V
"SHE'S MY LITTLE GIRL"
"Oh, I do wish, Polly," cried Phronsie, as they ran along the hollyhockpath, "that my poor little girl could go to the country. Can't she, Polly?"she asked anxiously.
"Oh, yes, of course," assented Polly, her mind on the garden party, nowonly three days ahead. "Phronsie, how perfectly elegant those roses aregoing to be!"--pointing off to the old-fashioned varieties bloomingriotously.
"Oh, Polly!" Phronsie stood still a moment in silent bliss, then hopped upand down the narrow path. "I'm so glad she can go! Oh, Polly, I'm so_very_ glad!"
"Who?" cried Polly, in perplexity.
"My little girl, my poor little girl," said Phronsie, hopping away.
"Oh, of course." Polly gave a little laugh. "Well, there are lots of poorlittle girls who will go, Phronsie," she said, in great satisfaction,"because, you know, we're going to make a great deal of money, I expect.Why, Grandpapa has told Thomas to buy ever so many flowers. Just think,child, and the oceans we have here!" She waved her hands over to take innot only the old-fashioned garden where they stood, but the smartflower-beds beyond, the pride and joy of the gardeners. "Oh, yes, therewill be ever so many children who will be happy in the country in thesummer."
"And my poor little girl," persisted Phronsie gleefully, "she will behappy, Polly. Oh, let's go down to the big gate--p'raps she's therenow--and tell her. Please, Polly." She seized Polly's hand in greatexcitement.
Polly sank to her knees in delight over a little bed of daisies.
"I do think these are the very sweetest things, Phronsie Pepper," she said."See the cunning baby ones coming out."
"Please, Polly," begged Phronsie, clinging to her hand.
"Why, Phronsie!" Polly looked up in amazement. Not to pay attention to thebaby daisies was certainly astonishing, when Phronsie was always so raptover the new flowers. "What is it you want, child?"
"Please come down to the big gate, Polly," pleaded Phronsie, her lipquivering, for Polly was not usually so hard to understand.
"Yes, I will," said Polly, reluctantly tearing herself away from thefascinating daisies. "Now then, we'll go there right away; one, two, three,and away!"
"I guess--she'll--be--there," panted Phronsie, but she was running so fastto keep up with Polly's longer steps that her words died away on the air;and Polly, who dearly loved a race over the grass, was letting her mindtravel to the delights of the garden party, and what it was going toaccomplish, so she didn't hear.
At last there was the big gate.
"Dear me!" cried Polly, with a gay little laugh, "what a fine race! Nowonder you wanted me to try it with you! Why, Pet, have I run too fast?"She looked with remorse at the flushed little face.
"No," gasped Phronsie, "but oh, Polly, will you sit down on the grass?"
"To be sure I will," said Polly very remorsefully, "you're all tired out.There, let's come over here," and she led her over to the very tree underwhich Phronsie had fallen asleep. "Here's where I found you the other day,Phronsie, when you were so tired. Heigh-ho!" And Polly threw herself downon the grass, and drew Phronsie into her lap.
"P'raps she'll come," said Phronsie, and the sorrowful look began todisappear as she cuddled in Polly's arms. "Don't you believe she will,Polly?" She put her face close to Polly's to peer anxiously into her browneyes.
"Who, child?" asked Polly.
"The poor little girl--my poor little girl," exclaimed Phronsie.
"Oh, there isn't any little girl, at least any particular one," criedPolly. "We're going to send ever so many little girls into the country,Phronsie, but not any special one."
"Oh, yes, there is," contradicted Phronsie, her lip quivering again, and,despite all her efforts, the big tears began to course down her cheeks."She's my little girl, and I like her. Please let her go, Polly. And maybeshe'll come soon, if we only wait for her." It was a long speech, and bythe time it was all out, Phronsie had laid her head in Polly's neck, andwas sobbing as if her heart would break.
