CHAPTER IV.
THE FESTIVITIES.
Phronsie looked down into the sea of eager faces "Oh, Grandpapa," sheexclaimed softly, and plucking his sleeve, "don't you think we mighthurry and begin?"
"Dear me, Phronsie," cried the old gentleman, whirling around in his bigchair to look at her, "why, they aren't all in, child," glancing downthe aisle where Jasper as chief usher with Ben and the others werebusily settling the children. "Bless me, what is Joel doing?"
Phronsie looked too, to see Joel hurrying up to the platform with alittle colored child perched on his shoulder. She was crying all overhis new coat, and at every step uttered a sharp scream.
"Toss the little beggar out," advised Livingston Bayley, as Joel shot bywith his burden.
"Here, Joe, I'll give her a seat" cried David from a little knot ofchildren, all turning excitedly around at the commotion, "there's justone here."
"Much obliged," said Joel, stalking on, "but she says she wants to seePhronsie about something."
Polly, who caught the last words, looked down reproachfully at him fromthe platform where Phronsie always insisted that she should sit close toher. "Can't help it," Joel telegraphed back, "I can't stop her crying."
Phronsie heard now, and getting out of her chair, she stepped to theplatform edge. "Let me take her," she begged.
"Phronsie, you can't have her up here!" Polly exclaimed, while old Mr.King put forth an uneasy hand to stop all such proceedings, and two orthree of the others hurried up to remonstrate with Joel.
"She wants to see me," said Phronsie, putting her cool cheek against thedark little one; "it's the new child that came yesterday," and she tookher off from Joel's shoulder, and staggered back to her seat by Polly'sside.
"Phronsie, do put her down," whispered Polly, "it's almost time tobegin," glancing off at the clock under its wealth of evergreen at thefarther end of the hall. "Here, do let me take her."
But Phronsie was whispering so fast that she didn't hear.
"What is it? Please tell me quickly, for it is almost time to have theTree."
At mention of the Tree, the little creature sat straight in Phronsie'swhite lap. "May I have some of it, if I am black?" she begged, her beadyeyes running with tears.
"Yes," said Phronsie, "I've tied a big doll on it for you my very ownself." Then she put her lips on the dark little cheek. "Now you must getdown, for I have to talk to the children, and tell them all aboutthings, and why they have a Christmas."
But the little thing huddled up against Phronsie's waist-ribbons. "I'mthe only one that's black," she said. "I want to stay here."
"Now you see, Joel," began old Mr. King harshly. Phronsie laid a softhand on his arm. "Please, Grandpapa dear, may she have a little cricketup here? She feels lonely down with the other children, for she's onlyjust come."
"Oh, dear--dear!" groaned Polly, looking down at the little black objectin Phronsie's lap. "Now what shall we do?" This last to Jasper as hehurried up.
"I suppose we shall have to let her stay," he began.
"When Phronsie looks like that, she won't ever let her go," declaredBen, with a wise nod over at the two.
"She's just as determined as she was that day when she would send Mr.King her gingerbread boy," cried Polly, clasping her hands.
Jasper gave her a bright smile. "I wouldn't worry, Polly," he said."See, Joel has just put a cricket--it's all right," looking into Polly'stroubled eyes.
Phronsie, having seated her burden on the cricket at her feet, got outof her own chair, and took one step toward the platform edge, beginning,"Dear children." But the small creature left behind clutched thefloating hem of the white gown, and screamed harder than ever.
"Bless me!" ejaculated Mr. King in great distress. "Here, will somebodytake this child down where she belongs?" While Polly with flushedcheeks, leaned over, and tried to unclasp the little black fingers.
"Go up there, Joe, and stop the row," said Livingston Bayley from thevisitor's seat at the end of the hall; "you started it."
Jack Loughead took a step or two in the direction of the platform, thenthought better of it, and got back into his place again, hoping no onehad noticed him in the confusion.
Phronsie leaned over as well as she could for the little hands pullingher back. "Jasper," she begged, "do move the cricket so that she may sitby me."
And before anybody quite knew how it was done, there was the new childsitting on her cricket, and huddled up against the soft folds ofPhronsie's white gown, while Phronsie, standing close to the platformedge, began again, "Dear children, you know this is Christmas Day--yourvery own Christmas Day. And every Christmas Day since you came to theHome, I have told you the story of the dear beautiful Lady; and everysingle Christmas I am going to tell it to you again, so that you willnever, never forget her."
