Margaret Sidney

“ King very rapidly, as if with the fear that if he stopped he would not be able to finish at all, "I want you to look over the ground—Jasper's work, I mean. It seems an abominable place to me—a perfectly abominable one," confided the old gentleman in a burst of feeling, "but there," pulling himself up, "maybe I'm not the one to say it. You see, Polly, I never did a stroke of work in my life, and I really can't tell how working-places ought to look. And I suppose a working man like Mr. Marlowe might be different from me, and yet be a decent sort of a person, after all. ”

“ King got out of his chair, by the side of the desk, and passed into the long salesroom.
"I hope you'll believe," began Jasper brokenly, feeling as if the whole world were going awry, "that this strange idea was never gained from me. Why, I love the business." His gray eyes glowed as he spoke the word.
"My boy," Mr. Marlowe's face was alight with feeling, "don't explain, I understand it all; you've the misfortune to be born into a rich family, and your father probably never had to raise his hand to earn a penny. ”

“ I should never know you, my girl, you are always so sensible and quiet. Why, Charlotte, what has gotten into you?"
"That's just it," cried Charlotte, a pink passion in her sallow cheeks, "everybody thinks because I don't rant every day, that I haven't any more feeling than a stick or a stone. Oh! do excuse me, Mrs. Fisher, but I love Polly so!" And she flung herself down on her knees, burying her face among the little flannel petticoats in Mother Fisher's lap.
"There—there, my dear," said Mrs. Fisher, smoothing Charlotte's pale straight hair, "of course you love Polly; everybody does." ”

“ The idea, Clem!"
"Well, then I think we much better set to work to think up something," observed Clem wisely, "if we are going to do anything."
"We can't think of a single thing—not one," bemoaned Alexia; "it will be a perfectly horrid fright, whatever we get up. Oh, dear! what shall we do, girls?"
"Alexia, you are enough to drive anybody wild," cried Sally Moore; "it's bad enough to know there isn't an idea in all our heads put together, without having you tell us of it every minute. Cathie Harrison, why don't you say something, instead of staring that wall out of countenance?" ”

“ And with a reassuring smile at Polly she went out, and closed the door.
"Oh, dear me," cried poor Polly, left alone; and springing out of her chair, she began to pace the floor. "Now it will be perfectly dreadful for Mr. Bayley. Grandpapa will be very angry; he never liked him; and now he can't help showing what he feels. Oh! why did Mr. Bayley speak."
"Polly," called Jasper's voice, out in the hall.
For the first time in her life, she felt like running away from his call. "Oh! I can't go out; he'll guess something is the matter," she cried to herself. ”

“ Why didn't you go over more ground?"
"I don't believe we can save one bit," mourned Alexia, peering up the stair-length, each step sparkling with myriad little frosty gems, as if Jack Frost himself had sprinkled it with a Christmas hand. "Oh, dear, why did you come in with such a noise, Joe Pepper?"
"Just like a girl," said Joel; "jumps at everything and drops whatever she has in her hand. ”

“ I do think," Polly hastened to say, and she clasped her hands as Phronsie would have done, "it has made all the difference in the world to her. And she does just lovely—so much better, I mean, than other girls would in her place. I do really, Mr. Loughead," repeated Polly.
"And no sister," added Jack, as if to himself. "How is a fellow like me—why, I am twenty-five, Miss Pepper, and I've been knocking about the world ever since I was her age; my uncle took me then to Australia, into his business—how am I ever to 'understand,' as you call it, that girl?" ”

“ There, do smile a bit; that's my girl now," as a faint light stole into Phronsie's eyes. "I didn't mean you'd really blame me, only"—
"I couldn't," still said Phronsie, and it looked as if the shower were about to fall again.
"I know, child; you think your old Grandpapa does just about right," said Mr. King soothingly, and highly gratified.
"He's ever and always right," said Phronsie, still not moving.
"Bless you, child," cried the old gentleman, much moved, "I wish I could say I believed what you say. But many things in my life might have been bettered." ”

