know," said Van, running over in his mind all the possible ways
he could think of for entertaining anybody, "unless she'd like my new
book of travels--or my velocipede," he added.

"I'm afraid those wouldn't quite answer the purpose," said his mamma,
smiling--"especially the last; yet we must think of something."

But just here Mr. King thought it about time to take matters into his
hands. So, with a great many chucklings and shruggings when no one was
by, he had departed after breakfast one day, simply saying he shouldn't
be back to lunch.

Polly sat in the drawing-room, near the edge of the twilight, practicing
away bravely. Somehow, of all the days when the home feeling was the
strongest, this day it seemed as if she could bear it no longer. If she
could only see Phronsie for just one moment! "I shall have to give up!"
she moaned. "I can't bear it!" and over went her head on the music rack.

"Where is she?" said a voice over in front of the piano, in the
gathering dusk--unmistakably Mr. King's.

"Oh, she's always at the piano," said Van. "She must be there now,
somewhere," and then somebody laughed. Then came in the loudest of
whispers from little Dick, "Oh, Jappy, what'll she say?"

"Hush!" said one of the other boys; "do be still, Dick!"

Polly sat up very straight, and whisked off the tears quickly. Up came
Mr. King with an enormous bundle in his arms; and he marched up to the
piano, puffing with his exertions.

"Here, Polly, hold your arms," he had only strength to gasp. And then he
broke out into a loud burst of merriment, in which all the troop joined,
until the big room echoed with the sound.

At this, the bundle opened suddenly, and--out popped Phronsie!

"Here I'm! I'm here, Polly!"

But Polly couldn't speak; and if Jasper hadn't caught her just in time,
she would have tumbled over backward from the stool, Phronsie and all!

"Aren't you glad I've come, Polly?" asked Phronsie, with her little face
close to Polly's own.

That brought Polly to. "Oh, Phronsie!" she cried, and strained her to
her heart; while the boys crowded around, and plied her with sudden
questions.

"Now you'll stay," cried Van; "say, Polly, won't you."

"Weren't you awfully surprised?" cried Percy; "say, Polly, awfully?"

"Is her name Phronsie," put in Dick, unwilling to be left out, and not
thinking of anything else to ask.

"Boys," whispered their mother, warningly, "she can't answer you; just
look at her face."

And