Patterson, as her handsome equipage drew up. "Don't you worry a bit, Polly
Pepper; I'm not in the least hurt," and off she drove.
"Polly, will you come?" called Alexia, dancing about impatiently on the top
step, and clutching the bag of sugar with nervous ringers that didn't help
matters any. "Oh, dear me, do look!"--pointing tragically to the little
pile of sweetness at her feet.
"Oh, I do hope she wasn't hurt," cried Polly, stumbling up over the steps,
how, she didn't know.
"Oh, that tiresome Mrs. Patterson! Well, it will do her good to tumble down
once in a while," said Alexia unsympathetically, "she's so stiff and
mighty; and I should think you might pay some attention to me," she cried,
in a loud, injured tone; "I'm all in a mess with this sugar, and I haven't
got any candy, and you made me come clear down to this old shop, and----"
"Well, do come in," cried Polly, interrupting her stream of complaint, and,
picking up the bag of nuts before any one else could tumble over it, she
hurried Alexia into the little shop.
"And I'm glad enough to get where I can lay this old thing down," declared
Alexia, dumping the bag of sugar upon the first resting-place she saw, an
aesthetic little lounge, covered with elaborately embroidered pieces. "Oh,
me! my arms are almost broken," and she stretched them restfully, "and
beside, the sugar is 'most all run out."
"Oh, Alexia!" cried Polly, quite aghast, as she saw where Alexia had
deposited the sugar, just as the proprietor of the shop hurried up with
dismay written all over her countenance.
"Oh, my beautiful centerpieces!" she exclaimed, raising both hands in
dismay, "I am sure they are quite, quite ruined."
"It's nothing but sugar," grumbled Alexia, as she huddled up her bundle
again.
"And I'll brush it all off," said Polly anxiously, bestowing little pats
over the various specimens of fancy work. "See, Miss Angell, I don't
believe it's hurt," she said, lifting her flushed face.
"Well, I don't wish them," declared two ladies together, coming back from
the small table Where they had gone to examine more work.
"They are quite mussed and tumbled now," added one, "and not at all what we
want. Come, Sister," and she walked to the door, viewing with disfavor
Alexia and her bundle, and Polly Pepper as well.
Miss Angell's face dropped to such a length that Polly couldn't bear to
look at it.
"Oh, please don't go," cried Polly, flying after the irate customer; "I
don't really believe the pretty things are hurt. Do just come back and see,
please."
The other lady was standing irresolutely by the lounge, but she wouldn't
even look at the centerpieces that Miss Angell was smoothing out with a
despairing hand, preparing to put them into their boxes again.
"It was clean sugar," Polly ran on, feeling quite sure if she stopped
talking, that all hope was lost.
"But they are mussed," began the lady by the door, very decidedly.
Alexia was huddling up her bundle quite gone in despair, and lost to all
the distress of having no candy to take to the Cooking Club supper. If
those two ladies would only buy the centerpieces they had selected, it was
all she hoped for in this world.
"No, indeed! Come, Sister!" and she opened the door. "Why, Mrs. Alexander!"
Mrs. Alexander, a portly person, with a great deal of black jet and lace,
that seemed to be always catching in the apparel of those who passed her,
worked her way into the small shop, and up past the knot of people, giving
friendly nods of recognition on her way.
"How d'ye do, Miss Ellicott, Miss Juliana. How are you, Polly? And, Alexia,
how is your aunt?" And without waiting for a reply, she sprang, if such a
ponderous body could be said to spring, at the box of centerpieces Miss
Angell was packing away. "Oh, oh! how beautiful! Stop"--laying her large
hand on one. "Just what I want. How much is it?"
"Fifteen dollars," said Miss Angell, whipping it neatly out of the box, her
dismal frown becoming an expansive smile. "Yes, it is a beauty--one of the
very latest things," and she spread it forth on the lounge with an
experienced little nourish.
Miss Ellicott deserted the door and hurried over to the lounge.
"I'll--I'll"--as she tried to work herself in between. But the portly Mrs.
Alexander had no idea of being interrupted at such an important crisis in
life when centerpieces were to be decided upon, so she loudly kept on in
her bargaining. "I'll take it," she said, in her most decided fashion. "And
the next one, too, I fancy; let me see that."
"But that is," gasped Miss Juliana, threading her way into the group, "the
very one that I liked."
"Eh?" said Mrs. Alexander, looking up with the acute eyes of a
bargain-hunter. "Oh, I don't wonder you like it; it's a beauty. Yes, I'll
take it also. How much did you say it was, Miss Angell?"
