XVII
"I'VE FOUND HIM!" EXCLAIMED JASPER
And for the next few days Phronsie talked about the poor man, andwished they could see his children, and hoped he had bought them somenice things to eat, and worried over him because he was all skin andbones.
"Ah! the bones were real, even if the children aren't," Grandpapa wouldsay to himself. "Well, I suppose I have been taken in, but at least thefellow hasn't starved to death."
And then off they would go sight-seeing as fast as possible, to take upthe mind of Phronsie, who watched for Grandpapa's poor man in everywretched creature she saw. And there were plenty of them.
And then Adela went back to school, happy in the thought of the littlepile of sketches she had to show as her summer's work, and with ever somany studies and bits to finish up under Mademoiselle's direction; andlittle old Mrs. Gray, breathing blessings on Mr. King's head, departedfor her English country home.
"Now, then, I have ever so much shopping to do," announced old Mr.King, briskly, "and I shall want you to help me, Phronsie."
"I'll help you, Grandpapa," promised Phronsie, well pleased, andgravely set herself to the task.
So they wandered away by themselves, having the most blissful of times,and coming home to the hotel, they would gaily relate their adventures;and Phronsie would often carry a little parcel or two, which it was hergreatest delight to do; and then the trail of big boxes would followthem as they were sent home to the hotel to tell of their experiencesin the shops.
"And Grandpapa is going to get me a new doll," announced Phronsie, onone of these days.
"Do you mean a peasant doll to add to the collection?" asked Polly; forold Mr. King had bought a doll in the national costume in every countryin which they had travelled, and they had been packed away, togetherwith the other things as fast as purchased, and sent off home acrossthe sea.
"Yes," said Phronsie. "I do, Polly, and it's to be a most beautifulFrench doll--oh!"
And sure enough, Mr. King, who knew exactly what kind of a doll hemeant to purchase, and had kept his eyes open for it, stumbled upon itby a piece of rare good luck in a shop where he least expected to findit.
"Oh, may I carry her home, Grandpapa?" begged Phronsie, hanging overthe doll in a transport. "Please don't have her shut up in a box--butdo let me carry her in my arms."
"Oh, Phronsie, she's too big," objected Mr. King, "and very heavy."
"Oh, Grandpapa, she's not heavy," cried Phronsie, not meaning tocontradict, but so anxious not to have her child sent home shut up in abox, that she forgot herself.
"Well, I don't know but what you may," said Grandpapa, relenting. "Iwill call a cab after we get through with this next shop," hereflected, "and it won't hurt her to carry the doll that shortdistance." So they came out of the shop, and deciding to take a shortcut, they started across the boulevard, he taking the usual precautionto gather Phronsie's hand in his.
As they were halfway across the street, with its constant stream ofpedestrians and vehicles, a sudden gust of wind flapped the doll's pinksilk cape up against Phronsie's eyes, and taking her hand away fromGrandpapa's a second to pull down the cape, for she couldn't see, sheslipped, and before she knew it, had fallen on top of the doll in themiddle of the street.
A reckless cabby, driving as only a French cabman can, came dashingdown the boulevard directly in her path, while a heavily loaded omnibusgoing in the opposite direction was trying to get out of his way. Everso many people screamed; and some one pulled Mr. King back as hestarted to pick her up. It was all done in an instant, and every personexpected to see her killed, when a long, gaunt individual in a shabbycoat dashed in among the plunging horses, knocked up the head of theone belonging to the reckless cabby, swung an arm at the other pair todivert their course, and before any one could quite tell how, he pickedup Phronsie and bore her to the curbstone. Some one got Mr. King to thesame point, too exhausted with fright to utter a word.
When he came out of his shock, the shabby man was standing by Phronsie,the crowd that saw nothing in the incident to promise furtherdiversion, having melted away, and she was holding his hand, herlittle, mud-stained face radiant with happiness. "Oh, Grandpapa," shepiped out, "it's your poor man!"
"The dickens it is!" exploded Mr. King. "Well, I'm glad to find you.Here, call a cab, will you? I must get this child home; that's thefirst thing to be done."
