Phronsie drew a long breath. “And is Bensie all right, too?” she asked.
“Yes, Ben is all right, too,” Mother Pepper answered.
“And is Joel all right?” Phronsie regarded her mother closely again, but the look of fear had dropped out of her face, and she put up one little hand to her mother’s cheek. “Is he, Mamsie?”
“Joel is all right, Phronsie.” Then Mother Pepper smiled, “And Davie, too. Everybody and everything is all as it should be, child.”
“Oh, I’m so glad,” cried Phronsie, with a little crow of delight, and patting her hands together. Then she slipped down from her mother’s lap.
“It is, it is! Every single thing, and I’m glad,” and she began to dance as hard as she could up and down the old kitchen.
“And now, Polly,” said Mrs. Pepper, picking up her sewing again, and sending a bright smile down to Polly, “you better fly at those basting-threads as quick as ever you can,” which Polly did, and when the boys came running in, with all thoughts of circus driven out of their heads, the old kitchen was as bright as ever, and fairly running over with good cheer.
Meantime, Mrs. Pepper and Polly had been talking, for Mamsie had cast about in her own mind very hard to discover some way to make up as far as possible to the children for their disappointment about the circus. It really seemed that its heralded arrival had driven all Badgertown people almost out of their wits with joy, to think it was coming to their village on the morrow. And all households were busily planning for some, if not all, of their members to attend the performances.
But one after another of the nice plans that presented themselves to Mrs. Pepper took money to carry them out, so, of course, that would have been as bad as to buy circus tickets. What could she do? “There must be some way, and I’ve got to find it,” she said, stitching on, her lips pressed tighter together than ever.
At last she laid down her needle.