About Peggy Saville, by Mrs George de Horne Vaizey. 

________________________________________________________________________I have used part of the same introduction for this book, as I did forone of the books about Pixie O'Shaughnessy, not because the books areanything like the same, but because the observations are equally valid. 

This is another excellent book by Mrs de Horne Vaizey, dating from theend of the nineteenth century. While of course it is dated in itsreferences to the world around its actors, yet nevertheless theiremotions are well-described, and no doubt are timeless. 

Some older children are being educated at a Vicarage near Brighton, along with the vicar's own three. Peggy Saville is a "new girl", havingpreviously lived in India, where her parents still are. She has greattalent in some directions, but still has to add up by counting on herfingers! She certainly gets up to some tricks, though. 

There is a fire at a dance given by the titled family of one of thepupils, from which Peggy rescues the daughter of the house. Both girlsare injured, Peggy the more severely, but eventually they are both onthe way to recovery. 

In some ways the world around the people in the book is recognisabletoday, in a way which a book written thirty or forty years before wouldnot have been. They have electricity, telephones, trains, buses, andmany other things that we still use regularly today. Of course onemajor difference is that few people today have servants, whilemiddle-class and upper-class families of the eighteen nineties wouldcertainly have had them. 

So it is not so very dated after all. But I do think there is a realvalue in reading the book. Oddly enough, I think that a boy wouldbenefit from reading any of the author's books, more than a girl would, because it would give him an insight into the girlish mind which hecould not so easily otherwise obtain. 

________________________________________________________________________

ABOUT PEGGY SAVILLE, BY MRS GEORGE DE HORNE VAIZEY. 

CHAPTER ONE. 

A NEW INMATE. 

The afternoon post had come in, and the Vicar of Renton stood in the baywindow of his library reading his budget of letters. He was a tall, thin man, with a close-shaven face, which had no beauty of feature, butwhich was wonderfully attractive all the same. It was not an old face, but it was deeply lined, and those who knew and loved him best couldtell the meaning of each of those eloquent tracings. The deep verticalmark running up the forehead meant sorrow. It had been stamped therefor ever on the night when Hubert, his first-born, had been broughtback, cold and lifeless, from the river to which he had hurried forthbut an hour before, a picture of happy boyhood. The vicar's brow hadbeen smooth enough before that day. The furrow was graven to the memoryof Teddy, the golden-haired lad who had first taught him the joys offatherhood. The network of lines about the eyes were caused by thehundred and one little worries of everyday life, and the strain ofworking a delicate body to its fullest pitch; and the two long, deepstreaks down the cheeks bore testimony to that happy sense of humourwhich showed the bright side of a question, and helped him out of many aslough of despair. This afternoon, as he stood reading his letters oneby one, the different lines deepened, or smoothed out, according to thenature of the missive. Now he smiled, now he sighed, anon he crumpledup his face in puzzled thought, until the last letter of all wasreached, when he did all three in succession, ending up with a lowwhistle of surprise--

"Edith! This is from Mrs Saville. Just look at this!"

Instantly there came a sound of hurried rising from the other end of theroom; a work-basket swayed to and fro on a rickety gipsy-table, and thevicar's wife walked towards him, rolling half a dozen reels of thread inher wake with an air of fine indifference. 

"Mrs Saville!" she exclaimed eagerly. "How is my boy?" and withoutwaiting for an answer she seized the letter, and began to devour itscontents, while her husband went stooping about over the floor pickingup the contents of the scattered basket and putting them carefully backin their places. He smiled to himself as he did so, and kept turningamused, tender glances at his wife as she stood in the uncarpeted spacein the window, with the sunshine pouring in on her eager face. MrsAsplin had been married for twenty years, and was the mother of threebig children; but such was the buoyancy of her Irish nature and theirrepressible cheeriness of her heart, that she was in good truth theyoungest person in the house, so that her own daughters were sometimesquite shocked at her levity of behaviour, and treated her with gentle, motherly restraint. She was tall and thin, like her husband, and he, atleast, considered her every whit as beautiful as she had been a score ofyears before. Her hair was dark and curly; she had deep-set grey eyes, and a pretty fresh complexion. When she was well, and rushing about inher usual breathless fashion, she looked like the sister of her own tallgirls; and when she was ill, and the dark lines showed under her eyes, she looked like a tired, wearied girl, but never for a moment as if shedeserved such a title as an old, or elderly, woman. Now, as she read, her eyes glowed, and she uttered ecstatic little exclamations of triumphfrom time to time; for Arthur Saville, the son of the lady who was thewriter of the letter, had been the first pupil whom her husband hadtaken into his house to coach, and as such had a special claim on heraffection. For the first dozen years of their marriage all had gonesmoothly with Mr and Mrs Asplin, and the vicar had had more work thanhe could manage in his busy city parish; then, alas, lung trouble hadthreatened; he had been obliged to take a year's rest, and to exchangehis living for a sleepy little parish, where he could breathe fresh air, and take life at a slower pace. Illness, the doctor's bills, the year'sholiday, ran away with a large sum of money; the stipend of the countrychurch was by no means generous, and the vicar was lamenting the factthat he was shortest of money just when his children were growing up andhe needed it most, when an old college friend requested, as a favour, that he would undertake the education of his only son, for a year atleast, so that the boy might be well grounded in his studies beforegoing on to the military tutor who was to prepare him for Sandhurst. Handsome terms were quoted, the vicar looked upon the offer as a leadingof Providence, and Arthur Saville's stay at the vicarage proved asuccess in every sense of the word. He was a clever boy who was notafraid of work, and the vicar discovered in himself an unsuspectedgenius for teaching. Arthur's progress not only filled him withdelight, but brought the offer of other pupils, so that he was but theforerunner of a succession of bright, handsome boys, who came from farand wide to be prepared for college, and to make their home at thevicarage. They were honest, healthy-minded lads, and Mrs Asplin lovedthem all, but no one had ever taken Arthur Saville's place. During theyear which he had spent under her roof he had broken his collar-bone, sprained his ankle, nearly chopped off the top of one of his fingers, scalded his foot, and fallen crash through a plate-glass window. Therehad never been one moment's peace or quietness; she had gone about frommorning to night in chronic fear of a disaster; and, as a matter ofcourse, it followed that Arthur was her darling, ensconced in a littleniche of his own, from which subsequent pupils tried in vain to ousthim. 

Mrs Saville dwelt upon the latest successes of her clever son with amother's pride, and his second mother beamed, and smiled, and cried, "Itold you so!"

"Dear boy!"

"Of course he did!" in delighted echo. But when she came to the secondhalf of the letter her face changed, and she grew grave and anxious. "And now, dear Mr Asplin, " Mrs Saville wrote, "I come to the realburden of my letter. I return to India in autumn, and am most anxiousto see Peggy happily settled before I leave. She has been at thisBrighton school for four years, and has done well with her lessons, butthe poor child seems so unhappy at the thought of returning, that I amsorely troubled about her. Like most Indian children, she has had verylittle home life, and after being with me for the last six months shedreads the prospect of school, and I cannot bear the thought of sendingher back against her will. I was puzzling over the question yesterday, when it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps you, dear Mr Asplin, couldhelp me out of my difficulty. Could you--would you, take her in handfor the next three years, letting her share the lessons of your own twogirls? I cannot tell you what a relief and joy it would be to feel thatshe was under your care. Arthur always looks back on the year spentwith you as one of the brightest of his life; and I am sure Peggy wouldbe equally happy. I write to you from force of habit, but really Ithink this letter should have been addressed to Mrs Asplin, for it isshe who would be most concerned. I know her heart is large enough tomother my dear girl during my absence; and if strength and time willallow her to undertake this fresh charge, I think she will be glad tohelp another mother by doing so. Peggy is bright and clever, like herbrother, and strong on the whole, though her throat needs care. She isnearly fifteen--the age, I think, of your youngest girl--and we shouldbe pleased to pay the same terms as we did for Arthur. Now, please, dear Mr Asplin, talk the matter over with your wife, and let me knowyour decision as soon as possible. "

Mrs Asplin dropped the letter on the floor, and turned to confront herhusband. 

"Well!"

"Well?"

"It is your affair, dear, not mine. You would have the trouble. Couldyou do with an extra child in the house?"

"Yes, yes, so far as that goes. The more the merrier. I should like tohelp Arthur's mother, but, "--Mrs Asplin leant her head on one side, andput on what her children described as her "Ways and Means" expression. She was saying to herself, --"Clear out the box-room over the study. Spare chest-of-drawers from dressing-room--cover a box with one of theold chintz curtains for an ottoman--enamel the old blue furniture--newcarpet and bedstead, say five or six pounds outlay--yes! I think Icould make it pretty for five pounds!... " The calculations lasted forabout two minutes, at the end of which time her brow cleared, she noddedbrightly, and said in a crisp, decisive tone, "Yes, we will take her!Arthur's throat was delicate too. She must use my gargle. "

The vicar laughed softly. 

"Ah! I thought that would decide it. I knew your soft heart would notbe able to resist the thought of the delicate throat! Well, dear, ifyou are willing, so am I. I am glad to make hay while the sun shines, and lay by a little provision for the children. How will they take it, do you think? They are accustomed to strange boys, but a girl will be anew experience. She will come at once, I suppose, and settle down towork for the autumn. Dear me! dear me! It is the unexpected thathappens. I hope she is a nice child. "

"Of course she is. She is Arthur's sister. Come! the young folks arein the study. Let us go and tell them the news. I have always said itwas my ambition to have half a dozen children, and now, at last, it isgoing to be gratified. "

Mrs Asplin thrust her hand through her husband's arm, and led him downthe wide, flagged hall, towards the room whence the sound of merry youngvoices fell pleasantly upon the ear. 

CHAPTER TWO. 

MELLICENT'S PROPHECY. 

The schoolroom was a long, bare apartment running along one side of thehouse, and boasting three tall windows, through which the sun poured inon a shabby carpet and ink-stained tables. Everything looked well wornand, to a certain extent, dilapidated, yet there was an air of cheerfulcomfort about the whole which is not often found in rooms of the kind. Mrs Asplin revelled in beautiful colours, and would tolerate no draband saffron papers in her house; so the walls were covered with a richsoft blue; the cushions on the wicker chairs rang the changes from roseto yellow; a brilliant Japanese screen stood in one corner, and a wirestand before the open grate held a number of flowering plants. A youngfellow of seventeen or eighteen was seated at one end of the tableemployed in arranging a selection of foreign stamps. This was Maxwell, the vicar's eldest surviving son, who was to go up to Oxford at thebeginning of the year, and was at present reading under his father'ssupervision. His sister Mellicent was perched on the table itself, watching his movements, and vouchsafing scraps of advice. Hersuggestions were received with sniffs of scornful superiority, butMellicent prattled on unperturbed, being a plump, placid person, withflaxen hair, blue eyes, and somewhat obtuse sensibilities. The eldergirl was sitting reading by the window, leaning her head on her hand, and showing a long, thin face, comically like her father's, with thesame deep lines running down her cheeks. She was neither so pretty norso even-tempered as her sister, but she had twice the character, and wasa young person who made her individuality felt in the house; whileMaxwell was the beauty of the family, with his mother's crisp, darklocks, grey eyes, and brunette colouring. 

These three young people were the vicar's only surviving children; butthere were two more occupants of the room--the two lads who were beingcoached to enter the University at the same time as his own son. Numberone was a fair, dandified-looking youth, who sat astride a deck-chair, with his trousers hitched up so as to display long, narrow feet, shod inscarlet silk socks and patent-leather slippers. He had fair hair, curling over his forehead; bold blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and an airof being very well satisfied with the world in general and himself inparticular. This was Oswald Elliston, the son of a country squire, whohad heard of the successes of Mr Asplin's pupils, and was storing updisappointment for himself in expecting similar exploits from his ownhandsome, but by no means over-brilliant, son. The second pupil had asmall microscope in his hand, and was poring over a collection of"specimens, " with his shoulders hitched up to his ears, in a positionthe reverse of elegant. Every now and then he would bend his head towrite down a few notes on the paper beside him, showing a square-chinnedface, with heavy eyebrows and strong roughly-marked features. Hisclothes were worn, his cuffs invisible, and his hair ruffled into wildconfusion by the unconscious rubbings of his hands; and this was theHonourable Robert Darcy, third son of Lord Darcy, a member of theCabinet, and a politician of world-wide reputation. 

The servants at the vicarage were fond of remarking, apropos of theHonourable Robert, that he "didn't look it"; which remark would havebeen a subject of sincere gratification to the lad himself, had it beenoverheard; for there was no surer way of annoying him than by referringto his position, or giving him the prefix to which he was entitled. 

The young folks looked up inquiringly as Mr and Mrs Asplin entered theroom, for the hour after tea was set apart for recreation, and theelders were usually only too glad to remain in their own quiet littlesanctum. Oswald, the gallant, sprang to his feet and brought forward achair for Mrs Asplin, but she waved him aside, and broke impetuouslyinto words. 

"Children! we have news for you. You are going to have a new companion. Father has had a letter this afternoon about another pupil--"

Mellicent yawned, and Esther looked calmly uninterested, but the threelads were full of interest. Their faces turned towards the vicar withexpressions of eager curiosity. 

"A new fellow! This term! From what school, sir?"

"A ladies' boarding-school at Brighton!" Mrs Asplin spoke rapidly, soas to be beforehand with her husband, and her eyes danced withmischievous enjoyment, as she saw the dismay depicted on the threewatching faces. A ladies' school! Maxwell, Oswald, and Robert, had avision of a pampered pet in curls, and round jacket, and their backsstiffened in horrified indignation at the idea that grown men ofseventeen and eighteen should be expected to associate with a "kid" froma ladies' school!

The vicar could not restrain a smile, but he hastened to correct themistake. "It's not a `fellow' at all, this time. It's a girl! We havehad a letter from Arthur Saville's mother, asking us to look after herdaughter while she is in India. She will come to us very soon, andstay, I suppose, for three or four years, sharing your lessons, mydears, and studying with you--"

"A girl! Good gracious! Where will she sleep?" cried Mellicent, withcharacteristic matter-of-fact curiosity, while Esther chimed in withfurther inquiries. 

"What is her name? How old is she? What is she like? When will shecome? Why is she leaving school?"

"Not very happy. Peggy. In the little box-room over the study. Aboutfifteen, I believe. Haven't the least idea. In a few weeks from now, "said Mrs Asplin, answering all the questions at once in her impulsivefashion, the while she walked round the table, stroked Maxwell's curls, bent an interested glance at Robert's collection, and laid a hand onEsther's back, to straighten bowed shoulders. "She is Arthur's sister, so she is sure to be nice, and both her parents will be in India, so youmust all be kind to the poor little soul, and give her a heartywelcome. "

Silence! Nobody had a word to say in response to this remark; but theeyes of the young people met furtively across the table, and Mr Asplinfelt that they were only waiting until their seniors should withdrawbefore bursting into eager conversation. 

"Better leave them to have it out by themselves, " he whisperedsignificantly to his wife; then added aloud, "Well, we won't interruptyou any longer. Don't turn the play-hour into work, Rob! You willstudy all the better for a little relaxation. You have proved the truthof that axiom, Oswald--eh?" and he went laughing out of the room, whileOswald held the door open for his wife, smiling assent in lazy fashion. 

"Another girl!" he exclaimed, as he reseated himself on his chair, andlooked with satisfaction at his well-shod feet. "This is an unexpectedblow! A sister of the redoubtable Saville! From all I have heard ofhim, I should imagine a female edition would be rather a terror in aquiet household. I never saw Saville, --what sort of a fellow was he tolook at, don't you know?"

Mellicent reflected. 

