Part 37 (1/2)

With a bound, Polly was at Mr. King's side, with her face on his coat, close to the little tear-stained one. The fat, little arms unclasped their hold, and transferred themselves willingly to Polly's neck; and Phronsie hugged up comfortingly to Polly's heart, who poured into her ear all the loving words she had so longed to say.

Just then there was a great rush and a scuffling noise; and something rushed up to Phronsie ”Oh!” And then the next minute, she had her arms around Prince's neck, too, who was jumping all over her and trying as hard as he could, to express his overwhelming delight.

”She's the cunningest little thing I ever saw,” said Mrs. Whitney, enthusiastically, afterward, aside to Mr. King. ”Such lovely yellow hair, and such exquisite brown eyes--the combination is very striking.

How did her mother ever let her go?” she asked impulsively, ”I didn't believe you could persuade her, father.”

”I didn't have any fears, if I worked it rightly,” said the old gentleman complacently. ”I wasn't coming without her, Marian, if it could possibly be managed. The truth is, that Phronsie had been pining for Polly to such an extent, that there was no other way but for her to have Polly; and her mother was just on the point, although it almost killed her, of sending for Polly--as if we should have let her go!” he cried in high dudgeon; just as if he owned the whole of the Peppers, and could dispose of them all to suit his fancy! ”So you see, I was just in time; in the very nick of time, in fact!”

”So her mother was willing?” asked his daughter, curiously. ”Oh, she couldn't help it,” cried Mr. King, beginning to walk up and down the floor, and beaming as he recalled his successful strategy; ”there wasn't the smallest use in thinking of anything else. I told her 'twould just stop Polly from ever being a musician if she broke off now--and so 'twould, you know yourself, Marian, for we should never get the child here again, if we let her go now; and I talked--well, I had to talk some; but, well--the upshot is I did get her, and I did bring her--and here she is!” And the old gentleman was so delighted with his success, that he had to burst out into a series of short, happy bits of laughter, that occupied quite a s.p.a.ce of time. At last he came out of them, and wiped his face vigorously.

”And to think how fond the little girl is of you, father!” said Mrs.

Whitney, who hadn't yet gotten over her extreme surprise at the old gentleman's complete subjection to the little Peppers: he, whom all children had by instinct always approached so carefully, and whom every one found it necessary to conciliate!

”Well, she's a nice child,” he said, ”a very nice child; and,”

straightening himself up to his fullest height, and looking so very handsome, that his daughter could not conceal her admiration, ”I shall always take care of Phronsie Pepper, Marian!”

”So I hope,” said Mrs. Whitney; ”and father, I do believe they'll repay you; for I do think there's good blood there; these children have a look about them that shows them worthy to be trusted.”

”So they have: so they have,” a.s.sented Mr. King, and then the conversation dropped.

PHRONSIE

Phronsie was toiling up and down the long, oak staircase the next morning; slowly going from one step to the other, drawing each little fat foot into place laboriously, but with a pleased expression on her face that only gave some small idea of the rapture within. Up and down she had been going for a long time, perfectly fascinated; seeming to care for nothing else in the world but to work her way up to the top of the long flight, only to turn and come down again. She had been going on so for some time, till at last, Polly, who was afraid she would tire herself all out, sat down at the foot and begged and implored the little girl, who had nearly reached the top, to stop and rest.

”You'll be tired to death, Phronsie!” she said, looking up at the small figure on its toilsome journey. ”Why you must have gone up a million times! Do sit down, pet; we're all going out riding, Phronsie, this afternoon; and you can't go if you're all tired out.”

”I won't be tired, Polly,” said Phronsie, turning around and looking at her, ”do let me go just once more!”

”Well,” said Polly, who never could refuse her anything, ”just once, Phronsie, and then you must stop.”

So Phronsie kept on her way rejoicing, while Polly still sat on the lowest stair, and drummed impatiently on the stair above her, waiting for her to get through.

j.a.ppy came through the hall and found them thus. ”Halloa, Polly!” he said, stopping suddenly; ”what's the matter?”

”Oh, Phronsie's been going so,” said Polly, looking up at the little figure above them, which had nearly reached the top in delight, ”that I can't stop her. She has really, j.a.ppy, almost all the morning; you can't think how crazy she is over it.”

”Is that so?” said Jasper, with a little laugh. ”Hulloa, Phronsie, is it nice?” and he tossed a kiss to the little girl, and then sat down by Polly.

”Oh,” said Phronsie, turning to come down, ”it's the beyew-tiflest place I ever saw, Jasper! the very be-yew-tiflest!”

”I wish she could have her picture painted,” whispered Jasper, enthusiastically. ”Look at her now, Polly, quick!”

”Yes,” said Polly, ”isn't she sweet!”

”Sweet!” said Jasper. ”I should think she was!”

The sunlight through an oriel window fell on the childish face and figure, glinting the yellow hair, and lighting up the radiant face, that yet had a tender, loving glance for the two who waited for her below.