 CHAPTER 20 THE SECRET Mrs. Chatterton, standing by her toilet-table, carefully examining her wealth of gray hair to note the changes in its tint, was suddenly surprised in the very act of picking out an obnoxious white hair by a slight noise in the further corner of the apartment, and dropping her fingers quickly and turning away from the glass, she exclaimed, How dare you, Hortense, come in without knocking! If you make a noise, I'll kill you," declared a man, standing in the shadow of the portier, and watching her underneath a slouched black hat. There was a slight click that caused the listeners' nerve to thrill. But her varied life had brought her nothing if not self-control, and she coolly answered, If you want my money, say so. Not exactly money, ma'am, said the man, for I don't suppose you have much here, but I'll thank you to hand over that box of diamonds. He extended the other hand with its fingers toward a large ebony jewel-case elaborate with its brass hinges and suggestive of double locks on a corner of the table. If you are determined to take it, I suppose I must give it to you," said Mrs. Chatterton, with evident reluctance, handing the box designated, very glad to think she had just but a few days before changed the jewels to another repository to escape Hortense's prying eyes. In making the movement she gave a sweeping glanced out the window. Should she dare to scream? Michael was busy on the lawn, she knew. She could hear his voice talking to one of the under-gardners. See, here, old lady, warned the man, You keep your eyes in the room. Now, then, his greedy glanced fastened on the glittering gems on her fingers. I'll thank you to rip them things off. Dick raced along the further end of the hall after his bird with a, whoop, la, I've almost caught you, startling him. He proceeded to perform the service for himself. There he goes, cried Dick, in her room, Father, well, I must catch him. So without the preamble of knocking, the boy dashed into the dressing-room. The bird whizzing ahead of him flashed between the drawn folds of the portier. Excuse me, cried Dick, rushing in, but my swallow—oh! Go back, cried Mrs. Chatterton Horsley, you'll be killed. The bird, flying over his head in the appearance of the boy, disconcerted the robber for one instant. He held the long white hand in his, tearing off the rings. There was no chance for her to escape. She knew, but she could save Dick. Go back, she screamed again. There was only a moment to think, but Dick dashed in, with a mighty spirit. But, small fists, he flung himself against the stalwart arms and shoulders. O heavens! screamed Mrs. Chatterton. He's but a boy. Let him go. You shall have the rings. Help, help! Dick, clutching and tearing blindly at whatever in the line of hair or ragged garment he could lay hold of, was waging an unequal warfare. But what he did was accomplished finally, and the bird, rushing blindly into the midst of the contention with warrings and flappings indescribable, helped more than an army of servants to confuse the man. Notwithstanding it was soon over, but not before Mrs. Chatterton had wrenched her fingers free, and grasped the pistol from its loose hold in his other hand. The box under his arm fell to the floor, and Dick was just being tossed to the other side of the room, she could hear him strike the shovel-glass with a dull thud. I can shoot as well as you, said Mrs. Chatterton, handling the pistol deftly. Make a noise and I will. He knew it by her eyes that she had taken good aim. Where are you, Dick? cried Polly's voice outside, and wrapping at the door, Mrs. Chatterton, have you seen him? Come in, called Mrs. Chatterton, with firmest of fingers on the trigger, and her flashing eyes fastened upon the seemed dirty face before her. Polly threw away the door. We have a man here that we don't want, said Mrs. Chatterton. I'll take care of him till you get help. Hurry!" Oh, Dick! cried Polly, in a breath with a fearful glance at the boy lying there. I think he's all right, Polly, she dared say no more, for Dick had not stirred. Polly clasped her hands and rushed out almost into Jasper's face. A burglar, a burglar! And he dashed into Mrs. Chatterton's room. Don't interfere, said Mrs. Chatterton. I'm a splendid markswoman. You needn't shoot, said the man, so lonely. I won't stir. No, I don't think you will, said the grey-haired woman, her eyes alight, and her hand firm as a rock. Well, here are the men." Jasper had seized a table-spread, and as Michael and the under-gardners advanced, he went back of the robber and cleverly threw it over his head. It was easy to secure and bind him then. Polly rushed over to Dick. Turned the creature over and let us see how he looks, said Mr. King, hurrying in, as the last knot of the rope was made fast. The old slouched hat had fallen off in the struggle, and the man's features came plainly to view. He's no beauty, and that's a fact. I've seen that fellow round here for many a day, said Michael, giving the recumbent legs a small kick. Once he asked me if we wanted any work done, I'm mindy, you see, with another attention from his gardening-boot. I want to tie one rope, cried a voice. Dick opened his eyes, rubbed them, and felt of his head. I'm all right, Polly. I saw stars, but I've got over it, I guess. Let me give him the last knot, he staggered blindly to his feet. I'll tie for you, said Jasper. Trust me, Dick's all right. Only stunned, he telegraphed to the rapidly increasing group. Tell his mother so, do somebody, said old Mr. King. Well, cousin Eunice, you've covered yourself with glory, he turned on her warmly. She had thrown aside the pistol and now sank into a chair. Never mind, she waved it off carelessly. I'll imagine the compliments. Just now I want a glass of wine, call Hortense, will you? The man on the floor tried to raise his head, but he couldn't, so was obliged to content himself with an ugly grin. That bird has flown, he said. I'll peep. She put me up to it. We was going shares on the old lady's stuff. With that Mrs. Chatterton's spirit returned. She sprang from her chair and rushed around from the bureau to closet, to see the extent of her maid's dishonesty. But beyond a few minor deficiencies of her wardrobe there was no robbery to speak of. Evidently Hortense had considered it unwise to be burdened with much impedimentia. So the robber was hauled off to justice, and Fronzie, coming wonderingly up the stairs, came softly in upon them in time to see Dick rush up to Mrs. Chatterton with a—you're a brick!—before them all. After that there was no more hope of keeping things quiet in the house for Fronzie's sake. Meanwhile the bird, who had played no mean part in the engagement, now asserted himself and blindly rushed into capture. Isn't he lovely? cried Fronzie, tearing her gaze off from the wonderful wings as the swallow fluttered under the mosquito netting speedily brought in. Yes, his wings are, said Polly. Oh, Dick, do tell over again how it all happened. So Dick rehearsed once more as far as he knew the story, tossing off lightly his part of it. Your poor head, does it ache? cried Polly, filling of the big bump on the crown. No, not a bit, declared Dick, shaking his brown pole. I'm glad I didn't crack on the glass. That heavy plate cried Polly looking over at the shovel-glass with a shiver. Fronzie, deserting the fascinating bird, and began to smooth Dick's head with both hands. Do let me bathe it, she begged. I'll get the ponds extract. No I won't, said Dick. It smells awfully, and I've had so much of it for my leg. I'm all right, Fronzie. See his wings now? He's stretching. But Fronzie was not to be diverted from her purpose. I'll get Bay rum, she said. May I? Dick made a wry face. Worse and worse. Cologne, then. Now I hate it. He doesn't want it, Bay, the Fronzie, dear, said Polly. Boys like to get hurt, you know. Tisn't manly to be fixed up. Fronzie gave a sigh, which so went to Dick's heart, that he said, All right, bring on some water if you want to, but don't get any brown paper. I've had enough of that when I was a boy. At the end of that exciting day the secret came out, after all, and rather a tame fashion. Dr. Fisher and Jasper met Polly at an angle of the hall, as she was running upstairs after dinner for her school books. Polly asked the little doctor, putting both hands on her shoulders, and looking into the brown eyes, Should you be willing to go abroad with your mother and Fronzie, Mr. King and Jasper? Oh, Polly gasped. But you, came in a later breath. We couldn't leave you, she cried loyally. Well, I suppose I should go along, too, said the little doctor, enjoying her face. Why, Jasper, Elliot King, cried Polly, slipping out from under the doctor's palms, and seizing the two hands extended. She began to spin around, as in the olden days. Did you ever, ever hear of anything so perfectly magnificent? But Ben and Joel and Davy, she paused on the edge of another pirouette. Dr. Fisher made haste to answer. Polly, Mrs. Whitney, will take care of them, and Jasper led her off into the dance again. How can we ever leave the boys? Oh, I don't see, cried Polly, a bit reproachfully. Her hair blown over her rosy cheeks, as they danced lightly down the long hall. Dr. Fisher leaned against a pillar and watched them. Have to, said Jasper, guiding his partner deftly in the intricacies of the chairs and statuary. That's a good spin, Polly, he said, as they brought up by the little doctor's side. I'm almost tempted to dance myself, said Dr. Fisher, if I wasn't such an old fellow. I'd try, that is, if anybody asked me. I will, said Polly, laughing. Come, Papa Fisher, holding out her hand. Do give me the honour. All right, said Dr. Fisher bravely. So Jasper took the deserted post by the pillar and whistled the Strauss waltz. Thereupon a most extraordinary hopping up and down the hall was commenced. The two figures bobbing like a pair of corks on a quivering water surface. The doors opened and several faces appeared amongst the number Mrs. Fisher's. I couldn't help it, said the little doctor, coming up red and animated and wiping his forehead. His spectacles had fallen off long since and he had let them go. It looked so nice to see Jasper and Polly, I thought I'd try it. I didn't suppose I'd get on so well. I really believe I can dance. Huh! laughed Mr. King. It looks like it. Just see Polly. Oh, Papa Fisher cried Polly with a merry peel, in which Jasper, unpuckering his lips from the Strauss effort, had joined. We must have looked. Here she went off again. Yes, said Jasper, you did. That's just it, Polly, you did. Lucky you two capers didn't break anything. Well, if you've got through laughing, observed Dr. Fisher, I'll remark that the secret is out. Do you like it, Polly? Asked