mrs. Cabot, who insisted on being beside him, and old Mr. +Loughead in front--the others of the party merrily following in a large +old vehicle of no particular pattern whatever--and before anybody could +hardly realize it, the train came rushing in, and there were hurried +good-bys, and hand-shakes, and they were off--Phronsie crying as she +held to her, "I wish you were going too, I do, dear Mrs. Higby." And the +farmer and his wife were left on the platform, staring after them with +sorry eyes. + +"Well, now, Phronsie," said Mr. King, as they quieted down, and Phronsie +turned back after the last look at the little station, "I think it is +time to answer your question, so as to let you go home without anything +on your mind." + +"About Charlotte, you mean, Grandpapa?" whispered Phronsie softly, with +wide eyes, and glancing back to see that no one else heard. + +"To be sure--about Charlotte," said the old gentleman. "Well, I've +concluded you ought to have your way, and make Charlotte a gift of some +money, if you want to." + +"Oh, Grandpapa!" cried Phronsie, in a suppressed scream, and having +great difficulty not to clap her hands; "oh, how good!" then she sat +quite still, and folded them in silent rapture. + +"And I'll see that it is fixed as soon as may be after we get home," +said the old gentleman, "and I'm sure I'm glad you've done it, Phronsie, +for I think Charlotte is a very good sort of a girl." + +"Charlotte is just lovely," cried Phronsie, with warmth, "and I think, +Grandpapa, that dear Mrs. Chatterton up in heaven, is glad too, that +I've done it." + +Old Mr. King turned away with a mild snort, and then not finding any +words to say, picked up the newspaper, and Phronsie, full of her new +happiness, looked out the window as the cars sped along. + +"There's Thomas!" cried Jasper, at sight of that functionary waiting on +his carriage-box as he had waited so many other times for them; now for +the jolliest of all home-comings. + +"And the girls," finished Polly, craning her neck to look out the car +window at a knot of them restlessly curbing their impatience on the +platform as the train moved into the station and--"why, Mamsie. Oh, +Jasper! how slow we are!" + +Pickering Dodge shook his long legs impatiently as he got out of his +seat. "Don't try to help me, Mr. Loughead," he said testily, as the old +gentleman offered his arm; "I'm not sick now. No, thanks, I'll go out +alone." + +Jasper now ran up, but he didn't offer to help, but waited patiently for +Pickering's slow movements as he worked his way unsteadily down the +aisle. + +"Don't stop by me," said Pickering, rather crossly, "go ahead, Jasper, +and get the fun." + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Jasper, yet feeling his heart bound at the merry +din as Polly was surrounded, and the babel of voices waxed louder; for +everybody was now out of the car but Pickering and himself--"here we are +now," as they neared the car step. + +Alexia Rhys, back on the platform hanging to Polly who had one hand in +Mother Fisher's at the expense of all the other girls who couldn't get +the chance, looked up and saw Pickering Dodge, and dropping Polly's arm +she ran lightly across the stream of passengers and put out her hand. + +"How do you do, Pickering? it's so good to see you back." + +Pickering shot her an astonished glance, then he said gratefully, "Thank +you, Alexia," and he actually let her help him down the steps, which so +astonished her that it took away her breath and left her without a word +to say. + +And the rest was all bustle and confusion--Mr. King declaring it was +worse than a boarding-school--everybody talking together--and Jasper ran +off to see to the luggage for the whole party, followed by Ben trying to +help. And old Mr. Loughead had to be introduced all around, and little +Doctor Fisher tried to get them all settled in the carriages, but at +last gave it up in despair. + +"Charlotte, my girl, go and tell Polly to get in, will you?" he said, +turning to Charlotte Chatterton. "Phronsie won't stir till Polly is +settled." + +"Oh, Polly! let me drive you home; I've got my dog-cart here," cried Clem +Forsythe alluringly, and trying to pull her off as Charlotte ran up with +her message. + +"No, no," cried Sally Moore, "I brought my phaeton on purpose; you know +I did, Clem--come with me, Polly, do." + +"You'll have to get in here," called Doctor Fisher, waiting at the +carriage, "to end it." + +"Yes, I think I shall," said Polly merrily, and running to him followed +by Phronsie. "Girls, come over this evening, won't you?" she looked back +to call after them. + +"Yes, we'll be over this evening," cried the girls back again, and +Phronsie hopping in after her, the carriage-door was shut, and off they +rolled. + +And old Turner was waiting at the steps as the carriage rolled up the +winding drive, with a monstrous bouquet of his choicest blossoms for +Polly, and one exactly like it only a little smaller, for Phronsie; and +Prince came rushing out getting in every one's way and nearly devouring +Phronsie; and there was King Fisher running away on toddling feet from +his nurse to meet them, screaming with all his might; and Mrs. Fargo +with Johnny in her arms crowing with delight--all stood on the broad +stone porch. + +"Oh--oh!" cried Polly, jumping out, her cheeks aflame; "are we really at +home!" + +"Oh--oh!" echoed Phronsie, flying at them all, and trying to keep hold +of Prince at the same time. + +And there in the wide hall drawn back within the shadow of the oaken +door, were Mr. and Mrs. Whitney and Dick ready to pounce upon them in a +moment. + +And no one ever hinted a suspicion that the college boys were steaming +along as fast as they could, for the evening's festivities; and old Mr. +King appeared superbly indifferent to the fact that Mr. Marlowe was +waiting at a hotel for that hour to arrive; and everybody rushed off to +get ready for dinner, with the exception of Polly and Jasper and +Phronsie. + +"Oh! we must go in the conservatory just for a minute," begged Phronsie, +flying off on eager feet. + +"We'll only take one peep," said Polly, just as eagerly, "come on, +Jasper." + +And then Polly had to run into the long drawing-room, and just look at +her piano, and lay her fingers lovingly on the keys. + +"Don't try it with your lame hand, Polly," begged Jasper, close beside. + +"No, I won't," promised Polly, running light scales with the fingers of +the other hand. "But oh! Jasper, I do verily believe I could. My arm +feels so well." + +"Well, don't, Polly," begged Jasper again. + +"No, of course I won't," said Polly, with a little laugh, "but it won't +be many weeks, you dear"--this to the piano, as she unwillingly got up +from the music-stool, and let Jasper lead her off--"before you and I +have all our good times together!" + + * * * * * + +Polly, in a soft white gown, sat on a low seat by Mother Fisher's side, +her head in Mamsie's lap. It was after dinner, and the gas was turned +low. + +"Mamsie," said Polly, and she threw one hand over her head to clasp +Mother Fisher's strong fingers closer, "it's so good to be home--oh! you +can't think how I wanted you." + +Just then somebody looked into Mother Fisher's bedroom. + +"Oh! beg pardon," said Jasper, as he saw them. But there was so much +longing in the voice that Polly called out, "Oh! come, Jasper. May he, +Mamsie?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Fisher; "come in, Jasper." + +Jasper came in quickly and stood a moment looking down at them. "It's so +lovely to be home, Jasper," said Polly, looking up at him and playing +with her mother's fingers. + +"Isn't it?" cried Jasper, with feeling, "there never was anything so +nice! Mrs. Fisher, may I sit down by you here?" and he went over to her +where she sat on the sofa--it was the same big comfortable affair where +Joel had flung himself, when he declared he could not keep on at school; +and where Mamsie had often sat when the children brought her their +troubles, declaring it was easier to tell her everything on the roomy, +old-fashioned sofa, than anywhere else. + +"Yes, indeed!" cried Mrs. Fisher cordially, and making way for him to +sit down by her side. + +"Now isn't this nice!" breathed Polly, lifting her head out of her +mother's lap to look at him on Mamsie's other side. "Now, Jasper, you +begin, and we'll tell her all about it, as we always do, you know, when +we get home from places." + +"I want to tell her something--and to you too, Polly," began Jasper +quietly. "Mrs. Fisher--may I speak?" He leaned over and looked into the +black eyes above Polly's shining brown hair. + +"Yes," said Mother Fisher as quietly. + +"How funny you are, Jasper," cried Polly with a laugh, "asking Mamsie in +such a solemn way. There now, begin, do." + +"Polly," said Jasper, "look at me, do, dear!" + +Polly lifted her brown eyes quietly. "Why, Jasper?" + +[Illustration: "NOW, JASPER, YOU BEGIN," CRIED POLLY, "AND WE'LL TELL +MAMSIE ALL ABOUT IT, AS WE ALWAYS DO WHEN WE GET HOME!"] + +"I waited because I thought I ought," said Jasper, trying not to speak +too quickly. "It seemed at one time as if you were going to be happy, +and I should spoil it, Polly, if I spoke; but now--oh, Polly!" He put +out his hand, and Polly instinctively laid her own warm palm within it. +"Do you think you could love me--I've loved you ever since the Little +Brown House days, dear!" + +"Oh, Jasper!" Polly cried, with a glad ring in her voice, "how good you +are," and she clung to his hand across Mamsie's