“Pepper! Pepper!” repeated Mr. Whitney, perplexedly.
“She's coming—I hear her up-stairs,” cried Van Whitney. “Oh, let me tell her!” He struggled to get down from his father's arms as he said this.
“No, I shall—I heard her first!” cried Percy. “Oh, dear me! Grandpapa's going to!”
Mr. King advanced to the foot of the staircase as his daughter, all unconscious, ran down with a light step, and a smile on her face.
“Has Polly come?” she asked, seeing only her father. “Yes,” replied the old gentleman, shortly, “and she's brought a big bundle, Marian!”
“A big bundle?” she repeated wonderingly, and gazing at him.
“A very big bundle,” he said, and taking hold of her shoulders he turned her around on—her husband.
So Polly and Phronsie crept in unnoticed after all.
“I wish Ben was here,” said little Davie, capering around the Whitney group, “an' Jappy, I do!”
“Where are they!” asked Polly.