It was for this reason that Polly did not happen to look up across thegrass to the big gate, so of course she couldn't be expected to see whattook place there. And it was not until Phronsie had been persuaded to sitstraight and have her tears wiped away, because Mamsie wouldn't like tohave her cry, that any one guessed it at all. And in one instant Polly'slap was deserted, Phronsie was flying over the greensward, crying out:
"There she is--my poor little girl!"
It took but a moment for Polly's swift feet to follow, but none too soon,for the thin little face with the sharp, black eyes was withdrawn, and theflapping old shoes were beating a hasty retreat. But Polly was after her,and her hand was on her arm, and the first thing the stranger knew she wasdrawn within the big gateway, Phronsie circling around her with greatsatisfaction.
"She _did_ come, Polly, she did."
"Lemme be. I warn't doin' nothin' but peekin'," said the girl, trying towriggle away from Polly's grasp. But Polly held on.
"Don't be frightened; there isn't any one going to hurt you. What's yourname, little girl?"
"She's my little girl," insisted Phronsie, trying to get hold of the thinlittle hand, which was less grimy than usual.
"What's your name?" asked Polly again.
"Rag," said the girl, in a burst.
"Rag? Oh, dear me!" said Polly.
"Lemme go. I hain't done no harm. Gran'll be wantin' me."
"Who?"
"Gran." The girl, at that, tried to fold up her arms in the remains of hersleeves. But Polly saw the long, red welts that were not pleasant to lookat. She gave a little shiver, but held on firmly to the tattered ends.
"Oh, make her stay," cried Phronsie; "I want her to play with me. I'll letyou take Clorinda again, and she shall be your child," she stood up ontiptoe to say.
"Can't," said the girl, making a desperate effort to twitch away. "Lemmego."
"No, you cannot go until you have told me who you are, and how you know mylittle sister."
Rag looked into the brown eyes of the little girl not so much older, drew along breath, then burst out, "She's visited me to my house," and, puttingon the most defiant expression possible, stood quite still.
_"Visited you at your house!"_ echoed Polly. She nearly dropped theragged sleeve.
"Yes, an' I give her a five-o'clock tea," said Rag proudly. "Any harm inthat? An' I brung her home again, and she ain't hurt a bit. You lemme go,you girl, you!"
"You must come and see Grandpapa," said Polly firmly, a little white linearound her mouth.
"I ain't a-goin'." Rag showed instant fight against any such idea.
"Then, if you don't," said Polly, gripping her arm, "I shall call thegardeners, and they will bring you up to the house."
"Oh, do come," cried Phronsie, who thought everything most delightfullyconspiring to make her friend remain. "Dear Grandpapa will love you, littlegirl; come with Polly and me."
She took hold of her other arm, and Rag, seeing no way out of it and whollybewildered, suffered herself to be led up to the grand mansion.
"Bless me; what have we here?" Old Mr. King, enjoying a morningconstitutional on the big veranda, looked over his spectacles, which he hadforgotten to remove as he had just thrown down the morning paper in achair, and stared in amazement at the three children coming over the lawn.
"My poor little girl, Grandpapa," announced Phronsie, releasing the arm sheclung to, and tumbling up over the steps, "and please make her stay, andI'm going to let her take Clorinda," and she plunged breathlessly into theold gentleman's arms.
"Hoity-toity, child!" exclaimed old Mr. King, holding her closely. "Well,what have we here?"--as Polly led Rag up on to the veranda.
"I don't know, Grandpapa," said Polly, still keeping tight hold of the armin its tattered sleeve.
"It seems to be a little girl," said Grandpapa, peering at the stranger.
"Yes, it's my little girl," said Phronsie happily, "and she's come to playwith me, Grandpapa."
"Oh, my goodness me!"
exclaimed Mr. King, stepping backward and drawingPhronsie closer.
"I ain't come. _She_ brung me," said the girl, pointing with a thumbover at Polly; "tain't my fault; she made me."
"Polly, what is all this?" asked the old gentleman perplexedly, staring atone and the other.
"I don't know, Grandpapa," said Polly, the little white line still aroundher mouth; "she says Phronsie has been at her house, and----"
"_Phronsie been at her house!_" thundered the old gentleman.
