Part 73

And little Dick, when he could lose sight of the fact that he wasn't next to Phronsie instead of Helen Fargo, snuggled up contentedly against Mother Fisher, and applauded everything straight through.

And old Mr. King protested that he was perfectly satisfied with the whole thing, which was saying the most that could be expressed for the quality of the entertainment; and he took particular pains to applaud Tom Beresford, who looked very handsome, and acquitted himself well.

"I must," said Tom to himself, although quaking inwardly, "for they've all been so good to me--and for Joel's sake!" So he sang at his very best. And he played his banjo merrily, and he was encored and encored; and Joel was as proud as could be, which did Tom good to see.

And Percy--well, the tears of joy came into his mother's eyes, for it wasn't easy for him to learn pieces, nor in fact to apply himself to study at all. But no one would have suspected it to see him now on that stage. And Grandpapa King was so overjoyed that he called "Bravo--bravo!" ever so many times, which carried Percy on triumphantly over the difficult spots where he had been afraid he should slip.

"If only his father could hear him!" sighed Mrs. Whitney in the midst of her joy, longing as she always did for the time when the father could finish those trips over the sea, for his business house.

Polly had made Jasper consent, which he did reluctantly, to give his recitation before she played; insisting that music was really better for a finale. And she listened with such delight to the applause that he received--for ever so many of the audience said it was the gem of the whole--that she quite forgot to be nervous about her own performance; and she played her nocturne with such a happy heart, thinking over the lovely evening, and how the money would be, oh, such a heap to take down on the morrow to the poor brakeman's home, that Jasper was turning the last page of her music--and the entertainment was at an end!

Polly hopped off from the music stool. There was a great clapping all over the room, and Grandpapa called out, "Yes, child, play again," so there was nothing for Polly to do but to hop back again and give them another selection. And then they clapped harder yet; but Polly shook her brown head, and rushed off the stage.

And then, of course, Grandpapa gave them, as he always did, a fine party to wind up the evening with. And the camp chairs were folded up and carried off, and a company of musicians came into the alcove in the spacious hall, and all through the beautiful, large apartments festivity reigned!

"Look at the old cat," said Tom in a smothered aside to Joel, his next neighbor in the "Sir Roger de Coverley." "Isn't she a sight!"

"I don't want to," said Joel, with a grimace, "and it's awfully mean in you, Tom, to ask me."

"I know it," said Tom penitently, "but I can't keep my eyes off from her. How your grandfather can stand it, Pepper, I don't see."

And a good many other people were asking themselves the same question, Madam Dyce among the number, to whom Mrs. Chatterton was just remarking, "Cousin Horatio is certainly not the same man."

"No," replied Madam Dyce distinctly, "he is infinitely improved; so approachable now."

"You mistake me," Mrs. Chatterton said angrily, "I mean there is the greatest change come over him; it's lamentable, and all brought about by his inexplicable infatuation over those low-born Pepper children and their designing mother."

"Mrs. Chatterton," said Madam Dyce--she could be quite as stately as Mr. King's cousin, and as she felt in secure possession of the right in the case, she was vastly more impressive--"I am not here to go over this question, nor shall I discuss it anywhere with you. You know my mind about it. I only wish I had the Peppers--yes, every single one of them," warmed up the old lady,--"in my house, and that fine woman, their mother, along with them."

XX THE CORCORAN FAMILY

And on the morrow--oh, what a heap of money there was for the poor brakeman's family!--four hundred and twelve dollars. For a good many people had fairly insisted on paying twice the amount for their tickets; and a good many more had paid when they couldn't take tickets at all, going out of town, or for some other good reason.

And one old lady, a great friend of the family, sent for Polly Pepper the week before. And when Polly appeared before the big lounge,--for Mrs. Sterling was lifted from her bed to lie under the sofa-blankets all day,--she said, "Now, my dear, I want to take some tickets for that affair of yours. Gibbons, get my check-book."

So Gibbons, the maid, brought the check-book, and drew up the little stand with the writing-case upon it close to the lounge, and Mrs. Sterling did a bit of writing; and presently she held out a long green slip of paper.

"Oh!" cried Polly, in huge delight, "I've never had one for my very own self before." There it was, "Polly Pepper," running clear across its face. And "Oh!" with wide eyes, when she saw the amount, "twenty-five dollars!"

"Haven't you so?" said Mrs. Sterling, greatly pleased to be the first in one of Polly's pleasures.

"Oh!" cried Polly again, "twenty-five dollars!" And she threw herself down before the lounge, and dropped a kiss upon the hand that had made all this happiness for the brakeman's poor children.

"Well now, Polly, tell me all about it," said Mrs. Sterling, with a glow at her heart warm enough to brighten many a long invalid day. "Gibbons, get a cricket for Miss Mary."

"Oh, may I sit here?" begged Polly eagerly, as Gibbons, placing the little writing-case back into position, now approached with the cricket; "it's so cosey on the floor."

"Why, yes, if you don't wish the cricket," said Mrs. Sterling with a little laugh, "and I remember when I was your age it was my greatest delight to sit on the floor."

"It is mine," said Polly, snuggling up to the sofa-blankets.

Mrs. Sterling put out her thin hand, and took Polly's rosy palm. "Now begin, dear," she said, with an air of content, and looking down into the bright face.

So Polly, realizing that here perhaps was need for help, quite as much as in the poor brakeman's home, though in a different way, told the whole story, how the two clubs, the Salisbury School Club and the boys' club, had joined together to help Jim Corcoran's children; how they had had a big meeting at Jasper's house, and promised each other to take hold faithfully and work for that object.