Phronsie came into the Higby kitchen, her hands full of wind-blossoms and nodding trilliums.
"Pickering will like these," she said to herself in great satisfaction, and surveying her torn frock
with composure, "for they are the very first, Mrs. Higby," addressing that individual standing1 over
by the sink in the corner. "Please may I wash my hands? I had to go clear far down by the brook2 to
get them."
But Mrs. Higby, instead of answering, threw her brown-checked apron3 high over her head.
Phronsie stood quite still.
"Why do you put your apron there, Mrs. Higby?" she asked at last. "And you do not answer me at
all," she added in gentle reproach.
"Land!" exclaimed Mrs. Higby, in a voice spent with feeling, "I couldn't, 'cause I was afraid I sh'd
burst out crying, and I didn't want you to see my face. O, dear! he's had a poor spell since you
went out flowerin' for him, and your pa and Dr. Bryce say he's dyin'. O, dear!"
Down came the apron, showing Mrs. Higby's eyelids4 very red and swollen5.
Phronsie still stood holding her flowers, a breathing-space, then turned and went quickly to the
back stairs.
"Sh! don't go," called Mrs. Higby in a loud whisper after her; "it's dreadful for a little girl like you
to see any one die. Do come back."
"They will want me," said Phronsie gravely, and going up carefully without another word. When
she reached Pickering's door, she paused a moment and looked in.
"I don't believe it is as Mrs. Higby said," she thought, drawing a long breath, a faint smile coming
to her face as she went gently in.
But old Mr. King put up his hand as he turned in his chair, at the foot of the bed, and Phronsie saw
that his face was white and drawn6. And Dr. Bryce turned also, looking off a minute from the watch
that he held, as if he were going to bid her go away.
[Illustration: "WHY DO YOU PUT YOUR APRON UP THERE?" ASKED PHRONSIE IN
GENTLE REPROACH. ]
"Phronsie," said Grandpapa, holding out both arms hungrily.
Phronsie hurried to him, a gathering7 fear at her heart, and getting into his lap, laid her cheek
against his.
"Oh! my dear, you oughtn't to be here--you are too young," said Mr. King brokenly, yet holding
her close.
"I am not afraid, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, her mouth to his ear, "and I think Pickering would
like me to be here. I brought him some flowers." She moved the hand holding the bunch, so that
the old gentleman could see it. "He likes wild flowers, and I promised to get the first ones I could."
"O, dear!" groaned9 old Mr. King, not trusting himself to look.
"May I lay them down by him?" whispered Phronsie.
"Yes, yes, child," said the old gentleman, allowing her to slip to the floor. The group around the
bedside parted to let her pass, and then Phronsie saw Polly. Mrs. Cabot was holding Polly's well
hand, while her head was on Polly's shoulder.
"Grandpapa said I might," said Phronsie softly to the two, and pointing to her flowers.
"Yes, dear."
It was Polly who answered; Mrs. Cabot was crying so hard she could not speak a word.
Phronsie's little heart seemed to stop beating as she reached the bedside. She had not thought that
she would be afraid, but it was so different to be standing there looking down upon the pillow
where Pickering lay so still and white, and with closed eyes, looking as if he had already gone
away from them. She glanced up in a startled way and saw Dr. Fisher at the head of the bed; he
was holding Pickering's wrist. "Yes," he motioned, "put them down."
So Phronsie laid down her blossoms near the poor white face, and stole back quickly, only
breathing freely when she was as close to Polly as she could creep, without hurting the broken
arm.
"I'm dying--I'm not afraid," suddenly said Pickering's white lips. Dr. Fisher sprang and put a
spoonful of stimulant10 to them, while Mrs. Cabot buried her face yet deeper on Polly's shoulder, her
husband turning on his heel, to pace the floor and groan8. "Polly, Polly!" called Pickering quite
distinctly, in a tone of anguish11.
"O, Polly, Polly! he's dying--go to him do!" Mrs. Cabot tore her hand out of Polly's, almost
pushing her from the chair. "Quick, dear!"
Polly put Phronsie aside, and stepped softly to the bedside; Pickering's eyes eagerly watched for
her face.
