“And I'll tell you, Marian, what I am going to do.”  
Mr. King's voice was pitched on a higher key than usual; and extreme determination was expressed in every line of his face. He had met Mrs. Whitney at the foot of the staircase, dressed for paying visits. “Oh, are you going out?” he said, glancing impatiently at her attire. “And I'd just started to speak to you on a matter of great importance! Of the greatest importance indeed!” he repeated irritably, as he stood with one gloved hand resting on the balustrade.
 
“Oh, it's no matter, father,” she replied pleasantly; “if it's really important, I can postpone going for another day, and—”
 
“Really important!” repeated the old gentleman irascibly. “Haven't I just told you it's of the greatest importance? There's no time to be lost; and with my state of health too, it's of the utmost consequence that I shouldn't be troubled. It's very bad for me; I should think you would realize that, Marian.”
 
“I'll tell Thomas to take the carriage directly back,” said Mrs. Whitney stepping to the door. “Or stay, father; I'll just run up and send the children out for a little drive. The horses ought to be used too, you know,” she said lightly, preparing to run up to carry out the changed plan.
 
“Never mind that now,” said Mr. King abruptly. “I want you to give me your attention directly.” And walking towards the library door, getting a fresh accession of impatience with every step, he beckoned her to follow.
 
But his progress was somewhat impeded by little Dick—or rather, little Dick and Prince, who were standing at the top of the stairs to see Mrs. Whitney off. When he saw his mother retrace her steps, supposing her yielding to the urgent entreaties that he was sending after her to stay at home, the child suddenly changed his “Good-byes” to vociferous howls of delight, and speedily began to plunge down the stairs to welcome her.
 
But the staircase was long, and little Dick was in a hurry, and besides, Prince was in the way. The consequence was, nobody knew just how, that a bumping noise struck into the conversation that made the two below in the hall look up quickly, to see the child and dog come rolling over the stairs at a rapid rate.
 
“Zounds!” cried the old gentleman. “Here, Thomas, Thomas!” But as that individual was waiting patiently outside the door on the carriage box, there was small hope of his being in time to catch the boy, who was already in his mother's arms, not quite clear by the suddenness of the whole thing, as to how he came there.
 
“Oh! oh! Dicky's hurt!” cried somebody up above—followed by every one within hearing distance, and all came rushing to the spot to ask a thousand questions all in the same minute.
 
There sat Mrs. Whitney in one of the big carved chairs, with little Dick in her lap, and Prince walking gravely around and around him with the greatest expression of concern on his noble face. Mr. King was storming up and down, and calling on everybody to bring a “bowl of water, and some brown paper; and be quick!” interpolated with showers of blame on Prince for sitting on the stairs, and tripping people up! while Dick meanwhile was laughing and chatting, and enjoying the distinction of making so many people run, and of otherwise being the object of so much attention!
 
“I don't think he was sitting on the stairs, father,” said Jasper, who, when he saw that Dicky was really unhurt, began to vindicate his dog. “He never does that; do you Sir?” he said patting the head that was lifted up to him, as if to be defended.
 
“And I expect we shall all be killed some day, Jasper,” said Mr. King, warming with his subject; and forgetting all about the brown paper and water which he had ordered, and which was now waiting for him at his elbow, “just by that creature.”
 
“He's the noblest—” began Jasper, throwing his arms around his neck; an example which was immediately followed by the Whitney boys, and the two little Peppers. When Dick saw this, he began to struggle to get down to add himself to the number.
 
“Where's the brown paper?” began Mr. King, seeing this and whirling around suddenly. “Hasn't any body brought it yet?”
 
“Here 'tis sir,” said Jane, handing him a generous supply. “Oh, I don't want to,” cried little Dick in dismay, seeing his grandfather advance with an enormous piece of paper, which previously wet in the bowl of water, was now unpleasantly clammy and wet—“oh, no, I don't want to be all stuck up with old horrid wet paper!”
 
“Hush, dear!” said his mamma, soothingly. “Grandpapa wants to put it on—there—” as Mr. King dropped it scientifically on his head, and then proceeded to paste another one over his left eye.
 
“And I hope they'll all drop off,” cried Dick, savagely, shaking his head to facilitate matters. “Yes, I do, every single one of 'em!” he added, with an expression that seen under the brown bits was anything but benign.
 
