“Live there!” cried Jasper; and then he burst out into a merry laugh. “No, indeed! I hope not! Why, we're only spending the summer there, father and I, in the hotel.”
“Where's your mother?” asked Joel, squeezing in between Jasper and his audience. And then they all felt instinctively that a very wrong question had been asked.
“I haven't any mother,” said the boy, in a low voice.
They all stood quite still for a moment; then Polly said, “I wish you'd come out sometime; and you may bake—or anything else,” she added; and there was a kinder ring to her voice than ever.
No mother! Polly for her life, couldn't imagine how anybody could feel without a mother, but the very words alone smote her heart; and there was nothing she wouldn't have done to give pleasure to one who had done so much for them.
“I wish you could see our mother,” she said, gently. “Why, here she comes now! oh, mamsie, dear,” she cried. “Do, Joe, run and take her bundle.”
Mrs. Pepper stopped a minute to kiss Phronsie—her baby was dearer than ever to her now. Then her eye fell on Jasper, who stood respectfully waiting and watching her with great interest.
“Is this,” she asked, taking it all in at the first glance—the boy with the honest eyes as Ben had described him—and the big, black dog—“is this the boy who saved my little girl?”
“Oh, ma'am,” cried Jasper, “I didn't do much; 'twas Prince.”
“I guess you never'll know how much you did do,” said Mrs. Pepper. Then looking with a long, keen gaze into the boy's eyes that met her own so frankly and kindly: “I'll trust him,” she said to herself; “a boy with those eyes can't help but be good.”