Ben Pepper Part 53

"I know why I'm to have my supper a half-hour sooner," said Jasper; "it's because I'm to be tucked into bed earlier to-night. Well, I suppose I must," he added resignedly, as a bright light filled the room.

"Yes, indeed, we had such a good time last night," said Ben, flying back. "Now this is jolly, isn't it?" his face lighting up.

"Yes," said Jasper, "it's no end jolly!" looking across the tea-table, as Jane lighted the candles under the red shades, pulled the curtains together, and Hobson adjusted the tea-things. "Is there anything else you want, Master Jasper?" he asked.

"No," said Jasper, with a quick eye for details, "thank you, Hobson; everything is very nice. Now if you will just take Jocko."

"Yes, I will, Master Jasper," said Hobson, going over to Jocko, who was still working away on his face, supposing he had plenty of time to attack the tea-table later. Jane gave a wide range to the two on her way out.

When they were fairly started Jocko gave a loud cry of disappointment, turning a baffled face to the two boys and the lovely table between them.

"Oh, do toss the poor beggar a piece of cake, Ben," said Jasper.

Which Ben did, and Jocko, wisely considering it better to take it than to get nothing, was borne off; the cake having been swallowed before he reached the bottom of the stairs, his cries pealed up till at last Hobson had him well out of hearing.

Jane set the little silver bell on the tea-table, and withdrew to the sitting room as usual, when the two sat a long time over the supper enjoying it hugely. At last it was time for her to summon Hobson, and the two trays were carried off.

"And now what?" asked Ben. "Shall I read to you, Jasper?"

"Oh, if you don't mind--are you tired of chess?" Jasper leaned forward to search the round face.

"No, not a bit; only it can't be any pleasure to you, I'm so stupid,"

said Ben.

"I tell you what it is, Ben Pepper, you are _not_ stupid," declared Jasper, warmly; "now don't say so again," he begged.

"Oh, I won't if it makes you feel badly," said Ben, laughing, "only I shall think so."

"You mustn't think so," declared Jasper, decidedly; "and do hurry and get the table and the men."

So the little game-table, inlaid and beautiful, was carefully brought out and set in place by Ben, the box of chessmen put in Jasper's hands, and then Ben sat down to the table.

"You choose this time," said Ben, picking up a red and also a white piece, to hold back of him, "only, as I said--"

"Ugh!" interrupted Jasper, "you weren't to say that again. You promised, Ben," he added reproachfully.

"So I did," said Ben. "Well, I won't again."

"See that you don't," said Jasper, laughing. "Well--I choose the left hand. Oh! You have the first move," as a white p.a.w.n came to view.

And after that there was nothing heard in the big room but the ticking of the French clock, and the crackling of the hickory logs, if we except Ben's hard breathing when his men were pushed pretty hard.

And the first thing any one knew there was little Doctor Fisher looking at them through his big spectacles and beaming all over his face.

"Well--well--well!" he could hardly stop himself. "And so you are having a good time," he said to Jasper.

"I should rather think so," said Jasper, lifting a bright face.

"I suppose now you don't know what time it is," said the little Doctor.

"Oh, it's early, I know," said Jasper, easily; "why, we have hardly got through supper, it seems to me."

"Then you must have been a good while at supper," said Doctor Fisher, composedly, and pulling out his big silver watch, "for it's nine o'clock."

"Nine o'clock!" exclaimed Jasper and Ben together.

"Fact." Doctor Fisher nodded so briskly that his spectacles slipped down to the end of his nose, "And so it's time for you to hop into bed, Jasper."

"O dear!" said Jasper, with a glance at the silken canopy and covers, and trying not to show a wry face.

"In with you! I give you ten minutes." The little Doctor laughed and went off, and immediately the room was in a bustle, Ben helping along the operation of getting Jasper to bed. And presently the light was out and Jasper was saying, "Oh, thank you, Ben, ever so much. Good night."

"Good night," said Ben, and he shut the door softly and went downstairs.

It was so still all through the big mansion--little d.i.c.k and Phronsie of course being abed and asleep hours ago, and all the other children away.

Ben opened the big front door and stepped out on the stone porch. Oh, how good the crisp air was! He sniffed it in, and threw back his broad shoulders for another and another breath; then he hurried into the house to get his coat and cap,--and, jamming this last on his head, he thrust his hands in his pockets, and set off for a walk. Yes, they must--the merry sleighs full--be well on their way home by this time, because Grandpapa, who, of course, was going with them, had told Mother Fisher he should bring them home early.

Oh, how good the air was! Ben thought he hadn't tasted any quite so sweet since he left Badgertown--and he deserted the sidewalk now, having reached the thoroughfare, and struck out in the middle of the road, where it was more fun crunching down the snow. How long he walked he didn't know. Suddenly sleigh-bells jingled,--and merry voices,--and, yes, there was Polly's laugh,--and, why, of course, there was Grandpapa's voice,--and then,--

"_Oh, there he is!_" screamed Polly. "_Oh, Ben!_" stretching out her arms.

And "Hop up here," called Grandpapa, his cheeks rosy under the white hair. And up Ben went like a flas.h.!.+ One word to the driver of the four horses and off they went, turning first in the direction from which they had just come--the other big sleigh following fast.

"Oh, Grandpapa, we are going to give Ben a sleigh-ride," cried Polly, in a glad little voice, and clapping her brown gloves together.

"Of course," said Grandpapa; "we are going to give him a little one this time, and a big one, all made up on purpose for him, some other night."

XXV

IT WAS POLLY WHO HEARD IT FIRST

"Yes," said Madam Van Ruypen, folding her long hands in her lap. She sat at one corner of her library fire, in a carved high-backed chair, and the young minister at the other end. Both were regarding the leaping flames.

"It will be best for you to return home to-morrow; tell the mother all my plans for the children, and ask her permission for me to put them into school," went on the old lady, not raising her gaze from the crackling hickory logs.

"Yes, Madam Van Ruypen," said the minister.

"And then write me at once what she says. Meantime, I shall be consulting Mr. King as to the school. It has to be a peculiar kind, of course, none of the high-fangled ones, but a good, substantial, ordinary sort of one, dominated by a man with a conscience. And where shall we find such an one--goodness knows, I'm sure I don't," she lifted her hands in dismay.

Mr. St. John, seeing that something was expected of him, volunteered the remark, "Oh, there must be such inst.i.tutions; they are so much needed."

"Just like a minister," retorted the old lady, who was nothing if not blunt, especially if it fell out that she took a liking to a body; so now she added, "Oh, you'll do to preach from a desk; but as to practical things, such as the selection of a school, why, what can you, in the name of sense, be expected to know, either about them or the masters who run them?"

A little spot of red began to show itself on the fair cheek, and twice the young minister opened his mouth. But he thought better of it. Then he laughed. "Perhaps so," he said, with a nod, and stretched his hands to the blaze.