"Yes, she has. An' I give her a five-o'clock tea," cried Rag, in a burst,who, thinking that she was probably now going to be killed, began to takepleasure in telling all she knew. "Swell folks does; I seen 'em plenty oftimes on th' avenoo, an' here, too"--she nodded toward the long Frenchwindows--"an' I got as good a right, I guess. An' she let me take her doll,an' I like her. An' we had an orful good time till Gran came in, an' thenwe lit out, an' I brung her home. Now what you goin' to do about it?" Shefolded her thin arms as well as she could, for Polly was still holding toone, and glared defiantly out of her sharp, black eyes.
"Oh, Grandpapa, her arms!" Polly was pointing to the long, red welts.
Rag turned as if shot, and twitched the ragged sleeves down, tucking thefree arm behind her back. "Lemme go, you girl: you hain't no right to see'em, it's none o' your business," she screamed at Polly. Old Mr. King hadsunk into a chair. Phronsie, in his lap, was so busy in putting her faceclose to his, and telling him that it was really her own poor little girl,that she had failed to see the arms and the disclosures they had made.
"Go and get your mother," he said, after a breathing space. "Oh, stay! Ican't hold her"--with a gesture of disgust.
"An' you ain't a-goin' to tetch me," declared Rag proudly; "no, sir-ee!"
"Well, Phronsie, you jump down and go and get your mother," Mr. Kingwhispered, smoothing her yellow hair with a trembling hand.
"I will--I will," she cried gleefully, hopping out of his lap.
"Oh, don't send her away." All the defiance dropped out of Rag's face andmanner, and she whimpered miserably. "She's th' only nice one there ishere. Don't let her go."
"She's coming right back, little girl," said old Mr. King kindly. He evensmiled. But the girl had hung her head, so she didn't see it, and sheblubbered on.
"I'll bring Mamsie to see my poor little girl," Phronsie kept saying toherself over and over, as she scuttled off, and in a very few minutesMother Fisher was out on the veranda in obedience to old Mr. King'ssummons.
"It's beyond me"--the old gentleman waved his hand at Rag--"you'll have tounravel it, Mrs. Fisher. Here, Phronsie, get up in my lap." He strained herso tightly to him, as Phronsie hopped into her accustomed nest, that shelooked up.
"Oh, Grandpapa!" she exclaimed.
"Did I hurt you, child?" he said, in a broken voice.
"A little, Grandpapa dear," she said.
"Well--oh, Lord bless me! I can't talk, child," he finished brokenly.
"Are you sick, Grandpapa?" she asked, sitting straight to look at himanxiously. "Does your head ache? I'll smooth it for you," and she began topat his white hair.
"Oh, no, child, my head doesn't ache. There, sit still, dear, that's all Iwant." So Phronsie cuddled up within his arms, feeling quite sure that nowMamsie had her own poor little girl, everything would be all right.
"She's my nice little girl, and I like her," Phronsie was saying. "Yes, Ido, very much indeed, Grandpapa."
"You do?"
"Yes, and I want her to stay here, Grandpapa. Please, may she?"
"Oh, dear!"
"_Please_, Grandpapa dear." Phronsie put up one hand and tucked itsoftly under his chin. He seized it and covered it with kisses.
"Oh, my lamb--that wicked, careless Joanna!"
"What's the matter, Grandpapa?" Phronsie brought up her head to look at himwith troubled eyes.
"Nothing--nothing, child; there, cuddle down again. Your mother is talkingto the little girl, and she will fix up things. Oh, bless me!"
"Mamsie will fix up things, won't she, Grandpapa?" cooed Phronsie,wriggling her toes happily.
"Yes, dear."
"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, after a moment's silence only broken by a softmurmur of voices, for Mother Fisher had drawn her group to the furthercorner, "I don't think my little girl has got a very nice place to livein."
"Oh, Phronsie, child!" He strained her convulsively to his breast. "There,there, lamb, Oh, I didn't mean to! Grandpapa won't hurt his little pet forthe world."
"You didn't hurt me this time," said Phronsie, "as much as you did before,Grandpapa dear."
