And so it turned out that Joel, who had to go down in the big brougham with Madam Van Ruypen to meet the mountain children, only just got home from that expedition in time to be whisked off to the other railroad station with the welcoming party to meet Grandpapa, Jasper, and Ben—oh, yes, and Pip!

"Whatever you do," Ben had taken special pains to write Joel long before, "be glad to see Pip."

And then, nobody knew exactly how they got home. But they did all right, and, of course, with a procession of friends to follow. There was Alexia—why, it goes without saying that she was there—and Pickering Dodge; Jasper wouldn't believe he was at home, really he wouldn't, without seeing Pick's face, while Pick's voice cried out, "Hello, old chap!" as no one else but Pickering could say it.

Well, and there was Pip's white little face with the scared eyes, for somehow the turmoil made him dreadfully afraid he was going to lose sight of Ben. So he clutched him with a desperate grip, getting in and out between all the welcoming groups with marvellous dexterity.

"Hulloa there, you little beggar!" It was Pickering Dodge who seized him. "Let Ben alone, can't you, a minute, till we've seen him." But the small figure struggled, his little wiry legs becoming so nimble around Pickering's longer ones, that the tall boy fell back. "Whew! Well, I must say I wouldn't be in your shoes, Ben!"

Ben laughed, then put out his hand and gathered up the thin nervous fingers.

"You can grin," said Pickering, as he moved off, "but I tell you it's no laughing matter, Ben Pepper. You'd much better shake off that leech while you can."

Meantime Joel had been making little runs around the group of which Ben was the centre; each step that he took nearer Pip he would dart off again in the opposite direction, only to think better of it and plunge up once more. On one such occasion he caught Ben's blue eyes fixed upon him reproachfully.

"Oh, I say, Pip," screamed Joel, prancing up, "come with me, I've lots to show you."

For answer he got a grimace done in Pip's best style, who crowded closer to Ben than before.

"You needn't then," said Joel, in a small passion. "Hoh! I don't really want you, only—"

"Joel!" said Ben.

"Well, he's a—a—"

"Joel!" Ben said it again. "Come, Pip, with me," and the two turned off.

"Ben," screamed Joel, in a dreadful voice, and dashing after him to seize his jacket-end. "Oh, I won't—I will, Ben, I'll be good."

"See that you are, then," said Ben, good-naturedly turning around. When he saw the others were not looking, "Now then, and you too, Pip, for I'm talking to you as much as to Joel, I expect you chaps to act like sensible beings, and be good friends. Shake hands now, and say you will."

Out flew Joel's sturdy brown paw. Pip drew his back, and glanced up at Ben to see if he really meant it.

"Any boy who isn't willing to do what I asked, can't be my friend," said Ben, coolly, and Pip felt his fingers shaken off from the big warm hand.

"Oh, Ben, I will be good, I will, Ben," cried the little fellow, in great distress. He threw up both his hands and flung himself against Ben.

"No, sir," said Ben, sturdily; "unless you shake hands with Joel, and promise to be a good friend to him, you can't stay with me."

"Come on," said Joel, a light dancing in his black eyes, and he stuck his little brown hand out more sociably yet. So Pip put his thin one within it, and then he drew a long breath, as if a terrible ordeal had just been passed.

"Well, he didn't bite you," said Ben, with a laugh, and taking possession of the thin little fingers once more, "eh, Pip?"

"No, I didn't bite you, did I, Pip?" chuckled Joel, dancing on Ben's other side. "Oh, Ben, now we can have our Christmas!"

"Yes, now we can have our Christmas!" The others racing after them took up the cry.

"And we're going to have it to-morrow," piped Phronsie, standing on her tiptoes. "Because Japser will be rested then, Grandpapa says."

"Oh, no, Phronsie," corrected Polly, dancing up, "not till day after to-morrow. Jasper has to rest to-morrow, you know, after the journey." Then she ran off to see if there was really nothing she could do to make him comfortable. But little Doctor Fisher, who had come up in the carriage with Jasper from the station, already had whisked him off to his room, with injunctions for no one to see him again that day. So Polly flew back again to hang over Ben and try to get acquainted with Pip.

"He can draw. Oh, you just ought to see him, Polly," confided Ben over Pip's tow-colored head.

"Really, Ben?" said Polly.

"Really?—well, I should say!" Then Ben laughed. "I wish I could do half as well."

"Oh, Ben!" exclaimed Polly, incredulously. "Perhaps he can do something, but he couldn't draw like you. He couldn't."

"Well," said Ben, with a long breath, "I only wish I could make my things seem as if they moved, Polly. Now his do, and mine look stiff as sticks."

"They don't either," contradicted Polly, with an uncomfortable little twist. And she looked down at Pip not quite so pleasantly.

"What are you two chaffing about?" cried Alexia, rushing up with her "whirlwind air" on, as Pickering always called it.

"Oh, something," said Ben, with twinkling eyes.

"Now tell me," said Alexia, greedily. "What was it, Ben?"

"Something," said Ben.