The shabby man hailed a cab, but the cabman jeered at him and whirledby. So the old gentleman held up his hand; Phronsie all this time,strange to say, not mentioning her doll, and Mr. King, who wouldn'thave cared if a hundred dolls had been left behind, not giving it athought. Now she looked anxiously on all sides. "Oh, where is she,Grandpapa dear?" she wailed, "my child; where is she?"
"Never mind, Phronsie," cried Mr. King, "I'll get you another oneto-morrow. There, get in the cab, child."
"But I want her--I can't go home without my child!" And Phronsie's lipbegan to quiver. "Oh, there she is, Grandpapa!" and she darted off afew steps, where somebody had set the poor thing on the pavement,propped up against a lamp-post.
"Oh, you can't carry her home," said Mr. King, in dismay at the muddyobject splashed from head to foot, with the smart pink cape that hadbeen the cause of the disaster, now torn clear through the middle, bythe hoof of a passing horse. He shuddered at the sight of it. "Do leaveit, Phronsie, child."
"But she's sick now and hurt; oh, Grandpapa, I can't leave my child,"sobbed Phronsie, trying with all her might to keep the tears back. Allthis time the shabby man stood silently by, looking on.
A bright thought struck the old gentleman. "I'll tell you, Phronsie,"he said quickly. "Give the doll to this man for one of his littlechildren; they'll take care of it, and like it."
"Oh, Grandpapa!" screamed Phronsie, skipping up and down and clappingher muddy little hands, then she picked up the doll and lifted ittoward him. "Give my child to your little girl, and tell her to takegood care of it," she said.
As Phronsie's French had long been one of Grandpapa's specialresponsibilities in the morning hours, she spoke it nearly as well asPolly herself, so the man grasped the doll as he had seized the moneybefore.
"And now," said Mr. King, "you are not going to run away this timewithout telling me--oh, bless me!"
This last was brought out by an excited individual rushing up over thecurbstone to get out of the way of a passing dray, and thewalking-stick which he swung aloft as a protection, coming intocollision with Mr. King's hat, knocked it over his eyes.
"A thousand pardons, Monsieur!" exclaimed the Frenchman, bowing andscraping.
"You may well beg a thousand pardons," cried Mr. King, angrily, "to goabout in this rude fashion through the street."
"A thousand pardons," repeated the Frenchman, with more _empressement_than before, and tripping airily on his way.
When old Mr. King had settled his hat, he turned back to the man. "Nowtell me--why--" The man was nowhere to be seen.
"It surely does look bad," said the old gentleman to himself as hestepped into the cab with Phronsie; "that man's children are a myth.And I wanted to do something for them, for he saved Phronsie's life!"
This being the only idea he could possibly retain all the way home tothe hotel, he held her closely within his arm, Phronsie chatteringhappily all the way, how the little girl she guessed was just receivingthe doll, and wondering what name she would give it, and would she washits face clean at once, and fix the torn and muddy clothes?
"Oh, yes, yes, I hope so," answered Grandpapa, when she paused for ananswer. Jasper came running out as the cab drove into the court. "Oh!"he exclaimed, at sight of Phronsie's face, then drove the words on histongue back again, as he lifted her out.
"Give her to Polly to fix up a bit," said his father. "She's all right,Jasper, my boy, I can't talk of it now. Hurry and take her to Polly."
And for the following days, Mr. King never let Phronsie out of hissight. A new and more splendid doll, if possible, was bought, and allsorts and styles of cloth
es for it, which Phronsie took the greatestdelight in caring for, humming happily to herself at the pleasure thepoor man's little girl was taking at the same time with her other child.
"Grandpapa," she said, laying down the doll carefully on the sofa, andgoing over to the table where Mr. King had just put aside thenewspaper, "I do wish we could go and see that poor man and all hischildren--why didn't he tell us where he lived?"
"The dickens!" exclaimed old Mr. King, unguardedly, "because the fellowis an impostor, Phronsie. He saved your life," and he seized Phronsieand drew her to his knee, "but he lied about those children. O dearme!" And he pulled himself up.
"Then he hasn't any little children?" said Phronsie, opening her eyesvery wide, and speaking very slowly.
"Er-oh-I don't know," stammered Grandpapa; "it's impossible to tell,Phronsie."
"But you don't believe he has any," said Phronsie, with gravepersistence, fastening her brown eyes on his face.