"He had a nose!" she said solemnly. Then, as the others burst intohilarious laughter, "Oh, it's no use shrieking at me; I mean what Isay, " she insisted. "A big nose--like Wellington's! When people arevery clever, they always have big noses. I imagine Peggy small, with alittle thin face, because she was born in India, and lived there untilshe was six years old, and a great big nose in the middle--"

"Sounds appetising, " said Maxwell shortly. "I don't! I imagine Peggylike her mother, with blue eyes and brown hair. Mrs Saville is awfullypretty. I have seen her often, and if her daughter is like her--"

"I don't care in the least how she looks, " said Esther severely. "It'sher character that matters. Indian children are generally spoiled, andif she has been to a boarding-school she may give herself airs. Then weshall quarrel. I am not going to be patronised by a girl of fourteen. I expect she will be Mellicent's friend, not mine. "

"I wonder what sums she is in!" said Mellicent dreamily. "Rob! what doyou think about it? Are you glad or sorry? You haven't said anythingyet. "

Robert raised his eyes from his microscope, and looked her up and down, very much as a big Newfoundland dog looks at the terrier which disturbsits slumber. 

"It's nothing to me, " he said loftily. "She may come if she likes. "Then, with sudden recollection, "Does she learn the violin? Because wehave already _one_ girl in this house who is learning the violin, andlife won't be worth living if there is a second. "

He tucked his big notebook under his chin as he spoke, and began sawingacross it with a pencil, wagging his head and rolling his eyes, inimitation of Mellicent's own manner of practising, producing at the sametime such long-drawn, catlike wails from between his closed lips as madethe listeners shriek with laughter. Mellicent, however, felt bound toexpostulate. 

"It's not the tune at all, " she cried loudly. "Not like any of mypieces; and if I _do_ roll my eyes, I don't rumple up my hair and pullfaces at the ceiling, as _some_ people do, and I know who they are, butI am too polite to say so! I hope Peggy will be my friend, because thenthere will be two of us, and you won't dare to tease me any more. WhenArthur was here, a boy pulled my hair, and he carried him upstairs andheld his head underneath the shower-bath. "

"I'll pull it again, and see if Peggy will do the same, " said Robpleasantly; and poor Mellicent stared from one smiling face to another, conscious that she was being laughed at, but unable to see the point ofthe joke. 

"When Peggy comes, " she said, in an injured tone, "I hope she will besympathetic. I'm the youngest, and I think you ought all to do what Iwant; instead of which you make fun, and laugh among yourselves, andsend me messages. For instance, when Max wanted his stamps broughtdown--"

Maxwell passed his big hand over her hair and face, then, reversing thedirection, rubbed up the point of the little snub nose. 

"Never mind, chubby, your day is over! We will make Peggy themessage-boy now. Peggy will be a nice, meek little girl, who will liketo run messages for her betters! She shall be my fag, and attend to me. I'll give her my stamps to sort. "

"I rather thought of having her for fag myself; we can't admit a girl toour study unless she makes herself useful, " said Oswald languidly;whereupon Rob banged the notebook on the table with clanging decision. 

"Peggy belongs to me, " he announced firmly. "It's no use you twofellows quarrelling. That matter is settled once for all. Peggy willbe my fag; I've barleyed her for myself, and you have nothing to say inthe matter. "

But Esther tossed her head with an air of superior wisdom. 

"Wait till she comes, " she said sagely. "If Peggy is anything like herbrother, you may spare yourself the trouble of planning as to what shemust or must not do. It is waste of time. Peggy will be mistress overus all!"

CHAPTER THREE. 

ENTER MISS SAVILLE!

A fortnight later Peggy Saville arrived at the vicarage. Her motherbrought her, stayed for a couple of hours, and then left for the timebeing; but as she was to pay some visits in the neighbourhood it wasunderstood that this was not the final parting, and that she would spendseveral afternoons with her daughter before sailing for India. On thisoccasion, however, none of the young people saw her, for they were outduring the afternoon, and were just settling down to tea in theschoolroom when the wheels of the departing carriage crunched down thedrive. 

"Now for it!" cried Maxwell, and they looked at one another in silence, knowing full well what would happen. Mrs Asplin would think anintroduction to her young friends the best distraction for the strangegirl after her mother's departure, and the next item in the programmewould be the appearance of Miss Peggy herself. Esther rearranged thescattered tea-things; Oswald felt to see if his necktie was in position, and Robert hunched his shoulders and rolled his eyes at Mellicent indistracting fashion. Each one sat with head cocked on one side, in anattitude of eager attention. The front door banged, footstepsapproached, and Mrs Asplin's high, cheerful tones were heard drawingnearer and nearer. 

"This way, dear, " she was saying. "They are longing to see you!"

The listeners gave a simultaneous gulp of excitement, the door opened, and--Peggy entered!

She was not in the least what they had expected! This was neither theblonde beauty of Maxwell's foretelling, nor the black-haired elfdescribed by Mellicent. The first glance was unmitigateddisappointment. 

"She is not a bit pretty, " was the mental comment of the two girls. "What a funny little soul!" that of the three big boys, who had risen onMrs Asplin's entrance, and now stood staring at the new-comer withcurious eyes. 

Peggy was slight and pale, and at the first sight her face gave acomical impression of being made up of a succession of peaks. Her hairhung in a pigtail down her back, and grew in a deep point on herforehead; her finely-marked eyebrows were shaped like eaves, and herchin was for all the world like that of a playful kitten. Even thevelvet trimming on her dress accentuated this peculiarity, as itzigzagged round the sleeves and neck. The hazel eyes were light andbright, and flitted from one figure to another with a suspicioustwinkling; but nothing could have been more composed, more demure, orpatronisingly grown-up than the manner in which this strange girl borethe scrutiny which was bent upon her. 

"Here are your new friends, Peggy, " cried Mrs Asplin cheerily. "Theyalways have tea by themselves in the schoolroom, and do what they pleasefrom four to five o'clock. Now just sit down, dear, and take your placeamong them at once. Esther will make room for you by her side, andintroduce you to the others. I will leave you to make friends. I knowyoung people get on better when they are left alone. "

She whisked out of the room in her impetuous fashion, and Peggy Savilleseated herself in the midst of a ghastly silence. The young people hadbeen prepared to cheer and encourage a bashful stranger, but theself-possession of this thin, pale-faced girl took them by surprise, sothat they sat round the table playing uncomfortably with teaspoons andknives, and irritably conscious that they, and not the new-comer, werethe ones to be overcome with confusion. The silence lasted for a goodtwo minutes, and was broken at last by Miss Peggy herself. 

"Cream _and_ sugar!" she said, in a tone of sweet insinuation. "Twolumps, if you please. Not very strong, and as hot as possible. Thankyou! So sorry to be a trouble. "

Esther fairly jumped with surprise, and seizing the teapot, filled theempty cup in haste. Then she remembered the dreaded airs of theboarding-school miss, and her own vows of independence, and made agallant effort to regain composure. 

"No trouble at all. I hope that will be right. Please help yourself. Bread--and--butter--scones--cake! I must introduce you to the rest, andthen you will feel more at home! I am Esther, the eldest, a year olderthan you, I think. This is Mellicent, my younger sister, fourteen lastFebruary. I think you are about the same age. " She paused a moment, and Peggy looked across the table and said, "How do you do, dear?" in anaffable, grandmotherly fashion, which left poor Mellicent speechless, and filled the others with delighted amusement. But their own turn wascoming. Esther pulled herself together, and went on steadily with herintroductions. "This is Maxwell, my brother, and these are father's twopupils--Oswald Elliston, and Robert--the Honourable Robert Darcy. " Shewas not without hope that the imposing sound of the latter name wouldshake the self-possession of the stranger, but Peggy inclined her headwith the air of a queen, drawled out a languid, "Pleased to see you!"and dropped her eyes with an air of indifference, which seemed to implythat an "Honourable" was an object of no interest whatever, and that shewas really bored by the number of her titled acquaintances. The boyslooked at each other with furtive glances of astonishment. Mellicentspread jam all over her plate, and Esther unconsciously turned on thehandle of the urn and deluged the tray with water, but no one ventured asecond remark, and once again it was Peggy's voice that opened theconversation. 

"And is this the room in which you pursue your avocations? It has awarm and cheerful exposure. "

"Er--yes! This is the schoolroom. Mellicent and I have lessons here inthe morning from our German governess, while the boys are in the studywith father. In the afternoon, from two to four, they use it forpreparation, and we go out to classes. We have music lessons on Monday, painting on Tuesday, calisthenics and wood-carving on Thursday andFriday. Wednesday and Saturday are half-holidays. Then from four tosix the room is common property, and we have tea together and amuseourselves as we choose. "

"A most desirable arrangement. Thank you! Yes, --I _will_ take a scone, as you are so kind!" said Peggy blandly; a remark which covered the fiveyoung people with confusion, since none of them had noticed that herplate was empty. Each one made a grab in the direction of the plate ofscones; the girls failed to reach it, while Oswald, twitching it fromRobert's hands, jerked half the contents on the table, and had to pickthem up, while Miss Saville looked on with a smile of indulgentsuperiority. 

"Accidents will happen, will they not?" she said sweetly, as she lifteda scone from the plate, with her little finger cocked well in the air, and nibbled it daintily between her small white teeth. "A mostdelicious cake! Home-made, I presume? Perhaps of your own concoction?"

Esther muttered an inarticulate assent, and once more the conversationlanguished. She looked appealingly at Maxwell. As the son of thehouse, the eldest of the boys, it was his place to take the lead, butMaxwell looked the picture of embarrassment. He did not suffer frombashfulness as a rule, but since Peggy Saville had come into the room hehad been seized with an appalling self-consciousness. His feet felt inthe way, his arms seemed too long for practical purposes, his elbows hada way of invading other people's precincts, and his hands looked red andclammy. It occurred to him dimly that he was not a man after all, butonly a big overgrown schoolboy, and that little Miss Saville knew asmuch, and was mildly pitiful of his shortcomings. He was not at allanxious to attract the attention of the sharp little tongue, so hepassed on the signal to Mellicent, kicking her foot under the table, andfrowning vigorously in the direction of the stranger. 

"Er, "--began Mellicent, anxious to respond to the signal, but lamentablyshort of ideas, --"Er, --Peggy! Are you fond of sums? I'm in decimals. Do you like fractions? I think they are hateful. I could do vulgarspretty well, but decimals are fearful. They never come right. Soawfully difficult. "

"Patience and perseverance overcome difficulties. Keep up your courage. I'll help you with them, dear, " said Peggy encouragingly, closing hereyes the while, and coughing in a faint and ladylike manner. 

She could not really be only fourteen, Mellicent reflected. She talkedas if she were quite grown-up, --older than Esther, seventeen or eighteenat the very least. What a little white face she had! what a great thickplait of hair! How erect she held herself! Fraulein would never haveto rebuke her new pupil for stooping shoulders. It was kind of her topromise help with those troublesome decimals! Quite too good an offerto refuse. 

"Thank you very much, " she said heartily, "I'll show you some after tea. Perhaps you may be able to make me understand better than Fraulein. It's very good of you, P--" A quick change of expression warned her thatsomething was wrong, and she checked herself to add hastily, "You wantto be called `Peggy, ' don't you? No? Then what must we call you? Whatis your real name?"

"Mariquita!" sighed the damsel pensively, "after my grandmother--Spanish. A beautiful and unscrupulous woman at the court of Philip theSecond. " She said "unscrupulous" with an air of pride, as though it hadbeen "virtuous, " or some other word of a similar meaning, and pronouncedthe name of the king with a confidence that made Robert gasp. 

"Philip the Second? Surely not? He was the husband of our Mary in1572. That would make it just a trifle too far back for yourgrandmother, wouldn't it?" he inquired sceptically; but Mariquitaremained absolutely unperturbed. 

"It must have been someone else, then, I suppose. How clever of you toremember! I see you know something about history, " she said suavely; aremark which caused an amused glance to pass between the young people, for Robert had a craze for history of all description, and had seriousthought of becoming a second Carlyle so soon as his college course wasover. 

Maxwell put his handkerchief to his mouth to stifle a laugh, and kickedout vigorously beneath the table, with the intention of sharing hisamusement with his friend Oswald. It seemed, however, that he had aimedamiss, for Mariquita fell back in her chair, and laid her hand on herheart. 

"I think there must be some slight misunderstanding. That's my footthat you are kicking! I cut it very badly on the ice last winter, andthe least touch causes acute suffering. Please don't apologise; itdoesn't matter in the least, " and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, like one in mortal agony. 

It was the last straw. Maxwell's embarrassment had reached such a pitchthat he could bear no more. He murmured some unintelligible words, andbolted from the room, and the other two boys lost no time in followinghis example. 

In subsequent conversations, Mellicent always referred to this occasionas "the night when Robert had _one cup_, " it being, in truth, the onlyoccasion since this young gentleman entered the vicarage when he hadneglected to patronise the teapot three or four times in succession. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

GOOD-BYE, MARIQUITA!

For four long days had Mariquita Saville dwelt beneath Mr Asplin'sroof, and her companions still gazed upon her with fear and trembling, as a mysterious and extraordinary creature whom they altogether failedto understand. She talked like a book; she behaved like awell-conducted old lady of seventy, and she sat with folded hands gazingaround, with a curious, dancing light in her hazel eyes, which seemed toimply that there was some tremendous joke on hand, the secret of whichwas known only to herself. Esther and Mellicent had confided theirimpressions to their mother; but in Mrs Asplin's presence Peggy wasjust a quiet, modest girl, a trifle shy, as was natural under thecircumstances, but with no marked peculiarity of any kind. She answeredto the name of "Peggy, " to which address she was at other timespersistently deaf, and sat with neat little feet crossed before her, thepicture of a demure, well-behaved young schoolgirl. The sisters assuredtheir mother that Mariquita was a very different person in theschoolroom, but when she inquired as to the nature of the difference, itwas not easy to explain. 

She talked so grandly, and used such great big words!--"A good thing, too, " Mrs Asplin averred. She wished the rest would follow herexample, and not use so much foolish, meaningless slang. --Her eyeslooked so bright and mocking, as if she were laughing at something allthe time. --Poor, dear child! could she not talk as she liked? It was agreat blessing she _could_ be bright, poor lamb, with such a partingbefore her!--She was so grown-up, and patronising, and superior!--Tut!tut! Nonsense! Peggy had come from a boarding-school, and her wayswere different from theirs--that was all. They must not take stupidnotions, but be kind and friendly, and make the poor girl feel at home. 

Fraulein on her side reported that her new pupil was docile andobedient, and anxious to get on with her studies, though not so faradvanced as might have been expected. Esther was far ahead of her inmost subjects, and Mellicent learned with pained surprise that she knewnothing whatever about decimal fractions. 

"Circumstances, dear, " she explained, "circumstances over which I had nocontrol prevented an acquaintance, but no doubt I shall soon know allabout them, and then I shall be pleased to give you the promised help;"and Mellicent found herself saying, "Thank you, " in a meek andsubmissive manner, instead of indulging in a well-merited rebuke. 

No amount of ignorance seemed to daunt Mariquita, or to shake her beliefin herself. When Maxwell came to grief in a Latin essay, she looked upand said, "Can I assist you?" and when Robert read aloud a passage fromCarlyle, she laid her head on one side and said, "Now, do you know, I amnot altogether sure that I am with him on that point!" with an assurancewhich paralysed the hearers. 

Esther and Mellicent discussed seriously together as to whether theyliked, or disliked, this extraordinary creature, and had greatdifficulty in coming to a conclusion. She teased, puzzled, aggravated, and provoked them; therefore, if they had any claim to be logical, theyshould dislike her cordially, yet somehow or other they could not bringthemselves to say that they disliked Mariquita. There were moments whenthey came perilously near loving the aggravating creature. Already itgave them quite a shock to look back upon the time when there was noPeggy Saville to occupy their thoughts, and life without the interest ofher presence would have seemed unspeakably flat and uninteresting. Shewas a bundle of mystery. Even her looks seemed to exercise an uncannyfascination. On the evening of her arrival the unanimous opinion hadbeen that she was decidedly plain, but there was something about thepale little face which always seemed to invite a second glance, and themore closely you gazed, the more complete was the feeling ofsatisfaction. 

