with you, but you made me."
"Well, because you and Pickering were having such a fight. O me, I wish
I'd let you alone," she added, sinking back into her corner.
But Van, much preferring Alexia to Pickering, couldn't say the same, so
the carriage rolled on to a gloomy silence within.
"Oh, I say," began Pickering, after this had gone on for some minutes,
"this is a sweet way to go to Mr. King's, isn't it?"
"Well, we can't help it," cried Alexia, flying up from her corner; "I'm
sure, Pickering, you can't blame any of us. And I haven't got Polly
Pepper; you know she was coming in here with me, and everything is just
as bad as it can be."
"You're always tagging on to Polly Pepper; I'm glad you haven't got her
this time," declared Cathie, in venom from her corner.
"Of course I'm always after Polly," said Alexia, decidedly, "when she's
my very dearest friend. O my, don't I wish I could get out!"
"Well, you will pretty soon," said Pickering, coolly; "we'll all get
out, for we'll be there in a minute. And then how we'll look, for we're
supposed to be helping Mr. King's family, and they're in such trouble."
"O dear me!" exclaimed Alexia, in great distress, whirling around
suddenly to look out of the window, her long, fight braids flying over
her shoulder. "Pickering Dodge, we aren't near Mr. King's yet," she
declared, peering out; "we haven't got to--oh, yes we have--O dear me,
what shall we do?" and she flew back again into her corner.
"We've just got to do something," said Pickering, in a determined voice.
Little David had been past speaking for some time, and, wedged in
between Cathie and Pickering, had been chiefly occupied in twisting his
hands, and trying not to think how very dreadful it all was, and how
Mamsie would feel to see them all come in.
"We can't do anything," said Alexia, despairingly; "it's all as dreadful
as it can be, and we can't help it," and she ran her long arms as far as
she could into her muff, and hugged it up tightly.
"Well, we've got to help it," said Pickering. "There's Jasper," he broke
off suddenly, for it was as much as he could do to think about the
accident that had summoned Mr. King and Ben away from home, let alone
trying to talk about it, and he swallowed hard and looked out of his
window.
"O dear me!" exclaimed Alexia, faintly from her corner.
Then she sat up straight. "Oh, I know, let's look pleasant, that's what
the man says when he takes my photograph, and he won't throw back his
old woollen cover from the machine till I smile, so I'm going to
now,"--which she did with such surprising effect, that Pickering,
turning around, couldn't help but join all the others in the general
laugh that set up; even little David forgot everything else for that
moment.
The consequence was that when the carriage drew up to the door of the
big stone house, the occupants tumbled out and ran up the steps in quite
good humor, to join the other half of the party, in the centre of which
were Mother Fisher and Mrs. Whitney.
"Now that's very nice and cheerful," said Mother Fisher, beaming on them
all. Mrs. Whitney, her arms around her two boys, was beyond speaking.
"You must all stay and have luncheon with Percy and Van; they'll enjoy
it so much more," and she led the way to the dining room.
"Ugh, O dear me!" Alexia ran after her. "Oh, don't ask me; I can't stay,
Mrs. Fisher, truly I can't."
"Why, Alexia,"--Mother Fisher turned on her in great surprise,--"it will
help to make things pleasanter," she said slowly.
"Oh, I can't; don't ask me," mumbled Alexia, wildly, and twisting her
hands together. One thing only she now really longed for, and that was
to stay for the dear little luncheon party she knew Polly's mother had
made ready. But she had lost it all; and she darted back and, clutching
Polly's arm a moment in passing, "I'm going home," she said.
"What?" cried Polly, flying around to seize her. "Oh, no, indeed, you
are not, Alexia. Why, you are all to stay; didn't you hear Mamsie say
so?"
"Well, I can't," said Alexia. "O dear me, I'm going to cry, and I can't
get my handkerchief. Polly Pepper, do let me go!"