"No, Phronsie, I don't," replied old Mr. King, in desperation. "If hehad, why should he run in this fashion when I was just asking him wherehe lived?"
"But he didn't hear you, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, "when the manknocked your hat off."
"Oh, well, he knew enough what I wanted," said Mr. King, who, now thathe had let out his belief, was going to support it by all the reasonsin his power. "No, no, Phronsie, it won't do; the fellow was animpostor, and we must just accept the fact, and make the best of it, mychild."
"But he told a lie," said Phronsie, in horror, unable to think ofanything else.
"Well." Mr. King had no words to say on that score, so he wisely saidnothing.
"That poor man told a lie," repeated Phronsie, as if producing a whollyfresh statement.
"There, child, I wouldn't think anything more of it," said Grandpapa,soothingly, patting her little hand.
"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, "I've given away my child, and she's sickbecause she fell and hurt her, and there isn't any little girl,and--and--that poor man told a lie!" And she flung herself up againstGrandpapa's waistcoat, and sobbed as if her heart would break.
Old Mr. King looked wildly around for Polly. And as good fortune wouldhave it, in she ran. This wasn't very strange, for Polly kept nearly asclose to Phronsie in these days, as Grandpapa himself.
"Here, Polly," he called brokenly, "this is something beyond me. Youmust fix it, child."
"Why, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, in dismay, and her tone was a bitreproachful. "Crying? Don't you know that you will make Grandpapa verysick unless you stop?"
Phronsie's little hand stole out from over her mouth where she had beentrying to hold the sobs back, and up to give a trembling pat on old Mr.King's cheek.
"Bless you, my child," cried Grandpapa, quite overcome, so that Pollysaid more reproachfully, "Yes, very sick indeed, Phronsie, unless youstop this minute. You ought to see his face, Phronsie."
Phronsie gathered herself up out of his arms, and through a rain oftears looked up at him.
"Are you sick, Grandpapa?" she managed to ask.
"Yes, dear; or I shall be if you don't stop crying, Phronsie," said Mr.King, pursuing all the advantage so finely gained.
"I'll stop," said Phronsie, her small bosom heaving. "I really will,Grandpapa."
"Now, you are the very goodest child," exclaimed Polly, down on herknees by Grandpapa's side, cuddling Phronsie's toes, "the very mostsplendid one in all this world, Phronsie Pepper."
"And you'll be all well, Grandpapa?" asked Phronsie, anxiously.
"Yes, child," said old Mr. King, kissing her wet face; "just as well asI can be, since you are all right."
"And, oh, Grandpapa, can't we go to Fontainebleau to-day?" begged Polly.
"Phronsie, just think--it will be precisely like the country, and wecan get out of the carriages, and can run and race in the forest. Can'twe, Grandpapa?"
"All you want to," promised Grandpapa, recklessly, and only toothankful to have something proposed for a diversion. "The very thing,"he added enthusiastically. "Now, Polly and Phronsie, run and tell allthe others to get ready, just as fast as they can, and we'll be off.Goodness me, Jasper, what makes you run into a room in this fashion?"
"I've found him!" exclaimed Jasper, dashing in, and tossing his cap onthe table, and his dark hair back from his forehead. "And he's allright--as straight as a die," he panted.
"Now what in the world are you talking of?" demanded his father, inextreme irritation. "Can't you make a plain statement, and enlighten uswithout all this noise and confusion, pray tell?"
Polly, who had Phronsie's hand in hers, just ready to run off, stoodquite still with glowing cheek.
"Oh, I do believe--Grandpapa--it is--it is!"--she screamedsuddenly--"your poor man! Isn't it, Jasper--isn't it?" she cried,turning to him.
"Yes, Polly," said Jasper, still panting from his run up the stairs;"and do hurry, father, and see for yourself; and we'll all go to him.I'll tell you all about it on the way."
When Mr. King comprehended that the man was found, and that he was "allright," as Jasper vehemently repeated over and over, he communicatedthat fact to Phronsie, whose delight knew no bounds, and in less timethan it takes to write it, Tom, who was the only one of the party to becollected on such short notice, had joined them, and they were bowlingalong in a big carriage, Jasper as guide, to the spot where the man waswaiting.