lap. + +"Will you, Polly?" cried Jasper, holding her hand so tightly that she +winced a bit, "tell me quickly, dear." + +"Will I what?" asked Polly wonderingly. + +"Love me, Polly." + +"Oh! I do--I do," she cried; "you know it, Jasper. I love you with all +my heart." + +"Polly, will you marry me? Tell her, Mrs. Fisher, do, and make her +understand," begged Jasper, turning to Mother Fisher imploringly. + +"Polly, child," said Mamsie, putting both arms around her, careful not +to disturb Jasper's hand over Polly's, "Jasper wants you to be his +wife--do you love him enough for that?" + +Polly, not taking her brown eyes from Jasper's face, laid her other hand +upon his, "I love him enough," she said, "for that; oh, Jasper!" + +Old Mr. King walked proudly down the long drawing-room with Polly on his +arm. Everybody was in the highest possible spirits. The Lord of Misrule +had made a triumphant entree, covering himself with glory and winning +great applause for his long train of masquers; whose costumes if not +gotten up on strict historical lines, made up any lack by the variety of +other contrivances, each one following his own sweet will in dressing. +They had gone through with the minuet and the pantomimes; and Charlotte, +in a peaked hat and a big flowered brocade gown rich with tambour lace, +had sung "like a nightingale," as more than one declared, and now the +room was in a buzz of applause. + +Old Mr. King took this time to walk up and down the long room with Polly +several times quite pompously; and once in a while the little Lord of +Misrule would rush up to them, say something very earnest, seize Polly's +hand and give it a shake and then dart away; which proceeding Joel would +imitate, at such times leaving Robert Bingley to his own devices--until +Joel, evidently struck by remorse, would as suddenly fly back and +introduce his college friend violently to right and left, to make up for +lost time. + +"That's three times you've introduced me to that girl in blue," said +Bingley, on one of these occasions, when he could get Joel aside for a +minute. "Do let me alone--I was having a good enough time where I was." + +"Did I?" cried Joel, opening his black eyes at him, "oh! beg pardon," +and off he rushed at Polly again. + +"How queerly they do act!" cried Alexia, to a knot of the girls. "And +just look at Mr. King, he holds on to Polly every minute--I'm going to +see what it's all about." + +So she hurried across the room as fast as her high-heeled slippers would +let her. "Polly--Polly, did you really like it all?" she asked +breathlessly. "Oh! dear me, this ruff will be the death of me," picking +at it with impatient fingers. + +"Don't, Alexia," cried Polly, "it's so pretty--it was all just as fine +as could be, and splendidly gotten up!" + +"Well, it nearly killed us," declared Alexia, fanning herself violently, +"and this old ruff will end me. There!" and she made a little break in +the starched affair under her chin, "that's one degree less of misery." + +"What would Queen Bess do to you?" cried Polly, saying the first thing +that came in her head, to keep off questions she saw trembling on +Alexia's tongue. + +"Queen Bess was an old goose to wear such a thing," retorted Alexia. +"Oh, Polly! do come with us. Let her, do, Mr. King," to the old +gentleman who made all sorts of signs that served to show he meant to +keep Polly to himself. "We girls want her now," she added saucily. + +"You keep away," said old Mr. King, with an emphatic nod and a twinkle +in his eye, "and the other girls; I'm going to have Polly tonight; you +can come over in the morning and see her." And he moved off coolly, +carrying Polly with him. + +[Illustration: "POLLY, DO COME WITH US !"] + +Alexia stood a moment transfixed with astonishment. "Joel--Joel, what is +it?" she cried in a stage whisper, as that individual pranced by in one +of his fits of remorse looking up Bingley. "Do tell me what's come over +Polly, and why does Mr. King act so queerly?" + +Joel flashed her a smile, but wouldn't say anything, and his eyes +twinkled so exactly like Mr. King's, that Alexia lost all patience. + +"Oh! you horrid boy," she cried, and ran back dismally to the girls, +with nothing to tell. + +And Charlotte Chatterton walked as if she disdained the ground, her +peaked hat towering threateningly, while her sallow face was wreathed +with smiles; and it seemed as if she couldn't sing enough, throwing in +encores in a perfectly reckless fashion. + +"What is it? oh! I shall die if I don't know," exclaimed Alexia, over +and over. "Girls, if some of you don't find out what's going on, I shall +fly crazy!" + +And the room buzzed and buzzed with delight, the growing mystery not +lessening the hilarity. + +"That's an uncommonly fine fellow I've just been talking with," said +Mason Whitney, coming up to old Mr. King still keeping Polly by his +side; "I haven't met such a man in one spell; he's a thorough-going +intellectual chap, and he's been around the world a good deal, it's easy +to see by his fine manner. Where did you pick him up?" + +"Whom are you talking of, Mason?" asked Mr. King, in his crispest +fashion. + +"Why, that new man--Mr.