"You said that before," retorted Alexia.

"Well, and so I say it again," said Ben, coolly.

"What was it, Polly?" begged Alexia, seizing Polly's arm. "You've some piece of news, I just know; do tell me what it is!"

"Oh, ask Ben," said Polly, catching his spirit of mischief.

"Oh, I never saw such perfectly dreadful creatures," cried Alexia, tossing back her long light braids impatiently. "Nip—Flip—whatever your name is,"—glancing down at Pip, "you tell me, that's a good boy. What is it?"

"I shan't," said Pip, with a snap that brought his white teeth together smartly.

"Well, you needn't take my head off," said Alexia, tumbling back.

"Pip, now you must beg her pardon," said Ben, coming out of his laugh.

"She told me to tell on you, and I'm not going to," said Pip, his pale eyes flashing.

"Well, you needn't have refused in just such a way; so beg her pardon at once, like a man," said Ben, decidedly.

"And I'm sure I didn't suppose that Mr. King had brought home a snapping turtle," said Alexia, airily.

"There now, you see, Pip," said Ben, gravely, "how you will make trouble for all of us unless you behave."

Thereupon, Pip's thin lip trembling, he put out his hand to Alexia. "I'm sorry, and I never will tell you in all this world, never, never, never!"

"And I'm sure I don't care whether you do or not," said Alexia, as they all laughed, "only I'm not going to have my head eaten off, I can tell you that."

"Well, come on," said Polly, briskly, "and let's talk over Christmas. Oh, you can't think, Ben, what elegant things we are going to do!"

"Let's call all the others and get down on the library rug," proposed Ben.

"O dear me!" Polly's face fell. "Without Jasper?" she said.

"Now see here, Polly," said Ben, whirling around to get a good look at her face, "I promised Jasper I'd do my best to go on with everything the minute we got home, the same as if he were able to be in it all. I thought you'd help me, Polly, for I can't do anything without you." He looked so disapprovingly at her that she made haste to say, "Oh, I will, I will, Ben."

"Then run and get the others," said Ben, with a little pat on her back. "And you go, too, Alexia, that's a good girl."

"Of course, I will," said Alexia, "if Polly is going."

And almost as soon as one could write it, there they all were in a group on the big rug before the library fire, and Grandpapa in his easy-chair, smiling down at his family.

And little Doctor Fisher looked in to say that Jasper had stood the journey re-markably well, that he was now fast asleep, and that to-morrow he would be down among them all.

"Oh, goody! goody!" cried Polly, clapping her hands.

At this Phronsie slipped out from her nest where she had been sitting, her head in Polly's lap so that she could smooth the yellow waves away from the hot little cheeks, and, picking up her skirts, she began to dance, finishing up with a little cheese in the middle of the library floor.

"I don't mean you can have your Christmas to-morrow," the little doctor made haste to explain. "Jasper must have some hours of rest. But the day after—then says I." He took off his big spectacles, wiped them carefully, stuck them on his nose again, laughed gleefully at the babel of rejoicing he had set up, and was off.

"Well now, Phronsie," said Grandpapa, "you would better come and sit with me. I really need you, child."

"Do you, Grandpapa?" asked Phronsie, and coming up to his big chair, exceedingly pleased.

"Very much indeed," said the old gentleman, decidedly. "There, that's right," as she climbed up into his lap, and laid her head on his breast. "Now then, you and I can hear all these wonderful plans finely."

"We're going to have a Christmas," said Phronsie, putting up a soft little hand to pull his face down.

"No, really?"

"Yes, we are," said Phronsie, in grave delight. Then she bobbed up her head to look at him the closer. "We surely are, Grandpapa; and Polly is going to tell about it, she is."

"Well, then we must listen, you and I," said old Mr. King. "So we'll be still as mice, Phronsie," he whispered.

"Well, now," Polly was saying, drawing a long breath and smoothing down her gown; "O dear me! How shall we begin, we've so very much to tell? Ben—"

"Why, just begin," said Joel, impatiently, burrowing deeper in the rug, where he lay nearest to the fire.

"Do be still, Joe," said Alexia, with a little pinch.

"Ow!" said Joel. Then he reached out and took up one of her long braids.

"Whee!" exclaimed Alexia, flying around at him. "Oh, you bad boy, you pulled my hair awfully."

"Well, you pinched me," snorted Joel.

"Such a little nip," said Alexia, pulling both of her braids in front of her; "nothing at all like what you did to me. And you've mussed up my bow," she added, twitching it off to tie it again.

"Come, you two, stop your sparring," said Ben, with a laugh. "Goodness me, have you kept that up all the while I've been gone?"

"Every single day," said Alexia, tying the ribbon fast, and proceeding to pick out the bow-ends with critical fingers. "Joel's bad, always, you know."

"I suppose you are not, Alexia," said Ben, with another laugh.

"Well, come on, Polly, do begin," said Alexia, ignoring the question; and her bow being tied to her satisfaction, "although 'tisn't as good as it was before," she grumbled, "do hurry up."

