And presently there was a nice little bow standing up on the back of
Sinbad's neck; and as there didn't seem to be any ends to speak of,
there was nothing to distract his attention from the responsibility of
watching all the people.
"Oh, isn't he _beautiful_!" cried Phronsie in a transport, and hopping
up and down to clap her hands. "Grandpapa dear, do look; and I've told
Princey all about him, and given him a ribbon too, so he won't feel
badly."
And after this excitement had died down, Joel whirled around. "Tom's
brought his banjo," he announced.
"Oh!" exclaimed Polly.
"And he can sing," cried Joel, thinking it best to mention all the
accomplishments at once.
"Don't, Joe," begged Tom, twitching his sleeve.
Polly looked over at Jasper, with sparkling eyes, and the color flew
into her cheeks.
"Splendid!" his eyes signalled back.
"What is it?" cried Joel, giving each a sharp glance. "Now you two have
secrets; and that's mean, when we've just got home. What is it, Polly?"
He ran to her, shaking her arm.
"You'll see in time," said Polly, shaking him off, to dance away.
"I don't want to know in time," said Joel, "I want to know now. Mamsie,
what is it?"
"I'm sure I haven't the least idea," said Mother Fisher, who hadn't
heard Joel's announcement. "And I think you would do better, Joey, to
take care of your guest, and let other things wait."
"Oh, Tom doesn't want to be fussed over," said Joel carelessly; yet he
went back to the tall boy standing quite still, in the midst of the
general hilarity. "That's just the way Ben and Polly used to do in the
little brown house," he grumbled--"always running away, and hiding their
old secrets from me, Tom."
"Well, we had to, if we ever told each other anything," said Ben coolly.
"Joel everlastingly tagged us about, Beresford."
"Well, I had to, if I ever heard anything," burst out Joel, with a
laugh. "Come on, Tom," and he bore him off together with Sinbad.
"Polly," Jasper was saying, the two now being off in a corner, "how
fine! Now, perhaps Tom Beresford will sing."
"And play," finished Polly, with kindling face. "Oh Jasper, was anything
ever so gorgeous!" she cried joyfully, for Polly dearly loved
high-sounding words; "and we'll sell a lot more tickets, because he's
new, and people will want to hear him."
"If he will do it," said Jasper slowly, not wanting to dampen her
anticipation, but dreadfully afraid that the new boy might not respond.
"Oh, he'll do it, I do believe," declared Polly confidently; "he must,
Jasper, help about that poor brakeman's family."
And he did. Tom Beresford evidently made up his mind, when he went home
with Joel, to do everything straight through that the family asked him,
for he turned out to be the best visitor they had entertained, and one
and all pronounced him capital. All but Joel himself, who told him very
flatly the second day that he wasn't half as nice as at school, for he
was now running at everybody's beck and nod.
"Instead of yours," said Tom calmly. Then he roared.
"Hush up," cried Joel, very uncomfortable, and getting very red. "Well,
you must acknowledge, Tom, that I want to see something of you, else why
would I have brought you home, pray tell?"
"Nevertheless, I shall do what your sister Polly and your mother and
Jasper and Mr. King ask me to do," said Tom composedly, which was all
Joel got for his fuming. And the most that he saw of Tom after that was
a series of dissolving views, for even Phronsie began to monopolize him,
being very much taken with his obliging ways.
At last Joel took to moping, and Ben found him thus in a corner.
"See here, old fellow, that's a nice way,--to come home on a holiday,
and have such a face. I don't wonder you want to sneak in here."
"It's pretty hard," said Joel, trying not to sniffle, "to have a fellow
you bring home from school turn his back on you."
"Well, he couldn't turn his back on you," said Ben, wanting very much to
laugh, but he restrained himself, "if you went with him."
"I can't follow him about," said Joel, in a loud tone of disgust. "He's
twanging his old banjo all the time, and Polly's got him to sing, and
he's practising up. I wish 'twas smashed."
"What?" said Ben, only half comprehending.
