Chapter II: Part 2

They set off, therefore, one afternoon, in the little phaeton which Mrs. Loomis always drove herself, and soon they drew up before the yellow house and were ushered into a room filled with stately old furniture and sombre portraits. “I don’t think it is as cozy as our house,” whispered Jessie.

“Hush, dear,” returned Mrs. Loomis. “It is far handsomer, and probably after a while it will look more cheerful. You see everything is not settled.”

At this moment Miss Hallett entered and Jessie shrank back against her mother, surprise and something like horror in her eyes, for she saw a tiny little woman with deep dark eyes, a mournful mouth and rather a large head set down between her shoulders. Jessie had never come in contact with a hunchback before and she gripped her mother’s hand hard. Mrs. Loomis gave her fingers a gentle pressure before she rose to meet Miss Hallett whose sudden smile lighted up her sallow face. “I hope we are not coming to you before you are ready to receive a call,” said Mrs. Loomis. “We are your nearest neighbors, Miss Hallett, and I hope you will believe that we want to be true ones.”

“I am so glad to see you,” returned Miss Hallett. “This dull day has given me an attack of the blues, and you could not have chosen a better time for coming. I have been wanting an opportunity to thank you for your kindness to Adele, but we have been so busy, it seemed impossible for me to find time to go anywhere. Adele has talked of nothing else but you and your little girl since her rather awkward tumble. I am afraid she gave you a great deal of trouble.”

“Not a bit of it,” returned Mrs. Loomis. “I only hope she didn’t take cold.”

“No, she did not, thanks to your prompt measures. She is an impulsive, headstrong little creature, and I am at loss sometimes just how to manage her. Fortunately my friend Miss Laurent has consented to come to us, and with her coöperation I hope we shall do great things for Adele. I wanted to have the house all in order before Miss Laurent should come, and it has been such a task.”

Jessie wished very much that Miss Hallett would send for Adele instead of talking about her, and presently was relieved when a tall mulatto woman was summoned. “Go tell Miss Adele that she is to come in, Angeline,” said Miss Hallett. “Or,” she turned to Mrs. Loomis, “perhaps your little girl would rather go out to Adele. She is in the summer-house. My brother has had it enclosed with glass, and Adele rather likes to play there. Would you rather go to Adele?” she asked Jessie.

There was no doubt in Jessie’s mind that she would very much prefer this, and in another moment she was following Angeline through the hall to a side door and down a broad walk to the summer-house.

“Young lady to see you, honey baby,” said Angeline putting her head in the door.

Adele, who was busy over something in one corner, turned suddenly and caught sight of Jessie standing on the sill. She darted forward, and flung her arms around her visitor, kissing her first on one cheek and then on the other. “I am so glad you have come,” she cried. “I thought you never would. You may go, Angeline.” She turned to the tall maid who drew down her mouth and disappeared leaving the little girls alone.

“I thought of course you would come over yesterday, to the play place, you know,” returned Jessie.

Adele dropped her eyes and appeared to be looking attentively at her toes. “I couldn’t,” she said presently.

“Why not?”

“She wouldn’t let me.”

“What she?”

“Aunt Betty. She’s horrid like that sometimes and is just as mean as she can be.”

“Is that because she isn’t--she isn’t just like other people?” asked Jessie hesitatingly. She could readily understand that a person who looked like Miss Hallett might have reason to be disagreeable.

Adele looked at her fixedly for a moment, then to Jessie’s great discomfiture she burst into tears. “She isn’t! She isn’t! She isn’t!” she repeated. “She is just like other people and she is dear and good and lovely. You shan’t say she is not.”

Jessie was bewildered. “I didn’t mean--I didn’t mean----” she began helplessly.

“It was I who was horrid,” Adele went on. “It was all my doing. I got mad and screamed and fought Angeline and wouldn’t eat my supper because I couldn’t have coffee and lots, lots, lots of sugar in it, and so Aunt Betty said I shouldn’t go to see you till she said I might. She isn’t horrid at all, and you shan’t say she is. She is perfectly beautiful.”

“It wasn’t _I_ who said she was horrid, you know,” said Jessie with an emphasis on the _I_.

“Well, I don’t care. You thought so.” Adele wiped her eyes and stood thoughtfully picking off the dead leaves from a potted geranium on a shelf near by. Jessie was silent. She hardly knew whether to go or stay.

Presently Adele turned around with the sweetest of smiles. “Let’s play,” she said. “I’ll show you all my dolls. Why didn’t you bring Charity or Peter Pan with you?”

“I will next time,” said Jessie, relieved at the turn of affairs, but wondering what kind of girl Adele really was.

“Come,” cried Adele, grasping Jessie’s hand. “The dolls are all up in the playroom. I was making medicine for them just now. They have ague, every blessed one of them, and they are shaking their heads off, at least one of them is,” she added with a laugh. “I’ll show you which one it is.” She pulled Jessie along the boardwalk and up-stairs to a pleasant upper room where six dolls were abed, most of them staring smilingly at the ceiling, though two of them had their eyes shut. Adele picked up one of them and showed a very wobbly head which seemed in danger of soon departing from its body. “This is the shakiest one,” she said, “and she’ll have to have a double dose of medicine. Indeed, I don’t know but that she will have to go to a hospital. That is my newest one.” She pointed to a very fresh and smiling flaxen-haired beauty.

