Part 5 (1/2)

Polly gave a quick glance at Phronsie. ”Phronsie dear,” she said, ”let us go up to our deck now, dear. Shall we?”

”Oh, no, Polly, please don't go yet,” begged Phronsie, in alarm, and patting the baby softly with a gentle little hand. Polly looked off at Grandpapa. He was placidly surveying the water, his eyes occasionally roving over the novel and interesting sights around. On the other side of the deck a returning immigrant was bringing out a jew's-harp, and two or three of his fellow-pa.s.sengers were preparing to pitch quoits.

Old Mr. King was actually smiling at it all. Polly hadn't seen him so contented since they sailed.

”I guess I'll tell another one, Jasper,” she said. ”Oh, about a dog, you wanted, did you?” nodding at the biggest boy.

”Yes,” said the boy, bobbing his tow head, ”I did;” and he unfolded and folded his hands back again, then waited patiently.

So Polly flew off on a gay little story about a dog that bade fair to rival Grandma Bascom's cat for cleverness. He belonged to Mr. Atkins who kept store in Badgertown, and the Pepper children used to see a good deal of him, when they took home the sacks and coats that Mamsie sewed for the storekeeper. And in the midst of the story, when the stolid steerage children were actually laughing over the antics of that remarkable dog, Jasper glanced up toward the promenade deck, took a long look, and started to his feet. ”Why, Polly Pepper, see!” He pointed upward. There, on the curve, were old Mr. Selwyn and Tom walking arm in arm.

IV

STEAMER LIFE

And after that, it was ”My grandson, Thomas,” on all occasions, the old gentleman introducing the boy to the right and to the left, as he paraded the deck, his old arm within the younger one. And the little, sharp black eyes snapped proudly and the white head was held up, as he laughed and chattered away sociably to the pa.s.sengers and the s.h.i.+p's crew, at every good opportunity.

”Yes, my grandson, Thomas, is going back to school. We've been running about in your country a bit, and the boy's mother went home first with the other children--” Polly heard him say as the two paused in front of her steamer chair.

”Indeed!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs. Vanderburgh, as he addressed her, and raising her eyebrows with a supercilious glance for his plain, unprepossessing appearance. ”Yes, Madam, and glad shall I be to set my foot on Old England again Hey, Tom, my boy, don't you say so?”

Tom looked off over the sea, but did not speak.

Neither did Mrs. Vanderburgh answer, but turned her face away in disdain that was very plainly marked.

”Home is the best place, Madam,” declared old Mr. Selwyn emphatically.

”Well, Old England is our home, and nothing will induce me to leave it again, I can a.s.sure you.”

Again Mrs. Vanderburgh did not reply, but looked him up and down in cold silence. Old Mr. Selwyn, not appearing to notice, chattered on. At last she deliberately turned her back on him.

”Isn't he common and horrid?” whispered f.a.n.n.y Vanderburgh, in the steamer chair next to Polly, thrusting her face in between her and her book. And she gave a little giggle.

”Hus.h.!.+” said Polly, warningly, ”he will hear you.”

”Nonsense--it's impossible; he is rattling on so; and do look at Mamma's face!”

He didn't hear, but Tom did; and he flashed a glance--dark and wrathful--over at the two girls, and started forward, abruptly pulling his Grandfather along.

”O dear me!” exclaimed Polly, in distress, dropping her book in her lap; ”now he _has_ heard.”

”Oh, that dreadful boy,” said f.a.n.n.y, carelessly, stretching out in her steamer chair comfortably; ”well, who cares? he's worse than his Grandfather.”

”Yes, he has heard,” repeated Polly, sorrowfully looking after the two, Tom still propelling the old gentleman along the deck at a lively rate; ”now, what shall we do?”

”It isn't of the least consequence if he has heard,” reiterated f.a.n.n.y, ”and Mamma has been frightfully bored, I know. Do tell us, Mamma,” she called.

Mrs. Vanderburgh turned away from the rail, where she had paused in her const.i.tutional when addressed by the old gentleman, and came up to the girls.

”Do sit down, Mamma, in your steamer chair,” begged f.a.n.n.y; ”I'll tuck you up in your rug.” And she jumped lightly out of her own chair.