"Oh, my child! Grandpapa wouldn't hurt a hair of your blessed head. Oh,that dreadful Joanna!"
"I like my own little girl very much indeed," said Phronsie, dismissing herown hurts to go on with her narrative. "Yes, I do, Grandpapa," she addeddecidedly, "but I don't like the place she lived in. And, Grandpapa"--hereshe drew a long breath--"there was an old lady came in, and I don't thinkshe was a nice old lady, I don't, Grandpapa." Phronsie crept up a bitcloser, if that were possible.
"What did she do, child?" He held his breath for the answer.
"She took hold of my arm," said Phronsie, a shiver seizing her at theremembrance, and she burrowed deeper within the protecting arms, "and shefelt of my beads that Auntie gave me."
"What else?" He scarcely seemed to ask the question.
"And my own little girl pulled me away, and she carried me home, most ofthe way, and I like her." Phronsie brought herself up with an emphaticlittle nod, and smiled.
"That was good."
Phronsie smiled radiantly. "Wasn't it, Grandpapa!" she cried, in delight."And I want her to stay. May she? Oh, may she? She's my own little girl."
"We'll see about it," said old Mr. King, with a thought of the long weltson the thin arms, and the furious old woman.
"What's that noise?" asked Phronsie, suddenly lifting her head.
"Oh, a bird, maybe," said the old gentleman, carelessly looking up to thevines swinging around the veranda. "There, lay your head down again,child."
"It didn't sound like a bird, Grandpapa. I thought some one was crying."Yet she put her yellow head obediently down, and didn't lift it again tillMother Fisher stood by the side of old Mr. King's chair.
"Well, is the conference over?" he asked.
"Yes," said Mrs. Pepper. Her lips had a little white line around them, too,like that on Polly's mouth, and the black eyes had a strange expression.
Phronsie popped her head up like a bird out of its nest, and piped out:
"Oh, please, Mamsie, may she stay?"
"Yes," said Mother Fisher, "she is going to stay, Phronsie."
"Oh, my goodness me!" breathed old Mr. King.
Phronsie slipped out of his arms and began to dance, clapping her hands.
"I'm going to play with her now, but I must get Clorinda first," she criedexcitedly.
"See here, Phronsie," Mother Fisher called, as she was flying off, "youmust not play with the little girl yet."
Phronsie stood quite still.
"Come here to mother." Mrs. Fisher opened her arms and Phronsie scuttledinto them like a little rabbit. Mrs. Pepper held her so closely thatPhronsie looked up quickly.
"Why, you are hurting me like Grandpapa, Mamsie."
"Oh, my child!" Mother Fisher seemed to forget herself, as she bowed herhead over Phronsie's yellow hair.
"What is the matter, Mamsie?" asked Phronsie. "I wish I could see yourface," and she wriggled violently.
"Nothing is the matter now," said Mamsie. "There, child, now I'll tell you.If the little girl stays here, she----"
"She's my little girl," interrupted Phronsie.
"Well, if she stays here, she must be washed and have on clean clothes. SoSarah has taken her, and is going to fix her all up nice."
"Oh--oh!" cried Phronsie, in a transport, "and can she have some of Polly'sclothes, Mamsie?"
"Yes, I guess so. Anyway, we will fix her up all nicely."
"And m
ay she stay here for ever and ever," cried Phronsie, "and not go backto that un-nice old lady? Please, Mamsie, don't let her go back," shepleaded.
Over the yellow hair the old gentleman had found out and communicatedseveral things back and forth. One was, "I don't think she is the child'sown grandmother." "Mr. Cabot can investigate," and so on.
"What are you whispering about?" at last asked Phronsie.
"Nothing that you should know, dear. Now I'm going to put you inGrandpapa's lap, Phronsie. You must be a good girl," and Mother Pepper wentoff.
"You must take care of me, Phronsie," said the old gentleman, "for I reallythink I need it now. And I guess my hair does want to be smoothed, afterall."
"I'll stay and take care of you, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, delighted thather services were really to be called for, and with her heart at rest abouther own poor little girl.