 CHAPTER 14 The Island of Markin When the boat was nearing the island of Markin the little yellow cheese had been presented with all due formality to one of the sailors, who had been specially kind in the matter of securing good seats for Mr. King's party, Polly and Fronzie having held a whispered conference in a retired nook, to come out of it bright and smiling. "'And now it has made two people happy, Fronzie,' Polly had said, when the presentation was well over and she ended up with the kiss, "'It made me happy in the first place because you thought of me, and then, just think, Pet, that poor sailor how glad he will be to take it home?' "'Will he, Polly?' asked Fronzie in a rapture. "'And do you think he has got any little girls?' "'Perhaps so,' said Polly, and at any rate he can eat it himself, and he looks hungry enough.' "'I'd rather he had some little girls, Polly,' said Fronzie thoughtfully, and have him give them each a piece.' "'Well, maybe he has some. We'll think so anyway,' Polly answered. "'Oh, see, Jasper is calling us.' To be sure, there he was on the other side of the boat, nearest Markin, with a big group of passengers intently watching the Markin children running along in their clacking sobos on the high bank, and holding out their arms, singing something all the while in a shrill high key. "'They want some stivers,' cried Jasper. "'Come, Polly, and Fronzie, let us toss them some.' "'Wiz, bin,' went the coins, to fall into the thick stubby grass on the bank. The children, stopping their song in mid-air, scrambled and sprawled all over each other in their efforts to secure the coveted money. So Jasper and Polly threw the bits next time in the other direction. Then there was a shout and a rush, and the same thing was repeated till only a tangle of arms and legs could be seen. But some one of them always got the money. "'Dim me! They've eyes just like birds,' exclaimed Parson Henderson, to think of finding anything in that thick grass. "'Let them alone for that,' laughed old Mr. King. Their wits are sharpened by practice.' "'Look out, Fronzie,' exclaimed Jasper. Your stivers went into the water. Here, I'll hold you up, then you can throw it farther. There you go,' swinging her to his shoulder. Now then he guided her hand and away spun the coin. "'It did, it did,' croed Fronzie from her high perch. "'It did, Jasper, go right straight down in the grass, just like yours and Polly's.' "'So it did, pet. Well now here is another.' "'There's a little girl back there, and she hasn't any,' mourned Fronzie. "'Oh, dear, I want to give her some.' "'To be sure,' said Jasper. "'Well, we must give her some, and that's a fact.' The small girl kept on at a dog-trot along the bank, her eyes fixed on the wonderful people who tossed out such magic wealth and holding out her arms and singing her shrill song. But when the money was thrown she was always a bit too late, and the other children scrambling and scuffling had pounced upon it and had made off with it. "'Here, you boys, keep away, you've had enough. We're going to give this to the little girl,' Jasper shouted to them as they threw coin after coin. "'They don't know what you are saying, my boy,' said old Mr. King, laughing heartily at the performance, and they wouldn't mind you in the least if they did. "'I suppose not,' said Jasper and Chagrin. "'Oh, them mean little beggars.' "'Hold up your apron,' screamed Polly to the little girl. "'That's a good idea,' said Jasper. "'Why didn't we think of it before?' "'She won't understand any better than the boys,' said old Mr. King. "'You forget, children, that these youngsters don't know our language.' "'What a bother,' exclaimed Jasper. It is to have so many different languages, anyway. And she hasn't any apron, Polly,' corrected her mother. "'That is her brown gown.'" Polly was already going through the motions of holding up an imaginary apron. And at last the little girl understood by gestures what she could not possibly get into her head by words. So she picked up the skirt of her gown in her sturdy little fists, and one, two, three clinking coins fell safely into it. But the boys racing along in advance soon discovered this successful trick, and completely swarmed around her, howling dreadfully, so she hastened off, happy in her prize which she huddled up in her gown as she ran. "'Isn't this just richness?' exclaimed Polly, gazing all about her in an ecstasy. "'Oh, Jasper, what pictures we'll take! And do see that woman's cap, and those pot-hooks of hair over her eyes, and that funny, long-dingling curl. Take care, Polly!' You almost stepped off backward down the bank, warned Adela, pulling her back as they got off the steamboat, and stopped a bit to look around. "'Dear me, did I?' said Polly. "'Well, it's enough to make any one step backward to see such funny clothes. And they are hay-making, Adela Gray, as sure as you live.' "'Didn't you suppose they would be?' answered Adela composedly. "'Why, that's one of the things I specially wanted to see.' "'Yes, so did I,' said Polly. "'Well, it's too, too splendid for anything. I'm going to begin to take pictures right straight off.' Then she stopped and looked at Adela. "'You may first,' she said. "'No, I'm not going to,' declared Adela. "'Yes, yes,' said Polly. "'I'd rather you did first. I truly had, Adela.' She ran after her, for Adela had retreated down the bank, and made as if she were going to follow the party. Now, Adela, be good and listen to reason.' But Adela ran off. "'Well, that's too bad,' warned Polly, for I am afraid she'll keep away from me all the while we're on this island, and then I can't get a chance to give her my Kodak at all.' She had it at the model-farm, said Jasper, by way of comfort, for Polly's face fell. "'Oh, that was nothing,' said Polly. Such a little bit of a while doesn't count.' "'Well, let us take pictures as fast as we can,' suggested Jasper. And then when we do come up with Adela, you'll have yours done.' So Polly roused out of her dejection and set to work, and presently the hay-makers and the mark-and-boys and girls, the funny little houses that looked as if they dropped down pale mail from the clouds and settled where they had dropped, the high ridges along which the men and boys walking in their full baggy trousers looked as if they were blown up, and formed a Dutch perspective perfectly awful, all these queer, delightful things were presently imprisoned in the two Kodaks. Jasper looked up. "'There, that's my last picture,' he declared, at any rate for now.' "'Oh, one more! I must get a good picture of those girls raking hay!' Polly ran off a few steps and sat down on a log to focus. The mark-and-girls happened to look up and immediately whirled around and presented their backs to her. "'Oh, dear! How hateful!' she exclaimed. "'That would have been a splendid picture!' "'Never mind,' said Jasper. You can catch them unawares and have another try at them.' "'Not so good as that!' said Polly sorrowfully. "'Well, it can't be helped.' So she was just going to get up from her log when the girls, thinking from her attitude that she had given up the idea of taking a picture of them, turned back to their work. As quick as a flash Polly focused again and was just touching the button when a hand came in front of her Kodak and she saw the grinning face of a mark-and-girl under its pot-hook of hair and with the long dangling curl on one side close to her own. "'Too late!' exclaimed Polly. "'And don't you ever do that again!' And the hand was withdrawn and the girl clattered off as fast as she could run in her wooden shoes. "'I got them!' said Polly, running back in triumph to Jasper. "'Yes, and I took a picture of the saucy girl while she was trying to stop yours,' said Jasper. So she didn't do much harm after all. "'Oh, here is this blended group. See them standing by that old tumble-down house, Polly?' He added excitedly. "'I thought you had taken your last picture, Jasper,' said Polly, bursting into a laugh. "'Well, I have, then, but I've begun again,' said Jasper recklessly. He walked up to the group and held out his hand then pointed to his Kodak. They smiled and nodded, showing all their teeth, and the mother took the littlest baby, for there seemed to be a very generous number of the smaller members of the family, and sat down with it in her lap on the rickety step. Then they all drew up stiff as sticks and didn't even wink. "'That's capital!' said Jasper, in huge satisfaction, pouring the coins into the mother's lap where they rolled underneath the fat baby. Polly and he hurried on. "'Oh, Polly, I'm so very glad you've come,' said Fronzie. As Polly and Jasper ran up to a doorway through which they could see their party, Fronzie stood just inside and appeared to be watching for them. "'There's a woman here who's been showing us things.' There was Mrs. Fisher up by the tiny window, bending over an old woman who had spread out in her lap some white embroidered garments, while a young woman hovered near, smiling and blushing, and very happy at all this notice, and the rest of the party crowded up as close as they could. "'They are her daughter's wedding clothes,' said Mrs. Fisher. "'I do believe.' For the old woman was working fearfully hard to make them understand, and pointing first to the white garments and then to the young woman. "'Wedding clothes?' asked Mrs. Fisher, speaking very slowly. The old woman seemed to understand the one word, wedding, for she nodded furiously and smiled well-pleased, and then devoted her whole time and energy to the display of the garments, and she even laughed aloud when old Mr. King put some coins in her hard hand. Polly took the time to study her headgear. "'I think there is a round board under the cap,' she confided to Jasper when once out of doors. "'How else could they be pulled so tight? And they look as hard as a drum.' "'I didn't investigate,' he said, laughing. "'I'll leave that to you, Polly.' "'Well, it's funny, anyway,' she said, that all the women and girls dress alike in those queer gowns in two parts, and those embroidered jackets over their waists, and those caps and horrible pot-hooks and long curls. It's well that we've got so many pictures, for the people at home would never believe our stories without them.' "'And these houses,' continued Polly, squinting up at a crooked row. "'All colors—green stripes and black stripes—and oh dear me, Jasper King, just look at Fronzie!' Jasper followed the direction of Polly's finger. There sat Fronzie on a grassy bank a little above them, with one of the fattest mark-and-babies in her lap. A variegated group of natives was nearby watching her intently, but Fronzie didn't appear to notice them. "'Polly, I wish we had a baby just like this!' cried Fronzie, giving motherly pats to the stout little legs dangling down from her lap. "'Come, children,' Grandpapa emerged from the little old house. We must