Mr. King, holding out his hand. Say, my girl. And then, before she could answer, he went on. You see, we can't do anything without a doctor on our travels. Now Providence has given us one, though rather an obstinance specimen, he pointed to Father Fisher. And he wants to see the hospitals, and you want to study a bit of music, and your mother wants rest, and Jasper and Franzi and I want fun, so we're going, that's all. When demanded Polly breathlessly? In a month. I think it's a mean shame, cried Joel, in a high vindictive key. You've had burglars here twice, and I haven't been home. You speak as if we appointed the meaning, Joe, said Ben with a laugh. Well, it's mean anyway, cried Joel, with a flash of his black eyes. Now there won't come any again in an age. Goodness, I hope not, ejaculated Mr. King, lowering his newspaper to peer over its top. I'd have floored him, declared Joel striking out splendidly from the shoulder, if only I'd been here. All very well, said Percy negligently, but you weren't here, and he laughed softly. Do you mean to say that I couldn't have handled the burglar, demanded Joel belligerently, and advancing on Percy? Say, because if you do, why, I'll try about with you. I didn't say anything what you could or couldn't do. I said you weren't here, and you weren't. That's enough. And Percy turned his back on him, thrust his hands into the pockets of his morning jacket, and stalked to the window. Ben opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and gave a low whistle. Joel, finding no enthusiasm for the tales of his fighting prowess, ran off to interview Dick on the old topic of the burglary, and to obtain another close account of its details. To think Franzi saw the other burglar five years ago, and now Dick was on hand for this one, those two babies, he fumed, and none of us men around. Percy, said Van, come out in the hall, will you? What do you want? asked Percy lazily. Oh, you come along, cried Van, laying a hold of his jacket. See here, dropping his voice cautiously, as he toed him successfully out. Let's give Joel a chance to see a burglar he wants to so terribly. What do you mean? asked Percy with astonished eyes, his hands still in his pockets. Van burst into a loud laugh, then stopped short. It'll take two of us, he whispered. Oh, Van! exclaimed Percy, and pulling his hands from their resting places, he clapped them smartly together. But we ought not, I really suppose, he said at last, letting them fall to his sides. Mama mightn't like it, you know. She wouldn't mind, said Van, yet he looked uneasy. It would be a great comfort to everyone to take Joe down. He does yarn so. It's an old grudge with you, said Percy pleasantly. You know he beat you when you were a little fellow, and he'd just come. As if I cared for that, said Van, in a dungeon. There was nothing I didn't half try, and he went at me like a country sledgehammer. Yes, I remember, Percy nodded placidly, and you got all worsted and knocked into a heap. Everybody knew it. Do you suppose I'd pound a visitor? cried Van wrathfully, his cheeks aflame. Say, Percy Whitney. No, I don't, said Percy. Not when Twas Joe. That's just it. He was Polly's brother. At mention of Polly, Percy's colors rose, and he put out his hand. Beg pardon, Van, he said. Here, shake and make up. I forgot all about our promise, he added penitently. I forgot it, too, declared Van, quieting down and thrusting out his brown palm to meet his brothers. Well, I don't care what you say, if you'll only get halves in this lark, he finished brightening up. Well, I will, said Percy, to make atonement. Come up to our room, then, and think it out, cried Van gleefully, flying over the stairs three at a bound, shh, shh, and hurry up. Just then the doorbell gave a loud peal, and Jinx the butler opened it to receive a box about two feet long and one broad. For Miss Fronzy Pepper, said the footman on the steps, holding it out. But it's not to be given to her until tomorrow. All right, said Jinx, taking it. That's the sixth box for Miss Fronzy, that I've took in this morning, he soloquized, going down the hall and reading the address carefully, and all the same size. Ding-a-ling, Jinx laid the parcel quickly on one of the oaken chairs in the hall and hurried to the door to be met by another parcel for Miss Fronzy Pepper not to be given to her till tomorrow. And the identical size, he ejaculated, squinting at it, as he went back to pick up the first parcel, as like his two peas they are. Upstairs, Polly was at work with happy fingers. Alexia crossed the room asking every third minute, Polly, how does it go? Oh, dear, I can't do anything unless you look and see if it's right. And Polly would turn her back on a certain cloud of white Muslim and floating lace and flying off to Alexia to give the necessary criticism with a pole here and a pat there would set matters straight, presently running back to her own work again. You see, she said, everything must be just right. For next to Mamzy's wedding, this is to be the most important occasion, Alexia-ris, that we've ever known. We can't have anything too nice for Fronzy's getting well party. That's so, said Alexia, twitching a pink satin bow in the handle of a flower basket. Oh, dear me, this bow looks like everything. I've tried six different times to make it hang down quite careless and refined, and just to provoke me, it pokes up like a stiff old thing in my face. Do come and tie it, Polly? So Polly jumped up again and laying determined fingers on the refractory bow, sent it into a shape that Alexia protested was too lovely for anything. Are you going to have a good bye party? asked Alexia after a minute. I suppose so, said Polly. Grand-papa said I would better, but oh, dear me, I don't believe I can ever get through with it in all this world. And Polly hid her face behind a cloud of muslim that was slowly coming into a shape of a dress for one of Fronzy's biggest dolls. It will be dreadful, said Alexia, with a pathetic little sniff and beginning on a second pink bow, but then, you know, it's your duty to go off nicely, and I'm sure you can't do it, Polly, without a farewell party. Yes, said Polly slowly, but then I'd really rather write little notes to all the girls, but I suppose they'll all enjoy the party, she added. Indeed they will, declared Alexia quickly. Oh, dear me, I wish I was going with you. You'll have a perfectly royal time. I'm going to work hard at my music, you know, declared Polly, raising her head suddenly, a glow on her round cheek. Oh, well, you'll only peg away at it when you have a mind, said Alexia carelessly, and setting lazy stitches. Most of the time you'll be jaunting around seeing things and having fun generally. Oh, don't I wish I was going with you. Alexia wrists, cried Polly in astonishment, and casting her needle from her, she deserted the muslim cloud summarily. Only peg away when I have the mind, she repeated indignantly. Well, I shall have the mind most of the time I can tell you why that's what I'm going abroad for, to study music. How can I ever teach it if I don't go, pray tell? She demanded, and now her eyes flashed, and her hands worked nervously. Oh, nonsense, cried Alexia, not looking at the face before her and going on recklessly. As if that meant anything, all that talk about you being a music teacher, Polly, and she gave a little incredulous laugh. Polly got out of her chair somehow and stood very close to the fussing fingers over the pink satin bow. Do you never dare say that to me again, she commanded. It's the whole of my life to be a music teacher, the very whole. Oh, Polly, down with the satin bow, dragging with it Alexia's spoil of silk and the dainty scissors. Don't, don't, I didn't mean anything, but you really know that Mr. King will never let you be a music teacher in all this world. Never, you know it, Polly. Oh, don't look like that, please don't. He will, said Polly, in a low but perfectly distinct voice, for he has promised me. Well, he'll get out of it somehow, said Alexia, her evil genius, urging her on, for you know, Polly, that it would be queer for any of his family, and—and a girl of our set, to turn out a music teacher. You know, Polly, that it would. And Alexia smiled in the most convincing way and jumped up to throw her arms around her friend. If any of the girls in our set, said Polly grandly, and stepping off from Alexia, wish to draw away from me, they can do so now. I am to be a music teacher. I'm perfectly happy to be one. I want you all to understand, just as happy as I can possibly be in all this world. Why, it's what I've been studying and working for, and how else do you suppose I can ever repay dear grand-papa for helping me? Her voice broke and she stopped a minute, clasping her hands tightly to keep back the rush of words. Oh Polly, cried Alexia and Ismay, and beginning to whimper, she tried again to put her arm around her. Don't touch me, said Polly, waving her off with an imperative hand. Oh Polly, Polly! And the rest of our set may fill as you do. Then I don't want them to keep on liking me, said Polly, with her most superb air, and drawing off further yet. Polly, if you don't stop, you'll, you'll kill me, gasped Alexia. Oh Polly, I don't care what you are. You may teach all day if you want to, and I'll help you get scholars. I'll do anything, and so will all the girls. I know they will. Polly, do let me be your friend, just as I was. Oh dear, dear, I wish I hadn't said anything. I wish I had bitten my tongue off. I didn't think you'd mind it so much, and now Alexia broke down and sobbed outright. You've got to say it's glorious to teach, said Polly, unmoved, and with her highest air on, and that you're glad I'm going to do it. It's, it's gl-glorious to teach, mumbled poor Alexia behind her wet handkerchief. And I'm glad you're going to do it, dictated Polly inflexibly. I'm glad you're going to do it, Exo-Dalexia, in a dismal tone. Then I'll be your friend once more, consented Polly with a slow step toward Alexia. That is, if you never in all this world say such a dreadful thing again, Alexia-Riss. Don't ask me, you know I won't, promised Alexia, in her spirits rising. So Polly went over to her and said a kiss on her wet cheek, comforting her as only Polly could, and before long the pink satin bow with the spool of silk hanging to it, and the scissors were found under the table, and Polly attacked the muslin cloud with redoubled vigor, and the girl's voices carried merry laughter and scraps of happy talk, and Mrs. Chatterton stole out of the little reading room next to them and shut herself up in her own apartment. Dear me, how fine that doll's gown is going to be, Polly, exclaimed Alexia. After a bit, is the lace going on all around the bottom? Yes, said