Five Little Peppers Midway Part 8

"Oh, Felicie! I don't want that dress," said Polly as she ran into her room after dinner, to Mrs. Whitney's French maid, "I'm going to wear my brown cashmere."

"Oh, Mademoiselle!" remonstrated Felicie, adjusting the ruffle in the neck of the white nun's veiling over her arm.

"Oh, no, Polly! I wouldn't," began Mrs. Pepper, coming in, "the white one is better for to-night."

"Mamsie!" cried Polly, breaking away from the mirror where she was pulling into place the bright brown waves over her forehead, "how lovely! you've put on your black silk; and your hair is just beautiful!"

"Madame has ze fine hair," said Felicie, "only I wish zee would gif it to me to prepaire."

"Yes, I have good hair," said Mrs. Pepper, "and I'm thankful for it. No one looks dressed up, in my opinion, with a ragged head. The finer the gown, the worse it makes careless hair look. No, Polly, I wouldn't wear the brown dress to-night."

"Why, Mamsie!" exclaimed Polly in surprise, "I thought you'd say it was just the thing when only the girls and j.a.ppy's friends are coming to the play. Besides, I don't want to look too dressed up; the Princess ought to be the only one in a white gown."

"You won't be too conspicuous," said her mother; adding slowly, "you might wear the nun's veiling well enough as you haven't any part in the play, Polly," and she scanned the rosy face keenly.

"I don't want any part," cried Polly; "they all play better than I do.

Somebody must see that everything goes off well behind the scenes; that's my place, Mamsie. Besides, you forget I am to play my sonata."

"I don't forget," said her mother; "all the more reason you should wear the white gown, then."

"All right," cried Polly, merrily dashing across the room to Felicie, "put it over my head, do. Well, I'm glad you think it is right to wear it, Mamsie," as the soft folds fell around her. "I just love this dress. Oh, Auntie! how perfectly exquisite!"

Mrs. Whitney came in smilingly and put a kiss on the tall girl's cheek.

"Do I look nicely?" she asked naively, turning around under the chandelier.

"Nicely?" exclaimed Polly, lifting her hands, "why you are fresh from fairyland. You are so good to put on that lovely blue moire and your diamond cross, just for the boys and girls."

"I am glad you like it," said Mrs. Whitney hastily. "Now, Polly, don't you worry about anything; I'll see that the last things are done."

"Well, I am worrying," confessed Polly, quite in a tremble; "I must see to one corner of the private box for the boys. You know the last India shawl you lent me wasn't pinned up straight and I couldn't fix it, for Van wanted me just then, and I couldn't get away without his suspecting something. Oh, Auntie! if you would see to that."

"I will," said Mrs. Whitney, not daring to look at Mrs. Pepper, "and to all the other things; don't give a thought to them, Polly."

"How good you are," cried Polly with a sigh of relief. "Oh, Auntie! we couldn't do anything without you."

"And you don't need to go into the drawing-room at all," said Mrs.

Whitney, going to the door. "Just keep behind the scenes, and get your actors and Phronsie ready, and your mother and I will receive your friends. Come, Mrs. Pepper."

"That is splendid," cried Polly, left behind with the maid, "now I can get ready without flying into a flurry, Felicie; and then for Phronsie and the rest!"

"There is a dreadful commotion in there among the audience," said Jasper, out in the green room; "I imagine every one who had an 'invite,' has come. But I don't see how they can make such a noise."

"Oh! a few girls and boys make just about as much confusion as a good many," observed Polly. "Jasper, wouldn't you like to see Joel's eyes when Aunt Whitney leads him into the private box?" she allowed herself time to exclaim. "Yes," laughed Jasper, pulling out his watch from beneath his dragon-skin; "well, we have only five minutes more, Polly.

We must have the curtain up sharp."

"O dear, dear!" cried Polly, flying here and there to bestow last touches on the different members of her cast. "Now, Clare, you must remember not to give such a shriek when you go on, mustn't he, j.a.ppy?

Just a dull, sullen roar, your part is."

"Well, I'm nearly dead under here," cried Clare, glaring beneath his dragon face. "I'll shriek, or roar, just as I like, so!"

"Very well," said Polly, "I don't know but it's as well, after all, that you are cross; you'll be more effective," she added coolly. "Let me see--oh! the door of the cave wants a bit more of gray moss; it looks thin where it hangs over. You get it, will you, Hannah?" to one of the maids who was helping.

"And just one thing more," scanning hastily the stage setting, "another Chinese lantern is needed right here," going toward the front of the stage, "and that green bush is tumbling over; do set it straight, somebody; there now, I believe everything is all ready. Now let us peep out of the curtain, and get one good look at the audience. Come, Phronsie, here's a fine place; come, boys!"

The different members of the cast now applied their eyes to as many cracks in the curtain as could be hastily managed.

There was a breathing s.p.a.ce.

"What, what?" cried Polly, gazing into the sea of faces, and the dragons nearly knocked the Princess over as Mr. King gave the signal for the band stationed in the wide hall, to send out their merriest strains.

V

AFTER THE PLAY

It was all over. Phronsie had been swept off, a vision of loveliness, to the cave; the dragons had roared their loudest, and the gallant knight had covered himself with glory in the brilliant rescue of the Princess; the little page had won the hearts of all the ladies; Mr.

King had applauded himself hoa.r.s.e, especially during the delivery of the prologue, when "I cry you mercy, sirs, and ladies fair," rang out; the musical efforts of Polly and Jasper in the "Wait" between the two acts were over, and the crowded house, in every way possible, had expressed itself delighted with all things from beginning to end.

"Phronsie, Phronsie, they're calling you," whispered Polly excitedly, out in the green room.

"Come, Princess." The head dragon held out his hand. "Hurry dear! See the flowers!"

"They can't be for me," said Phronsie, standing quite still; "Polly has done all the work; they're hers."

"Nonsense, child!" cried Polly, giving her a gentle push forward. "Go on, and take them."

"Polly, you come too," begged Phronsie, refusing to stir, and holding her by the gown.

"I can't, Phronsie," cried Polly in distress; "don't you see they haven't called me. Go on, child, if you love me," she implored.

Phronsie, not being able to resist this, dropped Polly's gown and floated before the footlights.

"Thank you," she said, bowing gravely to the sea of faces, as her hands were filled with roses, "but I shall give these to Polly, because we couldn't any of us have done it without her." And so she brought them back to put into dismayed Polly's lap.

"The authors--the authors of the play!" cried a strong voice, privately urged on by Mr. King.

"There, now's your turn," cried Clare to Polly. "And go ahead, old dragon," to Jasper, "make your prettiest bow."

So the chief dragon led up blushing Polly to the front of the stage, to hear a neat little speech from Mr. Alstyne, thanking them for the pleasure of the evening and congratulating them on its success; and the band played again, the camp chairs were folded up and removed, the green-room and stage were deserted, and actors and audience mingled in a gay, confusing throng.

Phronsie, in her little silver and white gown and gleaming cap, began to wander among the guests, unconscious that she had not on the red cashmere dress she had worn all day. Groups stopped their conversation to take her into their midst, pa.s.sing her on at last as one might hand over a precious parcel to the next waiting hands. Polly, seeing that she was well cared for, gave herself up to the enjoyment of the evening.

"Well, sir, how did you like it?" asked Jasper, with a small pat on Joel's back.

"Well enough," said Joel, "but why didn't you make more of it? You could have crawled up on top of the cave, and slashed around there; and you old dragons were just three m.u.f.fs in the last act. I'd rather have had Polly in the play; she's twice the go in her.