Part 15

Alexia seemed to be quite busy flying here and there, doing a little of everything. "I'm glad you did come so early, Clare, after all," she condescended to say, coming up to him in one of those flights, as he was tying an extra rope of laurel.

"Thanks," said Clare. "Well, now, don't you suppose, seeing that you are here, that you can hold that other end for me? 'Twould be a sight easier to tie the thing."

"The very idea!" exclaimed Alexia, backing off. "Now that's just like a boy. Why don't I ask you to come and help me tie laurel strips?"

"Because you never tie them, I've observed," said Clare, composedly.

"Well, it's because I have so many more important things to do," said Alexia. "Anybody can tie a laurel string."

"Can they?" said Clare, laboring away slowly.

"Yes, indeed," and Alexia skipped off, turned, and flew back. "O dear, do give me that old rope," seized the end, and flounced down on the window-seat beside Clare.

"You needn't if you don't want to, Alexia," yet his face brightened. If there was anything Clare hated to do it was to tie festoons.

"Oh, yes, I will," said Alexia. "You boys do anything without asking the girls to help. Here, let me tie for a while, and you hold."

"Oh, you don't want to do that," said Clare, in amazement.

"Yes, I do; it's stupid to hang on to an old rope and sit still. Besides, I can tie ever so much better than you," said Alexia, possessing herself of Clare's handful.

"I don't doubt it," said Clare, bursting into a laugh, "though I never saw you tie one in my life."

"Oh, that's because we have to leave something for you boys to do," said Alexia, nowise put out, but tying away at a great rate. "Polly and I have much more important things to do, as I've always told you. Here, why don't you bunch for me?"

"But I've seen Polly tie wreaths and ropes ever so many times--oh, a hundred, I guess," said Clare, beginning to bunch for the long fingers.

"Oh, well, Polly does everything," said Alexia, easily. "O dear me! Here's Cathie--and--all the other girls!" With that down went the green festoon to the floor, while she rushed to the door.

Clare picked up the dangling thing, made a grimace, and set to work again, while the bustle and happy hum of voices became quite a babel.

"Now isn't that fine that you have come!" cried Polly, affectionately, and flying around the bevy of girls. "You see we've got to hurry so much because we want to get the new wreaths and festoons up before Jasper comes down."

"So we'd better set about it," said Ben, in his practical fashion. "Now then, Cathie, suppose you help Polly, she's--"

"Oh, no, I'm going to help Polly," cried Alexia, edging up between the two girls.

"Why, I thought you were helping Clare a minute ago, and he hasn't finished," said Ben, in surprise.

"Oh, that stupid boy," cried Alexia, running her arm through Polly's, "he never will be done."

"Well, that's all the more reason why you should help him out then," said Ben, with a laugh. "Now, Cathie, you're to help Polly," he finished, just as if the most agreeable thing were being said for all hands.

Alexia gave him a long look, then drew her arm slowly away from Polly's and went back to Clare.

"I don't see how Ben Pepper always makes us do what he wants us to," she grumbled, throwing herself into a seat beside Clare. "Do give me that horrid old thing and let's get through with it."

"Oh, are you back again?" said Clare.

"Yes, but I shouldn't be," declared Alexia, positively, and beginning to bunch furiously, "if Ben hadn't made me. You are so stupid and slow, Clare."

"Thanks," said Clare, tying slowly. "Well, don't throw the bunches at me, they get all mixed up that way."

"And you are so cross," said Alexia, breaking off little twigs of the laurel with nervous fingers, "that I can't suit you any way, and here I am working my fingers to the bone for you."

"Would you rather tie?" asked Clare, trying not to laugh at her face.

Alexia eyed the long festoon with a dubious gaze. "No, I shouldn't. Oh, I'll keep on at this if it kills me."

"Oh, Jasper!" It was Ben who shouted it, and sprang to welcome him. And then, for the space of a minute, there was no more work done, while everybody crowded around to see Jasper fixed in a big easy-chair at the side of the long room, where he could get the best view of everything. Suddenly a small figure emerged from a heap of greens in the corner, where some thin little fingers had been picking out sprigs for the busy hands to weave into wreaths.

"Hullo, Pip!" cried Jasper, putting out a warm hand, as Pip sidled up, "now that's good to see you," throwing his arm around the thin shoulders. "Having a good time, Pip?" and he bent his head for the reply.

