“It's a wretched climate,” he asserted, over and over; “and the foundation of all my ill feelings this winter was laid, I'm convinced, in Hingham last summer.”
No use to urge the contrary; and all Jasper's pleadings were equally vain. At last, sister Marian, who was kind-hearted to a fault, sorry to see her brother's dismay and disappointment said, one day, “Why not have one of the children come here? I should like it very much—do invite Ben.”
“I don't want Ben,” said Jasper gloomily, “I want Polly.” He added this in much the same tone as Phronsie's when she had rushed up to him the day she was lost, declaring, “I want Polly!”
“Very well, then,” said sister Marian, laughing, “I'm sure I didn't mean to dictate which one; let it be Polly then; yes, I should prefer Polly myself, I think, as we've enough boys now,” smiling to think of her own brood of wide awake youngsters.
“If you only will, father, I'll try to be ever so good!” said Jasper, turning suddenly to his father.
“Jasper needs some change,” said sister Marian kindly, “he really has grown very pale and thin.”
“Hey!” said Mr. King, sharply, looking at him over his eyeglasses. “The boy's well enough; well enough!” But he twisted uneasily in his chair, all the same. At last he flung down his paper, twitched his fingers through his hair two or three times, and then burst out—“Well, why don't you send for her? I'm sure I don't care—I'll write myself, and I had better do it now. Tell Thomas to be ready to take it right down; it must get into this mail.”
When Mr. King had made up his mind to do anything, everybody else must immediately give up their individual plans, and stand out of the way for him to execute his at just that particular moment! Accordingly Thomas was dragged from his work to post the letter, while the old gentleman occupied the time in pulling out his watch every third second until the slightly-out-of-breath Thomas reported on his return that the letter did get in. Then Mr. King settled down satisfied, and everything went on smoothly as before.
But Polly didn't come! A grateful, appreciative letter, expressed in Mrs. Pepper's own stiff way, plainly showed the determination of that good woman not to accept what was such a favor to her child.
In vain Mr. King stormed, and fretted, and begged, offering every advantage possible—Polly should have the best foundation for a musical education that the city could afford; also lessons in the schoolroom under the boys' private tutor—it was all of no avail. In vain sister Marian sent a gentle appeal, fully showing her heart was in it; nothing broke down Mrs. Pepper's resolve, until, at last, the old gentleman wrote one day that Jasper, being in such failing health, really depended on Polly to cheer him up. That removed the last straw that made it “putting one's self under an obligation,” which to Mrs. Pepper's independent soul, had seemed insurmountable.