Five Little Peppers Grown Up | Page 3

unfolded her plan for the evening, omitting
all details as to Amy's careless waste of her lessons despite all efforts to
make her practice. At the end of the recital, Pickering Dodge came to a
full pause on the sidewalk, regardless of all passers-by, and turned a
glowering face on Polly, who was forced to stand still also, and look at
him.
"What idiocy!" he exclaimed, "to give up D'Albert for that ignoramus!
Polly, are you losing your senses?"
"I don't know," said poor Polly, who had lost the first flush of
enthusiasm over her plan, and to whom nothing now seemed so
delightful as the sight and sound of D'Albert and his wonderful melody.
"Well, it's done, so don't tempt me to feel badly, Pickering."
"Indeed, and it's not done," said Pickering angrily; "you made the
engagement, Polly. I never knew you to break one before," he added
stingingly.
The tears flew into Polly's brown eyes, and every bit of color deserted
her round cheek. "Don't call it that, Pickering," she implored, putting

out her hand.
"I shall call it just what it is," declared Pickering, in his stiffest fashion.
"It's a broken engagement, Polly Pepper, nothing more nor less."
"Then," said Polly, all her tears dried, "I must go with you, if you hold
me to it." She raised her head, and looked him full in the eyes. "I will
be ready," and she moved off with her most superb air, without
deigning a good-by.
[Illustration: "WHY, POLLY PEPPER, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"]
"Oh, Polly," cried Pickering, starting forward to overtake her, "see here,
if you very much wish it, why, of course, Polly--Polly, do look
around!"
"What do you wish to say?" asked Polly, not looking around as he
gained her side.
"Why, of course," cried Pickering, his words stumbling over each other,
"if you can't go, I'll--I'll give it up, and stay at home."
"And why should you stay at home?" cried Polly, suddenly giving him
a glimpse of her face; "you've lovely seats; do ask Alexia."
"Alexia!" exclaimed Pickering angrily. "Indeed I will not. I don't want
any one if I can't have you, Polly." He was really miserable now, and
needed comfort, so she turned around and administered it as only Polly
could.
By the time the talk was over, she hurried off with a radiant face, and
Pickering with an expression only one remove from that of absolute
gloom, retraced his steps to lay one of "the lovely seats" for the
D'Albert concert, before Miss Rhys, for her acceptance.
Phronsie came slowly down the hall to meet Polly as usual; this day
with one of her company white gowns on. Polly always knew when
these were donned that something unusual was to be expected from the

daily routine of the household.
"Are you really and truly home, Polly?" asked Phronsie, taking the
music-roll to tuck it under her own arm.
"Yes, Pet;" Polly set a kiss on the red lips. "And I am as hungry as a
beaver, Phronsie."
"So you must be," said Phronsie, with a little sigh, "for you were so
long in coming home. Well, do hurry now, Polly." This last as Polly
was skipping over the stairs to her own room to freshen up a bit. Then
Phronsie turned into the dining-room to be quite sure that the butler had
made the belated luncheon as fine as Polly could desire it.
"She didn't ask why I had on this gown," mused Phronsie, softly
disposing again the flowers at Polly's plate, "and it's funny, I think, for
Polly always sees everything;" and she began to look troubled at once.
[Illustration: PHRONSIE CAME SLOWLY DOWN THE HALL.]
"This is just as splendid as it can be," cried Polly, coming in, and
picking up one of the roses at her plate. "Phronsie, you are just a dear to
have everything so nice," and she fastened it at her belt. "Why, dear me!
You've a fine gown on! What is going to happen?"
"And you didn't see it," said Phronsie, a bit reproachfully, as she gently
smoothed the front breadth of mull.
"Forgive me, dear," begged Polly. "Well, what is it, Pet? Do tell me; for
I'm dying of curiosity, as the Salisbury girls say."
Phronsie stood up on tiptoe, and achieved Polly's ear.
"Who do you think is coming to-night?" she whispered impressively.
"To-night? Oh, dear me! I can't possibly guess," said Polly, beginning
to think that this one evening of all the year held supreme moments for
her. "Who is it, Phronsie? do tell me quickly."

"Well," said Phronsie, drawing off to see the surprised delight sure to
come on Polly's face, "it's Jasper himself."
"Not Jasper?" exclaimed Polly, quite gone with joy. "Oh, Phronsie
Pepper, you can't mean that?"
"But I do," said