"You see it was just this way," Jasper was rapidly telling off. "I wasgoing down by the Madeleine, and I thought I would bring Phronsie someflowers; so I stopped at the market, and I couldn't find a little potof primroses I wanted, though I went the whole length; and at last,when I had given up, I saw just one in front of a woman who sat at thevery end."
"Do hurry, Jasper, and get to the conclusion," said his father,impatiently.
Polly dearly loved to have the story go on in just this way, as sheleaned forward, her eyes on Jasper's face, but she said nothing, onlysighed.
"Well," said Jasper, "I'll tell it as quickly as I can, father. Andthere were a lot of children, father, all round the woman where she saton a box, and she was tying in a bunch some flowers that were huddledin her lap, and the children were picking out the good ones for her;and just then a man, who was bending over back of them all, breakingoff some little branches from a big green one, straightened upsuddenly, and, father, as true as you live," cried Jasper, in intenseexcitement, "it was your poor man!"
"The children?" asked Mr. King, as soon as he could be heard for theexcitement.
"Are all his," cried Jasper, "and he took the money you gave him, andset his wife up in the flower business down in front of the Madeleine.Oh! and Phronsie, the doll you gave him was sitting up on another box,and every once in a while the littlest girl would stop picking out theflowers in her mother's lap, and would run over and wipe its face withher apron."
XXVIII
"WELL, I GOT HIM HERE," SAID THE LITTLE EARL
They were really on their way to see the little old earl, after all!How it came about, Mr. King, even days after it had all been decided,couldn't exactly remember. He recalled several conversations in Pariswith Tom's mother, who showed him bits of letters, and one inparticular that somehow seemed to be a very potent factor in the planthat, almost before he knew it, came to be made. And when he held out,as hold out he did against the acceptance of the invitation, he foundto his utmost surprise that every one, Mother Fisher and all, wasdecidedly against him.
"Oh, well," he had declared when that came out, "I might as well givein gracefully first as last." And he sat down at once and wrote a veryhandsome note to the little old earl, and that clinched the wholebusiness.
And after the week of this visit should be over, for old Mr. King wasfirmness itself on not accepting a day more, they were to bid good-byto Mrs. Selwyn and Tom, and jaunt about a bit to show a little of OldEngland to the Hendersons, and then run down to Liverpool to see themoff, and at last turn their faces toward Dresden, their winterhome--"and to my work!" said Polly to herself in delight.
So
now here they were, actually driving up to the entrance of the park,and stopping at the lodge-gate.
An old woman, in an immaculate cap and a stiff white apron over herbest linsey-woolsey gown which she had donned for the occasion, cameout of the lodge and courtesied low to the madam, and held open the biggate.
"How have you been, Mrs. Bell?" asked Mrs. Selwyn, with a kind smile,as the carriage paused a bit.
"Very well, my lady," said Mrs. Bell, her round face glowing withpride. "And the earl is well, bless him! and we are glad to welcome youhome again, and Master Tom."
"And I'm glad enough to get here, Mrs. Bell," cried Tom. "Now drive onat your fastest, Hobson."
Hobson, who knew very well what Master Tom's fastest gait was,preferred to drive through the park at what he considered the dignifiedpace. So they rolled on under the stately trees, going miles, it seemedto Polly, who sat on the back seat with Tom.
He turned to her, unable to conceal his impatience. "Anybody wouldthink this pair were worn out old cobs," he fumed. "Polly, you have noidea how they can go, when Hobson lets them out. What are you wastingall this time for, crawling along in this fashion, Hobson, when youknow we want to get on?"
Thus publicly addressed, Hobson let the handsome bays "go" as Tomexpressed it, and they were bowled along in a way that made Polly turnin delight to Tom.
"There--that's something like!" declared Tom. "Don't you like it,Polly?" looking into her rosy face.
"Like it!" cried Polly, "why, Tom Selwyn, it's beautiful. And thesesplendid trees--" she looked up and around. "Oh, I never saw any sofine."
"They're not half bad," assented Tom, "these oaks aren't, and we havesome more, on the other end of the park, about five miles off, that--"
"Five miles off!" cried Polly, with wide eyes. "Is the park as big asthat, Tom?"