But instead, Polly held very fast indeed to her, and the next moment
Alexia found herself in the big dining room, in the midst of the
delightsome luncheon party made for the two schoolboys' home-coming.
"Well, I shan't sit down, anyway," declared Alexia, desperately, "and
I'm going to tell Mrs. Fisher." With that she darted away from Polly and
ran over to her mother. "I haven't been cheerful, and I was just as bad
as I could be coming up in the carriage," she said as fast as the words
would come, "so you see I can't stay."
"This is your seat, Alexia," said Mother Fisher, just as if she hadn't
heard a single word, and laying her hand on a chair, she pulled it out
from the table; "hurry and sit down, dear, for those two boys must be
very hungry after their journey," and Alexia obeyed and slipped into her
chair, for once in her life not waiting to get Polly Pepper next to her.
And after the little luncheon was over,--and it didn't seem to have made
a bit of difference that every one besides the two hungry boys had
already had a midday meal, for it all tasted so good,--why, things began
to get a bit more cheery. And Mother Fisher and Mrs. Whitney even smiled
over to each other. But Van, his hunger appeased, slipped out after his
mother when at last the feast was over.
"Oh, Vanny, my boy, it is so good to get you home," she cried,
affectionately throwing her arm around him, as they went down the hall.
"I'm going to your room," announced Van, without any preamble.
"How good that is," she declared as he hugged up close to her. "You
don't know, Van, how I have wanted to see you and Percy."
"O dear," said Van, but he crowded closer than ever.
"And--well, here we are," and Mrs. Whitney hurried into her pretty room
with the haste of a girl, and turned her face with its little pink glow
of happiness on him. "Oh, Van!"
"I've been bad," said Van, not looking at her, but dropping his eyes to
the floor.
"Oh, Van!" Mrs. Whitney laid her hand on her heart, and all the pretty
flush died from her cheek. "What--" but she couldn't get any farther,
for somebody fumbled at the door, and, without any further announcement,
walked in.
"O dear me!" exclaimed Percy, withdrawing when he saw Van.
"Come in, Percy," called his mother, before he could beat a retreat. It
would be some relief to have both of her boys, but what could have
happened!
So Percy walked in, and he stood just like Van, only worse, for he
didn't seem to know what to do with his hands.
"Why, what is it? What can it be?" cried their mother. "Oh, do tell me,
boys; don't be afraid."
Van turned off on his heel till he got his back to Percy. Then he found
his tongue. But it was only to say again, "I was bad."
"Well, so was I," Percy got the words out with great difficulty, staring
gloomily at the carpet, and thrusting his hands in his pockets to pull
them out as suddenly.
"You must just tell me what you have done," said Mrs. Whitney, looking
desperately first at one and then at the other, "or I shall go for Mrs.
Fisher," and she started for the door.
"Oh, no, no, Mamma!" they cried together, and Van whirled around and
held her gown.
"I certainly shall," declared their mother, firmly, "unless you tell me
at once what is the matter," and she took another step toward the hall.
"I fretted about--" began Van.
"Not having any Christmas," said Percy, coming in as a finish. "O dear!"
"Oh, boys!"
"Don't look so, Mamma, don't!" implored Van, clutching her gown with
desperate fingers.
"And I did, too," said Percy. His hands now seemed to have no comfort in
his pockets, so he twisted them miserably together.
"You mean when you were coming home in the carriage?" asked Mrs.
Whitney, a sorrowful little droop coming in her pretty mouth.
"Yes," said Van, his head hanging. "O dear me,"--he had hard work not to
cry, but he wagged his head from side to side, and somehow kept the
tears back,--"I did, anyway."
"Well, I did, too," said Percy, hastily; "that is, on the train. O
dear!"
"Well, this is very bad," said their mother. But her voice was quite
gentle, and she put her arm around each of them. "When we know how happy
we ought to be that Jasper is really better, although he can't come home
until after Christmas, how can we think of a holiday, and fret because
we lose it?"
"We won't fret," said Percy, eagerly. "Oh, we won't, Mamma, ever again."