“ King turned away with a mild snort, and then not finding any words to say, picked up the newspaper, and Phronsie, full of her new happiness, looked out the window as the cars sped along.
"There's Thomas!" cried Jasper, at sight of that functionary waiting on his carriage-box as he had waited so many other times for them; now for the jolliest of all home-comings.
"And the girls," finished Polly, craning her neck to look out the car window at a knot of them restlessly curbing their impatience on the platform as the train moved into the station and—"why, Mamsie. Oh, Jasper! how slow we are!" ”

“ Whitney, "when you love your work so; and what will the music scholars do, Polly?"
"Oh, they are all right," said Polly gaily, "they're working like beavers. Indeed, Aunty, I believe they'll practice a great deal more than if I were home to be talking to them all the while."
"You are a dear blessed comfort, Polly," said Mrs. Whitney, turning on her pillow with a sigh of relief. "Now I do believe I shall get up very soon. But Jasper must go back; it won't do for him to stay away any longer from his business. Promise me, Polly, that you will make him see that he ought to go." ”

“ He laughed, and bit his moustache.
"And really, I don't think that Amy is quite understood," said Polly warmly, and forgetting herself; "if people believe in her, it makes her want to do things to please them."
"She says herself she has bothered you dreadfully," said Jack, with a vicious thrust of the walking-stick at his boot.
"She has a little," confessed Polly, "but not dreadfully. And I do think, Mr. Loughead, now that you have come, and that she sees how much you want her to study and practice, she will really do better. I do, indeed," said Polly earnestly. ”

“ Pickering threw his head on the chair-back and took savage pulls at the cigar between his teeth.
"I help you?" cried Jasper, too astonished to do much more than to repeat the words. "How in all this world can I do anything in the matter?" he demanded, as soon as he could find his voice.
"Why, you can tell Polly how it is; you're her brother, or as good as one; and she'll see it from you. And you must hurry about it, too, for I expect that Loughead will turn up soon. He means mischief, he does." ”

“ It's the best law firm in the town, Pickering." Mr. Cabot brought his elbow off from the mantel enough to smite his palms together smartly in enthusiasm. "I got you in there."
"I know you did, Uncle," said Pickering; "you've done everything that's good. Only I repeat I'm not worth it," and he drummed on the chair-arm.
"For Heaven's sake, Pickering!" cried his uncle, darting in front of the chair and its restless occupant, "don't say that again. It's enough to make a man go to the bad, to lose hope. What have you been doing lately? Do you gamble?" ”

“ Polly, not taking her brown eyes from Jasper's face, laid her other hand upon his, "I love him enough," she said, "for that; oh, Jasper!"
Old Mr. King walked proudly down the long drawing-room with Polly on his arm. Everybody was in the highest possible spirits. The Lord of Misrule had made a triumphant entree, covering himself with glory and winning great applause for his long train of masquers; whose costumes if not gotten up on strict historical lines, made up any lack by the variety of other contrivances, each one following his own sweet will in dressing. ”

“ Fisher turned off, and began to busy herself over her work.
Polly, quite broken down by this, deserted her door-knob, and rushed into the bedroom.
"O, Mamsie, it's about—about other people, and I didn't know as I ought to tell. Need I?" cried Polly imploringly, seizing her mother's gown just as Phronsie would.
"No more had you a right to tell, Polly," said her mother, "if that is the case," and she turned a cheerful face toward her; "I can trust my girl, that she won't keep anything that is her own, away from me. There, there;" and she smoothed Polly's brown hair with her hand. ”

“ Marlowe; that hurt me worse than all. O, Polly! if you only knew the man," and Jasper relapsed into gloom once more.
"O, dear, dear!" cried Polly sympathetically, and clasping her hands.
"What can we do; isn't there anything to do?"
"No," said Jasper, "absolutely nothing. When father once makes up his mind about anything, it's made up for all time. I must just lose the friendship of that man, as well as my place." With that his gloom deepened, and Polly, feeling powerless to utter a word, slipped her hand within his as it lay on his knee. ”