Here Phronsie turned, and pointed up to a large, full-length portrait ofMrs. Chatterton hanging on the wall over the platform. It was painted inher youth by a celebrated French artist, and represented a beautifulyoung woman in a yellow satin gown, whose rich folds of lace fell awayfrom perfectly molded neck and arms.
All the children stared at the portrait as usual in this stage of theproceedings. "Now you must say after me, 'I thank my beautiful Lady forthis Home,'" said Phronsie slowly.
"I thank my beautiful Lady for this Home," said every child distinctly.
"Because without her I could not have had it," said Phronsie. "You mustalways remember that, children. Now say it." She stood very patiently,her hands folded together, and waited to hear them repeat it.
"Because without her I could not have had it," said the children, one ortwo coming in shrilly as a belated echo.
"Will you?" asked Phronsie, looking down into theirfaces.]
"And I thank her for the beautiful Tree," said Phronsie. "Now say it,please."
"I thank her for the beautiful Tree," shouted the children, craningtheir necks away from the portrait to get a glimpse of thecurtain-veiled Tree in the other room. "Please can't we have it now?"begged several voices.
"No; not until you all hear the story. Well, now, God took the beautifulLady away to Heaven; but she is always going to be here too," againPhronsie pointed to the portrait, "just as long as there is any Home.And she is going to smile at you, because you are all going to be goodchildren and try to study and learn all that dear Mr. Henderson teachesyou; and you are going to obey every single thing that dear Mrs.Henderson tells you, just as soon as she speaks," said Phronsie slowly,and turning her head to look at the different rows.
"I hope we'll be forgiven for sitting here and listening to old ladyChatterton's praises," whispered Mrs. Hamilton Dyce to her husband. "Itmakes me feel dreadfully wicked to swallow it all without a protest."
"Oh, we've swallowed that annually for three years now," said Mr. Dycewith a little laugh, "and grown callous. Your face is just as bad as itwas the first time Phronsie eulogized her."
"I can't help it," declared his wife, "when I think of that dreadfulold"--
"Oh, come," remonstrated her husband, "let's bury the past; Phronsiehas."
"Phronsie!" ejaculated Mrs. Dyce. "Oh, that blessed child! Just hear hernow."
"So on this Christmas Day," Phronsie was saying in clear tones, "you areto remember that you wouldn't have had this Tree but for the beautifulLady; and on every single other day, you must remember that you wouldn'tever have had this Home; not a bit of any of it"--here she turned andlooked around the picture-hung walls, and out of the long windows to thedark pines and firs of the broad lawn, tossing their snow-ladenbranches, "but for the beautiful lady. And you must every one of youhelp to make this Home just the very best Home that ever was. Will you?"And then she smiled down into their faces while she waited for heranswer.
"Oh, yes, yes," screamed the children, every one. The little blackcreature got off from her cricket at Phronsie's feet to look into herface. "And I will too," she cried.
"And now you all want to thank Miss Phronsie for her kind words, wekno
w," Jasper cried at this point, hurrying into the middle of theaisle, "and so, children, you may all stand up and say 'Thank you,' andwave your handkerchiefs."
Up flew all the rows of children to their feet, and a cloud of tinywhite squares of cambric fluttered in the air, and the children keptpiping out, "Thank you--Thank you." And old Mr. King began a cheer forPhronsie, and another for the children; and then somebody down at theend of the long hall set up another for Mr. King, and somebody elsestarted one for Mr. Henderson, and another for Mrs. Henderson, and therewas plenty of noise, and high above it all rang the peals of happy,childish laughter. And when it was all done, everybody pausing to takebreath, then Amy Loughead sent out the finest march ever heard, from thegrand piano, and Polly and Jasper and all the rest marshaled thechildren into a procession, and Phronsie clinging to old Mr. King's handon the one side, and holding fast to the small black palm on the other,away they all went, the visitors falling into line, around and aroundthe big hall, till at last--oh! at last, they turned into the EnchantedLand that held the wonderful Christmas Tree. And when they were allbefore it, and Phronsie in the center, she lifted her hand, and the roombecame so still one could hear a pin drop. And then the little childrenwho had sung the carols in the morning stepped forward and began, "Itcame upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old"--
And Phronsie drew a long breath, and folded her hands, not stirring tillthe very last word died on the air.