"Her face is so _neat_, " Mellicent said to herself; and the adjectivewas not inappropriate, for Peggy's small features looked as though theyhad been modelled by the hand of a fastidious artist, and the air ofdainty finish extended to her hands and feet and slight, gracefulfigure. 

The subject came up for discussion on the third evening after Peggy'sarrival, when she had been called out of the room to speak to MrsAsplin for a few minutes. Esther gazed after her as she walked acrossthe floor with her dignified tread, and when the door was closed shesaid slowly--

"I don't think Mariquita is as plain now as I did at first; do you, Oswald?"

"N-no! I don't think I do. I should not call her exactly plain. Sheis a funny little thing, but there's something nice about her face. "

"Very nice!"

"Last night in the pink dress she looked almost pretty. "

"Y-es!"

"Quite pretty!"

"Y-es! really quite pretty. "

"We shall think her lovely in another week, " said Mellicent tragically. "Those awful Savilles! They are all alike--there is something Indianabout them. Indian people have a lot of secrets that we know nothingabout; they use spells, and poisons, and incantations that no Englishperson can understand, and they can charm snakes. I've read about it inbooks. Arthur and Peggy were born in India, and it's my opinion thatthey are bewitched. Perhaps the ayahs did it when they were in theircradles. I don't say it is their own fault, but they are not like otherpeople, and they use their charms on us, as there are no snakes inEngland. Look at Arthur! He was the naughtiest boy--always hurtinghimself, and spilling things, and getting into trouble, and yet everyonein the house bowed down before him, and did what he wanted. --Now mark mywords, Peggy will be the same!"

Mellicent's companions were not in the habit of "marking her words, " buton this occasion they looked thoughtful, for there was no denying thatthey were already more or less under the spell of the remorselessstranger. 

On the afternoon of the fourth day Miss Peggy came down to tea with herpigtail smoother and more glossy than ever, and the light of war shiningin her eyes. She drew her chair to the table, and looked blandly ateach of her companions in turn. 

"I have been thinking, " she said sweetly, and the listeners quaked atthe thought of what was coming. "The thought has been weighing on mymind that we neglect many valuable and precious opportunities. Thishour, which is given to us for our own use, might be turned to profitand advantage, instead of being idly frittered away--

 "`In work, in work, in work alway, Let my young days be spent. '

"It was the estimable Dr Watts, I think, who wrote those immortallines! I think it would be a desirable thing to carry on allconversation at this table in the French language for the future. _Passez-moi le beurre, s'il vous plait_, Mellicent, _ma tres chere. J'aime beaucoup le beurre, quand il est frais. Est-ce que vous aimez lebeurre plus de la_, --I forget at the moment how you translate _jam, ilfait tres beau, ce apres-midi, n'est pas_?"

She was so absolutely, imperturbably grave that no one dared to laugh. Mellicent, who took everything in deadly earnest, summoned up courage togive a mild little squeak of a reply. "_Wee_--_mais hier soir, ilpleut_;" and in the silence that followed Robert was visited with amischievous inspiration. He had had French nursery governesses in hischildhood, and had, moreover, spent two years abroad, so that Frenchcame as naturally to him as his own mother-tongue. The temptation todiscompose Miss Peggy was too strong to be resisted. He raised hisdark, square-chinned face, looked straight into her eyes, and rattledoff a breathless sentence to the effect that there was nothing sonecessary as conversation, if one wished to master a foreign language;that he had talked French in the nursery; and that the same Marie whohad nursed him as a baby was still in his father's service, acting asmaid to his sister. She was getting old now, but was a most faithfulcreature, devoted to the family, though she had never overcome herprejudices against England and English ways. He rattled on until he wasfairly out of breath, and Peggy leant her little chin on her hand, andstared at him with an expression of absorbing attention. Esther feltconvinced that she did not understand a word of what was being said, butthe moment that Robert stopped, she threw back her head, clasped herhands together, and exclaimed--

"_Mais certainement, avec_ pleasure!" with such vivacity and Frenchinessof manner that she was forced into unwilling admiration. 

"Has no one else a remark to make?" continued this terrible girl, collapsing suddenly into English, and looking inquiringly round thetable. "Perhaps there is some other language which you would prefer toFrench. It is all the same to me. We ought to strive to becomeproficient in foreign tongues. At the school where I was at Brightonthere was a little girl in the fourth form who could write, and evenspeak, Greek with admirable fluency. It impressed me very much, for Imyself knew so little of the language. And she was only six--"

"Six!" The boys straightened themselves at that, roused into eagerprotest. "Six years old! And spoke Greek! And wrote Greek!Impossible!"

"I have heard her talking for half an hour at a time. I have known thegirls in the first form ask her to help them with their exercises. Sheknew more than anyone in the school. "

"Then she is a human prodigy. She ought to be exhibited. Six yearsold! Oh, I say--that child ought to turn out something great when shegrows up. What did you say her name was, by the bye?"

Peggy lowered her eyelids, and pursed up her lips. "AndromedaMichaelides, " she said slowly. "She was six last Christmas. Her fatheris Greek Consul in Manchester. "

There was a pause of stunned surprise; and then, suddenly, anextraordinary thing happened. Mariquita bounded from her seat, andbegan flying wildly round and round the table. Her pigtail flew outbehind her; her arms waved like the sails of a windmill, and as sheraced along she seized upon every loose article which she could reach, and tossed it upon the floor. Cushions from chairs and sofa went flyinginto the window; books were knocked off the table with one rapid sweepof the hand; magazines went tossing up in the air, and were kicked aboutlike so many footballs. Round and round she went, faster and faster, while the five beholders gasped and stared, with visions of madhouses, strait-jackets, and padded rooms, rushing through their bewilderedbrains. Her pale cheeks glowed with colour; her eyes shone; she gave awild shriek of laughter, and threw herself, panting, into a chair by thefireside. 

"Three cheers for Mariquita! Ho! ho! he! Didn't I do it well? If youcould have _seen_ your faces!"

"P-P-P-eggy! Do you mean to say you have been pretending all this time?What do you mean? Have you been putting on all those airs and gracesfor a joke?" asked Esther severely; and Peggy gave a feeble splutter oflaughter. 

"W-wanted to see what you were like! Oh, my heart! Ho! ho! ho! wasn'tit lovely? Can't keep it up any longer! Good-bye, Mariquita! I'mPeggy now, my dears. --Give me some more tea!"

CHAPTER FIVE. 

EXPLANATIONS. 

In the explanations that followed, no one showed a livelier interestthan Peggy herself. She was in her element answering the questionswhich were showered upon her, and took an artistic pleasure in thesuccess of her plot. 

"You see, " she explained, "I knew you would all be talking about me, andwondering what I was like, just as I was thinking about you. As I wasArthur's sister, I knew you would be sure to imagine me a mischievoustom-boy, so I came to the conclusion that the best way to shock youwould be to be quite too awfully proper and well-behaved. I neverenjoyed anything so much in my life as that first tea-time, when you alllooked dumb with astonishment. I had made up my mind to go on for aweek, but mother is coming to-morrow, and I couldn't keep it up beforeher, so I was obliged to explode to-night. Besides, I'm really quitefatigued with being good--"

"And are you--are you--really not proper, after all?" gasped Mellicentblankly; whereat Peggy clasped her hands in emphatic protest. 

"Proper! Oh, my dear, I am the most awful person. I am always gettinginto trouble. You know what Arthur was? Well, I tell you truly, he isnothing to me. It's an extraordinary thing. I have excellentintentions, but I seem bound to get into scrapes. There was a teacherat Brighton, Miss Baker, --a dear old thing. I called her `Buns. '--Shevowed and declared that I shortened her life by bringing on palpitationof the heart. I set the dressing-table on fire by spilling matches andcrunching them beneath my heels. It was not a proper dressing-table, you know--just a wooden thing frilled round with muslin. We had twoblazes in the last term. And a dreadful thing occurred! Would youbelieve that I was actually careless enough to sit down on the top ofher best Sunday hat, and squash it as flat as a pancake!"

Despite her protestations of remorse, Peggy's voice had an exultant ringas she detailed the history of her escapades, and Esther shrewdlysuspected that she was by no means so penitent as she declared. She puton her most severe expression, and said sternly--

"You must be dreadfully careless. It is to be hoped you will be morecareful here, for your room is far-away from ours, and you might beburned to death before anyone discovered you. Mother never allowsanyone to read in bed in this house, and she is most particular aboutmatches. You wouldn't like to be burned to a cinder all by yourselfsome fine night, I should say?"

"No, I shouldn't--or on a wet one either. It would be so lonely, " saidPeggy calmly. "No; I am a reformed character about matches. I supporthome industries, and go in for safeties, which `strike only on the box. 'But the boys would rescue me. " She turned with a smile, and beamedupon the three tall lads. "Wouldn't you, boys? If you hear mesquealing any night, don't stop to think. Just catch up your ewers ofwater, and rush to my bedroom. We might get up an amateur fire-brigade, to be in readiness. You three would be the brigade, and I would be thecaptain and train you. It would be capital fun. At any moment I couldgive the signal, and then, whatever you were doing--playing, --working, --eating, --or on cold frosty nights, just when you were going to bed, offyou would have to rush, and get out your fire-buckets. Sometimes youmight have to break the ice, but there's nothing like being prepared. We might have the first rehearsal to-night--"

"It's rather funny to hear you talking of being captain over the boys, because the day we heard that you were coming, they all said that ifthey were to be bothered with a third girl in the house, you would haveto make yourself useful, and that you should be their fag. Max said so, and so did Oswald, and then Robert said they shouldn't have you. He hadlots of little odd things he wanted done, and he could make you veryuseful. He said the other boys shouldn't have you; you were hisproperty. "

"Tut, tut!" said Peggy pleasantly. She looked at the three scowling, embarrassed faces, and the mocking light danced back into her eyes. "Sothey were all anxious to have me, were they? How nice! I'm gratifiedto hear it. Is there any little thing I can do for your honourable selfnow, Mr Darcy, before I dress for dinner?"

Robert looked across the room at Mellicent with an expression which madethat young person tremble in her shoes. 

"All right, young lady, I'll remember you!" he said quietly. "I'vewarned you before about repeating conversations. Now you'll see whathappens. I'll cure you of that little habit, my dear, as sure as myname is Robert Darcy--"

"The Honourable Robert Darcy!" murmured a silvery voice from the otherside of the fireplace. Robert turned his head sharply, but Peggy wasgazing into the coals with an air of lamb-like innocence, and hesubsided into himself with a grunt of displeasure. 

The next day Mrs Saville came to lunch, and spent the afternoon at thevicarage. As Maxwell had said, she was a beautiful woman; tall, fair, and elegant, and looking a very fashionable lady when contrasted withMrs Asplin in her well-worn serge, but her face was sad and anxious inexpression. Esther noticed that her eyes filled with tears more thanonce as she looked round the table at the husband and wife and the threetall, well-grown children; and when the two ladies were alone in thedrawing-room she broke into helpless sobbings. 

"Oh, how happy you are! How I envy you! Husband, children, --all besideyou. Oh, never, never let one of your girls marry a man who livesabroad. My heart is torn in two; I have no rest. I am always longingfor the one who is not there. I must go back, --the major needs me; butmy Peggy, --my own little girl! It is like death to leave her behind!"

Mrs Asplin put her arms round the tall figure, and rocked her gently toand fro. 

"I know! I know!" she said brokenly. "I _ache_ for you, dear; but Iunderstand! I have parted with a child of my own--not for a few years, but for ever, till we meet again in God's heaven. I'll help you everyway I can. I'll watch her night and day; I'll coddle her when she'sill; I'll try to make her a good woman. I'll _love_ her, dear, and sheshall be my own special charge. I'll be a second mother to her. "

"You dear, good woman! God bless your kind heart!" said Mrs Savillebrokenly. "I can't help breaking down, but indeed I have much to bethankful for. I can't tell you what a relief it is to feel that she isin this house. The principals of that school at Brighton were all thatis good and excellent, but they did not understand my Peggy. " The tearswere still in her eyes, but she broke into a flickering smile at thelast word. "My children have such spirits! I am afraid they really dogive more trouble than other boys and girls, but they are not reallynaughty. They are truthful and generous, and wonderfully warm-hearted. I never needed to punish Peg when she was a little girl; it was enoughto show that she had grieved me. She never did the same thing againafter that; but--oh, dear me!--the ingenuity of that child in findingfresh fields for mischief! Dear Mrs Asplin, I am afraid she will tryyour patience. You must be sure to keep a list of all the breakages andaccidents, and charge them to our account. Peggy is an expensive littleperson. You know what Arthur was. "

"Bless him--yes! I had hardly a tumbler left in the house, " said MrsAsplin, with gusto. "But I don't grieve myself about a few breakages. I have had too much to do with schoolboys for that!--And now give me allthe directions you can about this precious little maid, while we havethe room to ourselves. "

For the next hour there the two ladies sat in conclave about MissPeggy's mental, moral, and physical welfare. Mrs Asplin had a book inher hand, in which from time to time she jotted down notes of a curiousand inconsequent character. "Pay attention to private reading. Gas-fire in her bedroom for chilly weather. See dentist in Christmasholidays. Query: gold plate over eye-tooth? Boots to order, Beavan andCompany, Oxford Street. Cod-liver oil in winter. Careless aboutchanging shoes. Damp brings on throat. Aconite and belladonna. " Soon, and so on. There seemed no end to the warnings and instructions ofthis anxious mother; but when all was settled as far as possible, theladies adjourned into the schoolroom to join the young people at theirtea, so that Mrs Saville might be able to picture her daughter'ssurroundings when separated from her by those weary thousands of miles. 

"What a bright, cheery room!" she said smilingly, as she took her seatat the table, and her eyes wandered round as if striving to print thescene in her memory. How many times, as she lay panting beneath theswing of the punkah, she would recall that cool English room, with itsvista of garden through the windows, the long table in the centre, thelittle figure with the pale face and plaited hair, seated midway betweenthe top and bottom! Oh! the moments of longing--of wild, unbearablelonging--when she would feel that she must break loose from herprison-house and fly away, --that not the length of the earth itselfcould keep her back, that she would be willing to give up life itselfjust to hold Peggy in her arms for five minutes, to kiss the sweet lips, to meet the glance of the loving eyes--

But this would never do! Had she not vowed to be cheerful? The youngfolks were looking at her with troubled glances. She roused herself, and said briskly--

"I see you make this a playroom as well as a study. Somebody has beenwood-carving over there, and you have one of those dwarfbilliard-tables. I want to give a present to this room--something thatwill be a pleasure and occupation to you all; but I can't make up mymind what would be best. Can you give me a few suggestions? Is thereanything that you need, or that you have fancied you might like?"

"It's very kind of you, " said Esther warmly; and echoes of "Very kind!"came from every side of the table, while boys and girls stared at eachother in puzzled consideration. Maxwell longed to suggest a joiner'sbench, but refrained out of consideration for the girls' feelings. Mellicent's eager face, however, was too eloquent to escape attention, and Mrs Saville smiled at her in an encouraging manner. 

"Well, dear, what is it? Don't be afraid. I mean something really niceand handsome; not just a little thing. Tell me what you thought?"

"A--a new violin!" cried Mellicent eagerly. "Mine is so old andsqueaky, and my teacher said I needed a new one badly. A new violinwould be nicest of all. "

Mrs Saville looked round the table, caught an expressive grimace goingthe round of three boyish faces, and raised her eyebrows inquiringly. 

