III
CLEM FORSYTHE
Phronsie sat on the stairs, halfway down the long flight. It was the samestaircase on which Jasper had found her, with Polly waiting patiently onthe lower step, when she first came to Grandpapa King's. Now she heldClorinda in her arms, tightly pressed to her bosom.
"I do wish," she said softly, "that I could see my poor little girl, I do."
Clorinda not replying, Phronsie smoothed down the pink gown.
"It wasn't very nice at that little girl's house"--and a troubledexpression swept over her face--"but the little girl was nice, and shehadn't any child."
Clorinda's countenance expressed no sorrow, but stared up at her motherunblinkingly. Phronsie bent over and dropped a kiss on the red lips.
"Maybe she'll come again some day, if I watch by the big gate."
"My goodness me!" Polly, running along the upper hall, peered over therailing. "What are you doing, Phronsie, sitting down in the middle of thestairs?"
"I'm thinking," said Phronsie, looking up.
"Well, I should say!" cried Polly, running down to sit beside her. "Oh,Pet, I've an invite for you." She seized Phronsie's hand and cuddled it inboth of her own. "It's perfectly splendid."
"What's an 'invite'?" asked Phronsie, coming slowly out of her thoughts, topeer into Polly's face.
"Oh, I forgot, Mamsie didn't want me to say that," said Polly, with alittle blush. "Well, it's an invitation, Pet, and to Miss Mary Taylor's, togo with us girls this afternoon to work on our fancy things for the fair.Only think of that, Phronsie Pepper!" And Polly threw her arms around thesmall figure, and hugged her, to the imminent danger of both falling downthe rest of the flight.
"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "we almost went over."
"Can I really go, Polly?" cried Phronsie, as soon as she could get herbreath, "when you all take your bags and work on things?" She set Clorindacarefully down on the stair above, and stood up to look into Polly's face.
"Yes, child. Take care, you'll tumble over backward," warned Polly, with arestraining hand. "And oh, Phronsie! I'm going to make you a little silkbag, and you can take your pin-cushion to work on."
This was such a height of bliss that it quite overcame Phronsie, and shesat down on her stair again to think it over. To have a little silk bag tohang on her arm to carry her work in, just as Polly and the other girls didwhen they went to each other's houses with their fancy work, was more thanshe ever imagined was coming to her till she got as big as they were. Andto put her "cushion-pin" in it, and go to Miss Mary Taylor's with them all,sent her into such a dream of delight that she sat quite still, her handsin her lap.
"Don't you like it, Pet?" cried Polly, disappointed at her silence.
Phronsie drew a long breath, then stood up and began to hop up and down onher stair.
"Oh, Polly," she cried, clapping her hands, "I'm going to have a littlesilk bag, I truly am, Polly, all my own--oh!"
"My goodness me, Phronsie!" cried Polly, seizing her arms, "you'll rolldown and break your neck, most likely."
"And I'll take my cushion-pin"--Phronsie leaned over and put her face closeto Polly's cheek--"and I'll sew on it for the poor children, I will," andshe began to hop up and down again.
"Take care, and stop dancing," laughed Polly.
"And it shall be a pink bag," said Phronsie, dreadfully excited; "make it apink bag, do, Polly."
"Oh, I don't know that I can do that," said Polly slowly, "because you knowI took my piece of pink ribbon Auntie gave me, for that sachet case I'mmaking for the fair. But never mind, child"--as she saw a sorry littledroop to Phronsie's mouth--"I'll find another somewhere, and it will benice, even if it isn't pink."
"It will be nice," echoed Phronsie confidently, as long as Polly said so,and she clasped her hands.
"And come on, Pet, we'll go and find the ribbon and make the bag now, so asto be all ready." Polly flew up from her stair. "Pick up your doll, andgive me your hand. Here we are!"--as they ran up to the top.
"I very much wish you wouldn't call her my doll," panted Phronsie, as theyreached the last step; "she's my child, Polly."
"I know; I won't forget," laughed Polly. "Now, says I, Phronsie, for mypiece-box!"