Miss Angell, who hadn't said, saw no reason why she shouldn't now make it
any price that appealed to her better judgment.
"Twenty dollars," she answered, clapping on a cool third of its price, and
Mrs. Alexander, who cared very little what she paid for it, beamed at her,
and said:
"Put them in a box and send it out to my carriage; they are the handsomest
things I've seen for a long time, and so wonderfully cheap! You are quite
right; they are beauties."
"If you'd done as I wanted you to," cried Miss Juliana, the tears of
vexation gathering in her eyes, as she saw the now incomparable bits of
fancy work borne off before their very faces, "you wouldn't have stopped
for such a trifle as a few crumbs of sugar, Sister."
Miss Ellicott's face was very red, but she knew better than to show the
chagrin she felt, to add to the delight of the purchaser over her bargain,
so she contented herself with saying, as she stalked to the door:
"You said you didn't want them, Juliana, the same as I did."
"But I wasn't so set about it," said Miss Juliana, with a regretful glance
at the box, now gayly tied up by the jubilant Miss Angell and delivered
into the hands of the little errand-girl to be given to the Alexander
footman, "and I'm sure if you hadn't insisted, I should have seen that they
weren't hurt."
"Well, do come on now, Juliana," said her sister sharply, in all the
anguish of having the whole blame deposited upon her person. "Since the
things are gone, what is the use of talking about the matter?"--as they
disappeared out of the shop.
Polly and Alexia, therefore, had to wait for all this confusion and
excitement to clear away, before the green floss could be bought and the
message from Miss Rhys as to the patterns could be given. Meanwhile, Polly
was tying up the package of sugar, and patting the shrunken paper bag into
shape over the hole.
"You tell your aunt," said Miss Angell, her cheeks quite flushed with
elation over her good bargain, "that I haven't any more patterns come in
since she was here. Yes, Mrs. Alexander"--to that lady, with her head over
a drawer, deep in a hunt for more bargains-"there are some exquisite
designs among those. There's the floss"--bunching it up hurriedly into a
wad, and speaking all in one breath. "Would you mind, Miss Alexia, doing
this up yourself?"--pointing to the white tissue paper on the table.
Alexia, who didn't mind anything so long as she could get out of the shop,
twisted up the floss into a wad of the paper.
"Do hurry, Polly," she cried, and scampered out to the street, Polly
following with her bag of nuts.
"Oh, dear! I've forgotten that tiresome old bundle of sugar after all," she
cried, prancing back.
"I'll carry it, and you take the nuts," said Polly, cramming her bundle
into the long arms and getting anxious fingers on the bag of sugar, as
Alexia came running up with it.
"I'm sure I wish you would." said Alexia, seizing the nuts delightedly. "I
just hate that old--Polly Pepper, it's four o'clock!"--as the church bell
on St. Stephen's tower pealed out.
So Polly didn't have a chance, after all, to tell her glad piece of news,
until they were at the Club supper, which was to be given at Larry Keep's
to celebrate his getting well.
"Oh, Alexia," she was guilty of whispering, "it's the most splendid thing."
"Isn't it!" cried Alexia, in the greatest satisfaction. "To think I got it
done after all our fright! And it's the best candy I ever made"--glancing
over the room, where the dish was being passed about eagerly.
"Yes, I know," said Polly carelessly, "but this is much better than candy,
Alexia, that I mean."
"Much better than candy!" echoed Alexia, laying clown the slice of sponge
cake that Clem had made, on her plate, and peering around into Polly's
face. "What do you mean, Polly Pepper? There can't anything possibly be
better than candy."
"Yes, there can," contradicted Polly, twisting in delight on her chair,
"and you'll say so when you hear it. It's the most beautiful thing that
could possibly have happened, Alexia Rhys. It's"--and just then the door
opened and in walked Miss Mary Taylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce, and the first
glance that Alexia took of their faces, she guessed the whole thing.
"Polly!" she gasped, seizing Polly's arm, "you don't mean that our Miss
Mary is going to marry Mr. Dyce?"
"Yes, I do," said Polly happily, "mean just that very thing, Alexia."
"I don't believe it," declared Alexia, while all the time she knew it was
true by their radiant faces.
"Well, it is true, as true can be," said Polly, "for she told me so this
very afternoon at her house."
"And you've known it all this time," cried Alexia, for the first time In
her life in a passion at Polly, "and never told me at all!"
"Oh, Alexia, how could I?" cried Polly, in an aggrieved little voice; "for
we were in such a perfectly dreadful scrape over getting ready for the
supper! How could I, Alexia?" She turned such a miserable face that Alexia
made haste to say:
"You couldn't, you sweet thing, you!" and gave her a reassuring hug.