He laughed. "That isn't much. But you'll see it all for yourself," headded. Then he rushed off into wondering how his dogs were. "And, oh,you'll ride with the hounds, Polly!"
Just then some rabbits scurried across the wood, followed by severalmore pattering and leaping through the grass.
"Oh, Tom, see those rabbits!" cried Polly, excitedly.
"Yes, the warrens are over yonder," said Tom, bobbing his head in theright direction.
"What?" asked Polly, in perplexity.
"Rabbit-warrens; oh, I forgot, you haven't lived in England. You seemso much like an English girl, though," said Tom, paying the highestcompliment he knew of.
"Well, what are they?" asked Polly, quite overcome by the complimentcoming from Tom.
"Oh, they are preserves, you know, where the rabbits live, and they arenot allowed to be hunted here."
"Oh, do you ever hunt rabbits?" cried Polly, in horror, leaning out ofher side of the big coach to see the scurrying little animals.
"Not often," said Tom, "we mostly ride after the fox. You'll ride withthe hounds, Polly," he cried with enthusiasm. "We'll have a hunt whileyou're here, and we always wind up with a breakfast, you know. Oh,we'll have no end of sport." He hugged his long arms in hugesatisfaction.
And away--and away over the winding road and underneath the statelytrees, rolled the big coach, to be followed by the other carriages,like a dream it seemed to Polly, and more than ever, when at last theystopped in front of a massive pile of buildings with towers and archesand wings.
And the little old earl was kissing her rosy cheek in the most courtlyfashion, and saying while he shook her hand in his long fingers, "Andhow do you do, my dear?" And Mrs. Selwyn was by his other side. And Tomwas screeching out, "How do you do, Granddaddy!" And then, "Oh, Elinorand Mary!" to two quiet, plain-looking girls standing in thebackground. And "Ah, how d'ye kids!" as the faces of his two smallbrothers appeared. And Polly forgot all about the fact that she was inan earl's house, and she laughed and chatted; and in two minutes one ofTom's sisters was on either side of her, and the small boys in front,and the little groups were moving in and out of the old hall, asGrandpapa and the rest came in, and the head housekeeper in a blacksilk gown that seemed quite able to stand alone, and a perfect relay ofstiff figures in livery were drawn up underneath the armour hanging onthe wall.
And the little old earl worked his way up to her, and he had Grandpapaon his arm. "Well, I got him here," he said with twinkling eyes, and achuckle.
But the next morning--oh, the next morning!--when Polly tried tocompass as much of the thronging attractions as she could, and Jasperwas at his wits' end whenever he was appealed to, to decide what hewanted to do first--"cricket," or "punting on the river," that ranthrough the estate, or "riding through the park, and to the villageowned by his grandfather"? "I always go see the tenantry as soon as Iget home," said Tom, simply.
"Oh, then, let us go there by all means," said Jasper, quickly.
"I mean--oh, I'm no end awkward," exclaimed Tom, breaking off, his facecovered with confusion. "It's not necessary to go at once; we can fetchup there to-morrow."
"Oh, do let us go, Tom," begged Polly, clasping her hands. "I shoulddearly love most of all to see the tenantry and those dear littlecottages." And so that was decided upon.
And Tom had his beloved hunt, several of the gentry being asked. AndPolly rode a special horse selected by the little old earl himself.
"It's perfectly safe; he has an excellent disposition," he declared toold Mr. King, "and he'll carry her all right."
"I'm not afraid," said Mr. King, "the child rides well."
"So she must--so she must, I was sure of it," cried the little oldearl, with a series of chuckles. And he busied himself especially withseeing her mounted properly when the party gathered on the lawn infront of the old hall. The hounds were baying and straining at theleashes, impatient to be off; the pink hunting-coats gave dashes ofcolour as their owners moved about over the broad green sward,--underthe oaks,--and Polly felt her heart beat rapidly with the exhilaratingsights and sounds. It was only when they were off, and Tom riding up byher side expatiated on the glory of running down the fox and "being inat the death," that the colour died down on her cheek.
"Oh, Tom!" she said, reining in her horse. If he hadn't been thepossessor of a good disposition, he certainly would have bolted in hisdisappointment at being pulled up so abruptly. "It's so cruel to killthe poor fox in that way."