"No," said Van, "we won't, truly, Mamma."
While this was going on in Mrs. Whitney's room, there was a small clamor
raised downstairs. Where in the world were the two boys just come home
from school?
"I know," declared Alexia, who had recovered her spirits. "Polly," and
she drew her off into the library, "they went upstairs with Mrs.
Whitney," she said with a loud whisper in her ear.
"I heard you," cried little Dick, creeping in back of the two girls,
"and I shall just go up to Mamma's room," and he began to skip off
joyously.
"Oh, no, you mustn't," cried Alexia, deserting Polly to race after him
and seize his blouse. "The very idea--Polly, come and help me hold this
dreadful boy."
"I shall go up and see my Mamma," said Dick, in a small fury, and
pulling and kicking violently. "She is my very own Mamma, and I _shall_
see her."
"But you mustn't," said Alexia, very red in the face. "O dear me, why
did I speak! Polly, do help me," for just then Phronsie had run in
between the two girls, and before any one had a chance to hardly
breathe, a dreadful sound struck their ears.
"There, see what you have done!" exclaimed little Dick, in a wrathful
key. Alexia's fingers fell away, and he held up a dangling end of lace,
all frayed and ragged. "You've torn my blouse, and I _shall_ see my
Mamma." With that he set out on a run for the stairs.
X
"I'LL LOVE HER JUST FOREVER!"
"I'm going home," cried Alexia, hoarsely, and rushing blindly down the
hall.
"Alexia!" Polly deserted Phronsie and raced after her. "You can't mean
it; do come back. It isn't any matter that lace was torn," she added
breathlessly, as she gained her side.
"Polly Pepper," gasped Alexia, "how can you say so? It's the most
dreadful thing!" and she turned wide eyes of amazement at her.
"I mean it isn't near as bad as for you to run home," said Polly,
hastily; "that would make Mrs. Whitney feel ever so much worse."
At the mention of Mrs. Whitney's name, Alexia's long figure shook all
over. "Horrors! I can't ever see her again!" and she buried her face in
her hands.
"Now, Alexia, aren't you ashamed to act so?" said Polly. "Dear me, over
a bit of lace that can be mended, I most know; and we've had so much
trouble," and she sighed.
"And I've made a mess of it ever since those boys came home, and now
I've gone and torn that lace," mumbled Alexia, between her fingers, the
sigh making her nearly frantic. "Polly Pepper, I _shall_ go home,"--with
that she sprang away from Polly, and ran upstairs to Polly's room to get
her things.
Polly, with only one thought to get Mamsie, who alone seemed to be the
person to manage this new trouble, hurried off to find her. But Mrs.
Fisher, happy in the success of the little luncheon party, had
disappeared to some unknown house duty, and couldn't at this very moment
be found. So Polly had the distress to hear, before she could run over
the stairs herself, the big front door bang, and, hurrying to the
window, she saw Alexia running down the driveway and pulling her coat
around her as she ran.
For the first moment Polly had wild thoughts of flying off after her.
Then, remembering what Mamsie had once said, "If you want to help,
Polly, take time to think what would be the best way," and that Mamsie
would say now, in this trouble, "Don't go, for the boys are just
home,"--"O dear me!" she cried as Joel rushed in and up to the window,
and without a bit of warning seized her about the waist and spun her
into the middle of the floor.
"Oh, Joey, what is it?" she gasped when she could get her breath.
"He's going to bring Pip," cried Joel, bobbing his black head at her.
"Come on, Polly, whoopity la!" and he held out his hands for another war
dance.
"Oh, Joel,"--Polly seized his hands and stood quite still,--"you don't
mean Jasper is coming soon?" The color flew into her cheeks till they
were rosy red.
"Yes, I do, too," said Joel, prancing off by himself, since Polly
wouldn't dance; "he's coming to-morrow; no, I guess next week--anyway,
he's coming." With that he executed some remarkable steps as only Joel
could.
