Part 64

“Be still,” said Jappy warningly, while Phronsie stood surveying them all with grave eyes.

“Well, I asked him, 'Don't you want to see Phronsie Pepper, Prince?' And do you know, he just stood right upon his hind legs, Phronsie, and said: 'Bark! yes, Bark! Bark!'”

“Did he really, Jasper?” cried Phronsie, delighted beyond measure; and clasping her hands in rapture, “all alone by himself?”

“Yes, all alone by himself,” asserted Jasper, vehemently, and winking furiously to the others to stop their laughing; “he did now, truly, Phronsie.”

“Then mustn't I go and see him now, Jasper? yes, pretty soon now?”

“So you must,” cried Jasper, enchanted at his success in amusing; “and I'll go with you.”

“Oh, no,” cried Phronsie, shaking her yellow head. “Oh no, Jasper; I must go by my very own self.”

“There Jap, you've caught it,” laughed Percy; while the others screamed at the sight of Jasper's face.

“Oh Phronsie!” cried Polly, turning around at the last words; “how could you!”

“Don't mind it, Polly,” whispered Jasper; “twasn't her fault.”

“Phronsie,” said Mrs. Whitney, smilingly, stooping over the child, “would you like to see a little pussy I have for you?”

But the chubby face didn't look up brightly, as usual: and the next moment, without a bit of warning, Phronsie sprang past them all, even Polly, and flung herself into Mr. King's arms, in a perfect torrent of sobs. “Oh! let's go back!” was all they heard!

“Dear me!” ejaculated the old gentleman, in the utmost amazement; “and such a time as I've had to get her here too!” he added, staring around on the astonished group, none of whom had a word to say.

But Polly stood like a statue! All Jasper's frantic efforts at comfort, utterly failed. To think that Phronsie had left her for any one!--even good Mr. King! The room seemed to buzz, and everything to turn upside down--and just then, she heard another cry--“Oh, I want Polly, I do!”

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 space 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,” assented 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.”