"And where do you live?" asked the old woman, without the slightest attention to his remark.
"At Mr. King's," said Ben. "He's my own dear Grandpapa," announced Phronsie, pressing up closely, "and I've bought him a dear little cat," holding it as high as she could.
"Drive home, Carson," was all the old woman said. So Carson, almost beside himself with delight that she was safely inside, went off at his best pace, and the carriage was soon lost to view around the corner.
"Well," said Ben, "she'll soon be home now," with a sigh of relief. "We must make haste and get to Gallagher's."
When they came out of Gallagher's an hour later, they were so laden down with bundles, little and big, for the children insisted on carrying everything home, that Polly and Ben had all they could do, what with their own parcels, to pilot the three younger ones along.
Everything had gone off splendidly, just the right presents had been found and bought, and, bubbling over with joy, the little group hurried along to get home to Mamsie, knocking into everybody and being knocked about in return by big and crisscrossed bundles of every description, as their owners endeavored to wind their way along the crowded streets.
"O dear, where is Papa Doctor?" cried Polly, for the third time, when the coffee was brought in at dinner, and the children, who couldn't take any, were busy over the nuts and raisins. The shopping expedition had been hilariously told by the whole bunch, all except Phronsie, who had been too sleepy to more than mumble to Mamsie her purchase of the little cat, before she hid it in the under drawer of the big mahogany bureau. She wanted dreadfully to take it to bed with her, but that would never do, as it was to be a Christmas gift. So she patted it lovingly good-by, and, after her nursery tea, was popped into bed herself.
"O dear me!" Polly ended with a sigh, for she never felt just comfortable unless she could tell Doctor Fisher everything, so half the pleasure of the recital was lost to her.
"He is busy with a case, I suppose," said Mother Fisher, yet she looked worried and cast an anxious glance at the door.
"Working himself to death," observed old Mr. King, from the head of the table, yet his eyes gleamed with delight. "Just what I said," he was revolving in his own mind; "if he would come to the city, he could lead the profession."