"How did you know, Joel? Stop and tell me." Polly flew after him around
and around the room.
"A letter," said Joel; "whoopity la! and he's going to bring Pip."
"A letter?" Now she must find Mamsie or Aunty Whitney, and Polly left
Joel dancing away and got over the stairs with her best speed to find
Mrs. Whitney just coming to call her. She held in her hand an open
letter, scraps of which she was reading aloud to the two boys hanging on
either arm, little Dick, unable to attract attention to his torn lace,
pulling at her gown impatiently.
"Is it true--is Jasper coming home?" cried Polly, breathlessly rushing
up.
"Yes, dear," Mrs. Whitney tore off her gaze from the letter, and turned
shining eyes on her. "Oh, Polly, this has just come and I was going to
find you. Yes, yes, Dick, Mamma will attend to you presently; he is
really coming home."
"When is he coming?" asked Polly, clasping her hands impatiently.
"Oh, not until next week, but it is, oh, so much, to have the doctor set
a time. Just think, Polly," and she turned her face, now almost as rosy
as Polly's own, upon her affectionately.
"She tore my lace," said little Dick, thinking it a good time to begin
again on the announcement he had been trying to make ever since he had
arrived, and he held up the frayed end.
"Yes, yes, dear," said Mrs. Whitney, indifferently without even a glance
at it; "and he is to bring Pip, and he wants us all to make him have the
best time in the world. Oh, won't we, children! for it will please
Jasper." Her eyes glowed as she looked around at them all. At this
little Dick deserted his lace. "Oh, I will, Mamma," he promised, "and he
shall have my rocking-horse, and that'll please Jasper, I guess," and he
began to march up and down the hall in great importance.
"And now, Polly," said Mrs. Whitney, "and, boys, we must think up what
we are to do for the real Christmas, when Jasper and father and Ben get
home; oh, and Pip--we mustn't forget Pip."
"Oh, no, we won't forget Pip," they cried, as they all hurried
downstairs to bring the good news to Mother Fisher and the others.
And so, although Polly did not forget about Alexia, it was some time
before she could get Mrs. Whitney's ear to tell her about it.
"Now I'll tell you what we'll do, Polly," said Mrs. Whitney, when she
had heard it all; "I'll have the carriage right away, and you and I will
drive over and get Alexia to come back to dinner."
"Oh, and can't she stay over night, Aunty?" cried Polly, hopping up and
down in great excitement.
"Yes, indeed, if her Aunt will let her," said Mrs. Whitney, delighted to
have everything coming out so nicely; "so now run off and get on your
things, child."
No need to tell Polly that. She was soon ready, and before long there
they were, Aunty Whitney and she, driving off to bring Alexia home and
comfort her up.
"She isn't home," said the maid, who answered the door-bell of Mrs.
Cummings's aristocratic boarding-house on the Avenue.
"Isn't home?" repeated Polly, faintly.
"No'm."
"What is it, Polly?" asked Mrs. Whitney, from the carriage.
"Alexia isn't home," said Polly, disconsolately, and feeling as if the
whole world were out of joint.
"Miss Rhys took her away," said the maid, who, beginning to be
communicative, saw no reason why she shouldn't tell the whole, "and she
didn't want to go, either."
"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly.
"No, she didn't; but Miss Rhys wouldn't leave her alone 'cause she was
crying so, and she was going to Miss Barnard's to tea, and so she made
her go, too."
"Aunty,"--Polly flew down the steps,--"oh, can't we," she cried
desperately, "go over and get Alexia; can't we, Aunty?"
"At Miss Barnard's, is she?" asked Mrs. Whitney, who had heard only part
of the maid's information.
"Yes, and Alexia does hate to go there," said Polly, in a burst, "and
she was crying. Oh, Aunty!"
That "Oh, Aunty!" settled it. "Yes, child, tell Thomas to drive to Miss
Barnard's, and get in."