"Why, his old banjo. I didn't think he'd play it all the time," said
Joel, who was secretly very proud of his friend's accomplishments; and
he displayed a very injured countenance.
"See here, now, Joe," said Ben, laying a very decided hand on Joel's
jacket, "do you just drop all this, and come out of your hole. Aren't
you ashamed, Joe! Run along, and find Beresford, and pitch into whatever
he's doing."
"I can't do anything for that old concert," said Joel, who obeyed enough
to come "out of the old hole," but stood glancing at Ben with sharp
black eyes.
"I don't know about that," said Ben, "you can at least help to get the
tickets ready."
"Did Polly say so?" demanded Joel, all in a glow. "Say, Ben, did she?"
advancing on him.
"No, but I do; for Polly asked me to do them; and you know, Joe, how
busy I am all day."
He didn't say "how tired" also, but Joel knew how Ben was working at
Cabot and Van Meter's, hoping to get into business life the sooner, to
begin to pay Grandpapa back for all his kindness.
"Ben, if I can help you with those tickets I'll do it." Every trace of
Joel's grumpiness had flown to the four winds. "Let me, will you?" he
begged eagerly.
"All right." Ben had no need to haul him along, as Joel raced on ahead
up to Ben's room to get the paraphernalia.
"I can't think what's become of Joel," said Polly, flying down the long
hall in great perplexity, "we want him dreadfully. Have you seen him,
Phronsie?"
"No," said Phronsie, "I haven't, Polly," and a look of distress came
into her face.
"Never mind, Pet," said Polly, her brow clearing, "I'll find him soon."
But Phronsie watched Polly fly off, with a troubled face. Then she said
to herself, "I ought to find Joey for Polly," and started on a tour of
investigation to suit herself.
Meanwhile Ben was giving Joel instructions about the tickets; and Joel
presently was so absorbed he wouldn't have cared if all the Tom
Beresfords in the world had deserted him, as he bent over his task,
quite elated that he was helping Polly, and becoming one of the
assistants to make the affair a success.
"I guess it's going to be a great thing, Ben," he said, looking up a
moment from the pink and yellow pasteboard out of which he was cutting
the tickets.
"You better believe so," nodded Ben, hugely delighted to see Joe's good
spirits, when the door opened, and in popped Phronsie's yellow head.
She ran up to Joel. "Oh Joey!" she hummed delightedly, "I've found you,"
and threw herself into his arms.
Joel turned sharply, knife in hand. It was all done in an instant.
Phronsie exclaimed, "_Oh!_" in such a tone that Ben, off in the corner
of the room, whirled around, to see Joel, white as a sheet, holding
Phronsie. "I've killed her," he screamed.
Ben sprang to them. The knife lay on the table, where Joel had thrown
it, a little red tinge along the tip. Ben couldn't help seeing it as he
dashed by, with a groan.
"Give her to me," he commanded hoarsely.
"No, no--I'll hold her," persisted Joel, through white lips, and hanging
to Phronsie.
"Give her to me, and run down for Father Fisher."
"It doesn't hurt much, Joey," said Phronsie, holding up her little arm.
A small stream of blood was flowing down, and she turned away her head.
Joel took one look, and fled with wild eyes. "I don't believe it's very
bad," Ben made himself call after him hoarsely. "Now, Phronsie, you'll
sit in my lap--there; and I'll keep this old cut together as well as I
can. We must hold your arm up, so, child." Ben made himself talk as fast
as he could to keep Phronsie's eyes on him.
"I got cut in the little brown house once, didn't I, Bensie?" said
Phronsie, and trying to creep up further into Ben's lap.
"You must sit straight, child," said Ben. Oh, would Father Fisher and
Mamsie ever come! for the blood, despite all his efforts, was running
down the little arm pretty fast.
"Why, Ben?" asked Phronsie, with wide eyes, and wishing that her arm
wouldn't ache so, for now quite a smart pain had set in. "Why, Bensie?"
and thinking if she could be cuddled, it wouldn't be quite so bad.
