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"I don't know what you mean by that," said Mrs. Durgin, rising and resuming her self-control; she did not refuse herself a grim smile. "But I guess she thought it was pretty perfect herself or she will, when she's able to give her mind to it. I'm sorry for her daughter; I never had anything against her; or her mother, either, for that matter, before. Franky look after you pretty well?
There is always something depressing about the parlor of an "institution" of any kind, and I could not help feeling sorry for Armstrong, as I waited for him, seated on a sofa covered with faded rep. At length the door of an inner room opened, and the principal of the Pestalozzian Institute waddled across the floor with his hand held out, crying: "Franky Polisson, how are you?"
"Well?" questioned Bessie, as she entered, her eyes glittering with eagerness. "He wanted me to go for a drive. I would not go. He has taken Franky." "Franky, in his old school suit, and without having his collar changed?" Emily, lurking around, to hear the result of this short interview on the doorstep, was also horrified to think of the disgrace brought on the family by the condition of Franky.
Least said soonest mended," the boarder declared. He had never openly stood as Deleah's champion before. "I'm on Deda's side too," Franky said. "Deda's got the most on her side. C'n I have another piece of tart, ma?" "No, you can't," said Bessie promptly. "Mama, Franky cried out in his sleep the last time he had two pieces of tart." "C'n I have another piece of tart, ma?" Mrs.
Willy Spratt was the son of the cutler and his wife, across the way. Very good customers of Mrs. Day, very good people; but "You haven't spoken to Mrs. Potter, Franky," Deleah said to divert the child's mind. "You know Mrs. Potter, sir. Where are your manners?"
Her talk quick, rather hard and shy, yet friendly seemed to flourish on his silences, and about her there was something cool and virginal a maiden in a bower. At dinner, to which Halliday, who had swallowed too much sea-water, did not come, Sabina said: "I'm going to call you Frank." Freda echoed: "Frank, Frank, Franky." Ashurst grinned and bowed. "Every time Stella calls you Mr.
She turned her sad and patient eyes upon the street, thinking not of the cutler's over the way, with whose son Franky had formed such an undesirable friendship, nor of the passers by on the narrow pavement, nor of the tradesmen's carts rattling over the cobble stones; thinking of Bernard on his way to India and untold danger and privations, of Deleah and her dismissal from the school.
She had it on her mind that he lived among them, lonely and apart, and often anxiously she pondered in her own mind the question did poor Mr. Gibbon get his money's worth? "Deleah always chops the candied peel herself," Bessie explained. "She eats it, and feeds Franky on it. Mama, I should think Deda will soon take all the profit off your mincemeat if she eats the citron peel."
Even Franky looked up from his toast and marmalade with an inquiring glance. Perhaps the circus was coming, and there would be another procession, with elephants and camels walking through the streets, and unseen but loudly roaring lions dragged in their cages. "There is bad news, my dears," Mrs.
Franky chuckled again, and again whistled. Franky's chuckles and whistles were characteristic of him. He often disturbed the school in such fashion. Maria had a vision of a man in his shirt-sleeves, smoking beside a red-hot stove, on which boiled the meat and onions. She began at once upon her errand. "How do you do, Mrs. Ramsey?" said she.
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