hurry on, else we shan't get through this island. Come, Fronzie, goodness me!' As you saw how she was occupied. "'May I carry her?' begged Fronzie, staggering to her feet. She's mine!' and dragging the mark-and-baby up with her. "'Goodness me, no child!' exclaimed Grandpapa in horror. "'Put her down, Fronzie. She's ever so much too heavy for you, dear!' He put forth a protesting hand, but the tears ran down Fronzie's cheeks and fell on the baby's stiff white cap. At that, old Mr. King was quite gone in despair. "'Fronzie!' Polly bent over and whispered close to the wet little cheek. "'Don't you see Grandpapa is feeling badly? I'm afraid he will be sick, Fronzie, if he is unhappy!' Fronzie dropped the pudgy little hand and threw herself into old Mr. King's arms. "'Don't be sick, Grandpapa!' she wailed, struggling with her tears. "'I'd rather not have my baby, please. I don't want her. Please be all well, Grandpapa, dear!' End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Mr. King does his duty. Fronzie's face appeared over Adela's shoulder. "'Don't!' said Adela, shrinking away into the corner of the big sofa, and putting her hands over something she held in her lap. "'Excuse me!' exclaimed Polly, tumbling back in amazement. "'I wasn't looking. I don't want to see. I only meant to surprise you. She kept backing off toward the door, the colour all over her round cheek. "'You mustn't get mad, Polly!' tried Adela, flying up straight to look at her, but still keeping her lap well covered. Her running in heard the words. "'Polly never gets mad,' he said slowly, standing quite still. "'Well, she is now just as mad as can be,' said Adela in a fretful little voice. "'Look at her.' "'Oh, I'm not mad, Adela,' began Polly. "'Only sorry. And it's my fault, Jasper,' seeing his face darken. "'For I looked over her shoulder. I only wanted to surprise her. And Adela, of course, thought I wanted to see what she was doing.' "'Yes,' said Adela, "'I did think so, Polly Pepper, and I don't want anybody to see it.' With that she huddled the thing whatever it was down by her side, and ran out of the room as fast as she could go. "'A disagreeable creature,' began Jasper hotly, and she's been a perfect nuisance all along to take her everywhere. Now we drop her, Polly. He looked more like his father at this moment than Polly had ever seen him before. "'Oh, no, Jasper,' she remonstrated in dismay. "'Yes, we drop her like a hot cake,' said Jasper decidedly. That would be my opinion, Polly. "'But we can't. She's so alone,' went on Polly. "'And besides, she's troubled about something. That's what makes her feel so. "'It's a queer way to bear trouble, I should think, to abuse you,' said Jasper, when you've been bothering yourself about her all this time. "'Oh, I don't mind,' said Polly, brightening up, if only you won't talk of our dropping her, Jasper.' Jasper turned on his heel and walked to the window. When he looked back, the annoyance had dropped out of his face, and he was just saying, "'All right, Polly, it ought to be as you say, I'm sure.' When Adela Gray rushed into the room and up to Polly and flung her arms around her neck. "'There, and there, and there!' And something tumbled into Polly's hands. "'I didn't want anybody to see it,' mumbled Adela, "'for I've spoiled it, and I was trying to rub out the spots when you came in, and I made it worse than ever. But I'll give it to you now, Polly, and please tear it up, and I'll make you another.' When this long speech was all mumbled out, Polly was looking at a little sketch of Francie holding the Fat Marken baby, and the Marken people looking on. "'Oh, Jasper!' screamed Polly. "'Do come here. "'Oh, Adela, did you draw this, and oh, how perfectly beautiful! All in one breath.' "'It is a good thing,' said Jasper, taking the drawing from Polly's hand, and examining it critically while Polly threw her arms around Adela, and owed and awed her delight at finding that she could draw and sketch so beautifully, and now to think of having this lovely picture of Francie. "'But you must tear it up,' said Adela in alarm. "'Else, I'm sorry I gave it to you, Polly.' "'Tare it up,' repeated Polly in astonishment. "'Tare up this lovely picture of Francie. What do you mean, Adela Gray?' "'A way of a copy, of course,' said Adela carelessly, and I'm going to do you another better one.' "'Where did you learn to draw so well?' asked Jasper in admiration of the bold, accurate lines and the graceful curves. "'In school at Paris,' said Adela quietly. Polly looked over Jasper's arm and scanned the sketch. "'I never saw anything so lovely,' she exclaimed. "'And it's just alive, isn't it, Jasper?' "'Yes, it is blended,' he said enthusiastically. "'And that's the best part of it. It's alive, Polly, as you say. "'I'd give anything in all this world, Adela, if I could draw like that,' mourned to Polly. "'I'd rather play on the piano,' said Adela, "'than do all the drawing in the world. But I can't learn. The music master said there was something the matter with my ear and I never could tell one note from another by the sound. I do so wish I could play on the piano, Polly Pepper.' She added discontentedly. "'Well, Jasper can do both. Play on the piano and draw, too,' said Polly. "'I can't draw like this,' said Jasper, holding the sketch off at arm's length, to view it again. I couldn't if I were to try a thousand years. "'Oh, Jasper!' exclaimed Polly, who couldn't bear to think there was anything that he could not do. "'Well, I can't,' said Jasper. "'Let me see some of your sketches,' begged Adela. "'It's so nice to find someone else who can draw. Do show me some.' "'Oh, no,' protested Jasper in dismay. "'Not after this,' pointing to Adela's drawing. "'Do Jasper,' begged Polly imploringly, "'get your portfolio.' "'Oh, I couldn't bring them all in,' said Jasper. "'I wouldn't show those old things for the world, Polly.' "'Well, bring some of them, too,' she begged while Adela said. "'I should might, and I didn't want to, I'm sure.' So Jasper ran up to his room and pretty soon he came back with his portfolio. "'You did bring it after all,' exclaimed Polly in satisfaction, patting the brown leather cover. "'Oh, how nice of you, Jasper!' As they ran over and ensconced themselves in a cozy corner. "'I took out the worst ones,' said Jasper with a laugh. "'And I'm awfully sorry I didn't leave behind more of the others. "'I hope you brought that woman with the basket of vegetables we saw at the market the other day,' said Polly as he opened the portfolio. "'Do tell me, Jasper, you did bring that, didn't you?' beginning to fumble through the pile. "'Yes, I did, Polly,' said Jasper. "'She's in there all safe and sound.' So for the next hour there was great turning over and comparing of sketches and much talk about vertical lines and graceful curves, and shading and perspective and expression, and dear knows what all, as the three heads bent over the portfolio. So intent were they all that no one heard Grandpapa come in, and he sat there in a farther corner for a good quarter of an hour. At last Polly looked up and saw him. "'Oh, Grandpapa!' she cried flying off from the group and carrying Adela's sketch in her hand. "'Just see what a perfectly beautiful picture of Francie! Adela Gray made it! She dressed splendidly, Grandpapa. Old Mr. King took the little sketch and fairly beamed at it. "'It's very luck! It is excellent!' he declared, caring nothing for its merits as a drawing, but only seeing Francie as she sat with the big Markon baby in her lap on the stubbly bank. "'Isn't it, Grandpapa?' cried Polly, overflowing with happiness. "'And she has given it to me, Grandpapa. Oh, isn't she good?' "'She is indeed,' assented Old Mr. King, just as well pleased as Polly. "'A very good girl indeed. Come here, Adela.' Adela, whose sharp ears had caught most of this dialogue at the other end of the room, although Jasper was keeping a steady fire of talk to drown it if possible, was looking in dismay at him. "'Oh, dear me! I wish they'd stop!' she breathed in distress. "'I thought you said you had no ear,' said Jasper, laughing at her face. "'I can't tell music notes,' she said, "'but I can hear things.' "'Yes, I should think you could,' he said, and then came Old Mr. King's. "'Come here, Adela!' So she had to go across the room shaking every step of the way and stand in front of him. "'I didn't know we had such a good little artist among us,' said Grandpapa, wonderfully well pleased and smiling kindly at her. "'That is nothing,' said Adela, in despair at ever stopping the flow of praise. "'I spoiled it, and I'm going to do Polly a better one.' "'Nothing could be better, my dear,' said Grandpapa landly. "'It is a fine likeness of Franzi.' And then he questioned her as to her training in the art, and what she meant to do in the future, and where she intended to study in all that, getting an immense amount of information so artfully that Adela never for an instant suspected his reason. All the time he was holding the sketch of Franzi in his hand and intently gazing on it most of the time. "'Well,' he said at last, "'I won't keep you young people any longer.' For Jasper had thrown down the portfolio and joined the group. So run back to your own corner. "'Dear me,' polling out his watch, "'it's only twenty minutes to luncheon. How time does fly to be sure. Tomorrow morning remember we are off to Antwerp.' "'Oh, dear, dear,' exclaimed Polly as they ran back and bent over the portfolio again. "'We haven't have seen Amsterdam, Jasper.' "'No, and you wouldn't if you stayed a year,' observed Jasper wisely. "'We must go over to the Rijksmuseum once more,' said Polly. "'Yes. Let us go there directly after luncheon,' proposed Jasper. "'I know what you want to do, Polly. Sit in front of the night watch again.' "'Yes, I do,' said Polly. "'I couldn't go away without seeing that picture once more, Jasper. "'I don't like that night watch,' said Adela. "'It's too dark and too smuddy. I don't see why people like it so much.' "'Well, I do like it very much,' reiterated Polly. "'I know it's dreadfully dark, but the people in front seem to be stepping right out of the shadows and to be alive. It seems to me they are just going to come right up toward me as I sit there.' "'And that, after all, I suppose is the best thing one can say of a picture,' said Jasper. "'And it is always the finest time to look at that picture in the afternoon, you know, so we will go there, Polly, after luncheon.' "'And then Francie will want to see that picture of a woman with the cat, I suppose,' said Polly. "'Dear me, who was it that painted that, Jasper? I never can remember the artist's names.' "'Metsu, was it John—No—Gabriel—Metsu?' answered Jasper, wrinkling his brows. "'Neither can I remember all those fellow's names. Yes, indeed, you'll find Francie won't let us go there without paying respects to her special picture.' "'And then, I