“And to parade any special affection, such as the presentation of a gift indicates, is a piece of presumption on your part, I say it again, Cousin Eunice.”

“Grandpapa!” said Phronsie again at his elbow.

“Now, Phronsie,” turning to her, “you are to take that doll,” pointing to a gorgeous affair reposing on the sofa, with Mrs. Algernon Chatterton’s card attached to it, “and go over to Mrs. Chatterton, and say, very distinctly, ‘I cannot accept this gift;’ mind you say it distinctly, Phronsie, that there may be no mistake in the future.”

“Oh, Grandpapa!” cried Phronsie in dismay.

“Yes, child; I know what is best for you.  Take that doll, and do exactly as I bid you.”

A dreadful pause fell upon the room.  Polly clasped her hands, while Alexia and the other girls huddled into a corner saying softly, “Oh! how perfectly dreadful!”

“No use to say anything to father when he looks like that,” groaned Jasper, when Polly besought him to try his influence, “his blood is up now; he’s borne a good deal, you know, Polly.”

“O dear, dear!” whispered Polly, back again, “just look at Mrs. Chatterton’s face, and at poor Phronsie’s; can’t you do something, Jasper?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Jasper gloomily.  “No; he’s making her give it back; see, Polly.”

“You’ll know it’s for the best,” Mr. King was repeating as he led the child to Mrs. Chatterton standing cold and silent at the end of the room, “sometime, child, and then you’ll thank me that I saved you from further annoyance of this sort.  There, Cousin Eunice, is your gift,” taking the doll from Phronsie’s hand, and placing it in the long, jeweled one.  “My little granddaughter receives presents only from those who love her.  All others are unwarranted, and must be returned.”

Phronsie burst out tearfully, “She’s sorry, Grandpapa, I know she is, and she loves me now.  Please let me keep the doll.”

But Mrs. Chatterton had left the room, the doll in her hand.

XXIV

AWAY

And after that everybody had to be as gay as possible, to keep Phronsie’s sad little face from being flooded with tears.

“Dear me!” exclaimed Jasper, “here comes Candace!  Now what do you suppose she has for you, Phronsie?”

Candace sailed through the doorway with ample satisfaction with everything and herself in particular.

“Whar’s little Miss?” she demanded, her turban nodding in all directions, and her black eyes rolling from side to side.

“There, Candace,” said some one, “over in the corner with Jasper.”

“Oh!  I see her,” said Candace, waddling over to them.  “Well, now, Phronsie, seein’ you couldn’t come to me for somethin’ I made ’xpressly fer you, w’y, Candace has to come to you.  See dat now, chile!”

She unrolled the parcel, disclosing the wonderful doll adorned with Candace’s own hair, and “Ole Missus’ ruffles,” then stood erect, her bosom swelling with pride and delight.