Phronsie obediently pushed the big green door to, and pattered after Polly.
“You see,” said Polly, running her head into the old corner cupboard, “Ben and Joel will have a good dinner at Deacon Blodgett’s, and Davie is at the parsonage—I’m so glad he was such a good boy to help Mrs. Henderson.”
“Ugh!” came a noise from the corner over by Mrs. Pepper’s big chair.
“What was that?” cried Polly, pulling her head out of the cupboard. “Don’t be afraid, child,” as Phronsie huddled up to her.
“But I am, Polly,” said Phronsie, snuggling up closer than ever, “very much afraid.”
“Mamsie said we weren’t to be afraid at things, but to see what they were, so I’m going to.” Polly ran across the old kitchen, Phronsie hanging to her.
“Why, David Pepper!” cried Polly, nearly tumbling over him as she ran around Mother Pepper’s big chair. Then she turned very white.
“What is it, Davie? Oh, where are you hurt?” she asked, while Phronsie with a little wail, threw her arms around him, too.
“I’m not hurt,” sobbed David. “O dear, dear!”
“Not hurt!” gasped Polly, hanging to the chair.