And then Jasper and the others slowly drew aside the white curtain; andoh! the dazzling, beautiful apparition that greeted every one's eyes! Noone could stop the children's noisy delight, and the best of it was,that no one wanted to. So for the next few moments it was exactly likethe merry time over the Tree in the "Provision Room" of the Little BrownHouse years ago, just as Polly had said; only there was ever so muchmore of it, because there were ever so many more children to make it!
And Polly and Ben were like children again themselves; and David andJoel were everywhere helping on the fun; in which excitement the otherHarvard man and even Livingston Bayley were not ashamed to take a mostactive part, as Jasper, who had borrowed Santa Claus' attire for thisoccasion, now made his appearance with a most astonishing bow. And thenthe presents began to fly from the Tree, and Jack Loughead seemed to beall arms, for he was so tall he could reach down the hanging gifts fromthe higher branches, so that he was in great demand; and PickeringDodge, one eye on all of Polly's movements, worked furiously, and AlexiaRhys and Cathie Harrison didn't give themselves hardly time to breathe;and there was quite enough for Mr. Alstyne and the Cabots and HamiltonDyce to do, and everybody else, for that matter, to pass around thepresents. And in the midst of it all, a big doll, resplendent in a redsatin gown, and an astonishing hat, was untied from the tree.
"O, I want to give it to her myself!" cried Phronsie.
"So you shall," declared Jasper, handing it to her.
"Susan, this is your very own child," said Phronsie, turning to thelittle colored girl at her side. "Now you won't feel lonely ever, willyou?" and she laid the doll carefully into the outstretched arms.
And at last the green branches had shaken off their wealth of gifts, andthe shining candles began to go out, one by one.
"Grandpapa," cried Polly, coming up to old Mr. King and Phronsie, with abasket of mottoes and bonbons enough to satisfy the demands of the mostexacting Children's Home, "we ought to get our paper caps on."
"Bless me!" ejaculated old Mr. King, pulling out his watch, "it can't betime to march. Ah, it's a quarter of four this minute. Here, child," toPhronsie, "pick out your bonbon so that I can snap it with you."
Phronsie gravely regarded the pretty bonbons in Polly's basket. "I mustpick out yours first, Grandpapa," she said slowly, lifting a silverpaper-and-lace arrangement with a bunch of forget-me-nots in the center."I think this is pretty."
"So it is; most beautiful, dear," said the old gentleman, in greatsatisfaction. "Now we must crack it, I suppose." So he took hold of oneend, and Phronsie held fast to the other of the bonbon, and a sharplittle report gave the signal for all the bonbons to be opened.Thereupon, everybody, old and young, hurried to secure one, and greatwas the snapping and cracking that now followed.
"Oh, Grandpapa, isn't your cap pretty?" exclaimed Phronsie in pleasedsurprise, drawing forth a pink and yellow crinkled tissue bit. "See,"smoothing it out with a gentle hand, "it's a crown, Grandpapa!"
"Now that's perfectly lovely!" cried Polly, setting down her basket."Here, let me help you, child--there, that's straight. Now, Grandpapa,please bend over so that Phronsie can put it on."
Instead, the old gentleman dropped to one knee. "Now, dear," he saidgallantly. So Phronsie set the pink and yellow crown on his white hair,stepping back gravely to view the effect.
"It is so very nice, dear Grandpapa," she said, coming back to his side.So old Mr. King stood up, with quite a regal air, and Phronsie had alittle blue and white paper bonnet tied under her chin by Grandpapa'sown hand. And caps were flying on to all the heads, and each right handheld a tinkling little bell that had swung right merrily on a greenbranch-tip. And away to Amy Loughead's second march--on and on, janglingtheir bells, the procession went, through the long hall, till old Mr.King and Phronsie who led, turned down the broad staircase, and into thedining-room; and here the guests stood on either side of the doorwaywhile the little Home children passed up through their midst.
And there were two long tables, one for the Home children, with a placefor Phronsie at its head, and another for old Mr. King at the foot. Andthe other table was for the older people; both gay with Christmas holly,and sweet with flowers. And when all were seated, and a hush fell uponthe big room, Phronsie lifted her hand.
_We Thank Thee, oh Lord, For this Christmas Day, And may we love Thee And serve Thee alway. For Jesus Christ The Holy Child's sake. Amen._
It rang out clear and sweet in childish treble, floating off into thehalls and big rooms.