The invitation of Miss Mary Taylor to all the girls who were getting up thefair for the poor children's week, plunged them into such a state ofexcitement that those who had been lagging over their fancy work nowspirited up on it, or ran down-street to get more materials and begin anew.One of these was Clem Forsythe.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Polly, looking up from the floor of her room, wherePhronsie and she had thrown themselves, the piece-box of ribbons betweenthem, "here comes Clem up the drive; now I 'most know she wants me to helpher on that sofa-pillow," and she twitched a square of yellow silk into atighter tangle. "How in the world did that spool get in here?" sheexclaimed, in vexation.
"I'll get it out, let me," begged Phronsie, dropping a fascinating bunch ofgay ribbons she was sorting in the hope of finding a pink one.
"Oh, you can't, child," cried Polly, her impatient fingers making sad workof the snarl. "There, I'll break the old thing, there's no other way"--asClem ran over the stairs and into the room.
"Oh, I'm so glad to find you!" panted Clem. "Dear me! what _are_ youdoing?" And not waiting for an answer, she plunged on: "I stopped atAlexia's--thought you might be there. And she's just as mad as can bebecause I was coming over here for you. You see, her aunt has something forher to do this morning. I'm tickled to death that for once I got ahead ofher. Whew! I'm so hot! I ran every step of the way." She threw herself downon the floor beside the two. "My, what a sight of ribbons, Polly Pepper!"
"I'm going to have a silk bag, Clem," confided Phronsie, dropping thelittle bunch of ribbons in her lap, to lean over to look into the tallgirl's face, "and I'm going to take my cushion-pin in it."
"Are you, really?" said Clem. "Oh, Polly, you see, I want you to----"
"Yes, I am." Phronsie nodded her yellow head. "Polly is going to make itright now, she is."
"Is she? Oh, dear!" Clem gave a groan. "Oh, Polly, I did want you to----"
"You see, I promised her this," Polly was guilty of interrupting. "She'sbeen invited to Miss Mary's this afternoon with us girls, and she wants asilk bag to carry her work in, too, the same as we big girls have, don'tyou, Pet?" Polly stopped long enough in the final tussle with the snarl toset a kiss on Phronsie's round cheek.
"Yes, I do, Polly," laughed Phronsie, with a wriggle of delight, "and I'mgoing to carry my cushion-pin in it, I am."
"So you see I can't help you on your sofa-pillow, Clem," said Pollyhurriedly, feeling dreadfully ashamed to have to say no.
"Oh, I don't want any help on it," said Clem; "I finished that old thing,Polly."
"Finished your sofa-pillow, Clem!" Polly dropped her snarl in her lap."Why, how could you?--and you hadn't the dog worked, except one leg, andnone of the filling in."
"Oh, I don't mean I finished it in that way," said Clem carelessly. "I meanI'm done with it forever. I just hate that old dog, Polly, and so I gavethe whole thing to our second girl, and she's going to work it forChristmas and send it to her mother."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "and now you won't give anything to the fair,"and her mouth drooped sorrowfully.
"Oh, yes, I will, too," declared Clem cheerfully; "I'll give something tentimes better than that old dog sitting up on a cushion. And nobody wouldhave bought it when it was done, except my mother--I'd made her--so what'sthe use of finishing it? Anyway, I've given it to Bridget; and now I'mgoing to make the most elegant thing--you can't guess, Polly Pepper."
"What is it?" cried Polly, with sparkling eyes.
"Oh, that's telling," said Clem, in a tantalizing way. "You must guess."
"Polly," said Phronsie, with a gentle little twitch on her arm, "can youfind any pink ribbon?"
"Yes, yes; I mean no, not yet," said Polly, in a preoccupied way, her eyeson Clem's face. "Oh, I can't guess; it might be anything, you know, Cle
m."
"But it isn't; I mean it's something," declared Clem, in great triumph."Oh, do hurry, you're so slow, Polly; it's too elegant for anything!"
Polly leaned her face in her hands, and her elbows on her knees. "Mm,mm--oh, I know!" She brought up suddenly, nearly overthrowing Phronsie, whohad bent anxiously over her. "Take care, Pet, I came near bumping yournose. It's a workbag."
