“Well, Mrs. Pepper,” said the old gentleman, coming up to the step, Phronsie hanging to his hand, “this looks like starting for town to-morrow, doesn’t it?”

“Oh! what shall we do, sir?” cried Mrs. Pepper, in distress.  “To think you have come down here in the goodness of your heart, to be met with such an accident as this.  What shall we do?” she repeated.

“Goodness of my heart,” repeated Mr. King, nevertheless well pleased at the tribute.  “I’ve had as much pleasure out of it all as you or the young people.  I want you to realize that.”

“So does any one who does a kind act,” replied Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes; “well, sir, now how shall we manage about going back?”

“That remains to be seen,” said Mr. King slowly, and he took a long look at the winter sky, and the distant landscape before he ventured more.  “It very much looks as if we all should remain for a few days, to see how Dick is to get on, all but the four boys; they must pack off to school to-morrow, and then probably Mrs. Whitney will stay over with the boy till he can be moved.  Dr. Fisher will do the right thing by him.  Oh! everything is all right, Mrs. Pepper.”

Mrs. Pepper sighed and led the way into the house.  She knew in spite of the reassuring words that the extreme limit of the “outing” ought to be passed on the morrow.

X

THE PARTY SEPARATES

Good-by to the little brown house!” Joel and David, Percy and Van sang out in doleful chorus, from the old stage coach; two of the boys on the seat shared by John Tisbett, the other two within as companions to Mrs. Pepper and Jasper, who were going home to start the quartette off to school.

“Ben and I will take good care of everything, Mamsie,” said Polly for the fiftieth time, and climbing up on the steps to tuck the traveling shawl closer.  Thereupon Phronsie climbed up too, to do the same thing.  “Don’t you worry; we’ll take care of things,” she echoed.

“I shan’t worry,” said Mrs. Pepper in a bright assured way.  “Mother knows you’ll both do just right.  And Phronsie’ll be a good girl too,” with a long look into the bright eyes peering over the window casing of the old coach.

“I’ll try,” said Phronsie.  “Good-by, Mamsie,” and she tried to stand on tiptoe to reach her mouth up.

“Goodness me!” cried Polly, “you nearly tumbled off the steps.  Throw her a kiss, Phronsie; Mamsie’ll catch it.”

“If that child wants to kiss her ma agen, she shall do it,” declared Mr. Tisbett; and throwing down the reins, he sprang to the ground, seized Phronsie, and swung her lightly over the window edge.  “There you be—­ went through just like a bird.”  And there she was, sure enough, in Mrs. Pepper’s lap.

“I should like to go with you,” Phronsie was whispering under Mrs. Pepper’s bonnet strings, “Mamsie, I should.”

“Oh, no, Phronsie!” Mrs. Pepper made haste to whisper back.  “You must stay with Polly.  Why, what would she ever do without you?  Be mother’s good girl, Phronsie; you’re all coming home, except Auntie and Dick, in a few days.”