Ben Pepper Part 35

"Then run and get the others," said Ben, with a little pat on her back.

"And you go, too, Alexia, that's a good girl."

"Of course, I will," said Alexia, "if Polly is going."

And almost as soon as one could write it, there they all were in a group on the big rug before the library fire, and Grandpapa in his easy-chair, smiling down at his family.

And little Doctor Fisher looked in to say that Jasper had stood the journey re-_mar_kably well, that he was now fast asleep, and that to-morrow he would be down among them all.

"Oh, goody! goody!" cried Polly, clapping her hands.

At this Phronsie slipped out from her nest where she had been sitting, her head in Polly's lap so that she could smooth the yellow waves away from the hot little cheeks, and, picking up her skirts, she began to dance, finishing up with a little cheese in the middle of the library floor.

"I don't mean you can have your Christmas to-morrow," the little doctor made haste to explain. "Jasper must have some hours of rest. But the day after--then says I." He took off his big spectacles, wiped them carefully, stuck them on his nose again, laughed gleefully at the babel of rejoicing he had set up, and was off.

"Well now, Phronsie," said Grandpapa, "you would better come and sit with me. I really need you, child."

"Do you, Grandpapa?" asked Phronsie, and coming up to his big chair, exceedingly pleased.

"Very much indeed," said the old gentleman, decidedly. "There, that's right," as she climbed up into his lap, and laid her head on his breast.

"Now then, you and I can hear all these wonderful plans finely."

"We're going to have a Christmas," said Phronsie, putting up a soft little hand to pull his face down.

"No, really?"

"Yes, we are," said Phronsie, in grave delight. Then she bobbed up her head to look at him the closer. "We surely are, Grandpapa; and Polly is going to tell about it, she is."

"Well, then we must listen, you and I," said old Mr. King. "So we'll be still as mice, Phronsie," he whispered.

"Well, now," Polly was saying, drawing a long breath and smoothing down her gown; "O dear me! How shall we begin, we've so very much to tell?

Ben--"

"Why, just begin," said Joel, impatiently, burrowing deeper in the rug, where he lay nearest to the fire.

"Do be still, Joe," said Alexia, with a little pinch.

"Ow!" said Joel. Then he reached out and took up one of her long braids.

"Whee!" exclaimed Alexia, flying around at him. "Oh, you bad boy, you pulled my hair awfully."

"Well, you pinched me," snorted Joel.

"Such a little nip," said Alexia, pulling both of her braids in front of her; "nothing at all like what you did to me. And you've mussed up my bow," she added, twitching it off to tie it again.

"Come, you two, stop your sparring," said Ben, with a laugh. "Goodness me, have you kept that up all the while I've been gone?"

"Every single day," said Alexia, tying the ribbon fast, and proceeding to pick out the bow-ends with critical fingers. "Joel's bad, always, you know."

"I suppose you are not, Alexia," said Ben, with another laugh.

"Well, come on, Polly, do begin," said Alexia, ignoring the question; and her bow being tied to her satisfaction, "although 'tisn't as good as it was before," she grumbled, "do hurry up."

"Well," said Polly, pushing back the little rings of brown hair from her forehead, "where shall I begin? Oh, I know,--we are going to--"

"She says there's a reply expected." The butler came up to the group and thrust out a big white note.

"You take it, Polly," said Ben.

"It's for Master Joel," said Hobson. And there it was in big, slanting letters clear across the envelope.

"Here's your missive, Joe," said Ben, catching it to toss it over to him. "Hurry up and read it so that Polly can go on."

"O dear me! Must we wait for this tiresome boy?" cried Alexia. "Can't you read your letter and let Polly tell just the same? You know all she is going to say, Joe."

"No, you are going to wait," said Joel, with a grimace at her.

"Hurry up, Joe, or we will go on," warned Ben.

So Joel tore open his letter and plunged into it. The next moment he stood outside the circle and stamped up and down the library floor like a wild beast. "I'm not going; I won't, I won't,--I--"

"Joey, what _is_ the matter?" cried Polly, in great alarm, and springing out from the group, she ran up to seize his arm. But he slipped away from her.

"She wants me to go and play with those boys," cried Joel, in a towering pa.s.sion, and plunging up and down. "I won't! So there! Let me alone, Polly," for she ran after him; this time she was more successful.

"Now see here," Ben jumped to his feet, "stop acting like a goose, Joel."

"He's more like a wild-cat," said Alexia, stretching herself comfortably in the s.p.a.ce he had vacated.

"Joel, stop this moment," commanded Grandpapa. Joel's head dropped at the tone, but he ran over to the big easy-chair. Phronsie popped up her yellow head in dismay from its nest in the old gentleman's arms.

"Now don't you see how you are frightening this child to death?" said old Mr. King. "What is the matter, my boy?" for Joel's face was working dreadfully.

"She wants me--that old woman," began Joel, swallowing hard, and grasping the chair-arm for dear life.

"Who?"

"Madam--Madam--"

"Madam Van Ruypen?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, what does she want? Out with it. You're not to do it if you don't wish to, of course, so what's the use in feeling so? What does she want you to do, Joe?"

"She wants me to go over to see those--those boys," said Joel, in a burst.

"What boys, pray tell?" demanded Grandpapa, a trifle impatiently.