Polly, fighting off her thread and giving the muslin breaths a little shake. Valicia's tucking the flounce, then I shall have to sew on the lace. How many dolls are there to refurbish before tomorrow? asked Alexia suddenly. Four. No, five, said Polly, rapidly counting. For the one that Grand Papa gave her Christmas before last, Celestine, you know, does need a new waist. I forgot her, but that doesn't count the new sashes and the hair ribbons and the lace ruffles round the necklines. I guess there are almost fifty of them, dear me, I must hurry, and she began to sew faster yet. What a nuisance all those dolls are, said Alexia. They take up every bit of your spare time. That isn't the worst of it, said Polly. Alexia, I don't know what we shall do for Fronzie works over them till she's quite tired out. You ought to see her this morning. She's up in the playhouse at it now, I suppose, said Alexia, dressing every one of them for the party tomorrow. Yes, said Polly, she is. Will I hope no one will give her a doll tomorrow, said Alexia. At least no one but Mr. King. Of course he will. Oh, no one else will, declared Polly cheerfully. Of course not, Alexia. And then Jinx walked in, with his seven boxes exactly alike as to size, and deposited them solemnly in a row on the blue and white lounge. For Miss Fronzie Pepper, and not to be open till tomorrow, Miss Mary. Polly, said Alexia, in a stage whisper, and jumping up as Jinx disappeared to run over to the row. Do you suppose they are dolls? I shall die if they are, declared Polly desperately, and sitting quite still. They surely look like dolls in the very covers, said Alexia, fingering the cords. Would it be very so wrong to open one box and just relieve our suspense? Just one Polly. No, no, don't! cried Polly sharply. They belong to Fronzie. But oh, dear me! And just think, said Alexia, like a Job's comforter and looking over at the clock. It's only half past eleven, Polly Pepper. There's time for oceans more to come in yet. It's perfectly horrid to get such a scrap of an outing. Said Joel that night, sprawling on the rug before the library fire. Only four days! Why couldn't Mr. Marx be sick longer than that, if he was going to be sick at all, pray? These four days will give you strength for your exams, won't they, Joe? Asked fan. Joel turned his black eyes on him and coolly said, Yes. Then made a writhe face, doubled up a bit of paper, and aimed it at fan. Davey sighed and looked up anxiously. I hope Mr. Marx will come out all right, so that we can go back Monday. I only hope he'll stay ill, said Joel affectionately. Tisn't safe, anyway, for us to go back Monday. It may be typhoid fever, you know. Mamsie? Looking over at her. They'll let us know soon enough if that's the case, said Mother Fisher, in the lamplight over by the centre-table. No, I expect your letter tomorrow will say, come Monday. Well, it's a downright shame for us to be pulled off so soon, cried Joel indignantly, sitting straight. Think how soon the term ends, Joe, cried Polly. Then you have such a long outing. She sighed as she thought of the separation to come, and the sea between them. That's nothing. Only a dreadful little time soon will be gone, grunted Joel, turning his face to look at the brightly leaping flames the cool evening had made necessary. Ben glanced over at Polly. Don't talk of the summer, he was going to say, but stopped in time. Fronzie set her doll carefully in the corner on the sofa, and went over to Joel. Does your head ache often at school, Joel? She asked softly, laying her cool little palm on his stubby hair. Yes, said Joel, it does. Awfully, Fronzie, and nobody cares and says, stop studying. A shout greeted this. That's too bad, said Fronzie pittingly. I shall just write and ask Mr. Marks if he won't let you stop and rest when it aches. Twidden, do any good, Fronzie, said Joel. Nothing would. He's a regular old grinder, Marks is. Mr. Marks, said Fronzie slowly. I don't know who you mean by Marks, Joel. And what is a grinder, please? Getting down on her knees to look into his face. And he works us boys so, Fronzie, you can't think, said Joel, ignoring the question. What is a grinder, Joel? Please tell me, repeated Fronzie with gentle persistence. Oh, a grinder is a horrid buffer, began Joel impatiently. Joel, said Mrs. Fisher reprovingly. The fire in her black eyes was not too pleasant to look at, and after one glance he turned back to the blazing logs once more. I can't help it, he muttered, picking up the tongues to poke the fire. Don't ever let me hear that excuse from a son of mine, said Mother Fisher scornfully, can't help it. I'd be master of myself, that's one thing. Joel set the tongs back with an unsteady hand. They slipped, and fell to the hearth with a clang. Mamsie, I didn't mean, he began, finding his feet, and before anyone could draw a long breath, he rushed out of the room. There was a dreadful pause. Polly clasped her hands tightly together and looked at her mother. Mrs. Fisher quietly put her sewing into the big basket and got out of her chair. Oh, what is the matter with Joey? cried Fonsie, standing quite still by the deserted hearthrug. Mamsie, do you suppose his head aches? I think it must, said Mrs. Fisher gravely. Then she went out very quietly, and they could hear her going up the stairs. With a firm step she went into her own room and turned up the gas. The flash revealed Joel, face downward, on the broad, comfortable sofa. Mrs. Fisher went over and closed the door, then came to his side. I thought, my boy, she said, that I should find you here. Now, then, tell mother all about it. And lifting his head, she sat down and took it into her lap. Oh, dear! cried Joel, burrowing deep into the comfortable lap. Oh, dear, oh, dear! Now, that is silly, Joey, said Mother Fisher. Tell me at once what all this trouble is about. Passing her firm hand over his hot forehead and trying to look in his face, but he struggled to turn it away from her. In the first place, I just hate school, he exploded. Please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Brianna Simmons. Five Little Peppers Midway by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 22 Joel Hate school! cried Mother Fisher. Oh, Joey, think how Ben wanted more schooling! Only he wouldn't take the chance when Mr. King offered it to him, because he felt that he must be earning money as soon as possible. Oh, Joey! That, oh, Joey, cut deeply. Joel winced and burrowed deeper under his mother's fingers. That's just it, he cried. Ben wanted it, and I don't. I hate it, and I don't want to go back. Don't want to go back, repeated Mrs. Fisher and dismay. No, I don't. The fellows are always tweeting me, and everyone gets ahead of me, and I'm everlastingly staying in from ball games to make up lessons, and I'd like to fire the books I would, cried Joel with venom. Mrs. Fisher said nothing, but the hands still stroked the brown stubby head in her lap. And nobody cares for me because I won't be smart like the others, but I can't help it. I just hate school. Finished Joel in the same strain. Joel said Mrs. Fisher slowly. If that is the case, I shall go down to Mr. King and tell him that we, Father Fisher and I, Polly and Fronzie, will not go abroad with him. Joel bolted upright and, putting down his two hands, brought his black eyes to bear on her. What? I shall go directly downstairs and tell Mr. King that Father Fisher and I, Polly and Fronzie, will not go abroad with him, repeated his mother slowly and distinctly while she looked him fully in the face. You can't do that, said Joel in amazement. He's engaged the staterooms. That makes no difference, said Mrs. Fisher, when a woman has a boy who needs her, nothing should stand in the way, and I must stay home and take care of you, Joel. Joel sprang to his feet and began to prance up and down the floor. I'm big enough to take care of myself, mother, he declared, coming up to her, to prance off again. So I thought, said Mrs. Fisher composedly, or I shouldn't have placed you at Mr. Mark's school. The idea, ma'amzie, of your staying home to take care of me, said Joel excitedly. Why, feel of that! he buried his arm and, coming up, thrust it out for inspection. Isn't that splendid? I do verily believe I could whip any fellow in school I do. He cried regarding his muscles affectionately. If you don't believe it, just pinch them hard. You don't mean it really, ma'amzie, what you said? Of course. The idea of staying at home to take care of me, and he began to prance again. I don't care how many boys you can whip, observed mother Fisher, Cooley. As long as you can't whip your own self when you're naughty, you're too weak to go alone, and I must stay at home. Joel stopped suddenly and looked at her. And before I'd give up, a boy of thirteen, and begged to be taken away from school because the lessons were hard, and I didn't like to study, I'd work myself to skin and bone, but I'd go through creditably. Mrs. Fisher sat straight now as an arrow in the corner of the sofa. I've said my say, Joel, she finished after a pause, and now I shall go down and tell Mr. King. Mother! howled Joel, dashing across the room to her. Don't go, I'll stay, I will. Don't say that again about my having to be taken care of like a baby. I'll be good, mother, and study. Study doesn't amount to much unless you are glad of the chance, said Mrs. Fisher sharply. I wouldn't give a fig for it being driven to it, and her lips curled scornfully. Joel wilted miserably. I do care for the chance, he cried, just try me and see. Mrs. Fisher took his sunburned face between her two hands. Do you really wish to go back to school and put your mind on your books? Be honest now. Yes, I do, said Joel without winking. Well, you never told me a lie, and I know you won't begin now, said Mother Fisher, slowly releasing him. You may go back, Joel, I'll trust you. Franzi, said Jasper, as the sound of the two voices could be heard in Mother Fisher's room. Don't you want to come into my den? I've some new bugs in the cabinet, found regular beauty today. Franzi stood quite still, just where Joel had left her. Her hands were clasped, and tears were rolling slowly down her cheeks. No, she said, without looking at him. Jasper, I don't. Do come, Franzi, he begged, going over to her, and holding out his hand. You can't think how nice the new one is, with yellow stripes and two long horns. Come and see it, Franzi. No, Jasper, said the child quietly. Then, in the next breath, I think Joey must be very sick. Oh, Mamzy is taking care of him, and he'll soon be all right. Broken poly-chirfully. Do go with Jasper, Franzi. Do, dear. She took hold of the clasped hands, and smiled into the drooping face. But Franzi shook her head, and said, No. If grand-papa should come in and find her so, it would be very dreadful, exclaimed Polly, looking over at the five boys, who, in this sudden emergency, were knocked speechless. Do let us all play some game. Can't someone think of one? Let us play twenty questions, proposed Jasper brightly. I'll begin it. I've thought of something. That's horrid, cried Van, finding his tongue. None of us want to play that, I'm sure. I do, said David. I think twenty questions is always nice. Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral, Jasper? I'm sick of it. Do play something not quite as old as the hills. I beg. Will you think of something yourself, old man? said Jasper, nodding furiously at him. Hurry up. I'd rather have Polly tell a story than any game you could possibly think of. said Van, going over to her, where she sat on the rug at Fronze's feet. Polly, will you? he asked, weedlingly, Lee. Don't ask her to-night, interposed Jasper. Yes, I shall. It's the only time we shall have, said Van, before we go back to school. Do Polly, will you? he begged again. I can't think of the first thing, declared Polly, pushing back little rings of brown hair from her forehead. Don't try to think, just spin it off, said Van. Now begin. You're a regular nuisance, Van, exclaimed Jasper indignantly. Polly, I wouldn't indulge him. I know Fronze wants a story, don't you, Fronze? asked Van artfully, and running over to peer into her face. But to his astonishment, Fronze stood perfectly still. No, she said again. I don't want a story, Joey must be sick. Jasper cried Polly in despair, and springing up, something must be done, grandpa's coming, I hear him. Fronze, said Jasper, bending to speak into her ear. Do you know you are making Polly feel very unhappy? Just think, the next thing I don't know, but she will cry. Fronze unfolded her hands. Give me your handkerchief, Polly, she said, winking back the rest of the tears. Now there's a dear, cried Polly, pulling out her handkerchief, and wiping the wet little face. None too soon, the door opened, and Mr. King came in. Well, well, well, he exclaimed, looking over his spectacles at them all. Playing games, eh? We're going to, said Van and Jasper together. No, Polly is going to tell a story, said Van loudly. That is, if you want to hear it, grandpa, do say you do, he begged, going over to whisper in his ear. I want immensely to hear it, declared the old gentleman, pulling up an easy chair to the friar side. There now, sitting down, I'm fixed. Now proceed, my dear. Van softly clapped his hands. Fronze, Mr. King beckoned to her, and then suggestively touched his knee. Here, dear. Fronze scurried across the room to his side. Yes, grand-papa. There, up she goes, saying Mr. King, swinging her into position on his lap. Now then, Polly, my child, we are all ready for the wonderful tale. Stay, where is Joel? Joel went upstairs a little while ago, said Jasper quickly. Well now, Polly, do begin. I'll tell how we went to buy Fronze's shoes, said Polly, drawing up an ottoman to Mr. King's side. Now, boys, bring your chairs up. Joel ought to know that you are going to tell a story, Polly, said Mr. King. One of you boys run out and call him at the foot of the stairs. He's in Mamsey's room, said Ben. I suppose when she gets through with him he'll come down. Oh, ah! said the old gentleman. Well, Polly, then perhaps you would better proceed. So Polly began on the never-tire-some recital, how Fronze fell down the stairs leading from the kitchen to the provision-room in the little brown house, with the bread-knife in her hand, and how, because she cut her thumb so that it bled dreadfully, mother decided that she could, at last, have a pair of shoes bought especially for her own self, and how Deacon Brown's old horse and wagon were procured, and they all set forth except mother, and how they rode to town, and how the bebes were just as good as gold, and how the red-topped shoes fitted as if they were made for Fronze's feet, and how they all went home, and how Fronze danced around the kitchen till she was all tired out, and then went to bed carrying the new shoes with her, and how she fell asleep with, why I declare, exclaimed Polly, reaching this denument in a delightfully roundabout way, if she isn't asleep now. And indeed she was. So she had to be carried up to bed in the same old way, only this time it was Jasper instead of Polly who held her. Don't you believe we'd better put it off until some other night, whispered Percy to Van on the way upstairs to bed, the library party having broken up early. A fellow doesn't want to see a burglar on top of the time Joel has had. No, no, said Van. It'll be good for him, and knock the other thing out of his head. Don't you see, Percy? I should want something else to think of if I were Joel. You can't back out. You promised, you know. Well, I'll do it, said Percy testily. It's no use trying to sleep, declared Joel in the middle of the night, and kicking the bedclothes for the dozenth time into a roll at the foot. As long as I can see Mamsey's eyes, I'll just get up and tackle that Latin grammar now. Woo! haven't I got to work, though? Might as well begin it. And he jumped out of bed. Stepping softly over to the door that led into David's little room, he closed it carefully, and with a sigh lighted the gas. Then he went over to the table where his schoolbooks ought to have been, but instead the space was piled with a great variety of things, one or two balls, a tennis racket, and a confusion of fishing tackle. While in the front, the last thing that had occupied him that day lay a book of artificial flies. Joel said his teeth together hard and looked at them. Suppose I shan't get much of this sort of thing this summer? He muttered. Here goes! And without trusting himself to take another look, he swept them all off down to the floor and into a corner. There, he said, standing up straight, lie there, will you? But they loomed in a suggestive heap, and his fingers trembled just to touch them once. I must cover up the things, or else I know I'll be at them, he said, and hurrying over to the bed he dragged off the cover lid. Now, and he threw it over the fascinating mass, I've got to study. Dear me, where are my books? For the next five minutes Joel had enough to do to collect his working instruments, and when at last he unearthed them from the corner of his closet where he had thrown them under a pile of boots, he was tired enough to sit down. I don't know which to go at first, he groaned, whirling the leaves of the upper book. It ought to be Latin, but then it ought to be algebra just as much. And as for history, well, there. Here goes! I'll take them as they come. With a very red face Joel plunged into the first one under his hand. It proved to be the Latin grammar, and with a grimace he found the page, and resting his elbows on the table he seized each side of his stubby head with his hands. I'll hang on to my hair, he said, and plunged into his task. And now there was no sound in the room but his hard breathing and the noise he made turning the leaves, for he very soon found he was obliged to go back many lessons to understand how to approach the one before him, and with cheeks growing every instant more scarlet was shame and confusion, the drops of perspiration ran down his forehead and fell on his book. Phew! he exclaimed, it's horribly hot! And pushing back his book he tiptoed over to the other window and softly raised it. The cool air blew into his face and leaning far out into the dark night he drew in deep breaths. I've skinned through and saved my neck a thousand times, he reflected, and now I've got to dig like sixty to make up. There's Dave now sleeping in there like a cat. He doesn't have anything to do but to run ahead of the class like lightning just because he loves it, something seemed to sting the words into him. Joel drew in his head and turned abruptly away from the window. Shoo! well, here goes, he exclaimed again, throwing himself into his chair. She said I'd work myself to skin and bone but I'd get through creditably. Joel bared his brown arm and regarded it critically. I wonder how it would look all skin and bone, and he gave a short laugh. But this isn't steadying. He pulled down his sleeve and his head went over the book again. Outside, a bright blue eye applied to the keyhole gave place to a bright brown one till such time as the persons to whom the eyes belonged were satisfied as to the condition of the interior they were surveying. What do you suppose he's doing? whispered the taller figure, putting his face concealed under a black mask, closely to the ear of the other person whose countenance was similarly adorned. I don't know, whispered the second black mask. He acts dreadfully queer, but I suppose he's got a novel. So you see, it's our duty to break it up, he added, virtuously. The taller figure shook his head, but as it was very dark on their side of Joel's door, the movement was unobserved. Well, come on, whispered the second black mask. Are you ready? Yes. Come, then. Oh, dear, dear, grunted Joel, I'd rather chop wood as I used to, years ago, to help the little brown house out, swinging his arms up over his head. Why? And he was left in darkness, his arms falling nervously to his side, while a cautious step across the room made his black eyes stand out and fright. A burglar, a burglar, flashed through his mind. He held his breath hard and his knees knocked together, but Mamsey's eyes seemed to look with scorn on him again. Joel straightened up, clenched his fist, and every minute expecting to be knocked on his head, he crept like a cat to the further corner, even in this extremity, grumbling inwardly, because Mr. King would not allow firearms. If I only had them now, he thought, well, I must get my club. But there was no time to get it. Joel, creeping along, feeling his way cautiously, soon knew that there were two burglars instead of one in the room, and his mind was made up. They'll be after Grandpa's money, sure, he thought. I have got to get out and warn him. But how? That was the question. Getting down on all fours, holding his breath, yet with never a thought of danger to himself, he crept along toward the door, leading into the hall, then stopped and rested under cover of the heavy window drapery. But as quick as a flash, two dark figures, that now, his eyes becoming more accustomed to the darkness, he could dimly distinguish, reached there before him, and the key clicking in the lock, Joel knew, that all hope from escape by that quarter was gone. Like a cat, he sprang to his feet, swung the drapery out suddenly toward the figures, and, in the next second, hurled himself over the windowsill, hanging to the edge, grasping to the blind, crawling to the next window, and