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Joel, in such an emergency, wiped his black eyes and looked up sharply. David sank on the upper step.
“Oh, no, Tom,” cried Joel, crowding in between Beresford and the door, “it can't be. Get out of the way; let me try.”
“It is—it is, I tell you,” howled Tom in what was more of a whine, as he kept one eye out for John and his lantern. “The mean sneak has got the best of us, Joe.” He set his teeth hard together, and his face turned white.
Joe dropped the doorknob, and whirled off the steps.
“Julius Cæsar! where are you going?” began Tom, as Joel disappeared around the corner of the dormitory.
“He's gone to see if John is coming, I suppose,” said Davie weakly.
Tom, preferring to see for himself, skipped off, and disappeared around the angle. “Oh—oh!”was what David heard next, making him fly from his step to follow in haste.
What he saw was so much worse than all his fears as Tom gripped his arm pointing up over his head, that he screamed right out, “Oh Joe, come back, you'll be killed!”
“He can't come back,” said Tom hoarsely. “He'd much better go on.” Joel, more than halfway up the lightning conductor, was making good time shinning along. He turned to say, “I'm all right, Dave,” as a window above them was thrown up, and a head in a white nightcap was thrust out.
“It's all up with him now; there's old Fox,” groaned Tom, ducking softly back over the grass. “Come on, Dave.”
But David, with clasped hands and white face, had no thought of deserting Joel.
The person in the window, having the good sense to utter no exclamation, waited till Joel was up far enough for her to grasp his arm. Then she couldn't help it as she saw his face.
“Joel Pepper!”
“Yes'm,” said Joel, turning his chubby face toward her. “I knew I could get up here; it's just as easy as anything.”
Mrs. Fox set her other hand to the task of helping him into the dimly lighted hall, much to Joel's disgust, as he would much have preferred to enter unassisted. Then she turned her cap-frills full on him, and said in a tone of great displeasure, “Whatisthe meaning of all this?”
“Why, I had to go out, Mrs. Fox.”
“Why?”
“Oh—I—I—had to.”
She didn't ask him again, for the matron was a woman of action, and in all her dealings with boys had certain methods by which she brought them to time. So she only set her sharp eyes, that Dr. Marks' pupils always called “gimlets,” full upon him. “Go to your room,” was all she said.
“Oh Mrs. Fox,” cried Joel, trying dreadfully to control himself, and twisting his brown hands in the effort, “I—I—had to go. Really I did.”
“So you said before.Go to your room.” Then a second thought struck her. “Was any other boy with you?” she demanded suddenly.
Joel gave a sharp cry of distress as he started down the hall, revolving in his mind how he would steal down and unlock the door as soon as the matron had taken herself off.
“Here, stop—come back here! Now answer me—yes or no—was any other boy with you?” as Joel stood before her again.
Joel's stubby black curls dropped so that she couldn't see his face. As there was no reply forthcoming, Mrs. Fox took him by the arm. “You needn't go to your room, Joel,” she said sharply. “You may go to Coventry.”
“Oh Mrs. Fox,” Joel burst out, “don't—don't send me there.”
“A boy who cannot answer me, is fit only for Coventry,” said Mrs. Fox with great dignity, despite the nightcap. “Wait here, Joel. I will get my candle, and light you down.” She stepped off to a corner of the hall, where she had set the candlestick on a table, when startled by the noise outside. “Now we will go.”
It was impossible that all this confusion should not awake some of the boys in the hall; and by this time there was much turning on pillows, and leaning on elbows, and many scuttlings out of bed to listen at doors opened a crack, so that nearly every one of the occupants, on that particular hall soon knew that “old Fox” had Joel Pepper in her clutches, and that he was being led off somewhere.
And at last Joel let it out himself. “Oh Mrs. Fox—dear Mrs. Fox,don'tmake me go to Coventry,” he roared. He clutched her wrapper, a big, flowered affair that she wore on such nocturnal rambles, and held it fast. “I'll be just as good,” he implored.
“Coventry is the place for you, Joel Pepper,” said Mrs. Fox grimly; “so we will start.”
Meanwhile David, holding his breath till he saw, in the dim light that always streamed out from the dormitory hall where the gas was left turned down at night, that Joel was safely drawn in to shelter, frantically rushed around to the big door, in the wild hope that somehow admittance would be gained. “Joe will come by and by,” he said to himself, sinking down on the steps.
“We're done for,” said Tom's voice off in the distance.
“Oh Tom, are you there?” cried Davie, straining his eyes to catch a glimpse.
“Hush!” Tom poked his head out from a clump of shrubbery. “Don't you dare to breathe. I tell you, Dave, our only hope is in staying here till morning.”
“Oh dear me!” exclaimed David in dismay.