"Why, we must hold your arm up stiff," said Ben, just as Mamsie came up
to her baby, and took her in her arms; and then Phronsie didn't care
whether the ache was there or not.
"Joe couldn't help it," said Ben brokenly.
"I believe that," Mother Fisher said firmly. "Oh Ben, the doctor is
away."
Ben started. "I'll go down to the office; perhaps he's there."
"No; there's no chance. I've sent for Dr. Pennell. Your father likes
him. Now Phronsie"--Mrs. Fisher set her white lips together
tightly--"you and I and Ben will see to this arm of yours. Ben, get one
of your big handkerchiefs."
"It doesn't ache so _very_ much, Mamsie," said Phronsie, "only I would
like to lay it down."
"And that is just what we can't do, Phronsie," said Mother Fisher
decidedly. "All right," to Ben, "now tear it into strips."
Old Mr. King was not in the library when Joel had rushed down with his
dreadful news, but was in Jasper's den, consulting with him and Polly
about the program for the entertainment, as Polly and Jasper, much to
the old gentleman's delight, never took a step without going to him for
advice. The consequence was that these three did not hear of the
accident till a little later, when the two Whitney boys dashed in with
pale faces, "Phronsie's hurt," was their announcement, which wouldn't
have been given so abruptly had not each one been so anxious to get
ahead of the other.
Old Mr. King, not comprehending, had turned sharply in his chair to
stare at them.
"Hush, boys," warned Polly, hoarsely pointing to him; "is Mamsie with
her?" She didn't dare to speak Phronsie's name.
"Yes," said Van, eager to communicate all the news, and hoping Percy
would not cut in. But Percy, after Polly's warning, had stood quite
still, afraid to open his mouth.
Jasper was hunting in one of his drawers for an old book his father had
wished to see. So of course he hadn't heard a word.
"Here it is, father," he cried, rushing back and whirling the
leaves--"why, what?" for he saw Polly's face.
"Oh Jasper--don't," said Polly brokenly.
"Why do you boys rush in, in this manner?" demanded old Mr. King
testily. "And, Polly, child, what is the matter?"
"Grandpapa," cried Polly, rushing over to him to put her arms around his
neck, "Phronsie is hurt someway. I don't believe it is much," she
gasped, while Jasper ran to his other side.
"Phronsie hurt!" cried old Mr. King in sharp distress. "Where is she?"
Then Percy, seeing it was considered time for communication of news,
struck in boldly; and between the two, all that was known of Joel's wild
exclamations was put before them. All this was told along the hall and
going over the stairs; for Grandpapa, holding Polly's hand, with Jasper
hurrying fast behind them, was making good time up to Ben's room.
"And Dr. Fisher can't be found," shouted Van, afraid that the whole
would not be told. Polly gave a shiver that all her self-control could
not help.
"But Joel's gone for Dr. Pennell," screamed Percy; "Mrs. Fisher sent
him."
"He's very good," said Jasper comfortingly. So this is the way they came
into Ben's room.
"Oh, here's Grandpapa!" cooed Phronsie, trying to get down from Mamsie's
lap.
"Oh, no, Phronsie," said Mrs. Fisher, "you must sit still; it's better
for your arm."
"But Grandpapa looks sick," said Phronsie.
"Bless me--oh, you poor lamb, you!" Old Mr. King went unsteadily across
the room, and knelt down by her side.
"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, stroking his white face, "see, it's all tied
up high."
"Sit still, Phronsie," said Mrs. Fisher, keeping her fingers on the cut.
Would the doctor ever come? Besides Joel, Thomas and several more
messengers were despatched with orders for Dr. Pennell and to find Dr.
Fisher, with the names of other doctors if these failed. God would send
some one of them soon, she knew.
Phronsie obediently sat quite still, although she longed to show
Grandpapa the white bandages drawn tightly around her arm. And she
smoothed his hair, while he clasped his hands in her lap.
"I want Polly," she said presently.
