And then when Mrs. Henderson ran up to see how things were getting on, she was so pleased! And she told Polly she could pack all the various articles back into the old chest, which delighted Polly very much. And then left alone once more, the big old chest all packed up, Polly seized the broom and swept every bit of dust from the old garret floor as far as she could reach, being especially careful to make it very clean over “Jonathan, the Blacksmith.” And then just as she had nearly begun brushing down the stairs, up ran the minister’s wife, with very pink cheeks after being over the kitchen stove.
“What a good girl you are, Polly Pepper!” she exclaimed. “Now, I expected to have to do those stairs myself.” And she was so pleased, she almost let out a little secret, that the parson had waiting for the two little Peppers. “Come, Phronsie,” she called, “dinner’s ready, child.”
And then after Polly had washed Phronsie’s face and hands, and after that her own in the big blue and white bowl in the big bedroom, and Phronsie’s hair had been brushed, and Polly had made her own as neat as a pin, down they hurried, and if there wasn’t Ben Pepper, sitting next to Parson Henderson, and watching sharply for them to come in!
Phronsie screamed right out, “Bensie!” and rushed over to him, and Polly ran and hugged him around the neck. “Oh, I’m so glad you’ve come!” she gasped.
“I thought I’d bring him, so I went over and asked Mrs. Pepper. Luckily, Ben had just come in from his work,” said Parson Henderson, with a little satisfied chuckle. “Now, then, Peletiah and Ezekiel, you let Ben sit between you.”
Peletiah and Ezekiel solemnly made way for Ben Pepper as their father had said. And down they all sat, except Polly, who helped Mrs. Henderson bring in the hot dishes.
When Phronsie saw Polly helping she tried to clamber out of her chair next to the minister to do the same. But the parson laid his hand on her. “No, no, child,” he said, “you must stay and take care of me.”
“Can I take care of you?” asked Phronsie, stopping instantly and looking up at him.
“Indeed you can,” declared Mr. Henderson, heartily.
“Then I will,” said Phronsie, settling back in her chair in great satisfaction. And presently there they all were, seven of them, the parson and his wife as young as the others, around the table, and the parsonage dinner was fairly under way.