And how the dreadful measles fell upon the whole Pepper flock, and the dear mother was almost in despair, and how good dear Doctor Fisher was, and how he saved Polly’s eyes, and then got her her stove. And then how the wonderful Christmas had come from Jappy and Grandpapa, and Polly had her bird and her flowers, and Ben had made a Santa Claus wig out of the hair in Mamsie’s old cushion, sprinkling it snowy white with flour. And how Mamsie had hidden all the splendid presents over at Parson Henderson’s.
“Such a time as we had,” breathed both the parson and his wife, who had run up from the Orphan Home at Dunraven for the occasion.
Well—and how Phronsie had her doll, such a gorgeous affair she was afraid for days to show her to Seraphina, for fear of hurting the feelings of the latter. And then Phronsie had to get out of her chair, and make her way out of the circle surrounding the Pepper group, and go into the bedroom, where, kneeling down before the old bureau, she drew with a loving hand from the lowest drawer the two dolls.
“Bring the little red-topped shoes, too, Phronsie,” called Polly; “do, dear.”
With her arms full, Phronsie entered the kitchen.
So Phronsie reached back into the farthest corner, and carefully drew out a tissue paper bundle that held the precious shoes, just as she had worn them last; and with her arms full, she was just entering the kitchen, all eyes upon her, when Polly said in answer to some question, “Yes, Mamsie wrote they would be in Rome next month.”
Grace Tupper sprang suddenly from her chair. “O Mrs. King! will they, will they? Then perhaps they will see my cousin Roslyn May.”
CHAPTER XI.
ON THE WAY TO THE BEEBES.
“I ’M going down to see dear Mr. Beebe and dear Mrs. Beebe,” cried Elyot suddenly the next morning; and he threw down the small trowel with which he had been spatting his mud-pie into shape, and jumped up, “Come along, Barby, you may go too,” he said. “We won’t trouble anybody to take us, ’cause they’re all busy. I know the way.”