“What is her name?” asked Jessie.

“She hasn’t any in particular. I never name my dolls.”

“Oh, don’t you?” This seemed as incredible to Jessie as if she had been told that a family of children had been left unnamed. “I don’t see how you get along if you don’t name them,” she said.

“Oh, I scarcely ever play with more than one at a time, and then I can always call that one dolly or honey or something,” was the reply.

“I should think you would have to name them,” persisted Jessie. “When you are talking about them what do you say?”

“I hardly ever do talk about them. When I do it is to Aunt Betty, and then I say the new doll, or the doll with the brown hair, or something of that kind. Don’t let’s play with dolls. I bet you can’t catch me before I get downstairs.” And while Jessie was recovering herself Adele was off and away down the stairs at the foot of which she stood laughing as Jessie descended more slowly. “I think I shall ask Angeline for some cakes,” she said. “Come along into the kitchen. I suppose that cross old Roxy wouldn’t give us any, but I can coax Angeline into anything. Angeline! Angeline!” she called imperiously, “come here.”

Angeline appeared at the entry door. “I want some cakes,” said Adele, “some for Jessie and me. We’re hungry.”

“Dey ain’ no mo’ cakes, honey,” said Angeline. “Yo done eat ’em all up.”

“Then make some right away, or tell Roxy she’s got to do it.”

“Roxy she done gone to de sto’.”

“Oh, bother! You go along and make some, and be quick about it, too,” ordered Adele.

“Law, honey chile, how long yuh spec’ it tek to mek up de fiah an’ bake cake? Yuh foolish, chile. I done got some sweet ertaters in de ashes,” she hastened to say as she saw Adele’s face puckering up for a cry. “I tell yuh what, honey; I git yuh two nice bowls o’ milk an’ nice sweet ertaters an’ yuh kin tek ’em out in de summah-house an’ eat ’em.”

“I suppose that will have to do,” said Adele with resignation. “Do you like sweet potatoes and milk?” she asked Jessie.

“I never ate any. At least, of course I have eaten sweet potatoes often enough and I drink milk, but I never ate them together.”

“They are mighty good together,” Adele assured her. “Bring ’em along, Angeline, to the summer-house, and don’t you be forever about it either.” And Adele stalked off with Jessie in her wake.

“She’s very good-natured, isn’t she?” remarked Jessie when they had reached the summer-house.

“Who? Angeline? Oh, so so.”

“I wouldn’t dare to talk to Minerva that way,” said Jessie after a pause.

“You wouldn’t? I don’t see why. I always talk as I please to Angeline. She nursed my mother and she nursed me, and she doesn’t care what I say to her. Besides, I am her mistress.” Adele held her head high, and Jessie looked at her admiringly.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose that must make a difference; Minerva was never nurse to my mother.”

The two bowls of milk and warm sweet potatoes soon appeared and though Jessie did not care very much for the combination, she ate part of her share fearing she might seem rude if she did not. She was glad, however, that she did not have to finish, and that a message from her mother obliged her to return to the house.

“We must go now, dear,” said Mrs. Loomis. “We have made a long call.” She smiled at Adele as the two little girls came in.

“Oh, no, you mustn’t go,” spoke up Adele. “At least, you might let Jessie stay. Won’t you, please?”

“Not to-day,” said Mrs. Loomis gently. “Your aunt has been kind enough to promise that we may have you to-morrow to spend the day, so I think Jessie and I will have to say good-bye now.”

“Oh, am I going for the whole day?” exclaimed Adele delightedly, catching her aunt’s hand and pressing her cheek against it as was her way of doing. “Is Angeline going to take me, or can I go alone? I know the way.”

“You may go over alone,” Miss Betty told her. “But I will send Angeline for you.”

Remembering Adele’s outburst earlier in the afternoon, Jessie steeled herself to move closer to Miss Hallett and to say, “I’m glad you will let Adele come. I haven’t any little girls to play with, you see.”

“Oh, yes, you have,” put in Adele with mischief in her eyes; “you have Playmate Polly, you know.”

Mrs. Loomis looked down with a puzzled expression. “Who in the world is Playmate Polly?” she asked. “I never heard of her.”

“She is a horrid creature,” said Adele laughing. “She has scraggy hair, and a dreadful rough skin, but Jessie is very fond of her, and I don’t like her to be.”

Jessie hung her head. She was afraid of being laughed at. “She’s only a tree,” she said in a low voice.

Miss Betty smiled, but Mrs. Loomis put her arm around her little daughter and said: “Then I am sure she is a very harmless acquaintance, who will set my little girl no bad examples, and I am sure she is much better than no one.”

Jessie looked up with a grateful smile. Mother always understood. She would tell her all about Polly now that it was a secret no longer. Yet she felt hurt and offended to think that Adele had not kept faith with her, though, as she reflected, it was not about Polly that her promise was made, but about Peter Pan and his grotto. Adele knew, however, that Jessie wanted both kept a secret, and so the little visitor threw her hostess a reproachful look which Adele understood and eagerly responded to by saying, “I didn’t tell about the other thing, Jessie. Indeed I didn’t. Now that you have me, I didn’t suppose you would care any more about Polly.”

Mrs. Loomis was too considerate to ask about “the other thing,” but she was told all about Playmate Polly on the way home, and agreed with Jessie that it was very well to have such an amiable friend when there was danger of a sudden flare up from Adele.

