"Very true, for a period of time," said Miss Parrott throwing her black-figured lace veil, worn by her mother before her, away from her face.

"Well, now, Pastor, it is not appropriate for you to do this work, with your hands already overburdened. Neither should you bear the expense----"

"But I don't," cried Parson Henderson, guilty now of interrupting. "Mr.

King pays me, and well, for teaching the little girl until she will be ready for the district school. You see, she has never been in a schoolroom in her life, and it would be cruel to put her with children of her own age, when she is so ignorant. But she is singularly bright, and I have the greatest hopes of her, madam, for she is far above and beyond most children in many ways."

But Miss Parrott hadn't come to hear all this, so she gave a stately bow.

"No doubt, Pastor, but I must say what is on my mind. It is that I have for some time wanted to do a bit of charity like this, and Providence now seems to point the way for it. I would like to take the child and do for her. Let her come to you here, for lessons, but let me bring her up in my house."

There was an awful pause. Parson Henderson looked at his wife, but said never a word, helplessly leaving it to her.

"Dear Miss Parrott," said Mrs. Henderson, and she so far forgot her fear of the stately, reserved parishioner as to lay her hand on the black-mitted one of the visitor, "we were given the care of the child by Mr. King, who rescued her from her terrible surroundings, and we couldn't possibly surrender this charge to another. But I will tell you what we might do, husband," and her eyes sought his face. "Rachel might go down now and then to spend the day with Miss Parrott. Oh, your beautiful house!" she broke off like a child in her enthusiasm. "I do so want her to be in it sometimes." She turned suddenly to the visitor.

Miss Parrott's old face glowed, and a smile lingered among the wrinkles.

"And she must pa.s.s the night occasionally," she said. There was a world of entreaty in her eyes. "I think so," said Mrs. Henderson, "but we must leave that to Rachel."

And Rachel, in the keeping-room closet, was trilling up and down some of the jigs her feet had kept time to when she, with the other tenement-house children, had run out to dance on the corner when the organ man came round, all unconscious of what was going on in the study.

"What's that?" cried Miss Parrott, starting. The conference was over and she was coming out of the pastor's study, to get into her ancestral carriage.

"That's Rachel singing," said Mrs. Henderson.

Old Miss Parrott gasped:

"Why, my dear Pastor, and Mrs. Henderson, can the child sing like that?"

"This is the first time she has tried it," said the parson, who had no ear for music and was sorely tried when expected to admire any specimens of it.

"But I dare say she will do very well. She is a very teachable child."

"Very well!" repeated Miss Parrott quickly. "I should say so indeed. Well, I will send for the child on Sat.u.r.day to pa.s.s the day and night with me, and then we shall see what we shall see."

With which enigmatical expression, she mounted her ancestral carriage; the solemn coachman, who had served considerably more than a generation in the family, gathered up the reins, and the coach rumbled off.

"Oh, what an awful old carriage!" exclaimed Rachel, running to the window.

"It looks as if its bones would stick out."

"It hasn't got any bones," said Peletiah, viewing it with awe, "and she's awful rich, Miss Parrott is."

"I don't care," said Rachel, running back to her work and beginning to sing again, "her carriage is all bones, anyway."

XIV

"CAN'T GO," SAID JOEL

"Joel--where are you?" Frick Mason raced in, to encounter Polly in the wide hall. "Oh, dear me!"--not pausing for an answer--"all the boys are waiting for him outside. Please tell him to hurry, Polly," for Joel's friends always felt if they could only get Polly on their side, they were sure of success, and he shifted his feet in impatience.

"I don't know in the least where Joel is," said Polly, pausing in her run through the hall. She had promised Alexia to be over at her house at nine o'clock, and there it was, the big clock in the corner stated plainly, five minutes of that hour. "Oh, dear me! I wish I could help you," and she wrinkled up her brows in distress.

Frick sat down on one of the big, carved chairs and fairly whined:

"I've chased and chased all about here, and no one knows where Joel is.

Polly, do find him for me," and he began to sniffle.

"Oh, I can't," began Polly impatiently, then she finished, "Dear me! Why, I don't know in the very least where Joel is, Frick!--not the leastest bit in the world."

"Oh, yes, you can find him," said Frick, sniffling dreadfully, and beginning to wheedle and beg. "Do, Polly." He seized her gown. "The boys can't do anything without Joel, and they've sent me for him."

"And I'm sure I can't do anything"--Polly shook her gown free--"so there's no use in asking me to stand here and talk about it, Frick Mason. And just look at that clock--two minutes of nine." She pointed tragically up to the big clock. "And I promised to be at Alexia's--" The last words came back to him as she disappeared out to the veranda and down the steps, racing off as hard as she could.

Frick got off from his chair, took three or four steps hopelessly, then stiffened up.

"I'm going to find him," he announced to himself, and turning down the angle, he knocked at the first door on the left.

"Hullo!" exclaimed Joel, unlocking the door and opening it.

"Oh, you're here." Frick seized him on both sides, wishing he had twice the number of hands to employ; then he tried to run in, but Joel shook off the grasp, pushed to the door, only leaving the scantiest s.p.a.ce to allow of conversation.

"You can't come in," he said steadily.

"Hold on! don't shut the door," cried Frick, pressing up closely and still endeavoring to get a good grasp on some of Joel's clothing. "Ow! you 'most smashed my nose, Joel Pepper."

"You must take your nose away then," said Joel decidedly, "for I'm going to shut the door if you scrouge so."

"Well, let me come in," said Frick, struggling violently. "Say, Joel, don't shut the door."

For answer Joel slammed to the door, and the key clicked in the lock.

"I said I'd do it, if you scrouged and pushed, and I must," he answered, with the air of a man performing his duty. "This is my Grandpapa's writing-room, and you mustn't come in, Frick Mason."

Frick slid down to the floor and laid his mouth alongside the crack, with the feeling that his message would be more impressive delivered in that way, since he was not to be admitted to the apartment to give it in due form.

"The boys want you, Joel; they're all waiting for us outside. Hurry up."

Having delivered it, Frick got up to his feet in a hurry, confident that the door would be flung wide, to let Joel come hopping out in delight, and not choosing to be run over in the process.

"Can't go," said Joel, in m.u.f.fled accents, on the other side of the door.

"What?" roared Frick, not believing his ears.

"Can't go," repeated Joel. "Go right away from this door."

"What did you say?" Frick slid to the floor again and beat his hands on the polished surface. "Say, Joel, we want you to come. We're all waiting for you, don't you understand?" He kept saying it over and over, under the impression that if he only repeated it enough, the door would open.

"And I say I can't go," declared Joel, in a high, wrathful key. "If you don't go away and let this door alone, I'll come out and pound you."