suppose, Grandpapa will take us for a last drive in Vondell Park. Oh, what nice times we have had, Jasper King,' exclaimed Polly, leaning back against the sofa and clasping her hands restfully. "'I just love Amsterdam, and I hate to leave it.' "'So you said about the haig, Polly,' observed Jasper, turning to her with a little laugh. "'Well, wasn't it perfectly beautiful?' asked Polly, flying up straight again. "'Just think of that dear house in the wood, Jasper.' "'I know it. You wanted to go there day after day,' laughed Jasper. "'Why, we only went there three times,' said Polly. "'I'm sure, Jasper, and the picture gallery.' "'That is in the Mooritt—Ritt—whatever is the rest of it. Oh, I know,' said Jasper, guilty of interrupting. "'Mooritt's house. That is where the picture gallery is, Polly.' "'Yes, that's it,' echoed Polly. "'It's fine. Paul Potter's bowl is there.' "'Oh, I want to see that picture very much,' exclaimed Adela. "'I've never been to the haig.' "'Well, you'll go perhaps some time,' said Polly, with an uncomfortable feeling that she ought not to enjoy the things that Adela hadn't seen. "'And you are going to Antwerp with us to-morrow anyway,' she added, brightening up. "'Yes,' said Adela. "'Grandmama is really going there. But that's all. For we go straight over to England then, and I shun't see you ever again, Polly Pepper.' She finished gloomily. And that evening Grandpapa sat down by little old Mrs. Gray in the parlor after dinner, and though he began about something as far distant as possible, before long he was talking about Adela and her wonderful talent, and the most surprising thing about it all was, that the little old lady, not intending to do it in the least, nor really comprehending how much she was telling, soon had him informed on all that he had say his heart on learning, how Adela had just been taken from the Paris school, because the little fortune her father had left had somehow shrunk up, and there was no more money to keep her there. "'I can't tell how it is, sir,' she mourned, raising her faded eyes under the widdle's cap to the kind old face above her. "'I thought there was enough to educate my grandchild. It wasn't a big sum, but I supposed it was quite sufficient. But now it appears to be almost gone, and I have only just enough to keep me.' She didn't add that the curate her husband, when he crept into his grave in the English churchyard, had left her nothing but the memory of his good name. Her small means coming as a legacy from some of his grateful friends, they too, long since dead. Old Mr. King made no comment, only passed on with the few little leading remarks when the information seemed to be on the wane, and then he said he thought he would like a game of back gammon, and he challenged the parson to come on and be beaten, and at an early hour the party broke up. "'For remember,' said Grand Papa, for about the fiftieth time that day, "'It's Antwerp to-morrow.' So it was at Antwerp that the whole splendid business was concluded, and when the story of it came out there was a regular jubilee all around, for were not Adela and Adela's grandmother going with the king-party around a bit more on the continent, and then off to Paris again and back to the beloved school, Grand Papa's gift to the girl with the talent to keep it alive. And the little widow, stunned at first by the magnitude of the gift, could do nothing but feebly protest. "'Oh, no, sir!' and put up both shaking hands to ward off the benefaction. "'It's your duty, madam,' said Mr. King sternly, at which she shrank down farther in her chair. "'Who knows what such talent will do in the world? And it's my duty to see that it is kept alive. Nothing more nor less than a question of duty.' He stamped up and down the room vehemently, and the little old lady protesting that she wanted to do her duty. She was sure she always did. The hardest part was over, and old Mr. King chuckled to himself triumphantly. "'And now,' cried Polly, in a transport, when the first surprise was over, and everybody had settled down to the quiet enjoyment of it all, we've really and truly got a celebrated artist all to ourselves, and she drew herself up in pride. "'I'm not celebrated yet,' said Adela, with two little red spots on her cheeks, and with happy eyes on her grandmother. You had better wait till I am.' "'Oh, well, you will be,' said Polly confidently, some time, and then we can say, yes, we knew her when she was a girl, and we'll go to picture galleries the same as we do here, and see your names stuck up in the corners of the very best ones, Adela.' End of Chapter 15, Recording by Xu Shan Chapter 16 of Five Little Peppers Abroad Now Polly and Antwerp, said Jasper, we can see rumours to perfection. We won't just revel in his paintings, though. "'Won't we?' Jackulated Polly. "'Oh, I'm so glad Grandpa came here to this hotel,' she leaned out of the window as she spoke. Under the very ease of the cathedral, almost, isn't it?' said Jasper in satisfaction. The chimes just then peeled out. Indeed, it seemed as if they did nothing but ring. So short were their intervals. Out to Polly and Jasper, they brought only echoes of delight. There are forty of those bells, aren't there?' asked Polly, resting her elbows on the windowsill. "'I believe so,' answered Jasper, absently. Polly looked at him curiously. "'Polly,' he said abruptly. "'Do you know what I mean to do?' No said Polly. Tell me. Do Jasper.' "'Well, I mean to sit right down and finish my book. I'm ashamed to confess that it's not up to date. Neither is mine,' confessed Polly. "'Well, now that won't do,' said Jasper, decidedly. "'You see, if we once let those books get behind hand, we're lost. We never can catch up in all the world. Well, we've had so much to do and to see,' begged Polly. "'That won't be an excuse. That will amount to nothing,' said Jasper, shaking his head. "'Let's fly at them and tackle them now, Polly.' "'I say so too,' she cried, and, deserting the window, they surrounded the center table and soon had the big journals, photographs, and pictures, of every sort and size, the ink bottle, the library pace, scissors, and all the rest of the paraphernalia spread out on it. It's good that Grandpa is lying down and doesn't wish to go out,' remarked Polly, snipping away at a fearful raid, and pausing only to write down the dates and other bits of information around each picture as she pasted in. "'Now we'll have all this morning to finish the books and be up to date, and none too much for the job,' said Jasper, sagely. "'I declare, I shall feel like enjoying myself twice as well, when once they're up to date they've been hanging around my conscience every day, since I slackened work on them. And I'm so glad you made me come away from that window and set to work,' said Polly. "'Or I never would have commenced on mine today.'" "'Oh, yes you would,' I think, Polly,' said Jasper. "'Well, we're at it now, and that's enough.' "'Now,' says I, I'm on book number two.' And he flapped down the cover of the completed one. "'That's done, thank fortune.' "'Oh, Jasper, have you the green one done?' "'Yes, Polly. Why, I have three more pages of mine to do.' "'Well, you'll catch up on the red one,' I daresay,' said Jasper, opening number two. "'We are getting on famously, aren't we, Polly?' glancing over at her work. "'Yes, and I'm so glad you proposed this way to keep a journal,' said Polly. "'To have them labeled, my notes on my European journey, and to have number one green, and number two red, and so on, all through the rest of the colors. "'That will help us to find them in a hurry,' said Jasper, and keep them distinct. "'But I didn't propose it, Polly, about the books. It was your plan as much as mine.' "'No,' Polly was guilty of contradicting. I never should have thought of having the books of different colors and labeling them in that way, Jasper. "'Well, you first thought of cutting out pictures and all sorts of items and then writing the dates and whatever else we wanted to around the pictures,' said Jasper. "'I'm sure that it's more important than the title of the book, Polly.' "'Well, wouldn't the boys love to see them?' asked Polly, suddenly, with a light in her eyes, ignoring the question as to her claim to the idea. "'When we get home, Jasper?' "'Won't they though?' he responded, falling to work with a will, and so Antwerp was entered with clear conscience as to journals and a strict determination not to fall behind again on them. But Polly slipped in so many of the beautiful photographs of the descent from the cross and the other two famous pictures by Rubens that her red book was closed the third day of their stay in the old town of Antwerp, and photographs had even overflowed into the yellow book number three. They had a habit, most of their party, of dropping into the cathedral once a day at least, usually in the morning, and sometimes before service and then when it was quiet and before the ordinary throng of sightseers trailed through. Jasper would hire some chairs of one of the old women who always seemed to be part and parcel of the European cathedrals, and they would sit down before the paintings, its wings spread over the dingy gray background, and study what has made so many countless travelers take long and off times wearisome journeys to see. And Polly always wanted to go after that to see the assumption, which is the altarpiece, and then elevation of the cross, both by Rubens, and I'm sure Grandpa, she would always say, I like them as well as I do the famous paintings, and so do I Polly, in a way. Grandpa Pa would invariably reply, they are all marvelous, and that is all we can say, but no expression could give the truth about them. After the cathedral, which they loved all the more for being perched under its eaves, as Polly always said, when speaking of the hotel that was for the time being their home, Polly and Jasper sat next in their regard, the Musée Plantin Mortesse. They never retired of running down there to the Marché de Venture, until it became a regular question every day at dinner. Well, what more have you discovered at the Musée Plantin? An old Mr. King would often answer, for he was as interested as young people, marvelous things, and then he would expatiate on the antique furniture, the paintings, and gravies, and tapestries, till the little doctor, fresh from his hospital visitations, would remark that it was just as good as if he had time to visit the place to hear grandpa tell it at all. And Adela would bring out her little sketches, which now she was not at first showing, since everybody was so kind and sympathizing, and there would be some little nook or corner or corridor or court that Polly would fall upon and pronounce, Jasper, and how did you get it? Oh, I just draw a bit now and then when you were looking at things, said Adela, carelessly, everything just dances off your pencil, said