"Eh--what!" exclaimed Tom, not hearing the words, falling back to herside, consternation all over his face. "Why, I never knew Meteor tobreak in this way before."
"Oh, it isn't his fault," said Polly, hastily, and patting her horse'sneck. "I pulled him up. Oh, Tom, it's all so very cruel."
"Eh?" said Tom, in a puzzled way.
"To kill the fox in this way," said Polly, her heart sinking as shethought how dreadful it was for her to object, when visiting, toanything her host might plan. "O dear me!" and she looked so distressedthat Tom turned comforter at once.
"We all do it," he was saying, as Jasper rode up.
"Anything the matter?" he asked in great concern. "What's happened?"
"Nothing," said Tom, "only Polly doesn't like the fox-hunt."
"It's so cruel," cried Polly, turning to Jasper, with a little pinkspot coming in either cheek. "I ought to have thought of it before, butI didn't; it only seemed so very splendid to be rushing along with thehorses and dogs. But to chase that poor fox to death--O dear me!"
"We'll go back," suggested Tom, in distress; "don't be afraid, Polly,I'll make it all right with granddaddy." He concealed as best he mighthis awful disappointment as the echoes of the horn, the baying of thedogs, and now and then a scrap of chatter or a peal of laughter wasborne to them on the wind.
"Polly," said Jasper, in a low voice, "it isn't quite right, is it, todisturb the party now? Just think, Tom will go back with us."
The pink spots died out on Polly's cheek. "No, Jasper," she said, "itisn't right. Tom, you needn't say one word about going back, for I amgoing on." She gave the rein to Meteor and dashed off.
"We'll have a race through the park some day, Polly," called Tom, a
s hesped after her, "without any fox."
"Too bad, Polly, you weren't in at the death," said the little oldearl, sympathisingly, when at the hunt-breakfast following, the brushdangling to a victorious young lady's belt, had been admired as anextremely fine one. "Never mind; better luck next time, little girl."
But the fete to the tenantry, oh! that was something like, and more toPolly's taste, when this annual affair, postponed while Tom's motherand Tom were away, took place. For days before, the preparations hadbeen making, the stewards up to their eyes in responsibility to carryout the plans of the little old earl, who meant on this occasion tooutdo all his former efforts, and show his American friends how anEnglishman treats those under his care.
Oh, the big joints of beef, the haunches of venison, the fowls, themeat pies and the gooseberry tarts, the beer and the ale, and the teafor the old women, with nuts and sweeties for the children! Oh, Pollyknew about it all, as she went about with the little old earl while hegave his orders, her hand in his, just as if she were no older thanPhronsie, and not such a tall, big girl.
And Mrs. Selwyn was busy as a bee, and Mother Fisher was just in herelement here, in helping her; for flannel petticoats were to be givenout, and stuff frocks, and pieces of homespun, and boots and shoes, asprizes for diligent and faithful service; or an order for coals for thecoming winter for some poor cottager, or packages of tea, or some otherlittle comfort. And before any of them quite realised it, the days flewby, and in two more of them the King party would be off.
"It's perfectly useless to mention it," said the little old earl, quiteconfident in his power to influence old Mr. King to remain when he sawhow happily everything was running on. "My dear sir, you were asked fora fortnight."
"And I accepted for a week," retorted Mr. King, "and I go when thattime is up. We've had a visit--I can't express it to you, what a finetime--as near to perfection as it is possible for a visit to be; butday after to-morrow we surely must leave."
Tom was so despondent, as well as the old earl, that it was necessaryto cheer him up in some way. "Just think what a splendid thing for usto be in the midst of that fete for the peasantry," exclaimed Polly,with sparkling eyes. "It's quite too lovely for our last day."
But Tom wasn't to be raised out of his gloom in this way. "We've hadonly one game of cricket," he said miserably.
"And one afternoon at tennis, and we've been out punting on the riverthree times," said Polly.
"What's that? only a bagatelle," sniffed Tom, "compared to what I meantto do."
"Well, let's have the race on horseback this afternoon," proposedPolly, "down through the park, that you said you were going to have,Tom. Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Do," urged Jasper. "It would be so capital, Tom."