"Well, just look at Mr. Dyce, and hear him laugh!"
And Mr. Hamilton Dyce being unable to keep his delight within bounds, and
seeming to think it incumbent upon himself to take the young people into
his confidence, just coolly announced it. And then there was no more paying
attention to the cakes, and the little biscuits, the custards, and the
whipped cream; and even Alexia's nut candy went begging.
And Miss Mary had to sit in the center of each group of boys and girls, a
few minutes at a time, for the supper was passed around on trays, till Mr.
Dyce said he wished he hadn't told the news until the feast was ended. And
after that, when they all finished up the evening festivities with a dance,
why, every one there, tried to get her for first partner. But it was Alexia
who swept them all one side.
"She's my Sunday-school teacher," she declared, "and I shall have her
first."
"Well, so she is our Sunday-school teacher," cried half a dozen of the
girls at once, as they crowded up.
"Well, she's my very dearest friend--that is, except Polly Pepper," said
Alexia positively. "Come, Miss Mary"--hanging obstinately to her hand, on
which shone a new ring with a big, bright gem in it.
"Well, you said Miss Salisbury was," Pickering Dodge, on the fringe of the
circle of girls, couldn't help saying.
"Oh, well, I mean Miss Mary is my very dearest friend after that," said
Alexia coolly, tossing him a saucy glance, as she bore off her beloved
Sunday-school teacher down the whole length of Mrs. Keep's drawing-room
floor.
XXVIII
THE LITTLE STONE CUPBOARD
Phronsie ran down the hall.
"Oh, Mamsie!" she cried, hurrying into
Mrs. Fisher's room, "Grandpapa says she is coming--she really is!" She
clasped her hands and stood quite still in front of her mother.
"Who, dear?" asked Mrs. Fisher absently. She was standing over by the
window, with one of Phronsie's pinafores in her hand and wondering if any
more were needed to carry her through the summer.
"She really is, Mamsie," said Phronsie, very much disappointed that her
mother didn't seem to notice. Then her mouth drooped, and she gave a long
sigh.
Mrs. Fisher tore her mind off from the pinafores and looked down quickly.
"Well, I declare, child;" and she took her in her arms. "Now, then!" She
put the pinafore in a chair, and herself in another; then she drew Phronsie
into her lap. "Tell Mother all about it," she said.
"Yes," said Phronsie, "I will"--snuggling in great satisfaction up against
her mother's neck: "you see, my little girl is really coming; Grandpapa
said so."
"Oh, yes--Rachel."
"Yes." Phronsie bobbed her yellow head; then took it up from its
resting-place in her mother's neck, to peer up into the face above. "And
she'll be my little girl all the time she is here, and I must get Clorinda
fixed this very minute," she added, dreadfully excited. And, her news all
told, Phronsie clambered down from Mrs. Fisher's lap and scurried off.
And in a few minutes everybody knew all over the house that the letter had
come, in which the invitation for Rachel's visit had been accepted by Miss
Parrott. Moreover, she was to arrive on the following day.
"Whoopity-la!" sang Joel, who very much liked Rachel, for she was always
ready to play anything that he proposed, and was a perfect adept in
climbing trees and inventing a circus out of small material; "now that's
just prime! I wish she was coming to-day."
Van and Percy, just as well pleased, ran hither and yon, very much excited.
"What shall we do to show her we are glad she's coming?" asked Percy, who
seized every chance that offered itself to celebrate such events.
"Why, she'll see it," said Joel, pounding away lustily. He was mending his
tennis racket. "Whickets! I 'most split that"--holding it up ruefully.
"Mrs. Fisher told you not to say that," cried Van, who dearly loved to
bring Joel up for correction.
"Well, I didn't mean--" Joel whirled around on him, "And I guess you'd say
it if you'd 'most split your racket, so!"
"She told you not to," repeated Van, knowing his power in holding to that
simple statement.
"Well, I didn't mean to, I tell you," cried Joel loudly, and very red in
the face.
"And she won't like it," said Van, delighted to see the effect of his
words.
Joel's face worked, and he flung the broken racket across the room. It fell
with a crash; and he ran over to the bed, hopped into the middle of it, and
buried his face in his brown hands, his shoulders in distress.
"I didn't mean--go away," he screamed, kicking as hard as he could.
Van, terribly frightened at the storm he had raised, stood perfectly still
in the middle of the room.
"There, now, I hope you're satisfied," said Percy, from the other side.
"See what you've done. I guess you'll catch it, Van Whitney," he added
pleasantly.