“The poor child has no mother; we must be very patient with her,” Mrs. Loomis said. “She has always been a delicate little thing, and in consequence is greatly spoiled. Her aunt is very frail, too, and says she cannot stand scenes. I hope Miss Laurent will have wisdom enough to know how to manage such a wilful little girl. Miss Hallett tells me that her friend is a very superior woman and that she hopes a great deal from her.” She was silent for a few minutes while Barney carried them several rods along the road. Then she said, “What do you think of having lessons with Adele, daughter?”

“Oh! Why, I don’t know. I suppose if I have to have lessons at all that it would be nicer than anything. Am I to do it, mother?”

“I think so. I shall have to speak to your father first, but Miss Hallett is very eager to have such an arrangement and brought up the subject herself, so I do not see but that we shall profit by it. She is very anxious that Adele should have a companion, for she has been too much with older persons, and it would certainly settle our difficulty of lessons for you.”

This gave Jessie a great deal to think about all that evening, and the last question she asked that night was, “Will you promise to tell me first thing in the morning, mother?”

And her mother answered, “I promise.”

_CHAPTER V_

_A New Pet_

_CHAPTER V_

_A New Pet_

As Mrs. Loomis had said, Miss Hallett’s proposition settled the question of lessons for Jessie, and so when Adele appeared the next morning, bright and early, Jessie had the great piece of news to tell her, and Adele responded in her usual tempestuous way by giving Jessie a tremendous hug, and by rushing to Mrs. Loomis to embrace her, too. “It will be perfectly lovely,” she cried. “You will come to my house every morning and we’ll have lessons in the playroom; it will have to be a workroom then, and in the afternoon we can play by the brook.”

“We’ll not be able to all winter,” said Jessie, “for it will be too cold.”

“Oh, I forgot that; we don’t have much winter down our way, you know.”

“Of course I don’t mean that we can never play out-of-doors,” returned Jessie, “but it will be too damp down by the brook most of the time, and it will often be too snowy.”

“Oh, the snow! I long for it,” cried Adele clasping her hands.

“It is nice,” said Jessie. “I like to slide on the ice, too, even when it isn’t snowy. We can often go out on the little pond when the ice is thick. It is rather fun to be out in the cold at any time, for you feel so good when you come in.”

“I shall get Miss Eloise to let me walk home with you sometimes,” said Adele, “because you will have to come by yourself in the morning, and it wouldn’t be fair for you to walk both ways alone. Does the brook freeze over?”

“Sometimes,” Jessie told her, “and then we can cross on the ice. I’d rather go that way always, for it is shorter than to go around by the road, but I suppose I can’t in very bad weather.”

“What will you do about Polly when it gets cold?” asked Adele.

“Oh, I can always see her except when there is deep snow.”

“And the grotto?”

“I’ll have to cover it up with brush and it will be there in the spring. Why did you tell my secret, Adele?”

“Because I don’t like Polly. I didn’t tell about the grotto, did I? and I think Polly is ugly. I wish you didn’t like her.”

“Anyhow, she never tells things I don’t want her to,” said Jessie severely.

Adele buried her head in the sofa cushion of the lounge upon which she was sitting, and began to sob, “I don’t care, I don’t care. She is nothing but an ugly wicked old tree, and you _shall_ love me best, because I love you best. I don’t pick out queer bad old creatures like that to love more than you. I believe she is nothing but an old witch.”

For a moment Jessie felt quite remorseful, but then a feeling of not wanting to be forced into likes and dislikes took possession of her, and she relentlessly said: “I shall not like you best if you tell my secrets.”

“I won’t tell any more. ’Deed and ’deed I won’t,” said Adele, lifting a tear-stained face. “Please love me best, Jessie.” She caught Jessie’s hands and put them around her own neck looking at her so pleadingly that Jessie’s heart melted and she answered; “All right, I’ll like you best.”

But the words were scarcely out of her mouth before they were stopped with kisses, and Adele looked as happy as she had looked miserable a moment before. “Now come,” she said, “let’s go to the grotto. I brought paper dolls; one is Wendy and the other is Tinker Bell. Now you can finish the story, and we’ll have a lovely time.”

They started off very happily, Mrs. Loomis watching them from the window. “I don’t know how it is going to turn out,” she said to herself, “but I hope Jessie will learn self-control by seeing how it looks to fly into such tantrums as Adele’s. I think the sight of them will do her more good than any amount of precept.”

Having given her word that Polly should no more have first place, Jessie was ready to be very amiably disposed toward Adele, yet from nine o’clock in the morning till six in the evening is a long stretch, and it was rather too much to expect that two excitable little girls could spend all that time in one another’s company without disagreements. Once during the day Jessie gathered up her dolls and started for home, leaving Adele disconsolately sitting on a stone, but Adele was the first to ask to make up, and begged so hard to be taken back into favor that Jessie yielded. Once, too, Adele in a sudden rage threatened to demolish the grotto, because Jessie insisted upon having her way with Wendy.

“She’s mine,” protested Adele.

“I don’t care. I know all about her better than you. I saw the play and you didn’t,” this conclusively.

Adele flung Wendy on the ground and added insult to injury by threatening to chop down Playmate Polly some night. “And when you get up in the morning, she will be gone forever,” said Adele.