"Stay where you are, Polly," said her mother, who had telegraphed this
before with her eyes, over Phronsie's yellow hair.
Polly, at the sound of Phronsie's voice, had leaned forward, but now
stood quite still, clasping her hands tightly together.
"Speak to her, Polly," said Jasper.
But Polly shook her head, unable to utter a sound.
"Polly, you must," said Jasper, for Phronsie was trying to turn in her
mother's lap, and saying in a worried way, "Where's Polly? I want
Polly."
"Polly is over there," said Mamsie, "but I do not think it's best for
her to come now. But she'll speak to you, Phronsie."
"How funny!" laughed Phronsie. "Polly can't come, but she'll talk across
the room."
Everything turned black before Polly's eyes; but she began, "Yes, Pet,
I'm here," very bravely.
"I am so glad you are there, Polly," said Phronsie, easily satisfied.
Footsteps rapid and light were heard on the stairs. Polly and Jasper
flew away from the doorway to let Dr. Pennell, his little case in his
hand, come in.
"Well, well!" he exclaimed cheerily, "so now it's Phronsie; I'm coming
to her this time," for he had often dropped in to call or to dine since
the railway accident.
"Yes," said Phronsie, with a little laugh of delight, for she very much
liked Dr. Pennell. He always took her on his lap, and told her stories;
and he had a way of tucking certain little articles in his pockets to
have her hunt for them. So they had gotten on amazingly well.
"Why, where--" Phronsie began in a puzzled way.
"Is Dr. Fisher?" Dr. Pennell finished it for her, rapidly going on with
his work. "Well, he'll be here soon, I think. And you know he always
likes me to do things when he isn't on hand. So I've come."
"And I like you very much," said Phronsie, wriggling her toes in
satisfaction.
"I know that; we are famous friends, Phronsie," said the doctor, with
one of those pleasant smiles of his that showed his white teeth.
"What's famous?" asked Phronsie, keeping her grave eyes on his face.
"Oh, fine; it means first-rate. We are fine friends, aren't we,
Phronsie?"
"Yes, we are," declared Phronsie, bending forward to see his work the
better, and taking her eyes from his face.
"There, there, you must sit quite straight. That's a nice child,
Phronsie. And see here! I must take you sometime in my carriage when I
go on my calls. Will you go, Phronsie?" and Dr. Pennell smiled again.
"Yes, I will." Phronsie nodded her yellow head, while she fastened her
eyes on his face. "I used to go with Papa Fisher when I was at the
little brown house, and I liked it; I did."
"Well, and now you will go with me," laughed Dr. Pennell. "Now,
Phronsie, I think you are fixed up quite nicely," slipping the various
articles he had used, deftly into his little bag, and snapping it to.
"Not a very bad affair," he said, whirling around to old Mr. King, drawn
deeply within a big chair, having already telegraphed the same to Mother
Fisher over Phronsie's head.
"Thank the Lord!" exclaimed the old gentleman.
"Well, now I'm going to send every one out of the room," announced Dr.
Pennell, authoritatively. "Hurry now!" he clapped his hands and laughed.
Old Mr. King sat quite still, fully determined not to obey. But the
doctor, looking over him fixedly, seemed to expect him to leave; and
although he still had that pleasant smile, he didn't exactly give the
impression that his medical authority could be tampered with. So the old
gentleman found himself outside the door.
"And now, we must find Joel," Polly was saying to Jasper.
XVIII TOM'S STORY
Joel had no cause to complain now that Tom Beresford did not stick to
him, for there he was hanging over him as he crouched into as small a
heap as possible into a corner of Mamsie's sofa.
And there he had been ever since Joel had rushed in with Dr. Pennell;
when, not daring to trust himself up in Ben's room, he had dashed for
refuge to Mamsie's old sofa.
Tom had not wasted many words, feeling sure under similar circumstances
he shouldn't like to be talked to; but he had occasionally patted Joel's
stubby head in a way not to be misunderstood, and once in a while Joel
thrust out a brown hand which Tom had gripped fast.