He smiled up at her, "Polly," and tried to raise his hand.
She laid her warm, soft palm on the cold one lying on the coverlid. He clasped his thin fingers
convulsively around it.
"I am here, Pickering," said Polly, unable to find voice for anything else.
"Don't--ever--leave me," she could just make out the words, bending close to catch them.
"I never will," said Polly quietly.
A sudden gleam came into his face, and he tried to smile, grasping her hand tighter as his eyes
closed.
"It has come," said Dr. Fisher in a low voice to Mr. Cabot; "tell your wife," and he bent12 a
professional ear over the white face on the pillow, while Dr. Bryce hurried forward; then brought
his head up quickly, a peculiar13 light in the sharp eyes back of the spectacles. "He is sleeping!"
* * * * *
Polly was sitting, a half-hour by the bedside, Pickering's thin fingers still tightly grasping her hand.
They had made her comfortable in an easy chair, Jasper bringing one of Mrs. Higby's biggest
cushions for her to lean her head against. He now stood at the side of her chair, Phronsie curled up
on the floor at her feet.
"Don't stay." Polly's lips seemed to frame the words rather than speak them, looking up at him.
He shook his head, resting his hand on the back of the chair. Polly tried to smile up a bit of
comfort into his eyes. "Jasper loved Pickering so," she said to herself, "that he cannot leave him;
but oh! he looks so dreadfully, I wish he would go and rest," and she began to have a worried look
at once.
"What is it?" asked Jasper, catching14 the look at once, and bending to whisper in her ear.
"You will be sick if you do not go and rest," whispered back Polly.
"I cannot--don't ask it." Jasper brought the words out sharply, with just a bitter tone to them.
"He thinks it is strange that I ask it; he is so fond of Pickering," said Polly to herself. "And now I
have grieved him--O, dear!"
"I won't leave Pickering," she said, lifting her brown eyes quickly.
A spasm15 came over Jasper's face, and his brow contracted.
"Don't," he begged, and Polly could feel that the hand resting on the back of the chair grasped it so
tightly that it shook beneath her.
"I ought to have remembered that Jasper couldn't leave him; he loves him so," mourned Polly.
"Oh! why did I speak?"
In the room at the end of the hall Mrs. Cabot was excitedly walking the floor, twisting her
handkerchief between her nervous fingers, and talking unrestrainedly to Charlotte Chatterton.
"I do believe this will melt Polly's heart," she cried. "Oh! it must, it must! Don't you think it must,
Miss Chatterton?"
"I don't know what you mean," said Charlotte Chatterton in a collected manner, as she bent over
the cradle to tuck the shawl over Johnny's legs where he had kicked it off in his sleep.
"Oh! you know quite well what I mean, Miss Chatterton," declared Mrs. Cabot, in her distress16
losing her habitually17 polite manner. "Why, everybody knows that Pickering has loved Polly since
they were boy and girl together."
Not knowing what was expected of her, Charlotte Chatterton wisely kept silent.
"And now, why, it's just a Providence18, I do believe--that is, if he gets well--that brought all this
about, for of course Polly must be touched by it. She must!" brought up Mrs. Cabot quite
jubilantly.
And this time she waited for Charlotte to speak, at last exclaiming, "Don't you see it must be so?"
"I think love goes where it is sent," said Charlotte slowly.
"Sent? Well, that is just it. Isn't it sent here?" cried Mrs. Cabot impatiently.
"I don't know," said Charlotte. Then she said distinctly, "I know love is very different from pity"--
"Of course it is--but then, sometimes it isn't," said Mrs. Cabot nervously19. "Well, any way, Polly
has almost as good as promised to marry Pickering," she finished triumphantly--"so--and you are
very cruel to talk to me in this way, Miss Chatterton."
Charlotte Chatterton turned away from Johnny and faced Mrs. Cabot. "You don't mean to say you
think Polly would feel bound by what she said when we all thought he was dying?"
"I do, certainly--knowing Polly as I do--if Pickering took it so. And I am quite sure he will say so
when he gets well; quite sure. Polly isn't a girl to break her word," added Mrs. Cabot confidently.
