lunge, she twitched out the middle piece, so very tiny it was scarcely
worth being there at all.
"Hoh, hoh!" snickered Mark. And Luke gave a little crow. Badly as he
should miss Elvira, he wouldn't for the world want her to lose the
chance of going.
"Now, Elvira."
"Oh, I'm goin'," she said, confidently, laying hold of the outside
piece.
Luke trembled; that couldn't be the one. Out it came,--there was a
second's lull,--and a strip so long it had to be doubled up in the
middle was flying from her hand.
"I told you I was goin'," she said.
XVI
WHO WILL HELP?
The Van Ruypen butler came down the rose-tinted room, known as madam's
boudoir, with his usual soft, catlike tread, and stood by her very chair
for a moment without being seen. She appeared lost in thought, her head
bent on her hand, and her right foot tapping impatiently on the carpet.
"If you please, madam," said the serving-man, with a little apologetic
cough to announce his presence, "I--"
"Well," interrupted his mistress, sharply, and lifting her head with an
impatient gesture, "what is it, Hooper?" Then, without waiting for an
answer, she got out of her chair, and went quickly across the apartment
to her writing-desk. "I want you to take a note to Mr. King's, to little
Miss Pepper," and she began to write hastily, and as if no very good
humor inspired her thought.
"If you please, madam," said Hooper, obsequiously, "little Master Pepper
is downstairs now."
"Hey? What is that you are saying?" demanded the old lady, throwing down
her pen to turn away from the writing-table.
"He's downstairs," repeated Hooper, "the little Pepper lad."
"Which one?" cried madam, quickly.
"_The_ one, madam," said the butler; "I don't know his name."
"Then it must be Joel," said the old lady, and a smile of great
satisfaction began to run over her strongly marked face. "Show him up at
once, Hooper; at once," she added, with an imperious wave of her hand
that set all the heirlooms of rings to shining at a great rate.
"Yes, madam," said Hooper, getting out on his errand as expeditiously as
possible.
"To think that Joel has really come!" she exclaimed to herself joyfully.
She deserted her writing-table now and began to walk up and down the
apartment, her long fingers nervously playing with the silken cord of
her elaborate morning gown. "Oh, Joel," as her restless feet brought her
near the door, "there you are, my boy."
"Yes'm," said Joel, wholly miserable, and leaning against the casing,
with his black eyes fastened on the staircase, as if the way to Paradise
lay there.
"Well, come in. Don't stand there any longer. Pray come in." She waved
her hand authoritatively toward the centre of the apartment, then
followed him, as he crept dismally in. "Now sit down," she said, in her
most sociable way.
So Joel sat down and fastened his eyes on the beautiful red velvet
carpet.
"So you've come to see me this time, instead of my going to call on
you," said Madam Van Ruypen, to set him at his ease.
"Yes'm," said Joel, "Mamsie made me come."
"That's not very polite," observed the old lady, dryly. Which so added
to Joel's confusion, that he folded his small brown hands together
tightly, with a wild idea of springing off down the long stairs and out
of the big house--but Mamsie. Oh, he couldn't do it! So he sat still,
hardly daring to breathe.
"However, it doesn't signify, since you are here," Madam Van Ruypen went
on, her eyes twinkling, which, of course, Joel couldn't see, as he
didn't dare to look up. Then she burst out suddenly into a laugh, long
and loud, from which it seemed so difficult for her to get free, that at
last Joel tore his gaze off from the carpet and stared at her in terror.
"Oh, I'm through," said the old lady, wiping her eyes; "dear me, and I
haven't laughed so for many a day. No, no, Lizette," to the French maid,
who popped in her white-capped head at the unwonted noise, "I'm not
going to have a fit. Go back to your work. Now then, Joel, do you know
what I wanted to see you for, and the errand that made me take all the
trouble to call on you the other day?"
"No'm," said Joel, all his misery returning, and hanging his head again.