"Yes," said Pip, "I am."

"Now that's fine," declared Jasper, again. "Well, fly back to work," and he gave him a pat on the back.

Pip sidled off again and lost himself in the pile of greens.

"Miss Polly, they've come," announced Jane, opening the playroom door, and advancing to Polly.

"Who?" asked Polly, holding a wreath for Ben to nail up over the little window--"not that way, a little more this other side," she said, as Ben placed the nail in. "Who, Jane?"

"Why, those poor children at Mrs. Van Ruypen's," said Jane.

"What? Oh, you don't mean they've come this morning!" exclaimed Polly, quite aghast, and dropping the wreath.

"Now something has happened," cried Alexia, dropping the little bunch of laurel. "I must see what it is," and she sprang off.

"Polly, don't look so," she begged. "What is it?"

Ben sat down on the step-ladder, having heard Polly's exclamation, but missing Jane's words. "What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, Ben, those dreadful children have come over this morning," cried Polly, aghast and quite swept along, "to spoil all our fun."

Ben stepped down quickly. "Is that so, Jane?" he asked.

"They shan't come in," cried Alexia, vindictively, and running over to slam the playroom door.

"Alexia," called Ben, "come right straight back here."

"Well, Polly doesn't want them," grumbled Alexia, yet she came back.

"Never mind if they do come in," said Ben, laying a soothing hand on Polly's shoulder. "What harm will they do, Polly?"

"They'll spoil every bit of our fun," said Polly, with flashing brown eyes--"every single bit; you know they will, Ben, and that Elvira--oh, they _can't_ come in!"

"There, you see," said Alexia, beginning to wring her hands. "You'd much better let me shut the door and keep them out, Ben Pepper."

"Polly," said Ben, and he turned her off to a quiet corner, "perhaps they have never seen a Christmas tree. Why, what am I talking about?--we _know_ they haven't."

"Well, they are coming to it to-night," said Polly, the flash dying down a bit, "and that's enough, I'm sure," she added obstinately.

"But the fun of getting ready! Oh, Polly, supposing--supposing somebody had come into the little brown house and asked us to come to help get a tree ready. Just think, Polly!"

Polly dug the toe of her shoe into a heap of greens, then she suddenly threw her arms around Ben's neck. "Oh, I'm a selfish pig, Ben," she cried. "Do let them come in."

Ben gave her an approving pat. "Now you're fine!" he said. "Come on, we'll call them in," taking her hand.

"Oh, now you've gone and made Polly let those dreadful children in," cried Alexia, nervously, envious that she was not to go too, as they ran by her.

"Jasper," said Ben, as they passed his chair, "it's the mountain children; they're waiting outside now. We're going to have them in to help us."

"Whew!" whistled Jasper. Then he added in delight, "The very thing I wanted most of all was to see those mountain children. Do hurry and fetch them."

Which urging was not in the least necessary as soon appeared--Elvira, in her smart blue gown, clear in advance of either Polly or Ben. She pushed her straight locks out of her eyes and gazed around, wholly unabashed.

"Hulloa, Viry!" called Joel, in delight, from the other end of the room. But she paid no attention to him, as she had not completed her gaze to suit her.

"I'm awful glad you've come," said Joel, springing off the chair on which he was standing, holding a festoon for Pickering to nail in place.

"Here, come back, you beggar," cried Pickering.

"We're having awful fun," announced Joel, coming up to her and sticking out a grimy little paw, all resin and pitch from the branches of pine he had been breaking. His face was smeared as well.

"You're awful dirty," said Elvira, picking the blue gown away as if she feared contamination.

"Well, it's fun, I tell you," said Joel, not a whit nonplussed. "Come on with me," attempting to draw her off to Pickering and the deserted chair.

"I ain't a-goin'," said Elvira, twitching off. "An' I'll slap you if you don't go 'way."

Meantime Ben had charge of the two boys. Matthew wore his overcoat and beloved red tippet (which Madam Van Ruypen had hard work to make him discard in the house) wound around his head and ears. "Now, Jasper," and Ben led them up to the big easy-chair, "this is Matthew and this is Mark Hansell."

"Oh, how do you do?" said Jasper, sociably. "I'm glad to see you."