"Then I'm sure Providence hasn't had anything to do with this," said Charlotte shortly, "and Polly
shall never be tormented20 into thinking it her duty either," and she turned off to pick up a new gown
"in the works" for Johnny.
"What you think duty, Miss Chatterton, wouldn't be Polly Pepper's idea of duty in the least," said
Mrs. Cabot, getting back into the refuge of her society manner again, now that her confidence in
Polly grew every moment, "so we will talk no more about it if you please," she added icily, as she
went toward the door. "Only mark my words, my dear boy and that dear girl will be engaged, and
quite the appropriate match it will be too, and please every one."
* * * * *
"You must go back, my boy," said old Mr. King two days later. "It's just knocking you up to stay,"
studying Jasper's face keenly. "Goodness me! I should think you'd fallen off a dozen pounds. Upon
my word I should, my boy," he repeated with great concern.
"Never mind me, father," said Jasper a trifle impatiently, "and as to my work, Mr. Marlowe will
give me a few more days. He's goodness itself. I shall telegraph him this morning for an
extension."
"You will do nothing of the kind," declared Mr. King testily21. "What can you do here, pray tell, by
staying? You would be quite a muff in a few more days, Jasper," he added, "you are so down-
hearted now. No, I insist that you go now."
"Very well," said Jasper quite stiffly, "I will take myself off by the afternoon train, then, father,
since I am in the way."
"How you talk, Jasper!" cried his father in astonishment22. "You know quite well that I am only
thinking of your own good. What's got into you--but I suppose this confounded hospital we're in,
has made you lose your head."
"Thank you, father," said Jasper, recovering himself by a great effort, "for putting it so, and I beg
you to forgive me for my hasty words." He came up to the old gentleman and put out his hand
quickly, "Do forgive me, father."
"Forgive you? Of course I will, though I don't know when you've spoken to me like that, Jasper,"
said his father, not yet able to shake himself free from his bewilderment. "Well, well, that's enough
to say about that," seeing Jasper's face, "and now get back to your work, my boy, as soon as you
can, and you'll thank me for sending you off. And as soon as Pickering Dodge23 is able to be moved
home, why, the rest of us will finish our trip, and give you that surprise party--eh, Jasper?" and Mr.
King tried to laugh in the old way, but it was pretty hard work.
* * * * *
"Well, now, Polly," said Dr. Fisher, a week after as he held her at arm's length, and brought his
spectacles to bear upon her face, "remember what I say, child; you are to take care of yourself, and
let Mrs. Cabot look out for things. It will do the woman good to have something to do," he added,
dropping his voice. "I don't like to carry home your face, child; it won't do; you're getting tired out,
and your mother will be sure to find it out. I really ought to stay and take care of you," and the
little doctor began to look troubled at once.
"Indeed, Papa Fisher," cried Polly, brightening up, "you will do nothing of the kind. Why, my arm
is doing famously. You know you said you never saw a broken arm behave so well in all your
life."
"It isn't your arm, Polly, that worries me," said Father Fisher; "that's first-rate, and I shouldn't
wonder if it turned out better perhaps for breaking, but it's something different, and it quite puzzles
me; you look so down-hearted, child."
"Do I?" said Polly, standing quite straight, and rubbing her forehead with her well hand; "there,
now, I will get the puckers24 and wrinkles out. There, Papa Fisher, are they all gone?" She smiled as
cheerily as ever, but the little man shook his head, then took off his spectacles, wiped them, and set
them back on his nose.
"No; it won't do; you can't make your old father believe but what you've something on your mind,
Polly. I think I shall have to send your mother down here," he said suddenly.
"O, Father Fisher!" cried Polly, the color flying over her face, "you wouldn't ever do that, I am
sure! Why, it would worry Mamsie so, and besides she can't leave King Fisher"--
He interrupted her as she clung to his arm. "I know that, but what can I do? If you'd only promise
now, Polly," he added artfully, "that you won't tire yourself all out trying to suit Mrs. Cabot's
whims--why, I'd think about taking back what I said about sending your mother down."