"Yes? Whatever you like best, of course. It is all the same to me. But would the violin be a pleasure to all? What about the boys?"

"They would hear me play! The pieces would sound nicer. They wouldlike to hear them. "

"Ahem!" coughed Maxwell loudly; and at that there was a universal shriekof merriment. Peggy's clear "Ho! ho!" rang out above the rest, and hermother looked at her with sparkling eyes. Yes, yes, yes; the child washappy! She had settled down already into the cheery, wholesome life ofthe vicarage, and was in her element among these merry boys and girls!She hugged the thought to her heart, finding in it her truest comfort. The laughter lasted several minutes, and broke out intermittently fromtime to time as that eloquent cough recurred to memory, but after all itwas Mellicent who was the one to give the best suggestion. 

"Well then, a--a what-do-you-call-it!" she cried. "A thing-um-me-bob!One of those three-legged things for taking photographs! The boys lookso silly sometimes, rolling about together in the garden, and we haveoften and often said, `Don't you wish we could take their photographs?They _would_ look such frights!' We could have ever so much fun with awhat-do-you-call-it?"

"Ah, that's something like!" "Good business. " "Oh, wouldn't it besweet!" came the quick exclamations; and Mrs Saville looked mostpleased and excited of all. 

"A camera!" she cried. "What a charming idea! Then you would be ableto take photographs of Peggy and the whole household, and send them outfor me to see. How delightful! That is a happy thought, Mellicent. Iam so grateful to you for thinking of it, dear. I'll buy a really goodlarge one, and all the necessary materials, and send them down at once. Do any of you know how to set to work?"

"I do, Mrs Saville, " Oswald said. "I had a small camera of my own, butit got smashed some years ago. I can show them how to begin, and wewill take lots of photographs of Peggy for you, in groups and byherself. They mayn't be very good at first, but you will be interestedto see her in different positions. We will take her walking, andbicycling, and sitting in the garden, and every way we can think of--"

"And whenever she has a new dress or hat, so that you may know what theyare like, " added Mellicent anxiously. "Are her hats going to be thesame as ours, or is she to choose them for herself?"

"She may choose them for herself, subject, of course, to your mother'srefraining influence. If she were to develop a fondness for scarletfeathers, for instance, I think Mrs Asplin should interfere; but Peggyhas good taste. I don't think she will go far wrong, " said the girl'smother, looking at her fondly; and the little white face quivered beforeit broke into its sunny, answering smile. 

Three times that evening, after Mrs Saville had left, did hercompanions surprise the glitter of tears in Peggy's eyes; but there wasa dignified reserve about her manner which forbade outspoken sympathy. Even when she was discovered to be quietly crying behind her book, whenMaxwell flipped it mischievously out of her hands, --even then did Peggypreserve her wonderful self-possession. The tears were trickling downher cheeks, and her poor little nose was red and swollen, but she lookedup at Maxwell without a quiver, and it was he who stood gaping beforeher, aghast and miserable. 

"Oh, I say! I'm fearfully sorry!"

"So am I, " said Peggy severely. "It was rude, and not at all funny. And it injures the book. I have always been taught to reverence books, and treat them as dear and valued companions. Pick it up, please. Thank you. Don't do it again. " She hitched herself round in her chair, and settled down once more to her reading, while Maxwell slunk back tohis seat. When Peggy was offended she invariably fell back uponMariquita's grandiose manner, and the sting of her sharp little tongueleft her victims dumb and smarting. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

A NEW FRIENDSHIP. 

A week after this, Mrs Saville came to pay her farewell visit beforesailing for India. Mother and daughter went out for a walk in themorning, and retired to the drawing-room together for the afternoon. There was much that they wanted to say to each other, yet for the mostpart they were silent, Peggy sitting with her head on her mother'sshoulder, and Mrs Saville's arms clasped tightly round her. Every nowand then she stroked the smooth brown head, and sometimes Peggy raisedher lips and kissed the cheek which leant against her own, but thesentences came at long intervals. 

"If I were ill, mother--a long illness--would you come?"

"On wings, darling! As fast as boat and train could bring me. "

"And if you were ill?"

"I should send for you, if it were within the bounds of possibility--Ipromise that! You must write often, Peggy--long, long letters. Tell meall you do, and feel, and think. You will be almost a woman when wemeet again. Don't grow up a stranger to me, darling. "

"Every week, mother! I'll write something each day, and then it will belike a diary. I'll tell you every bit of my life... "

"Be a good girl, Peggy. Do all you can for Mrs Asplin, who is so kindto you. She will give you what money you need, and if at any time youshould want more than your ordinary allowance, for presents or anyspecial purpose, just tell her about it, and she will understand. Youcan have anything in reason; I want you to be happy. Don't fret, dearie. I shall be with father, and the time will pass. In three yearsI shall be back again, and then, Peg, then, how happy we shall be! Onlythree years. "

Peggy shivered, and was silent. Three years seem an endless space whenone is young. She shut her eyes, and pondered drearily upon all thatwould happen before the time of separation was passed. She would beseventeen, nearly eighteen--a young lady who wore dresses down at herankles, and did up her hair. This was the last time, the very, verylast time when she would be a child in her mother's arms. The newrelationship might be nearer, sweeter, but it could never be the same, and the very sound of the words "the last time" sends a pang to theheart. 

Half an hour later the carriage drove up to the door. Mr and MrsAsplin came into the room to say a few words of farewell, and then leftPeggy to see her mother off. There were no words spoken on the way, andso quietly did they move that Robert had no suspicion that anyone wasnear, as he took off his shoes in the cloak-room opening off the hall. He tossed his cap on to a nail, picked up his book, and was just aboutto sally forth, when the sound of a woman's voice sent a chill throughhis veins. The tone of the voice was low, almost a whisper, yet he hadnever in his life heard anything so thrilling as its intense andyearning tenderness. "Oh, my Peggy!" it said. "My little Peggy!" Andthen, as in reply, came a low moaning sound, a feeble bleat like that ofa little lamb torn from its mother's side. Robert charged back into thecloak-room, and kicked savagely at the boots and shoes which werescattered about the floor, his lips pressed together, and his browsmeeting in a straight black line across his forehead. Another minute, and the carriage rolled away. He peeped out of the door in time to seea little figure fly out into the rain, and walking slowly towards theschoolroom came face to face with Mrs Asplin. 

"Gone?" she inquired sadly. "Well, I'm thankful it is over. Poorlittle dear, where is she? Flown up to her room, I suppose. We'llleave her alone until tea-time. It will be the truest kindness. "

"Yes, " said Robert vaguely. He was afraid that the good lady would notbe so willing to leave Peggy undisturbed if she knew her realwhereabouts, and was determined to say nothing to undeceive her. Hefelt sure that the girl had hidden herself in the summer-house at thebottom of the garden, and a nice, damp, mouldy retreat it would be thisafternoon, with the rain driving in through the open window, and thecreepers dripping on the walls. Just the place in which to sit andbreak your heart, and catch rheumatic fever with the greatest possibleease. And yet Robert said no word of warning to Mrs Asplin. He had aninward conviction that if anyone were to go to the rescue, that personshould be himself, and that he, more than anyone else, would be able tocomfort Peggy in her affliction. He sauntered up and down the halluntil the coast was clear, then dashed once more into the cloak-room, took an Inverness coat from a nail, a pair of goloshes from the floor, and sped rapidly down the garden-path. In less than two minutes he hadreached the summer-house, and was peeping cautiously in at the door. Yes; he was right. There sat Peggy, with her arms stretched out beforeher on the rickety table, her shoulders heaving with long, gasping sobs. Her fingers clenched and unclenched themselves spasmodically, and thesmooth little head rolled to and fro in an abandonment of grief. Robertstood looking on in silent misery. He had a boy's natural hatred oftears, and his first impulse was to turn tail, go back to the house, andsend someone to take his place; but even as he hesitated he shivered inthe chilly damp, and remembered the principal reason of his coming. Hestepped forward and dropped the cloak over the bent shoulders, whereuponPeggy started up and turned a scared white face upon him. 

"Who, who--Oh! it is you! What do you want?"

"Nothing. I saw you come out, and thought you would be cold. I broughtyou out my coat. "

"I don't want it; I am quite warm. I came here to be alone. "

"I know; I'm not going to bother. Mrs Asplin thinks you are in yourroom, and I didn't tell her that I'd seen you go out. But it's damp. If you catch cold, your mother will be sorry. "

Peggy looked at him thoughtfully, and there was a glimmer of gratitudein her poor tear-stained eyes. 

"Yes; I p-p-romised to be careful. You are very kind, but I can't thinkof anything to-night. I am too miserably wretched. "

"I know; I've been through it. I was sent away to a boarding-schoolwhen I was a little kid of eight, and I howled myself to sleep everynight for weeks. It is worse for you, because you are older, but youwill be happy enough in this place when you get settled. Mrs Asplin isa brick, and we have no end of fun. It is ever so much better thanbeing at school; and, I say, you mustn't mind what Mellicent said theother night. She's a little muff, always saying the wrong thing. Wewere only chaffing when we said you were to be our fag. We never reallymeant to bully you. "

"You c-couldn't if you t-tried, " stammered Peggy brokenly, but with aflash of her old spirit which delighted her hearer. 

"No; of course not. You can stand up for yourself; I know that verywell. But look here: I'll make a compact, if you will. Let us befriends. I'll stick to you and help you when you need it, and you stickto me. The other girls have their brother to look after them, but ifyou want anything done, if anyone is cheeky to you, and you want himkicked, for instance, just come to me, and I'll do it for you. It's allnonsense about being a fag, but there are lots of things you could dofor me if you would, and I'd be awfully grateful. We might be partners, and help one another--"

Robert stopped in some embarrassment, and Peggy stared fixedly at him, her pale face peeping out from the folds of the Inverness coat. She hadstopped crying, though the tears still trembled on her eyelashes, andher chin quivered in uncertain fashion. Her eyes dwelt on the broadforehead, the overhanging brows, the square, massive chin, andbrightened with a flash of approval. 

"You are a nice boy, " she said slowly. "I like you! You don't reallyneed my help, but you thought it would cheer me to feel that I waswanted. Yes; I'll be your partner, and I'll be of real use to you yet. You'll find that out, Robert Darcy, before you have done with me. "

"All right, so much the better. I hope you will; but you know you can'texpect to have your own way all the time. I'm the senior partner, andyou will have to do what I tell you. Now I say it's damp in this hole, and you ought to come back to the house at once. It's enough to killyou to sit in this draught. "

"I'd rather like to be killed. I'm tired of life. I shouldn't minddying a bit. "

"Humph!" said Robert shortly. "Jolly cheerful news that would be foryour poor mother when she arrived at the end of her journey! Don't beso selfish. Now then, up you get! Come along to the house. "

"I wo--" Peggy began, then suddenly softened, and glanced apologeticallyinto his face. "Yes, I will, because you ask me. Smuggle me up to myroom, Robert, and don't, don't, if you love me, let Mellicent come nearme! I couldn't stand her chatter to-night!"

"She will have to fight her way over my dead body, " said Robert firmly;and Peggy's sweet little laugh quavered out on the air. 

"Nice boy!" she repeated heartily. "Nice boy; I do like you!"

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHERS. 

Peggy looked very sad and wan after her mother's departure, but hercompanions soon discovered that anything like outspoken sympathy wasunwelcome. The redder her eyes, the more erect and dignified was herdemeanour; if her lips trembled when she spoke, the more grandiose andformidable became her conversation, for Peggy's love of long words andhigh-sounding expressions was fully recognised by this time, and causedmuch amusement in the family. 

A few days after Mrs Saville sailed, a welcome diversion arrived in theshape of the promised camera. The Parcels Delivery van drove up to thedoor, and two large cases were delivered, one of which was found tocontain the camera itself, the tripod and a portable dark room, whilethe other held such a collection of plates, printing-frames, andchemicals as delighted the eyes of the beholders. It was the gift ofone who possessed not only a deep purse, but a most true and thoughtfulkindness, for, when young people are concerned, two-thirds of theenjoyment of any present is derived from the possibility of being ableto put it to immediate use. As it was a holiday afternoon, it wasunanimously agreed to take two groups and develop them straightway. 

"Professional photographers are so dilatory, " said Peggy severely; "andindeed I have noticed that amateurs are even worse. I have twice beenphotographed by friends, and they have solemnly promised to send me acopy within a few days. I have waited, consumed by curiosity, and, mydears, it has been months before it has arrived! Now we will make arule to finish off our groups at once, and not keep people waiting untilall the interest has died away. There's no excuse for such dilatorybehaviour!"

"There is some work to do, remember, Peggy. You can't get a photographby simply taking off and putting on the cap; you must have a certainamount of time and fine weather. I haven't had much experience, but Iremember thinking that photographs were jolly cheap, considering all thetrouble they cost, and wondering how the fellows could do them at theprice. There's the developing, and washing, and printing, and toning, --half a dozen processes before you are finished. "

Peggy smiled in a patient, forbearing manner. 

"They don't get any less, do they, by putting them off? Procrastinationwill never lighten labour. Come, put the camera up for us, like a goodboy, and we'll show you how to do it. " She waved her hand towards thebrown canvas bag, and the six young people immediately seized differentportions of the tripod and camera, and set to work to put them together. The girls tugged and pulled at the sliding legs, which were too new andstiff to work with ease; Maxwell turned the screws which moved thebellows, and tried in vain to understand their working; Robert peeredthrough the lenses, and Oswald alternately raved, chided, and jeered attheir efforts. With so many cooks at work, it took an unconscionabletime to get ready, and even when the camera was perched securely on itsspidery legs, it still remained to choose the site of the picture, andto pose the victims. After much wandering about the garden, it wasfinally decided that the schoolroom window would be an appropriatebackground for a first effort; but a heated argument followed before thesecond question could be decided. 

"I vote that we stand in couples, arm-on-arm, --like this!" saidMellicent, sidling up to her beloved brother, and gazing into his facein a sentimental manner, which had the effect of making him stride awayas fast as he could walk, muttering indignant protests beneath hisbreath. 

Then Esther came forward with her suggestion. 

"I'll hold a book as if I were reading aloud, and you can all sit roundin easy, natural positions, and look as if you were listening. I thinkthat would make a charming picture. "

"Idiotic, I call it! `Scene from the Goodchild family; mamma readingaloud to the little ones. ' Couldn't possibly look easy and naturalunder the circumstances; should feel too miserable. Try again, my dear. You must think of something better than that. "

It was impossible to please those three fastidious boys. One suggestionafter another was made, only to be waved aside with lordly contempt, until at last the girls gave up any say in the matter, and left Oswaldto arrange the group in a manner highly satisfactory to himself and histwo friends, however displeasing to the more artistic members of theparty. Three girls in front, two boys behind, all standing stiff aspokers; with solemn faces, and hair ruffled by constant peepings beneaththe black cloth. Peggy in the middle, with her eyebrows more peakedthan ever, and an expression of resigned martyrdom on her small, paleface; Mellicent, large and placid, on the left; Esther on the right, scowling at nothing, and, over their shoulders, the two boys' heads, handsome Max and frowning Robert. 

"There, " cried Oswald, "that's what I call a sensible arrangement! Ifyou take a photograph, _take_ a photograph, and don't try to do apastoral play at the same time. Keep still a moment, and I will see ifit is focused all right. I can see you pulling faces, Peggy! It's notat all becoming. Now then, I'll put in the plate--that's the way!--one--two--three--and I shall take you. Stea-dy?"

Instantly Mellicent burst into giggles of laughter, and threw up herhands to her face, to be roughly seized from behind and shaken intoorder. 

"Be quiet, you silly thing! Didn't you hear him say steady? What areyou trying to do?"

"She has spoiled this plate, anyhow, " said Oswald icily. "I'll try theother, and if she can't keep still this time she had better run away andlaugh by herself at the other end of the garden. Baby!"

