"I SHOULD MAKE HIM HAPPY," SAID PHRONSIE
Polly got Jasper away into a side corridor by a beseeching little pull
on his sleeve. "Oh, just to think," she mourned, "I called that great
man such unpleasant things--that he was big and fat, and--oh, oh!"
"Well, he _is_ big and fat," declared Jasper. "We can't say he isn't,
Polly."
"But I meant it all against him," said Polly, shaking her head. "You
know I did, Jasper," she added remorsefully.
"Yes, we neither of us liked him," said Jasper, "and that's the honest
truth, Polly."
"And to think it was that _great_ Herr Bauricke!" exclaimed Polly. Then
her feelings overcame her, and she sank down on the cushioned seat in
the angle.
Jasper sat down beside her. "I suppose it won't do to say anything
about people after this until we know them. Will it, Polly?"
"Jasper," declared Polly, clasping her hands, while the rosy colour
flew over her cheek, "I'm never going to say a single--"
Just then the big form of Herr Bauricke loomed up before them, as he
turned into the corridor.
Polly shrank up in her corner as small as she could, wishing she was as
little as Phronsie, and could hop up and run away.
Herr Bauricke turned his sharp eyes on them for a moment, hesitated,
then came directly up, and stopped in front of them. "I meant--I
_in_tended to speak to your grandfader first. Dat not seem best _now_."
The great man was really talking to them, and Polly held her breath,
not daring to look into his face, but keeping her gaze on his wonderful
fingers. "My child," those wonderful fingers seized her own, and
clasped them tightly, "you have great promise, mind you, you know only
a leedle now, and you must work--_work--work_." He brought it out so
sharply, that the last word was fairly shrill. "But I tink you will,"
he added kindly, dropping his tone. Then he laid her fingers gently in
her lap.
"Oh, she does, sir," exclaimed Jasper, finding his tongue first, for
Polly was beyond speaking. "Polly works all the time she can."
"Dat is right." Herr Bauricke bobbed his head in approval, so that his
spectacles almost fell off. "I hear dat, in de music she play. No
leedle girl play like dat, who doesn't work. I will hear you sometime
at de hotel," he added abruptly, "and tell you some tings dat will help
you. To-morrow, maybe, when we go down from dis place, eh?"
"Oh, sir," exclaimed Polly, springing off from her cushion before
Jasper could stop her. "You are _so_ good--but--but--I cannot," then
her breath gave out, and she stood quite still.
"Eh?" exclaimed Herr Bauricke, and pushing up his spectacles to stare
into her flushed and troubled face. "Perhaps I not make my meaning
clear; I mean I _geef_ you of my time and my best _ad_vice. Now you
understand--eh?" He included Jasper in his puzzled glance.
"Yes, sir," Jasper made haste to say. "We do understand; and it is so
very good of you, and Polly will accept it, sir." "For father will make
it all right with him as to the payment," he reflected easily.
"Ah, now," exclaimed Herr Bauricke, joyfully, a light beaming all over
his fat face, "dat is someting like--to-morrow, den, we--"
"But, oh, sir," Polly interrupted, "I cannot," and she twisted her
hands in distress. "I--I--didn't like you, and I said so." Then she
turned very pale, and her head drooped.
Jasper leaned over, and took her hand. "Neither did I, sir," he said.
"I was just as bad as Polly."
"You not tink me nice looking--so?" said Herr Bauricke. "Well, I not
tink so myself, eeder. And I scare you maybe, wid dis," and he twisted
his black beard with his long fingers. "Ah, so; well, we will forget
all dis, leedle girl," and he bent down and took Polly's other fingers
that hung by her side. "And eef you not let me come to-morrow to your
leedle music room, and tell you sometings to help you learn better, I
shall know dat you no like me _now_--eh?"
"Oh, sir," Polly lifted her face, flooded with rosy colour up to her
brown hair, "if you only will forgive me?"
"I no forgeef; I not remember at all," said Herr Bauricke, waving his
long fingers in the air. "And I go to-morrow to help you, leedle girl,"
and he strode down the corridor.
Polly and Jasper rushed off, they scarcely knew how, to Grandpapa, to
tell him the wonderful news,--to find him in a truly dreadful state of
mind. When they had told their story, he was as much worse as could
well be imagined.
"Impossible, impossible!" was all he could say, but he brought his hand
down on the table before him with so much force that Jasper felt a
strange sinking of heart. What could be the matter?
"Why, children, and you all" (for his whole party was before him),
exclaimed Mr. King, "Herr Bauricke is that impertinent person who
annoyed me this morning, and I called him 'fellow' to his face!"
It was so very much worse than Jasper had dreamed, that he collapsed
into the first chair, all Polly's prospects melting off like dew before
the sun.
"Hum!" Little Dr. Fisher was the first to speak. He took off his big
spectacles and wiped them; then put them on his nose and adjusted them
carefully, and glared around the group, his gaze resting on old Mr.
King's face.
Polly, who had never seen Jasper give way like this, forgot her own
distress, and rushed up to him. "Oh, don't, Jasper," she begged.