“Oh dear me!” echoed Tom in derision. Itwas impossible for him to stop talking, he was so keyed up. “It's paradise, I'm sure, compared to being in old Fox's grip.”
This brought David back to Joel's plight, and he sighed dismally, and leant his head on his hands. How long he sat there he couldn't have told. The first thing he did know, a big hand was laid on his shoulder, and a bright glare of light fell full on his face.
“Oh my soul and body!” cried John, the watchman, bending over him, “if here ain't one of th' boys dead asleep on the doorsteps!”
“Little goose, to sit there!” groaned Tom, huddling back into his bushes. “Now it's all up with him. Well, I'll save my skin, for I don't believe those boys will tell on me.”
“Coventry” was a small square room in the extension, containing a bed, a table, and a chair, where the boys who were refractory were sent. It was considered a great disgrace to be its inmate. They were not locked in; but no boy once put there was ever known to come out unless bidden by the authorities. And no one, of course, could speak to them when they emerged from it to go to recitations, for their lessons must be learned in the silence of this room. Thenback from the class-room the culprit must go to this hated place, to stay as long as his misdemeanor might seem to deserve.
It was so much worse punishment than a flogging could possibly be, that all Dr. Marks' boys heard “Coventry” with a chill that stopped many a prank in mid-air.
But Joel didn't get into “Coventry” after all, for at the foot of the stairs, another candle-beam was advancing; and back of it was the thin, sharp face of Mr. Harrow, one of the under-teachers.
“Oh Mr. Harrow,” screamed Joel, breaking away from the matron, to plunge up to him, “she's going to put me into Coventry. Oh, don't make me go there; it will kill my Mamsie, and Polly.”
“Hey?” Mr. Harrow came to a sudden stop, and whirled the candlestick around to get a better view of things. “What's this, Mrs. Fox? AndJoel Pepper, of all boys!”
“I know it,” said Mrs. Fox, her candlestick shaking in an unsteady hand. “Well, you see, sir, I was going upstairs to see if little Fosdick had blankets enough; it's turned cold, and you know he's had a sore throat, and——”
“Well, come to the point, Mrs. Fox,” said the teacher, bringing her up quickly. Joel clung desperately to his hand, shaking violently in every limb.
“Oh, yes, sir—well, and I heard a noise outside, so I bethought me to look, and there was this boy climbing up the lightning conductor.”
“Up the lightning conductor?” echoed Mr. Harrow.
“Yes, sir,”—Mrs. Fox's cap-frills trembled violently as she nodded,—“Joel Pepper was climbing up the lightning conductor, sir. And I thought I should have dropped to see him, sir.”
The under-teacher turned and surveyed Joel. “Well, I think, Mrs. Fox,” he said slowly, “if he's been over that lightning conductor to-night, we won't put him in Coventry.”
“He wouldn't answer when I asked him if any other boys were there,” said the matron, a dull red spot coming on either cheek.
“That's bad—very bad,” said Mr. Harrow. “Well, I'll take Joel under my care. Do you go to bed, Mrs. Fox.”
It was all done in a minute. Somehow Mrs. Fox never quite realized how she was left standingalone. And as there really wasn't anything else for her to do, she concluded to take the under-teacher's advice.
“Now, Joel,”—Mr. Harrow looked down at his charge,—“you seem to be left for me to take care of. Well, suppose you come into my room, and tell me something about this affair.”
Joel, with his heart full of distress about David and Tom, now that the immediate cause of alarm over his being put into “Coventry” was gone, could scarcely conceal his dismay, as he followed Mr. Harrow to his room. He soon found himself on a chair; and the under-teacher, setting his candlestick down, took an opposite one.
“Do you mind telling me all about this little affair of yours, Joe?” said Mr. Harrow, leading off easily. His manner, once away from the presence of the matron, was as different as possible; and Joel, who had never met him in just this way, stared in amazement.
“You see, Joe,” the under-teacher went on, and he began to play with some pencils on the table, “it isn't so very long ago, it seems to me, since I was a boy. And I climbed lightning conductors too. I really did, Joel.”
Joel's black eyes gathered a bright gleam in their midst.
“Yes, and at night, too,” said the under-teacher softly, “though I shouldn't want you to mention it to the boys. So now, if you wouldn't mind, Joel, I should really like to hear all about this business of yours.”
But Joel twisted his hands, only able to say, “Oh dear! I can't tell, Mr. Harrow.” His distress was dreadful to see.
“Well,” said the under-teacher slowly, “perhaps in the morning you'll feel better able to tell. I won't press it now. You must get to bed, Joe,” with a keen look at his face.
“Oh Mr. Harrow—would you—would you—” Joel jumped out of his seat, and over to the under-teacher's chair.
“Would I what?” asked Mr. Harrow in perplexity, wishing very much that “Mamsie,” whom he had seen on her visits to the school, were there at that identical moment.
