Five Little Peppers Grown Up | Page 5

but bestowed his glance on the programme in his hand.
"And now she is queerer than ever," said Alexia, glad to think that the dainty blue affair on her head, she called a bonnet, was already doing its work, as she heard a lady in the seat back of them, question if it were not one of the newest of Madame Marchaud's creations. So she sat more erect, and played nonchalantly with her fan. "Yes, and it's all because of those dreadfully horrid music lessons."
Pickering coughed, and rattled his programme ominously, which Alexia pretended not to hear.
"Why Mr. King lets her do it, I can't see," she went on.
"Do stop," said Pickering shortly, and casting a nervous glance back of her shoulder.
"Never mind if they do hear," said Alexia sweetly, "all the better; then they'll know we don't approve of her doing so, at any rate."
"I do approve," said Pickering, his face flaming, "if she wants to; and we've got to, any way, because we can't help ourselves. I do wish, Alexia, you wouldn't discuss our friends in this public way."
"And I don't think it is a very sweet thing to invite a girl to a concert, and then get up a fight," said Alexia, back at him.
"Goodness--who's fighting?" exclaimed Pickering under his brealn.
"You are--I wish you could see your face; it's as black as a thunder cloud," said Alexia, with the consciousness that her own was as calm as a June morning. "And I'm sure if you don't want to attract people to our conversation, you might at least look a little pleasanter."
Pickering threw two or three nervous glances on either side, to prove her words, and was by no means reassured to see the countenance of Billy Harlow, one of his young business friends, across the aisle, suffused with an attempt to appear as if he hadn't been a witness to the little by-play.
"Well, I'm morally certain I won't trouble you with another invitation to a concert," he said, too furious to quite know his own words.
"You needn't," said Alexia, swinging her fan with an even hand, and still smiling sweetly, this time including in it Billy, who had no girl with him. "I really could endure life at home better than this bliss." And then D'Albert came on the stage, and it was the proper thing to keep quiet, so the hostilities died down.
Going out of the Opera House, Billy Harlow ran up to the two. "Lovely time you've had," he said on Alexia's side, and with a little grimace.
"Haven't I?" said Alexia back again, with the air of a martyr. Pickering stalking along by her side, had the air of a man who didn't care what was being said about him.
"Just look at him now," said Alexia softly, "isn't he sweet? And fancy my bearing it for two hours. I don't think any other girl in our set, could."
"Why didn't Miss Pepper come this evening?" asked Mr. Harlow curiously; "Pickering said he'd asked her."
"Oh! she gave it up to help some girl," said Alexia carelessly. "She's the music teacher at Miss Salisbury's school, you know."
"Oh! is she?" asked Mr. Harlow innocently, forgetting to mention the daily interviews he sustained with his sisters Kitty and Grace who were "Salisbury girls," on Miss Pepper's movements.
"And at the last minute he asked me to take her place," said Alexia with perfect frankness, "and I was goose enough to do it."
"Isn't Miss Pepper going to give a Recital pretty soon?" asked Mr. Harlow, incidentally, as they worked their way along to the entrance.
"Yes, she is," said Alexia sharply, "at the Exeter--we can't stop her; she says she's proud to do it, and it shows the girls' wonderful ability; and all that sort of thing--and--and--oh dear me! after she's once done that, she'll always be 'Miss Pepper the music teacher.' Isn't it horrid!"
"I believe that is our carriage," said Pickering stiffly, and without so much as a half-glance at Billy. "Come, Alexia."

CHAPTER II
GETTING READY FOR CHRISTMAS.
"Baby ought to have a Christmas Tree," said Phronsie slowly.
"Ah--King-Fisher, how is that? Do you want a Christmas Tree?" Jasper dropped to all-fours by the side of the white bundle in the center of the library rug, as he propounded the momentous question.
The Baby plunged forward and buried both fat hands in the crop of brown hair so suddenly brought to his notice.
"Is that the way to show your acknowledgment, sir?" cried Jasper, springing to his feet, Baby and all. "Well, there you go--there, and there, and there!" tossing the white bundle high in the air.
"Goodness! what a breeze you two contrive to raise," exclaimed Joel; "Mamsie," as Mother Fisher put her head in the doorway, "the little chap is getting the worst of it, I tell you."
"Joel's jealous," said Jasper, with a laugh. "Take care, King-Fisher,