Van, not so much worried over what he would catch as terrified about Joel,
ran over to his brother.
"Oh, do stop him," he implored, seizing Percy's hand.
"I can't stop him," said Percy; "you know yourself it's silly to ask me
that."
"I must, then," cried Van, scurrying over to the foot of the bed. "Joel, do
stop," he begged frantically.
"Go away!" screamed Joel, kicking lustily. "I didn't mean to say it. Oh,
dear me! Mamsie--Mamsie!" he blubbered, rolling from side to side on the
neat, white bed.
"I guess he's going to have a fit," said Percy cheerfully, coming up to
view matters at a safe distance from the flying feet.
At this, Van's distress knew no bounds, and, regardless of all possible
danger to himself, he ran around the bed and flung himself upon it, to
burrow close to Joel's stubby black head.
"Joe, don't," he cried, bursting into tears and hugging him with both
frantic arms.
Joel wriggled and screamed, "Go away!" and kicked more than ever, but Van
held on sturdily, and together the two boys rolled over and over across the
bed, back and forth, till their breath gave out.
"Oh, just look what you are doing," exclaimed Percy, prancing up and down
the room. He had started two or three times to run out and call Mrs.
Fisher; then thought better of it. "You've mussed the bedspread all up; and
only look at those shams!"--hanging over the footboard in extreme dismay.
Hearing these last words, both boys rolled apart and thrust up their heads,
to gaze at the details in question. There they were, spick and span as
usual at the top, but the lower parts were all mussed and wrinkled, while
the lace at one end hung down in a small tag.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Joel, huddling up to Van, to throw his arm around his
neck, "just see what I've done!"
"Oh, you didn't do it; I did," said Van, giving Joel an affectionate
squeeze. "It was all my fault."
"No such thing," declared Joel sturdily; "if you say so again, I'll fight
you."
"And perhaps you can straighten that lace," suggested Percy, with no relish
for any further hostilities.
Van and Joel drew off to the foot of the bed, and huddled up there to
regard his efforts, as he ran around to the pillows, patting and smoothing
them straight.
"That won't do any good," said Joel, in great disfavor; "you can't make the
lace whole again."
Van sorrowfully embraced his knees, his feet tucked up under him.
"Oh, what will Jane say?" he breathed fearfully.
"Jane? I don't care for her," said Joel scornfully. "It's Mamsie," and he
swallowed hard.
"Perhaps she won't care," cried Van, leaving his knees to take care of
themselves, in alarm lest Joel was going off again.
"And just see how you've mussed up the bedspread," Percy couldn't help
saying, to relieve his chagrin over the failure to make the pillow shams
look nicely, and he drew off and pointed to it tragically. "It looks as if
crocodiles had been all over it," he declared, hunting for the worst thing
he could think of.
Joel and Van rolled fearful eyes all over the bed.
"I'm going to Mamsie!" was all Joel said, as he rolled over the edge and
disappeared from the room.
"Oh, wait," screamed Van. Then he rolled off his side of the bed, took two
big steps, and stood quite still in the middle of the floor.
"You've got to go with him and help tell," said Percy pleasantly, as if
proposing the most delightful thing. But Van didn't stir.
"Aren't you ashamed!" cried Percy, with a sniff. "I'd like to know if Polly
will think it's nice for you to sneak out of it, Van Whitney."
"Ow!" squealed Van. He shot out into the hall, and without giving himself
time to think, ran as hard as he could to join Joel in Mother Fisher's
room.
Left to himself, Percy set himself to work on straightening the bedspread,
running around from one side to the other to pat and twitch impatiently.
"As soon as I get one side nice, it all comes away from the other," he said
to himself. "How in the world does Jane ever make a bed, I wonder?" And at
last he deserted it altogether and drew off with a very hot face.
"Heigh-ho! I wish we could do something to celebrate when Rachel comes,"
and he wrinkled his brows in perplexity. "Oh, I know," and he clapped his
hands in glee. Then he ran softly out and up to Ben's room.
But Ben wasn't in; so Percy, nearly bursting with a plan that now seemed to
him very grand, was obliged to take some one else into his confidence. And
that one happened to be old Mr. King, whom he met as he came downstairs
with a very rueful countenance.
"What's the matter, Percy?" asked the old gentleman, with a keen glance.
"Nothing, Grandpapa," said Percy dismally.
"Goodness me! Do you carry about such a face as that for nothing?" cried
the old gentleman, with a laugh. "You look as if you'd something on your
mind, my boy."
"Well, I have, Grandpapa," said Percy, now driven into a corner, and
looking up at last.
