Five Little Peppers at School Part 41

"Then we'll both try our very best," said Jasper. "I'm sure I ought to; 'twould be mean enough to expect you to go at such a task alone."

"Oh, you couldn't be mean, Jasper," declared Polly, in horror at the very thought.

"Well, I should be if I left you to tackle this by yourself," said Jasper, with a grim little laugh. "So Polly, there's my hand on it. I'll help you."

And Polly ran back to pick up her ribbons and dress for dinner, feeling somehow very happy after all, that there was something she could do for dear Grandpapa to help him bear this great calamity.

Tom Beresford, meanwhile, withdrew from the great hall when Johnson ushered in the tall, stately woman and her French maid, and took shelter in the library. And Mrs. Whitney, coming over the stairs, saying, "Well, Cousin Eunice, did you have a pleasant journey?" in the gentle voice Tom so loved, gave him the first inkling of the relationship. But he wrinkled his brows at Joel's exclamation, and his queer way of rushing off.

"You know journeys always tire me, Marian. So that your question is quite useless. I will sit in the library a moment to recover myself.

Hortense, go up and prepare my room," and she sailed into the apartment, her heavy silk gown swishing close to Tom's chair.

"Who is that boy?" she demanded sharply. Then she put up her lorgnette, and examined him closely as if of a new and probably dangerous species.

Tom slipped off from his chair and stiffened up.

"It's one of Joel's friends," said Mrs. Whitney, slipping her hand within the tall boy's arm. "The boys are at home from school for a week."

"Joel's friends," repeated Mrs. Chatterton, paying scant attention to the rest of the information. Then she gave a scornful cackle. "Haven't you gotten over that nonsense yet, Marian?" she asked.

"No; and I trust I never shall," replied Mrs. Whitney with a happy smile. "Now, Cousin Eunice, as you wish to rest, we will go," and she drew Tom off.

"My boy," she said, releasing him in the hall, to give a bright glance up at the stormy, astonished face above her, "I know you and Joel will get dressed as rapidly as possible for dinner, for my father will not want to be annoyed by a lack of promptness to-night." She did not say, "because he will have annoyance enough," but Tom guessed it all.

"I will, Mrs. Whitney," he promised heartily. And, thinking he would go to the ends of the earth for her, to be smiled on like that, he plunged off over the stairs.

"I've seen the old cat," he cried in smothered wrath to Joel, rushing into his room.

Joel sat disconsolately on the edge of his bed, kicking off his heavy shoes, to replace with his evening ones.

"Have you?" said Joel grimly. "Well, isn't she a--" then he remembered Mamsie, and snapped his lips to.

"'A,'" exclaimed Tom, in smothered wrath, as he closed the door. "She isn't 'a' at all, Joe. She's 'the.'"

"Well, do be still," cried Joel, putting on his best shoes nervously, "or you'll have me saying something. And she's visiting here; and Mamsie wouldn't like it. Don't, Tom," he begged.

"I won't," said Tom, with a monstrous effort, "but--oh dear me!" Then he rushed into his own room and banged about, getting his best clothes out.

"Shut the door," roared Joel after him, "or you'll begin to fume, and I can't stand it, Tom; it will set me off."

So Tom shut the door; and with all these precautions going on over the house, all the family in due time appeared at dinner, prepared as best they could be to bear the infliction of Mrs. Chatterton's return.

And after the conclusion of the meal, why, everybody tried to forget it as much as possible, and give themselves up to the grand affair of the evening.

And old Mr. King, who had been consumed with fear that it would have a disastrous effect on Polly and Jasper, the chief getters-up of the entertainment, came out of his fright nicely; for there they were, as bright and jolly as ever, and fully equal to any demands upon them. So he made up his mind that, after all, he could put up with Cousin Eunice a bit longer, and that the affair was to be an immense success and the very finest thing possible.

And everybody else who was present on the eventful occasion, said so too! And it seemed as if Mr. King's s.p.a.cious drawing-room, famous for its capacity at all such times, couldn't possibly have admitted another person to this entertainment for the benefit of the poor brakeman's family.

And Joel, who wasn't good at recitations, and who detested all that sort of thing, and Van, for the same reason, were both in their element as ticket takers. And the little pink and yellow squares came in so thick and fast that both boys had all they could do for a while--which was saying a good deal--to collect them.

And everybody said that Miss Mary Taylor had never played such a beautiful overture--and she was capable of a good deal along that line--in all her life; and Phronsie, sitting well to the front, between old Mr. King and Helen Fargo, forgot that she ever had a hurt arm, and that it lay bandaged up in her lap.

And little d.i.c.k, 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 s.p.a.cious 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!"