Polly's face appeared over Adela's shoulder. "Don't!" said Adela,
shrinking away into the corner of the big sofa, and putting her hands
over something she held in her lap.
"Excuse me!" exclaimed Polly, tumbling back in amazement. "I wasn't
looking. I don't want to see. I only meant to surprise you." She kept
backing off toward the door, the colour all over her round cheek.
"You mustn't get mad, Polly," cried Adela, flying up straight to look
at her, but still keeping her lap well covered.
Jasper, running in, heard the words. "Polly never gets mad," he said
slowly, standing quite still.
"Well, she is now--just as mad as can be," said Adela, in a fretful
little voice; "look at her."
"Oh, I'm not mad, Adela," began Polly, "only sorry. And it's my fault,
Jasper," seeing his face darken, "for I looked over her shoulder. I
only wanted to surprise her; and Adela, of course, thought I wanted to
see what she was doing."
"Yes," said Adela, "I did think so, Polly Pepper, and I don't want
anybody to see it." With that she huddled the thing, whatever it was,
down by her side, and ran out of the room as fast as she could go.
"A disagreeable creature," began Jasper, hotly; "and she's been a
perfect nuisance all along to take her everywhere. Now we drop her,
Polly." He looked more like his father at this moment than Polly had
ever seen him before.
"Oh, no, Jasper," she remonstrated in dismay.
"Yes, we drop her like a hot cake," said Jasper, decidedly; "that would
be my opinion, Polly."
"But we can't, she's so alone," went on Polly; "and, besides, she's
troubled about something. That's what makes her feel so."
"It's a queer way to bear trouble, I should think, to abuse you," said
Jasper, "when you've been bothering yourself about her all this time."
"Oh, I don't mind," said Polly, brightening up, "if only you won't talk
of our dropping her, Jasper."
Jasper turned on his heel, and walked to the window. When he looked
back, the annoyance had dropped out of his face, and he was just
saying, "All right, Polly, it ought to be as you say, I'm sure," when
Adela Gray rushed into the room and up to Polly, and flung her arms
around her neck. "There, and there, and there!" and something tumbled
into Polly's hands.
"I didn't want anybody to see it," mumbled Adela, "for I've spoiled it;
and I was trying to rub out the spots when you came in, and I made it
worse than ever. But I'll give it to you now, Polly; and please tear it
up, and I'll make you another."
When this long speech was all mumbled out, Polly was looking at a
little sketch of Phronsie holding the fat Marken baby, and the Marken
people looking on.
"Oh, Jasper!" screamed Polly, "do come here! Oh, Adela, did you draw
this? And oh! how perfectly beautiful!" all in one breath.
"It _is_ a good thing," said Jasper, taking the drawing from Polly's
hand and examining it critically, while Polly threw her arms around
Adela, and oh-ed and ah-ed her delight at finding that she could draw
and sketch so beautifully; and now to think of having this lovely
picture of Phronsie!
"But, you must tear it up," said Adela, in alarm, "else I'm sorry I
gave it to you, Polly."
"Tear it up!" repeated Polly, in astonishment; "tear up this lovely
picture of Phronsie! What do you mean, Adela Gray?"
"Oh, I've a copy, of course," said Adela, carelessly; "and I'm going to
do you another better one."
"Where did you learn to draw so well?" asked Jasper, in admiration of
the bold, accurate lines, and the graceful curves.
"In school, at Paris," said Adela, quietly.
Polly looked over Jasper's arm, and scanned the sketch. "I never saw
anything so lovely!" she exclaimed. "And it's just alive! Isn't it,
Jasper?"
"Yes, it is splendid," he said enthusiastically; "and that's the best
part of it--it's alive, Polly, as you say."
"I'd give anything in all this world, Adela, if I could draw like
that," mourned Polly.
"I'd rather play on the piano," said Adela, "than do all the drawing in
the world. But I can't learn; the music master said there was something
the matter with my ear, and I never could tell one note from another by
the sound. I do so wish I could play on the piano, Polly Pepper!" she
added discontentedly.
"Well, Jasper can do both,--play on the piano, and draw, too," said
Polly.
"I can't draw like this," said Jasper, holding the sketch off at arm's
length to view it again. "I couldn't if I were to try a thousand years."
"Oh, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly, who couldn't bear to think there was
anything that he could not do.
"Well, I can't," said Jasper.
"Let me see some of your sketches," begged Adela. "It's so nice to find
some one else who can draw. Do show me some."
"Oh, no," protested Jasper, in dismay, "not after this," pointing to
Adela's drawing.
