Five Little Peppers and their Friends Part 15

"Oh, that? It was a pretty large word to use to you, and that's a fact,"

said the old gentleman, with a little laugh. He was having rather a hard time of it to conceal his dismay at the blow to all the plans and preparations so finely in progress for the garden party. "Well, it means we must make the best of it all, and not fret."

"Oh!" said Phronsie. Then she turned back to her window again, and surveyed the driving storm.

"Perhaps the flowers like it," she said, after a pause, when nothing was heard but the beating of the rain against the gla.s.s; "maybe they are thirsty, Grandpapa."

"Yes, maybe," a.s.sented Grandpapa absently.

"And if G.o.d wants it to rain, why we must be glad, mustn't we, Grandpapa, if he really wants it?"

"Yes, yes, child," said the old gentleman hastily.

"Then I'm glad," said Phronsie, with a long sigh, and she clambered down from her chair, "and let's find Polly and tell her so, Grandpapa."

Over in the library there was a dismal group. Joel was fighting valiantly with a flood of tears, doubling up his little fists and glaring at Percy and Van at the least intimation of a remark to him. Little Davie had succ.u.mbed long ago, and now, crammed up in a small heap in the corner back of the sofa, was rivaling the storm outside, in the flood of tears he supplied.

Jasper crowded his hands in his pockets, marching up and down the long room. Polly, who was swallowing hard, as if her throat hurt her, wouldn't look at one of the boys. Little d.i.c.k was openly wailing in his mother's arms.

"Oh, shut up that, kid, will you?" cried Percy, crossly, over at him.

"Percy, Percy," said his mother gently.

"Well, he needn't boo-hoo like a baby," said Percy; "we've all got to give up the garden party."

"We can't have any garden party," mumbled little d.i.c.k between his sobs, and crying all over his mother's pretty blue silk waist.

"There, there, dear," Mrs. Whitney said soothingly, "we'll have it the next day, perhaps, d.i.c.ky boy."

"Next day is just forever," whimpered little d.i.c.k. "Oh, dear! boo-hoo-hoo!"

Percy started an impatient exclamation, thought better of it, and turned on his heel abruptly. But Van burst out:

"And the flowers'll all be gone, so what's the use of trying to have it then?"

"They won't," cried Joel, in an angry scream, and squaring round at him.

"They shan't, so there, Van Whitney!" When the door opened and in walked Mr. King, and Phronsie clinging to his hand.

"Oh, hush, boys!" cried Polly hoa.r.s.ely, a wave of shame rising in a rosy flush up to her brow. Oh, why hadn't she tried to keep cheerful instead of giving way to the general gloom? And now here were Phronsie and dear Grandpapa, who had ordered "just oceans of flowers" and everything else.

Oh, dear, how naughty she had been! She sprang away from the big, carved table, over to take Phronsie's hand.

"The flowers are thirsty, Polly, I guess," said Phronsie, looking up at her with a smile; "and when they drink all they want to, why, we'll have the party, won't we, Polly?"

"Yes," said Polly, the flush not dying down.

"Then that'll be nice, I think," said Phronsie, smoothing down her gown in satisfaction, "and I can finish my cus.h.i.+on-pin now"; for there was one little corner still untraveled by the remarkable design observed by the worker. But Mr. Hamilton Dyce had protested he didn't care for any such trifling deficiency, for he could put more pins in that quarter, so he should still be its purchaser.

"So you can," cried Polly, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, and winking furiously over at the boys.

"And we can write more letters," cried Jasper suddenly, springing over to Phronsie's side.

"Phoo!" exclaimed Joel, "we've got bushels already."

"Well, it's nice to have more yet," retorted Jasper, "so you better keep still, old fellow."

"I shall write some more," announced Van, with great pomposity, strutting up and down the room.

"Hoh-hoh!" laughed Joel, snapping his fingers in derision, "you haven't finished one yet, and beside, who can read your chicken tracks?"

"I have, too," declared Van, very red in the face, ignoring the reflection on his writing and plunging over to Jasper. "Haven't I, Jasper, written a letter for the post office? Say, haven't I?"--gripping him by the jacket-sleeve.

"Yes, you have," said Jasper. "He handed it in this afternoon," he added, nodding to the group.

"There, you see." Van rushed triumphantly up in front of Joel. "You see, Joel Pepper, so you've just got to take that back."

"Well, only one," said Joel, "and there can't any one read it, so that's no good."

"And I wrote some letters," cried Phronsie, running away from the little circle to thrust her face in between the two boys. "I did, all by myself.

One, two, ten, I guess."

Little d.i.c.k at that stopped sniveling, and slipped off from his mother's lap. "I did, too, write some, ten, three, 'leven, just as many as you did."

The tears trailed off from his red cheeks as he bobbed his head emphatically.

So no one heard quick steps along the hall, and the door being thrown wide by the butler, saying, "They're all in the library." In came Miss Mary Taylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce.

"We thought we'd drop in," said the gentleman, with a quick glance at Miss Mary, as if to say, "You see, they didn't need us after all, to help cheer up."

"Why, how very jolly you all are!" observed Miss Mary. The rain-drops were glistening on her hair and cheeks, where she had scampered away from the protecting umbrella at the foot of the steps. "Oh, I'm not wet, Mrs.

Fisher"--Mother Fisher at this moment coming in with her mending basket.

"I left my mackintosh in the hall."

"Well, well," exclaimed Mr. Hamilton Dyce. Joel had left sparring with Van and now swarmed around the newcomer, for he was extremely fond of him. "How are the letters coming on, Jasper? By the way, I've a few belated ones, in the pockets in my coat out in the hall. I'll get them."

"Let me--let me," screamed Joel.

"All right, go ahead. In both side pockets, Joe." He didn't consider it necessary to explain that Miss Taylor and he had been busy driving their pens all the afternoon.

"Whickets!" cried Joel, rus.h.i.+ng back, both hands overflowing, "what a lot!"

"Joel, what did you say?" Mother Fisher glanced up, the lines of worry that had settled over her face at the terrible disappointment that had befallen the family, disappearing, now that the usual cheeriness was coming back.

"I didn't mean to," said Joel, the color all over his chubby face, "but my, see what a lot! The post office won't hold 'em all!"

"We'll put them with the others," cried Jasper, "and thank you, oh, so much, Mr. Dyce; we can't have too many. Come on, all of you, and see our pile"--running out into the hall, headed for his den.

"You must thank Miss Mary," said Mr. Dyce.

But Miss Mary laughingly protesting the grat.i.tude was not so much due to her, the whole company filed out after Jasper in great good spirits.