Matthew bobbed his head, bound up in the red tippet, solemnly, but Mark was too far gone in amazement at the scene before him to do anything but stare.

"Now, Elvira," said Polly, going up to her, where she stood glaring at Joel, who still persisted in his sociable advances, "you come with me," and she put out her hand.

"I ain't a-goin' to," declared Elvira, stubbornly, and putting her hands back of her.

"Oh, you bad, wicked, awful girl!" cried Alexia, hovering near.

"Elvira," said Polly, and there was a little white line coming around her mouth, "you will come with me, or else you must go home."

"Not to stay with that great big lady," said Elvira, in dismay, her hands falling to her side and her face filling with terror.

"Yes, you surely must," said Polly, decidedly, "go right back and stay with Madam Van Ruypen, unless you do as I say."

"Oh, then I'll go with you." Elvira slipped her hand into Polly's, made a final grimace at Joel, who, dreadfully disappointed, went back alone to Pickering.

"So this is Elvira," said Jasper, looking at her kindly. She didn't seem to see the hand he put forth.

"What you sittin' there for?" she demanded abruptly.

"Oh--well--they make me," said Jasper, with a little laugh.

"He's been sick, Elvira," Polly made haste to say. "Now come, child, you can help me."

"I don't want to. I'm goin' to stay here," said Elvira, laying a hand on Jasper's chair.

"Elvira!" Polly got no further, but it really wasn't necessary, for she went without further words.

"Polly, make her come over and help me," called Joel, from his chair.

"No, she is going to stay with me," said Polly, but she gave a sigh.

Pip, who had raised his head at entrance of the visitors, ducked it behind the pile of greens at sight of Elvira. And now he shivered as her thin, high voice piped out, "Where's that other boy?"

"The boys are all here," said Polly, absently, as indeed they were, even little Dick, who was happy with Phronsie in a quiet corner, tying little wreaths for one of her doll houses.

"Oh, I don't mean these boys," said Elvira, waving her thin arms scornfully around the roomful. "They're no good. Where's that other boy that was at supper last night?" she craned her neck to catch the sight she desired.

"She means Pip," said Alexia. Pip, at hearing his name, unguardedly raised his head.

"There he is! There he is!" exclaimed Elvira, joyfully. And, deserting Polly, she rushed over to the pile of greens. "I'm goin' to play with you," she said.

But Pip slipped nimbly out and was over by the step-ladder and scrambling up.

"Take her away," he howled, burrowing up to Ben. "Ow! Take her away!"

Polly rushed over to the pile of greens.

"He ran away," cried Elvira, with flashing eyes, "an' I had come to play with him."

"Elvira," said Polly, getting down on her knees to look into the angry eyes, "what did I tell you? Either you will mind what I say or Ben will take you right over to Madam Van Ruypen's. Which shall it be?"

For answer Elvira seized Polly's brown gown with both hands and sniffled into it, "Oh, don't send me to that big old woman. Don't, don't, don't!"

"Then will you let Pip alone?" said Polly, sternly.

"Yes, yes," mumbled Elvira.

"Very well, then come back with me," and Polly led her over to the work with Ben.

But as Pip would not come down from the step-ladder unless Ben brought him, and even then he had eyes of terror for Elvira, there was some delay before the wreath over the lattice window could be hung up. Meantime, Jasper was getting on famously with Matthew and Mark, who were soon tying wreaths, one on either side of him.

"You'd better take off your tippet, Matthew," said Jasper at length, seeing the drops of perspiration roll down the red cheeks.

"Oh, I ain't hot," said Matthew, pulling the green string tight with strong fingers.

"Dear me," said a voice, strong-lunged and hearty, "this looks very comfortable."

"Oh, she's come!" Elvira dropped a green sprig she was holding for Polly and seized her gown. There stood Madam Van Ruypen surveying the roomful with an air of the greatest satisfaction on her face.

"Get her a chair, Ben," cried Polly. "Elvira," shaking herself free, "if you don't behave, you remember," and she hurried off to greet the visitor.

"Well, this is quite comfortable," repeated the old lady, first going up to speak to Jasper, and then sitting down in the chair that Ben brought, wiping it off carefully on the way.

"She looks like a big polar bear," said Alexia, in a whisper to Clare, to whom she had flown up again, and was now bunching rapidly. "Dear me, I don't see how she can stand so many furs and things."

