Five Little Peppers Grown Up

by Margaret Sidney

  CHAPTER I.

  POLLY GIVES MUSIC LESSONS.

  "Miss Pepper--Miss Pepper!"

  Polly turned quickly, it was such an anxious little cry.

  "What? Oh, Amy Loughead."

  Amy threw herself up against Polly's gown. "Oh, if I may," she began,flushing painfully. "You see my brother is coming to-morrow--I've aletter--so if you will let me."

  "Let you what?" cried Polly, with a little laugh; "go on, Amy, don't beafraid."

  "You see it is just this way," Amy twisted her fingers together, drewher breath hard, and rushed on nervously; "Jack--he's my brother, youknow--promised me--I never told you--if I would only learn to play onthe piano, he'd take me to Europe with him next time, and now he'scoming to-morrow, and--and, oh! what shall I do?"

  Amy was far gone now, and she ended with a little howl of distress, thatbrought two or three of the "Salisbury girls" flying in withastonishment.

  "Go back," said Polly to them all, and they ran off as suddenly as theyhad popped in, to leave Amy and the music teacher alone.

  "Now, Amy," said Polly kindly, getting down on her knees beside the girlwhere she had thrown herself on the broad lounge, "you must justunderstand, dear, that I cannot help you unless you will haveself-control and be a little woman yourself."

  "You told me I would be sorry if I didn't practice," mourned Amy,dragging her wet little handkerchief between her fingers, "but I didn'tsuppose Jack was coming for six months, and I'd have time to catch up,and now--oh dear me!" and she burrowed deeper into Miss Salisbury's bigsofa-pillow.

  "Take care!" warned Polly, with a ready hand to rescue the elaboratecombination of silk and floss, "it would be a very dreadful thing ifthis should get spoiled."

  Amy Loughead brought her wet cheek off suddenly. "There isn't a singletear on it, Miss Pepper," she gasped.

  "That's very fortunate," said Polly, with a relieved breath. "Well, Amychild, how can I help you?" She sat down now, and drew the girl's hotlittle hand within her own.

  "I can almost play that horrible 'Chopin,'" said Amy irrelevantly; "thatis, I could, if--oh Miss Pepper," she broke off suddenly and brought herflushed face very near to the one above her, "could you help me playit--just hear me, you know, and tell me things you did, over again,about it, if I practice all the afternoon? Could you?"

  "This evening, do you mean?" asked Polly, a trifle sharply.

  "Yes," said Amy faintly, and twisting her handkerchief. "Oh dear me, Iknow you're so tired. What shall I do?"

  "But you don't understand," cried Polly, vexed with herself that shecouldn't help her annoyance from being seen. "I shall put some one elseout if I give up my evening. I have an engagement, Amy. No, I don't seehow I can do it, child; I'm sorry." And then before she knew how, sheput both arms around the little figure. "Don't cry, dear, I suppose Imust. I'll get out of the other thing. Yes, fly at Chopin, and keep yourcourage up, and I'll be over at seven. Then to-morrow Brother Jack willsay 'How fine!' and off you'll go over the seas!"

  Outside, Polly, after enlisting Miss Salisbury's favor for the evening'splan, was hurrying along the pavement, calling herself an hundredfoolish names for helping an idle girl out of a scrape. "And to think oflosing the only chance to hear D'Albert," she mourned. "Well, it's donenow, and can't be helped. Even Jasper when he hears of it, will think mea silly, I suppose. Now to make my peace with Pickering."

  She turned down the avenue running out from the street that had thehonor to contain "Miss Salisbury's Boarding and Day School for YoungLadies," and met face to face, suddenly, a young man, about whose joy atmeeting her, there could be no doubt.

  "Oh, Polly!" he cried, "here, let me take that detestable thing!" tryingto get the music-roll out of her hand.

  "Take care how you talk against this," cried Polly, hugging it closer."Indeed you shall not touch it, till you are glad that I am a musicteacher. Oh, I must tell you--I was on my way to your house because Iwas afraid you wouldn't understand a note. I can't go to-night."

  "Can't go to-night?" repeated Pickering, in his astonishment forgettingall his manners. "Why, Polly Pepper, what do you mean?"