So Polly, seeing a little light on what had been so dark and miserable,
hopped into the carriage, and off they went to Miss Barnard's.
Miss Hetty Barnard was a maiden lady upon whose company Miss Rhys placed
herself whenever the dull routine of boarding-house life, or a new
stitch in knitting or crochet, gave her a desire for the society of her
friend. All such visits Alexia carefully avoided if a possible thing.
And Polly, knowing full well the details of those enforced upon her by
her aunt, as Alexia, the day after, poured the miseries of each in her
ear, sat forward on the green leather seat and clasped her hands,
impatient to get there.
"Oh, if they only haven't gone in to tea," she breathed.
"It's early yet, child," said Mrs. Whitney, reassuringly, "scarcely half
after five o'clock," glancing at the little silver watch in the carriage
pocket before her; "so don't worry, Polly."
"But Miss Barnard has tea so very early," said Polly, in a small panic.
"Oh, here we are!" she brought up gleefully, as the carriage rolled up
to the Barnard door and stopped.
"Yes, here we are," laughed Mrs. Whitney, just as well pleased, as Polly
jumped out and ran up the steps.
Polly hadn't half finished, "Is Alexia Rhys here, and can I see her?"
before a rustle began in the stuffy little parlor, and out rushed the
object of her search.
"Oh, Polly, Polly!" exclaimed Alexia, seizing her with both hands to
draw her down the hall; her head sank on Polly's shoulder and she began
to cry as hard as she could.
"Ow!" said Polly, as the tears ran down her neck; "O dear me, Alexia, do
stop!"
"Oh, I can't," said Alexia, "and do take me away, Polly, for it's too
dreadful here, and we're just going out to tea, and I never can live
through it. O dear!"
"Well, I'm going to," said Polly, as soon as she could be heard.
"What!" exclaimed Alexia, bounding away to look at her.
"Yes, if your Aunt will let you come," said Polly, with happy little
thrills.
"Oh, Aunt will let me quick enough," said Alexia; "but do you really
mean it? O dear, it'll be 'most as bad at your house, for there's Mrs.
Whitney, and I tore that lace,--oh, I can't go!"
"You must come; Aunty Whitney is out in the carriage, and we've come for
you, and you are to stay all night," explained Polly; "don't you see,
Alexia, she wants you?"
"Does she? Oh, goody," and, "O dear, how can she?" was jumbled all up by
Alexia, who was now hugging and kissing Polly at a great rate.
"Tea is ready." A thin little woman, who was alternately feeling of her
brooch and smoothing down her plaid silk gown as she came along the
hall, announced it so suddenly that both girls jumped.
"Oh, I can't stay, Miss Barnard," said Alexia, recovering herself; "I'm
going home with Polly Pepper," and without another word she ran back
into the stuffy little parlor to announce that fact to her Aunt.
"And whom have we here?" demanded little Miss Barnard, who hadn't half
heard Alexia, and peering out of small, near-sighted eyes into the
corner where Polly stood.
"It's Polly Pepper," said Polly, coming out into the light, "and I've
come for Alexia; that is--"
"To be sure, to be sure, now I know you," Miss Barnard raised her hands,
"and how you grow, Polly,"--a remark the little maiden lady never failed
to make when seeing any of the young folks at close enough, range to
speak to. "Well, and do you want to take Alexia away? Why can't you stay
to tea with her? I wish you would; my maid has quite enough prepared.
Quite enough, indeed," and Miss Barnard waved her hands to indicate the
extent of her larder.
"Oh, I can't, indeed, Miss Barnard," cried Polly, hastily. "And Aunty
Whitney is waiting out in the carriage. Would you please tell Alexia to
hurry?"
"Is Mrs. Whitney out in the carriage?" cried Miss Barnard, catching at
this desirable information and letting everything else slip. "Oh, then,
I must speak to her; surely I must, for I wouldn't be so rude as to let
her be at my door without a word from me. Elvira," she thrust her head
into the small parlor to throw a word over to Miss Rhys, who was just
saying "Yes" to Alexia, "I'll be with you in a bit; I must first speak
to my dear friend, Mrs. Whitney."
