XVI
WHERE IS PHRONSIE?
Phronsie shut the door of the lumber-room, and with a great sighrealized that she had with her own hand cut herself off from the gaylife below stairs.
"But they are not so very far off," she said, "and I shall soon be downagain," as she made her way across the room and opened the closet door.
A little mouse scurried along the shelf and dropped to the floor.Phronsie peered into the darkness within, her small heart beatingfearfully as she held the knob in her hand.
"There may be more," she said irresolutely. "I suppose he wouldn't liveup here all alone. Please go away, mousie, and let me get the box."
For answer there was a scratching and nibbling down in the corner thatheld more terrors for the anxious ears than an invading army.
"I must go in," said Phronsie, "and bring out the box. Please, goodmouse, go away for one moment; then you may come back and stay all day."
But the shadowy corner only gave back the renewed efforts of the sharplittle teeth; so at last, Phronsie, plucking up courage, stepped in.The door swung to after her, giving out a little click, unnoticed inher trepidation as she picked her way carefully along, holding her redgown away from any chance nibbles. It was a low narrow closet,unlighted save by a narrow latticed window, in the ceiling, for themost part filled with two lines of shelves running along the side andone end. Phronsie caught her breath as she went in, the air was soconfined; and stumbling over in the dim light, put her hand on the boxdesired, a small black affair, easily found, as it was the only onethere.
"I will take it out into the lumber-room; then I can get the velvetroll," and gathering it up within her arms, she speedily made her wayback to the door.
"Why"--another pull at the knob; but with the same result, andPhronsie, setting the box on the floor, still with thoughts only of themouse, put both hands to the task of opening the door.
"It sticks, I suppose, because no one comes up here only once in agreat while," she said in a puzzled way. "I ought to be able to pull itopen, I'm sure, for I am so big and strong." She exerted all herstrength till her face was like a rose. The door was fast. Phronsieturned a despairing look upon the shadowy corner.
"Please don't bite me," she said, the large tears gathering in herbrown eyes. "I am locked in here in your house; but I didn't want tocome, and I won't do anything to hurt you if you'll let me sit down andwait till somebody comes to let me out."
Meanwhile Mrs. Chatterton shook out her black satin gown complacently,and with a satisfied backward glance at the mirror, sailed off to herown apartments.
"Madame," exclaimed Hortense breathlessly, meeting her within the door,"de modiste will not send de gown; you must"--
"Will not send it?" repeated her mistress in a passion. "A prettymessage to deliver. Go back and get it at once."
"She say de drapery--de tournure all wrong, and she must try it onagain," said the maid, glad to be defiant, since the dressmakersupported her.
"What utter nonsense! Yet I suppose I must go, or the silly creaturewill have it ruined. Take off this gown, Hortense, and bring my walkingsuit, then ring and say I'd like to have Thomas take me down there atonce," and throwing off her bracelets, and the various buckles and pinsthat confined her laces, she rapidly disrobed and was expeditiouslyinducted by Hortense into her walking apparel, and, a parlor maidannouncing that Thomas with the coupe was at the door, she hurrieddownstairs, with no thought for anything beyond a hasty last charge toher maid.
"Where's Phronsie?" cried Polly, rushing into Mother Fisher's room; "Odear me, my hair won't stay straight," pushing the rebellious waves outof her eyes.
"It looks as if a brush wouldn't do it any harm," observed MotherFisher critically.
"O dear, dear! well, I've brushed and brushed, but it does no good,"said Polly, running over to the mirror; "some days, Mamsie, no matterwhat I do, it flies all ways."
"Good work tells generally," said her mother, pausing on her way to thecloset for a closer inspection of her and her head; "you haven't takenas much pains, Polly, lately with your hair; that is the trouble."
"Well, I'm always in such a hurry," mourned Polly, brushing furiouslyon the refractory locks. "There, will you stay down?" to a particularlyrebellious wave.
"One at a time is the best way to take things," said Mrs. Fisher dryly."When you dress yourself, Polly, I'd put my mind on that, if I wereyou."
With that, she disappeared within the closet.
"O dear, I suppose so," sighed Polly, left to her own reflections andbrushing away. "Well, that's the best I can make it look now, for Ican't do the braid over. Where is Phronsie, I wonder! Mamsie," shethrew down the brush and ran over to put her head in the closet, "wheredid she go?"