"You see I can't allow Herr Bauricke to give any lessons or advice to
Polly after this," went on Mr. King, hastily. "Of course he would be
paid; but, under the circumstances, it wouldn't do, not in the least.
It is quite out of the question," he went on, as if some one had been
contradicting him. But no one said a word.
"Why don't some of you speak?" he asked, breaking the pause. "Dr.
Fisher, you don't generally keep us waiting for your opinion. Speak out
now, man, and let us have it."
"It is an awkward affair, surely," began the little doctor, slowly.
"Awkward? I should say so," frowned Mr. King; "it's awkward to the last
degree. Here's a man who bumps into me in a hotel passage,--though, for
that matter, I suppose it's really my fault as much as his,--and I
offer to pick up his spectacles that were dropped in the encounter. And
he tells me that he is glad that we ran up against each other, for it
gives him a chance to tell me what is on his mind. As if I cared what
was on his mind, or on the mind of any one else, for that matter," he
declared, in extreme irritation. "And I told him to his face that he
was an impertinent fellow, and to get out of my way. Yes, I did!"
A light began to break on little Dr. Fisher's face, that presently
shone through his big spectacles, fairly beaming on them all. Then he
burst into a laugh, hearty and long.
"Why, Adoniram!" exclaimed Mother Fisher, in surprise. Polly turned a
distressed face at him; and to say that old Mr. King stared would be
stating the case very mildly indeed.
"Can't you see, oh, can't you see," exploded the little doctor, mopping
up his face with his big handkerchief, "that your big German was trying
to tell you of Polly's playing, and to say something, probably pretty
much the same that he has said to her and to Jasper? O dear me, I
should like to have been there to see you both," ended Dr. Fisher,
faintly. Then he went off into another laugh.
"I don't see much cause for amusement," said old Mr. King, grimly, when
this idea broke into his mind, "for it's a certain fact that I called
him a fellow, and told him to get out of the way."
"Well, he doesn't bear you any malice, apparently," said the little
doctor, who, having been requested to speak, saw no reason for
withholding any opinion he might chance to have, "for, if he did, he
wouldn't have made that handsome offer to Polly."
"That may be; the offer is handsome enough," answered Mr. King, "that
is the trouble, it's too handsome. I cannot possibly accept it under
the awkward circumstances. No, children," he turned to Polly and
Jasper, as if they had been beseeching him all the while, "you needn't
ask it, or expect it," and he got out of his chair, and stalked from
the room.
Jasper buried his face in his hands, and a deep gloom settled over the
whole party, on all but little Dr. Fisher. He pranced over to Polly and
Jasper just as merrily as if nothing dreadful had happened. "Don't you
be afraid, my boy," he said; "your father is a dreadfully sensible man,
and there's no manner of doubt but that he will fix this thing up."
"Oh, you don't know father," groaned Jasper, his head in his hands,
"when he thinks the right thing hasn't been done or said. And now Polly
will miss it all!" And his head sank lower yet.
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Dr. Fisher. Yet he had a dreadful feeling coming
over him, and he turned to Polly imploringly.
"Oh, I do believe it, Jasper," cried Polly, "what Papa-Doctor says. And
just look at Mamsie!" she cried, beneath her breath.
And truly Mother Fisher was having a hard time to control herself. That
Jasper could see as he lifted his head. And the little doctor also saw,
and skipped back across the room to her side. And Phronsie, feeling
plunged into the deepest woe by all this dreadful state of affairs,
that had come too bewilderingly for her to rally to Grandpapa's side,
first began to cry. And then, thinking better of it, went softly out of
the door, and no one noticed her when she went--with the tears running
down her cheeks.
Down the long corridor she hurried, not knowing which way Grandpapa
went, but turning into the little reading room, she spied him sitting
by the table. The apartment was otherwise empty. He wasn't reading, not
even looking at a paper, but sitting bolt upright, and lost in thought.
"Grandpapa," she said, laying a soft little hand on his arm. "Oh, I'm
so glad I found you." And she nestled up to his side.
"Eh? Oh, Phronsie, child." Old Mr. King put his arm around her, and
drew her closely to him. "So you came after your old Grand-daddy, did
you?"
"Yes, I did," said Phronsie, with a glad little cry, snuggling up
tighter to him, while the tears trailed off down his waistcoat, but not
before he had seen them.
"Now, Phronsie, you are not to cry any more," he said, with a pang at
the sight. "You won't, dear; promise me that."
So Phronsie promised; and he held her hands, and, clearing his throat,
he began, "Well, now I suppose they felt pretty badly, back there in
the room, your mother and all--eh, Phronsie?"
"Yes, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, her round face falling. Yet she had
promised not to cry, and, although she had a hard time of it, every
tear was kept back valiantly.
"And Polly, now--" asked old Mr. King, cautiously, "and Jasper--how
were they feeling?"
"Grandpapa," Phronsie did not trust herself to reply, but, springing
up, she laid her rosy little mouth close to his ear. "What does it
all--the dreadful thing mean?" she whispered.