so on, and over and down, down by any friendly thing he could grasp to the ground. Two black masks hung over the deserted window edge. Joe, Joe, it's only we boys, Percy and Van. Joe, Joe! He'll be killed, gasped Van, his face as white as Joel's robe, fluttering below them in the wild descent. Stop him, Percy! Oh, do stop him! Percy clung to the windowsill and danced in distress. Stop him! He was beyond uttering anything more. Yes, oh, Joe, don't you see it's only Percy and Van? cried Van persuasively, and hanging out of the window to the imminent danger of adding himself to Joel's company. Percy shoved him back. He's most down, he said, finding his breath. Now we'll run downstairs and let him in. Van flew off from the window. I'll go, it's my scrape, and he was unlocking the door. I'm the oldest, said Percy, hurrying to get there first. I ought to have known better. This made Van furious, and pushing Percy with all his might, he wriggled out first as the door flew open, and not forgetting to tiptoe down the hall, he hurried along Percy behind him to hear the noise of men's feet coming over the stairs. Van tried to rush forward, shouting, Thomas, it's we boys, Percy and Van. Instead he only succeeded in the darkness in stumbling over a chair and falling flat with it amid a frightful racket that drowned his voice. Old Mr. King, who had been awakened by the previous noise and had wrung his burglar alarm that connected with Thomas's and Jinx's rooms in the stable, now cried out from his doorway, make quick work, Thomas, and Percy saw the gleam of a pistol held high in Thomas's hand. Up with a rush came bare feet over the back stairs, a flutter of something white and jolts spring in between them. It's Percy, it's Percy, he screamed. Don't you see, Thomas? I'm Percy, don't shoot, the taller burglar kept saying without intermission, while the flaring of candles and frightened voices told of the aroused household. Make quick work, Jinx, shouted Mr. King from his doorway, to add the general din. Thomas, whose blood was up, determined once for all to put an end to the profession of burglary as far as his master's house was concerned, now drew nearer, steadying his pistol and trying to sight the nearest fellow. This proved to be Van, now struggling to his feet. Joel took one wild step forward. Thomas, don't shoot, it's Van. Make quick work, Thomas, called Mr. King. There was but a moment in which to decide it was either Van or he, and in an instant Joel had stepped in front of the pistol. 23. Of many things. Van threw his arms around Joel. Make quick work, Thomas, called Mr. King, from his doorway. The pistol fell from Thomas' hand. I've shot one of the boys. Oh, murder! he screamed. And everybody rushing up, supposed it was Van who was writhing and screaming unintelligibly in the corner. Oh, I've killed him, they finally made out. Who? Who? Oh, Van who? Joey screamed Van, bending over a white heap on the floor. Oh, make him get up, I've killed him. The mask was hanging by the end from his white face and his eyes protruded wildly. Up flew another figure adorned with a second black mask. No, no, it was I, said Percy, rushing forward with an Oh, Joel! Joel! Somebody lighted the gas that flashed suddenly over the terrified group and somebody else lifted the heap from the corner. And, as they did so, Joel stirred and opened his eyes. Don't make such a fuss, he said crossly. One hand had gripped the sleeve of his nightdress trying to hold it up in a little wad on the shoulder, the blood pouring down the arm. At the side of this Van collapsed and slid to the floor. Don't frighten Mamzy, said Joel, his head drooping despite his efforts to hold it up. I'm all right, nothing but a scratch. Let me be, will you? To Mr. Whitney and Jasper who were trying to support him. And Mother Fisher, for the first time since the children had known her, lost her self-control. Oh, Joey! And Mother was crossed to you. She could only sob as she reached him. Polly, at a nod from the little doctor's nightcap and a few hurried words, ran as in a dream for the case of instruments in his bedroom. All right, Mamzy, exclaimed Joel in surprise and trying to stagger to his feet. Good heavens and earth, cried old Mr. King approaching. What! Oh! It's monstrous! Joel! Oh! It's murder! Thomas sidled along the edge of the group, rolling fearful eyes at them, and repeating over and over, I've shot that boy, that boy! All this occupied but an instant, and Joel was laid in his bed. And the wound which proved to be only a flesh one, the ball cutting a little furrow as it grazed the shoulder, was dressed, and everybody drew a long breath. Tell Van that I'm all right, Joel kept saying all the time. Polly undertook to do this. Van, Van! she cried, running into the hall to lay a shaking hand on his arm, where he lay on the floor. Joel sent me to say that he is all right. Polly, I've killed him! Van thrust his head up suddenly, and looked at her with wild eyes. I have—don't speak to me or look at me! I've killed Joel! Take off this dreadful thing, said Polly with a shiver, and kneeling down she seized the strings that tied the mask. Oh, dear, it's all in a knot! Wait, I'll get the scissors! And she found her feet and ran off to her room. Now you are all right, he gave a little sob as the mask tumbled off. Oh, how could you, she wanted to say, but Van's distress was too dreadful for anything but comfort. Don't you see, said Polly, sitting down on the floor and cuddling up his head in her lap, that Joel really is all right now. Suppose we hadn't a father-fisher who was a doctor, what should we do then? And she even managed a faint laugh. Oh, dear, but I've killed Joel! Van covered his face with the folds of her flannel dress and welled on. Now just see here, Van Whitney, said Polly, with the air of authority. I tell you that Joel is all right now. Don't you say that again, not once more, Vanny? But I have ki—I mean, I saw Thomas shoot, and I couldn't stop him. And Van rides fearfully, ending with a scream, I have ki—but Polly, clapping her hand over his mouth, kept the words back. Meanwhile, Percy had rushed out of the house. Oh! cried Polly, when this new alarm sprang up, and everybody was running hither and thither to comfort him by the assurance that Joel was not too much hurt. Do, Uncle Mason and Jasper, let me go with you. No, no, you stay here, Polly, cried Jasper, throwing wide the heavy front door. Brother Mason and I will find him. Don't worry, Polly. I know I could help, said Polly, hanging over the stair railing. Oh, do let me, she begged. No, no, child, said Mr. Whitney quickly. Stay where you are and take care of the others. Now then, Jasper, is Jinx ready with the lantern. All right, said Jasper, come on. Polly, longing to fly to the window to watch at least, the lantern's twinkling light across the lawn, hurried off to comfort Aunt Whitney, who, at this new stage in the affairs, was walking her room, biding her lips to keep from screaming the terror that clutched at her heart. Oh, Polly, she cried. I'm so glad you've come, I should die if left alone here much longer. Her soft hair floated down the white robe, and the blue eyes were filled with tears. Do tell me, don't you think they will find Percy? Yes, indeed, declared Polly, cuddling up to the little woman. Oh, Auntie, remember when Dickie's leg was broken? But this is much worse, said Mrs. Whitney, sobbing and holding close to Polly's warm hand. But we thought he was dead, and Polly gave a little shiver. Don't, don't, begged Mrs. Whitney, clasping her hands. Oh, Polly, don't. But it wasn't, you see, Auntie, Polly hurried on, and so now you know it will all come out right about per— There! Oh, they found him, as a shout from the lawn rang out. Do you suppose it, Polly? cried Mrs. Whitney breathlessly. Oh, do run to the window and see! So Polly ran to the window in the next room that overlooked that part of the lawn where Mr. Whitney and Jasper were searching and strained her gaze up and down and in every direction. Have they, oh, have they? cried Mrs. Whitney. Oh, Polly, do tell me. I don't see any of them, said Polly, listening eagerly for another cry, but I do believe they found him. Do come back, implored Mrs. Whitney. There, now, don't go again, Polly, as Polly hurried to her side. But just hold my hand. I will, said Polly, just as tight as I can, Auntie. Oh, oh, Percy is so much worse off than Joel, welled Mrs. Whitney. Oh, to do such a thing, Polly, she groaned. They only meant it in fun, said Polly, swallowing hard the lump in her throat. Don't let us talk about it, Auntie. And Van, cried Mrs. Whitney running on. Oh, my poor, poor boys, will your mother ever forgive me, Polly? Oh, Auntie, don't talk so, said Polly tenderly. And we both ought to be out helping. There's Van, Auntie. Just think how he feels. I can't go near him, cried Mrs. Whitney in distress. As long as he is in Joel's room, for I can see her mother's eyes, Polly, it would kill me to have her look at me. The door opened at this, and the trail of a long silken wrapper was heard on the floor. Mrs. Chatterton, said Mrs. Whitney raising her head and looking at the newcomer, with as much anger as her gentle face could contain. I really cannot see you in my room tonight. Excuse me, but I am unstrung by all that has occurred. Will you please not come in? I thought I might sit with you, said Mrs. Chatterton, in the brief interval since the arousing of the household. She had contrived to make a perfect breakfast toilet, and she folded her hands over her handsome gown. Polly might then be with her mother, but if you don't wish me to remain, I will go. I do not need you, said Mrs. Whitney, decidedly, and she turned to Polly again. Mrs. Chatterton moved away and closed the door after her. Auntie, said Polly, she really wants to help you. Polly, you needn't say anything about it, exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, like many other gentle creatures, when roused, becoming unreasonably prejudiced. I cannot bear the sight of that woman. She has been here so long and is so intensely disagreeable to us all. Polly's eyes became very round, and she held her breath in astonishment. Don't look so child, said Mrs. Whitney at length. You don't understand, my dear, but you would if you were in my place. She's sorry for it, said Polly, finding her tongue at last. And fathers nearly worn out with her, continued Mrs. Whitney, and now to come parading her attentions upon me at— Who, who? Dicky, now that the excitement in Joel's room had died down, had lost his relish for it, and he now prints into Mrs. Whitney's room. Who, Mama? Mrs. Chatterton, said Mrs. Whitney unguardedly. She has disagreeably intruded herself upon me. Has she been in here? asked Dick in