"Now, Candace," Phronsie lifted a plate of biscuits, and a comfortablefigure of a colored woman, resplendent in the gayest of turbans and asmart stuff gown, made its appearance by Phronsie's chair.
"I'm here, honey," and Candace's broad palm received the first plate tobe passed, which opened the ceremony of the Christmas feast.
Oh, this Christmas feast at Dunraven! It surpassed all the otherDunraven Christmases on record; everybody said so. And at last, when noone could possibly eat more, all the merry roomful, young and old, musthave a holly sprig fastened to the coat, or gown, or apron, and theprocession was formed to march back to the hall; and Mr. Jack Loughead'sstereopticon flashed out the most beautiful pictures, that his brightdescriptions explained to the delighted children; and then games andromps, and more bonbons, and favors and flowers; and at last the sleighsand barges for Mr. King's party were drawn up in the moonlight, at thedoor of Dunraven, and the Christmas at the Home was only a beautifulmemory.
"Miss Mary"--Mr. Livingston Bayley put out his brown drivingglove--"this way," trying to lead her off from the gay group on thesnow-covered veranda.
"Why, I don't understand," began Polly, in the midst of trying to makePhronsie see that it was not necessary to go back and comfort Susan withanother good-by, and turning a bewildered face up at him.
"Why, I certainly supposed you accepted my offer to drive you to thestation," said Mr. Bayley hurriedly, and still extending his hand."Come, Miss Pepper."
"Come, Polly, I've a seat for you," cried Alexia, just flying into thebiggest barge. "Do hurry, Polly."
"Polly," called Jasper. She could see that he stood by one of thesleighs, beckoning to her.
Meantime, Phronsie had been borne off by old Mr. King, and Polly couldhear her say, "Somebody get Polly a seat, please."
"I considered it a promise," Livingston Bayley was saying under cover ofthe gay confusion. "And accordingly I prepared myself. But of course ifyou do not wish to fulfill it, Miss Pepper, why, I"--
"Oh, no, no," cried Polly hastily, "if you really thought
I promisedyou, Mr. Bayley, I will go, thank you," and without a backward glance atthe others, she moved off to the gay little cutter where the horse stoodshaking his bells impatiently.
"Where's Polly?" somebody called out. And somebody else peered down therow of vehicles, and answered, "Mr. Bayley's driving her."
And they were all off.
Polly kept saying to herself, "Oh, dear, dear, what could I have said tomake him think I would go with him?" And Livingston Bayley smiledhappily to himself under the collar of his driving coat; and thesparkling snow cut into little crystals by the horse's flying feet,dashed into their faces, and the scraps of laughter and merry nonsensefrom the other sleighs, made Polly want nothing so much as to cower downinto the corner of the big fur robes, for a good cry.
And before she knew it, Mr. Bayley had turned off, leaving the gayprocession on the main road.
"Oh!" cried Polly then, and starting forward, "Mr. Bayley, why, we'reoff the road!"
"I know a short cut to the depot," he answered hastily, "it's a betterway."
"But we may miss the train--oh, do turn back, and overtake them," beggedPolly, in a tremor.
"This is a vastly better road," said Mr. Bayley, and instead of turningback, he flicked the horse lightly with his whip. "You'll say, MissMary, that it's much better this way." He tried to laugh. "Isn't thesleighing superb?"
"Oh, yes--oh dear me!" cried poor Polly, straining her eyes to catch asight of the last vehicle with its merry load. "Indeed, Mr. Bayley, I'mafraid we sha'n't get to the depot in time. There may be drifts on thisroad, or something to delay us."
"Oh, no, indeed!" cried Livingston Bayley confidently, now smiling againat his forethought in driving over this very identical piece of roadway,when the preparations for the Christmas festivity were keeping all theother people busy at Dunraven, and leaving him free to provide himselfwith sleighing facilities for the evening. "Don't be troubled, I knowall about it; I assure you, Miss Mary, we shall reach the depot as soonas the rest of the party do, for it's really a shorter cut."
Polly beat her foot impatiently on the warm foot-muff he had wrung withdifficulty from the livery keeper, and counted the moments, unable tosay a word.
"Miss Mary"--suddenly Mr. Livingston Bayley turned--"everything isforgiven under such circumstances, I believe," and he laughed.