“Would you—oh, might I unlock the—the back door?” gasped Joel, his black eyes very big with distress.
“Unlock the back door?” repeated Mr. Harrow. Then he paused a moment. “Certainly;I'll go with you.” He got out of his chair.
“Oh, no, sir,” cried Joel tumbling back, “I'll—I'll do it alone if I may; please, sir.”
“Oh, no, Joel, that can't ever be allowed,” Mr. Harrow was saying decidedly, when steps were heard coming down the hall, and there was John, the watchman, hauling David Pepper along the dimly lighted hall to the extra gleam of the under-teacher's room.
“I found this boy asleep on the steps,” announced John, coming in with his charge.
“Why, David Pepper!” exclaimed Mr. Harrow in astonishment. Then he turned a cold glance on Joel, who flew over to Davie's side.
“Joel!” cried David convulsively, and blinking dreadfully as he came into the light. “Oh, I'm so glad you're safe—oh, so glad, Joey!” He hid his face on Joel's arm, and sobbed.
“You may go, John,” said the under-teacher to that individual, who kept saying, “I found that boy asleep on the steps,” over and over, unable to stop himself. “And don't say anything about this to any one. I will take care of the matter.”
“All right, sir,” said John, glad to be relieved of all responsibility, and touching his cap. “Ifound that boy asleep on the steps,” he added as he took himself off.
“Now, see here.” Mr. Harrow laid his hand on David's shoulder, ignoring Joel for the time, and drew him aside. “The whole of this business must be laid before me, David. So begin.”
“Oh Dave!” cried Joel, springing up to him. “Oh, sir—oh, Mr. Harrow, it was all my fault, truly it was. David only came after me. Oh Mr. Harrow, don't make him tell.”
“You go and sit down in that chair, Joel,” said Mr. Harrow, pointing to it. So Joel went, and got on it, twisting miserably.
“Now, then, David.”
“You see,” said David, the tears still rolling down his cheeks, “that—oh dear!—Joel was gone, and—”
“How did you know Joel was gone?” interrupted the under-teacher.
“Oh dear!” David caught his breath. “Another boy told me, sir.”
“Who?”
David hesitated. “Must I tell, sir?” not trusting himself to look at Joel.
“Certainly.”
“Tom Beresford.”
“Ugh!” Joel sprang from his chair. “He hadn't anything to do with it, sir. Tom has been awfully good. He only told Dave.”
“Go back to your chair, Joel,” said Mr. Harrow. “Now, then, David, go on. So you went out with Beresford to find Joel, eh?”
“Yes, sir,” said David faintly.
“Any other boy?” asked the under-teacher quickly.
“No, sir.”
“Well, then, Tom is waiting out there, I suppose, now.” Mr. Harrow got out of his chair.
“He didn't have anything to do with it, sir,” cried Joel wildly, and flying out of his chair again, “truly he didn't.”
“I understand.” Mr. Harrow nodded. “I'm going to bring him in. Now it isn't necessary to tell you two boys not to do any talking while I'm gone.” With that he went over to a corner, took down a lantern, lighted it, and passed out.
When he came back, both Joel and David knew quite well by Tom's face, that the whole story was out; and Joel, who understood as well as any one that Floyd Jenkins never by any possibilitycould be a favorite with instructors, any more than with the boys, unless he changed his whole tactics, groaned again at thought that he had made matters worse for him.
“Now all three of you scatter to bed,” was all the under-teacher said as he came in with Tom. “No talking now; get up as softly as you can. Good night.”
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And the next day, the story which flew all over the yard, how that Joel Pepper was “put into Coventry” last night, was overtaken and set right.
“Huh! there, now you see,” cried Van Whitney, coming out of his rage. He had cried so that his eyes were all swollen up, and he was a sight to behold. Percy, too miserable to say anything, and wishing he could ever cry when he felt badly, had slunk out of sight, to bear the trouble as well as he might. Now he came up bright and smiling. “Yes, now you see,” he cried triumphantly.
“Oh, I hope that mean beggar Jenk will be expelled.” There appeared to be but one voice about it.
“Well, he won't,” said Van.
“Won't? Why not?” The boys crowded around him on the playground, all games being deserted for this new excitement. “Why not, pray tell?”
“Of course he will,” said one boy decidedly. “Dr. Marks never'll keep him after this.”
“Yes he will too,” roared Van, glad he could tell the news first, but awfully disappointed that it must be that Jenkins was to stay, “for Joel got Dr. Marks to promise there shouldn't anything be done to Jenk. So there now!”
“What, not after locking that door! That was the worst.” The boys, two or three of them, took up the cry, “'Twas beastly mean.”
“Contemptible! Just like Jenk!” went all over the playground.
“Well, he isn't to go,” repeated Van with a sigh; “and Joel says he was as bad, because he went out at night to fight.”