"Well, she's taking them off, now," said Clare. "See, Ben's helping her."

"She thinks there's nobody like Ben," said Alexia, diving on the floor for a specially nice green bit.

"Well, there isn't," said Clare, holding up his festoon to squint along its outline. "I do believe this is almost done, Alexia."

"Well, I should think it was quite time," said Alexia, stretching her long arms restfully back of her head. "You've been so awfully slow over it, Clare."

"Yes, I do believe it is," repeated Clare, in a joyous tone.

"And if that old woman is going to stay here all the morning," said Alexia, "I shall just die. 'Twould be too awful for anything, Clare."

"She wouldn't hurt you," said Clare, tying away with redoubled vigor at the delightful prospect of soon having it through; "and if Polly and Ben can stand it, I guess you and I can."

"Well, I'm going to turn my back on her," said Alexia, whirling around so that her light braids flew out, "then I shan't have to see her every minute."

"Yes," Madam Van Ruypen was saying, "I thought I'd bring over a few things that were forgotten for the tree, you know," pointing to its white shrouded outline with her long black glove. "They're out in the carriage, Ben. Will you tell Carson to bring them in?"

"What's she saying? Oh, what's she saying?" cried Alexia, wildly, and whirling about again till her braids flew out the other way like pump handles.

"I thought you didn't want to see her," Clare burst out into a laugh.

"Oh, this is different; she's telling something, and she doesn't sit up like a great, stiff I-don't-know-what," said Alexia. Then she hopped up from her seat and ran over to the old lady's chair.

"Yes, and I have something I'm going to bring over to-night," Madam Van Ruypen was announcing, as Ben and Carson, the coachman, came in, their arms laden with bundles of all shapes and sizes, all carefully wrapped from curious eyes.

"Ow!" howled Joel, taking a flying leap from his chair. "Come on, Pip, she's got things!"

"I sent for that minister, Mr. What's-his-name--oh, St. John," the old lady was saying. "It will be a good thing for him to have a bit of city life, and he can help to manage these children," she waved her black gloves over to the two boys, but gave the most attention to Elvira after all, "till I get a little accustomed to them. And he's to get here this afternoon; so I'll bring him over to the tree to-night, Ben."

XXII

AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE

And the young minister came hurrying down on the mountain express train, reaching there in the "very nick of time," as Madam Van Ruypen observed. She was thus able to appear with him at the grand dinner at the King household, where she was to preside at one of the small round tables, for the big state dining table was to be discarded for this Christmas night, and the assembled company were to meet around little tables; this had been decided upon after an important conference held by Grandpapa, Aunty Whitney, and Polly.

So now, much to her great satisfaction, Madam Van Ruypen looked around, as she sat up, resplendent in black velvet, lace, and gems, in her little company. There was the young minister--of course he had the seat on her right hand. Ben, equally of course, had the other side, and, as long as Ben was there, why, Polly must be; and then there was Jasper. Well, everybody wanted him, but he said, "Oh, I'll sit with Polly and Ben;" so he had a particularly soft and easy seat, with sofa cushions piled back of him, for it would be truly dreadful if he should get too tired! And then Alexia sat down before anybody asked her, and she looked so horror-stricken at the idea of being at any other table than the one where Polly Pepper sat, that Madam Van Ruypen laughed and said indulgently, "Oh, let her stay," for which Alexia loved her ever after.

And then Pickering Dodge was discovered in a corner, with such a longing eye that Polly cried out in the kindness of her heart,--

"Oh, do let Pick come to this table," so there he was, and that made seven.

"A very comfortable number," observed Madam Van Ruypen, shaking out her napkin with a happy hand, so that all the jewels on her fingers fell to trembling and shining at a great rate. Just then Pip rushed up and flung himself against Ben's chair, holding on with excited fingers.

"Let me, Ben," he cried, "sit with you!" his little pale face all aglow.

"Oh, we can't have that boy," said Madam Van Ruypen, decidedly.

Ben's ruddy face went quite pale. "I wish we might," he said, fixing his blue eyes on the Roman nose and white puffs.

"Oh, no, indeed," said Madam Van Ruypen, shaking the big white puffs more decidedly yet. "You see for yourself there are seven seats. Any more would be quite uncomfortable."

"I don't need so much room," said Ben, shoving his chair.

