Part 61 (2/2)

”You couldn't, you sweet thing, you!” and gave her a rea.s.suring hug.

”Well, just look at Mr. Dyce, and hear him laugh!”

And Mr. Hamilton Dyce being unable to keep his delight within bounds, and seeming to think it inc.u.mbent upon himself to take the young people into his confidence, just coolly announced it. And then there was no more paying attention to the cakes, and the little biscuits, the custards, and the whipped cream; and even Alexia's nut candy went begging.

And Miss Mary had to sit in the center of each group of boys and girls, a few minutes at a time, for the supper was pa.s.sed around on trays, till Mr.

Dyce said he wished he hadn't told the news until the feast was ended. And after that, when they all finished up the evening festivities with a dance, why, every one there, tried to get her for first partner. But it was Alexia who swept them all one side.

”She's my Sunday-school teacher,” she declared, ”and I shall have her first.”

”Well, so she is our Sunday-school teacher,” cried half a dozen of the girls at once, as they crowded up.

”Well, she's my very dearest friend--that is, except Polly Pepper,” said Alexia positively. ”Come, Miss Mary”--hanging obstinately to her hand, on which shone a new ring with a big, bright gem in it.

”Well, you said Miss Salisbury was,” Pickering Dodge, on the fringe of the circle of girls, couldn't help saying.

”Oh, well, I mean Miss Mary is my very dearest friend after that,” said Alexia coolly, tossing him a saucy glance, as she bore off her beloved Sunday-school teacher down the whole length of Mrs. Keep's drawing-room floor.

XXVIII

THE LITTLE STONE CUPBOARD

Phronsie ran down the hall.

”Oh, Mamsie!” she cried, hurrying into

Mrs. Fisher's room, ”Grandpapa says she is coming--she really is!” She clasped her hands and stood quite still in front of her mother.

”Who, dear?” asked Mrs. Fisher absently. She was standing over by the window, with one of Phronsie's pinafores in her hand and wondering if any more were needed to carry her through the summer.

”She really is, Mamsie,” said Phronsie, very much disappointed that her mother didn't seem to notice. Then her mouth drooped, and she gave a long sigh.

Mrs. Fisher tore her mind off from the pinafores and looked down quickly.

”Well, I declare, child;” and she took her in her arms. ”Now, then!” She put the pinafore in a chair, and herself in another; then she drew Phronsie into her lap. ”Tell Mother all about it,” she said.

”Yes,” said Phronsie, ”I will”--snuggling in great satisfaction up against her mother's neck: ”you see, my little girl is really coming; Grandpapa said so.”

”Oh, yes--Rachel.”

”Yes.” Phronsie bobbed her yellow head; then took it up from its resting-place in her mother's neck, to peer up into the face above. ”And she'll be my little girl all the time she is here, and I must get Clorinda fixed this very minute,” she added, dreadfully excited. And, her news all told, Phronsie clambered down from Mrs. Fisher's lap and scurried off.

And in a few minutes everybody knew all over the house that the letter had come, in which the invitation for Rachel's visit had been accepted by Miss Parrott. Moreover, she was to arrive on the following day.

”Whoopity-la!” sang Joel, who very much liked Rachel, for she was always ready to play anything that he proposed, and was a perfect adept in climbing trees and inventing a circus out of small material; ”now that's just prime! I wish she was coming to-day.”

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