  "Why, I must give it up," cried Polly nervously; "don't ask me--orperhaps I ought to tell you, Pickering, then you'll see I can't helpmyself." And Polly rapidly unfolded her plan for the evening, omittingall details as to Amy's careless waste of her lessons despite allefforts to make her practice. At the end of the recital, Pickering Dodgecame to a full pause on the sidewalk, regardless of all passers-by, andturned a glowering face on Polly, who was forced to stand still also,and look at him.

  "What idiocy!" he exclaimed, "to give up D'Albert for that ignoramus!Polly, are you losing your senses?"

  "I don't know," said poor Polly, who had lost the first flush ofenthusiasm over her plan, and to whom nothing now seemed so delightfulas the sight and sound of D'Albert and his wonderful melody. "Well, it'sdone, so don't tempt me to feel badly, Pickering."

  "Indeed, and it's not done," said Pickering angrily; "you made theengagement, Polly. I never knew you to break one before," he addedstingingly.

  The tears flew into Polly's brown eyes, and every bit of color desertedher round cheek. "Don't call it that, Pickering," she implored, puttingout her hand.

  "I shall call it just what it is," declared Pickering, in his stiffestfashion. "It's a broken engagement, Polly Pepper, nothing more norless."

  "Then," said Polly, all her tears dried, "I must go with you, if youhold me to it." She raised her head, and looked him full in the eyes. "Iwill be ready," and she moved off with her most superb air, withoutdeigning a good-by.

  "WHY, POLLY PEPPER, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"]

  "Oh, Polly," cried Pickering, starting forward to overtake her, "seehere, if you very much wish it, why, of course, Polly--Polly, do lookaround!"

  "What do you wish to say?" asked Polly, not looking around as he gainedher side.

  "Why, of course," cried Pickering, his words stumbling over each other,"if you can't go, I'll--I'll give it up, and stay at home."

  "And why should you stay at home?" cried Polly, suddenly giving him aglimpse of her face; "you've lovely seats; do ask Alexia."

  "Alexia!" exclaimed Pickering angrily. "Indeed I will not. I don't wantany one if I can't have you, Polly." He was really miserable now, andneeded comfort, so she turned around and administered it as only Pollycould.

  By the time the talk was over, she hurried off with a radiant face, andPickering with an expression only one remove from that of absolutegloom, retraced his steps to lay one of "the lovely seats" for theD'Albert concert, before Miss Rhys, for her acceptance.

  Phronsie came slowly down the hall to meet Polly as usual; this day withone of her company white gowns on. Polly always knew when these weredonned that something unusual was to be expected from the daily routineof the household.

  "Are you really and truly home, Polly?" asked Phronsie, taking themusic-roll to tuck it under her own arm.

  "Yes, Pet;" Polly set a kiss on the red lips. "And I am as hungry as abeaver, Phronsie."

  "So you must be," said Phronsie, with a little sigh, "for you were solong in coming home. Well, do hurry now, Polly." This last as Polly wasskipping over the stairs to her own room to freshen up a bit. ThenPhronsie turned into the dining-room to be quite sure that the butlerhad made the belated luncheon as fine as Polly could desire it.

  "She didn't ask why I had on this gown," mused Phronsie, softlydisposing again the flowers at Polly's plate, "and it's funny, I think,for Polly always sees everything;" and she began to look troubled atonce.

  PHRONSIE CAME SLOWLY DOWN THE HALL.]

  "This is just as splendid as it can be," cried Polly, coming in, andpicking up one of the roses at her plate. "Phronsie, you are just a dearto have everything so nice," and she fastened it at her belt. "Why, dearme! You've a fine gown on! What is going to happen?"

  "And you didn't see it," said Phronsie, a bit reproachfully, as shegently smoothed the front breadth of mull.

  "Forgive me, d
ear," begged Polly. "Well, what is it, Pet? Do tell me;for I'm dying of curiosity, as the Salisbury girls say."

  Phronsie stood up on tiptoe, and achieved Polly's ear.

  "Who do you think is coming to-night?" she whispered impressively.

  "To-night? Oh, dear me! I can't possibly guess," said Polly, beginningto think that this one evening of all the year held supreme moments forher. "Who is it, Phronsie? do tell me quickly."

  "Well," said Phronsie, drawing off to see the surprised delight sure tocome on Polly's face, "it's Jasper himself."

  "Not Jasper?" exclaimed Polly, quite gone with joy. "Oh, PhronsiePepper, you can't mean that?"

