Five Little Peppers Midway Part 6

Clare threw himself into the part of the dragons, and forgetful of Phronsie, gave a loud roar. Polly clapped her hands and tossed an imaginary bouquet as Jasper bowed himself off.

"Hush!" said Ben, "you'll wake up Phronsie," but it was too late; there she sat rubbing her eyes in astonishment.

"Oh! you darling," cried Polly, running over to her, to clasp her in her arms, "I'm so sorry I tired you all out, Phronsie dear, do forgive me."

"I'm not tired," said Phronsie, with dewy eyes. "Has Jasper got through reading? What was it all about, Polly?"

"Indeed and I have finished," he cried with a yawn and throwing the ma.n.u.script on the table, "and I don't know in the least what it is all about, Phronsie."

"Just a lot of dreadful words," said Clare over in the corner, pulling at a heap of costumes on the floor. "Never mind; the horrible spell is broken; come on, you fellows, and tumble into your dragon skins!"

With that the chief dragon deserted Phronsie, and presently there resounded the rattle of the scales, the clanking of chains, and the dragging about of the rest of their paraphernalia.

"Now, Phronsie," said Jasper, coming back, half-within his dragon skin and gesticulating, "you see that it's only I in this thing. Look, dear!

here goes in my head," and he pulled on the scaly covering, observing great care to smile rea.s.suringly the last thing before his countenance was obscured.

Phronsie screamed with delight and clapped her hands. "Oh, Jasper! let me have one on, do, Jasper! I'd much rather be a dragon than a princess. Really and truly I would, Jasper."

"I don't agree with you," said Jasper, in a m.u.f.fled voice. "Phew! this is no end stuffy, fellows. I can't stand it long."

"I'm all coming to pieces," said Ben, turning around to regard his back where the scales yawned fearfully.

"I'll run and ask Mamsie to come and sew you up," cried Polly, flying off. "She said she would help, if we wanted her."

IV

WELCOME HOME!

"Marian," said old Mr. King, putting his head in at the door of her little writing-room, "can't you get her comfortably out of the way this morning? I want your services without interruption."

"She's going down to Pinaud's," said Mrs. Whitney, looking up from the note she was writing.

"Capital! when she once gets there, she'll stay the morning," declared Mr. King, greatly pleased. "Now, then, after she's cleverly off, you may come to me."

"I will, father," said Marian, going back with a smile to her correspondence.

Half an hour later Thomas, with the aid of the horses and the shopping coupe having carried off Mrs. Chatterton, Mrs. Whitney pushed aside her notes, and ran down to her father's study.

She found him in his velvet morning-gown seated before his table, busy with a good-sized list of names that was rapidly growing longer under his pen.

"Oh! I forgot," he said, looking up; "I intended to tell you to bring some of your cards and envelopes. I want some invitations written."

"Are you going to give a dinner?" asked Marian, looking over his shoulder. "Oh, no! I see by the length of your list it's an evening affair, or a musicale."

"You run along, daughter," said the old gentleman, "and get what I tell you. This is my affair; it's a musicale and something else combined. I don't just know myself." And he laughed at the sight of her face.

"If father is only pleased, I don't care what it is," said Mrs. Whitney to herself, hurrying over the stairs and back again, never once thinking of Polly's and Jasper's surprise for the boys.

"You see, Marian," said Mr. King as she sat down by the table, and laid the cards and envelopes in front of him, "that I'm going to help out that affair that Jasper and Polly are getting up."

"Oh, father! how good of you!" exclaimed Mrs. Whitney in a delighted tone, which immensely pleased the old gentleman, to begin with.

"They've been working very hard, those two, at their studies this autumn. I've seen them," cried Mr. King with a shrewd air, "and I'm going now to give them a little pleasure."

Marian said nothing, but let him have the comfort of doing all the talking, which he now enjoyed to his heart's content.

"Whether the other chaps have done well, I don't know. Davie may have kept at it, but I suspect the rest of the boys haven't killed themselves with hard study. But they shall have a good home-coming, at any rate."

Mrs. Whitney smiled, and he proceeded:

"Now I'm going to send out these invitations"--he pushed the list toward her--"I shall have the drawing-room and music-room floors covered, and all extra seats arranged, give Turner carte blanche as to flowers, if he can't furnish enough out of our own conservatories--and the evening will end with a handsome 'spread,' as Jasper calls it. In short, I shall recognize their attempt to make it pleasant for the boys' holiday, by helping them out on the affair all I can." The old gentleman now leaned back in his big chair and studied his daughter's face.

"And you'll never regret it, father," she cried, with an enthusiasm that satisfied him, "for these young people will all repay you a thousand-fold, I do believe, in the time to come."

"Don't I know it?" cried Mr. King, getting out of his chair hastily to pace the floor. "Goodness me! they repay me already. They're fine young things, every one of them--Whitneys, Peppers and my boy--as fine as they are made. And whoever says they're not, doesn't know a good piece of work when it's before his eyes. Bless me!" pulling out his handkerchief to mop his face violently, "I don't want to see any finer."

"I hope I shall have a sight of Jasper's and Polly's faces when you tell them what you intend to do," said Mrs. Whitney; "where are your cards, father?"

"Tell them? I shan't tell them at all," cried the old gentleman; "I'm going to have a surprise, too. No one must know it but you and Mrs.

Pepper."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Whitney. "It was very stupid in me not to understand that. It will be all right, father; Mrs. Pepper and I will keep our secret, you needn't fear."

"If you can only keep HER out of the way," exclaimed Mr. King, pointing irascibly in the direction of Mrs. Chatterton's apartments, "all will be well. But I doubt if you can; her meddlesome ears and tongue will be at work as usual," he added in extreme vexation.

"Here comes Jasper," exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, which had the satisfactory result of bringing her father out of his irritation, into a flutter over the concealment of the party preparations.

"Jasper," cried Polly that evening, as they ran into the music-room to play a duet, "we're all right about everything now, as your father says we may invite the girls and your friends."

"And he said when I asked him if we ought not to have cake and coffee, 'I'll attend to that,'" said Jasper, "so everything is all straight as far as I can see, Polly."

"The private boxes trouble me, I must confess," said Polly, drumming absently on the keys, while Jasper spread the sheet of music on the rack. "You know there must be two; one for dear Mr. King and one for the boys as guests of honor. Now how shall we manage them?"

She took her hand off suddenly from the keys and folded it over its fellow on her knee, to study his face anxiously.

"It's pretty hard to get them up, that's a fact," said Jasper truthfully, "but then, you know, Polly, we've always found that when a thing had to be done, it was done. You know the little brown house taught us that."

"So it did," said Polly, brightening up. "Dear little old brown house, how could I ever forget it! Well, I suppose," with a sigh, "it will come to us as an inspiration when it's time to fix them."

"I suppose so too," said Mrs. Pepper, pa.s.sing the door, as usual with her mending basket, "and when two people start to play a duet, I think they much better put their minds on that, and not waste precious time on all sorts of questions that will take care of themselves when the time comes."

"You are right, Mrs. Pepper," cried Jasper with a laugh, and seating himself before the piano. "Come, Polly!"

"Mamsie is always right, isn't she, Jasper?" cried Polly with pride, putting her hands down for the first chords.