"No use to say anything to father when he looks like that," groaned Jasper, when Polly besought him to try his influence, "his blood is up now; he's borne a good deal, you know, Polly."
"O dear, dear!" whispered Polly, back again, "just look at Mrs.
Chatterton's face, and at poor Phronsie's; can't you do something,
Jasper?"
"I'm afraid not," said Jasper gloomily. "No; he's making her give it back; see, Polly."
"You'll know it's for the best," Mr. King was repeating as he led the child to Mrs. Chatterton standing cold and silent at the end of the room, "sometime, child, and then you'll thank me that I saved you from further annoyance of this sort. There, Cousin Eunice, is your gift," taking the doll from Phronsie's hand, and placing it in the long, jeweled one. "My little granddaughter receives presents only from those who love her. All others are unwarranted, and must be returned."
Phronsie burst out tearfully, "She's sorry, Grandpapa, I know she is, and she loves me now. Please let me keep the doll."
But Mrs. Chatterton had left the room, the doll in her hand.
XXIV
AWAY
And after that everybody had to be as gay as possible, to keep
Phronsie's sad little face from being flooded with tears.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Jasper, "here comes Candace! Now what do you suppose she has for you, Phronsie?"