Part 40 (1/2)

”Twon't,” answered Polly, hopping around on one toe, followed by Phronsie, ”till mamsie and the boys get here, Jasper King!”

”Well, they'll be here soon,” said j.a.ppy, pleased at Polly's exultation over it, ”for we're going to-morrow to do the inviting.”

”And Polly's to write a note to slip into Marian's,” said Mr. King, putting his head in at the door. ”And if you want your mother to come, child, why, you'd better mention it as strong as you can.”

”I'm going to write,” said Phronsie, pulling up after a prolonged skip, all out of breath. ”I'm going to write, and beg mamsie dear. Then she'll come, I guess.”

”I guess she will,” said Mr. King, looking at her. ”You go on, Phronsie, and write; and that letter shall go straight in my coat pocket alone by itself.”

”Shall it?” asked Phronsie, coming up to him, ”and n.o.body will take it out till you give it to mamsie?”

”No, n.o.body shall touch it,” said the old gentleman, stooping to kiss the upturned face, ”till I put it into her own hand.”

”Then,” said Phronsie, in the greatest satisfaction, ”I'm going to write this very one minute!” and she marched away to carry her resolve into immediate execution.

Before they got through they had quite a bundle of invitations and pleadings; for each of the three boys insisted on doing his part, so that when they were finally done up in an enormous envelope and put into Mr. King's hands, he told them with a laugh that there was no use for j.a.ppy and himself to go, as those were strong enough to win almost anybody's consent.

However, the next morning they set off, happy in their hopes, and bearing the countless messages, which the children would come up every now and then to intrust to them, declaring that they had forgotten to put them in the letters.

”You'd had to have had an express wagon to carry the letters if you had put them all in,” at last cried Jasper. ”You've given us a bushel of things to remember.”

”And oh! don't forget to ask Ben to bring Cherry,” cried Polly, the last minute as they were driving off although she had put it in her letter at least a dozen times; ”and oh, dear! of course the flowers can't come.”

”We've got plenty here,” said Jasper. ”You would not know what to do with them, Polly.”

”Well, I do wish mamsie would give some to kind Mrs. Henderson, then,”

said Polly, on the steps, clasping her hands anxiously, while Jasper told Thomas to wait till he heard the rest of the message, ”and to grandma--you know Grandma Bascom; she was so good to us,” she said impulsively. ”And, oh! don't let her forget to carry some to dear, dear Dr. Fisher; and don't forget to give him our love, j.a.ppy; don't forget that!” and Polly ran down the steps to the carriage door, where she gazed up imploringly to the boy's face.

”I guess I won't,” cried Jasper, ”when I think how he saved your eyes, Polly! He's the best fellow I know!” he finished in an impulsive burst.

”And don't let mamsie forget to carry some in to good old Mr. and Mrs.

Beebe in town--where Phronsie got her shoes, you know; that is, if mamsie can,” she added, remembering how very busy her mother would be.

”I'll carry them myself,” said Jasper; ”we're going to stay over till the next day, you know.”

”O!” cried Polly, radiant as a rose, ”will you, really, j.a.ppy? you're so good!”

”Yes, I will,” said Jasper, ”everything you want done, Polly; anything else?” he asked, quickly, as Mr. King, impatient to be off, showed unmistakable symptoms of hurrying up Thomas.

”Oh, no,” said Polly, ”only do look at the little brown house, Jasper, as much as you can,” and Polly left the rest unfinished. Jasper seemed to understand, however, for he smiled brightly as he said, looking into the brown eyes, ”I'll do it all, Polly; every single thing.” And then they were off.

Mamsie and the boys! could Polly ever wait till the next afternoon that would bring the decision?

Long before it was possibly time for the carriage to come back from the depot, Polly, with Phronsie and the three boys, who, improving Jasper's absence, had waited upon her with the grace and persistence of cavaliers of the olden time, were drawn up at the old stone gateway.

”Oh, dear,” said Van with an impatient fling; ”they never will come!”

”Won't they, Polly?” asked Phronsie, anxiously, and standing quite still.