"Well, you see, I was in great trouble."
Joel looked up quickly. Then his head fell again, to think how he had
acted--and she, the rich old Madam Van Ruypen, in trouble! In the first
place he couldn't believe his ears; but worse than ever it was for him
that he had been bad at such a time.
"The _greatest_ trouble," said the old lady, whereat Joel's chin went
lower yet, and his hands twisted together miserably.
"You see Ben, who is the really sensible one among you Peppers," said
Madam Van Ruypen, bluntly, "and the one I rely on, wasn't at home. And
to think I had gotten myself into such a scrape. Joel, you can't think,
I was just about frantic!" She leaned forward, resting both hands on her
knees.
"Oh, what was it? What was it?" cried Joel, forgetting all else except
this dreadful thing that had happened to her, and, hopping off from his
chair, he ran over to her, clutching her morning gown with excited
fingers.
Madam Van Ruypen put both strong hands on his shoulders. "I'd gone and
written to that washerwoman up in the country to send down some of her
children for a visit here. Think of that, Joel Pepper; I must have been
crazy!"
Joel drew a long breath, his black eyes fastened on her face.
"And I don't know any more what to do with children, nor what to say to
them, for that matter," declared the old lady, dropping her hands in her
lap, "than--" she cast her eyes about the apartment, "that table there,"
bringing them up to the nearest article.
"So I went for you in my trouble," she continued--Joel, not thinking of
anything to say, wisely keeping still. "You understand, Joel," with a
keen glance at him, "you aren't anyway to be compared with Ben, but
seeing I couldn't get him, and two of the three children that are coming
are boys, why, I had to make you do to help me out."
"Are some boys coming?" asked Joel, finding his tongue.
"Yes," said the old lady. "Oh, didn't I tell you? I wrote to the mother
to send the two biggest boys and one girl--I couldn't take any more than
one girl, but she'll be a quiet, gentle little thing, of course, and
keep the boys civilized. That's what I wanted her for."
"Ugh!" exclaimed Joel in great disgust, and digging the toes of one foot
well into the thick carpet.
"Oh, she won't trouble you, Joel," said the old lady, confidently;
"she'll want to play with dolls all the time. I will keep her supplied.
And if she should get discontented, why I'll ask Polly what to do. But
what I want to know from you, Joel, is, will you help me out with those
boys?"
Madam Van Ruypen grasped him again by the shoulders to look him squarely
in the face. "Will you, Joel?"
"Pip is coming home with Ben and Jasper," said Joel, irrelevantly.
"What? Not that boy who almost killed Jasper King?" cried Madam Van
Ruypen, and letting her hands again fall, this time in sheer
astonishment.
"He didn't," contradicted Joel, bluntly.
"Well, he was the cause of it, anyway," said the old lady,
inconsequently, "so never mind, we won't waste words about him. I
wouldn't have believed that Mr. King would do such a thing. Dear me, I
shouldn't want ever to see the boy again."
"Well, Grandpapa does," said Joel, bobbing his black head, "'cause he's
going to bring him; an' I'm glad of it."
"Well, supposing this boy, this Pip, does come," said Madam Van Ruypen,
much discomfited, "what of it? That won't make any difference about
helping me out with these two dreadful ones I've gone and fastened
myself up with. Now will you do it, Joel? You must."
"I've got to help about Pip," said Joel, reluctantly.
"Pip! Well, who cares about your Pip?" began the old lady in an
autocratic way.
"I've got to help about Pip," said Joel again, and beginning to back
slowly away from her.
"See here, Joel!" she exclaimed in alarm, and seizing the end of his
blouse, "you won't refuse to help me? Just think of it, I don't in the
least know what to say to boys, let alone entertaining them--and they're
coming, Joel Pepper, they actually are!"