astonishment. Yes, asking if she can sit with me. And Polly started at the look in the usually soft blue eyes. And you wouldn't let her? asked Dick, stopping short and regarding his mother curiously. Of course not, Dicky, she made haste to say. Then I think you did very wrong, declared Dick flatly. Oh, Dick! exclaimed Polly in consternation. And you don't act like my mother at all, said Dick, standing quite stiffly on his sturdy legs and gazing at her with disapprobation. Didn't Mrs. Chatterton save my life, he exploded, when the real burglar was going for me, say, didn't she? he cried. I have yet to find out that that is the truth, said Mrs. Whitney, finding her voice. Oh, Dicky, she added, heard that he should defend another, worst of all, Mrs. Chatterton. Don't talk about her. But I ought to talk about her, persisted Dick. She saved me as much as she could, because she won't let anybody thank her. I like her more myself. I'm going to stay with her. With that he held his head high and marched to the door. Dick, Dick, called his mother, come back, dear. Dick slowly turned and mazed way to her side, but he still regarded her with disapproval. Dick, I want you to go to Mrs. Chatterton's room and say that I am sorry I refused her offer to help and that I would like to have her sit with me. Remember to say I am sorry I refused her offer to help, Dicky. She leaned forward and kissed her boy, her long soft hair falling like a veil around the two faces. Dick threw his arms around her neck. Now you're a brick, he declared impulsively. I'll bring the old lady, and we'll both sit with you. So Polly was free to run back to Mamsey. On the way there she opened the door of Fronze's little room, just out of mother and father-fishers. How good it is that she sleeps through it all, said Polly, listening to the regular breathing. Then she stole across the room and stood beside the small bed. She looks just as she did the night that she took her new shoes to bed, thought Polly. One hand is over her head exactly as it was then. Oh, Fronze, to think that you're to have no party tomorrow. And she turned with a sigh, went out, and closed the door. Percy's here all right, cried Jasper, running over the stairs to meet her at the top. His eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his face was torn and bleeding. Are you hurt? cried Polly, feeling as if the whole family were bound to destruction. Oh Jasper, did you fall? Nothing but a scratch. I was full enough to forget the ledge and walked off for my pains. Oh Jasper! cried Polly, with paling cheeks. Let me pay that for you do. Her strength began to return at the thought of action, and she sprang for a basin of water. Nonsense! No, Polly! cried Jasper, with a quick hand, detaining her. It's nothing but a mere scratch, I tell you. But I suppose it looks terribly. I'll go and wash it off. Run and tell his mother that Percy is found. Is he all right? asked Polly fearfully, holding her breath for the answer. Sound as a nut, declared Jasper. We found him streaking it down the locus path. He said he was going to run off to sea. Run off to sea! repeated Polly. Oh Jasper! Well, he was so frightened. Of course he didn't know what to say. Replyed Jasper, and ashamed too. He didn't care to show his head at home. I don't know as I blame him, Polly. Well, it's too bad about Franzi's party, isn't it? Added Jasper, mopping his face as the two went down the hall. But Joel flatly declared that the first one that even so much as hinted that a single item of the arrangements for Franzi's getting well-party should be changed. He'd make it disagreeable, as only he knew how for that one when he got up from his bed. Yes, sir. And he scolded, and fretted, and fussed, and laid down the law so generally to all, not accepting the doctor, that at last it was decided to let the party go on. Then he lay back against the pillows, quite exhausted, but with a beatific face. I should think you would be tired, Joe, exclaimed Jasper. You've bullied us so. Dear me, people ought to be angelic when they're sick at least. If you'd had him to take care of as I did, observed Dr. Fisher, you'd know better, goodness me, the little brown house scarcely held him when he was getting over the measles. What's the use of being sick? said Joel reflectively, turning on his pillow. If you can't make people stand around, I'd like to know. Now that point settled about Franzi's party. Won't you all go out? I'd like to speak with Father Fisher a moment. You don't mean me, Joey? said Mother Fisher, at the head of the bed, holding her boy's hand. Yes, you too, Ramsay, said Joel, giving her an affectionate glance. It's something that only the doctor and I are to know. You're not hurt anywhere else, are you, Joey? asked his mother, a sudden alarm, leaping to her black eyes. Not a scratch, said Joel promptly. I want to see Father Fisher about something, something you shall know, Ramsay. He gave her a sudden pressure, then let it go. Perhaps you would better step out, my dear, said the little doctor nodding to his wife. So Mrs. Fisher, smothering a sigh, went out reluctantly. All out? asked Joel, trying to raise his head to see for himself. Every soul, said Dr. Fisher. Well, see here, will you? said Joel, pointing to the table. The school books scattered as he had left them. Pack those things all away in the closet on the shelf, you know, and put the rubbish on the floor there, back on the table. Dr. Fisher could not, for his life, refrain from asking curiously, as he did as requested. Been having a pull at the books, eh, Joe? Um, um, maybe, said Joel, twisting uneasily. Well, now, come here, please, Father Fisher. The little man turned away from the table, with its sprawling array of delightful things, to stand by the bedside. You must get me well as soon as you can, said Joel confidently. All right, I understand, Dr. Fisher nodded professionally. And whatever you say, don't let it out, that I must be careful of my eyes, said Joel. All right, that is, if you get up quickly, agreed the doctor. That's all, said Joel, in great satisfaction. Now calm Mamzy in, and the others. And in the morning no one told Fronzy what had happened the night before. She only knew that Joel was not very well, and was going to keep his room. All her pleadings to do something for him being set on one side by grandpa's demands upon her instant attention whenever the idea suggested itself to her. And so the time wore along till the party began. Alexia was the first to arrive, her bowl of orange jelly in her hand, and after her a tall slight figure jumped from the carriage, her flaxen hair streaming out in two pale braids. I thought I'd picked Kathy up, said Alexia carelessly. Had to pass her door, you know. Oh, dear me, what perfectly dreadful times you had last night, Polly Pepper. I didn't bring macaroons, said Kathy, as I really think that they wouldn't be good for Fronzy. Besides, I've forgotten how to make them, and our cook was cross, and I said I shouldn't come into her kitchen. But I bought a doll for Fronzy. My mother said it would be a great deal more sensible present, and she hugged the long box under her arm with great satisfaction. Oh, dear, dear, groaned Alexia falling back with Polly as the three raced along the hall. She showed it to me in the carriage, and it's a perfect guy, besides counting one more. But afflictions like this were small to Polly now. And although, for the next hour, it rained dolls into Fronzy's puzzled hands, Polly helped her to thank the givers, and to dispose them safely on neighboring chairs and tables and sofas. Mrs. Chatterton's was the pattern of old Mr. King's phonograph doll, at which discovery he turned upon her with venom in his eyes. My gift to my little granddaughter, taking a special care to emphasize the relationship, has always been a doll. I suppose you knew that, cousin Eunice, and tried to procure one exactly like the one I purchased is very presuming in you, to say the least. And why must I not present a doll to Fronzy Pepper if I care to, pray tell, demanded Mrs. Chatterton in a high cold tone? Why, because you have always showed a marked dislike for the child, cried old Mr. King angrily, that's why, cousin Eunice, grand-papa, grand-papa," said Fronzy, laying her hand on his arm, and to parade any special affection, such as the presentation of a gift indicates, is a piece of presumption on your part, I say it again, cousin Eunice, grand-papa," said Fronzy again at his elbow. Now, Fronzy, turning to her, you are to take that doll, pointing to the gorgeous affair reposing on the sofa, with Mrs. Algernon Chatterton's card attached to it, and go over to Mrs. Chatterton, and say, very distinctly, I cannot accept this gift, mind you say it distinctly, Fronzy, that there may be no mistake in the future. Oh, grand-papa," cried Fronzy in dismay, yes, child, I know what is best for you, take that doll and do exactly as I bid you. A dreadful pause fell upon the room. Polly clasped her hands, while Alexia and the other girls huddled into a corner, saying softly, oh, how perfectly dreadful! No use to say anything to father when he looks like that, grown Jasper, when Polly besought him to try his influence. His blood is up now, he's born a good deal, you know Polly. Oh, dear, dear, whispered Polly back again. Just look at Mrs. Chatterton's face, and at poor Fronzy's, can't you do something, Jasper? I'm afraid not, said Jasper gloomily. No, he's making her give it back, see, Polly? You'll know it's for the best, Mr. King was repeating, as he led the child to Mrs. Chatterton standing cold and silent at the end of the room. Sometime, child, and then you'll thank me that I saved you from further annoyance of this sort. There, cousin Eunice, is your gift, taking the doll from Fronzy's hand and placing it in the long jolt one. My little granddaughter receives presents only from those who love her. All others are unwarranted and must be returned. Fronzy burst out tearfully. She's sorry, grand papa, I know she is, and she loves me now, please let me keep the doll. But Mrs. Chatterton had left the room, the doll, in her hand. End of CHAPTER XXIII. CHAPTER XXIV. AWAY. And after that, everybody had to be as gay as possible to keep Fronzy's sad little face from being flooded with tears. Dear me, exclaimed Jasper, here comes Candice. Now what do you suppose she has for you, Fronzy? Candice sailed through the doorway with ample satisfaction with everything and herself in particular. Where's little Miss? she demanded, her turban, nodding in all directions, and her black eyes rolling from side to side. There, Candice, said someone, over in the corner with Jasper. Oh, I see her! said Candice, waddling over to them. Well now, Fronzy, seeing you couldn't