Part 56

"You must talk to him," said Jasper, raising his head. It filled Polly with dismay to see his face. "Get him in here; I'll bring him over and then clear out of the den."

"Oh Jasper!" exclaimed Polly, quite aghast. "I couldn't talk to Pickering Dodge. Why, he wouldn't listen to me."

"Yes, he would," declared Jasper eagerly; "he thinks everything of you, Polly, and if you'll say the word, it will do more good than anything else. Do, Polly," he begged.

"But, Jasper," began Polly, a little white line coming around her mouth, "what would he think to have me talk to him about his lessons?"

"Think?" repeated Jasper, "why, he'd like it, Polly, and it will be the very thing that will help him."

"Oh, I can't!" cried Polly, twisting her fingers. Then she broke out passionately, "Oh, he ought to be ashamed of himself not to study; and there's that nice Mr. Cabot, and his aunt--"

"Aunt!" exclaimed Jasper explosively. "Polly, I do believe if he hadn't her picking at him all the time, he would try harder."

"Well, his uncle is different," said Polly, her indignation by no means dying out.

"Yes, but it's his aunt who makes the mischief. Honestly, Polly, I don't believe I could stand her," said Jasper, in a loyal burst.

"No, I don't believe I could either," confessed Polly.

"And you see, when a boy has such a home, no matter what they give him, why, he doesn't have the ambition that he would if things were different. Just think, Polly, not to have one's own father or mother."

"Oh Jasper!" cried Polly, quite overcome. "I'll do it, I will."

"Polly!" Jasper seized her hands, and held them fast, his dark eyes glowing. "Oh Polly, that's so awfully good of you!"

"And you better run right over, and get him now," said Polly, speaking very fast, "or I may run away, I shall get so scared."

"You won't run away, I'll be bound," cried Jasper, bursting into a merry laugh, and rushing off with a light heart. And presently, in less time than one could imagine, though to Polly it seemed an age, back he came, Pickering with him, all alive with curiosity to know what Polly Pepper wanted of him.

"It's about the play, I suppose," he began, lolling into an easy-chair; "Jasper wouldn't tell me what it's all about; only seized me by the ear, and told me to come on. Draw up your chair, Jasper, and--why, hullo! where is the chap?" swinging his long figure around to stare.

"Pickering," began Polly; and the den, usually the pleasantest place in all the house, was now like a prison, whose walls wouldn't let her breathe, "I don't know what to say. Oh dear me!" Poor Polly could get no further, but sat there in hopeless misery, looking at him.

"Eh--what? Oh, beg pardon," exclaimed Pickering, whirling back in his chair, "but things are so very queer; first Jasper rushes off like a lunatic--"

"And I am worse," said Polly, at last finding her tongue. "I don't wonder you think it's queer, Pickering, but Jasper does so love you, and it will just kill him if you don't study." It was all out now, and in the most dreadful way. And feeling that she had quite destroyed all hope, Polly sat up pale and stiff in her chair.

Pickering threw his long figure out of the easy-chair, rushed up and down the den with immense strides, and came back to stand directly in front of her.

"Do you mean it, Polly?" His long face was working badly, and his hands were clenched, but as they were thrust deep within his pockets, Polly couldn't see them.

"Yes," said Polly, "I do, Pickering."

He stalked off again, but was back once more, Polly wondering how she could possibly bear to tell Jasper of her failure, for of course Pickering was very angry; when he said, "Polly, I want to tell you something."

"What is it?" Polly looked at him sharply, and caught her breath.

"I won't drag Jasper down, I tell you, with me. I'll get through somehow at school. I promise you that. Here!" He twitched out his right hand from its pocket, and thrust it out at her.

"Oh Pickering Dodge!" exclaimed Polly in a transport, and seizing his hand, it was shaken vigorously.

"There, that's a bargain," declared Pickering solemnly. "I'll get through someway. And say, Polly, it was awfully good of you to speak."

"It was awfully hard," said Polly, drawing a long breath. "Oh, are you sure you are not vexed, Pickering? Very sure?" And Polly's face drooped anxiously.