--Mr.--I didn't catch the name when I was +introduced, that you invited here to-night," said Mr. Whitney, with a +little touch of the asperity yet remaining over the failure of his plan +for Jasper, and he jerked his head in the direction of Mr. Marlowe. + +"He?--oh! that's Jasper's publisher, Mr. Marlowe," said the old +gentleman, trying to speak carelessly; then he burst into a laugh at Mr. +Whitney's face. + +"Whew!" exclaimed that gentleman, as soon as he could speak, "I've got +to eat humble pie before my fourteen-year-old son Dick, and you've taken +my breath away, Polly," looking at her blooming cheeks and happy eyes, +"with that piece of news, and"-- + +"What news--oh, what news?" cried Alexia, coming up, too frantic to +remember her manners. "Please tell us girls, for we are dying to know." + +"You come away!" retorted Mr. Whitney unceremoniously, and Mr. King +laughed, and Polly shook her white fan at them as the two moved off, and +it was just as bad as ever! + +"Pickering, do you know?" at last demanded Alexia, as he leaned against +the doorway surveying the bright crowd. + +"Yes, I know enough--that is, I can guess--don't ask me." + +"Oh, what!" breathlessly cried Alexia, seizing his arm; "do tell me, +Pickering, that is a dear--oh, I thought I was talking to the girls--I +don't know what I'm doing anyway, Polly has so upset me." + +"Well, she has upset me, too, Alexia," said Pickering gloomily, "but it +isn't her fault; she couldn't help it." + +Alexia, feeling that here was coming something quite worth her while to +hear, waited patiently. + +"You all know I've loved Polly for years," said Pickering steadily; "I +made no secret of it." + +"I know it," said Alexia, full of sympathy, and not daring to breathe, +lest she should spoil it all. "Well, go on." + +"And when I was sick, I hoped that things might be different--for Polly +was sorry for me. But one day Aunt was talking about it to me, in a way +that made me mad, and I knew that Polly would be bothered awfully if she +ever got at her, so I told Polly the first chance I got, that she was +never to be sorry for me any more, for I'd made up my mind not to think +of her in that way again; which was an awful lie," declared Pickering +suddenly, standing quite erect, "for I can't help it." + +"Oh, dear--dear!" exclaimed Alexia, quite gone in sympathy, "aren't +things just shameful in the world! Of course you oughtn't to be allowed +to marry Polly, for you are not half good enough for her, Pickering," +she added frankly, "but I'm so sorry for you!" and she put out her hand +instinctively. + +Pickering took it, and held it a minute in a calm grasp, with the air of +a man considering it better to take the little, since he couldn't get +all he wanted. + +[Illustration: "And you will be my own brother, Jasper," said Phronsie.] + +"But now tell why Polly and Mr. King and all the family act so funnily?" +cried Alexia, pulling away her hand and suddenly awaking to the fact +that this important piece of news had not been made known to her. + +"Can't you see for yourself?" cried Pickering, with an impatient stare. +"Why, Alexia, where are your eyes?" which was all she could get him to +say, as Pickering walked off immediately. + +Jasper all this while seemed to find it impossible to be separated from +Mother Fisher; and together they wandered up and down the drawing-room, +Phronsie clinging to his hand. "I always longed since the Little Brown +House days, to call you Mamsie," he said affectionately, looking down +into Mrs. Fisher's face, "and now I can!" + +"And you will really and truly be my very own brother, Jasper," said +Phronsie, as they walked on. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Five Little Peppers Grown Up, by Margaret Sidney + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS GROWN UP *** + +This file should be named 5pepr10.txt or 5pepr10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 5pepr11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 5pepr10a.txt + +Produced by Naomi Parkhurst, Juliet Sutherland, +Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +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. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/5pepr10.zip b/old/5pepr10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..934ec7a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/5pepr10.zip |