  "But I do," said Phronsie, forgetting her age, to hop up and down on therug, "we've a letter while you were at the school, and I wasn't to tellyou suddenly, so I put on one of my nice gowns, so you would know."

  "But how could I possibly suppose that Jasper would come now," criedPolly, seizing Phronsie's hands to execute one of the old-time dances."Now I almost know he is going to stay over Christmas."

  "He is--he is!" cried Phronsie in a little scream; "you've guessed it,Polly. And Mamsie said--she's gone down town with Grandpapa; he's goingto get tickets for the concert to-night, so that you can all gotogether, even if you can't sit together, and she said that"--

  "Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly in dismay and she stood quite still.

  "Aren't you glad?" asked Phronsie, her joy suddenly hushed.

  "And I've done it myself--spoiled all this loveliness," cried Pollypassionately, little white lines coming around her mouth, "and Jasperhere!"

  "Oh, Polly, Polly!" Phronsie clasped her gown imploringly, "don't,Polly."

  "I just won't go to the school," declared Polly at white heat; "I don'tcare for the concert, but I'll send a note over to say that I amdetained at home."

  "What is it, Polly?" begged Phronsie, all sorts of dreadful surmisesseizing her, "do tell me, Polly, won't you?"

  "It's--nothing; you wouldn't understand, child," said Polly quickly."There, don't ask."

  Phronsie crept away in a grieved fashion, to be presently folded intoPolly's warm arms. "I'm bad to-day, Phronsie dear. There, Pet, now youare all right, aren't you?" as she hugged her close.

  "I am, if you are, Polly," said Phronsie doubtfully.

  "Well, I'm all right now," said Polly, her brow clearing; "the bad hasgone at last, I hope, to stay away, Phronsie. Now I must hurry and eatthis nice luncheon you've fixed for me;" and she sprang toward thetable.

  "Don't you want to write a note first?" asked Phronsie, wondering atPolly's strange mood, and following her to the table-edge, "you saidso."

  "No; I've given it up," said Polly, sitting down and beginning on herchop and toast. "Bless you, dear, you've given me an orchid," glancingdown between her mouthfuls to the bouquet at her plate; "you should havesaved them all for Jasper."

  "Turner said I might have it," said Phronsie triumphantly, "and I knewyou'd give it to Jasper, so it's all right."

  "It surely shall do double duty," said Polly merrily, with a tenderglance for the orchid. "Well, how's Baby?"

  "He is very nice," said Phronsie, with a grown-up air, "and didn't cry abit for Mamsie. And now if you are really all right, Polly, I'll go upto the nursery and look at him."

  "So I would," said Polly approvingly. "Yes, I'm all right; see, I'm onmy chop No. 2."

  Phronsie smiled with great satisfaction at this, and went off. At aquarter of seven, Polly, in a storm of remonstrance from all but one,hurried off to help poor Amy Loughead through her Slough of Despond.

  Jasper alone, just arrived for dinner, was the only one who remainedsilent when the storm of disapproval broke forth over Polly and herdoings. After the first astonished exclamation, he had absolutelyrefused to say anything save "Polly knows best."

  "I don't know how to thank you," said Polly out in the wide hall, wherehe hurried to meet her, as she ran downstairs with her plainest walkingthings on, "for I don't believe they would have let me go. I never sawMamsie feel so, Jasper." And now Polly could not keep the tears back.

  "She'll see it all right to-morrow," said Jasper soothingly.

  He put his hand out and grasped hers, as in the old days in the littlebrown house, and Polly answered through her tears, "I know, Jasper."

  And then the maid appearing, who was to accompany her to MissSalisbury's, Polly came out from her tears, and said, "I'm ready,Barbara."

  "You are not needed, Barbara," said Jasper, reaching up for his top-coatfrom the oaken rack.

  "What are you going to do?" gasped Polly, her hand on the door-knob, andglancing back.

  "Walk over with you to that center of culture and wisdom," said Jaspercoolly, close beside her now, his hat in his hand.

  "O, Jasper!" exclaimed Polly in dismay, her face growing quite pale,"don't; you'll be late for the concert. Barbara, Barbara!" Polly lookedpast him to summon the departing maid.

  "Barbara is a good girl, and understands the duty of obedience," saidJasper laughingly. "There's no help for it, Polly; you must accept myescort," and he opened the door.

  "But Grandpapa! he will be terribly disappointed not to have you go tothe concert with him," cried Polly, getting down the steps with adreadful weight at her heart.