Polly, wishing she could draw, and wondering if it was any use for her to try to learn. And every afternoon they would go to drive as usual, very often around the docks, which gave them all a good idea of this wonderful port. They were never tired of watching the hydraulic cranes, or inspecting the dry docks, or the interwining railroads by which all the docks, large and small, are connected. And the two basins, La Petite and La Grande Besson, dear me, explain Jasper on one of those occasions. I thought Amsterdam docks were huge affairs, but Antwerp, and he left his sentence in midair, which was more impressive after all. But Parson Henderson liked the Church of Saint-Jacques because of all things in Antwerp, and he used to steal away mornings to go there again and again. And he asked Polly and Jasper to go there with him one day, and Polly begged to have Adela go too, and they all came home as enthusiastic as he was. And then suddenly Mr. King would wrench them all off from this delightful study, and put his foot down preemptorily. No more cathedrals for a time, he would declare. My old head cannot carry any more just yet, and he would propose a little inletting of fun. And then off they would go, shopping, or to the zoological gardens. And they always had concerts, of course, wherever they were, for Polly and Jasper's sake, if for no other reason. By and by, somebody announced one fine morning that they had been in Antwerp a fortnight. And then one day Mother Fisher looked into Polly's brown eyes and, finding them tired, she calmly took Polly quietly in bed. Why, Mamsi declared Polly, I'm not sick. No, and I'm not going to have you be, observed Mrs. Fisher sensibly. This running about sighting is more tiresome child than you think for, and dreadfully unsettling unless you've stopped a rest a bit. No Jasper, as he knocked at the door, Polly can go out today. At least not this morning, I put her to bed. Is Polly sick, Mrs. Fisher, called Jasper, in great concern? No, no, not a bit, answered Mrs. Fisher, cheerfully. But she's tired, I've seen it coming on for two or three days back, so I'm going to take it in time. And can't she come out today, asked Jasper, dreadfully disappointed, with a mind full of the host of fine things that they had planned to do. No Jasper said Mother Fisher, firmly, not to jaunty about. So Jasper took himself off, feeling sure, despite his disappointment, that Polly's mother was right. And there was another person who wholly agreed with Mother Fisher, and that was old Mr. King. If you can stop those young folks from killing themselves or running about to see everything, you'll done more than I can, Mrs. Fisher, he observed. It makes no difference how long I plan to stay in a town, so as to do it restfully, if they won't rest, that is a fact, said Mother Fisher. Well, that's my part to see that they do rest. I don't envy you, the job, said the old gentleman, dryly. Polly fidgeted and turned on her pillow. Knowing Mamsey was right, but unable to keep from thinking of the many beautiful plans that Jasper and she had formed with that very morning, till her head spun round and round. I can't get to sleep, she said at last. Don't try to, said her mother, dropping the heavy wool curtains, till the room was quite dark. That's the worst thing in the world to do. If you want to rest, just lie still and don't try to think of anything. But I can't help thinking, said poor Polly, feeling sure that Jasper was dreadfully disappointed at the upsetting of all the plans. Never say you can't help anything, Polly, said her mother. Coming over to her bedside to lay a cool hand on Polly's hot forehead and then to drop a kiss there. And somehow the kiss did what all Polly's trying had failed to accomplish. That's good Mamsey, she said gravely, and drew a long restful breath. Mother Fisher went out and closed the door softly. It was just three o'clock that afternoon when Polly woke up. Oh, I'm dreadfully ashamed, she explained when she found it out. I slept almost the whole day. Mother Fisher smiled. And it's the best day's work you've done in a long while, Polly, she said. And here's my girl Polly, cried grandpa Polly when she ran down to him and holding her at arm's length. He gazed into her bright eyes and on her rosy cheeks. Well, well, your mother's a clever woman and no mistake. So Polly knew if she didn't take care and not get tired again she would be tucked into bed another fine day. It was a long summer morning and they were sailing up the Rhine with the delights of Russell's and Cologne behind them and in between the covers of the purple book number four Polly had been looking at ruined castles and fortresses and vying clad terraces and chalets until she turned to grandpa Polly with a sigh. Tired Polly, little woman, he said, cuddling her up against him. No, not tired grandpa Polly, said Polly, but oh, there's so very much of it over here in Europe. If you found that out, then you've learned the lesson early, said old Mr. King with a laugh. As many times as I've been over here, there's nothing that surprises me so much as the presumption with which we travelers all brush about affecting to encompass all there is. But we ought to see everything, said Polly. Aren't we, grandpa Polly, when we come so far to see it? And she looked troubled. There's just where you are wrong, Polly child, said old Mr. King, and there's ought to see why it's an old dragon, Polly, lying in wait to destroy. Don't let it get ahold of you, but take my advice and see only what you can make your own and remember. Then you've got it. End of Chapter 16, recording by Kenneth Sargent Gagan, Auburn, California. Chapter 17 of Five Little Peppers Abroad. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Cheryl Martin. Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 17. Polly wrote a nice little note. Polly, said Jasper, running down the stairs after her, on her way to the little garden on the terrace at Heidelberg. Here's something for you. Just came in the mail. For me, said Polly, as he put a little parcel in her hand. Yes, said Jasper. Father just gave it to me. What can it be? cried Polly, wonderingly. Oh, something from Alexia, or one of the other girls most likely, and she tore off the outer wrapper. It is registered, said Jasper, and Mr. Henderson got it out for you, Father said. That can't be from one of the girls, Polly. As the next layer of paper dropping off disclosed the name of one of the biggest of big London jewelers across a wooden box. What can it be? Gassed Polly tugging at the cover. Here, let me. Jasper essay to open it, but it stuck fast in the slide. Another pull and a little red leather case appeared in view. What in the world? began Polly. Oh, it can't be from me. And she stood staring at it, without any attempt to take it out. It must be for you, Polly, said Jasper. There couldn't be any other Miss Mary Pepper, and besides, it is addressed to Father's care, and comes through our bankers. See here? He stooped and picked up the outer wrapper. It was torn almost in two, but the name and address was all there. So Polly lifted out the little red leather case, still feeling very much as if she were opening a parcel belonging to someone else, and touching a spring at the end, the top flew up, and there, on a white satin bed, lay a little green enameled watch set with diamonds. Oh, dear me, exclaimed Polly, tumbling back in the utmost distress. Now, I have got someone else's box, Jasper. How very dreadful! Let us go to Father, said Jasper, feeling this quite beyond him. Shut the box up tight, Polly. It might tumble out on the way. You carry it, do Jasper, baked Polly, with an eye a-scance at the little case, and snapping the cover down, she said it in his hand. All right now, then, said Jasper. We must carry these papers and wooden box and the whole business. Don't worry, Polly, seeing her face. Father will straighten it out. Give me the wrapper, Jasper, and the wooden box, if only you'll take the other, said Polly, feeling very much depressed at coming into possession of other people's property. And Jasper followed with the little enameled watch. And Grandpapa was just as much astounded as was Polly herself, and all the family congregating in Mother Fisher's room, the little watch was handed about from one to the other, and everybody stared at everybody else, and the mystery thickened every moment. And the strangest thing about it was that no one opened the little back cover where anyone might have read. Polly Pepper, from her grateful friend, Arthur Selwyn. Until the middle of the night, when Jasper was awakened by a noise as if someone were prowling around in his father's room, he started up and listened. It's I, said old Mr. King's voice, so Jasper threw on his wrapper and hurried in. There sat his father, in dressing gown and slippers, by the table with the little enameled watch in his hand. Of all the idiots, Jasper, he exclaimed, your father is the very worst. I've only just this moment thought to look in here. He flashed the little watch around in Jasper's face. It was now opened at the back. Dear me, cried Jasper, for want of anything better to say, as he read the inscription. Then he looked helplessly at his father. Earl or no Earl, this piece of foolishness goes back, fumed old Mr. King, getting out of his chair and beginning to march back and forth across the floor, as he always did when irritated. Yes, sir, the very first thing in the morning, he repeated, as vehemently as if Jasper had contradicted him. But father began the boy. Yes, sir, it goes back, I tell you, repeated his father, now well wrought up to a passion. What right has he to send such a piece of foolishness to my Polly Pepper? I can give her all the watches she needs, and this trumpery, pointing to the jeweled gift, still lying in Jasper's hand, is utterly unfit for a schoolgirl. You know that yourself, Jasper. But Polly was kind to him, began Jasper again. Kind to him, snorted his father. Don't I know that? Of course she was. Polly Pepper would be kind to anyone, but that's no reason why the old idiot should presume to give her such a silly and expensive present as that. The man doesn't know anything who would do such a thing. And this one is queerer than the average. As you say, he is eccentric, observed Jasper, seeing here a loophole by which to get an as soothing word. Eccentric! That's a mild way to put it, fumed his father. He's odder than Dick's hat-band. Heaven save old England if many of her earls are like him. Well, I shall just write the fellow a decent sort of a note, and then I'll pack the box off to him, and that'll be the end of the matter. I'm afraid Polly will be sorry, said Jasper, feeling at a standstill so far as finding the right word was concerned, for everything he uttered only seemed to make matters worse. So he said the best thing he could think of and stop short. Sorry! Old