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Pepper; "and she mustn't have any more; 'twill hurt her." But Phronsie fell into a delicious sleep after that, and didn't want any more, luckily. "Here, Joe," said Mrs. Pepper, the next morning, "take this coat up to Mr. Peterses; and be sure you get the money for it." "How'll I get it?" asked Joe, who didn't relish the long, hot walk. "Why, tell 'em we're sick Ben's sick," added Mrs.
And Polly must put the white satin boxes filled with wedding cake on the little table where one of the waiters would hand them to departing guests. And Phronsie must fasten Mamsie's pearl broach the gift of the five little Peppers in her lace collar the very last thing.
A little mouse scurried along the shelf and dropped to the floor. Phronsie peered into the darkness within, her small heart beating fearfully as she held the knob in her hand. "There may be more," she said irresolutely. "I suppose he wouldn't live up here all alone. Please go away, mousie, and let me get the box."
Spool can't run away again," smiled Phronsie through her tears, and leaning out of her little wooden chair to see Joel drop the spool in. "That's nice, Polly, isn't it? Now he can't run away again," she hummed. "Indeed, it is," sang Polly, delighted; "he's fast now, so fly at your snarl, Pet, Mamsie'll be so pleased to think you've picked out some of it."
"To come here and live!" cried Jasper, unable to keep still any longer and springing to the children. "Don't you want to, Joe?" "To live!" screamed Joel. "Oh whickety, yes! Do ma, do come here and live do!" "To live?" echoed Phronsie, over in the old gentleman's lap. "In this be-yew-ti-ful place? Oh, oh!" "Oh, mamsie!" that was all Polly could say.
"And I never should be happy in all this world to remember that I helped to make my Mamsie unhappy on her wedding day." Phronsie shivered, and her voice held a miserable little thrill as she begged, "Oh! make her be married just as she wants to be, Polly, do." "Now that's what I call mean," cried Joel in a loud, vindictive tone back of Polly, "to work on Phronsie's feelings.
Phronsie was toiling up and down the long, oak staircase the next morning; slowly going from one step to the other, drawing each little fat foot into place laboriously, but with a pleased expression on her face that only gave some small idea of the rapture within.
"I hear a noise," said Phronsie; and so they all whirled around in expectation. But it proved to be only a market wagon coming at a furious pace down the road, with somebody's belated dinner. So they all had to whirl back again as before. The consequence was that when the carriage did come, nobody heard it.
Tom wilted miserably under the gaze that still seemed to go through and through him, and Polly looked off at her side of the carriage, wishing the drive over the Tête Noire was all ended. Old Mr. King turned to Phronsie at his side. "Well, now," he said, taking her hand, "we are in a predicament, Phronsie, for it evidently isn't going to be such an overwhelming success as I thought."
"Yes," said Phronsie, "I've tied a big doll on it for you my very own self." Then she put her lips on the dark little cheek. "Now you must get down, for I have to talk to the children, and tell them all about things, and why they have a Christmas." But the little thing huddled up against Phronsie's waist-ribbons. "I'm the only one that's black," she said. "I want to stay here."
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