This was too much for Jessie. “You won’t dare to do such a thing,” she cried. “I shall tell my father never to let you step your foot on the place again. You can just take your old paper dolls and go home.”

Adele arose speechless with rage. She deliberately tore Tinker Bell into bits and threw the pieces at Jessie, then snatching up Wendy she turned toward home.

At once Jessie seemed to hear her mother say: “We must be patient with her; she has no mother.” And she was filled with remorse. “Come back, come back,” she cried. “I didn’t mean it at all. You can have Wendy do anything you like. And it doesn’t matter about Tinker Bell. No one ever sees her anyway, for she’s just a little twinkling light. One of the candles will do for her. I’m sorry; I really am, Adele.” So peace was made, and the rest of the day passed happily enough.

When they went up to the house for dinner Sam met them. “I’ve got a new pet for you,” he said to Jessie. “Come down to the barn after dinner and I’ll show you.”

“Oh, what is it? Do tell us,” begged Jessie.

But Sam laughed and walked away, so Jessie knew it was no use to question further, for Sam never would be coaxed to tell. She was in great haste to finish her dinner, but Adele was hungry and seemed to enjoy everything so much that Jessie felt that it would not be polite to hurry her. She did not hesitate, however, to urge Adele to make haste as soon as her last mouthful of dessert was swallowed. “Do come right away,” she said. “I must see what Sam has. Aren’t you wild to know? I am.”

“What do you think it is?” said Adele. “Maybe he was only fooling.”

“No, I am sure he was in earnest. I know Sam well enough for that. He often brings me things, and I have an idea this is something alive.”

The two children were not long in reaching the barn, the big door of which was open. It was a big, roomy place smelling of hay. Three horses stood in their stalls, and as the little girls entered, a brown hen flew cackling from one of the empty mangers. “I’ll have Sam get that egg for us,” remarked Jessie. “I wonder where he is. Sam! Sam!” she called.

A voice answered from the harness room and Jessie led the way thither. Sam was sitting on a box mending harness. “Here we are,” said Jessie. “Show us what you said you had.”

“See if you can find it,” said Sam, and Jessie immediately set to work to search. She knew all the corners and crannies, if Adele did not. It was quite like a game, and rather an entertaining one. Here they came upon a setting hen who had stolen a nest in the hay; there a squeaking mouse would scuttle across the timbers, scaring both girls into shrieking. At last they made their discovery, for, as they were searching in front of Barney’s stall, directly above their heads something suddenly cried out: “Caw!”

The children looked up to see a black crow looking down at them from a perch in the corner. “Oh, I believe that is it,” said Jessie. “Sam! Sam! is it a crow?”

Sam came forward and lifted down the bird which was tethered by a long cord. “Yes,” he said. “He is a young one that got a little hurt somehow. I found him in the cornfield. He’ll learn to talk after a bit, and I’ve clipped his wings so he can’t fly far. He will get as tame as a dog after a while.”

Jessie put a finger on the shining black head of the crow. “Isn’t he funny?” she said. “It will be perfectly lovely to have a pet who can talk, and I think you are very good, Sam, to bring him to me. Will he say real words, like people?”

“He won’t be quite as glib as a parrot, maybe, but he will say a number of words, and it won’t be long before he will be following you everywhere.”

“I don’t think he is very pretty,” remarked Adele, who was standing at one side and did not seem to care about touching the bird.

“Oh, I think he is,” returned Jessie. “He is so jetty black, and has such a knowing look. I like him very much. I don’t suppose I can keep him in the house, Sam.”

“Better not, or he’ll be playing havoc with things. He’ll soon learn to stay around with the chickens, and when you want to have him near you can tether him. I knew one once that was as good as a watch-dog. Let any one come around day or night and he’d set up his Caw! Caw! I’ll take him out-of-doors for you now. He can’t get away very far, but I’d better tether him. Where’ll you have him?”

“Oh, down by the brook where we play,” Jessie told him.

The two little girls led the way and Sam tethered the bird by a long cord. He hopped around contentedly, and soon became tame enough to come quite close to the girls and peck at their feet. “Polly can take care of him, you see,” said Jessie. “I think she rather likes birds, at least I’ve seen her holding them quite often.”

Adele laughed. “You do say such ridiculous things about Polly.”

Jessie paid no attention to this remark but continued her line of thought. “I think she misses my playing with her as much as I used to, so I’ll tell her she can play with the crow all she likes. I wonder what we’d better call him. He’s as shiny and black as coal; you know the kind that has all sorts of colors in it. He looks that way when he turns his head.”

“I don’t think Coal would be a very pretty name,” objected Adele.

“I don’t think so either,” Jessie agreed with her. “I’ll have to think of something else.” They turned over in their minds all the things that suggested blackness or darkness, from ink to thunder-clouds, finally hitting upon Ebony, which was a happy thought of Jessie’s who remembered an ebony chest in her Aunt Lucy’s house. “We can call him Ebon for short,” she said. “It is a nice, easy name.”

“And Eb would be still shorter,” said Adele. “Hello, Eb.”

The crow responded by putting his head to one side and remarking “Caw!” in a way which made both girls laugh.

“When I get the gray kitten,” said Jessie, “I shall have two new pets.”

“And I haven’t any,” said Adele wistfully.

“I am sure Effie Hinsdale would give you one of the kittens,” said Jessie. “I’ll ask mother if we can go there Saturday. I know she will be glad--Effie I mean--to get a good home for another kitten. There is a gray something like mine and two black ones.”