come to me for something, I made stresely for you. Why, Candice has come to you. See that now, child? She unrolled the parcel, disclosing the wonderful doll adorned with Candice's own hair and all Miss's ruffles. Then stood erect, her bosom swelling with pride and delight. Oh, my goodness me! exclaimed Alexia, tumbling back after the first and only glance, and nearly overturning Kathy, who was looking over her shoulder. Polly, Pepper, oh, dear me! Then she sat down on the floor and laughed till she cried. Hush, hush! cried Polly, running over to her. Do stop, Alexia, and get up. She'll hear you, and we wouldn't hurt her feelings for the world. Do stop, Alexia! Oh, dear me! cried Alexia, gustily, and holding her sides while she waved back and forth. If it had been a respectable doll, but that horror! Oh, dear me! Stop, stop! commanded Polly, shaking her arm. But Alexia was beyond stopping herself, and in between Candice's delighted recital, how she combed the hair to take the curl out, and how old Miss's ruffles was made into declos, came the peals of laughter that finally made everyone in the room stop and look at the girls. Candice, come into my den and get a pattern for some new pins I want you to make for me, cried Jasper, desperately dragging her off. It's no use to lecture me, said Alexia, sitting straight as Candice's feet shuffled down the hall and wiping her face exhaustedly. I know it was dreadful. Oh, dear me! Don't anybody speak to me, or I shall disgrace myself again. Now, Fronzie, what do you suppose we are to do next? Fronzie looked up into old Mr. King's face. I don't know, Grand Papa, she said, wonderingly. Well, now, my dear, you've had Punch and Judy, and these nice children waving his hand to indicate the delegation from the orphan asylum, have sung beautifully for you. What comes next, Fronzie? I don't know, Grand Papa, repeated Fronzie. When gifts become burdensome, they are no longer kindnesses, said Mr. King. Now, Fronzie, I have found out, never mind how, little birds, you know, sometimes fly around telling people things they ought to know. Well, I have discovered in some way that my little girl has too many children to care for. Here, Fronzie's brown eyes became very wide. And when there are too many children in the nest, Fronzie, why they have to go out into the world to try their fortunes and make other homes. Now, there are so many poor little girls who haven't any children, Fronzie, think of that, dear, and you have so many. Fronzie, at this, drew nearer and stole her hand into his. Now, what is to be done about it? asked the old gentleman, putting his other broad palm over her little one and holding it fast. Hey, my pet! Can't we buy them some children? asked Fronzie with warm interest. Oh, Grand Papa, dear, do let us, I have money in my bank. Fronzie, said the old man, going to the heart of the matter at once and lifting her to his lap. I really think the time has come to give away some of your dolls. I really do, child. Fronzie gave a start of incredulity and peered around at him. I really do. You are going abroad to be gone, well, we'll say, a year. And your dolls would be so lonely without anything to do, but sit all day and think of their little mother. And there are so many children who would love to make them happy. Now Mr. King's white hair was very near the yellow waves floating over his shoulder, so that none but Fronzie's ears caught the next words. It's right, Fronzie, dear, I'd do it if I were you, he said in a low voice. Do you want it, Grand Papa? asked Fronzie softly. I do, child, but not unless you are willing. Then I do, declared Fronzie, sitting quite straight on his knee, and she gave a relieved sigh. Oh, Grand Papa, if we only had the poor children now, she exclaimed, dreadfully excited. Come then, old Mr. King, set her on her feet. Clear the way there, good people, we are going to find some poor children who are waiting for dolls. And he threw wide the door into a back passage, and there presided over by jinx and crowding for the first entrance, was a score of children with outstretched hands. Oh, oh, exclaimed Fronzie with cheeks aflame. Please, he said we was to have dolls, cried one hungry-eyed girl, holding out both her hands. I've never had one, please give me one quick. Never had one? echoed Fronzie, taking a step toward her. Only a piece, miss. I found in a rag-barrel. Please give me one quick. She's never had a doll, only a piece, repeated Fronzie, turning back to the family, unable to contain this information. Ask the others if they've had any, said Mr. King, leaning against a tall cabinet. Try that girl there in a brown plaid dress. Have you ever had a doll? asked Fronzie obediently, looking over at the girl indicated, and holding her for breath for the answer. At this, the girl in the brown plaid dress burst into tears, which so distressed Fronzie that she nearly cried. Yes, but it died, said the girl after a little. Oh, grand-papa, her doll died! exclaimed Fronzie in horror. No, it didn't, Jane, corrected another girl. The dog at it, you know, he did. Yes, I know, said Jane between small sobs. It died, and we couldn't have any funeral, because the dog had at it. Well now, Fronzie, exclaimed Mr. King, getting away from the support of the cabinet. I think it's time we should make some of these children happy. Don't you want to take them up to the playroom and distribute the dolls? No, no, protested Fronzie suddenly. I must go up and tell my children. They will understand it better than grand-papa. I'll be back in a very few minutes, and going out she went quickly upstairs, and after a while returned with both arms full. This doll is for you, she said gravely, putting a doll attired in wonderful pink satin costume into Jane's arms. I've told her about your dog, and she's a little frightened, so please be careful. What's the fun down there now? asked Joel of Van, who, with Percy, could not be persuaded to leave his bedside a moment. Open the door, do, and let's hear it. So Van threw wide the door. Go out and listen, Percy, will you? he said. I don't want to, said Percy, who shared Van's wish to keep in the background. You two fellows act like muffs, said Joel. Now if you want me to get well, go out, do, and tell me what the fun is going on down there. So persuaded, the boys stole out into the hall, in time to see Fronzie go down the stairs with her arm full, and carefully using their ears they soon rushed back with Fronzie's giving away her dolls. Stuff and nonsense, exclaimed Joel, if you can't bring back anything better than that yarn you might as well stay here. But I tell you it's true, declared Van, isn't it, Percy? Yes it is, said Percy. I heard her distinctly say, this doll is for you, and she had her arms full, so I suppose she's going to give those away too. A likely story, said Joel, bursting into a laugh. At the noise up in the boys' room, Mother Fisher ran quickly over the stairs. Oh boys, what is it? Joel, are you worse? No indeed, said Joel. I was laughing. Percy and Van have been telling such a big story. Mamsey, they actually said that Fronzie was giving away her dolls. Is that all? cried Mrs. Fisher in relief. Well, so she is, Joel. Fronzie giving away her dolls, Mamsey, screamed Joel. Why, what does Grandpa Pa say? He's the very one that proposed it, said Mrs. Fisher. There, Joey, don't get excited, for I know what the doctor will say, as Joel sank back on his pillow, overcome by this last piece of news. When Fronzie went to bed that night, she clasped Mr. King's new gift to her breast. Grand Papa, dear, she said confidingly, as they went up the stairs together, do you know I really think more of this doll now that the others are gone? Really, I do, Grand Papa, and I can take better care of her because I shall have more time. So you will, dear, assented Mr. King. Well, Fronzie, I think you and I, dear, haven't made a bad day's work. I think my children will be happy, said Fronzie with a small sigh, because, you see, it's so nice to make good times for their new mothers. And, Grand Papa, I couldn't play with each one more than once a week. I used to try to, but I couldn't, Grand Papa. Why didn't you tell me, Fronzie? asked the old gentleman, a bit reproachfully, as they reached the top step. How was it, dear? You should have given them away long ago. Ah, but—said Fronzie, slowly shaking her head. I didn't want to give them away before, only just now, Grand Papa, and I think they will be happy, and now I'm going to take this newest one to bed, just as I used to take things to bed years ago when I was a little girl. And after all, there was an extension of time for the three boys' vacation Dr. Marx was not getting up from his sudden attack of fever as quickly as expected, but there came a day at last when Percy, Van, and David made Joel goodbye. It won't be for long, observed that individual cheerfully. You'll be back in three weeks. Oh, dear, grown Percy, when safe within the coach, we've ruined all his chances. He certainly will be plucked now with those three weeks to make up. Van gathered himself up and leaned forward in his corner. Don't look so, Dave, he cried desperately. Dave tried to smooth the troubled lines out of his face, but only succeeded in making it look worse than before. And it will kill Mrs. Fisher, Percy continued gloomily, if he does get plucked, as of course he will. Keep still, will you? cried Van, his irritation getting beyond bounds. What's the use of talking about a thing till it's done, which had the effect to make Percy remember his promise to Polly and close his mouth? But Joel's wound healed quicker than anyone supposed it possibly could. And Percy and Van, who both hated to write letters, gave up much time on the playground to indict daily bulletins, so that he declared that it was almost as good as being there on the spot. And Mother Fisher, and her army of servants, cleaned the great stone house from top to bottom and sorted and packed away, and made things tidy for the new housekeeper, who was to care for them in her absence till Dr. Fisher raised his eyebrows and hands in astonishment. I really must, he said one day, put in a remonstrance, wife, or you'll kill yourself before we start. Oh, I'm used to working, Mrs. Fisher would say cheerily, and then off she would fly to something so much worse that the little doctor was speechless. And Polly set herself at all her studies, especially French, with redoubled vigor, notwithstanding that she was hampered with the faithful attentions of the schoolgirls who fought among themselves for her company, and showered her with pathetic, Oh, dear me, how I shall miss you! and with tears when they got over it. And Jasper buried himself in his den, only bursting forth at mealtimes, and