"I told her she might run over to Helen Fargo's, right afterbreakfast," said Mrs. Fisher, her head over a trunk, from which she wastaking summer dresses. "Polly, I think you'll get one more season'swear out of this pink cambric."
"Oh! I am so glad," cried Polly, "for I had such splendidly good timesin it," with a fond glance at the pink folds and ruffles. "Well, ifPhronsie is over at Helen's, there's no use in asking her to go downtown with us."
"Where are you going?" asked Mrs. Fisher, extricating one of Phronsie'swhite gowns from its winter imprisonment.
"Down to Candace's," said Polly. "Jasper wants some more pins for hiscabinet. No, I don't suppose Phronsie would tear herself away fromHelen for all the down-towns in the world."
"You would better let her stay where she is," advised Mother Fisher;"she hasn't been over to Helen's for quite a while, so it's a pity tocall her away," and she turned to her unpacking again, while Polly ranoff on the wings of the wind, in a tremor at having kept Jasper waitingso long.
"Candace" was the widow of an old colored servant of Mr. King's; shecalled herself a "relict;" that, and the pride in her little shop, madeher hold her turbaned head high in the air, while a perennial smileenwreathed her round face.
The shop was on Temple Place, a narrow extension thrown out from one ofthe city's thoroughfares. She was known for a few specialties; such asbig sugary doughnuts that appealed alike to old and young. They werealways fresh and sweet, with just the proper amount of spice to makethem toothsome; and she made holders of various descriptions, with themost elaborate patterns wrought always in yellow worsted; with severalother things that the ladies protested could never be found elsewhere.Jasper had been accustomed to run down to Candace's little shop, sincepinafore days, when he had been taken there by his nurse, and set upona high stool before the small counter, and plied with dainties by thedelighted Candace.
"The first thing I can remember," he had often told Polly, "is Candacetaking out huge red and white peppermint drops, from the big glass jarin the window, and telling me to hold out both hands."
And after the "pinafore days" were over, Candace was the boy's helperin all his sports where a woman's needle could stitch him out of anydifficulty. She it was who made the sails to his boats, and marvelousskate bags. She embroidered the most intricate of straps for hisschool-books, and once she horrified him completely by working in redcotton, large "J's" on two handkerchiefs. He stifled the horror when hesaw her delight in presenting the gift, and afterwards was careful toremember to carry a handkerchief occasionally when on an errand to theshop.
Latterly Candace was occupied in preparing pins for Jasper's cabinet,out of old needles that had lost their eyes. She cleverly put on redand black sealing wax heads, turning them out as round as the skillfulmanipulation of deft fingers could make them. In this new employment,the boy kept her well occupied, many half-dollars thereby finding theirway into her little till.
"I wish Phronsie had come," said Polly, as she and Jasper sorted thepins in the little wooden tray Candace kept for the purpose. "How manyred ones you will have, Jasper--see--fifteen; well, they're prettierthan the others."
"Ef little Miss had come wid you," said Candace, emerging from thefolds of a chintz curtain that divided the shop from the bed
room,"she'd 'a' seen my doll I made for her. Land! but it's a beauty."
"Oh, Candace!" exclaimed Polly, dropping the big pin she held, andallowing it to roll off the counter to the floor. "What a pity wedidn't bring her! Do let us see the doll."
"She's a perfec' beauty!" repeated Candace in satisfaction, "an' I donemade her all myself fer de little Miss," and she dodged behind thecurtain again, this time bringing out a large rag doll with surprisingblack bead eyes, a generous crop of wool on its head, and a red worstedmouth.
"Dat's my own hair," said Candace, pointing to the doll's head withpride, "so I know it's good; an' ain't dat mouf pretty?"
"Oh, Candace!" exclaimed Polly, seizing the doll, and skillfullyevading the question, "what a lovely dress--and the apron is a dear"--
"Ain't it?" said Candace, her black face aglow with delight. "Ole Missgimme dat yeller satin long ago, w'en I belonged to her befo' de war.An' dat yere apun was a piece of ole Miss's night-cap. She used to havesights of 'em, and dey was all ruffled like to kill, an' made o'tambour work."
