Five Little Peppers Midway Part 33

"Never?" cried Phronsie, straining to get up further into Polly's arms.

"No dear; I'll hold you close just as long as you need me."

"And he won't come again?"

"He can't Phronsie; because, you see, I have you now."

"And the door will open, and I'll have Mamsie and dear Grandpapa?"

"Yes, yes, my precious one," began Mr. King, getting out of the large arm-chair into which they had persuaded him.

"Don't do it. Stay where you are," said Dr. Fisher, stopping him half-way across the room.

"But Phronsie wants me; she said so," exclaimed old Mr. King hoa.r.s.ely, and trying to push his way past the doctor. "Why, man, don't stop me."

Dr. Fisher planted his small body firmly in front of the old gentleman.

"You must obey me."

Obey? When had Mr. King heard that word addressed to himself. He drew a long breath, looked full into the spectacled eyes, then said, "All right, Fisher; I suppose you know best," and went back to his arm-chair.

"I'm so tired, Polly," Phronsie was saying, and the arms, Polly could feel, were dropping slowly from her neck.

"Are you, Pet? Well, now, I'll tell you what we'll do. Let us both go to sleep. There, Phronsie, now you put your arms down, so"--Polly gave them a swift little tuck under the bed-clothes--"and I'll get up beside you, so"--and she crept on to the bed--"and we'll both go right to 'nid-nid-nodland,' don't you know?"

"You're sure you won't let me go?" whispered Phronsie, cuddling close, and feeling for Polly's neck again.

"Oh! just as sure as I can be," declared Polly cheerfully, while the tears rained down her cheek in the darkness.

"I feel something wet," said Phronsie, drawing back one hand. "What is it, Polly?"

"Oh! that," said Polly with a start. "Oh--well, it's--well, I'm crying, Phronsie; but I'm so glad--oh! you don't know how glad I am, sweet,"

and she leaned over and kissed her.

"If you're glad," said Phronsie weakly, "I don't care. But please don't cry if you are not glad, Polly."

"Well, now we're fixed," said Polly as gaily as she could. "Give me your hand, Pet. There, now, good-night."

"Good-night," said Phronsie. Polly could feel her tucking the other hand under her cheek on the pillow, and then, blessed sound--the long quiet breathing that told of rest.

"Oh! better, is she?" Mrs. Chatterton looked up quickly to see Mrs.

Whitney's pale face. "Well, I supposed she would be. I thought I'd sit here and wait to know, since you were all so frightened. But I knew it wouldn't amount to much. Now, girl," nodding over to the maid still in the corner, "you may get me to bed." And she stretched her stiff limbs, and held out her hand imperatively.

"It was very fortunate that I did not tell," she said, when the slow pa.s.sage to her own apartments had been achieved. "Now if the child will only keep still, all will be well."

XVIII

THE GIRLS HAVE POLLY AGAIN

"Phronsie shall have a baked apple this morning," said Mother Fisher, coming into the sunny room where Phronsie lay propped up against the pillows.

"Did Papa-Doctor say so?" asked Phronsie, a smile of supreme content spreading over her wan little face.

"Yes, he did," said her mother; "as nice an apple, red and s.h.i.+ny as we could find, is downstairs baking for you, Phronsie. When it's done, Sarah is to bring it up."

"That will be very nice," breathed Phronsie slowly. "And I want my little tea-set--just the two cups and saucers--and my own little pot and sugar-bowl. Do let me, Mamsie, and you shall have a cup of milk with me," she cried, a little pink color stealing into either cheek.

"Yes, yes, child," said Mother Fisher. "There, you mustn't try to lean forward. I'll bring the little table Grandpapa bought, so;" she hurried over across the room and wheeled it into place. "Now isn't that fine, Phronsie?" as the long wing swung over the bed. "Did you ever see such a tea-party as you and I'll have?"

"Breakfast party, Mamsie!" hummed Phronsie; "isn't that just lovely?"

wriggling her toes under the bed-clothes. "Do you think Sarah'll ever bring that apple?"

"Yes, indeed--why, here she is now!" announced Mrs. Fisher cheerily.

"Come in, Sarah," as a rap sounded on the door. "Our little girl is all ready for that good apple. My! what a fine one."

"Bless honey's heart!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sarah, her black face s.h.i.+ning with delight. "Ain't he a beauty, though?" setting down on the table-wing a pink plate in the midst of which reposed an apple whose crackling skin disclosed a toothsome interior. "I bring a pink sa.s.ser so's to match his insides. But ain't he rich, though!"

"Sarah," said Phronsie, with hungry eyes on the apple, "I think he is very nice indeed, and I do thank you for bringing him."

"Bless her precious heart!" cried Sarah, her hands on her ample hips, and her mouth extended in the broadest of smiles.

"Do get me a spoon, Mamsie," begged Phronsie, unable to take her gaze from the apple. "I'm so glad he has a stem on, Sarah," carefully picking at it.

"Well, there," said Sarah, "I had the greatest work to save that stem.

But, la! I wouldn't 'a' brung one without a stem. I know'd you'd want it to hold it up by, when you'd eat the most off."

"Yes, I do," said Phronsie, in great satisfaction fondling the stem.

"And here's your spoon," said her mother, bringing it. "Now, child, enjoy it to your heart's content."

Phronsie set the spoon within the cracked skin, and drew it out half-full. "Oh, Mamsie!" she cried, as her teeth closed over it, "do just taste; it's so good!"

"Hee-hee!" laughed Sarah, "I guess 'tis. Such works as I had to bake dat apple just right. But he's a beauty, ain't he, though?"

Phronsie did not reply, being just at that moment engaged in conveying a morsel as much like her own as possible, to her mother's mouth.

"Seems to me I never tasted such an apple," said Mother Fisher, slowly swallowing the bit.

"Did you, now?" cried Sarah.

Downstairs Polly was dancing around the music-room with three or four girls who had dropped in on their way from school.

"Give me a waltz now, Polly," begged Philena. "Dear me, I haven't had a sight of you hardly, for so long, I am positively starved for you. I don't care for you other girls now," she cried, as the two went whirling down the long room together.

"Thank you, Miss Philena," cried the others, seizing their partners and whirling off too.