Mrs. Whitney bemoaned all preparations for the traveller's departure, and wished a thousand times that she had not given her promise to keep the house and look after the boys. And everybody who had the slightest claim to a calling acquaintance now dropped in upon the kings, and Polly had her goodbye party, and it was pronounced perfectly elegant by Alexia and her set, and the three boys came home for the long vacation, and in two days the party would sail. Who do you think is going abroad with us? asked Mr. King suddenly, as they all sat in the library for a last evening talk. Guess quickly, who cried several voices? Why, I thought you didn't want any outsider's father, exclaimed Jasper, in surprise. Well, and I didn't when I said so, but circumstances are changed now. Come, guess quickly, some one. The cabots, asked Jasper at a venture. No, no, guess again. Mr. Alastine? No, again. The Baileys, the Dices, the Herrings, shouted Mr. Whitney in van and Joel. No, I know, broken Percy, it's Mrs. Chatterton, with a quick glance to make sure she was not in the room. No, thundered Mr. King. Oh, how stupid people can be when they want to! Two persons are to meet us in New York tomorrow. I didn't tell you till I was sure. I had no desire that you should be disappointed. Now guess again? Auntie, do you know, asked Polly suddenly, leaning back as she sat on the rug in front of the fire, to lay her head in Mrs. Whitney's lap. No, I'm sure I don't, said Mrs. Whitney, stroking lightly the brown hair, with a pang, to think how long it would be before she should caress it again. How any one can desire to cross the ocean, remarked Mr. Whitney, folding his hands back of his head, and regarding meditatively the glowing fire, is more than I can see, that I shall never do it again, unless whipped over I'm morally certain. Are the persons men, asked Ben suddenly? One is, replied Mr. King. And the other is a woman. The other is a woman, said Mr. King. Well, what are their names? Isn't anybody smart enough to guess them? Dear me, I've always said that the peppers were remarkably bright, and the rest of you children are not behind the other young people. Go on, try again. Now, who are they? Polly took her head out of Mrs. Whitney's lap, and rested her chin and her hands. David, walking up and down the room, while Ben and the two Whitney boys hung over Mother Fisher's chair. Dear me, fumed Joel, whoever could guess, there's such a lot of people in the world the grand-papa knows, it might be any two of them, and he had asked. Little Dr. Fisher's eyes roved from one to the other of the group. I couldn't begin to guess, because I don't know many of your friends, he said quietly. You know these two people very well, said Mr. King laughing to see the little man's face. Now, but I think I know, said Jasper slowly, a light coming into his gray eyes, but I don't suppose it's fair to guess, for I saw the address on a letter Father was writing two or three weeks ago. You did, you young scamp you, cried Mr. King turning on him. Well, then, tisn't a guess for you, Jasper, keep still, my boy, and let them work away at it. Will no one guess? Mamsie, cried Polly, bounding up from the ring, nearly upsetting Franzi, who was sitting beside her in a brown study. Can it be, do you suppose it is nice, dear Mr. and Mrs. Henderson? Well, Polly, said Mr. King beaming at her, you've done what the others couldn't. Yes, it is Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, and they are going with us to stay until the autumn. Good, good! cried everyone till the big room seemed full of joy. Oh, Father! exclaimed Mrs. Whitney. I'm so glad you've done this. They were so kind to Dickie and to me when he was hurt. They were kind to Dickie and to you, said her father, and besides Marian, Mr. Henderson is a man who doesn't preach at you only once a week, and Mrs. Henderson is a fine woman, so it's a pity not to ease up things for them now and then. Well, how do you like the plan? he spoke to Dr. Fisher, but its gaze took them all in. Immensely, said the little doctor, which being again echoed heartily by all the rest. Old Mr. King began to feel very much elated at his part in the proceedings, and in a quarter of an hour it seemed as if the expedition had been especially planned for the benefit of the Henderson's, so naturally had it all come about. And on the morrow the whole family, Kings, Whitney's, Fishers, and Peppers, turned their backs on the Greystone mansion and went down to the city. And Alexia Riss persuaded her aunt to do her semi-annual shopping at this time and to take her too, and Mr. Alastine also had business that necessitated his going, and Mr. Cavett and Mary Taylor, and her father found that they must go along too, and Hamilton Dice was there, and Pickering Dodge, of course, went to be company for Ben on the way back, and at the last moment who should jump on the train but Livingston Bailey? Had a telegram, he explained, must be there at noon, so glad of the unexpected pleasure of meeting you all. And cousin Eunice Chatterton went, for, at the last minute, she had suddenly discovered that she had visited at the Greystone mansion as long as she cared to, and notified the family accordingly, and Mr. King had so far made up for his part in the late unpleasantness as to ask her to go with the party on her way to her nephews in the city, so there she was with the others bidding them good-bye on the steamer. Franzi, she said slowly, under the cover of the Babble of Tongues, You are a good child, and I have done well by you. This little bit of paper, putting it into her hands, contains a message to Mr. King which you are to give to him after you have started. I will go over and give it to him now, said Franzi, her fingers closing over the bit. No, no, said Mrs. Chatterton sharply. Do as I say, remember, on no account to let anyone see it till after you have started. You are a good child, Franzi. Now remember to do as you are bidden, and now will you kiss me, child? Franzi lifted her eyes and fixed them on the long white face, and suddenly raising herself on her tiptoes, she put up her lips. Look at Fron, cried Joel in the midst of the group, actually kissing Mrs. Chatterton, and everybody turned and stared. Cousin Eunice dropped her veil with a quick hand and moved off with a stately step, but not in time to lose young Bailey's straw. Pond my word, it's the most extraordinary thing. Franzi, come here and tell us what was like. But Franzi stood quite still as if she had not heard. Yes, I hope you'll have a nice time, Pickering Dodge was saying for the dozenth time, with his eyes for no one but Polly. Now don't stay away for a year. Polly, with her heart full of the boys, who were hanging on either side, answered at random, Open, I can't go! she was exclaiming, and she hid her head on the shoulder, so Pickering turned off. But Joel said his teeth together. You must, he said, for Ben was beyond speech with the effort to control himself. I can't, said poor Polly, leave you, Ben and the boys. And then Mrs. Whitney came up just as Polly was near breaking down. My dear child, she said, taking Polly's hands, you know it is right for you to go. Yes, I know, said Polly, fighting her tears. Then Polly, be brave, dear, and don't begrudge me, my three new boys, she added playfully. Just think how happy I'm to be with six such splendid fellows to call my own. Polly smiled through her tears. And one thing more, said Mrs. Whitney in a low voice, when you feel badly looking steadily at Polly and the three boys, remember what Dr. Fisher said, that if your mother didn't stop working in rest, she would break down. I'll remember, said Ben Horsley. So will I, said David. And I will, said Joel, looking everywhere but into Polly's eyes. Will I hope, Miss Polly, said the young Mr. Bailey, sauntering up, that you'll have an uncommonly nice time, I do indeed. I may run across in September if I do, we shall probably meet. Miss Mary Pepper? Suddenly asked a man with a huge basket of flowers and pausing in front of her. Young Mr. Bailey smiled indulgently, as he could not help reading the card thrust into the flowers. She will receive my flowers at intervals all the way over, if the steward doesn't fail me, he reflected with satisfaction. While this boys will fade in one hour. Miss Mary Pepper? The florist's messenger repeated, extending the basket to Polly. It's for you, Miss Polly, said young Mr. Bailey. Let me relieve you, taking the basket. Oh, are they for me? I believe you are, Miss Mary Pepper, said young Bailey. Pretty aren't they, fingering the roses, and glad to think that there were orchids among the flowers to which his card was attached, and just placed under the steward's care. I suppose I am, said Polly with a little laugh, but it seems as if I couldn't be anything but Polly Pepper. Oh, thank you, Pickering, for these lovely roses catching sight of him. Glad you like them, said Pickering radiantly. Say, Polly, don't stay away a whole year, will you? Young Mr. Bailey set the basket in his hand, and turned on his heel with a smile. Come, Polly, I want you, cried Alexia, trying to draw her off. You know she's my very best friend, Pickering, and I haven't had a chance to say one word to her this morning. Come, Polly. Polly, come here, called Mrs. Fisher. Oh, dear, cried Alexia impatiently. Now that's just the way it always is. It's Polly here and Polly there, as Polly deserted her and ran off with her basket of roses. You don't do any of the calling, of course, said Pickering with a laugh. Well, I'll have her to myself, declared Alexia savagely, before it's time for us to get off the steamer and see if I don't. I don't believe it, said Pickering. Look at her now in a maelstrom of relatives. You and I, Alexia, are left out. And the next thing Alexia knew, somebody unceremoniously helped her from the steamer with a beg-pardon-miss-but-you-must-get-off. And she was standing on the wharf in a crowd of people, looking in a dazed way at Polly Pepper's fluttering handkerchief, while fast-increasing little ripples of greenish water lay between them. And Fronzie was running up to Mr. King. Here, grand-papa, Mrs. Chatterton wanted me to give you this. Unclasping her warm little palm where the bit of white paper lay, the dickens she did exclaim the old gentleman. So she has had a last word with you, has she? Well, she won't get another for a long spell, so never mind. Now let's see what Cousin Eunice says. Something interesting, no doubt. He spread the crumpled bit straight and read. Fronzie standing quite still by his side. Cousin Horatio. I have made Fronzie Pepper my sole heir. You may like it or not, as you please. The thing is done, and may God bless Fronzie. Eunice Chatterton. By Margaret Sidney.