Polly had already heard many times the story of Madame Carroll'snight-caps, so she returned to the subject of the doll's beauty as adesirable change.
"Do you want us to take this to Phronsie?" she asked. "Jasper, won'tshe be delighted?"
"Land, no!" cried Candace, recovering the doll in alarm; "I'd neversleep a week o' nights ef I didn't put dat yere doll into dat bressedchild's arms."
"Then I'll tell Phronsie to come over to-morrow," said Polly. "Shall I,Candace?"
"Yes," said Candace, "you tell her I got somefin' fer her; don't youtell her what, an' send her along."
"All right," said Jasper. "Just imagine Phronsie's eyes when she seesthat production. Candace, you've surpassed yourself."
"You go 'long!" exclaimed Candace, in delight, and bestowing a gentlepat of deprecation on his shoulder, "'tain't like what I could do; butla! well, you send de bressed chile along, and mabbe she'll like it."
"Jasper, we'll stop at Helen's now," said Polly as the two hurried bythe tall iron fence, that, lined with its thick hedge, shut out theFargo estate from vulgar eyes, "and get Phronsie; she'll be ready tocome home now; it's nearly luncheon time."
"All right," said Jasper; so the two ran over the carriage drive to aside door by which the King family always had entree.
"Is Phronsie ready to come home?" asked Polly of the maid. "Tell her tohurry and get her things on; we'll wait here. Oh, Jasper!" turning tohim, "why couldn't we have the club next week, Wednesday night?"
"Miss Mary," said the maid, interrupting, "what do you mean? I haven'tseen Miss Phronsie to-day."
Polly whirled around on the step and looked at her.
"Oh! she's upstairs in the nursery, playing with Helen, I suppose.Please ask her to hurry, Hannah."
"No, she isn't, Miss Mary," said Hannah. "I've been sweeping thenursery this morning; just got through." She pointed to her broom anddustpan that she had set in a convenient corner, as proof of herstatement.
"Well, she's with Helen somewhere," said Polly, a little impatiently.
"Yes; find Helen, and you have the two," broke in Jasper. "Just havethe goodness, Hannah, to produce Helen."
"Miss Helen isn't home," said Hannah. "She went to Greenpoint yesterdaywith Mrs. Fargo to spend Sunday."
"Why," exclaimed Polly in bewilderment, "Mamsie said she told Phronsieright after breakfast that she could come over here."
"She hasn't been here," said the maid positively. "I know for certainsure, Miss Mary. Has she, Jane?" appealing to another maid coming downthe hall.
"No," said Jane. "She hasn't been here for ever so many days."
"Phronsie played around outside probably," said Jasper quickly;"anyway, she's home now. Come on, Polly. She'll run out to meet us."
"Oh, Jasper! do you suppose she will?" cried Polly, unable to stifle anundefinable dread. She was running now on frightened feet, Jasperhaving hard work to keep up with her, and the two dashed through thelittle gate in the hedge where Phronsie was accustomed to let herselfthrough on the only walk she was ever allowed to take alone, and intothe house where Polly cried to the first person she met, "Where'sPhronsie?" to be met with what she dreaded, "Gone over to HelenFargo's."
And now there was indeed alarm through the big house. Not knowing whereto look, each fell in the other's way, quite as much concerned for Mr.King's well-being; for the old gentleman was reduced to such a state bythe fright that the entire household had all they could do to keep himin bounds.
"Madame is not to come home to luncheon," announced Hortense to Mrs.Whitney in the midst of the excitement. "She told me to tell you thatde Mees Taylor met her at de modiste, and took her home with her."
Mrs. Whitney made no reply, but raised her eyes swollen with muchcrying, to the maid's face.
"Hortense, run as quickly as possible down to Dr. Fisher's office, andtell him to come home."
"Thomas should be sent," said Hortense, with a toss of her head. "It'snot de work for me. Beside I am Madame's maid."
"Do you go at once," commanded Mrs. Whitney, with a light in her blueeyes that the maid never remembered seeing. She was even guilty ofstamping her pretty foot in the exigency, and Hortense slowly gatheredherself up.
"I will go, Madame," with the air of conferring a great favor, "only Ido not such t'ings again."