"It's very cold," said Polly, as the little maiden lady laid her hand on
the knob of the front door. Alexia was frantically throwing on her hat
and coat in the dim recesses of the back hall.
"That may be, but I wouldn't neglect my duty," said Miss Barnard, with
the air of knowing what was required of her; "but perhaps I had best be
careful," pausing with her hand on the knob, "so would you mind, my
dear, handing my shawl; you will find it on the hat-rack at the end of
the hall."
So Polly had nothing to do but to go down after it.
"The very idea," exclaimed Alexia, in smothered wrath, "to ask you to
get her old shawl!"
"Hush!" begged Polly, with a warning pinch.
"And just think of her going out to see Mrs. Whitney! Come on, Polly, I
know the way to the back door," and she seized Polly's arm.
But Polly got away, and carried the shawl down to Miss Barnard and laid
it over the wiry little shoulders; and at last the front door was
opened.
"My dear Mrs. Whitney," exclaimed the little maiden lady, skipping out
to the carriage step, and holding out both hands, "you don't know how
very glad I am to see you here; now do get out and have tea with Miss
Rhys and me."
"Oh, it is quite impossible, Miss Barnard," said Mrs. Whitney, "thank
you. Now, girlies," with a smile over the little maiden lady's head to
Polly and Alexia, "step in, both of you, for we must hurry home."
"O dear, I am so sorry," cried Miss Barnard, as the girls rushed to
obey; then she gave a little cackle, intended to be very winning,
"perhaps some time you will come, my dear Mrs. Whitney, I should _so_
admire to have you--hee-hee."
"How Aunt can--" began Alexia, as the good-bys were said and the
carriage door slammed and away they went. "Polly Pepper, I've just
killed your foot, I know, but I couldn't help stepping all over you, for
that dreadful woman fluttered me so. O dear, and I haven't said anything
to Mrs. Whitney," and Alexia could feel her sallow cheek grow hot and
red.
"I'll forgive you," said Mrs. Whitney, with a little laugh.
"And how Aunt can take up with her," finished Alexia in vexation, "O
dear me, I can't see."
"She has some good qualities," said Mrs. Whitney, kindly; "we must
remember that."
"Well, I don't know where they are," fumed Alexia. "She's quite the most
odious person I ever saw, and I'm so tired of her everlastingly coming
to see Aunt. Oh, Polly!" She gave such a cry of distress that both Polly
and Mrs. Whitney turned in dismay. "I can't go, I can't go; I forgot my
nose and eyes. I cried so, see how they look!" She leaned forward in the
carriage to display them the better.
"Is that all?" exclaimed Mrs. Whitney, with a sigh of relief; while
Polly cried, "Oh, Alexia, that's no matter," comfortingly, "and they
don't show so very much; really they don't."
"And then that lace." Alexia, now that she was really on the way to be
comforted, began to feel all the first distress of the accident
over-whelming her again. "O dear, I am so sorry, Mrs. Whitney!" she
mumbled shamefacedly.
"Now, Alexia," and Mrs. Whitney leaned over and put both hands on the
anxious face, then she drew it down and set a kiss where a stream of
tears had run, "do you know, dear, you will make me feel badly if you
ever speak of that lace again, or worry about it, child." She turned the
other cheek, and dropped a soft kiss on it. "Promise now, say you will
not."
"I won't," mumbled Alexia, looking up into the blue eyes, and she didn't
speak another word till safe up in Polly's room.
Then she shut the door and marched up to her.
"She kissed me, she really did, and twice, and just as if she really
wanted to! And no one has ever done that but you, Polly Pepper, and I'll
love her just forever!"
XI
AN AFTERNOON CALL
And so the real Christmas rang its joy-bells, passing over the King
household as if such a thing as a holiday was never thought of.