"Not a ba--" began Mellicent indignantly; but she was immediatelypunched into order, and stood with her mouth wide open, waiting tofinish her protest so soon as the ordeal was over. 

Peggy forestalled her, however, with an eager plea to be allowed to takethe third picture herself. 

"I want to have one of Oswald to send to mother, for we are not completewithout him, and I know it would please her to think I had taken itmyself, " she urged; and permission was readily granted, as everyone feltthat she had a special claim in the matter. Oswald therefore put in newplates, gave instructions as to how the shutters were to be worked, andretired to take up an elegant position in the centre of the group. 

"Are you read-ee?" cried Peggy, in professional sing-song; then she puther head on one side and stared at the group with twinkling eyes. "Hee, hee! How silly you look! Everyone has a new expression for theoccasion! Your own mothers would not recognise you! That's better. Keep that smile going for another moment, and--how long must I keep offthe cap, did you say?"

Oswald hesitated. 

"Well, it varies. You have to use your own judgment. It depends upon--lots of things! You might try one second for the first, and two for thenext, then one of them is bound to be right. "

"And one a failure! If I were going to depend on my judgment, I'd havea better one than that!" cried Peggy scornfully. "Ready! A little morecheerful, if you please--Christmas is coming! That's _one_. Be so goodas to remain in your positions, ladies and gentlemen, and I'll tryanother. " The second shutter was pulled out, the cap removed, and thegroup broke up with sighs of relief, exhausted with the strain ofcultivating company smiles for a whole two minutes on end. Max stayedto help the girls to fold up the camera, while Oswald darted into thehouse to prepare the dark room for the development of the plates. 

When he came out, ten minutes later on, it was a pleasant surprise todiscover Miss Mellicent holding a plate in her hand and taking sly peepsinside the shutter, just "to see how it looked. " He stormed and raved, while Mellicent looked like a martyr, wished to know how a teeny littlelight like that could possibly hurt anything, and seemed incapable ofunderstanding that if one flash of sunlight could make a picture, itcould also destroy it with equal swiftness. Oswald was forced tocomfort himself with the reflection that there were still three platesuninjured; and, when all was ready, the six operators squeezedthemselves in the dark room, to watch the process of development, indulging the while in the most flowery expectations. 

"If it is very good, let me send it to an illustrated paper. Oh, do!"said Mellicent, with a gush. "I have often seen groups of people inthem. `The thing-a-me-bob touring company, ' and stupid old cricketers, and things like that. We should be far more interesting. "

"It will make a nice present for mother, enlarged and mounted, " saidPeggy thoughtfully. "I shall keep an album of my own, and mount everysingle picture we take. If there are any failures, I shall put them intoo, for they will make it all the more amusing. Photograph albums arehorribly uninteresting as a rule, but mine shall be quite different. There shall be nothing stiff and prim about it; the photographs shall bedotted about in all sorts of positions, and underneath each I shall putin--ah--conversational annotations. " Her tongue lingered over the wordswith triumphant enjoyment. "Conversational annotations, describing thecircumstances under which it was taken, and anything about it which isworth remembering... What are you going to do with those bottles?"

Oswald ruffled his hair in embarrassment. To pose as an instructor inan art, when one is in doubt about its very rudiments, is a positionwhich has its drawbacks. 

"I don't--quite--know. The stupid fellow has written instructions onall the other labels, and none on these except simply `Developer Number1' and `Developer Number 2'; I think the only difference is that one israther stronger than the other. I'll put some of the Number 2 in adish, and see what happens; I believe that's the right way--in fact, I'msure it is. You pour it over the plate and jog it about, and in two orthree minutes the picture ought to begin to appear. Like this!"

Five eager faces peered over his shoulders, rosy red in the light of thelamp; five pairs of lips uttered a simultaneous "Oh!" of surprise; fivecries of dismay followed in instant echo. It was the tragedy of asecond. Even as Oswald poured the fluid over the plate, a pictureflashed before their eyes, each one saw and recognised some fleetingfeature; and, in the very moment of triumph, lo, darkness, as of night, a sheet of useless, blackened glass!

"What about the conversational annotations?" asked Robert slily; but hewas interrupted by a storm of indignant queries, levied at the head ofthe poor operator, who tried in vain to carry off his mistake with ajaunty air. Now that he came to think of it, he believed you _did_ mixthe two developers together! Just at the moment he had forgotten theproportions, but he would go outside and look it up in the book; and hebeat a hasty retreat, glad to escape from the scene of his failure. Itwas rather a disconcerting beginning; but hope revived once more whenOswald returned, primed with information from the _Photographic Manual_, and Peggy's plates were taken from their case and put into the bath. This time the result was slow in coming. Five minutes went by, and nosigns of a picture--ten minutes, a quarter of an hour. 

"It's a good thing to develop slowly; you get the details better, " saidOswald, in so professional a manner that he was instantly reinstated inpublic confidence; but when twenty minutes had passed, he lookedperturbed, and thought he would use a little more of the hastener. Thebath was strengthened and strengthened, but still no signs of a picture. The plate was put away in disgust, and the second one tried with a likeresult. So far as it was possible to judge, there was nothing to bedeveloped on the plate. 

"A nice photographer you are, I must say! What are you playing at now?"asked Max, in scornful impatience; and Oswald turned severely to Peggy--

"Which shutter did you draw out? The one nearest to yourself?"

"Yes, I did--of course I did!"

"You drew out the nearest to you, and the farthest away from the lens?"

"Precisely--I told you so!" and Peggy bridled with an air of virtue. 

"Then no wonder nothing has come out! You have drawn out the wrongshutter each time, and the plates have never been exposed. They arewasted! That's fivepence simply _thrown_ away, to say nothing of thechemicals!"

His air of aggrieved virtue; Peggy's little face staring at him, aghastwith horror; the thought of four plates being used and leaving not avestige of a result, were all too funny to be resisted. Mellicent wentoff into irrepressible giggles; Max gave a loud "Ha, ha!" and once againa mischievous whisper sounded in Peggy's ear--

"Good for you, Mariquita! What about the `conversational annotations'?"

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

PEGGY SHOWS HERSELF IN HER TRUE COLOURS. 

The photographic fever burnt fiercely for the next few weeks. Everyspare hour was devoted to the camera, and there was not a person in thehouse, from the vicar himself to the boy who came in to clean boots andknives, who had not been pressed to repeated sittings. There were nomore blank plates, but there were some double ones which had been twiceexposed, and showed such a kaleidoscopic jumble of heads and legs as wasas good as any professional puzzle; but, besides these, there were anumber of groups where the likenesses were quite recognisable, thoughscarcely flattering enough to be pleasant to the originals. There wasquite a scene in the dining-room on the evening when Oswald came down intriumph and handed round the proofs of the first presentable group, overwhich he had been busy all the afternoon. 

"Oh, oh, oh! I'm an old woman, and I never knew it!" cried Mrs Asplin, staring in dismay at the haggard-looking female who sat in the middle ofthe group, with heavy, black shadows on cheeks and temple. The vicarcast a surreptitious glance in the glass above the sideboard, and triedto straighten his bent shoulders, while Mellicent's cheeks grew scarletwith agitation, and the tears were in her voice, as she cried--

"I look like a p-p-pig! It's not a bit like! A nasty, horrid, fat, puffy pig!"

"I don't care about appearances; but mine is not in the least like, "Esther said severely. "I am sure no one could recognise it; I lookseventy-eight at the very least. "

Robert flicked the paper across the table with a contemptuous "Bah!" andMax laughed in his easy, jolly manner, and said--

"Now I know how I shall look when my brain softens! I'm glad I've seenit; it will be a lesson to me to take things easily, and notover-study. "

"But look at the leaves of the ivy, " protested Oswald, in aggrievedself-vindication, "each one quite clear and distinct from the others;it's really an uncommonly good plate. The detail is perfect. Look atthat little bunch of flowers at the corner of the bed!" All in vain, however, did he point out the excellences of his work. The victimsrefused to look at the little bunch of flowers. Each one was occupiedwith staring at his own portrait; the Asplin family sighing andprotesting, and Peggy placidly poking a pin through the eyes of thevarious sitters, and holding the paper to the light to view the effect. It was a little trying to the feelings of one who had taken immensepains over his work, and had given up a bicycle ride to sit for a wholeafternoon in a chilly pantry, dabbling in cold water, and watching overthe various processes. Oswald was ruffled, and showed it more plainlythan was altogether courteous. 

"I'm sorry you're not pleased, " he said coldly. "I aim at truthfulness, you see, and that is what you don't get from a professional photograph. It's no good wasting time, simply to get oneself disliked. I'll go infor Nature, and leave the portrait business to somebody else. The girlscan try! They think they can do everything!"

Peggy looked at Esther, and Esther looked at Peggy. They did not say aword, but a flash of understanding passed from the brown eyes to thegrey, which meant that they were on their mettle. They were not goingto defend themselves, but henceforth it was a case of die or produce agood photograph, and so oblige Oswald to alter his tone of scornfulincredulity. 

For the next week the camera was the one engrossing thought. Everyminute that could be spared was devoted to experiments, so that Frauleincomplained that lessons were suffering in consequence. The hearts ofher pupils were not in their work, she declared; it would be a goodthing if a rule could be made that no more photographs were to be takenuntil the Christmas holidays. She looked very fierce and formidable asshe spoke, but soft-hearted Mrs Asplin put in a plea for forgiveness. 

"Ah, well, then, have patience for a few days longer, " she begged. "They are just children with a new toy; let them have as much of it asthey will at first, and they will tire of their own accord, and settledown to work as well as ever. We can control their actions, but nottheir thoughts; and I'm afraid if I forbade photography at present, youwould find them no more interested in lessons. I fancy there issomething especially engrossing on hand this week, and we might as welllet them have it out. "

Even Mrs Asplin, however, hardly realised the thoroughness with whichthe girls were setting to work to achieve their end. They held acommittee meeting on Esther's bed, sitting perched together in attitudesof inelegant comfort, with arms encircling their knees, and chinsresting on the clasped hands, wherein it was proposed and seconded thatPeggy, the artistic, should pose and take the sitters, while Esther, theaccurate, should undertake the after-processes. 

"And what am I to do?" cried Mellicent plaintively; and her elderssmiled upon her with patronising encouragement. 

"You shall wash up all the trays and glasses, and put them neatly away. "

"You shall carry the heavy things, dear, and stand to me for your backhair. I think I could make a really good effect with your back hair. "Peggy put her head on one side and stared at the flaxen mane inspeculative fashion. "A long muslin gown--a wreath of flowers--a bunchof lilies in your hands! If you weren't so fat, you would dosplendiforously for Ophelia. I might manage it, perhaps, if I took youfrom the back, with your head turned over your shoulder, so as to showonly the profile. Like that! Don't move now, but let me see how youlook. " She took Mellicent's head between her hands as she spoke, waggedit to and fro, as if it belonged to a marionette, and then gave afrog-like leap to a farther corner of the bed to study the effect. "Alittle more to the right. Chin higher! Look at the ceiling. Yes-es--Ican do it. I see how it can be done. "

It turned out, indeed, that Peggy had a genius for designing and posingpretty, graceful pictures. With a few yards of muslin and a basket, orsuch odds and ends of rubbish as horrified Esther's tidy soul to behold, she achieved marvels in the way of fancy costumes, and transformed theplacid Mellicent into a dozen different characters: Ophelia, crownedwith flowers; Marguerite, pulling the petals of a daisy; Hebe, bearing abasket of fruit on her head, and many other fanciful impersonations, were improvised and taken before the week was over. She went about thework in her usual eager, engrossed, happy-go-lucky fashion, stickingpins by the dozen into Mellicent's flesh in the ardour of arrangement, and often making a really charming picture, only to spoil it at the lastmoment by a careless movement, which altered the position of the camera, and so omitted such important details as the head of the sitter, or lefther squeezed into one corner of the picture, like a sparrow on thehouse-top. 

Out of a dozen photographs, three, however, were really remarkablesuccesses; as pretty pictures as one could wish to see, and, moreover, exceedingly good likenesses of the bonnie little subject. Esther's partof the work was performed with her usual conscientious care; and whenthe last prints were mounted, the partners gazed at them with raptureand pride. They were exhibited at the dinner-table the same eveningamid a scene of riotous excitement. The vicar glowed with pleasure;Mrs Asplin called out, "Oh, my baby! Bless her heart!" and whiskedaway two tears of motherly pride. Oswald was silent and subdued; andeven Robert said, "Humph--it's not so bad, " a concession which turnedthe girls' heads by its wonderful magnanimity. 

Their triumph was almost sweeter than they had expected; but, truth totell, they had had too much of photography during the last week, andMrs Asplin's prophecy came true, inasmuch as it now ceased to become anoccupation of absorbing interest, and assumed its rightful place as anamusement to be enjoyed now and then, as opportunity afforded. 

CHAPTER NINE. 

THE HONOURABLE ROSALIND. 

By the beginning of October Peggy had quite settled down in her newhome, and had established her right to be Arthur Saville's sister byconvulsing the quiet household with her tricks and capers. She wasaffectionate, obedient, and strictly truthful; her prim little face, grandiose expressions, and merry ways, made her a favourite witheveryone in the house, from the vicar, who loved to converse with her inlanguage even more high-flown than her own, to the old North-countrycook, who confided in the housemaid that she "fair-ly did love thatlittle thing, " and manoeuvred to have apple charlotte for dinner asoften as possible, because the "little thing" had praised her prowess inthat direction, and commended the charlotte as a "delicious confection. "Mrs Asplin was specially tender over the girl who had been left in hercharge, and, in return, Peggy was all that was sweet and affectionate, vowed that she could never do enough to repay such kindness, andimmediately fell into a fresh pickle, and half frightened the life outof her companions by her hairbreadth escapes. Her careless, happy-go-lucky ways seemed all the more curious because of the almostQuaker-like neatness of her appearance. Mellicent was often untidy, andeven Esther had moments of dishevelment, but Peggy was a dainty littleperson, whose hair was always smooth, whose dress well brushed andnatty. Her artistic sense was too keen to allow of any shortcoming inthis respect; but she seemed blessed with a capacity of acting beforeshe thought, which had many disastrous consequences. She was by nomeans a robust girl, and Mrs Asplin fussed over her little ailmentslike an old mother-hen with a delicate nursling. One prescription afteranother was unearthed for her benefit, until the washstand in her roomlooked like a small chemist's shop. An array of doctor's tinctures, gargles, and tonics, stood on one side, while on the other were a numberof home-made concoctions in disused wine-bottles, such as a paregoriccough-mixture, and a cooling draught to be taken the first thing in themorning, which last pretended to be lemonade, but in reality contained anumber of medicinal powders. "Take it up tenderly, treat it with care!"was Peggy's motto with respect to this last-named medicine, for she haddiscovered that by judicious handling it was possible to enjoy a reallytasty beverage, and to leave the sediment untouched at the bottom of thebottle!

Esther and Mellicent were almost equally well supplied by their anxiousmother, but their bottles behaved in a well-regulated fashion, and nevertook upon themselves to play tricks, while those in Peggy's room seemedinfected by the spirit of the owner, and amused themselves with seeinghow much mischief they could accomplish. A bottle of ammonia had beenprovided as a cure for bites of gnats and flies; Peggy flicked a towelmore hastily than usual, and down it fell, the contents streaming overthe wood, and splashing on to the wardrobe near at hand, with theconsequence that every sign of polish was removed, and replaced by whiteunsightly stains. The glass stopper of a smelling-salts bottle becamefixed in its socket, and, being anointed with oil and placed before thefire to melt, popped out suddenly with a noise as of a cannon shot, aimed accurately for the centre of the mirror, and smashed it into adozen pieces. The "safety ink-pot, " out of which she indited herletters to her mother, came unfastened of its own accord and rolled upand down the clean white toilet cover. This, at least, was theimpression left by Peggy's innocent protestations, while the gas andsoap seemed equally obstinate--the one refusing to be lowered when sheleft the room, and the other insisting upon melting itself to pieces inher morning bath!