"Nor I," said Jasper. "Dear me, it isn't necessary that I have this great big thing. It's that which takes up so much room."

"Oh, yes, you do, Jasper," said Polly, quite alarmed at his efforts to move; "you must keep that chair, at any rate."

Ben looked over at Pickering in great trouble. Meantime he held Pip's nervous fingers fast.

"I don't see," said Pickering, swallowing something that seemed to choke in his throat, "why we can't all move up, just a bit, you know," beginning on his own chair--"or else, why, I'll quit and go to another table."

"Oh, no, you shan't, Pick," declared Jasper, "not a bit of it;" he looked so distressed at the mere thought that Polly beseechingly raised her eyes to the stately, forbidding old face.

"Oh, if you all like to be crowded," said the old lady, meeting Polly's brown eyes, "why, I am sure I don't care." So, the butler bringing a small chair, Pip crowded in next to Ben, and everything was merry once more.

And the young minister proved to be quite nice, and Madam Van Ruypen fairly beamed at him as the feast went on. And Pickering Dodge and he struck up quite a friendship across the table, and even made plans for a skating match on the morrow.

"Now tell me," at last said the old lady, when the talk ran a bit low, "what can I do with the boys? And that girl--" she glanced to the end of the room, where Elvira, despite her disappointment at not being at Joel's table, was comforting herself as best she might by giving undivided attention to a chicken wing, which she held in both fingers.

"You better send them to school," said Mr. St. John, quickly. "And just as soon as you can get them there."

"Will the mother allow it?" asked the old lady, brightening up.

"Will she allow it? My dear madam," the minister straightened up and forgot how afraid of her he was, when she sat, a formidable figure in the little mountain church of a summer Sunday, and how very much he had disliked her, albeit her generous contributions whenever the plate went around--and now he smiled broadly, "if you could only have seen her when that box--"

"Never mind that," said Madam Van Ruypen, abruptly, and waving her hand with authority. "The question is, Will she allow me to send these children to school?"

"I think there's no doubt about it," said Mr. St. John, determined to find his own way to tell the story as he wanted it to appear. "Well, as I was saying, that cabin--why, we didn't any of us know what that poor woman was suffering. I blame myself," his head dropped and he drummed on the table with his fingers.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the old lady, "you're not to blame." Then she added, with a remembrance of the summers spent in the mountain nook, "I'm sure I should have known."

"My dear madam," exclaimed the young minister, very much shocked to think that in the face of all her generosity he should have thrust a question for reproach, "you have been so very good, and have saved them all."

"Perhaps so," said the old lady, grimly. "But it wouldn't have been a bad idea if it had happened earlier, I'm thinking."

"But just think, if it hadn't gone to them just when it did," continued the young minister, determined to have the benefaction receive its full measure of appreciation. "Why, that poor mother was hurrying down to tell the selectman she could do nothing more,--the children were starving, and he must take them to the poorhouse,--when she met John Bramble, the expressman, you know, with the box in his cart."

Madam Van Ruypen laid down her fork and made a violent effort to get her handkerchief out of the velvet and jet bag that dangled from her waist. As for Polly and the others, they never thought of eating, but listened, with their eyes fastened on the young minister's face.

"I never supposed it was as bad as that," said the old lady, brokenly; at last, with her fingers on her handkerchief, beginning to feel a little bit better.

"Nor did any of us," said Mr. St. John. "Why, John Bramble hasn't got over it yet. And I don't know that he ever will. Well, the misery is over now, thanks to you."

"All the thanks necessary to be expressed," said Madam Van Ruypen, quite recovering herself and laying a hand on Ben's arm, to pull him forward into notice, "are due to this lad here."

Ben slunk back covered with confusion, and wished for nothing quite so much as to roll under the table quite out of sight. Seeing which Jasper spoke up: "Oh, it would be fine to have them go to school, wouldn't it?" and diverted attention so that it gave Ben time to breathe freely once more.

"Yes, indeed," said the minister; "it would be the making of them. And then that would give you a chance to have Luke and Matilda and Jane come down for a visit, maybe," and he laughed--he couldn't help it--at the face before him.

"I think not," said the old lady, dryly. "At least for a spell, until I get a little rested from Elvira," and then they all laughed. But the main thing was settled: the mountain children were to go to school.