Part 62 (2/2)

”No such thing,” declared Joel st.u.r.dily; ”if you say so again, I'll fight you.”

”And perhaps you can straighten that lace,” suggested Percy, with no relish for any further hostilities.

Van and Joel drew off to the foot of the bed, and huddled up there to regard his efforts, as he ran around to the pillows, patting and smoothing them straight.

”That won't do any good,” said Joel, in great disfavor; ”you can't make the lace whole again.”

Van sorrowfully embraced his knees, his feet tucked up under him.

”Oh, what will Jane say?” he breathed fearfully.

”Jane? I don't care for her,” said Joel scornfully. ”It's Mamsie,” and he swallowed hard.

”Perhaps she won't care,” cried Van, leaving his knees to take care of themselves, in alarm lest Joel was going off again.

”And just see how you've mussed up the bedspread,” Percy couldn't help saying, to relieve his chagrin over the failure to make the pillow shams look nicely, and he drew off and pointed to it tragically. ”It looks as if crocodiles had been all over it,” he declared, hunting for the worst thing he could think of.

Joel and Van rolled fearful eyes all over the bed.

”I'm going to Mamsie!” was all Joel said, as he rolled over the edge and disappeared from the room.

”Oh, wait,” screamed Van. Then he rolled off his side of the bed, took two big steps, and stood quite still in the middle of the floor.

”You've got to go with him and help tell,” said Percy pleasantly, as if proposing the most delightful thing. But Van didn't stir.

”Aren't you ashamed!” cried Percy, with a sniff. ”I'd like to know if Polly will think it's nice for you to sneak out of it, Van Whitney.”

”Ow!” squealed Van. He shot out into the hall, and without giving himself time to think, ran as hard as he could to join Joel in Mother Fisher's room.

Left to himself, Percy set himself to work on straightening the bedspread, running around from one side to the other to pat and twitch impatiently.

”As soon as I get one side nice, it all comes away from the other,” he said to himself. ”How in the world does Jane ever make a bed, I wonder?” And at last he deserted it altogether and drew off with a very hot face.

”Heigh-ho! I wish we could do something to celebrate when Rachel comes,”

and he wrinkled his brows in perplexity. ”Oh, I know,” and he clapped his hands in glee. Then he ran softly out and up to Ben's room.

But Ben wasn't in; so Percy, nearly bursting with a plan that now seemed to him very grand, was obliged to take some one else into his confidence. And that one happened to be old Mr. King, whom he met as he came downstairs with a very rueful countenance.

”What's the matter, Percy?” asked the old gentleman, with a keen glance.

”Nothing, Grandpapa,” said Percy dismally.

”Goodness me! Do you carry about such a face as that for nothing?” cried the old gentleman, with a laugh. ”You look as if you'd something on your mind, my boy.”

”Well, I have, Grandpapa,” said Percy, now driven into a corner, and looking up at last.

”Best have it out then,” said Grandpapa firmly, taking one of Percy's hands, and they went on to the writing-room.

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