She dropped the blouse-end and wrung her hands together. "And that
minister is going to send them along. Like enough they'll get here
to-day, although he hasn't telegraphed yet. And what shall I do, in
Heaven's name!" She was so nervous by this time that it was impossible
for her to sit still, so she got off from her chair and began to pace up
and down the room, with long, excited steps.
"I've got to help about Pip," said Joel again, and standing quite still
by her deserted chair.
"Well, don't you say that again," commanded the old lady in an angry
tone, and not pausing in her walk. "Help about your Pip if you want to,
Joel Pepper. I'm sure I don't care if your Grandfather is foolish enough
to burden himself with that dreadful boy. And I guess I'll telegraph to
Mr. what's-his-name--the minister--oh, St. John, to keep those children
back. They can stay in their poor old cabin for all me. I can't have
them here," and she turned off to the writing-table.
"Oh, no, don't, don't," screamed Joel, flying after her. "I'll help you.
Let 'em come--I will!"
"No, you don't want to," said the old lady, perversely. "I see it in
your face, Joel." She turned and looked at him keenly. "It's no use,
those children can't get this chance. They must stay at home."
"Let them come," howled Joel. Then he laid hold of her gown and
blubbered into it. "O dear! _Please_ let 'em come!"
Just then in came Hooper, who appeared not to notice the astonishing
state of things as he held out to his mistress a yellow envelope, and
then discreetly retired.
"It's well you promised, Joel," said Madam Van Ruypen, grimly, throwing
down the yellow sheet, which she tore out of the envelope, "and it was
just in the nick of time. Those children are on the way, and will be
here this afternoon."
* * * * *
Meantime an express train from another direction was rapidly bearing the
party from the Presbrey School. And at this identical minute Pip was
pressing his thin little face against the window-pane, as he had slipped
from his parlor chair to rest his tired legs. "What would it be like to
go to Ben's house and be with him all the time?" For Pip never for a
moment lost sight of the fact that it was Ben, and Ben alone, who was
all the world to him.
He stood so for some minutes, his gaze idly resting on the flying
landscape, of which he could not have told a single feature. Then he
gave a long sigh and glanced longingly across the aisle at Ben,
comfortable in his chair over a book, for Jasper was asleep in the chair
ahead. Besides, he wasn't to be talked to, so the doctor had given
orders, on the home journey.
"Hey--what is it?" Ben in turning a page happened to glance up and catch
a glimpse of the earnest little eyes.
"Nothing," Pip tried to say, but he made no success of it.
"Oh, come over here," said Ben, in a low voice, because of Jasper. And
tossing aside the book, he crowded Pip in next to his window. "Now then,
sir, what is it?"
"Nothing," said Pip, in a joyful little way. He could say it now, as he
had what he wanted--Ben to himself.
Ben leaned over and picked up his book. "You can have a nice time
looking out of the window, eh, Pip?"
"Yes," said Pip, but his thin little face fell, and he turned it away to
cast a dismal glance on what he didn't care in the least to see.
Ben found his place in the book and plunged in. Was Bob really to be
pursued by the shark, or would the good sailor who had befriended him
before, save him now? He read on--whirled a page--what was that, a sigh?
He glanced quickly around his book, and took one look at Pip. "Oh, say,"
he broke out, and down the book went to the floor, "what shall we do
now, I wonder?"
"Do you mean it; are we going to do anything, Ben?" cried Pip, in a
joyful voice, and whirling around in great excitement.
"Yes--hush, we might wake Jasper," warned Ben, but he smiled into the
happy little face. "It must be something quiet, you know." He threw his
arm around the small figure and drew it down beside him on the parlor
chair. "There's room enough for us both, isn't there?" he said
pleasantly.
"You're so awful big," said Pip, squirming in, and snuggling up to Ben
as tightly as he could in quite an ecstatic frame of mind. "Oh, I wish
you'd draw something, Ben, I really do."