Polly didn't speak, only half hearing the words, her heart on the restof the party, every instant being carried further from her.
"And you must have seen--'pon me word it is impossible that you didn'tsee that--that"--
"Oh, dear," burst out Polly suddenly, and peering anxiously down thewhite winding highway. "If there should be a drift on the road!"
Livingston Bayley bit his lip angrily. "'Pon me word, Miss Mary," hebegan, "you are the first girl I ever cared to speak to, and now youcan't think of anything but the roads."
Still Polly peered into the unbroken whiteness of the thoroughfare,lined by the snow-laden pines and spruces, all inextricably mixed as thesleigh spun by. It was too late to turn back now, she knew; the bestthat could be done, was to hurry on--and she began to count thehoof-beats and to speculate how long it would be before they would seethe lights of the little station, and find the lost party again.
"I might have spoken to a great many other girls," Livingston Bayley wassaying, "and I really don't know why I didn't choose one of them.Another man in my place would, and you must do me the justice toacknowledge it; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary."
Polly tore off her gaze from the snowy fields where the branches of thetrees were making little zigzag paths in the moonlight, to fasten it onas much of his face as was visible between his cap and his high collar.
"And I really shouldn't think you would play with me," declared Mr.Bayley, nervously fingering the whip-handle, "I shouldn't, don't youknow, because you are not the sort of girl to do that thing. 'Pon meword, you're not, Miss Mary."
"I? what do you mean?" cried poor Polly, growing more and morebewildered.
"Why I--I--of course you must know; 'pon me word, you must, Miss Mary,for it began five years ago, before you went abroad, don't you know?"
Polly sank back among her fur robes while he went on.
"And I've done what no other fellow would, I'm sure," he saidincoherently, "in my place, kept constant, don't you know, to one idea.Been with other girls, of course, but only really made up my mind tomarry you. 'Pon me word, I didn't, Miss Mary."
"And you've brought me out, away from the rest of the party, to tell methis," exclaimed Polly, springing forward to sit erect with flashingeyes. "How good of you, Mr. Bayley, to announce your intention to marryme."
"You can't blame me," cried Mr. Bayley in an injured way. "That cad of aLoughead means to speak soon--'pon me word, the fellow does. And I'venever changed my mind about it since I made it up, even when you beganto give music lessons."
"Oh, how extremely kind," cried Polly.
"Don't put it that way," he began deprecatingly. "I couldn't help it,don't you know, for I liked you awfully from the first, and alwaysintended to marry you. You shall have everything in the world that youwant, and go everywhere. And my family, you know, has an _entree_to any society that's worth anything."
"I wouldn't marry you," cried Polly stormily, "if you could give me allthe gold in the world; and as for family," here she sat quite erect withshining eyes, "the Peppers have always been the loveliest people thatever lived--the very loveliest--oh"--she broke off suddenly, startingforward--"there's something on the road; see, Mr. Bayley!"
And spinning along, the horse now making up his mind to get to the depotin time, they both saw a big wagon out of which protruded two or threebags evidently containing apples and potatoes; one of the wheelsdetermining to perform no more service for its master, was restingindependently on the snowy thoroughfare, for horse and driver were gone.
"I beg your pardon," exclaimed Mr. Livingston Bayley suddenly, at sightof this, "for bringing you around here. But how was I to know of thatbeastly wreck?"
"We must get out," said Polly, springing off from her side of thesleigh, "and lead the horse around."
But this was not so easy a matter; for the farmer's wagon had stopped inthe narrowest part of the road, either side shelving off, under itstreacherous covering of snow. At last, after all sorts of ineffectualattempts on Mr. Bayley's part to induce the horse to stir a step, Pollydesperately laid her hand on the bridle. "Let me try," she said. "There,you good creature," patting the horse's nose; "come, that's a dear oldfellow," and they never knew quite how, but in the course of time, theywere all on the other side of the wreck, and Mr. Livingston Bayley washelping her into the sleigh, and showering her with profuse apologiesfor the whole thing.
"Never mind," said Polly, as she saw his distress, "only never say suchperfectly dreadful things to me again. And now, hurry just as fast asyou can, please!"
And presently a swift turn brought the twinkling lights of the littlestation to view, and there was the entire party calling to them as theynow spied their approach, to "Hurry up!" and there also was the train,holding its breath in curbed impatience to be off.
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