“Was Prince on the stairs, Dick?” asked Jasper, coming up and peering under his several adornments. “Tell us how you fell!”
 
“No,” said little Dick, crossly, and giving his head another shake. “He was up in the hall—oh, dear, I want to get down,” and he began to stretch his legs and to struggle with so much energy, that two or three pieces fell off, and landed on the floor to his intense delight.
 
“And how did you fall then?” said Jasper, perseveringly. “Can't you remember, Dicky, boy?”
 
“I pushed Princey,” said Dick, feeling, with freedom from some of his encumbrances, more disposed for conversation, “and made him go ahead—and then I fell on top of him—that's all.”
 
“I guess Prince has saved him, father,” cried Jasper, turning around with eyes full of pride and love on the dog, who was trying as hard as he could to tell all the children how much he enjoyed their caresses.
 
And so it all came about that the consultation so summarily interrupted was never held. For, as Mrs. Whitney was about retiring that evening, Mr. King rapped at her door, on his way to bed.
 
“Oh,” he said popping in his head, in response to her invitation to come in, “it's nothing—only I thought I'd just tell you a word or two about what I've decided to do.”
 
“Do you mean what you wanted to see me about this afternoon?” asked Mrs. Whitney, who hadn't thought of it since. “Do come in, father.”
 
“It's no consequence,” said the old gentleman; “no consequence at all,” he repeated, waving his hand emphatically, “because I've made up my mind and arranged all my plans—it's only about the Peppers—”
 
“The Peppers?” repeated Mrs. Whitney.
 
“Yes. Well, the fact of it is, I'm going to have them here for a visit—the whole of them, you understand; that's all there is to it. And I shall go down to see about all the arrangements—Jasper and I—day after to-morrow,” said the old gentleman, as if he owned the whole Pepper family inclusive, and was the only responsible person to be consulted about their movements.
 
“Will they come?” asked Mrs. Whitney, doubtfully.
 
“Come? of course,” said Mr. King, sharply, “there isn't any other way; or else Mrs. Pepper will be sending for her children—and of course you know, Marian, we couldn't allow that—well, that's all; so good night,” and the door closed on his retreating footsteps.
 
And so Polly and Phronsie soon knew that mamsie and the boys were to be invited! And then the grand house, big as it was, didn't seem large enough to contain them.
 
“I declare,” said Jasper, next day, when they had been laughing and planning till they were all as merry as grigs, “if this old dungeon don't begin to seem a little like 'the little brown house,' Polly.”
 
“Twon't,” answered Polly, hopping around on one toe, followed by Phronsie, “till mamsie and the boys get here, Jasper King!”
 
“Well, they'll be here soon,” said Jappy, pleased at Polly's exultation over it, “for we're going to-morrow to do the inviting.”
 
“And Polly's to write a note to slip into Marian's,” said Mr. King, putting his head in at the door. “And if you want your mother to come, child, why, you'd better mention it as strong as you can.”
 
“I'm going to write,” said Phronsie, pulling up after a prolonged skip, all out of breath. “I'm going to write, and beg mamsie dear. Then she'll come, I guess.”
 
“I guess she will,” said Mr. King, looking at her. “You go on, Phronsie, and write; and that letter shall go straight in my coat pocket alone by itself.”
 
“Shall it?” asked Phronsie, coming up to him, “and nobody will take it out till you give it to mamsie?”
 
“No, nobody shall touch it,” said the old gentleman, stooping to kiss the upturned face, “till I put it into her own hand.”
 
“Then,” said Phronsie, in the greatest satisfaction, “I'm going to write this very one minute!” and she marched away to carry her resolve into immediate execution.
 
Before they got through they had quite a bundle of invitations and pleadings; for each of the three boys insisted on doing his part, so that when they were finally done up in an enormous envelope and put into Mr. King's hands, he told them with a laugh that there was no use for Jappy and himself to go, as those were strong enough to win almost anybody's consent.
 
However, the next morning they set off, happy in their hopes, and bearing the countless messages, which the children would come up every now and then to intrust to them, declaring that they had forgotten to put them in the letters.
 
“You'd had to have had an express wagon to carry the letters if you had put them all in,” at last cried Jasper. “You've given us a bushel of things to remember.”
 