“Why, he had to; Jenk dared him. And he couldn't have it out in the dormitory; you know he couldn't, Whitney,” said one of the boys in surprise.
“Oh dear! I know,” said Van helplessly. “Well, Joel says it's no matter that the racket was stolen out of his room, and—”
“No matter!” ejaculated the boys, a whole crowd of them swarming around him, “well, if that isn'tmonstrous!”
“Oh, Joel's afraid that Dr. Marks will expelJenk,” Percy, very uncomfortable to have Joel blamed, made haste to say. “Don't you see?”
“Well, he ought to be turned out,” declared one boy decidedly. “Never mind, we'll make it so hot for that Jenk, he'll want to go.”
“No, you mustn't,” declared Percy, now very much alarmed. “Oh, no, you mustn't, Hobbs; because, if you do, Joel won't like it. Oh, he'll be so angry! He won't like it a bit, I tell you,” he kept saying.
The idea of Joel's not liking it, seemed to take all the fun out of the thing; so Hobbs found himself saying, “Well, all right, I suppose we've got to put up with the fellow then. But you know yourself, Whitney, he's a mean cad.”
There seemed to be but one opinion about that. But the fact remained that Jenkins was still to be one of them, to be treated as well as they could manage. And for the next few days, Joel had awfully hard work to be go-between for all the crowd, and the boy who had made it hard for him.
“You'll have to help me out, Tom,” he said more than once in despair.
“Pretty hard lines,” said Tom. Then the color flew all over his face. “I suppose I reallyought, for you know, Pepper, I told you I wanted at first that you should lose your racket.”
“Never mind that now, Tom,” said Joel brightly, and sticking out his brown hand. “You've been awfully good ever since.”
“Had to,” grunted Tom, hanging to the hand, “when I saw how mean the beggar was.”
“And but for you I should never have found the racket, at least not in time.” Joel shivered, remembering the close call he had had from losing the game.
Tom shivered too, but for a different cause. “If I hadn't told him, I'd always have hated myself,” he thought.
“Well, Joe, I wouldn't after this give away a racket. Now you see if you hadn't bestowed your old one on that ragamuffin in town, you wouldn't have been in such a scrape.” Tom tried to turn it off lightly.
“Oh, that made no difference,” Joel made haste to say, “'cause I could have borrowed another. But I'd got used to my new one. Besides, Grandpapa sent it to me to practise with for this game, and I really couldn't have done so well without it.”
“Yes, I know—I know,” said Tom remorsefully,“and that's what Jenk knew, too, the beggar!”
“Well, it's all over now,” said Joel merrily, “so say no more about it.”
But it wasn't all over with Jenkins; and he resolved within himself to pay Joel Pepper up sometime, after the boys had forgotten a little about this last exploit, if they ever did.
And that afternoon Joel staid in, foregoing all the charms of a ball game, to write Mamsie a complete account of the affair, making light of the other boys' part in it, and praising up Tom Beresford to the skies. “And oh, Mamsie,” Joel wrote over and over, “Dave didn't have anything to do with it—truly he didn't. And Mr. Harrow is just bully,” he wrote,—then scratched it out although it mussed the letter up dreadfully—“he's fine, he is! And oh, I like Dr. Marks, ever so much, I do”—till Mrs. Fisher had a tolerably good idea of the whole thing.
“I'm not sorry, Adoniram,” she said, after Dr. Fisher had read the letter at least twice, and then looked over his spectacles at her keenly, “that I agreed with Mr. King that it was best that the boys should go away to school.”
“Now any other woman,” exclaimed the little doctor admiringly, “would have whimpered right out, and carried on dreadfully at the least sign of trouble coming to her boy.”
“No, I'm not a bit sorry,” repeated Mrs. Fisher firmly, “for it's going to be the making of Joel, to teach him to take care of himself. And I'd trust him anywhere,” she added proudly.
“So you may; so you may, my dear,” declared the little doctor gaily. “And I guess, if the truth were told, that Joel's part in this whole scrape hasn't been such a very bad one after all.”
Which came to be the general view when Dr. Marks' letter arrived, and one from the under-instructor followed, setting things in the right light. And although old Mr. King was for going off directly to interview the master, with several separate and distinct complaints and criticisms, he was at last persuaded to give up the trip and let matters work their course under the proper guidance at the school.
“So, Polly, my child,” he said on the following day, when the letters were all in, “I believe I'll trust Dr. Marks, after all, to settle the affair. He seems a very good sort of a man, on the whole, and I really suppose he knows what to do witha lot of boys; though goodness me! how he can, passes my comprehension. So I am not going.”
“Oh Grandpapa!” exclaimed Polly, the color flooding her cheek, and she seized his hand in a glad little way.