Mr. King came to a dead stop and glared at him. You can't mean that Polly Pepp would like me to keep that watch. It's the last thing on earth that she would want, such a goo-gaw as that. Why, the child hates the sight of it already as much as I do. I don't think Polly would want the watch, said Jasper quickly. I know she doesn't like it, and I'm sure I wish I could smash it myself, he added in a burst. That's the most sensible thing you've said yet, Jasper, said his father, with a grim smile. But she would feel dreadfully for you to send it back, for don't you see, father, that would hurt his feelings, and Polly would worry awfully to have that happen. Old Mr. King turned uneasily, took a few steps, then came back to throw himself into his chair again. And this old gentleman has such ill attacks, said Jasper, pursuing his advantage, that it might be the very thing to bring one on if you should get that watch back. Say no more, say no more, Jasper, said his father, shortly. Put this thing up for tonight, and then get back to bed again. And Jasper knew that was the end of it. And the next day Polly wrote a nice little note, thanking the old Earl for his gift, and hoping that he was quite well. And with so many other pleasant things in it, that if she could have seen him when he received it, she would have been glad indeed. And then she handed the little red leather case to Mr. King. Keep it for me, grand-papa, she said simply. All right, Polly, my child, he said. And then everybody forgot all about the episode, and proceeded to enjoy Heidelberg. I am so sorry for people who are not going to be Ruth Adela, exclaimed Polly, looking out of the compartment window as the train steamed rapidly on from Nuremberg, where they had passed several days of delight, reveling in the old town. Adela, with her mind more on those past delights, had less attention for thoughts of music, so she answered absently. Yes, oh Polly, wasn't that pentagonal tower fine? What is it they call it in German? But Polly didn't hear, being absorbed in the Wagner festival of which her mind was full, so Jasper answered for her. Alt-Nuremberg, you mean? The oldest building of all Nuremberg. Yes, said Adela. Well, I got two or three sketches of that tower. Did you? cried Jasper. Now that's good. And I got that horrible old robber knight, what's his name? Sitting inside his cell, you know. Epiline von Gallingen, supplied Jasper. Well, he was a horrible looking customer, and that's a fact. Oh, I liked him, said Adela, who rejoiced in ugly things, if only picturesque. And I got into one corner of the cell opposite him, so as to sketch it all as well as I could in such a dark place, and a lady came down the little stairs. You remember them? I rather think I do, said Jasper Grimly. I was trying to get out of the way of a huge party of tourists, and I nearly broke my neck. Well, this lady came down the stairs. I could see her where I sat, but she couldn't see me. It was so dark in the cell. And she called to her husband. I guess he was her husband, because he looked so… Triste. Adela often fell into French, from being so long at the Paris school, and not from affectation in the least. And she said, Come Henry, let us see what is in there. And she took one step in, and peered into that robber knight's face. You know how he is sitting on a little stool, his block hair all round his face, staring at one? Yes, I do, said Jasper. He was uncanny enough, and in the darkness his wax features, or whatever they were made of, were unpleasantly natural to the last degree. Well, said Adela, the lady gave a little squeal and tumbled right back into her husband's arms. And I guess she stepped on his toes, for he squealed too, though in a different way, and he gave her a little push and told her not to be a goose, that the man had been dead a thousand years more or less, and couldn't hurt her. So then she stepped back, awfully scared though, I could see that. And then she caught sight of me, and she squealed again and jumped. And she screamed right out, Oh, there's another in there, in the corner, and it glared at me. And I didn't glare at all, finished Adela in disdain. And then I guess he was scared too, for he said, That old cell isn't worth seeing anyway, and I'm going down into the torture chamber, and they hurried off. That torture chamber, exclaimed Jasper, how anyone can hang over those things I don't see, for my part I'd rather have my time somewhere else. Oh, I like them, said Adela, in great satisfaction, and I've got a picture of the Iron Virgin. That was a good idea, to put the old scold into that wooden tub concern, said Jasper. There was some sense in that. I took a picture of it, and the old tower itself. I got a splendid photograph of it, if it will only develop well, he added. Oh, but the buildings. Was ever anything so fine as those old Nuremberg houses, with their high peak gables? I have quantities of them, thanks to my Kodak. What's this station, I wonder, asked Polly, as the train slowed up. Two ladies on the platform made a sudden dash at their compartment. All full, said the guard, waving them off. That was Fanny Vandenberg, gasped Polly. And her mother added Jasper. Who was it, demanded old Mr. King. His consternation, when they told him, was so great that Jasper wrecked his brain some way to avoid the meeting. If once we were at Beiruth, it's possible that we might not come across them, father, for we could easily be lost in the crowd. No such good luck, groaned old Mr. King, which was proved true, for the first persons who walked into the hotel, as the manager was giving directions that the rooms reserved for their party should be shown them, were Mrs. Vandenberg and her daughter. Oh, exclaimed Mrs. Vandenberg, as if her dearest friends were before her. How glad I am to see you again, dear Mr. King and you all. She swept Mrs. Fisher and Mrs. Henderson lightly in her glance, as if toleration only were to be observed toward them. We have been perfectly desolate without you, Polly, my dear, she went on, with a charming smile. Fanny will be happy once more. She has been disconsolate ever since we parted, I assure you. Polly made some sort of a reply and greeted Fanny as of old times on the steamer. But Mrs. Vandenberg went on, all smiles and eagerness, so rapidly in her friendly intentions, that it boated ill for the future peace of Mr. King's party. So Mr. King broke into the torrent of words at once, without any more scruple. And now, Mrs. Vandenberg, if you will excuse us, we are quite tired and are going to our rooms. And he bowed himself off, and of course his family followed. The next moment, Fanny and her mother were alone. If this is to be the way, said Mrs. Vandenberg, with a savage little laugh, we might much better have stayed in Paris, for I never should have thought, as you know, Fanny, of coming to this out-of-the-way place, seeing that I don't care for the music, if I hadn't heard them say on the steamer that this was their date here. Well, I wished that I was at home, declared Fanny, passionately, and I never, never will come to Europe, Mama, again, as long as I live. You are always chasing after people who run away from you, and those who like me, you won't let me speak to. Well, I shall be thankful for the day when you are once in society, said her mother, every shred of self-control now gone, and I shall sell my tickets for this old Wagner Festival and go back to Paris tomorrow morning. At that Fanny broke into a dismal fit of complaining, which continued all the time they were dressing for dinner, and getting settled in their room, and then at intervals through that meal. Polly looked over at her gloomy face, three tables off, and her own fell. You are not eating anything, child, said Grandpa Pa presently, with a keen glance at her. Let me order something more. Oh, no, Grandpa Pa, and yes, I will, she cried incoherently, making a great effort to enjoy the nice things he piled on her plate. Jasper followed her glance as it rested on the Vandenberg table. They will spoil everything, he thought, and to think it should happen at Beyruth. Yes, we are going, said Fanny Vandenberg as they met after dinner in the corridor. Her eyes were swollen, and she twisted her handkerchief in her fingers. And I did, did, did. Here she broke down and sob, so want to hear the Wagner operas. Don't cry, begged Polly, quite shocked. Oh, Fanny, why can't you stay? How very dreadful to lose the Wagner music. Polly could think of no worse calamity that could be Fall One. Mama doesn't know anybody here except your party, mumbled Fanny, and she's upset, and declares that we must go back to Paris tomorrow. Oh, Polly, Pepper, I hate Paris. She exploded, and then sobbed worse than ever. Wait here, said Polly, till I come back. Then she ran on light feet to Grandpa Pa, just settling behind a newspaper in a corner of the general reading room. Grandpa Pa, dear, may I speak to you a minute? Asked Polly with a woeful feeling at her heart. It seemed as if he must hear it beating. Why, yes, child, to be sure, said Mr. King, quite surprised at her manner. What is it? And he laid aside his paper and smiled reassuringly. But Polly's heart sank worse than ever. Grandpa Pa, she began desperately. Fanny Vanderberg is feeling dreadfully. And I should think she would with such a mother, exclaimed the old gentleman, but in a guarded tone. Well, what of it, Polly? Grandpa Pa, said Polly, she says her mother is going to take her back to Paris tomorrow morning. How very fine, exclaimed Mr. King approvingly. That is the best thing I have heard yet. Always bring me such good news, Polly, and I will lay down my newspapers willingly any time. And he gave a pleased little laugh. But Grandpa Pa, and Polly's face drooped, and there was such a sad little note in her voice that the laugh dropped out of his. Fanny wanted above all things to hear the Wagner operas. Just think of losing those. Polly clasped her hands, and every bit of color flew from her cheek. Well, what can I do about it? asked the old gentleman, in a great state of perturbation. Speak out, child, and tell me what you want. Only if I can be pleasant to Fanny, said Polly, a wave of color rushing over her face. I mean, if I may go with her. Can I, Grandpa Pa, this very evening, just as if— She hesitated. As if what, Polly? As if we all like them, finished Polly, feeling as if the words must be said. There was an awful pause in which Polly had all she could do to keep from rushing from the room. Then Grandpa Pa said, If you can stand it, Polly, you may do as you like, but I warn you to keep them away from me. And he went back to his paper. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Jasper turned around to gaze at the vast audience filing into the Wagner Opera House before he took his seat. This makes me think of Oberammergau, Polly, he said. To think you've seen the passion play, she cried, with glowing cheeks. That was when I was such a little chap, said Jasper, ages ago. Nine years, Polly Pepper. Just think. So it'll be as good as new next year. Father is thinking a good deal of taking you there next summer. Jasper, cried Polly, her cheeks all in a glow and regardless of next neighbors. What can I ever do to repay your father for being so very good to me and to all of us? Why, you can keep on making him comfortable, just as you are doing now, Polly, replied Jasper. He said yesterday it made him grow younger every minute to look at you, and you know he's never sick now, and he was always having those bad attacks. Don't you remember when we first came to Hingham Polly, as they took their seats? Oh, dear me, I guess I do, Jasper, and how you saved Franzi from being carried off by the big organ man. And she shivered even now at this lapse of years. And all the splendid times at Badger Town and the Little Brown, just then a long hand came in between the people in the seat back of them. I'm no end glad to see you, exclaimed the voice, it was Tom Selwyn. I'm going over into that vacant seat. Tom forgot his fear of Polly and his hatred of girls generally and rushed around the aisle to plunge awkwardly into the seat just back of Jasper. I'll stay here till the person comes. His long arms came in contact with several obstacles, such as sundry backs and shoulders in his progress, but he had no time to consider such small things or to notice the black looks he got in consequence. Now, isn't this Jolly, he exclaimed? Jasper was guilty of staring at him. There seemed such a change in the boy, he could hardly believe it was really and truly Tom Selwyn. My grandfather is well now, and he would have sent some message to you if he knew I was to run across you, went on Tom, looking at Jasper, but meeting Polly. Did you get a little trifle he sent you some weeks ago? He's been in a funk about it because he didn't hear. Wasn't Polly glad that her little note was on the way, and perhaps in the old gentleman's hands at this very time? Yes, she said, and he was very kind, and Tom fumbled his tickets all the while and broke in abruptly. I didn't know as you'd like it, but it made him sick not to do it, and so the thing went. Glad it didn't make you mad, he ended suddenly. He meant it all right, I'm sure, said Jasper, seeing that Polly couldn't speak. Did he, though, exclaimed Tom? And it didn't come till the day we left Heidelberg, said Polly, finding her tongue and speaking rapidly to explain the delay. That was a week ago. Whistle, Tom. Oh, bake pardon, for several people turned around and stared, so he ducked his head and was mostly lost to view for a breathing space. When he thought they had forgotten him, he bobbed it up. Why, grandfather picked it out, had a bushel of things sent up from London to choose from, you know, weeks and weeks ago, as soon as he got up to London. That's no end queer. No, said Polly, it didn't come till then, and I wrote to your grandfather the next morning and thanked him. Now you did, exclaimed Tom, in huge delight, and slapping his knee with one long hand. That's no end good of you. He couldn't conceal how glad he was and grinned all over his face. At this moment Mrs. Vanderberg, who, seeing Fanny so happy again, concluded to stay on the strength of resurrected hopes of Polly Pepper's friendship, sailed into the opera house with her daughter, and glancing across the aisle, for their seats were at the side, she caught sight of the party she was looking for, and there was a face she knew, but wasn't looking for. Fanny, she cried, clutching her arm. There is Tom Selwyn. Well, now we are in luck. And Tom saw her, and again he ducked, but for a different reason. When he raised his head he glanced cautiously in the direction he dreaded. There's that horrible person, he whispered in Jasper's ear. Who asked Jasper, in astonishment? That woman on the steamer, you knew her, and she was looking straight at us. Duck for your life, Jasper King. Oh, that, said Jasper Cooley, following the bob of his head. He asked Mrs. Vanderberg, I know, and she is at our hotel. The dickens, and you're alive? Tom raised his head and regarded him as a curiosity. Very much so, answered Jasper, smothering a laugh. Well, we mustn't talk any more. Polly was sitting straight, her hands folded in her lap, with no thought for audience or anything but what she was to see and hear on that wonderful stage. Old Mr. King leaned past Parson Henderson, and gazed with the greatest satisfaction at her absorbed face. I pity anybody, he said to himself, who hasn't some little peppers to take about. I only wish I had the boys, too, but fancy Joel listening to Parsifal. This idea completely overcame him, and he settled back into his seat with a grim smile. Polly never knew that Mamzy, with a happy look in her black eyes, was regarding her intently, too, nor that many a glance was given to the young girl whose color came and went in her cheek, nor that Jasper sometimes spoke a low word or two. She was lost in the entrancing world of mystery and legend, born upward by the grand music, and she scarcely moved. Well, Polly, old Mr. King was smiling at her and holding out his hand, the curtains had closed for the intermission, and all the people were getting out of their chairs. Polly sat still and drew a long breath. Oh, Grandpa Pah, must we go? Yes, indeed, I hope so, answered Mr. King with a little laugh. We shall have none too much time for our supper, Polly, as it is. Polly got out of her seat, very much wishing that supper was not one of the needful things of life. It almost seems wicked to think of eating Jasper, she said, as they picked up their hats and capes, where he had tucked them under the seats. It would be more wicked not to eat, said Jasper with a little laugh, and I think you'll find some supper tastes good when we get fairly at it, Polly. I suppose so, said Polly, feeling dreadfully stiff in her feet, and beginning to wish she could have a good run. And what we should do with you if we didn't stop for supper, observed Jasper, snapping the case to the opera glasses. I'm sure I don't know, Polly. I spoke to you three times, and you didn't hear me once. Oh, Jasper exclaimed Polly in horror, pausing as she was pinning on her big flowered hat with the roses all around the brim. Oh, dear me, there it goes, as the hat spun over into the next row. I'll get it, cried Tom Selwyn, waltzing over the tops of the seats before Jasper had a chance to try for it. Just then, Mrs. Vandenberg, who hadn't heard any more of the opera than could fit itself into her lively plans for the campaign she laid out to accomplish in siege of Tom Selwyn, pushed an elbowed herself along. Of course the Earl isn't here, and the boy is alone and dreadfully taken with Jasper King, so I can manage him, and once getting him I'll soon have the Earl to recognize me as a relation. Then, oh, visions of the golden dream of bliss when she could visit such titled kin in Old England, and report it all when at home in New York filled her head. And with her mind eaten up with it, she pushed rudely by a plain, somewhat dowdy-looking woman who obstructed her way. The woman raised a quiet yet protesting face, but Mrs. Vandenberg, related to an Earl, surveyed her haughtily and pressed on. Excuse me, said the plain-looking woman, but it is impossible for me to move. The people are coming out this way, madam, and I must get by, answered Mrs. Vandenberg, interrupting and wriggling past as well as she could. But the lace on her flowing sleeve, catching on the umbrella handle of a stout German coming the other way, she tore it half across. A dark flush of anger rushed over her face, and she vented all her spite on the plain-looking person in her path. If you had moved, this wouldn't have happened, she exclaimed. It was impossible for me to do so, replied the woman, just as quietly as ever. Just then Tom Selwyn rushed up. Mother to the plain-looking woman? Well, we did get separated. Oh, and seeing her companion, he plunged back. Fanny Vandenberg, well in the rear, a party of young German girls impeding the way, felt her mother's grasp and looked around. Oh, you've torn your lace sleeve, she exclaimed, supposing the black looks referred to that accident. Torn my sleeve, echoed her mother irately, that's a trifle. While Fanny stared in surprise, knowing by past experience, that much lesser accidents had made black days for her, I'm the unluckiest person alive, and think of all the money your father has given me to spend, and it won't do any good. Fanny, I'm going straight back to Paris as quickly as possible. Why, I'm having a good time now, said Fanny, just beginning to enjoy herself. Polly Pepper is real nice to me. I don't want to go home a bit. All this as they slowly filed out in the throng. Well, you're going, and oh, those peppers and those kings, I'm sick to death of their names, muttered her mother, frowning on her. Why can't we wait for Polly, asked Fanny, not catching the last words, and pausing to look back. Because you can't, that's why, and never say a word about that Polly Pepper or any of the rest of that crowd, commanded her mother, trying to hurry on. Polly Pepper is the sweetest girl, the very dearest, declared Fanny, in a passion over her mother's shoulder, and you know it, mama. Well, I won't have you going with her anyway, nor with any of them, answered her mother, shortly. Because you can't, echoed Fanny in her turn, and with a malicious little laugh. Don't I know? It's the same old story, those you chase after, run away from you. You've been chasing, mama, you didn't tell me. Oh, Jasper, Polly was saying, did you really speak to me? Three times, said Jasper with a laugh, but you couldn't answer, for you didn't hear me. No, said Polly, I didn't, Jasper. And I shouldn't have spoken, for it isn't, of course, allowed, but I couldn't help it, Polly, it was so splendid, and his eyes kindled, and you didn't seem to breathe or to move. I don't feel as if I had done much of either, said Polly, laughing. Isn't it good to take a long stretch, and oh, don't you wish we could run, Jasper? He burst into another gay little laugh as he picked up the rest of the things. I thought so, Polly, and you'll want some supper yet. Well, here is Tom coming back again. Indeed, I shall, and a big one, Jasper, said Polly, laughing, for I am dreadfully hungry. Come to supper with us, Jasper said socially, over the backs of several people, in response to Tom Selwyn's furious telegraphing. Can't, said Tom, bobbing his head, must stay with my mother, thought you never would turn around. Jasper looked his surprise, and involuntarily glanced by Tom. Yes, my mother's here, we've got separated. She's gone ahead, said Tom, jerking his head toward the nearest exit. She says we'll go and see you. Where? Hotel Zone, said Jasper. Tom