"Mrs Saville was right--Peggy is a most expensive person!" cried MrsAsplin in dismay, when the bills for repairs came in; but when the vicarsuggested the advisability of a reproof, she said, "Oh, poor child; sheis so lonely--I haven't the heart to scold her;" and Peggy continued todetail accounts of her latest misfortune with an air of exaggeratedmelancholy, which barely concealed the underlying satisfaction. Itrequired a philosophic mind to be able to take damages to personalproperty in so amiable a fashion; but occasionally Peggy's pickles tookan irresistibly comical character. The story was preserved in thearchives of the family of one evening when the three girls had been sentupstairs to wash their abundant locks and dry them thoroughly beforeretiring to bed. A fire was kindled in the old nursery, which was nowused as a sewing-room, and Mrs Asplin, who understood nothing if it wasnot the art of making young folks happy, had promised a supper of roastapples and cream when the drying process was finished. 

Esther and Mellicent were squatted on the hearth, in their bluedressing-gowns, when in tripped Peggy, fresh as a rose, in a long robeof furry white, tied round the waist with a pink cord. One bath-towelwas round her shoulders, and a smaller one extended in her hands, withthe aid of which she proceeded to perform a fancy dance, calling outinstructions to herself the while, in imitation of the dancing-schoolmistress. "To the right--two--three! To the left--two--three! Spring!Pirouette! Atti-tude!" She stood poised on one foot, towel wavingabove her head, damp hair dripping down her back, while Esther andMellicent shrieked with laughter, and drummed applause with heel andtoe. Then she flopped down on the centre of the hearth, and there wasan instantaneous exclamation of dismay. 

"Phew! What a funny smell! Phew! Phew! Whatever can it be?"

"I smelt it too. Peggy, what have you been doing? It's simply awful!"

"Hair-wash, I suppose, or the soap--I noticed it myself. It will passoff, " said Peggy easily; but at that moment Mrs Asplin entered theroom, sniffed the air, and cried loudly--

"Bless me, what's this? A regular Apothecaries' Hall! Paregoric! Itsmells as if someone had been drinking quarts of paregoric! Peggy, child, your throat is not sore again?"

"Not at all, thank you. Quite well. I have taken no medicine to-day. "

"But it is you, Peggy--it really is!" Mellicent declared. "There wasno smell at all before you came into the room. I noticed it as soon asthe door was opened, and when you came and sat down beside us--whew!simply fearful!"

"I have taken _no_ medicine to-day, " repeated Peggy firmly. Then shestarted, as if with a sudden thought, lifted a lock of hair, sniffed atit daintily, and dropped it again with an air of conviction. "Ah, Icomprehend! There seems to have been a slight misunderstanding. I havemistaken the bottles. I imagined that I was using the mixture you gaveme, but--"

"She has washed her hair in cough-mixture! Oh, oh, oh! She has mixedparegoric and treacle with the water! Oh, what will I do! what will Ido! This child will be the death of me!" Mrs Asplin put her hand toher side, and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks, whileMellicent rolled about on the floor, and Esther's quiet "He, he, he!"filled up the intervals between the bursts of merriment. 

Peggy was marched off to have her hair re-washed and rinsed, and cameback ten minutes later, proudly complacent, to seat herself in the mostcomfortable stool and eat roast apple with elegant enjoyment. She wasevidently quite ready to enlarge upon her latest feat, but the sistershad exhausted the subject during her absence, and had, moreover, a pieceof news to communicate which was of even greater interest. 

"Oh, Peggy, what y'think?" cried Mellicent, running her words into eachother in breathless fashion, as her habit was when excited; "I've gotsomething beautiful to tell you. S'afternoon Bob got a letter from hismother to say that they were all coming down next week to stay at theLarches for the winter. They come almost every year, and haveshooting-parties, and come to church and sit in the big square pew, where you can just see their heads over the side. They look so funny, sitting in a row without their bodies. Last year there was a young ladywith them who wore a big grey hat--the loveliest hat you ever saw--withroses under the brim, and stick-up things all glittering with jewels, and she got married at Christmas. I saw her photograph in a magazine, and knew her again in a moment. I used to stare at her, and once shesmiled back at me. She looked sweet when she smiled. Lady Darcy alwayscomes to call on mother, and she and father go there to dinner ever somany times, and we are asked to play with Rosalind--the HonourableRosalind. I expect they will ask you to go too. Isn't it exciting?"

"I can bear it, " said Peggy coldly. "If I try very hard, I think I cansupport the strain. "

The Larches, the country house of Lord Darcy, had already been pointedout to her notice; but the information that the family was coming downfor the yearly visit was unwelcome to her, for a double reason. Shefeared, in the first place, lest it should mean a separation from Bob, who was her faithful companion, and fulfilled his promise of friendshipin a silent, undemonstrative fashion, much to her fancy. In the secondplace, she was conscious of a rankling feeling of jealousy towards theyoung lady who was distinguished by the name of the Honourable Rosalind, and who seemed to occupy an exalted position in the estimation of thevicar's daughters. Her name was frequently introduced intoconversation, and always in the most laudatory fashion. When a heroinewas of a superlatively fascinating description, she was "Just likeRosalind"; when an article of dress was unusually fine and dainty, itwould "do for Rosalind. " Rosalind was spoken of with bated breath, asif she were a princess in a fairy tale, rather than an ordinaryflesh-and-blood damsel. And Peggy did not like it; she did not like itat all, for, in her own quiet way, she was accustomed to queen it amongher associates, and could ill brook the idea of a rival. She had notbeen happy at school, but she had been complacently conscious that ofall the thirty girls she was the most discussed, the most observed, andalso, among the pupils themselves, the most beloved. At the vicarageshe was an easy first. When the three girls went out walking, she wasalways in the middle, with Esther and Mellicent hanging on an arm ateither side. Robert was her sworn vassal, and Max and Oswald herrespectful and, on the whole, obedient servants. Altogether, theprospect of playing second fiddle to this strange girl was by no meanspleasant. Peggy tilted her chin, and spoke in a cool, cynical tone. 

"What is she like, this wonderful Rosalind? Bob does not seem to thinkher extraordinary. I cannot imagine a `Miss Robert' being verybeautiful, and as she is his sister, I suppose they are alike. "

Instantly there arose a duet of protests. 

"Not in the least. Not a single bit. Rosalind is lovely! Blue eyes, golden hair--"

"Down past her waist--"

"The sweetest little hands--"

"A real diamond ring--"

"Pink cheeks--"

"Drives a pony-carriage, with long-tailed ponies--"

"Speaks French all day long with her governess--jabber, jabber, jabber, as quick as that--just like a native--"

"Plays the violin--"

"Has a lovely little sitting-room of her own, simply crammed with themost exquisite presents and books, and goes travelling abroad to Franceand Italy and hot places in winter. Lord and Lady Darcy simply worshipher, and so does everyone, for she is as beautiful as a picture. Don'tyou think it would be lovely to have a lord and lady for your father andmother?"

Peggy sniffed the air in scornful superiority. 

"I am very glad I've not! Titles are so ostentatious! Vulgar, I callthem! The very best families will have nothing to do with them. Myfather's people were all at the Crusades, and the Wars of the Roses, andthe Field of the Cloth of Gold. There is no older family in England, and they are called `Fighting Savilles, ' because they are always in thefront of every battle, winning honours and distinctions. I expect theyhave been offered titles over and over again, but they would not havethem. They refused them with scorn, and so would I if one were offeredto me. Nothing would induce me to accept it!"

Esther rolled her eyes in a comical, sideway fashion, and gave a littlechuckle of unbelief; but Mellicent looked quite depressed by thisreception of her grand news, and said anxiously--

"But, Peggy, think of it! The Honourable Mariquita! It would be toolovely! Wouldn't you feel proud writing it in visitors' books, andseeing it printed in newspapers when you grow up? `The HonourableMariquita wore a robe of white satin, trimmed with gold!'"

"Peggy Saville is good enough for me, thank you, " said that young lady, with a sudden access of humility. "I have no wish to have my clothesdiscussed in the public prints. But if you are invited to the Larchesto play with your Rosalind, pray don't consider me! I can stay at homealone. I don't mind being dull. I can turn my time to good account. Not for the world would I interfere with your pleasure?"

"But P-P-Peggy, dar-ling Peggy, we would not leave you alone!"Mellicent's eyes were wide with horror, she stretched out entreatinghands towards the unresponsive figure. To see Peggy cross and snappishlike--any other ordinary mortal was an extraordinary event, and quitealarming to her placid mind. "They will ask you, too, dear! I am surethey will--we will all be asked together!" she cried; but Peggy tossedher head, refusing to be conciliated. 

"I shall have a previous engagement. I am not at all sure that they arethe sort of people I ought to know, " she said. "My parents are soexclusive! They might not approve of the acquaintance!"

CHAPTER TEN. 

AMBITIONS!

Although Fraulein had charge over the girls' education, Mr Asplinreserved to himself the right of superintending their studies anddictating their particular direction. He was so accustomed to trainingboys for a definite end that he had no patience with the ordinaryaimless routine of a girl's school course, and in the case of hisdaughters had carefully provided for their different abilities andtastes. Esther was a born student, a clear-headed, hard-thinking girl, who took a delight in wrestling with Latin verbs and in solving problemsin Euclid, while she had little or no artistic faculty. He put herthrough much the same course as his own boys, gave her half an hour'sprivate lesson on unoccupied afternoons, and cut down the two hours'practising on the piano to a bare thirty minutes. Esther had pleaded togive up music altogether, on the ground that she had neither love norskill for this accomplishment, but to this the vicar would not agree. 

"You have already spent much time over it, and have passed the worst ofthe drudgery; it would be folly to lose all you have learnt, " he said. "You may not wish to perform in public, but there are many other ways inwhich your music may be useful. In time to come you would be sorry ifyou could not read an accompaniment to a song, play bright airs to amusechildren, or hymn tunes to help in a service. Half an hour a day willkeep up what you have learned, and so much time you must manage tospare. "

With Mellicent the case was almost exactly opposite. It was a waste oftime trying to teach her mathematics, she had not sufficient brain powerto grasp them, and if she succeeded in learning a proposition by heartlike a parrot, it was only to collapse into helpless tears andprotestations when the letters were altered, and, as it seemed to her, the whole argument changed thereby. 

Fraulein protested that it was impossible to teach Mellicent to reason;but the vicar was loath to give up his pet theory that girls shouldreceive the same hard mental training as their brothers. He declaredthat if the girl were weak in this direction, it was all the morenecessary that she should be trained, and volunteered to take her inhand for half an hour daily, to see what could be done. Frauleinaccepted this offer with a chuckle of satisfaction, and the vicar wenton with the lessons several weeks, patiently plodding over the sameground without making the least impression on poor Mellicent's brain, until there came one happy never-to-be-forgotten morning when Algebraand Euclid went spinning up to the ceiling, and he jumped from the tablewith a roar of helpless laughter. 

"Oh, baby! baby! this is past all bearing! We might try for a century, and never get any further. I cannot waste any more time. " Then, seeingthe large tears gathering, he framed the pretty face in his hands, andlooked at it with a tender smile. "Never mind, darling! there arebetter things in this world than being clever and learned. You will beour little house-daughter; help mother with her work, and play and singto father when he is tired in the evening. Work hard at your music, learn how to manage a house, to sew and mend and cook, and you will havenothing to regret. A woman who can make a home, has done more than manyscholars. "

So it came to pass that Mellicent added the violin to heraccomplishments, and was despatched to her own room to practiseexercises, while her elder sister wrestled with problems and equations. 

When Peggy Saville arrived, here was a fresh problem, for Frauleinreported that the good child could not add five and six together withouttapping them over on her finger; was as ignorant of geography as alittle heathen, and had so little ear for music that she could not sing"Rule Britannia" without branching off into "God save the Queen. " Butwhen it came to poetry!--Fraulein held up her hands in admiration. Itwas absolutely no effort to that child to remember, her eyes seemed toflash down the page, and the lines were her own, and as she repeatedthem her face shone, and her voice thrilled with such passionate delightthat Esther and Mellicent had been known to shed tears at the sound ofwords which had fallen dead and lifeless from their own lips. And atcomposition, how original she was! What a relief it was to find sogreat a contrast to other children! When it was the life of a great manwhich should be written, Esther and Mellicent began their essays asninety-nine out of a hundred schoolgirls would do, with a flat andobvious statement of birth, birthplace, and parentage; but Peggydisdained such commonplace methods, and dashed headlong into the heartof her subject with a high-flown sentiment, or a stirring assertionwhich at once arrested the reader's interest. And it was the same withwhatever she wrote; she had the power of investing the dullest subjectwith charm and brightness. Fraulein could not say too much of Peggy'spowers in this direction, and the vicar's eye brightened as he listened. He asked eagerly to be allowed to see the girl's manuscript book, andsummoned his wife from pastry-making in the kitchen to hear the three orfour essays which it contained. 

"What do you think of those for a girl of fourteen? There's a pupil foryou! If she were only a boy! Such dash--such spirit--such a gift ofwords! Do you notice her adjectives? Exaggerated, no doubt, andover-abundant, but so apt, so true, so strong! That child can write:she has the gift. She ought to turn out an author of no mean rank. "

"Oh, dear me! I hope not. I hope she will marry a nice, kind man whowill be good to her, and have too much to do looking after her childrento waste her time writing stories, " cried Mrs Asplin, who adored a goodnovel when she could get hold of one, but harboured a prejudice againstall women-authors as strong-minded creatures, who lived in lodgings, andsported short hair, inky fingers, and a pen behind the ear. MariquitaSaville was surely destined for a happier fate. "When a woman can liveher _own_ romance, why need she trouble her head about inventingothers?"

Her husband looked at her with a quizzical smile. 

"Even the happiest life is not all romance, dear. It sometimes seemsunbearably prosaic, and then it is a relief to lose oneself in fiction. You can't deny that! I seem to have a remembrance of seeing someone Iknow seated in a big chair before this very fire devouring a novel and aNewton pippin together on more Saturday afternoons than I could number. "

"Tuts!" said his wife, and blushed a rosy red, which made her lookridiculously young and pretty. Saturday afternoon was her holiday-timeof the week, and she had not yet outgrown her schoolgirl love of eatingapples as an accompaniment to an interesting book; but how aggravatingto be reminded of her weakness just at this moment of all others! "Whatan inconvenient memory you have!" she said complainingly. "Can't a poorbody indulge in a little innocent recreation without having it broughtup against her in argument ever afterwards? And I thought we weretalking about Peggy! What is at the bottom of this excitement? I knowyou have some plan in your head. "

"I mean to see that she reads good books, and only books that will help, and not hinder, her progress. The rest will come in time. She mustlearn before she can teach, have some experience of her own before shecan imagine the experiences of others; but writing is Peggy's gift, andshe has been put in my charge. I must try to give her the righttraining. "

From that time forward Mr Asplin studied Peggy with a special interest, and a few evenings later a conversation took place among the youngpeople which confirmed him in his conclusion as to her possibilities. Lessons were over for the day, and girls and boys were amusingthemselves in the drawing-room, while Mr Asplin read the _Spectator_, and his wife knitted stockings by the fire. Mellicent was embroideringa prospective Christmas present, an occupation which engaged her leisurehours from March to December; Esther was reading, and Peggy was supposedto be writing a letter, but was, in reality, talking incessantly, withher elbows planted on the table, and her face supported on her claspedhands. She wore a bright pink frock, which gave a tinge of colour tothe pale face, her hair was unbound from the tight pigtail and tied witha ribbon on the nape of her neck, from which it fell in smooth heavywaves to her waist. It was one of the moments when her companionsrealised with surprise that Peggy could look astonishingly pretty uponoccasion; and Oswald, from the sofa, and Max and Bob, from the oppositeside of the table, listened to her words with all the more attention onthat account. 