“ CHAPTER IX. POLLY'S RECITAL. Charlotte Chatterton stood back of the portiere pulling a refractory button of her glove into place, as a gay group precipitated themselves into the dressing-room of The Exeter.
"Now remember, girls," cried Alexia, rushing at the toilet table to bestow frantic twitches at the fluffy waves of hair over her forehead, "that we must applaud the very minute that she gets through singing. Oh dear me, just look at my bangs; they are perfect frights. Hateful things!" with another pull at the offending locks. ”

“ Marlowe. Sorry, Brother Mason, but I can't stop now."
"You'll be up to-night, of course," said Mason Whitney.
"I can't; I'm off for Troy," said Jasper concisely, "and I don't come back this way."
"Goodness! what a man your Marlowe is. And your sister Marian wants to hear about Polly and all the others; you've seen them so lately."
"It's impossible," began Jasper; "you see I can't help it, Brother
Mason; Mr. Marlowe's orders must be carried out."
"He's a beast, your Marlowe is," declared Mr. Whitney hotly. ”

“ Polly's lips seemed to frame the words rather than speak them, looking up at him.
He shook his head, resting his hand on the back of the chair. Polly tried to smile up a bit of comfort into his eyes. "Jasper loved Pickering so," she said to herself, "that he cannot leave him; but oh! he looks so dreadfully, I wish he would go and rest," and she began to have a worried look at once.
"What is it?" asked Jasper, catching the look at once, and bending to whisper in her ear.
"You will be sick if you do not go and rest," whispered back Polly. ”

“ So Polly, despite Mrs. Cabot's calls "Come, Polly," nodded to Grandpapa, who said, "All right, child, don't be gone long," and moved off with Jack Loughead "down the lane," fresh with spring blossoms and gay with bird songs.
"I don't know how," said Jack Loughead, after a moment's pause, during which Polly had lifted her face to look at him wonderingly, "to tell you. I have never been among ladies, and my mother died when I was fifteen; since that I have been working hard, and known no other life. You have been so kind to Amy," he said suddenly, as if there were a refuge in the words. ”

“ Polly!" Mrs. Cabot would wring her hands and beg at such times, a world of entreaty in her voice. And then old Mr. King would interfere, carrying Polly off, and declaring it was beyond all reason for her to be so annoyed.
And Phronsie would climb up on the bed and lay her cool little hand gently on the hot forehead. Then the sick boy's cries would drop into unintelligible murmurs, while his fingers picked aimlessly at the coverlet.
"There! he is better," Phronsie would say softly to the watchers by the bed, "and I guess he is going to sleep." ”

“ Loughead put his head in the doorway, looking as if he had finished a long tramp.
"Come in, Jack," said his uncle, finding his tongue. "We've a whole orphan asylum in here, and I don't know what all; every charity you ever heard of, rolled into one. Do come in, and see if you can make head or tail to it."
"Oh! Mr. Loughead knows all about it," cried Polly brightly, while her cheeks glowed, "for he went down to Dunraven with us at Christmas, and he showed the children stereopticon pictures, and told them such nice stories of places that he had seen." ”

“ Pickering took it, and held it a minute in a calm grasp, with the air of a man considering it better to take the little, since he couldn't get all he wanted.
[Illustration: "And you will be my own brother, Jasper," said Phronsie.]
"But now tell why Polly and Mr. King and all the family act so funnily?" cried Alexia, pulling away her hand and suddenly awaking to the fact that this important piece of news had not been made known to her.
"Can't you see for yourself?" cried Pickering, with an impatient stare. "Why, Alexia, where are your eyes?" ”

“ It will be good fun to get up a Christmas Tree."
"Seeing you never have had that pleasing employment," said Jasper sotto voce, on the rug before the fire.
"Never mind; it'll be just as good fun again," said Polly.
"And not a bit of work—oh, no!"
"Don't throw cold water on it," begged Polly under her breath, while the baby scrambled all over her, "don't, Jasper; Phronsie has set her heart on it."
"All right; but I thought you wanted every bit of time to get ready for your Recital, and the other things; and then, besides, there's Phronsie's performance down at Dunraven." ”