"Do, Jasper," begged Polly, imploringly, "get your portfolio."
"Oh, I couldn't bring them all in," said Jasper. "I wouldn't show those
old things for the world, Polly."
"Well, bring some of them, do," she begged, while Adela said, "I showed
mine, and I didn't want to, I'm sure." So Jasper ran up to his room,
and pretty soon he came back with his portfolio.
"You did bring it, after all," exclaimed Polly, in satisfaction,
patting the brown leather cover. "Oh, how nice of you, Jasper," as they
ran over and ensconced themselves in a cosey corner.
"I took out the worst ones," said Jasper, with a laugh. "And I'm
awfully sorry I didn't leave behind more of the others."
"I hope you brought that woman with a basket of vegetables we saw at
the market the other day," said Polly, as he opened the portfolio. "Do
tell me, Jasper, you did bring that, didn't you?" beginning to fumble
through the pile.
"Yes, I did, Polly," said Jasper; "she's in there all safe and sound."
So for the next hour, there was great turning over and comparing of
sketches, and much talk about vertical lines and graceful curves, and
shading and perspective, and expression, and dear knows what all, as
the three heads bent over the portfolio. So intent were they all, that
no one heard Grandpapa come in, and he sat there in a farther corner,
for a good quarter of an hour. At last Polly looked up and saw him.
"Oh, Grandpapa!" she cried, flying off from the group, and carrying
Adela's sketch in her hand. "Just see what a perfectly beautiful
picture of Phronsie! Adela Gray made it. She draws splendidly,
Grandpapa."
Old Mr. King took the little sketch and fairly beamed at it.
"It's very like,--it is excellent," he declared, caring nothing for its
merits as a drawing, but only seeing Phronsie as she sat with the big
Marken baby in her lap on the stubbly bank.
"Isn't it, Grandpapa?" cried Polly, overflowing with happiness; "and
she has given it to me, Grandpapa. Oh, isn't she good!"
"She is, indeed," assented old Mr. King, just as well pleased as Polly.
"A very good girl, indeed. Come here, Adela."
Adela, whose sharp ears had caught most of this dialogue at the other
end of the room,--although Jasper was keeping a steady fire of talk to
drown it if possible,--was looking in dismay at him.
"O dear me, I wish they'd stop," she breathed in distress.
"I thought you said you had no ear," said Jasper, laughing at her face.
"I can't tell music notes," she said, "but I can hear things."
"Yes, I should think you could," he said. And then came old Mr. King's
"Come here, Adela," so she had to go across the room, shaking every
step of the way, and stand in front of him.
"I didn't know we had such a good little artist among us," said
Grandpapa, wonderfully well pleased and smiling kindly at her.
"That is nothing," said Adela, in despair at ever stopping the flow of
praise. "I spoiled it, and I'm going to do Polly a better one."
"Nothing could be better, my dear," said Grandpapa, blandly; "it is a
fine likeness of Phronsie." And then he questioned her as to her
training in the art, and what she meant to do in the future, and where
she intended to study and all that, getting an immense amount of
information so artfully that Adela never for an instant suspected his
reason. All the time he was holding the sketch of Phronsie in his hand,
and intently gazing on it most of the time.
"Well," he said at last, "I won't keep you young people any
longer,"--for Jasper had thrown down the portfolio and joined the
group,--"so run back to your own corner. Dear me," pulling out his
watch, "it's only twenty minutes to luncheon. How time does fly, to be
sure! To-morrow morning, remember, we are off for Antwerp."
"O dear, dear!" exclaimed Polly, as they ran back and bent over the
portfolio again, "we haven't half seen Amsterdam, Jasper."
"No, and you wouldn't if you stayed a year," observed Jasper, wisely.
"We must go over to the Ryks Museum once more," said Polly.
"Yes, let us go there directly after luncheon," proposed Jasper. "I
know what you want to do, Polly,--sit in front of 'The Night Watch'
again."
"Yes, I do," said Polly. "I couldn't go away without seeing that
picture once more, Jasper."
"I don't like that 'Night Watch,'" said Adela, "it's too dark and too
smutty. I don't see why people like it so much."
"Well, I do like it very much," reiterated Polly. "I know it's
dreadfully dark, but the people in front seem to be stepping right out
of the shadows, and to be alive. It seems to me they are just going to
come right up toward me, as I sit there."
"And that, after all, I suppose is the best thing one can say of a
picture," said Jasper. "And it is always the finest time to look at
that picture in the afternoon, you know, so we will go there, Polly,
after luncheon."