She was discussing the heroine of a book which they had been reading inturns, pointing out the inconsistencies in her behaviour, andexpatiating on the superior manner in which she--Mariquita--would havebehaved, had positions been reversed. Then the boys had described theirown imaginary conduct under the trying circumstances, drawing forthpeals of derisive laughter from the feminine audience; and the questionhad finally drifted from "What would you do?" to "What would you be?"with the result that each one was eager to expatiate on his own petschemes and ambitions. 

"I should like to come out first in all England in the LocalExaminations, get my degree of M. A. , and be a teacher in a large HighSchool, " said Esther solemnly. "At Christmas and Easter I would comehome and see my friends, and in summer-time I'd go abroad and travel, and rub up my languages. Of course, what I should like best would be tobe headmistress of Girton, but I could not expect that to come for agood many years. I must be content to work my way up, and I shall bequite happy wherever I am, so long as I am teaching. "

"Poor old Esther! and she will wear spectacles, and black alpacadresses, and woollen mittens on her hands! Can't I see her!" cried Max, throwing back his head with one of the cheery bursts of laughter whichbrought his mother's eyes upon him with a flash of adoring pride. "Nowthere's none of that overweening ambition about me. I could bear up ifI never saw an improving book again. What _I_ would like would be forsome benevolent old millionaire to take a fancy to me, and adopt me ashis heir. I feel cut out to be a country gentleman, and march about ingaiters and knickerbockers, looking after the property, don't you know, and interviewing my tenants. I'd be strict with them, but kind at thesame time; look into all their grievances, and put them right whenever Icould. I'd make it a model place before I'd done with it, and all thepeople would adore me. That's my ambition, and a very good one it istoo; I defy anyone to have a better. "

"I should like to marry a very rich man with a big moustache, and abeautiful house in London with a fireplace in the hall, " cried Mellicentfervently. "I should have carriages and horses, and a diamond necklaceand three children: Valentine Roy--that should be the boy--andHildegarde and Ermyntrude, the girls, and they should have golden hairlike Rosalind, and blue eyes, and never wear anything but white, and bigsilk sashes. I'd have a housekeeper to look after the dinners andthings, and a governess for the children, and never do anything myselfexcept give orders and go out to parties. I'd be the happiest womanthat ever lived. "

Lazy Oswald smiled in complacent fashion. 

"And the fattest! Dearie me, wouldn't you be a tub! I don't know thatI have any special ambition. I mean to get my degree if I can, and thenpersuade the governor to send me a tour round the world. I like movingabout, and change and excitement, and travelling is good fun if youavoid the fag, and provide yourself with introductions to the rightpeople. I know a fellow who went off for a year, and had no end of atime; people put him up at their houses, and got up balls and dinnersfor his benefit, and he never had to rough it a bit. I could put in ayear or two in that way uncommonly well. "

Rob had been wriggling on his chair and scowling in his wild-bearfashion all the while Oswald was speaking, and at the conclusion herelieved his feelings by kicking out recklessly beneath the table, withthe result that Peggy sat up suddenly with a "My foot, my friend! Curbyour enthusiasm!" which made him laugh, despite his annoyance. 

"But it's such bosh!" he cried scornfully. "It makes me sick to hear afellow talk such nonsense. Balls and dinners--faugh! If that's youridea of happiness, why not settle down in London and be done with it!That's the place for you! I'd give my ears to go round the world, but Iwouldn't thank you to go with a dress suit and a valet; I'd want torough it, to get right out of the track of civilisation and taste a newlife; to live with the Bedouin in their tents as some of those artistfellows have done, or make friends with a tribe of savages. Magnificent! I'd keep a notebook with an account of all I did, and allthe strange plants and flowers and insects I came across, and write abook when I came home. I'd a lot rather rough it in Africa than loungeabout Piccadilly in a frock coat and tall hat. " Robert sighed at thehard prospect which lay before him as the son of a noble house, thenlooked across the table with a smile: "And what says the fair Mariquita?What _role_ in life is she going to patronise when she comes to yearsof discretion?"

Peggy nibbled the end of her pen and stared into space. 

"I've not quite decided, " she said slowly. "I should like to be eitheran author or an orator, but I'm not sure which. I think, on the whole, an orator, because then you could watch the effect of your words. It isnot possible, of course, but what I should like best would be to be theArchbishop of Canterbury, or some great dignitary of the Church. Oh, just imagine it! To stand up in the pulpit and see the dim cathedralbefore one, and the faces of the people looking up, white and solemn. --I'd stand waiting until the roll of the organ died away, and there was agreat silence; then I would look at them, and say to myself--`A thousandpeople, two thousand people, and for half an hour they are in my power. I can make them think as I will, see as I will, feel as I will. Theyare mine! I am their leader. '--I cannot imagine anything in the worldmore splendid than that! I should choose to be the most wonderfulorator that was ever known, and people would come from all over theworld to hear me, and I would say beautiful things in beautiful words, and see the answer in their faces, and meet the flash in the eyeslooking up into mine. Oh-h! if it could only--only be true; but itcan't, you see. I am a girl, and if I try to do anything in public I amas nervous as a rabbit, and can only squeak, squeak, squeak in a tinylittle voice that would not reach across the room. I had to recite at aprize-giving at school once, and, my dears, it was a lamentable failure!I was only audible to the first three rows, and when it was over Isimply sat down and howled, and my knees shook. Oh dear, the veryrecollection unpowers me! So I think, on the whole, I shall be anauthoress, and let my pen be my sceptre. From my quiet fireside, " criedPeggy, with a sudden assumption of the Mariquita manner, and a swing ofthe arms which upset a vase of chrysanthemums, and sent a stream ofwater flowing over the table--"from my quiet fireside I will sway thehearts of men--"

"My plush cloth! Oh, bad girl--my new plush cloth! You dreadful Peggy, what will I do with you?" Mrs Asplin rushed forward to mop with herhandkerchief and lift the dripping flowers to a place of safety, whilePeggy rolled up her eyes with an expression of roguish impenitence. 

"Dear Mrs Asplin, it was not I, it was that authoress. She wasevolving her plots... Pity the eccentricities of the great!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

A SHAKESPEARE READING. 

Esther was preparing for the Cambridge Local Examination at Christmas, and making a special study of _The Merchant of Venice_, as the playchosen for the year. 

Fraulein explained the notes, and expatiated on the Venice of the pastand the manners and customs of its inhabitants; but it was Mr Asplinwho had the brilliant idea of holding a Shakespeare reading which shouldmake the play live in the imagination of the young people, as no amountof study could do. The suggestion was made one day at dinner, and wasreceived with acclamation by everyone present. 

"Oh, how lovely, father! It will help me ever so much!" said Esther. "And Peggy must be Portia. "

"I'd like to be that funny little man Launcelot--what do you call it?--only I know I couldn't do it, " said Mellicent humbly. "I'll be theservants and people who come in and give messages. But, of course, Peggy must be Portia. "

"Peggy shall be Portia, and I'll be the Jew, and snarl at her across thecourt, " said Rob, with an assurance which was not at all appreciated byhis companions. 

"I've rather a fancy to try Shylock myself, " Max declared. "Oswaldwould make a capital Bassanio, and you could manage Antonio all right ifyou tried, for he has not so much to do. Let me see: Peggy--Portia;Esther--Nerissa; Mellicent--Jessica (she's so like a Jewess, you see!);you and Oswald--Bassanio and Antonio; Shylock--my noble self. Fatherand mother to help out with the smaller characters. There you are! Acapital cast, and everyone satisfied. I'm game to be Shylock, but Ican't do the sentimental business. You two fellows will have to takethem, and we'll divide the smaller fry among us. "

"Indeed we will do nothing of the kind. I'm not going to take Bassanio;I couldn't do it, and I won't try. I'll have a shot at Shylock if youlike, but I can't do anything else. The cast is all wrong, except sofar as Peggy is concerned. Of course she is Portia. "

"Proposed, seconded, and carried unanimously that Peggy is Portia!" saidMr Asplin, smiling across the table at that young lady, who tried tolook modest and unconcerned, but was plainly aglow with satisfaction. "For Shylock, as the character seems so much in demand, we had betterdraw lots. I will write the names on slips of paper, and you must allagree to take what comes, and make the best of it. I will fill in thegaps, and I am sure mother will help all she can--"

"Lemonade in the intervals, and coffee for those who prefer it, withsome of my very best company cake, " said Mrs Asplin briskly. "It willbe quite an excitement. I should rather like to be Shylock myself, anddefy Peggy and her decree; but I'll give it up to the boys, and makemyself generally useful. Why couldn't we begin to-night?"

"Oh, Mrs Asplin, no! It will take me days to get up my part! And thecostumes--consider the costumes!" cried Peggy anxiously. And herhostess raised her hands in surprise. 

"The costumes! Are you going to dress up? I never thought of that!"

"Surely that is unnecessary, Peggy! You can read the play withoutchanging your clothes!" echoed the vicar; but, from the chorus ofdisclaimer which greeted his words, it appeared that the young peoplecould do nothing of the sort. 

Max wanted to know how a fellow could possibly "talk Shylock" in a whitetie and an evening jacket. Oswald thought it equally ridiculous to poseas an Italian lover in English clothing; and Peggy turned up her eyesand said she could not really abandon herself to her part if her costumewere inappropriate. Even Esther, the sober-minded, sided with the rest, so the vicar laughed and gave way, only too pleased to sanction anythingwhich helped the object which he had at heart. 

"Dress up by all means, if it pleases you. It will be interesting tosee the result. But, of course, I must be absolved from any experimentsof the kind. "

"Oh, of course! And mother, too, if she likes, though I should love tosee her made-up as Shylock! You must not see or ask about our dressesuntil the night arrives. They must be a secret. You will lend us allyour fineries, mother--won't you?"

"Bless your heart, yes! But I haven't got any!" said Mrs Asplin, inher funny Irish way. "They were all worn out long, long ago. " She gavea little sigh for the memory of the days when she had a wardrobe full ofpretty things and a dozen shimmery silk dresses hanging on the pegs, andthen flashed a loving smile at her husband, in case he might think thatshe regretted their loss. "If there is anything about the rooms thatwould do, you are welcome to use it, " she added, glancing vaguely at thesideboard and dumb waiter, while the boys laughed loudly at the idea offinding any "properties" in the shabby old dining-room. 

Peggy, however, returned thanks in the most gracious manner, and satwrapt in thought for the rest of the evening, gazing darkly around fromtime to time, and scribbling notes on sheets of note-paper. 

Short of playing Shylock, which in the end fell to Maxwell's share, itseemed as if all the responsibility of the performance fell on Peggy'sshoulders. She was stage manager, selecting appropriate pieces offurniture from the different rooms and piling them together behind thescreen in the study, whence they could be produced at a moment's notice, to give some idea of the different scenes. She coached Esther andMellicent in their parts, designed and superintended the making of thecostumes, and gave the finishing touches to each actor in turn when thenight of the "Dramatic Reading" arrived. 

"Taking one consideration with another, " as Max remarked, "the costumeswere really masterpieces of art. "

To attire two young gentlemen as Italian cavaliers, and a third as abearded Jew, with no materials at hand beyond the ordinary furnishingsof a house, is a task which calls for no small amount of ingenuity, yetthis is exactly what Peggy had done. 

Antonio and Bassanio looked really uncommonly fine specimens, withcycling knickerbockers, opera cloaks slung over their shoulders, andflannel shirts pouched loosely over silk sashes, and ornamented withfrills of lace at wrists and neck. Darkened eyebrows gave them ahandsome and distinguished air, and old straw hats and feathers satjauntily on their tow wigs. 

The vicar sat in the arm-chair by the fire, Shakespeare in hand, waitingto fill in the odd parts with his wife's help, and simultaneous cries ofastonishment and admiration greeted the appearance of the two actors atthe beginning of the first scene. 

"It's wonderful! Did I ever see such children? What in the world havethey got on their heads? Milly's old leghorn, I declare, and my pinkfeathers. My old pink feathers! Deary me! I'd forgotten all aboutthem. I've never worn them since the year that--"

"`In sooth, I know not why I am so sad, '" quoth the wearer of thefeathers, scowling darkly at the frivolous prattler, who straightway hidher head behind her book, and read Salanio's first speech in a tone ofmeek apology. 

There was a great deal of confusion about the first scene, for fourpeople had to read the parts of six, and one of the number was so muchoccupied with gazing at the costumes of the actors that she invariablylost her place, and had to be called to order by significant coughs andglances. By this time it generally happened that the vicar had made uphis mind to come to the rescue, and both husband and wife would begin toread at the same moment, to their own amusement, and to the disgust ofthe two lads, who felt uncomfortable in their borrowed plumes, andkeenly sensitive about their precious dignity. Antonio mumbled his lastspeech in undignified haste, and followed Bassanio out of the room, prepared to echo his statement that this sort of thing was "tomfoolery, "and that he wasn't going to make an idiot of himself any longer toplease Peggy Saville, or any other girl in the world. But the wordsdied on his lips, for outside, in the hall, stood Peggy herself, orrather Portia, and such a Portia as made him fairly blink withamazement! Amidst the bustle of the last few days Portia's own costumehad been kept a secret, so that the details came as a surprise to theother members of the party. Nerissa stood by her side, clad in aflowing costume, the component parts of which included a dressing-gown, an antimacassar, and a flowered chintz curtain; but, despite the natureof the materials, the colouring was charming, and frizzled hair, flushedcheeks, and sparkling eyes, transformed the sober Esther into a verypersonable attendant on the lady of Belmont. There was nothing of thedressing-gown character about Portia's own attire, however. Itsmagnificence took away the breath of the beholders. The little witchhad combed her hair to the top of her head, and arranged it in a coil, which gave height and dignity to her figure. A string of pearls wastwisted in and out among the dark tresses; her white silk frock wasmysteriously lengthened and ornamented by two large diamond-shapedpieces of satin encrusted with gold, one placed at the bottom of theskirt, and the other hanging loosely from the square-cut neck of thebodice. Long yellow silk sleeves fell over the bare arms and reachedthe ground; and from the shoulders hung a train of golden-hued plush, lined with a paler shade of yellow. Bassanio and Gratiano stood aghast, and Portia simpered at them sweetly in the intervals between dispensingstage directions to the boot boy, who was clad in his best suit for theoccasion, and sent to and fro to change the arrangement of the scenery. He wheeled the sofa into the centre of the room, piled it up with bluecushions, and retired to make way for the two ladies, who were alreadyedging in at the door. 

A gasp of astonishment greeted their appearance, but when Peggy draggedher heavy train across the room, threw herself against the cushions inan attitude calculated to show off all the splendour of her attire, whenshe leant her pearl-decked head upon her hand, turned her eyes to theceiling, and said, with a sigh as natural and easy as if they were herown words which she was using, and not those of the immortal Shakespearehimself, "`By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a-weary of this greatworld!'"--then the vicar broke into a loud "Hear! hear!" of delight, andMrs Asplin seized the poker and banged uproarious applause upon thefender. For the first few minutes amazement and admiration held herdumb; but as the girls moved to and fro, and the details of theircostumes became more apparent, she began to utter spasmodic cries ofrecognition, somewhat trying to the composure of the actors. 

Portia's description of her lovers was interrupted by a cry of, "Mytable centres! The Turkish squares I bought at the Exhibition, and havenever used! Wherever did they find them?" while a little later cameanother cry, as the identity of the plush train made itself known, "My_portiere_ from the drawing-room door! My beautiful _portiere_--withthe nice new lining! Oh dear, dear! it's dragging about all over thedirty carpet! Don't sit on it, dear! For pity's sake, don't git onit!"