disappeared, rushed off to his mother to jerk himself away to a convenient waiting place, till the disagreeable woman on the steamer had melted into space. Then he flew back, and in incoherent sentences made Mrs. Selwyn comprehend who she was and the whole situation. The Earl's daughter was a true British matron, and preserved a quiet, immovable countenance. Only a grim smile passed over it now and then. At last she remarked coolly, as if commenting on the weather. I don't believe she will trouble you, my son. Never a word about the lace episode or the crowding process. Tom sniffed uneasily. You haven't crossed on a steamer with her mother. Never you mind. Mrs. Selwyn gave him a pat on the back. Tom, let us talk about those nice people, as they filed slowly out with the crowd. Not a word did Tom lisp about the invitation to supper, but tucked his mother's arm loyally within his own. Sorry, I forgot to engage a table, he exclaimed, as they entered the restaurant. Why, there is Tom, exclaimed Jasper, craning his neck as his party were about to sit down. Father, Tom Selwyn is here with his mother, and they can't find places, I almost know, and we might have two more chairs easily at our table. He hurried it all out. What is all this about? demanded old Mr. King. Whom are you talking about? Pray tell, Jasper. So Jasper ran around to his father's chair and explained. The end of it all was that he soon hurried off, being introduced to Tom's mother, to whom he presented his father's compliments, and what she'd do him the favor to join their party. And in ten minutes, everyone felt well acquainted with the English matron, and entirely forgot that she was an Earl's daughter. And Tom acquitted himself well, and got on famously with old Mr. King. But he didn't dare talk to Polly, but edged away whenever there was the least chance of matters falling out to that he would have to. And then it came out that the Selwyns thought of going to Munich and down to Lucerne. And the Bernie's Alps put in Jasper across the table. How is that, Tom, for an outing? Can't you do it? For it transpired that Mrs. Selwyn had left the other children, two girls and two smaller boys, with their grandfather on the English estate. They all called this place home since the father was in a business in Australia that required many long visits, and Tom's mother had decided that he should have a bit of a vacation with her, so they had packed up and off, taking in the Wagner Festival first, and here they were. Yes, after she considered a bit, we can do that. Join the party and then over to Lucerne, and perhaps take in the Bernie's Alps. Only supposing that Polly's letter hadn't gone to the little old Earl, Jasper kept saying over and over to himself, just for one minute, suppose it. And in the midst of it all, the horn sounded. The intermission was over, chairs were pushed back hastily, and all flocked off. No one must be late, and there must be no noisy or bustling entrances into the opera house. And if Polly Pepper sat entranced through the rest of the matchless performance, Tom Selwyn, three seats back and off to the left, was just as quietly happy. But he wasn't thinking so much of Parsifal as might have been possible. It's no end fine of the little mother to say yes. He kept running over and over to himself with a satisfied glance at the quiet face under the plain English bonnet. It's funny we don't see Fanny Vandenberg anywhere, said Polly, as they went through the corridor and up the hotel stairs that night. She and her mother probably came home earlier, said Mrs. Fisher. You know we were delayed, waiting for our carriages. You will see her in the morning, Polly. But in the morning it was ten o'clock before Mr. King's party gathered for breakfast, for Grandpa Pa always counseled sleeping late when out the night before. And when Polly did slip into her chair, there was a little note lying on her plate. Fanny Vandenberg has gone, she said, and turned quite pale. It was too true. Mrs. Vandenberg had sold her two tickets to the flying Dutchman to be presented that evening, and departed from Beirut. It's no use, Polly, Fanny's note ran, trying to make me have a good time. Mama says we are to go back to Paris, and go we must. You've been lovely, and I thank you ever so much, and goodbye. Mother Fisher found Polly a half hour later curled up in a corner of the old sofa in her room, her face pressed into the cushion. Why, Polly exclaimed her mother, seeing the shaking shoulders and bending over her, she smoothed the brown hair gently. This isn't right, child. Polly sprang up suddenly and threw her arms around her mother's neck. Her face was wet with tears, and she sobbed out, Oh, if I'd done more for her, Mamsie, or been pleasant to Mrs. Vandenberg, she might have stayed. You haven't any call to worry, Polly Child, said Mother Fisher firmly. You did all that could be done, and remember one thing, it's very wrong to trouble others, as you certainly will, if you give way to your feelings in this manner. Mamsie exclaimed Polly, suddenly wiping away the trail of tears from her cheek. I won't cry a single bit more. You can trust me, Mamsie, I truly won't. Trust you, said Mother Fisher, with her proud look in her black eyes. I can trust you ever and always, Polly. And now run to Mr. King and let him see a bright face, for he's worrying about you, Polly. Chapter 19 Mr. King has a little plan for Polly. Jasper exclaimed Polly, clasping her hands. Do you suppose we'll ever get to a piano, where it's all alone, and nobody wants to play on it? But just you and I finish Jasper. I declare I don't know. You see, we don't stay still long enough in any one place to hire a decent one. And besides, Father said, when we started, that it was better for us to rest and travel about without any practicing this summer. You know he did, Polly. I know it, said Polly. But oh, if we could just play once in a while, she added mournfully. Well, we can't, said Jasper savagely. You know we tried that at Brussels, when we thought everybody had gone off. And those half a dozen idiots came and stared at us through the glass door. And then they came in, added Polly, with a little shiver at the recollection. But that big fat man with the black beard was the worst Jasper. She glanced around as if she expected to see him coming down the long parlor. Well, he didn't hear much. There didn't any of them, said Jasper. That's some small satisfaction, because you hopped off the piano stool and ran away. You ran just as fast, I'm sure, Jasper, said Polly with a little laugh. Well, perhaps I did, confessed Jasper, bursting into a laugh. Who wouldn't run with a lot of staring idiots flying at one, he brought up in disgust. And we forgot the music went on Polly deep in the reminiscence. And we wouldn't go back, don't you remember, until the big fat man with the dreadful black beard had gone, for he'd picked it up and been looking at it. Yes, I remember all about it, said Jasper. Dear me, what a time we had. It's enough to make one wish that the summer was all over and that we were fairly settled in Dresden. He added gloomily, as he saw her face. Oh, no, exclaimed Polly quickly, and quite shocked to see the mischief that she had done. We wouldn't have the beautiful summer go a bit faster, Jasper. Why, that would be too dreadful to think of. But you want to get at your music, Polly. I'll fly at it when the time comes, cried Polly, with a wise little nod. Never you fear, Jasper. Now come on, let's get fronzy and go out and see the shops. Old Mr. King, in a nook behind the curtain, dropped the newspaper in his lap and thought a bit. Best to wait till we get to Lucerne, he said to himself, nodding his white head. Then says I, Polly, my child, you shall have your piano. And when their party were settling down in the hotel at Lucerne, ending the beautiful days of travel after leaving Munich, Jasper's father called him abruptly. See here, my boy. What is it, Father? asked Jasper, wonderingly. The luggage is all right. It's gone up to the rooms. All except the portmanteau, and Francis will go down to the station and straighten that out. I'm not in the least troubled in regard to the luggage, Jasper, replied his father, Testilly. It's something much more important than the luggage question about which I wish to speak to you. Jasper stared, well-knowing his father's views in regard to the luggage question. The first thing that you must unpack, the very first, old Mr. King was saying, is your music. Don't wait a minute, Jasper, but go and get it. And then call Polly. And why, Father, exclaimed Jasper, there isn't a single place to play in. You don't know how people stare if we touch the piano. We can't hear, Father. There's such a crowd in this hotel. You do just as I say, Jasper, commanded his father, and tell Polly to get her music, and then do you two go to the little room out of the big parlor and play to your heart's content. And he burst into a hearty laugh at Jasper's face, as he dangled a key at the end of a string before him. Now do I believe, Father, that you've got Polly a piano and a little room to play in, cried Jasper joyfully, and pouncing on the key. You go along and do as I tell you, said Mr. King, mightily pleased at the success of his little plan. And don't you tell Polly Pepper one word until she has taken her music down in the little room, as Jasper bound it off on the wings of the wind. And in that very hotel was the big fat man with the dreadful black beard, resting after a long season of hard work. But Polly and Jasper wouldn't have cared had they known it, as long as they had their own delightful little music room to themselves, as they played over and over all the dear old pieces, and Polly reveled in everything that she was so afraid she had forgotten. I really haven't lost it, Jasper, she would exclaim radiantly, after finishing a concerto and dropping her hands idly on the keys. And I was so afraid I'd forgotten it entirely, just think I haven't played that for three months, Jasper King. Well, you haven't forgotten a bit of it, declared Jasper, just as glad as she was. You didn't make any mistakes, hardly Polly. Oh yes, I made some, said Polly honestly, whirling around on the piano's stool to look at him. Oh well, only little bits of one, said Jasper. Those don't signify. I wish Father could have heard that concerto. What a pity he went out just before you began it. But somebody else on the other side of the partition between the little music room and the big parlor had heard, and he pulled his black beard thoughtfully with his long fingers, then pricked up his ears to hear more. And it was funny how almost every day, whenever the first notes on the piano struck up in Mr. King's little music room, the big fat man who was so tired with his season of hard work never seemed to think that he could rest as well as in that particular corner up against that partition. And no matter what book or paper he had in his hand, he always dropped it and fell to pulling his black beard with his long fingers before the music was finished. And then, oh Polly, come child, you have played long enough, from Mother Fisher on the other side of the partition. Or old Mr. King would say, no more practicing today, Ms. Polly. Or Franzi would pipe out, Polly, Grandpa Pa is going to take us out on the lake. Do come, Polly. And then it was funnier yet to see how suddenly the big fat man with the dreadful black beard seemed to find that particular corner by that partition a very tiresome place. And as the piano clicked down its cover, he would yawn and get up and say something in very rapid German to himself. And off he would go, forgetting all about his book or newspaper, which very likely would tumble to the floor and flap away by itself till somebody came and picked it up and set it on the sofa. One morning, old Mr. King, hurrying along with his batch of English mail to enjoy opening it in the little music room where Jasper and Polly were playing a duet, ran up suddenly against a fat, heavy body coming around an opposite angle. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir, exclaimed Mr. King, in great distress, the more so as he saw that the stranger's glasses were knocked off his nose by the collision. I do trust they are not broken, he added, in a concerned tone, endeavoring to pick them up. But the big man was before him. Not a beat, not a beat, he declared, adjusting them on his nose again. Then he suddenly grasped old Mr. King's hand. And I be very glad, sir, very glad indeed that I have run into you. Indeed, exclaimed Mr. King, releasing his hand instantly and all the concern dropping out of his face. Very glad indeed, repeated the big man heartily. Then he pulled his black beard and stood quite still a moment. If you have nothing more to remark, sir, said Mr. King heartily, perhaps you will be kind enough to stand out of my way and allow me to pass. And it would be as well for you to observe more care in the future, sir, both in regard to your feet and your tongue, sir. Yes, I am very glad, began the big man again, who hadn't even heard Mr. King's tirade, for now. And he gave his black beard a final twitch, and his eyes suddenly lightened with a smile that ran all over his face. I can speak to you of disting that is in my mind, your— I want to hear nothing of what is on your mind, declared old Mr. King, now thoroughly angry. Stand aside, fellow, and let me pass. He commanded in a towering passion. The big man stared in astonishment into the angry face, the smile dropping out of his own. I beg to excuse myself, he said with a deep bow, and a wave of his long fingers. Will you pass? And he moved up as tightly as possible to the wall. Old Mr. King went into the little music room in a furious rage, and half an hour afterwards, Polly and Jasper, pausing to look around, saw him tossing and tumbling his letters and newspapers about on the table, fuming to himself all the while. Father has had bad news, exclaimed Jasper, turning pale, something about his agents probably. Oh, dear me, and here we have been playing, quite Polly in remorse, every vestige of color flying from her cheek. Well, we didn't know, said Jasper quickly, but what can we do now, Polly? He turned to her appealingly. I don't know. She was just going to say helplessly, but Jasper's face made her see that something must be done. Let's go and tell him we are sorry, she said. That's what Mamsey always liked best if she felt badly. So the two crept up behind Old Mr. King's chair. Father, I'm so sorry, and dear grand-papa, I'm so sorry, and Polly put both arms around his neck suddenly. Eh, what? cried Mr. King, sitting bolt upright in astonishment. Oh, bless me, children, I thought you were playing on the piano. We were, said Polly, hurrying around to the side of the table, her face quite rosy now. But we didn't know, and she stopped short, unable to find another word. That you felt badly, finished Jasper. Oh, Father, we didn't know that you got bad news. He laid his hand as he spoke on the pile of tumbled up letters. Bad news! Ejaculated Old Mr. King in perplexity, and looking from one to the other. No, we didn't, repeated Polly, clasping her hands. Dear grand-papa, we truly didn't, or we wouldn't have kept on playing all this time. Mr. King put back his head, and laughed, long and loud. As he hadn't done for many a day, his ill humor dropping off in the midst of it. The letters are all right, he said, wiping his eyes. Never had better news. It was an impertinent fellow I met out there, that's all. Father, who has dared began Jasper with flashing eyes. Don't you worry, my boy, it's all right. The fellow got his quietess. Besides, he wasn't worth minding, said Mr. King carelessly. Why, here is your mother, turning to Polly. Now, then, Mrs. Fisher, what is it? For I see by your eye some plan is on the carpet. Yes, there is, said Mrs. Fisher, coming in with a smile. The doctor is going to take a day off. Is that really so? cried Mr. King with a little laugh. What, not even going to visit one of his beloved hospitals? While Polly exclaimed radiantly, Oh, how perfectly elegant! Now we'll have Papa Doctor for a whole long day. Franzi, who had been close to her mother's gown during the delivery of this important news, clasped her hands in a quiet rapture. While Polly exclaimed, Now, Grand Papa, can it be the Regi? Jasper echoing the cry heartily. I suppose it is to be the Regi, a scented old Mr. King, leaning back in his chair to survey them all. That is, if Mrs. Fisher approves. We'll let you pick out the jaunting place, turning to her, seeing that it is the doctor's holiday. I know that Dr. Fisher wants very much to go up to the Regi, said his wife, in great satisfaction as the turn the plans were taking. And we'll stay overnight, Father, cried Jasper, won't we? Stay overnight? repeated his father. I should say so. Why, what would be the good of our going up at all, pray tell, if we didn't devote that much time to it and have a try for a sunrise? Where to go up to the Regi, exclaimed Polly, giving a little hurl and beginning to dance around the room, repeating. Where to go up to the Regi, exactly as if nobody knew it, and she was telling perfectly fresh news. Here, that dance looks awfully good. Wait for me, cried Jasper, and, seizing her hands, they spun round and round. Franzi, scuttling after them, crying, Take me too, I want to dance, Polly. So you shall, cried Polly and Jasper together, so they made a little ring of three and away they went. Polly, this time crying, Just think we're going to have the most beautiful sunrise in all this world. And, on the other side of the partition, in his accustomed nook in the big parlour, the big fat man with a black beard sat. He pulled this same black beard thoughtfully a bit, when Mr. King was telling about the impertinent fellow. Then he smiled and jabbered away to himself, very hard in German, and it wasn't till the King party hurried off to get ready for the Regi trip that he got off and sauntered off. And almost the first person that old Mr. King saw on getting his party into a car on the funicular railway was the impertinent fellow, also bound for the top of the Regi. Oh, Grand Papa, Polly got out of her seat and hurried to him with cheeks aflame when midway up. I know, isn't it wonderful, cried Grand Papa, happy in her pleasure and finding it all just as marvelous as if he hadn't made the ascent several times. Yes, yes, cried Polly, it's all perfectly splendid, Grand Papa. But, oh, I mean, did you hear what that lady said? And she dropped her voice and put her mouth close to Grand Papa's ear. I'm sure I didn't sit old Mr. King carelessly, and I'm free to confess, I'm honestly glad of it. For if there is one thing I detest more than another, Polly, my girl, it is to hear people, especially women, rave and gush over the scenery. Oh, she didn't rave and gush, cried Polly in her whisper, afraid that the lady heard. She said, Grand Papa, that hair burrickie is at Lucerne. Just think, Grand Papa, the great hair burrickie. She took her mouth away from the old gentleman's ear in order to look in his face. Polly, Polly, called Jasper from his seat on the farther end. You are losing all this as the train rounded a curve. Do come back. Now I'm glad of that, exclaimed Grand Papa, in a tone of the greatest satisfaction. For I can ask him about the music masters in Dresden and get his advice and be all prepared before we go there for the winter to secure the very best. And I can see him and perhaps hear him play, breathed Polly in an awestruck tone, quite lost to scenery and everything else. Jasper leaned forward and stared at her in amazement. Then he slipped out of his seat and made his way up to them to find out what it was all about. How did she know, he asked, as Polly told all she knew. I'm just going to ask her. But the lady, who had caught snatches of the conversation, though she hadn't heard Mr. King's part of it, very obligingly leaned forward in her seat and told all she knew. And by the time this was done, they all knew that the information was in the American paper printed in Paris and circulated all over the continent, and that the lady had read it that very morning just before setting out. The only time I missed reading that paper, observed old Mr. King regretfully. And he is staying at our very hotel, finished the lady, for I have seen you, sir, with your party there. Another stroke of good luck, thought old Mr. King, and quite easy to obtain the information I want as to a master for Polly and Jasper. Now, then, children, he said to the two hanging on the conversation, run back to your seats and enjoy the view. This news of ours will keep. So Polly and Jasper ran back obediently, but every step of the toilsome ascent by which the car pushed its way to the wonderful heights above, Polly saw everything with the words. Here, Bauriki is at our hotel, ringing through her ears, and she sat as in a maze. Jasper was nearly as bad. And then everybody was pouring out of the cars and rushing for the hotel on the summit, all but Mr. King's party and a few others, who had their rooms engaged by telegraphing up. When they reached the big central hall, there was a knot of Germans all talking together, and on the outside fringe of this knot, people were standing around and staring at the central figure. Suddenly someone dotted away from this outer circle and dashed up to them. It was the lady from their hotel. I knew you'd want to know, she exclaimed breathlessly, that Herr Bauriki himself, he came up on our train. Just think of it, the big man in the middle with the black beard. She pointed an excited finger at the knot of Germans. Old Mr. King followed the course of the finger and saw his impertinent fellow who wasn't worth minding.