“I’d rather have black, I think, and I’ll call it Velvet,” said Adele swift in decision.

“I’ve named mine Cloudy,” Jessie told her. “We can’t have them yet, you know.”

“Why not?”

“They’re not big enough to leave their mother. I thought I saw a cat, a yellow cat, on your porch one morning.”

“Oh, that’s the stable cat. He is very wild and won’t let me come near him. I’d rather have a kitten anyway.”

“Well, we can go see the kittens at Effie’s even if we can’t take them just yet, and we shall have the crow.”

“And Polly,” put in Adele with a laugh.

“She isn’t a pet; she is a friend,” replied Jessie with some dignity, feeling that Adele meant to underrate Playmate Polly’s importance.

In a very short time Ebon had become quite tame, and followed the little girls as if he were a dog. He constantly amused them by his funny ways. Although he had not yet learned to talk, Sam declared that he would in time, and meanwhile Adele went with Jessie to see Effie’s kittens, and was promised a black one. So from having no companions at all, Jessie felt that she would be very well supplied that winter. “There will be you and your kitten, me and my kitten, Polly and Eb,” she said to Adele. “That will be a great many of us to play together.”

“Yes, and there will be Miss Eloise and horrid lessons,” returned Adele.

Jessie sighed. “Yes,” she said, “I have been thinking of that. I wish we could take lessons like pills and have done with them.”

“In jelly?”

“No, I’d just gulp them down with water and have some bread and jelly afterward.”

The children were in the sitting-room, having just returned from Effie’s. Mrs. Loomis was sitting there sewing. She smiled as she listened to what the children were saying. “I think you will be doing just about as you say,” she remarked. “You will swallow down your lessons in the morning, and in the afternoon you will have your bread and jelly in the shape of play. I don’t believe you will find the lessons such a terrible dose as you think.”

“Indeed, I hope so,” returned Jessie with a sigh. “Come on, Adele; Peter Pan has lost his shadow again and I must find it.” This Peter Pan of Jessie’s lost his shadow much more frequently than did the original one, for the shadow was nothing but a bit of newspaper fastened by a piece of thread and it was torn off very often.

“I’m going to have a Peter Pan, too,” Adele announced triumphantly. “Aunt Betty has written papa to bring me one the next time he comes.”

“There couldn’t be two Peter Pans,” said Jessie in an annoyed tone.

“There could, too. I am sure I have just as much right to name my doll after the Peter Pan as you have. There are hundreds and hundreds of George Washingtons in the world and lots and lots of Grover Clevelands.”

Jessie could not deny this, but she was not pleased with the idea of there being another Peter Pan so close at hand. “If you name your doll Peter Pan, I’ll call mine something else,” she said, and then she added, “I won’t have any use for the grotto, of course, so I will just pull it down.”

“I think you are horrid mean,” said Adele. “You know I do love that grotto.”

“Well, you can make one for yourself,” said Jessie calmly. “There’s just as much stuff for it on your side of the brook as there is on mine.”

The tears rushed to Adele’s eyes. “You know I couldn’t. I should never know how, and besides your side of the brook has a much better bank.”

“Well,” said Jessie, unmoved, “there simply cannot be two Peter Pans.”

Adele snatched up her hat and ran from the room. Jessie, watching her from the window rather shamefacedly, saw her hurrying down the hill. She waited till Adele had safely crossed the log, then she turned away saying to herself, “There couldn’t possibly be two Peter Pans.”

_CHAPTER VI_

_A Mystery_

_CHAPTER VI_

_A Mystery_

Like most of their quarrels this between the two little girls did not last long, for the next morning Jessie had scarcely finished breakfast before Adele appeared eager and smiling. “Papa came last night,” she said, “and so did Miss Eloise.”

“Then are we to begin taking our pills to-day?” asked Jessie.

Adele laughed. “No, not till to-morrow. Aunt Betty and Miss Eloise want to talk, and besides Aunt Betty says Miss Eloise is tired and she mustn’t begin to work right away.”

“I thought we were the ones who had to work,” remarked Jessie.

“Don’t you suppose it is going to be just as hard for Miss Eloise?” put in Mrs. Loomis. “Do you imagine it is going to be very amusing to be shut up with two wilful little girls who don’t like lessons?”

“Oh!” Jessie had never thought of this side of the question. She looked at Adele.

“Oh,” said Adele. Then after a pause, “But she doesn’t have to do it if she doesn’t want to, and we do have to.”

“Do you think all persons who do their duty in this world really prefer not to do some other thing?” asked Mr. Loomis. “Some persons like to teach, I admit, but there are many who have to learn to like teaching just as much as you will have to learn to like studying. So don’t imagine it will be all fun for Miss Laurent. From what I can learn Miss Eloise consented to be your teacher because she is a loyal friend, and as your Aunt Betty, Adele, dreaded the thought of having a stranger in the house, Miss Eloise consented to come. She fortunately has a gift for teaching, but she is willing to come to this little country village because she can be of use to Miss Hallett, and because she thinks she can help you little girls. I hope both of you will remember that, and that you will do nothing to make her sorry that she decided to come.”

This very serious way of taking it made the two little girls feel quite subdued. Adele was first to recover her spirits. “You don’t know what I’ve got,” she sang out as she held something in her hand behind her.