"Well, so I will," said Ben, after a bit of consideration. "Now then,
you sit still and I'll get my bag," which he soon did, from the rack
overhead. And extracting the drawing materials, every movement being
superintended by Pip in the greatest satisfaction, he soon had them all
laid out, ready to begin operations.
"Well, sir, and now what shall we draw?" he asked, balancing his pencil
thoughtfully on his fingers.
Pip turned around, his pale eyes searching the parlor car in all
directions. "Draw that old woman," he said at last, pointing to the
subject of his choice; "she's awful funny."
"Hush!" said Ben, pulling down his finger.
"Oh, no, I couldn't draw the people in the car; they wouldn't like it.
Choose something else, Pip."
"There isn't anything else," said Pip, in a disconsolate voice.
"Everything outside is running so fast."
"I tell you, I'll draw something from memory," said Ben, quickly. "I'll
show you the little brown house where I used to live--that'll be nice.
You'd like that, Pip."
"Yes," said Pip, "I should."
If Ben said so, that was quite enough, so he crowded as closely to the
scene of operations as he could get.
"See here," said Ben, twisting off, "you don't leave me room enough. You
mustn't crowd so, Pip."
"I can't see, then," said Pip, dreadfully disappointed.
"Well, I tell you, get on my other side, then,--there, that's fine," as
Pip hopped over. "Now my right hand is free. Well, here goes!" And in
two minutes the little brown house began to stare right up at them from
the paper, and Ben was drawing furiously away, until it seemed as if
every revolution of the car wheels was whirling them to Badgertown.
"Oh, do teach me to draw houses, Ben," cried Pip, as the little lane
down to Grandma Bascom's began to come in sight. "Do, Ben, please," he
begged.
"So I will," promised Ben, kindly. "Now you can take the pencil when
I've finished this, Pip, and I'll give you your first lesson."
"May I? May I?" and Pip ended up with a glad little crow.
"Hush! You'll wake Jasper," warned Ben. "Yes, and I'll sharpen you up a
nice new point on my best pencil, and you shall make a try. There, this
is almost done." He put in a few more strokes, and held it off to
examine with a critical eye, "All except a bit of shading in those
trees,--there, now it's all right," and he laid the sketch in Pip's
hands.
"I'm going to draw just like that," declared Pip, with the utmost
confidence, devouring the picture with his eyes.
"Oh, you'll draw one better than that, sometime," said Ben, laughing, as
he whittled away on his best pencil. "Now then, that _is_ a point for
you," and he held it up in satisfaction.
Pip seized the pencil, and made some quick, jerky strokes that snapped
the beautiful point quite off.
"O dear, dear!" he exclaimed, ready to cry.
"Never mind, we'll soon have another point on, just as good," said Ben,
reassuringly, opening his knife. "Now then, Pip, I'll begin your
lesson," holding up the pencil; "here you are, all ready."
"I want to draw a picture first, just as you did," said Pip, with an
eager hand for the pencil.
"You can't," said Ben, sturdily, "not the first go. You must learn how,
Pip."
"Let me try, do," begged Pip, earnestly, and his thin little face
twitched.
"Oh, well, you may if you want to," said Ben, laughing; "but you mustn't
be discouraged if you don't succeed. Now then, go at it if you wish."
For the next few moments nothing was to be heard but Pip's hard
breathing and the scratching of his fine pencil over the paper. Ben
yawned and looked longingly at the book on the floor. And there was Bob,
and the shark in full pursuit, with the prospect of the sailor putting
in an appearance at the last moment. No, it wouldn't do to desert
Pip--and--why, really there was something worth while coming on the big
piece of white paper. Ben leaned over the thin little figure. "Why,
Pip!"
Pip said nothing, but drew his breath harder yet, with every effort on
his work. He gripped the pencil as if it were to run away from him, and
bent lower yet to his task.
"Don't clutch it so; hold it easier," said Ben, laying his hand on the
little thin one, guiding the pencil.