"Oh! I won't--I won't," promised Polly gladly. "And now, dear Papa Fisher, you'll take it all back,
won't you?" she begged.
"Yes," said Dr. Fisher, glad to see Polly's color back again, and to have her beg him for some
favor. So the next half-hour or so they were very cheery--just like old times; just as if there had
been no sickness and the shadow of a loss upon them in the past days.
"Though why we should be always acting25 as if we were in the midst of it now, I don't see," said
the little doctor at last. "We're all straightened out, thank God, and Pickering mending so fast that
he's a perfect marvel26. It would be a sin and a shame for us to be in the dumps forever. Well, now,
Polly, remember. Whew! hear that youngster!" This last being brought out by Johnny's lusty
shouts in the next room. "I don't envy Mrs. Fargo her bargain, and I do pity myself having to see
him safely there."
"Oh! Charlotte will take all the care of him," said Polly quickly. "She's just beautiful with him;
you don't know how beautiful, Papa Fisher, because you've been so busy, since you've been here,
and Charlotte has kept him away from everybody so he needn't worry any one. And isn't it lovely
that he is to have such a beautiful home?" added Polly with shining eyes.
"Um--yes, for Johnny," said Dr. Fisher. "Well, good-by, Polly." He gathered her up in his arms for
a final kiss. "Oh! here's Charlotte come to bid you good-by, too."
"Polly," said Charlotte, drawing her off to a quiet corner, as the little doctor went away, leaving the
two girls together, "I must say something, and I don't know how to say it."
Polly looked at her with wide eyes.
"It's just this," said Charlotte, plunging27 on desperately28; "Polly, don't let Mrs. Cabot pick at you and
talk about duty. Oh! I hate to hear her speak the word," exploded Charlotte, with a volume of
wrath29 in her tone.
"What do you mean, Charlotte?" cried Polly in a puzzled way.
"Oh! she may--never mind how--she's quite peculiar, you know," said Charlotte, finding her way
less clear with each word. "Never mind, Polly; only just fight her if she begins on what is your
duty; if she does, then fight her tooth and nail."
"But it may be something that I really ought to do," said Polly.
Charlotte turned on her in horror. "O, never!" she cried. "Don't you do it, Polly Pepper. Just as sure
as she says you ought to do it, you may know it would be the worst thing in all the world. Promise
me, Polly, that you won't do it."
"But, Charlotte, I ought not to promise until I am quite sure that it wouldn't be my duty to do what
Mrs. Cabot advises. Don't you see, Charlotte, that I ought not to promise?"
But Charlotte was too far gone in anxiety to see anything, and she could only reiterate30, "Do
promise, Polly, do; there's Mr. Higby calling us; the carriage is at the door. Do, Polly! I never will
ask you anything else if you'll only promise me this."
But Polly could only shake her head, and say, "I ought not," and then Johnny had to be kissed and
wrenched31 from Phronsie, who insisted on carrying him downstairs to set him in the carriage, and
Mrs. Cabot came in, and old Mr. King wanted a last word with Charlotte, so that at last she was in
Mr. Higby's carryall, shut in on the back seat looking out over Johnny's head, with a pair of very
hopeless eyes. But her lips said, "Do, Polly!"
And still Polly, on the flat door-stone, had to shake her head.
"I shall tell Mrs. Fisher, and beg her to come right down here," determined32 Charlotte Chatterton to
herself, "just as soon as I get in the house. That is exactly what I shall do," she declared savagely33,
as Mr. Higby whipped up the mare34 for the quarter-mile drive to the little station.
点击
收听单词发音
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1
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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2
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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3
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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4
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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5
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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6
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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7
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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8
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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9
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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10
stimulant
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| n.刺激物，兴奋剂 | |
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11
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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12
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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13
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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14
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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15
spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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16
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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17
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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18
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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19
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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20
tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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21
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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22
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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23
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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24
puckers
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的第三人称单数 ) | |
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25
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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26
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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27
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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28
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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29
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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30
reiterate
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| v.重申，反复地说 | |
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31
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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32
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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33
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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34
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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