“Yes, I really see no necessity for going,” went on the old gentleman, much as if he were being urged out of his way to set forth; “so I shall stay at home. Joel can take care of himself. I'd trust him anywhere,” he brought up, using the same words that Mother Fisher had employed.
“Wouldn't you, Grandpapa!” cried Polly with sparkling eyes, and clinging to him.
“Yes, Polly, my child,” said Grandpapa emphatically, “because, no matter into what mischief Joe may get, he always owns up. Goodness me! Polly, that boy can't go very far wrong, with such a mother as you've got.”
Alexia Rhys, running through the wide hall, came upon the two. “Oh, beg pardon, and may we girls have Polly?” all in the same breath.
“Get away with you,” laughed old Mr. King, who had his own reasons for liking Alexia, “that's the way you always do, trying to get Polly Pepper away when we are having a good talk.”
“Oh dear!” exclaimed Alexia, doing her best to curb her impatience, and pinching her hands together, “we did so want—”
“I can't go now, Alexia,” said Polly, still clinging to Mr. King's hand.
Grandpapa sent a keen glance over into Alexia's face. “I think you better go, Polly,” he said. “You and I will have our talk later.”
“Oh goody!” cried Alexia, hopping up and down. And “Oh Grandpapa!” reproachfully from Polly.
“Yes, Polly, it's best for you to go with the girls now,” said old Mr. King, gently relinquishing her hands, “so run along with you, child.” And he went into the library.
“Come right along,” cried Alexia gustily, and pulling Polly down the hall.
“There now, you see, you've dragged me away from Grandpapa,” cried Polly in a vexed way.
“Well, he said you were to go,” cried Alexia, perfectly delighted at the result. “Oh, we're to have such fun! You can't think, Polly Pepper.”
“Of course he did, when you said the girls wanted me,” said Polly, half determined, even then, to run back. “I'd much rather have staid with him, Alexia.”
“Well, you can't, because he said you were to come; and besides, here are the girls.” And there they were on the back porch, six or eight of them in a group.
“Oh Polly, Polly!” they cried, “are you coming—can you really go?” swarming around her. “And do get your hat on,” said Clem Forsythe “and hurry up.”
“Where are you going?” asked Polly.
“The idea! Alexia Rhys, you are a great one to send after her,” cried Sally Moore. “Not even to tell her where we are going, or what we want her for!”
“Well, I got her here, and that is half of the battle,” said Alexia, in an injured way; “and my goodness me! Polly won't hardly speak to me now; and you may go yourself after her next time, Sally Moore.”
“There, girls, don't fight,” said Clem sweetly. “Polly, we are going out to Silvia Horne's. Mrs. Horne has just telephoned to see if we'll come out to supper. Come, hurry up; we want to catch the next car. She says she'll send somebody home with us.”
“Yes, yes, do hurry,” begged the girls, hopping up and down on anxious feet.
“I must ask Mamsie,” said Polly. “Oh, how perfectly splendid!” running off with a glad remembrance of lessons all ready for the next day. “Now how nice it is that Mamsie always made me get them the first thing,” she reflected as she sped along.
Mamsie said “yes,” for she well knew that Mrs. Horne was a careful person, and when she promised anything it was always well done. “But brush your hair, Polly,” she said, “it looks very untidy flying all over your head.”
So Polly rushed off to her own room; Alexia, who didn't dare to trust her out of her sight, at her heels, to get in the way, and hinder dreadfully by teasing Polly every minute to “hurry—we'll lose the train.”
“Where are you going, Polly?” asked Phronsie, hearing Alexia's voice; and laying down her doll, she went into the blue and white room that was Polly's very own. “Oh, may I go too?” as Polly ran to the closet to get out her second-best hat.
“Oh dear me!” began Alexia.
“No, Pet,” said Polly, her head in the closet. “Oh my goodness! whereisthat hat?”
“Oh dear!” exclaimed Alexia, wringing herhands, “we'll be late and miss the train. Do hurry, Polly Pepper.”
“I'll find it, Polly,” said Phronsie, going to the closet and getting down on her knees, to peer around.
“Oh, it wouldn't be on the floor, Phronsie,” began Polly. “Oh dear me! wherecanit be?”
“Here it is,” cried Alexia, “behind the bed.” And running off, she picked it up, and swung it over to Polly.
“Goodness me!” said Polly with a little laugh, “I remember now, I tossed it on the bed, I thought. Well, I'm ready now, thank fortune,” pinning on her hat. “Good-bye, Pet.”
“I am so very glad it is found, Polly,” said Phronsie, getting up on tiptoe to pull Polly's hat straight and get another kiss.
“Come on, Polly,” called Alexia, flying over the stairs. “Yes, yes, girls, she's coming! Oh dear me, Polly, we'll be late!”