“Let me see,” cried Jessie springing toward her. Adele backed away.

“Guess,” she said.

Jessie shook her head. “Can’t.”

“Something papa brought me.”

“Oh, I know; a doll.”

Adele displayed her new possession. “Yes, but I am not going to call it Peter Pan, at least, not yet a while, for it is smaller than yours. I don’t say I never will, but now I am going to name it after papa.”

“What is his name?” asked Jessie.

“James. I shall call my doll Jamie. Come on, let’s go down to the grotto. I wish now I hadn’t asked for a boy-doll; if it had been a girl one I could have called it Wendy instead of the paper one. Do you know, Jessie, Miss Eloise says that Peter Pan’s house was in the tree tops.”

“So it was,” Jessie remembered.

“But I like the grotto better,” declared Adele. “Aren’t you ready to go?”

“We can’t go yet; the grass is too wet. We’ll have to wait till the sun dries it a little. We can play in here for a while.”

Jessie had not been very enthusiastic over the new doll though she was relieved that it was not exactly like her own, and that Adele had decided to call it Jamie. The doll wore a scarlet coat with tiny brass buttons upon it, white trousers and a little red cap. He was quite a pretty little fellow, and Jessie admired him, though she did not say so. When the sun had dried the grass enough the children set forth, Ebon hopping behind them, sometimes taking a short flight with flapping wings. It was a bright autumn morning, the sky very blue and the air pleasant.

“I’m so glad it isn’t raining,” remarked Adele, “for it is our last morning.”

“Except Saturday. We shall not study on Saturdays, shall we?”

“Oh, no, of course not.”

They had reached the foot of the hill, and Adele made straight for the grotto, but Jessie stopped in front of the little Polly Willow. “Good-morning, Polly,” she said, gently patting the rough bark.

Adele watched her, and then said mockingly, “Good-morning, old Polly.” Then she exclaimed, “I know what I’m going to do; I’m going to have a house for my Peter Pan, and I am going to build it on Polly’s head.”

“Indeed you shall not,” replied Jessie. “She is mine and I shall not let you. Besides you said you weren’t going to call your doll Peter Pan.”

“I said I wasn’t at first.”

“This is at first.”

“No, it was at first when I said that; now it is after a while.”

Jessie turned her back on Adele and it seemed as if their last evening’s quarrel would break out afresh.

“Are you mad, Jessie?” questioned Adele.

No answer.

“Are you, Jessie?”

“Yes, I am.” The reply came in offended tones. “You know I don’t like you to make fun of Polly.”

“Then say you like me best.”

“I have said that.”

“But do you really mean it?”

“Ye-es,” rather reluctantly. “At least I do when you don’t do me so mean.”

“I won’t have the house on Polly’s head then. I’ll take this high bush.” She set the scarlet-coated little figure in a bush close by. “He looks like some red flower there, doesn’t he? I’m going to get something to build the house with.”

“What kind of things?”

“Oh, leaves and moss and things.”

“Then I’ll stay here and get the grotto in order,” Jessie decided.

“I’m going to make a cradle for Peter Pan,” said Adele as she moved off.

Jessie did not follow, but busied herself in sweeping up, with a bunch of twigs, the bits of earth which had fallen down over night upon the floor of the cave, and in putting the moss into place. Ebon, hopping about, regarded her with his bright eyes, and coming nearer tried to peck at the shining piece of glass which made the lake in the centre of the grotto. “Go away, Eb,” cried Jessie. “You are getting too fusty entirely.” She shoved him away with her elbow, and he strutted off dipping his head and uttering some protesting caws. After a few minutes Jessie had the grotto in pretty good order, but concluded a few more pebbles would not come amiss. These must be found in the brook. The water was very clear, and in the shallow parts one could easily get at the pebbles lying at the bottom of the stream. There was a scraggy tree trunk at the water’s edge, and on this Jessie sat, holding on to one gnarly root while she reached over to get the pebbles. Brown leaves went drifting by on the stream; a Bob White called from the grass near by. Jessie nodded understandingly to Playmate Polly. “You like it, don’t you, Polly, or you wouldn’t stay here. The idea of any one’s building a house on your head. I shall put your hat on and then you will be able to show that you are not just an ordinary tree. But now I must take back my pebbles.”

She gathered up the little stones and returned to the grotto where she went on with her paving till she heard Adele’s voice saying: “I have some beauty leaves all red and yellow, and I found some moss, too.” Then an exclamation: “Why, where is my Peter Pan? Jessie Loomis, you have hidden him just to tease me.”

“’Deed I have not,” returned Jessie. “I have been getting pebbles from the brook.”

“I put him right here on top of this bush,” said Adele, “and he’s gone, so you must have taken him. You did it on purpose just because you didn’t want me to have a Peter Pan.”

“I did not,” returned Jessie indignantly. “He could easily have fallen off. Look all around, in the grass and the leaves.”

“Has Mrs. Mooky been here?” asked Adele. “You know that story of the little Tom Thumb that the cow was going to eat.”

“I believe Mrs. Mooky was somewhere about,” Jessie told her. “No,” she remembered, “it wasn’t near here that I saw her; it was on the other side of the fence in the pasture.”

Adele began to hunt around diligently, Jessie joining in the search, but no lost doll was to be found. Once a bunch of scarlet berries on a bush deceived them into thinking that by some mysterious means the doll had been spirited away. “For you know he could fly,” said Adele.