"It's all right, old boy, I verily believe," Tom cried with sudden
energy, "so brace up; what's the use of your going to pieces, anyway?"
"It's Phronsie," gasped Joel, and burrowing deeper into the cushion.
"Well, I know it," said Tom, gulping down his sorrow, for he had petted
Phronsie a good deal; so he was feeling the blow quite sharply himself,
"but you won't help matters along any, I tell you, by collapsing."
"Go out into the hall, will you, Tom," begged Joel, huddling down,
unwilling to listen himself, "and see if you can hear anything."
So Tom skipping out into the wide upper hall, thankful for any action,
but dreading the errand, stole to the foot of the stairs, and craned his
ear to catch the faintest sound from above.
There was only a little murmur, for Dr. Pennell was in the midst of
operations, and not enough to report. Thankful that it was no worse, Tom
skipped back. "All's quiet along the Potomac."
"_Ugh!_" exclaimed Joel, burrowing deeper. Suddenly he threw himself up
straight and regarded Tom out of flashing eyes. "I've killed Phronsie,"
he cried huskily, "and you know it, and won't tell me!"
"Joel Pepper!" cried Tom, frightened half out of his wits, and rushing
to him; "lie down again," laying a firm hand on his shoulder.
"I won't," roared Joel wildly, and shaking him off. "You're keeping
something from me, Tom."
"You're an idiot," declared Tom, thinking it quite time to be
high-handed, "a first-class, howling idiot, Pepper, to act so. If you
don't believe me, when I say I haven't anything to keep back from you,
I'll go straight upstairs. Some one will tell me."
"Hurry along," cried Joel feverishly. But Tom had gotten no further than
the hall, when Joel howled, "Come back, Tom, I'll try--to--to bear it."
And Tom flying back, Joel was buried as far as his face went, in
Mamsie's cushion, sobbing as if his heart would break.
"It will disturb--them," he said gustily, in between his sobs.
Tom Beresford let him cry on, and thrust his hands in his pockets, to
stalk up and down the room. He longed to whistle, to give vent to his
feelings; but concluding that wouldn't be understood, but be considered
heartless, he held himself in check, and counted the slow minutes, for
this was deadly tiresome, and beginning to get on his nerves. "I shall
screech myself before long, I'm afraid."
At last Joel rolled over. "Come here, do, Tom," and when Tom got there,
glad enough to be of use, Joel pulled him down beside the sofa, and
gripped him as only Joel could. "Do you mind, Tom? I want to hang on to
something."
"No, indeed," said Tom heartily, vastly pleased, although he was nearly
choked. "Now you're behaving better." He patted him on the back. "Hark,
Joe! The doctor's laughing!"
They could hear it distinctly now, and as long as he lived, Joel
thought, he never heard a sweeter sound. He sprang to his feet,
upsetting Tom, who rolled over on his back to the floor.
Just then in rushed Polly and Jasper, surrounding him, and in a minute,
"Oh, is Tom sick?"
"No," said Tom, picking himself up grimly, "only Joe's floored me, he
was so glad to hear the doctor laugh."
"Oh, you poor, poor boy!" Polly was mothering Joel now, just as Mamsie
would have done; and Tom looking on with all his eyes, as he thought of
his own home, with neither mother nor sister, didn't hear Jasper at
first. So Jasper pulled his arm.
"See here, Beresford, you and I will go down to the library, I think."
"All right," said Tom, allowing himself to be led off, though he would
much have preferred remaining.
"Now, Joel," said Polly, after they had gone, and the petting had
continued for some minutes, "you must just be a brave boy, and please
Mamsie, and stop crying," for Joel had been unable to stop the tears.
"I--I--didn't--see--Phronsie coming," wailed Joel afresh.
"Of course you didn't," said Polly, stroking his black curls. "Why, Joey
Pepper, did you think for an instant that any one blamed you?" She
leaned over and set some kisses, not disturbing Joel that some of them
fell on his stubby nose.