"And then Phronsie will want to see that picture of a woman with a cat,
I suppose," said Polly. "Dear me, who was it that painted that, Jasper?
I never can remember the artists' names."
"Metsu was it--Jan--no, Gabriel--Metsu," answered Jasper, wrinkling his
brows. "Neither can I remember all those fellows' names. Yes, indeed,
you'll find Phronsie won't let us go there without paying respects to
her special picture."
"And then I suppose Grandpapa will take us for a last drive in Vondel
Park. Oh, what nice times we have had, Jasper King!" exclaimed Polly,
leaning back against the sofa, and clasping her hands restfully. "I
just love Amsterdam! And I hate to leave it!"
"So you said about The Hague, Polly," observed Jasper, turning to her
with a little laugh.
"Well, wasn't it perfectly beautiful?" asked Polly, flying up straight
again. "Just think of that dear 'House in the Wood,' Jasper."
"I know it; you wanted to go there day after day," laughed Jasper.
"Why, we only went there three times," said Polly, "I'm sure, Jasper.
And the picture-gallery--"
"That is in the Maurit--rit, whatever is the rest of it? Oh, I know,"
said Jasper, guilty of interrupting, "Mauritshuis, that is where the
picture-gallery is, Polly."
"Yes, that's it," echoed Polly; "it's fine--Paul Potter's 'Bull' is
there."
"Oh, I want to see that picture very much!" exclaimed Adela. "I've
never been to The Hague."
"Well, you'll go, perhaps, sometime," said Polly, with an uncomfortable
feeling that she ought not to enjoy the things that Adela hadn't seen.
"And you are going to Antwerp with us to-morrow, anyway," she added,
brightening up.
"Yes," said Adela, "Grandmamma is really going there. But that's all;
for we go straight over to England then, and I sha'n't see you ever
again, Polly Pepper," she finished gloomily.
And that evening Grandpapa sat down by little old Mrs. Gray in the
parlour after dinner, and though he began about something as far
distant as possible, before long he was talking about Adela, and her
wonderful talent. And the most surprising thing about it all was, that
the little old lady, not intending to do it in the least, nor really
comprehending how much she was telling, soon had him informed on all
that he had set his heart on learning--how Adela had just been taken
from the Paris school, because the little fortune her father had left,
had somehow shrunk up, and there was no more money to keep her there.
"I can't tell how it is, sir," she mourned, raising her faded eyes
under the widow's cap to the kind old face above her, "I thought there
was enough to educate my grandchild; it wasn't a big sum, but I
supposed it was quite sufficient; but now it appears to be almost gone,
and I have only just enough to keep me." She didn't add that the
curate, her husband, when he crept into his grave, in the English
churchyard, had left her nothing but the memory of his good name, her
small means coming as a legacy from some of his grateful friends, they,
too, long since dead.
Old Mr. King made no comment, only passed on with a few little leading
remarks when the information seemed to be on the wane. And then he said
he thought he would like a game of backgammon, and he challenged the
parson to come on and be beaten. And at an early hour the party broke
up. "For remember," said Grandpapa, for about the fiftieth time that
day, "it's Antwerp to-morrow!"
So it was at Antwerp that the whole splendid business was concluded.
And when the story of it came out, there was a regular jubilee all
around. For were not Adela and Adela's grandmother going with the King
party around a bit more on the continent, and then off to Paris again,
and back to the beloved school--Grandpapa's gift to the girl with the
talent, to keep it alive!
And the little widow, stunned at first by the magnitude of the gift,
could do nothing but feebly protest, "Oh, no, sir!" and put up both
shaking hands to ward off the benefaction.
"It's your duty, Madam," said Mr. King, sternly, at which she shrank
down farther in her chair. "Who knows what such talent will do in the
world? and it's my duty to see that it is kept alive,--nothing more nor
less than a question of duty."
He stamped up and down the room vehemently, and the little old lady
protesting that she wanted to do her duty,--she was sure she always
did,--the hardest part was over, and old Mr. King chuckled to himself
triumphantly.
"And now," cried Polly, in a transport, when the first surprise was
over, and everybody had settled down to the quiet enjoyment of it all,
"we've really and truly got a celebrated artist all to ourselves," and
she drew herself up in pride.
"I'm not celebrated yet," said Adela, with two little red spots on her
cheeks, and with happy eyes on her grandmother. "You had better wait
till I am."
"Oh, well; you will be," said Polly, confidently, "sometime, and then
we can say 'yes, we knew her when she was a girl,' and we'll go to
picture-galleries the same as we do here, and see your name stuck up in
the corners of the very best ones, Adela."