"Fanny," she cried, clutching her arm, "there is Tom Selwyn! Well, now
we _are_ in luck!" And Tom saw her, and again he ducked, but for a
different reason. When he raised his head, he glanced cautiously in the
direction he dreaded. "There's that horrible person," he whispered in
Jasper's ear.
"Who?" asked Jasper, in astonishment.
"That woman on the steamer--you knew her--and she was looking straight
at us. Duck for your life, Jasper King!"
"Oh, that," said Jasper, coolly, following the bob of his head. "Yes,
Mrs. Vanderburgh, I know; and she is at our hotel."
"The dickens! And you're alive!" Tom raised his head and regarded him
as a curiosity.
"Very much so," answered Jasper, smothering a laugh; "well, we mustn't
talk any more."
Polly was sitting straight, her hands folded in her lap, with no
thought for audience, or anything but what she was to see and hear on
that wonderful stage. Old Mr. King leaned past Parson Henderson, and
gazed with the greatest satisfaction at her absorbed face.
"I pity anybody," he said to himself, "who hasn't some little Peppers
to take about; I only wish I had the boys, too. But fancy Joel
listening to 'Parsifal'!"
This idea completely overcame him, and he settled back into his seat
with a grim smile.
Polly never knew that Mamsie, with a happy look in her black eyes, was
regarding her intently, too, nor that many a glance was given to the
young girl whose colour came and went in her cheek, nor that Jasper
sometimes spoke a low word or two.
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