"N-no," said Joel, through the rain of drops down his cheeks, "but it
was Phronsie, Polly." It was no use to try to check him yet, for the
boy's heart was almost broken, and so Polly let him cry on. But she
bestowed little reassuring pats on his shaking shoulders, all the while
saying the most comforting things she could think of.
"And just think, Joey," she cried suddenly, "you were the one who found
Dr. Pennell. Oh, I should think you'd be so glad!"
"I am glad," said Joel, beginning to feel a ray of comfort.
"And how quickly you brought him, Joe!" said Polly, delighted at the
effect of her last remark.
"Did I?" said Joel in a surprised way, and roused out of his crying; "I
thought it was ever so long, Polly."
"I don't see how you ever did it, Joel, in all this world," declared
Polly positively.
Joel didn't say that it was because he was a sprinter at school, he
found himself equal to the job; nor did he think it of enough importance
to mention how many people he had run into, leaving a great amount of
vexation in his rear as he sped on.
"He was just going out of his door," he announced simply.
"Oh Joey!" gasped Polly. Then she hugged him rapturously. "But you
caught him."
"Yes, I caught him, and we jumped into his carriage; and that's all."
"But it was something to be always proud of," cried Polly, in a
transport.
Joel, feeling very glad that there was something to be proud of at all
in this evening's transactions, sat up quite straight at this, and
wiped his eyes.
"Now that's a good boy," said Polly encouragingly. "Mamsie will be very
glad." And she ran over to get a towel, dip it in the water basin, and
bring it back.
"Oh, that feels so good!" said Joel, with a wintry smile, as she sopped
his red eyelids and poor, swollen nose.
"So it must," said Polly pitifully, "and I'm going to bring the basin
here, and do it some more." Which she did; so that by the time Phronsie
was brought downstairs to sleep in Mrs. Fisher's room, Joel was quite
presentable.
"Here they come!" announced Polly radiantly, hearing the noise on the
stairs, and running back to set the basin and towel in their places.
"Now, Joey, you can see for yourself that Phronsie is all right."
And there she was, perched on Dr. Pennell's shoulder, to be sure, and
Mamsie hurrying in to her boy, and everything was just as beautiful as
it could be!
"See, Joel, I'm all fixed up nice," laughed Phronsie from her perch.
[Illustration: "SEE, JOEL, I'M ALL FIXED UP NICE," LAUGHED PHRONSIE FROM
HER PERCH.]
Joel's mouth worked dreadfully, but he saw Mamsie's eyes, so he piped up
bravely, "I'm so glad, Phronsie." It sounded very funnily, for it died
away in his throat, and he couldn't have said another word possibly; but
Phronsie was sleepy, and didn't notice. And then the doctor said they
must go out; so with a last glance at Phronsie, to be sure that she was
all right, Joel went off, Polly holding his hand.
The next evening they were all drawn up before the library fire; Polly
on the big rug with Joel's head in her lap, his eyes fixed on Phronsie,
who was ensconced in an easy-chair, close to which Grandpapa was
sitting.
"Tell stories, do, Polly," begged Van.
"Yes, do, Polly," said little Dick, who had spent most of the day in
trying to get near to Phronsie, keeping other people very much occupied
in driving him off, as she had to be very quiet. "Do, Polly," he begged.
"Oh, Polly's tired," said Jasper, knowing that she had been with
Phronsie all her spare time, and looking at the brown eyes which were
drooping a bit in the firelight.
"Oh, no, I will," said Polly, rousing herself, and feeling that she
ought not to be tired, when Phronsie was getting well so fast, and
everything was so beautiful. "I'll tell you one. Let me see, what shall
it be about?" and she leant her head in her hands to think a bit.
"Let her off," said Jasper; "do, boys. I'll tell you one instead," he
said.
"No, we don't want yours," said Van, not very politely. "We want
Polly's."
"For shame, Van!" said Percy, who dearly loved to reprove his brother,
and never allowed the occasion to slip when he could do so.