  "I made it all right with father," said Jasper, "as soon as I heard ofyour plan; and Mr. Alstyne is on his way over to take my place; at leasthe ought to be in response to my note. Don't worry, Polly; come."

  "Oh! what perfectly elegant seats," exclaimed Alexia Rhys, waving herbig ostrich fan contentedly, and sweeping the audience with a long gaze."Everybody is here to-night, Pickering."

  "That's not so," said Pickering savagely, and bestowing a thump on hisunoffending opera hat, already reduced to the smallest possible bulk.

  "Don't spoil it," advised Alexia coolly, with a sidelong gaze at hisface. "Well, of course I mean everybody except Polly; and I'm sure,Pickering, it isn't my fault that she didn't come; Polly always wasqueer about some things."

  Pickering did not answer, but bestowed his glance on the programme inhis hand.

  "And now she is queerer than ever," said Alexia, glad to think that thedainty blue affair on her head, she called a bonnet, was already doingits work, as she heard a lady in the seat back of them, question if itwere not one of the newest of Madame Marchaud's creations. So she satmore erect, and played nonchalantly with her fan. "Yes, and it's allbecause of those dreadfully horrid music lessons."

  Pickering coughed, and rattled his programme ominously, which Alexiapretended not to hear.

  "Why Mr. King lets her do it, I can't see," she went on.

  "Do stop," said Pickering shortly, and casting a nervous glance back ofher shoulder.

  "Never mind if they do hear," said Alexia sweetly, "all the better; thenthey'll know we don't approve of her doing so, at any rate."

  "I do approve," said Pickering, his face flaming, "if she wants to; andwe've got to, any way, because we can't help ourselves. I do wish,Alexia, you wouldn't discuss our friends in this public way."

  "And I don't think it is a very sweet thing to invite a girl to aconcert, and then get up a fight," said Alexia, back at him.

  "Goodness--who's fighting?" exclaimed Pickering under his breath.

  "You are--I wish you could see your face; it's as black as a thundercloud," said Alexia, with the consciousness that her own was as calm asa June morning. "And I'm sure if you don't want to attract people to ourconversation, you might at least look a little pleasanter."

  Pickering threw two or three nervous glances on either side, to proveher words, and was by no means reassured to see the countenance of BillyHarlow, one of his young business friends, across the aisle, suffusedwith an attempt to appear as if he hadn't been a witness to the littleby-play.

  "Well, I'm morally certain I won't trouble you with another invitationto a concert," he said, too furious to quite know his own words.

  "You needn't," said Alexia, swinging her fan with an even hand, andstill smiling sweetl
y, this time including in it Billy, who had no girlwith him. "I really could endure life at home better than this bliss."And then D'Albert came on the stage, and it was the proper thing to keepquiet, so the hostilities died down.

  Going out of the Opera House, Billy Harlow ran up to the two. "Lovelytime you've had," he said on Alexia's side, and with a little grimace.

  "Haven't I?" said Alexia back again, with the air of a martyr. Pickeringstalking along by her side, had the air of a man who didn't care whatwas being said about him.

  "Just look at him now," said Alexia softly, "isn't he sweet? And fancymy bearing it for two hours. I don't think any other girl in our set,could."

  "Why didn't Miss Pepper come this evening?" asked Mr. Harlow curiously;"Pickering said he'd asked her."

  "Oh! she gave it up to help some girl," said Alexia carelessly. "She'sthe music teacher at Miss Salisbury's school, you know."

  "Oh! is she?" asked Mr. Harlow innocently, forgetting to mention thedaily interviews he sustained with his sisters Kitty and Grace who were"Salisbury girls," on Miss Pepper's movements.

  "And at the last minute he asked me to take her place," said Alexia withperfect frankness, "and I was goose enough to do it."

  "Isn't Miss Pepper going to give a Recital pretty soon?" asked Mr.Harlow, incidentally, as they worked their way along to the entrance.

  "Yes, she is," said Alexia sharply, "at the Exeter--we can't stop her;she says she's proud to do it, and it shows the girls' wonderfulability; and all that sort of thing--and--and--oh dear me! after she'sonce done that, she'll always be 'Miss Pepper the music teacher.' Isn'tit horrid!"

  "I believe that is our carriage," said Pickering stiffly, and without somuch as a half-glance at Billy. "Come, Alexia."