Pip released his grasp for just one moment, then tightened it up again.
Seeing which, Ben wisely let him alone. "It'll make him nervous," he
said to himself, and turned his attention to watching the sketch grow.
"My goodness, to think he can draw like that!"
For there unmistakably was an old man, very withered and bent, holding
out his hand, and by his side a little girl in a tattered shawl. Anybody
with half an eye could see that the old beggar was blind, and that the
girl had been crying.
"Pip! why, where,"--Ben was beaming at him now, as Pip lifted his
face,--"how did you learn to draw like that?" and he seized the sketch.
It was very rough and uneven, but there they were, sure enough, the two
figures.
"I used to see them," said Pip, explaining. "They stood on the corner,
don't you know, when the master let us go up to town from school."
"Well, I guess you don't want any lessons from me," declared Ben, not
able to take his eyes from the picture.
"Oh, yes, I do, I do," cried Pip, in mortal terror that he was going to
lose the very thing above all others that he prized. "I'll tear it up,"
he cried, with a savage lunge at the picture, and venom written all over
his little pale face.
"No, you don't, sir," declared Ben, with a laugh, and holding the sketch
off at arm's length; "this picture is mine in return for the one I gave
you. And I'll teach you all I know, Pip, I really will. So now we will
set to work."
And the first thing that either of them knew, Grandpapa was leaning over
them and smiling, to say, "The next station, and we are home!"
XVII
"NOW WE CAN HAVE OUR CHRISTMAS!"
And so it turned out that Joel, who had to go down in the big brougham
with Madam Van Ruypen to meet the mountain children, only just got home
from that expedition in time to be whisked off to the other railroad
station with the welcoming party to meet Grandpapa, Jasper, and Ben--oh,
yes, and Pip!
"Whatever you do," Ben had taken special pains to write Joel long
before, "be glad to see Pip."
And then, nobody knew exactly how they got home. But they did all right,
and, of course, with a procession of friends to follow. There was
Alexia--why, it goes without saying that she was there--and Pickering
Dodge; Jasper wouldn't believe he was at home, really he wouldn't,
without seeing Pick's face, while Pick's voice cried out, "Hello, old
chap!" as no one else but Pickering could say it.
Well, and there was Pip's white little face with the scared eyes, for
somehow the turmoil made him dreadfully afraid he was going to lose
sight of Ben. So he clutched him with a desperate grip, getting in and
out between all the welcoming groups with marvellous dexterity.
"Hulloa there, you little beggar!" It was Pickering Dodge who seized
him. "Let Ben alone, can't you, a minute, till we've seen him." But the
small figure struggled, his little wiry legs becoming so nimble around
Pickering's longer ones, that the tall boy fell back. "Whew! Well, I
must say I wouldn't be in your shoes, Ben!"
Ben laughed, then put out his hand and gathered up the thin nervous
fingers.
"You can grin," said Pickering, as he moved off, "but I tell you it's no
laughing matter, Ben Pepper. You'd much better shake off that leech
while you can."
Meantime Joel had been making little runs around the group of which Ben
was the centre; each step that he took nearer Pip he would dart off
again in the opposite direction, only to think better of it and plunge
up once more. On one such occasion he caught Ben's blue eyes fixed upon
him reproachfully.
"Oh, I say, Pip," screamed Joel, prancing up, "come with me, I've lots
to show you."
For answer he got a grimace done in Pip's best style, who crowded closer
to Ben than before.
"You needn't then," said Joel, in a small passion. "Hoh! I don't really
want you, only--"
"Joel!" said Ben.
"Well, he's a--a--"
"Joel!" Ben said it again. "Come, Pip, with me," and the two turned off.
"Ben," screamed Joel, in a dreadful voice, and dashing after him to
seize his jacket-end. "Oh, I won't--I will, Ben, I'll be good."