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But they weren't—not a bit of it—and had ten minutes to spare as they came rushing up to the station platform.
“Oh, look—look, girls.” Polly Pepper pointed up to the clock, pushing back the damp rings of hair from her forehead. “Oh dear me—I'm so hot!”
“And so am I,” panted the other girls, dashing up. One of them sank down on the upper step, and fanned herself in angry little puffs with her hat, which she twitched off for that purpose.
“Just like you, Alexia,” cried one when she could get her breath, “you're always scaring us to death.”
“Well, I'm sure I was scared myself, Clem,” retorted Alexia, propping herself against the wall. “Oh dear! I can't breathe; I guess I'm going to die—whew, whew!”
As Alexia made this statement quite often onsimilar occasions, the girls heard it with the air of an old acquaintance, and straightened their coats and hats, and pulled themselves into shape generally.
“Oh my goodness, how you look, Sally! Your hat is all over your left eye.” Alexia deserted her wall, and ran over to pull it straight.
“You let me be,” cried Sally crossly, and twitching away. “If it hadn't been for you, my hat would have staid where I put it. I'll fix it myself.” She pulled out the long pin.
“Oh dear me! now the head has come off,” she mourned.
“Oh my goodness! Your face looks the worst—isn't it sweet!” cried Alexia coolly, who hadn't heard this last.
“Don't, Alexia,” cried Polly, “she's lost her pin.”
“Misery!” exclaimed Alexia, starting forward, “oh, where, where—”
“It isn't the pin,” said Sally, holding that out, “but the head has flown off.” She jumped off from the step and began to peer anxiously around in the dirt, all the girls crowding around and getting dreadfully in the way.
“What pin was it, Sally?” asked Polly, pokinginto a tuft of grass beneath the steps, “your blue one?”
“No; it was my best one—oh dear me!” Sally looked ready to cry, and turned away so that the girls couldn't see her face.
“Not the one your aunt gave you, Sally!” exclaimed Clem.
“Yes—yes.” Sally sniffed outright now. “Oh dear! I put it in because—because—we were going to Silvia's—oh dear me!”
She gave up now, and sobbed outright.
“Don't cry, Sally,” begged Polly, deserting her grass-tuft, to run over to her. “We'll find it.” Alexia was alternately picking frantically in all the dust-heaps, and wringing her hands, one eye on the clock all the while.
“Oh, no, you won't,” whimpered Sally. “It flew right out of my hand, and it's gone way off—I know it has—oh dear!” and she sobbed worse than ever.
“Perhaps one of those old hens will pick it up,” suggested Lucy Bennett, pointing across the way to the station master's garden, where four or five fowl were busily scratching.
“Oh—oh!” Sally gave a little scream at that, and threw herself into Polly Pepper's arms.“My aunt's pin—and she told me—to be careful, and she won't—won't ever give me anything else, and now those old hens will eat it. Ohdearme! what shall I do?”
“How can you, Lucy, say such perfectly dreadful things?” cried Polly. “Don't cry, Sally. Girls, do keep on looking for it as hard as you can. Sally, do stop.”
But Sally was beyond stopping. “She told—told me only to wear it Sundays, and with my best—best dress. Oh, do give me your handkerchief, Polly. I've left mine home.”
So Polly pulled out her clean handkerchief from her coat pocket, and Sally wiped up her face, and cried all over it, till it was a damp little wad; and the girls poked around, and searched frantically, and Alexia, one eye on the clock, exclaimed, “Oh, girls, it's time for the train. Oh misery me! whatshallwe do?”
“And here it comes!” Lucy Bennett screamed.
“Stick on your hat, Sally, you've the pin part. Come, hurry up!” cried the others. And they all huddled around her.
“Oh, I can't go,” began Sally.
“You must,” said Clem; “we've telephoned back to Mrs. Horne we're coming. Do stick on your hat, Sally Moore.”
Alexia was spinning around, saying over and over to herself, “I won't stay back—I won't.” Then, as the train slowly rounded the long curve and the passengers emerged from the waiting-room, she rushed up to the knot of girls. “Go along, Sally Moore, and I'll stay and hunt for your old pin,” just as some one twitched Sally's hat from her fingers and clapped it on her head.
“Oh my goodness me!” Alexia gave a little scream, and nearly fell backward. “Look—it's on your own head! Oh, girls, I shall die.” She pointed tragically up to the hat, then gave a sudden nip with her long fingers, and brought out of a knot of ribbon, a gilt, twisted affair with pink stones. “You had it all the time, Sally Moore,” and she went into peals of laughter.
“Well, do stop; everybody's looking,” cried the rest of the girls, as they raced off to the train, now at a dead stop. Sally, with her hat crammed on her head at a worse angle than ever, only realized that she had the ornament safely clutched in her hand.
