Five Little Peppers at School Part 47

"Sister," said Miss Salisbury, doing her best to be quite calm, "it isn't a matter of payment; for whatever we did, we never could hope to replace that exquisite little vase. Miss Clemcy had pointed out to me the fact that it was quite the gem in his collection."

"I know; I thought my heart would stop when I heard the crash." Miss Anstice wrung her little hands together at the memory. "Oh, that careless Lily!"

"Sister, pray let us look at this matter--"

"I am looking at it. I see nothing but that vase, smashed to pieces; and I cannot sleep at night for fear I'll dream how it looked in those very little bits."

"Sister--pray--pray--"

"And if you want me to tell you what I think should be done, I'm sure I can't say," added Miss Anstice helplessly.

"Well, then, I must think," declared Miss Salisbury, with sudden energy, "for some repayment must surely be made to him, although they utterly refused it when you and I called and broached the subject to them."

"It was certainly a most unfortunate day from beginning to end," said Miss Anstice, with a suggestion of tears in her voice, and a shiver at the remembrance of the front breadth of her gown. "Sister, I hope and pray that you will never have another picnic for the school."

"I cannot abolish that annual custom, Anstice," said Miss Salisbury firmly, "for the girls get so much enjoyment out of it. They are already talking about the one to come next year."

"Ugh!" shuddered Miss Anstice.

"And anything that holds an influence over them, I must sustain. You know that yourself, sister. And it is most important to give them some recreations."

"But _picnics!_" Miss Anstice held up her little hands, as if quite unequal to any words.

"And I am very sorry that we were out when Mr. Clemcy and his sister called yesterday afternoon, for I am quite sure I could have arranged matters so that we need not feel under obligations to them."

Miss Anstice, having nothing to say, kept her private reflections mournfully to herself; and it being the hour for the boarding pupils to go out to walk, and her duty to accompany them, the conference broke up.

"Polly," called Mrs. Chatterton, as Polly ran past her door, her opera gla.s.ses Grandpapa had given her last Christmas in the little plush bag dangling from her arm, and a happy light in her eyes. Cathie had gone downstairs, and it was getting nearly time to set forth for that enchanted land--the playhouse!

Polly ran on, scarcely conscious that she was called. "Did you not hear me?" asked Mrs. Chatterton angrily, coming to her door.

"Oh, I beg pardon," said Polly, really glad ever since that dreadful time when Mrs. Chatterton was ill, to do anything for her. "For I never shall forget how naughty I was to her," Polly said over to herself now as she turned back.

"You may well beg my pardon," said Mrs. Chatterton, "for of all ill-bred girls, you are certainly the worst. I want you." Then she disappeared within her room.

"What is it?" asked Polly, coming in. "I shall be so glad to help."

"Help!" repeated Mrs. Chatterton in scorn. She was standing over by her toilet table. "You can serve me; come here."

The hot blood mounted to Polly's brow. Then she thought, "Oh, what did I say? That I would do anything for Mrs. Chatterton if she would only forgive me for those dreadful words I said to her." And she went over and stood by the toilet table.

"Oh, you have concluded to come?" observed Mrs. Chatterton scornfully.

"So much the better it would be if you could always learn what your place is in this house. There, you see this lace?" She shook out her flowing sleeve, glad to display her still finely moulded arm, that had been one of her chief claims to distinction, even if n.o.body but this little country-bred girl saw it.

Polly looked at the dangling lace, evidently just torn, with dismay; seeing which, Mrs. Chatterton broke out sharply, "Get the basket, girl, over there on the table, and sew it as well as you can."

"Polly!" called Jasper over the stairs, "where are you?"

Polly trembled all over as she hurried across the room to get the sewing basket. Grandpapa was not ready, she knew; but she always ran down a little ahead for the fun of the last moments waiting with Jasper, when old Mr. King was going to take them out of an evening. And in the turmoil in her mind, she didn't observe that Hortense had misplaced the basket, putting it on the low bookcase, and was still searching all over the table as directed, when Mrs. Chatterton's sharp voice filled her with greater dismay.

"_Stupid!_ if you would put heart into your search, it would be easy enough to find it."

"_Polly_, where _are_ you!" Polly, in her haste not to displease Mrs.

Chatterton by replying to Jasper before finding the basket, knocked over one of the small silver-topped bottles with which the dressing table seemed to be full, and before she could rescue it, it fell to the floor.

"Go out of this room," commanded Mrs. Chatterton, with blazing eyes. "I ought to have known better than to call upon a heavy-handed, low-born country girl, to do a delicate service."

"I didn't mean--" began poor Polly.

"Go out of this room!" Mrs. Chatterton, now thoroughly out of temper, so far forgot herself as to stamp her foot; and Polly, feeling as if she had lost all chance in her future encounters with Mrs. Chatterton, of atoning for past short-comings, went sadly out, to meet, just beside the door, Jasper, with amazement on his face.

"Oh, Polly, I thought you were never coming." Then he saw her face.

"That old--" he said under his breath. "Polly, don't ever go into her room again. I wouldn't," as they hurried off downstairs.

"She won't let me," said Polly, her head drooping, and the brightness all gone from her face. "She won't ever let me go again, I know."

"Won't let you? Well, I guess you'll not give her a chance," cried Jasper hotly. "Polly, I do really wish that father would tell her to go away."

"Oh, Jasper," cried Polly, in alarm, "don't say one word to Grandpapa.

Promise me you won't, Jasper."

"Well, father is tired of her. She wears on him terribly, Polly," said Jasper gloomily.

"I know," said Polly sadly. "And oh, Jasper, if you say one word, he will really have her go. And I was so bad to her, you know," and the tears came into Polly's brown eyes.

"Well, she must have been perfectly terrible to you," said Jasper.

"Polly--Jasper--where are you?" came in old Mr. King's voice.

"Here, father," and "Here, Grandpapa," and Clare running up the steps, the little party was soon in the carriage.

"Promise me, Jasper, do," implored Polly, when Grandpapa was explaining to Cathie about the great actor they were to see, and Clare was listening to hear all about it, too.

"Oh, I won't," promised Jasper, "if you don't wish me to."

"I really wouldn't have you for all the world," declared Polly; and now that this fear was off from her mind, she began to pick up her old, bright spirits, so that by the time the carriage stopped at the theatre, Polly was herself again.

Jasper watched her keenly, and drew a long breath when he saw her talking and laughing with Grandpapa.

"You are going to sit next to me, Polly," said the old gentleman, marshalling his forces when well within. "And Jasper next. Then, Cathie, you will have a knight on either side."

"Oh, I can't sit between two boys," cried Cathie, forgetting herself in her terror.

"I won't bite you," cried Clare saucily.

"I will see that Clare behaves himself," said Jasper.