"All right," assented Tom, "if you'd really rather have that thananything else; but it seems as if I ought to think up something morefor the last afternoon, but the fete; and that doesn't count."
"Oh, nothing could be finer," declared Polly, and Jasper joined. So Tomrushed off to the stables to give the orders. And Polly on Meteor wassoon flying up and down with the boys, and Elinor and Mary. And the twosmall lads trotted after on their Shetland ponies, in and out thewinding roads of the park confines, without any haunting fear of a poorred fox to be done to death at the end.
And on the morrow, the sun condescended to come out in all his glory,upon the groups of tenantry scattered over the broad lawns. There weregames in abundance for the men and boys; and others for the children.There were chairs for the old women, and long benches for those whodesired to sit under the spreading branches of the great oaks to lookon. And there were cups of tea, and thin bread and butter passed aroundby the white-capped maids, superintended by the housekeeper and thebutler, quite important in their several functions. This was done toappease the hunger before the grand collation should take place later.And there was music by the fiddlers on the upper terrace, and therewas,--dear me, it would take quite too long to tell it all!
And at last, the order was given to fall into line, and march aroundthe long tables resplendent with their cold joints and hot joints;their pasties, and tarts, and cakes, and great flagons of ale. And overall was a wealth of bloom from the big old English gardens in the rearof the old hall. The posies filled Polly with delight, as she and Tom'ssisters and Phronsie had gathered them under the direction of thegardeners in the early morning; and then--oh, best of all--Mrs. Selwynhad allowed her to give the finishing touches to them as they becamethe decoration for the feast.
And the little old earl called the large assemblage to order, and thevicar asked the grace, and the feast was begun!
And then one of the tenants found his feet, and leaning on his staff,he thanked the Earl of Cavendish for all his goodness, and he hopedthere would be many blessings in store for 'im and 'is, and sank on hisbench again, mopping his face with his big red handkerchief.
And then the little old earl responded in as pretty a speech as couldwell be imagined, in which he forgot nothing that he ought to say. Andthere were many "God bless 'ims!" to follow it, and then there werecries of "Master Tom, Master Tom," who appeared to be an immensefavourite; and the earl, well pleased, pulled him forward, saying, "Goahead, youngster, and give it to them."
And Tom, extremely red in the face, tried to duck away, but foundhimself instead in front of the longest table, with everybody lookingat him. And he mumbled out a few words and bobbed his head. And everyone was just as well pleased. And then they gave cheer on cheer for theearl, and as many more for his oldest grandson. And then the little oldearl raised his hand and said, "And now, my men, give a rousing goodone for my dear American friends!"
And didn't they do it!
And on the following morning, the old hall, with its towers and itswings, had only the memory of the happy week to sustain it.
* * * * *
Jasper ran up to Polly on the deck. "We ought to go," he said, "theorder has been given to leave the steamer."
"Yes, Polly," said Mother Fisher, "we must go, child."
"Give my love to dear Grandma Bascom," said Polly, for about thefiftieth time. "Oh, Mrs. Henderson, and don't forget to take over thenew cap just as soon as you can, will you?"
"I won't forget," promised the parson's wife.
"And take mine to my dear Mrs. Beebe," begged Phronsie, twitchinggently at Mrs. Henderson's sleeve, "and tell her I got pink ribbonbecause I know she loves that best."
"I won't forget," said Mrs. Henderson, again.
"Oh, and give the big handkerchief to my dear Mr. Beebe," saidPhronsie, "please, Mrs. Henderson, to tie his throat up in, because,you know, he says it gets so cold when he goes out."
"I'll remember every single thing," promised the parson's wife. "Don'tyou worry, children. Oh, how we hate to leave you, only we are going tosee our boys. We really are, Polly!" And her eyes shone.
"Polly! Polly!" called Jasper.
"All off who aren't going!" roared the order out again.
"Polly!" The little doctor seized one arm and Phronsie's hand. "Therenow, here you are!" and whisked them off, amid "good-by--good-by"--anda flutter of handkerchiefs.
"And give my love to dear Grandma Bascom," piped Phronsie, on the wharfby old Mr. King's side, as the big steamer slowly pushed from itsmoorings.
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