“Oh, I can't help it,” exclaimed Alexia gustily, and hurrying off to get next to Polly. “Oh dear me!—whee—whee!” as they all plunged into the train.
When they arrived at Edgewood, there was a carriage and a wagonette drawn up by the little station, and out of the first jumped Silvia, and following her, a tall, thin girl who seemed to have a good many bracelets and jingling things.
“My cousin, Kathleen Briggs. She just came to-day,” said Silvia, “while I was at school, and so mother thought it would be nice to have you girls out to supper, 'cause they're only going to stay till to-morrow. Oh, it's so fine that you've come! Well, come and get in. Polly, you're going in the carriage with Kathleen and me. Come on.”
Alexia crowded up close behind.
“I'm going with Polly Pepper, this time,” announced Sally, pushing in between; “Alexia always gets her.”
“Well, she's my very dearest friend,” said Alexia coolly, and working her long figure up close to Polly, as Silvia led her off, “so of course I always must go with her.”
“Well, so she is our very dearest friend, too, Alexia Rhys,” declared Clem, “and we're going to have her sometimes, ourselves.” And there they were in a dreadful state, and Silvia's cousin, the new girl, to see it all!
She jingled her bracelets, and picked at the long chain dangling from her neck, and stared at them all.
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Polly Pepper with very red cheeks. “Alexia, don't—don't,” she begged.
“Well, I don't care,” said Alexia recklessly, “the girls are always picking at me because I will keep next to you, Polly, and you're my very dearest friend, and——”
“But Sally had such a fright about her pin,” said Polly in a low tone. Alexia was crowded up close and hugging her arm, so no one else heard.
“Well, that old pin dropped in the ribbon; she had it herself all the time, oh dear!” Alexia nearly went off again at the remembrance.
“She felt badly, all the same,” said Polly slowly. She didn't even smile, and Alexia could feel that the arm was slipping away from her.
“Oh dear me!” she began, then she dropped Polly Pepper's arm. “Sally, you may go next,” she cried suddenly, and she skipped back into the bunch of the other girls.
Polly sent her an approving little nod, and she didn't fail to smile now. Alexia ran over to thewagonette, and hopped in, not daring to trust herself to see Sally Moore's satisfaction ahead in the coveted seat.
The other girls jumping in, the wagonette was soon filled, and away they spun for the two miles over to the Hornes' beautiful place. And before long, their respects having been paid to Mrs. Horne, the whole bevy was up in Silvia's pretty pink and white room overlooking the lake.
“I think it's just too lovely for anything here, Silvia Horne,” exclaimed Sally, whose spirits were quite recovered now. She had her aunt's pin all safe, and she had ridden up next to Polly. “Oh girls, she has a new pincushion and cover.”
“Yes, a whole new set,” said Silvia carelessly, as the girls rushed over from the bed where they were laying their things, to see this new acquisition to the beautiful room.
“Well, if I could have such perfectly exquisite things,” breathed Alexia as they all oh-ed and ah-ed over the pink ribbons and dainty lace, “I'd be the very happiest girl.”
Kathleen Briggs thrust her long figure in among the bevy. “That toilet set is very pretty,” she said indifferently and with quite a young-lady air.
“Very pretty!” repeated Alexia, turning her pale eyes upon her in astonishment, “well, I should think it was! It's too perfectly elegant for anything!”
“Oh dear me!” Kathleen gave a little laugh. “It's just nothing to the one I have on my toilet table at home. Besides, I shall bring home some Oriental lace, and have a new one: I'm going around the world to-morrow, you know.”
“Oh my goodness!” exclaimed Alexia faintly. And the other girls fell back, and stared respectfully.
“Yes,” said Kathleen, delighted at the effect she had produced. “We start to-morrow, and we don't know how long we shall be gone. Perhaps two years. Papa says he'll stay if we want to; but mamma and I may get tired and come home.” She jingled her bracelets worse than ever.
“They've come to bid us good-bye, you see,” said Silvia, to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Oh yes,” said Polly Pepper.
“Well, if you've got your things off, let's go out of doors,” proposed Silvia suddenly.
“Yes, do let's.” The girls drew a long breath as they raced off.
“I think that Kathleen Briggs is too perfectly horrid for anything”—Alexia got up close to Polly as they flew down the stairs—“with her going round the world, and her sniffing at Silvia's toilet set.”
“Hush—hush!” whispered Polly, “she'll hear you.”
“Well, I don't care; and she's going round the world to-morrow, so what does it signify?” said Alexia. “Oh, don't go so fast, Polly. You most made me tumble on my nose.”
“Well, you mustn't come with me, then, if you don't keep up,” said Polly, with a merry little laugh, and hurrying on.
“I'm going to keep up,” cried Alexia, dashing after, “but you go so fast,” she grumbled.
