BAYREUTH AND OLD FRIENDS
Jasper turned around to gaze at the vast audience filing into the
Wagner Opera House before he took his seat. "This makes me think of
Oberammergau, Polly," he said.
"To think you've seen the Passion Play," she cried, with glowing cheeks.
"That was when I was such a little chap," said Jasper, "ages ago,—nine years, Polly Pepper,—just think; so it will be as good as new next year. Father is thinking a good deal of taking you there next summer."
"Jasper," cried Polly, her cheeks all in a glow, and regardless of next neighbours, "what can I ever do to repay your father for being so very good to me and to all of us?"
"Why, you can keep on making him comfortable, just as you are doing now, Polly," replied Jasper. "He said yesterday it made him grow younger every minute to look at you. And you know he's never sick now, and he was always having those bad attacks. Don't you remember when we first came to Hingham, Polly?" as they took their seats.
"O dear me, I guess I do, Jasper, and how you saved Phronsie from being carried off by the big organ man," and she shivered even now at this lapse of years. "And all the splendid times at Badgertown and the little brown—"
Just then a long hand came in between the people in the seat back of them. "I'm no end glad to see you!" exclaimed a voice. It was Tom Selwyn.
"I'm going over into that vacant seat." Tom forgot his fear of Polly and his hatred of girls generally, and rushed around the aisle to plunge awkwardly into the seat just back of Jasper. "I'll stay here till the person comes." His long arms came in contact with several obstacles, such as sundry backs and shoulders in his progress, but he had no time to consider such small things or to notice the black looks he got in consequence.
"Now, isn't this jolly!" he exclaimed. Jasper was guilty of staring at him; there seemed such a change in the boy, he could hardly believe it was really and truly Tom Selwyn.