"It means," old Mr. King whispered back, but very distinctly, "that
your old Granddaddy is an idiot, Phronsie, and that he has been rude,
and let his temper run away with him."
"Oh, no, Grandpapa dear," contradicted Phronsie, falling back from him
in horror. "You couldn't ever be that what you say." And she flung both
arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
"What? An idiot? Yes, I have been an idiot of the worst kind," declared
Mr. King, "and all the rest just as I say; rude and--why, what is the
matter, Phronsie?" for the little arms clutched him so tightly he could
hardly breathe.
"Oh, Grandpapa," she wailed, and drawing away a bit to look at him, he
saw her face convulsed with the effort not to cry. "Don't say such
things. You are never naughty, Grandpapa dear; you can't be," she
gasped.
"There, there, there," ejaculated old Mr. King, frightened at the
effect of his words and patting her yellow hair, at his wits' end what
to say. So he broke out, "Well, now, Phronsie, you must tell me what to
do."
Thereupon Phronsie, seeing there was something she could really do to
help Grandpapa, came out of her distress enough to sit up quite
straight and attentive in his lap. "You see I spoke rudely to a man,
and I called him a fellow, and he was a gentleman, Phronsie; you must
remember that."
"Yes, I will, Grandpapa," she replied obediently, while her eyes never
wandered from his face.
"And I told him to get out of the way and he did," said Mr. King,
forcing himself to a repetition of the unpleasant truth. "O dear me,
nothing could be worse," he groaned.
"And you are sorry, Grandpapa dear?" Phronsie leaned over and laid her
cheek softly against his.
"Yes, I am, Phronsie, awfully sorry," confessed the old gentleman; "but
what good will that do now? My temper has made a terrible mess of it
all."
"But you can tell the gentleman you are sorry," said Phronsie. "Oh,
Grandpapa dear, do go and tell him now, this very minute." She broke
away from him again, and sat straight on his knee, while a glad little
smile ran all over her face.
"I can't--you don't understand--O dear me!" Mr. King set her abruptly
on the floor, and took a few turns up and down the room. Phronsie's
eyes followed him with a grieved expression. When she saw the distress
on his face, she ran up to him and seized his hand, but didn't speak.
"You see, child,"--he grasped her fingers and held them closely,--"it's
just this way: the gentleman wants to do me a favour; that is, to help
Polly with her music."
"Does he?" cried Phronsie, and she laughed in delight. "Oh, Grandpapa,
how nice! And Polly will be so happy."
"But I cannot possibly accept it," groaned old Mr. King; "don't you
see, child, after treating him so? Why, how could I? The idea is too
monstrous!" He set off now at such a brisk pace down the room that
Phronsie had hard work to keep up with him. But he clung to her hand.
"Won't that make the gentleman sorry?" panted Phronsie, trotting along
by his side.
"Eh--oh, what?" exclaimed old Mr. King, coming to a dead stop suddenly.
"What's that you say, Phronsie?"
"Won't the gentleman feel sorry?" repeated Phronsie, pushing back the
waves of yellow hair that had fallen over her face, to look up at him.
"And won't he feel badly then, Grandpapa?"
"Eh--oh, perhaps," assented Mr. King, slowly, and passing a troubled
hand across his brow. "Well, now, Phronsie, you come and sit in my lap
again, and we'll talk it over, and you tell me what I ought to do."
So the two got into the big chair again, and Phronsie folded her hands
in her lap.
"Now begin," said old Mr. King.
"I should make the gentleman happy, Grandpapa," said Phronsie,
decidedly.
"You would--no matter what you had to do to bring it about?" asked
Grandpapa, with a keen pair of eyes on her face. "Eh? think now,
Phronsie."
"I should make the gentleman happy," repeated Phronsie, and she bobbed
her head decidedly. "I really should, Grandpapa."
"Then the best way is to have it over with as soon as possible," said
old Mr. King; "so come on, child, and you can see that the business is
done up in good shape." He gathered her little fingers up in his hand,
and setting her once more on the floor, they passed out of the
apartment.
The door of the private parlour belonging to Mr. King's rooms was flung
wide open, and into the gloomy interior, for Mother Fisher and Jasper
were still inconsolable, marched old Mr. King. He was arm in arm, so
far as the two could at once compass the doorway, with Herr Bauricke;
while Phronsie ducked and scuttled in as she could, for the big German,
with ever so many honorary degrees to his name, held her hand fast.
Old Mr. King continued his march up to Mother Fisher. "Allow me to
introduce Herr Bauricke, Professor and Doctor of Music, of world-wide
distinction," he said, bowing his courtly old head.
And then Mother Fisher, self-controlled as she had always been,
astonished him by turning to her husband to supply the answering word.
"Glad to see you!" exclaimed the little doctor, bubbling over with
happiness, and wringing the long fingers extended. "My wife is overcome
with delight," which the big German understood very well; and he smiled
his knowledge of it, as he looked into her black eyes. "She is like to
mein Frau," he thought, having no higher praise. And then he turned
quickly to Polly and Jasper.