“We're going to have tea out on the lawn,” announced Silvia in satisfaction, as the bevy rushed out on the broad west piazza.
The maids were already busily setting three little tables, that were growing quite pretty under their hands.
“There will be four at each table,” said Silvia. “Polly's going to sit with Kathleen and me, and one other girl—I don't know which one yet,” she said slowly.
“Oh, choose me.” Alexia worked her way along eagerly to the front. “I'm her dearest friend—Polly's, I mean. So you ought to choose me.”
“Well, I sha'n't,” declared Silvia. “You crowded me awfully at Lucy Bennett's party, and kept close to Polly Pepper all the time.”
“Well, that's because you would keep Polly yourself. You crowded and pushed horribly yourself, you know you did.” Her long face was quite red now.
“Well, I had to,” declared Silvia coolly. “At any rate, you sha'n't have Polly to-day, for I've quite decided. Clem, you shall have the other seat at my table.”
Clem hopped up and down and beat her hands together in glee. “There, Alexia Rhys!” she cried in triumph. “Who's got Polly Pepper now, I'd like to know!”
Alexia, much discomfited, fell back. “Well, I think that's a great way to give a party,” she said, “to get up a fight the first thing.”
But Silvia and Kathleen had got Polly Pepper one on each side, and were now racing down to the lake. “We're going to have a sail,” called Silvia over her shoulder, so they all followed,Alexia among the rest, with no time for anything else. There was the steam launch waiting for them.
“Girls—girls!” Mrs. Horne called to them from the library, “wait a moment. Mr. and Mrs. Briggs are going too.”
“Oh bother!” began Silvia. Then the color flew into her face, for Kathleen heard.
“I shall tell my mother what you said,” she declared.
“Dear me! no, you mustn't,” begged Silvia in alarm.
“Yes, I shall too.” Kathleen's bracelets jingled worse than ever as she shook them out.
“Well, I call that real hateful,” broke out Silvia, a red spot on either cheek, “you know I didn't mean it.”
“Well, you said it. And if you think it's a bother to take my mother and father out on your old launch, I sha'n't stop here and bring you anything when I come home from around the world.”
Silvia trembled. She very much wanted something from around the world. So she put her arm about Kathleen. “Oh, make up now,” she said. “They're coming,” as Mr. and Mrs.Briggs advanced down the path. “Promise you won't tell,” she begged.
“Yes, do,” said Polly Pepper imploringly.
So Kathleen promised, and everything became quite serene, just in time for Mr. and Mrs. Briggs to have the girls presented to them. And then they all jumped into the steam launch, and the men sent her into the lake, and everything was as merry as could be under the circumstances.
“I haven't got to go to school to-morrow,” announced Silvia when they were well off. “Isn't that too fine for anything, girls?”
“Dear me! I should say so,” cried Alexia enviously. “How I wish I could ever stay home! But aunt is so very dreadful, she makes me go every single day.”
“Well, I'm going to stay home to bid Kathleen good-bye, you know,” said Silvia.
“You see we are going around the world,” announced Mrs. Briggs. She was just like Kathleen as far as mother and daughter could be, and she had more jingling things on, besides a long lace scarf that was catching in everything; and she carried a white, fluffy parasol in her hand. “And we've come to bid good-bye to our relatives before we start. Kathleen, youshouldn't have come out on the water without your hat,” for the first time noticing her daughter's bare head.
“None of the girls have hats on,” said Kathleen, shaking her long light braids.
“Well, I don't see how their mothers can allow it,” exclaimed Mrs. Briggs, glancing around on the group, “but I sha'n't let you, Kathleen. Dear me! you will ruin your skin. Now you must come under my parasol.” She moved up on the seat. “Here, come over here.”
“Oh, I'm not going to,” cried Kathleen with a grimace. “I can't see anything under that old thing. Besides, I'm going to stay with the girls.”
“Yes, you must come under my parasol.” A frown of real anxiety settled on her mother's face. “You'll thank me by and by for saving your complexion for you, Kathleen; so come over.”
“No,” said Kathleen, hanging back, and holding to Silvia's arm.
“There's your veil, you know.” Mr. Briggs hadn't spoken before, but now he edged up to his wife. “It's in my pocket.”
“So it is,” cried his wife joyfully, as Mr. Briggs pulled out a long green tissue veil. “I am so glad I had you bring it. Now, Kathleen,tie this all over your head; your father will bring it over to you. And next time, do obey me, and wear your hat as I've always told you.”
So Kathleen, not daring to hold back from this command, but grumbling at every bit of the process, tied on the veil, and then sat up very cross and stiff through the rest of the sail.
“I should rather never go around the world, if I'd got to be tied up like an old green mummy every step,” Alexia managed to whisper in Polly's ear as they hopped out of the launch. And she was very sweet to Kathleen after that, pitying her dreadfully.