"Best have it out then," said Grandpapa firmly, taking one of Percy's
hands, and they went on to the writing-room.
"There, now, here is just the place for a boy to get things that are
unpleasant off his mind, I take it," he said, closing the door on them
both. "Sit down and tell me what is troubling you, Percy."
"Can't I stand up, Grandpapa?" asked Percy, over by the table.
"To be sure," laughed Grandpapa; "stand up or sit down, just as you choose.
Only let us get at this bugaboo that is worrying you, my boy. Out with it."
"It isn't a bugaboo," said Percy, with open eyes; "it's a plan, Grandpapa.
Only I can't find Ben," and he began to be dismal once more. "Dear me!
where can he be!"
"Oh, it's a plan, is it?" said Grandpapa, vastly relieved. "Well, well!"
Then he began to laugh. "And so you wanted Ben to help you with it, eh?"
"Yes, Grandpapa," said Percy, his happiness returning, and he deserted the
table and ran up to the old gentleman's side. "You see, Rachel is coming."
"Yes, she is," said old Mr. King, with a satisfied nod, "and you like it, I
hope, my boy." He looked up with a keen glance.
"Awfully," said Percy, great satisfaction settling over his face.
"Well, I think all of us like the plan," remarked the old gentleman, in
extreme complacency at achieving the visit, "for she's a very nice girl,
Rachel is, it appears to me."
"She's awfully good fun," said Percy, "only Joel will make her play with
him all the time, I suppose," and his face fell.
"Oh, you must cut Joe out," said old Mr. King, laughing heartily.
"I can't," said Percy dismally; "we can't any of us, Grandpapa," and he
opened his blue eyes very wide at the mere thought.
"Well, yes, I think we are all pleased, very much pleased indeed that
Rachel is coming," repeated old Mr. King, going back to the expected visit,
"and, as she comes to-morrow----"
"To-morrow!" echoed Percy, aghast, "why, then I can't get up my surprise,
Grandpapa." For, strange to say, the time of the arrival had slipped from
his mind. The old gentleman hastened to comfort him.
"Suppose you tell me the grand plan," he said at last; "then we'll see if
there won't be time enough."
"Oh, I was going to get Ben to take me out into the woods to-morrow,"
said Percy, feeling as if he should very much like to cry, he was so
disappointed, "and we could have dug up some cunning little plants and
ferns: Rachel said she liked them at the garden party. We could have
planted them in a box, and 'twould have been so nice, and now it's too
late." And, overcome with despair, he sat down on the first thing he
could find, which was a pile of books on the floor.
"Take care," warned Grandpapa, but over Percy had gone, the books flying
all ways under him.
"I'll pick them up," he cried, when he could get his breath.
"I am glad you are not hurt," said Grandpapa King, with a rueful glance at
the big reference volumes, only laid out for his use that morning, which
certainly wouldn't be improved by their fall. "Here, wait a bit, and I'll
help you, Percy, my boy," and he got out of his chair.
"Oh, I can do it; let me, Grandpapa; let me do it alone," begged Percy,
tugging at the books and piling as rapidly as he could, for they were quite
heavy. "There, see, they're almost back again"--as he staggered up with the
last one.
"Not quite so fast," said Grandpapa King, lending his hand to the task.
"Now next time when you want to sit down, I advise you to take a chair,
Percy, my boy. Well, now, let us think how you can get up a nice little
surprise for Rachel when she comes to-morrow."
"And nobody must know it," cried Percy, quite enchanted at the prospect of
having a secret plan with Grandpapa. "Oh, you won't tell anybody but me,
will you?" He crowded in between the old gentleman's chair and the big
table, and regarded him anxiously.
"No, indeed," cried old Mr. King, in his most emphatic way, and bringing
his hand heavily down on the table; "not a single person shall hear about
it. This is your and my secret, Percy, my boy."
And outside, in a slope of the terrace where it ran down to a tangle of
greenery, were Phronsie and little Dick. And they were making great
preparations, too, for Rachel's visit on the following day. The great task
before them was nothing more nor less than to set up their little stone
house in the boulders under the big apple tree.
"I'm going to set up the cupboard," announced little Dick.
"Wait for me, do," begged Phronsie, who was busy in putting the little
acorn cups and saucers in fine array on the big, flat stone that served
them as a table.
"Well, do hurry, then," said Dick, his fingers twitching to be at their
work, "for it's just full of everything." He had pulled out the stone from
a hole between the boulders, which, running in quite deeply, had served as
a convenient receptacle for certain treasures and accumulations, and was
therefore called the cupboard. "We haven't cleaned it out in ever 'n' ever
so long, Phronsie."