"A workbag!" exclaimed Clem, in great scorn. "Well, I guess not, PollyPepper. What I'm going to make is ever so much better than an old workbag.Guess again."
At the mention of the workbag, Phronsie had gently pulled Polly's arm. ButPolly was too deep in thought to notice, and she wrinkled her brows, andbent her head again in her hands. What could it possibly be that Clem wasto make?
"Well, I think it is a sachet bag, then," she said at last.
"An old sachet bag, when all the girls are making oceans of 'em! I shouldthink you'd be perfectly ashamed, Polly Pepper, to sit there and guess suchthings. I'm going to make a most beautiful, embroidered handkerchief case,with little violets all----"
"Why, you can't, Clem Forsythe!" Polly flew to her feet, sending the ribbonbox flying, and nearly oversetting Phronsie. "You ought not to do any suchthing," she ran on passionately, a little red spot coming on either cheek,"when you know it'll be just like mine. It would be too mean for anything."
"It won't be just like it," said Clem, twisting uncomfortably, and notlooking up into Polly's face, "for mine is to be a wreath, and yours is abunch."
"But it'll be the same thing," cried Polly, too angry to think what she wassaying, "and you're perfectly mean and hateful to copy mine."
"Polly," cried Phronsie, in a distressed little voice. She had gotten up toher feet, and now hurried over to hold Polly's gown. "Oh, don't, Polly,don't!"
"Go away," commanded Polly, angrily twitching her gown free; "you don'tknow what you are doing, Phronsie, to stop me. She's gone and chosen thevery thing I thought of all by myself."
"I guess there are other violet handkerchief cases in the shops," said Clemcoldly. She was getting over her uncomfortable fit, and now she sprang toher feet. "And I think you are mean and stingy, too, Polly Pepper"--shetossed her head high in the air--"to expect to keep all the best things toyourself, and we're all working ourselves most to death over this old fair.And I did come to ask you to go down-town with me to buy my materials.Mother's given me five dollars to spend just as I like--but I shan't askyou now, so there!" She gave her head another toss, and walked off towardthe door.
Phronsie deserted Polly and ran on unsteady little feet after her.
"Polly isn't mean and stingy," she quavered; "she couldn't be."
Clem looked down at her, and little uncomfortable thrills ran all over her.
"Well, anyway, she's mad at me," she said, with great decision.
"Oh, no, Polly isn't mad," declared Phronsie. She clasped her hands, andswallowed very hard to keep the tears back, but two big drops escaped androlled down her cheeks. When Clem saw those, she turned away.
"Well, anyway, I'm going down-street by myself," she said, without abackward glance at Polly, and off she went.
"And if she thinks I'm going with her, or care what she does, after this,"cried Polly, magnificently, with her head in the air, "she'll make amistake."
"Polly, Polly!" The tears were rolling fast now, and Phronsie couldscarcely see to stumble back across the room to her side.
"And you don't know anything about it, child. To think of making a violethandkerchief case, and mine is almost done, and none of the girls wouldcopy mine! And Jasper drew the flowers on purpose." She was going on sofast now that she couldn't stop herself.
"Mamsie wouldn't like it," wailed Phronsie, clear gone in distress now, andhiding her face in Polly's gown.
"Mamsie would say--" began Polly decidedly. Then she stopped suddenly. "Oh,what have I said!" she cried. "Oh, what can I do!" She clasped her handstightly together. She was now in as much distress as Phronsie, and, seeingthis, Phronsie came out of her tears at once.
"You might run after her," she said. "Oh, Polly, do."
"She won't speak to me," said Polly, with a little shiver, and covering hereyes. "Oh, dear, dear, how could I!"
"Yes, she will, I do believe," said Phronsie, putting down a terriblefeeling at her throat. Not speak to Polly?--such a thing could never be!"Do run after her, Polly," she begged.
Polly took down her hands and went off with wavering steps to the door.
"I'll get your hat," cried Phronsie, running to the closet.
But Polly, once having decided to make the attempt at a reconciliation, wasoff, her brown braids flying back of her in the wind.