“And oh! don't forget to ask Ben to bring Cherry,” cried Polly, the last minute as they were driving off although she had put it in her letter at least a dozen times; “and oh, dear! of course the flowers can't come.”
 
“We've got plenty here,” said Jasper. “You would not know what to do with them, Polly.”
 
“Well, I do wish mamsie would give some to kind Mrs. Henderson, then,” said Polly, on the steps, clasping her hands anxiously, while Jasper told Thomas to wait till he heard the rest of the message, “and to grandma—you know Grandma Bascom; she was so good to us,” she said impulsively. “And, oh! don't let her forget to carry some to dear, dear Dr. Fisher; and don't forget to give him our love, Jappy; don't forget that!” and Polly ran down the steps to the carriage door, where she gazed up imploringly to the boy's face.
 
“I guess I won't,” cried Jasper, “when I think how he saved your eyes, Polly! He's the best fellow I know!” he finished in an impulsive burst.
 
“And don't let mamsie forget to carry some in to good old Mr. and Mrs. Beebe in town—where Phronsie got her shoes, you know; that is, if mamsie can,” she added, remembering how very busy her mother would be.
 
“I'll carry them myself,” said Jasper; “we're going to stay over till the next day, you know.”
 
“O!” cried Polly, radiant as a rose, “will you, really, Jappy? you're so good!”
 
“Yes, I will,” said Jasper, “everything you want done, Polly; anything else?” he asked, quickly, as Mr. King, impatient to be off, showed unmistakable symptoms of hurrying up Thomas.
 
“Oh, no,” said Polly, “only do look at the little brown house, Jasper, as much as you can,” and Polly left the rest unfinished. Jasper seemed to understand, however, for he smiled brightly as he said, looking into the brown eyes, “I'll do it all, Polly; every single thing.” And then they were off.
 
Mamsie and the boys! could Polly ever wait till the next afternoon that would bring the decision?
 
Long before it was possibly time for the carriage to come back from the depot, Polly, with Phronsie and the three boys, who, improving Jasper's absence, had waited upon her with the grace and persistence of cavaliers of the olden time, were drawn up at the old stone gateway.
 
“Oh, dear,” said Van with an impatient fling; “they never will come!”
 
“Won't they, Polly?” asked Phronsie, anxiously, and standing quite still.
 
“Dear me, yes,” said Polly, with a little laugh, “Van only means they'll be a good while, Phronsie. They're sure to come some time.”
 
“Oh!” said Phronsie, quite relieved; and she commenced her capering again in extreme enjoyment.
 
“I'm going,” said little Dick, “to run down and meet them.” Accordingly off he went, and was immediately followed by Percy, who started with the laudable desire of bringing him back; but finding it so very enjoyable, he stayed himself and frolicked with Dick, till the others, hearing the fun, all took hold of hands and flew off to join them.
 
“Now,” said Polly, when they recovered their breath a little, “let's all turn our backs to the road; and the minute we hear the carriage we must whirl round; and the one who sees 'em first can ask first 'Is mamsie coming?”
 
“All right,” cried the boys.
 
“Turn round, Dick,” said Percy, with a little shove, for Dick was staring with all his might right down the road. And so they all flew around till they looked like five statues set up to grace the sidewalk.
 
“Suppose a big dog should come,” suggested Van, pleasantly, “and snap at our backs!”
 
At this little Dick gave a small howl, and turned around in a fright.
 
“There isn't any dog coming,” said Polly. “What does make you say such awful things, Van?”
 
“I hear a noise,” said Phronsie; and so they all whirled around in expectation. But it proved to be only a market wagon coming at a furious pace down the road, with somebody's belated dinner. So they all had to whirl back again as before. The consequence was that when the carriage did come, nobody heard it.
 
Jasper, looking out, was considerably astonished to see, drawn up in solemn array with their backs to the road, five children, who stood as if completely petrified.
 
“What in the world!” he began, and called to Thomas to stop, whose energetic “Whoa!” reaching the ears of the frozen line, caused it to break ranks, and spring into life at an alarming rate.
 
“Oh, is she coming Jappy? Is she? Is she?” they all screamed together, swarming up to the carriage door, and over the wheels.
 
“Yes,” said Jasper looking at Polly.
 
At that, Phronsie made a little che............