Five Little Peppers Grown Up | Page 2

"Polly, do come with us!" "And you
will be my own brother, Jasper," said Phronsie

CHAPTER I.
POLLY GIVES MUSIC LESSONS.

"Miss Pepper--Miss Pepper!"
Polly turned quickly, it was such an anxious little cry.
"What? Oh, Amy Loughead."
Amy threw herself up against Polly's gown. "Oh, if I may," she began,
flushing painfully. "You see my brother is coming to-morrow--I've a
letter--so if you will let me."
"Let you what?" cried Polly, with a little laugh; "go on, Amy, don't be
afraid."
"You see it is just this way," Amy twisted her fingers together, drew
her breath hard, and rushed on nervously; "Jack--he's my brother, you
know--promised me--I never told you--if I would only learn to play on
the piano, he'd take me to Europe with him next time, and now he's
coming to-morrow, and--and, oh! what shall I do?"
Amy was far gone now, and she ended with a little howl of distress,
that brought two or three of the "Salisbury girls" flying in with
astonishment.
"Go back," said Polly to them all, and they ran off as suddenly as they
had popped in, to leave Amy and the music teacher alone.
"Now, Amy," said Polly kindly, getting down on her knees beside the
girl where she had thrown herself on the broad lounge, "you must just
understand, dear, that I cannot help you unless you will have
self-control and be a little woman yourself."
"You told me I would be sorry if I didn't practice," mourned Amy,
dragging her wet little handkerchief between her fingers, "but I didn't
suppose Jack was coming for six months, and I'd have time to catch up,
and now--oh dear me!" and she burrowed deeper into Miss Salisbury's
big sofa-pillow.
"Take care!" warned Polly, with a ready hand to rescue the elaborate

combination of silk and floss, "it would be a very dreadful thing if this
should get spoiled."
Amy Loughead brought her wet cheek off suddenly. "There isn't a
single tear on it, Miss Pepper," she gasped.
"That's very fortunate," said Polly, with a relieved breath. "Well, Amy
child, how can I help you?" She sat down now, and drew the girl's hot
little hand within her own.
"I can almost play that horrible 'Chopin,'" said Amy irrelevantly; "that
is, I could, if--oh Miss Pepper," she broke off suddenly and brought her
flushed face very near to the one above her, "could you help me play
it--just hear me, you know, and tell me things you did, over again,
about it, if I practice all the afternoon? Could you?"
"This evening, do you mean?" asked Polly, a trifle sharply.
"Yes," said Amy faintly, and twisting her handkerchief. "Oh dear me, I
know you're so tired. What shall I do?"
"But you don't understand," cried Polly, vexed with herself that she
couldn't help her annoyance from being seen. "I shall put some one else
out if I give up my evening. I have an engagement, Amy. No, I don't
see how I can do it, child; I'm sorry." And then before she knew how,
she put both arms around the little figure. "Don't cry, dear, I suppose I
must. I'll get out of the other thing. Yes, fly at Chopin, and keep your
courage up, and I'll be over at seven. Then to-morrow Brother Jack will
say 'How fine!' and off you'll go over the seas!"
Outside, Polly, after enlisting Miss Salisbury's favor for the evening's
plan, was hurrying along the pavement, calling herself an hundred
foolish names for helping an idle girl out of a scrape. "And to think of
losing the only chance to hear D'Albert," she mourned. "Well, it's done
now, and can't be helped. Even Jasper when he hears of it, will think
me a silly, I suppose. Now to make my peace with Pickering."
She turned down the avenue running out from the street that had the

honor to contain "Miss Salisbury's Boarding and Day School for Young
Ladies," and met face to face, suddenly, a young man, about whose joy
at meeting her, there could be no doubt.
"Oh, Polly!" he cried, "here, let me take that detestable thing!" trying to
get the music-roll out of her hand.
"Take care how you talk against this," cried Polly, hugging it closer.
"Indeed you shall not touch it, till you are glad that I am a music
teacher. Oh, I must tell you--I was on my way to your house because I
was afraid you wouldn't understand a note. I can't go to-night."
"Can't go to-night?" repeated Pickering, in his astonishment forgetting
all his manners. "Why, Polly Pepper, what do you mean?"
"Why, I must give it up," cried Polly nervously; "don't ask me--or
perhaps I ought to tell you, Pickering, then you'll see I can't help
myself." And Polly rapidly