"See that you are, then," said Ben, good-naturedly turning around. When
he saw the others were not looking, "Now then, and you too, Pip, for I'm
talking to you as much as to Joel, I expect you chaps to act like
sensible beings, and be good friends. Shake hands now, and say you
will."
Out flew Joel's sturdy brown paw. Pip drew his back, and glanced up at
Ben to see if he really meant it.
"Any boy who isn't willing to do what I asked, can't be my friend," said
Ben, coolly, and Pip felt his fingers shaken off from the big warm hand.
"Oh, Ben, I will be good, I will, Ben," cried the little fellow, in
great distress. He threw up both his hands and flung himself against
Ben.
"No, sir," said Ben, sturdily; "unless you shake hands with Joel, and
promise to be a good friend to him, you can't stay with me."
"Come on," said Joel, a light dancing in his black eyes, and he stuck
his little brown hand out more sociably yet. So Pip put his thin one
within it, and then he drew a long breath, as if a terrible ordeal had
just been passed.
"Well, he didn't bite you," said Ben, with a laugh, and taking
possession of the thin little fingers once more, "eh, Pip?"
"No, I didn't bite you, did I, Pip?" chuckled Joel, dancing on Ben's
other side. "Oh, Ben, now we can have our Christmas!"
"Yes, now we can have our Christmas!" The others racing after them took
up the cry.
"And we're going to have it to-morrow," piped Phronsie, standing on her
tiptoes. "Because Japser will be rested then, Grandpapa says."
"Oh, no, Phronsie," corrected Polly, dancing up, "not till day after
to-morrow. Jasper has to rest to-morrow, you know, after the journey."
Then she ran off to see if there was really nothing she could do to make
him comfortable. But little Doctor Fisher, who had come up in the
carriage with Jasper from the station, already had whisked him off to
his room, with injunctions for no one to see him again that day. So
Polly flew back again to hang over Ben and try to get acquainted with
Pip.
"He can draw. Oh, you just ought to see him, Polly," confided Ben over
Pip's tow-colored head.
"Really, Ben?" said Polly.
"Really?--well, I should say!" Then Ben laughed. "I wish I could do half
as well."
"Oh, Ben!" exclaimed Polly, incredulously. "Perhaps he can do something,
but he couldn't draw like you. He couldn't."
"Well," said Ben, with a long breath, "I only wish I could make my
things seem as if they moved, Polly. Now his do, and mine look stiff as
sticks."
"They don't either," contradicted Polly, with an uncomfortable little
twist. And she looked down at Pip not quite so pleasantly.
"What are you two chaffing about?" cried Alexia, rushing up with her
"whirlwind air" on, as Pickering always called it.
"Oh, something," said Ben, with twinkling eyes.
"Now tell me," said Alexia, greedily. "What was it, Ben?"
"Something," said Ben.
"You said that before," retorted Alexia.
"Well, and so I say it again," said Ben, coolly.
"What was it, Polly?" begged Alexia, seizing Polly's arm. "You've some
piece of news, I just know; do tell me what it is!"
"Oh, ask Ben," said Polly, catching his spirit of mischief.
"Oh, I never saw such perfectly dreadful creatures," cried Alexia,
tossing back her long light braids impatiently. "Nip--Flip--whatever
your name is,"--glancing down at Pip, "you tell me, that's a good boy.
What is it?"
"I shan't," said Pip, with a snap that brought his white teeth together
smartly.
"Well, you needn't take my head off," said Alexia, tumbling back.
"Pip, now you must beg her pardon," said Ben, coming out of his laugh.
"She told me to tell on you, and I'm not going to," said Pip, his pale
eyes flashing.
"Well, you needn't have refused in just such a way; so beg her pardon at
once, like a man," said Ben, decidedly.
"And I'm sure I didn't suppose that Mr. King had brought home a snapping
turtle," said Alexia, airily.
"There now, you see, Pip," said Ben, gravely, "how you will make trouble
for all of us unless you behave."