"Well," said Polly, pushing back the little rings of brown hair from her forehead, "where shall I begin? Oh, I know,—we are going to—"

"She says there's a reply expected." The butler came up to the group and thrust out a big white note.

"You take it, Polly," said Ben.

"It's for Master Joel," said Hobson. And there it was in big, slanting letters clear across the envelope.

"Here's your missive, Joe," said Ben, catching it to toss it over to him. "Hurry up and read it so that Polly can go on."

"O dear me! Must we wait for this tiresome boy?" cried Alexia. "Can't you read your letter and let Polly tell just the same? You know all she is going to say, Joe."

"No, you are going to wait," said Joel, with a grimace at her.

"Hurry up, Joe, or we will go on," warned Ben.

So Joel tore open his letter and plunged into it. The next moment he stood outside the circle and stamped up and down the library floor like a wild beast. "I'm not going; I won't, I won't,—I—"

"Joey, what is the matter?" cried Polly, in great alarm, and springing out from the group, she ran up to seize his arm. But he slipped away from her.

"She wants me to go and play with those boys," cried Joel, in a towering passion, and plunging up and down. "I won't! So there! Let me alone, Polly," for she ran after him; this time she was more successful.

"Now see here," Ben jumped to his feet, "stop acting like a goose, Joel."

"He's more like a wild-cat," said Alexia, stretching herself comfortably in the space he had vacated.

"Joel, stop this moment," commanded Grandpapa. Joel's head dropped at the tone, but he ran over to the big easy-chair. Phronsie popped up her yellow head in dismay from its nest in the old gentleman's arms.

"Now don't you see how you are frightening this child to death?" said old Mr. King. "What is the matter, my boy?" for Joel's face was working dreadfully.

"She wants me—that old woman," began Joel, swallowing hard, and grasping the chair-arm for dear life.

"Who?"

"Madam—Madam—"

"Madam Van Ruypen?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, what does she want? Out with it. You're not to do it if you don't wish to, of course, so what's the use in feeling so? What does she want you to do, Joe?"

"She wants me to go over to see those—those boys," said Joel, in a burst.

"What boys, pray tell?" demanded Grandpapa, a trifle impatiently.

"Those boys who've just come," said Joel, "the washerwoman's boys. O dear!" He had great difficulty now in keeping the tears back; still, he managed it after a fashion.

"Whatever in the world are you talking of?" cried the old gentleman, helplessly. "Polly, come here, my child, and see if you can make any sense of what this boy is saying. I'm sure it is beyond me."

"Now, Joel," Polly was saying, and she had her hands on the ones hanging to the chair-arm, "you must just tell the whole thing so that we can understand what it is about, for you are making Grandpapa sick, and he has just come home," she added, reproachfully.

Joel gave one look into the face under the white hair, then he blurted out, "She sent for 'em, and they've come to-day—the washerwoman's boys. And we went to the station, and they came from the mountains. And I promised to go and help her take care of 'em, and,—and I won't, so there!" and he glanced at the whole group, as if they were all against him.

"Joel, did you promise to go and help Madam Van Ruypen?" asked Grandpapa, quietly, with a keen glance into the flushed face.

"Yes, sir. But she said she only wanted me 'cause Ben wasn't here."

"Did you promise her?" asked old Mr. King, just as quietly, and not taking his eyes away.

"Yes, sir; and there's a girl come too. And she said she guessed Polly would help take care of her." Joel began to snivel now.

"Never mind what Mrs. Van Ruypen said about anybody else," said Grandpapa, firmly. "You must go anyway, Joe, my boy, and keep that promise."

"O dear, dear, dear!" wailed Joel, now clear gone in distress.

"See here," Ben had with the greatest difficulty all this while kept from crying out. "Is it? Can it be? Has Madam Van Ruypen really sent for those poor children up in the mountains?" At last he broke out, "Oh, Grandpapa, may we all go? Come, Polly, you'll come, won't you?" He threw his arm around her.

"Where are you going?" cried Alexia, raising her head, where she had been luxuriously awaiting their return to the rug. "Polly Pepper, where are you going?"

"To Madam Van Ruypen's," said Polly, dancing off, her cheeks as red as two roses. "Come on, Alexia."

"Come on, yes. You lead the way and we'll follow," said Ben, bundling out of the room, Pip at his heels, followed closely by Pickering Dodge.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Alexia, getting up to her feet. "Percy—Van—what is it, do you know?" as they hopped up, and raced after the others.

"Come on," howled Joel, every tear gone, and smiles all over his round face. And looking back at her, for he wouldn't for the world have Alexia left behind. "It's a party over at that old woman's, Mad—" the rest was lost in his rush.

"Party?" repeated Alexia; "O dear me! Wait!" and she was off after them.

"She said there was an answer," repeated the butler, who hadn't stirred from his tracks.

"Er—oh," exclaimed the old gentleman. "Well, the answer will get there before a note could. That's all, Hobson. Now then, Phronsie, you and I will have a cosey time all to ourselves, child."