At last they were obliged to give up looking, and Adele went home quite convinced that Jessie knew where the doll was hidden, and Jessie, in her turn went off up the hill toward the house, hurt and distressed to think that Adele should not have believed her.

She went back after dinner to renew the search, and became satisfied after a long hunt that Adele had mistaken the bush and that she had put it somewhere else. A hollow stump in the neighborhood seemed the most likely place, but though she managed to climb up where she could peep into the hollow, it was all dark within and a stick poked in did nothing more than scare a chipmunk nearly out of his wits, so that presently he came out chattering and bristling with rage and fear. Jessie went home and told her mother all about it, and after Mrs. Loomis had gone with her to see what she could do, they both concluded that the doll must have fallen far down into this same hollow stump, and that it could not be found unless the stump were grubbed up.

“Do you think I ought to give her my Peter Pan?” Jessie asked hesitatingly. “I like him best of all my dolls except Charity.”

“No, I don’t think you need do that,” her mother told her, “but when I go to town I will try to find one that you can give her to replace this.”

“May I tell her so?”

“Yes, if you like. I think if you do, it will convince her that you spoke the truth.”

“She ought to have believed me anyhow.”

“Circumstances were against you, my dear. I know it is very hard to be suspected, but there was some reason for Adele’s doing so, and I am sure she will be satisfied when you tell her she is to have another doll.”

“May I go over now and tell her?”

“Yes, if you won’t stay too long.”

Jessie set off toward the brook. She did not fail to search for the doll as she went, but she stopped to lay her hand upon Playmate Polly and to say: “You would have believed me, Polly. You always do believe me, and I don’t think I shall ever tell Adele again that I like her best.”

Playmate Polly made no answer, but the murmuring brook sang a little song that Jessie liked and the whispering trees seemed to say: “We know, we know.” The same little chipmunk was sitting on his haunches on top of the hollow stump. He chattered fiercely as he saw Jessie, and leaping into the nearest pine tree went whisking off. Jessie was not sure but she liked her favorite playground better without the presence of Adele, and she almost wished the yellow house were still empty. It seemed as if she and Adele were continually at odds, and though Adele professed to care very much for her, she didn’t see how it were possible when she doubted her word.

She went rather slowly through the piece of woods and through the orchard which lay on the other side of the brook. She realized that now she would meet Miss Eloise, and though she wanted much to see what manner of person she was, she rather dreaded the meeting, and besides she really did not feel in a very friendly mood toward Adele just then, only she could not have her go on believing untrue things. At last she came out close to the garden fence. She stood still for a moment before she opened the gate and went through. There was no one about, but she heard voices from the front porch, and as she turned the corner of the house she saw that there were four persons on the porch, Miss Betty, a strange lady with fair hair who must be Miss Eloise, a man who was probably Adele’s father, and Adele herself. Jessie paused where she stood but Adele had heard the click of the gate and had caught sight of the visitor.

“There she is now,” cried Adele. “Have you found him, Jessie? Have you found him?”

Jessie came slowly forward. “No,” she said shyly. “Mother helped me to look. We think he must have fallen down into a hollow stump and has gone way down inside, but mother says she is going to town very soon and she will get you another doll just like it.”

Miss Betty was listening. “Indeed she must not do that, Jessie,” she said. “A little cheap doll like that is no loss, besides it was not you who lost it, but Adele, and her father can easily get another when he goes back to the city.”

“But,” Jessie hesitated, then she turned to Miss Betty. “I want mother to get it so Adele will believe I spoke the truth, that I don’t tell stories.” Jessie held her head high.

Miss Betty looked at Adele. “Why, honey,” she said, “I am sure you never told Jessie that she wasn’t truthful.”

Adele nodded. “Hm, hm, I did, because I thought she might have hidden the doll to tease me and because she didn’t want me to have a Peter Pan.”

“But she has proved that she does want you to have one by asking her mother to replace the one that is lost, and besides, you told me that you were the last one that had the doll.”

Adele rushed at Jessie and flung her arms around her. “Wasn’t I horrid?” she said. “I’ll believe every word you say after this. I suppose you will say,” she whispered, “that Polly always has believed you.”

“Yes,” Jessie nodded, “she certainly does.”

“I don’t care,” returned Adele defiantly. “I believe after all that she is a thief, and that she stole my doll.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Miss Betty. “You both look as fierce as turkey-cocks.”

“I’m talking about that old Polly,” answered Adele.

“You absurd children!” said Miss Betty laughing. “Come, Jessie, don’t you want to meet your teacher? She is very anxious to meet you. Eloise, dear, this is your other little pupil.”

Jessie was conscious of a pair of gray eyes that looked at her very steadily but very kindly, and of two warm hands that held hers, but she was overcome with shyness and said not a word.

“Do you think you are going to like her more than you do me?” Adele asked Miss Eloise anxiously.

“You jealous little monkey,” said her aunt. “Why shouldn’t she like Jessie best? Don’t you want her to?”

“I want her to like us both alike,” replied Adele.

“A perfectly safe reply,” said Miss Eloise. “I hope I have a place in my heart big enough for both of you, my dears.”

“This is papa,” said Adele swinging Jessie around in front of Mr. Hallett, who held out his hand.

