Mrs. Fisher's cheek grew a shade paler, but she said not a word as she
fastened her black eyes on his face.

"Hem--well, we don't talk much about those boys," observed the old
gentleman, "because it makes us all homesick after them, and it's best
that they should be there, and that we should be here, so that was
settled once for all by our coming."

Still Mrs. Fisher said not a word.

"Well, now, the fact of it is," continued old Mr. King, still keeping
to the main point with wonderful directness, "I think the time has come
for us to act, which is much better than talking, in my opinion; and I
want to do something for those boys."

A pin could have been heard to drop. Polly leaned over his chair and
hung on his words, while Mrs. Fisher never took her eyes from his face.

"In short," continued old Mr. King, well pleased with the attention of
his audience, "I propose that we send a box of good things of various
descriptions to Ben and Joel and David."

A small howl of delight from Polly broke the silence. When she heard
that, Phronsie gave a little crow. "Oh, Grandpapa!" exclaimed Polly,
"do you really mean it?" and she threw her arms around his neck.
Phronsie immediately clambered up and did the same thing.

"That's just as your mother shall decide," said Mr. King, immensely
pleased with the way his news was received. "She hasn't said a word yet
whether she likes the idea or not."