And old Turner was waiting at the steps as the carriage rolled up the winding drive, with a monstrous bouquet of his choicest blossoms for Polly, and one exactly like it only a little smaller, for Phronsie; and Prince came rushing out getting in every one's way and nearly devouring Phronsie; and there was King Fisher running away on toddling feet from his nurse to meet them, screaming with all his might; and Mrs. Fargo with Johnny in her arms crowing with delight—all stood on the broad stone porch.
"Oh—oh!" cried Polly, jumping out, her cheeks aflame; "are we really at home!"
"Oh—oh!" echoed Phronsie, flying at them all, and trying to keep hold of Prince at the same time.
And there in the wide hall drawn back within the shadow of the oaken door, were Mr. and Mrs. Whitney and Dick ready to pounce upon them in a moment.
And no one ever hinted a suspicion that the college boys were steaming along as fast as they could, for the evening's festivities; and old Mr. King appeared superbly indifferent to the fact that Mr. Marlowe was waiting at a hotel for that hour to arrive; and everybody rushed off to get ready for dinner, with the exception of Polly and Jasper and Phronsie.
"Oh! we must go in the conservatory just for a minute," begged Phronsie, flying off on eager feet.
"We'll only take one peep," said Polly, just as eagerly, "come on,
Jasper."
And then Polly had to run into the long drawing-room, and just look at her piano, and lay her fingers lovingly on the keys.
"Don't try it with your lame hand, Polly," begged Jasper, close beside.
"No, I won't," promised Polly, running light scales with the fingers of the other hand. "But oh! Jasper, I do verily believe I could. My arm feels so well."