“I hope you and this will-o’-the-wisp of ours will be good friends,” he said to Jessie. “She needs some one to tone her down a little, and keep her from having tantrums.” He softly patted Adele’s hand as he spoke.

“Jessie has tantrums, too,” spoke up Adele, “but they are pouty ones, not screamy like mine.”

Jessie blushed and felt greatly embarrassed. She wished Adele were not quite so outspoken.

“Never mind, dear,” said Miss Eloise leaning over and putting her arm around Jessie. “If we don’t all have tantrums we all feel like it sometimes, and when we were little girls very few of us did not have them. We generally outgrew them, or learned self-control, and that is what you and Adele will do.”

Jessie looked up gratefully and from that moment liked Miss Eloise.

So soon did this lady put her at her ease that in a few minutes she found herself talking quite glibly about her home, her pets, and her reasons for leaving school, realizing that she would not in the least mind having lessons the next day. But presently she remembered that she was not to stay too long, so she took her leave, Adele calling after her: “Remember, you are not to get another doll. I won’t let you, and I’d rather have a Wendy anyhow.”

_CHAPTER VII_

_Taking Pills_

_CHAPTER VII_

_Taking Pills_

It was with rather mixed feelings that Jessie set out the next morning to begin lessons with Miss Eloise. She didn’t enjoy the idea of studying, but she did like Miss Eloise and it would be quite a novelty to have but one other schoolmate. She felt rather important, too, from the fact that she was to begin French and music. This last thought gave confidence to her step and brightness to her face when she appeared on the porch of the yellow house.

Adele danced out to meet her. “We’re all ready,” she said. “Miss Eloise and I have been fixing up the schoolroom, and we have put flowers in there so it looks very nice. We are to have a table between us, you and I. You shall choose which end you like best and I will take the other. Elle est ici, mademoiselle,” she called out when they reached the top of the stairs, and Jessie suddenly remembered that Adele knew French almost as well as English, and she felt herself very ignorant.

However, Miss Eloise gave her such a cordial greeting, and the schoolroom was so bright and cheery that she soon forgot everything but her interest in choosing which end of the table she preferred, and in looking at the books Miss Eloise had piled up. They were all fresh and new and Jessie liked new books. “I don’t know a word of French,” she said when she had seated herself.

“You need not say that very long,” said Miss Eloise.

“She need not say it five minutes from now,” put in Adele. “She can begin with _Bon jour_, can’t she, Miss Eloise? Say _Bon jour_, Jessie.”

Jessie obediently repeated the words.

“Now you can say good-day,” Adele told her, “and you can’t say any more that you don’t know a word of French.” Then she turned to Miss Eloise and chatted away volubly for a minute or two while Jessie listened and wondered if she would ever be so glib with a foreign tongue.

“I think I will make a rule that you are to speak to each other only in French during lesson hours,” said Miss Eloise. “That will give you both a chance and Jessie will be surprised how soon she will be able to understand and speak a number of words. Now we will start in with something else. Come here, Jessie, and show me how far you have gone in arithmetic and how well you can spell.”

It turned out that Jessie was far ahead of Adele in these studies, but that the latter knew more history and had a smattering of a number of other things which Jessie knew nothing about. But after a while Miss Eloise managed to arrange classes for them, dropping some of Adele’s studies, which did not seem necessary for the present, and adding some to Jessie’s list. But they had hardly settled down to real work before it was time for a morsel of lunch and a fifteen minutes’ run out-of-doors.

“I don’t think those were very bad pills to take,” said Jessie as the two sat munching their apples on the porch steps.

“They will be worse after a while, I suppose,” said Adele. “Wait till you have to sit at the piano and practice stupid exercises half an hour at a time. You won’t like that one bit.”

“I suppose not,” returned Jessie with a sigh. “But you don’t have to do that all the time, do you? You will have pieces after a while.”

“Oh, after a fashion, but they are not what I call tunes,” she said scornfully.

This sounded very discouraging, but Jessie was not going to give up hope. “Maybe some teachers do that way,” she said, “but I don’t believe Miss Eloise will.”

“Wait and see,” returned Adele with a wise shake of the head.

The tinkle of a little bell took them indoors to lessons again, and the next hour or two passed quickly, and to Jessie’s surprise very pleasantly. “It is much nicer than going to the Hill School,” she told her mother. “I know a whole lot of French and some of my notes on the piano. When I know them all am I going to have a piano, mother?”

“Not at present,” Mrs. Loomis told her. “You are to practice on Adele’s piano for a while. Pianos are rather expensive things and we shall have to save up a lot of eggs and butter before we can buy one.”

“Adele is richer than I am, isn’t she, mother?”

“In some things, perhaps, but she has no mother nor brothers.”

Jessie threw her arms around her mother’s neck and gave her a mighty hug. “And you are worth all the money in the world,” she said. “My two brothers are pretty far away, but I do see them sometimes, and that’s much better than not having any at all. Yes, I believe I am much richer than Adele. She hasn’t any pets either. Where is Eb, mother?”

“Oh, my dear, I don’t know. He is out-of-doors somewhere. We cannot have him in the house very often, for he gets into so much mischief.”

Jessie went out to find Eb, but not seeing him near, she concluded to go to Playmate Polly and tell her all about her morning at the yellow house, for Polly was always a good listener. It was rather pleasant, too, to feel free to do exactly as she liked after the restriction of a morning in the schoolroom.