"Mother!" cried Esther, in a deep tone of remonstrance; but Portia wasunconscious of interruption. The other actors held their books in theirhands, and, for the most part, read their speeches; but Peggy trustedentirely to memory, and sighed and yawned over the denunciation of herlovers, with evident satisfaction to herself as well as to thebeholders. Nerissa read her part "conscientiously, " as the newspaperswould say, punctuating her sentences in exemplary fashion, and layingthe emphasis upon the right words as directed by the stage manageress;but, such is the contrariness of things, that, with all her efforts, theeffect was stiff and stifled, while Peggy drawled through her sentences, or gabbled them over at break-neck speed, used no emphasis at all, orhalf a dozen running, at her own sweet will, and was so truly Portiathat the vicar wondered dreamily if he should have to interview the Dukeof Morocco in his study, and Mrs Asplin sighed unconsciously, and toldherself that the child was too young to be troubled with lovers. Shemust not dream of accepting any one of them for years to come!

At the end of the scene, however, anxiety about her beloved _portiere_overpowered everything else in the mind of the vicar's wife, and sherushed after the actors to call out eager instructions. "Hang it up atonce--there's good children. If you put it down on a chair, Peggy willsit on it as sure as fate! And oh! my table centres! Put them back inthe drawer if you love me! Wrap them up in the tissue paper as youfound them!"

"Mother, you are a terrible person! Go back, there's a dear, and dokeep quiet!" cried a muffled voice from behind the dining-room door, asShylock dodged back to escape observation; and Mrs Asplin retreatedhastily, aghast at the sight of a hairy monster, in whom she failed torecognise a trace of her beloved son and heir. Shylock's make-up was, in truth, the triumph of the evening. The handsome lad had beentransformed into a bent, misshapen old man, and anything more ugly, frowsy, and generally unattractive than he now appeared it would beimpossible to imagine. A cushion gave a hump to his shoulders, and overthis he wore an aged purple dressing-gown, which had once belonged tothe vicar. The dressing-gown was an obvious refuge; but who but PeggySaville would have thought of the trimming, which was the making of theshaggy, unkempt look so much desired? Peggy had sat with her handsclasped on her lap, and her head on one side, staring at the gown whenit was held out for her approval two days before, then had suddenlyrisen, and rushed two steps at a time upstairs to the topmost landing, awide, scantily furnished space which served for a playground on wetafternoons. An oilcloth covered the floor, a table stood in a corner, and before each of the six doors was an aged wool rug, maroon as tocolouring, with piebald patches here and there where the skin of thelining showed through the scanty tufts. Peggy gave a whoop of triumph, tucked one after the other beneath her arm, and went flying down again, dropping a mat here and there, tripping over it, and nearly falling fromtop to bottom of the stairs. Hairbreadth escapes were, however, so mucha part of her daily existence that she went on her way unperturbed, andcarried her bundle into the study, where the girls sniffed derisively, and the boys begged to know what she intended to do with all thatrubbish. 

"`They that have no invention should be hanged, '" quoted Peggy, unperturbed. "Give me a packet of pins, and I'll soon show you what Iam going to do. Dear, dear, dear, I don't know what you would dowithout me! You are singularly bereft of imagination. "

She tossed her pigtail over her shoulder, armed herself with the largestpins she could find, and set to work to fasten the mats down the frontof the gown, and round the hem at the bottom, so that the wool hung inshaggy ends over the feet. The skins were thick, the heads of the pinspressed painfully into her fingers, but she groaned and worked awayuntil the border was arranged for stitching, and could be tried on toshow the effect. 

"Perfectly splendid!" was the verdict of the beholders. And so thematter of Shylock's gown was settled; but his beard still remained to beprovided, and was by no means an easy problem to solve. 

"Tow!" suggested Mellicent; but the idea was hooted by all the others. The idea of Shylock as a blonde was too ridiculous to be tolerated. False hair was not to be bought in a small village, and Maxwell'syouthful face boasted as yet only the faintest shadow of a moustache. 

The question was left over for consideration, and an inspiration camethe same afternoon, when Robert hurled one of the roller-like cushionsof the sofa at Oswald's head, and Oswald, in catching it, tore loose aportion of the covering. 

"Now you've done it!" he cried. "The room will be covered withfeathers, and then you will say it was my fault! We shall have tofasten the stupid thing up somehow or other!" He peered through theopening as he spoke, and his face changed. "It's not feathers--it'shorsehair! Here's a find! What about that wig for Shylock?"

Esther was dubious. 

"It would take a great deal of horsehair to make a wig. It would spoilthe cushion if the horsehair were taken away; it would spoil the sofa ifthe cushion were small; it would spoil the room if the sofa--"

Peggy interrupted with a shriek of laughter. "Oh, oh, oh! It's likethe `House that Jack built'! How long do you intend to go on like that?Nonsense, my dear! It would be perfectly easy to take out what wewant, and put it back afterwards. I'll promise to do it myself and sewit up tightly, though, if you desire my opinion, I think the cushionwould be improved by letting in a little air. You might as well leanyour head on a brick. Max, you are a made man! You shall have abeautiful, crinkly black wig, and a beard to match! We will sew them toyour turban, and fasten them with black elastic. It will never show, and I'll finish off the joins after you are dressed. You'll see?"

"You can do as you like! I'm in your hands!" said Max easily; and whenthe night of the reading arrived, and he was attired in wig and gown, Peggy seated him in a chair and tucked a towel under his chin with anair of business. She had a number of small accessories on a table nearat hand, and Max was first instructed to stick pieces of black plasterover alternate teeth, so that he might appear to possess only a fewisolated fangs, and then made to lie back in his chair, while hisdresser stood over him with a glue-brush in one hand and a bunch ofloose horsehair in the other. 

"Shut your eyes!" she cried loudly. And before he could say "JackRobinson" a tuft of the wiry stuff covered his eyebrow. "Keep your facestill!" And, to his horror, the gum was daubed from the borders of thebeard, halfway up to his eyes, and little prickly ends of hair were heldin Peggy's palm and pressed against his cheeks until they were firmlyattached. 

This, indeed, was more than he had bargained for! He jerked back hishead, and began a loud-voiced protest, only to be interrupted by shrieksof excitement. 

"Oh, oh, oh! It's beautiful--beautiful! What a fright! What adelicious fright! No one would know you! You look an old hairy monsterwho would gobble up half a dozen Christians. Do look at yourself!"

Peggy felt the pride of an artist in the result of her efforts, and Maxwas hardly less delighted than herself as he stood before the glass, gazing at his hairy cheeks and leering horribly, to admire his toothlessgums. If the result were so hideous as to astonish even those who hadwatched the process of his make-up, what wonder that the effect uponShylock's fond parents was of a stupefying nature!

Horror kept Mrs Asplin silent until the middle of the scene betweenShylock and Antonio when the bond is signed, and then her agitationcould no longer be controlled, and Shylock's little speeches wereinterrupted by entreaties to take that horrid stuff off his teeth, touse plenty of hot water in washing his face, and to be sure to anoint itplentifully with cold cream after doing so. 

An ordinary lad would have lost his temper at these interruptions; butMax adored his mother, and could never take anything she did in a wrongspirit. Anger being therefore impossible, the only other resource wasto laugh, which, in Peggy's opinion, was even worse than the former. AShylock who chuckled between his speeches, and gave a good-humoured "Ha!ha!" just before uttering his bitterest invective, was a ridiculousparody of the character, with whom it would be impossible to act. Itwould be hard indeed if all her carefully rehearsed speeches lost theireffect, and the famous trial scene were made into a farce through theseuntimely interruptions!

The second part of the play went more smoothly, however, as the audiencesettled down to a more attentive hearing, and the actors became lessself-conscious and embarrassed. If four out of the six were sticks, whonever for a moment approached the verge of the natural, Portia andShylock did nobly, and, when the reading was over and the young peoplegathered round the fire in the drawing-room, it was unanimously agreedthat they had acquired a more intimate knowledge of the play by this oneevening's representation than by weeks of ordinary study. 

"I feel so much more intimate with it!" said Esther. "It seems to havemade it alive, instead of just something I have read in a book. It wasa delightful thought, father, and I am grateful to you for proposing it. I wish I could do all my lessons in the same way. "

"I've not enjoyed myself so much for ages. You just did beautifully, all of you, and the dresses were a sight to behold. As for Peggy, she'sa witch, and could make up costumes on a desert island, if she were putto it! But I don't know what is going to happen to my poor, dear boy'sface. Oswald, what is he doing? Isn't he coming to have some lemonadeand cake?" asked Mrs Asplin anxiously. And Oswald chuckled in aheartless fashion. 

"Pride must abide. He would be Shylock, whether we liked it or not, solet him take the consequences. He is fighting it out with cold cream inthe bathroom, and some of the horsehair sticks like fun. I'll go up andtell him we have eaten all the cake. He was getting savage when I camedown, and it will sweeten his temper!"

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

PEGGY IN TROUBLE. 

As Peggy sat writing in the study one afternoon, a shaggy head camepeering round the door, and Robert's voice said eagerly--"Mariquita! Aword in your ear! Could you come out and take a turn round the gardenfor half an hour before tea, or are you too busy?"

"Not at all. I am entirely at your disposal, " said Peggy elegantly; andthe young people made their way to the cloak-room, swung on coats andsailor hats, and sallied out into the fresh autumn air. 

"Mariquita, " said Robert then, using once more the name by which hechose to address Peggy in their confidential confabs, "Mariquita, I amin difficulties! There is a microscope advertised in _Science_ thisweek, that is the very thing I have been pining for for the last sixyears. I must _get_ it, or die; but the question is--_how_? You seebefore you a penniless man. " He looked at Peggy as he spoke, and mether small, demure smile. 

"My dear and honourable sir--"

"Yes, yes, I know; drop that, Mariquita! Don't take for granted, likeMellicent, that because a man has a title he must necessarily be amillionaire. Everything is comparative! My father is rich compared tothe vicar, but he is really hard-up for a man in his position. He getsalmost no rent for his land nowadays, and I am the third son. I haven'tas much pocket-money in a month as Oswald gets through in a week. Nowthat microscope costs twenty pounds, and if I were to ask the governorfor it, he wouldn't give it to me, but he would sigh and look wretchedat being obliged to refuse. He's a kind-hearted fellow, you know, whodoesn't like to say `No, ' and I hate to worry him. Still--thatmicroscope! I must have it. By hook or by crook, I must have it. I'veset my mind on that. "

"I'm sure I hope you will, though for my part you must not expect me tolook through it. I like things to be pretty, and when you see themthrough a microscope they generally look hideous. I saw my own handonce--ugh!" Peggy shuddered. "Twenty pounds! Well, I can only saythat my whole worldly wealth is at your disposal. Draw on me foranything you like--up to seven-and-six! That's all the money I havetill the beginning of the month. "

"Thanks!--I didn't intend to borrow; I have a better idea than that. Iwas reading a magazine the other day, and came upon a list of prizecompetitions. The first prize offered was thirty pounds, and I'm goingto win that prize! The microscope costs only twenty pounds, but theextra ten would come in usefully for--I'll tell you about that later on!The _Piccadilly Magazine_ is very respectable and all that sort ofthing; but the governor is one of the good, old-fashioned, conservativefellows, who would be horrified if he saw my name figuring in it. I'mbound to consider his feelings, but all the same I'm going to win thatprize. It says in the rules--I've read them through carefully--that youcan ask your friends to help you, so that there would be nothing unfairabout going into partnership with someone else. What I was going tosuggest was that you and I should collaborate. I'd rather work with youthan with any of the others, and I think we could manage it rather wellbetween us. Our contribution should be sent in in your name; that is tosay, if you wouldn't object to seeing yourself in print. "

"I should love it. I'm proud of my name; and it would be a newsensation. " But Peggy spoke in absent-minded fashion, as if herthoughts were running on another subject. Rob had used a word which wasunfamiliar in her ears, a big word, a word with a delightfulintellectual roll, and she had not the remotest idea of its meaning. Collaborate! Beautiful! Not for worlds would she confess herignorance, yet the opportunity could not be thrown away. She mustsecure the treasure, and add it to her mental store. She put her headon one side, and said pensively--

"I shall be most happy to er--er--In what other words can I express`collaborate, ' Rob? I object to repetition?"

"Go shags!" returned Robert briefly. "I would do the biggest part ofthe work, of course--that's only fair, because I want two-thirds of themoney--but you could do what you liked, and have ten pounds for yourshare. Ten pounds would come in very usefully for Christmas. "

"Rather! I'd get mother and father lovely presents, and Mrs Asplintoo; and buy books for Esther, and a little gold ring for Mellicent--it's her idea of happiness to have a gold ring. I'll help you withpleasure, Rob, and I'm sure we shall get the prize. What have we to do?Compose some poetry?"

"Goodness, no! Fancy me making up poetry! It's to make up a calendar. There are subjects given for each month--sorrow, love, obedience, resignation--that sort of thing, and you have to give a quotation foreach day. It will take some time, but we ought to stand a good chance. You are fond of reading, and know no end of poetry, and where I have apull is in knowing French and German _so_ well. I can give them somefine translations from the Latin and Greek too, for the matter of that, and put the authors' names underneath. That will impress the judges, and make 'em decide in our favour. I've been working at it only threedays, and I've got over fifty quotations already. We must keepnote-books in our pockets, and jot down any ideas that occur to usduring the day, and go over them together at night. You will know alot, I'm sure. "

 "`Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike, Therefore accomplish thy labour of love, till the heart is made godlike. '"

quoted Peggy with an air; and Rob nodded approval. 

"That's it! That's the style! Something with a bit of a sermon in itto keep 'em up to the mark for the day. Bravo, Mariquita! you'll do itsplendidly. That's settled, then. We shall have to work hard, forthere is only a month before it must be sent off, and we must finish ingood time. When you leave things to the last, something is bound tocome in the way. It will take an age to write out three hundred andsixty-five extracts. "

"It will indeed, for they must be very nicely done, " said Peggyfastidiously. "Of course it is most important that the extractsthemselves should be good, but it matters almost as much that theyshould look neat and attractive. Appearances go such a long way. " Andwhen Robert demurred, and stated his opinion that the judges would nottrouble their heads about looks, she stuck firmly to her point. 

"Oh, won't they, though! Just imagine how you would feel if you were intheir position, and had to look over scores of ugly, uninterestingmanuscripts. You would be bored to death, and, after ploddingconscientiously through a few dozen, you would get so mixed up that youwould hardly be able to distinguish one from another. Then suddenly--suddenly, "--Peggy clasped her hands with one of her favourite dramaticgestures--"you would see before you a dainty little volume, prettilywritten, easy to read, easy to hold, nice to look at, and do you mean tosay that your heart wouldn't give a jump, and that you would not take afancy to the writer from that very moment? Of course you would; and so, if you please, I am going to look after the decorative department, andsee what can be done. I must give my mind to it--Oh! I'll tell youwhat would be just the thing. When I was in the library one day latelyI saw some sweet little note-books with pale green leaves and giltedges. I'll count the pages, and buy enough to make up three hundredand sixty-five, and twelve extra, so as to put one plain sheet betweeneach month. Then we must have a cover. Two pieces of cardboard woulddo, with gilt edges, and a motto in Old English letters--`_The months incircling-orbit fly_. ' Have I read that somewhere, or did I make it up?It sounds very well. Well, what next?" Peggy was growing quiteexcited, and the restless hands were waving about at a great rate. "Oh, the pages! We shall have to put the date at the top of each. I coulddo that in gold ink, and make a pretty little skriggle--er--`_arabesque_' I should say, underneath, to give it a finish. ThenI'd hand them on to you to write the extracts in your tiny littlewriting. Rob, it will be splendid! Do you really think we shall getthe prize?"

"I _mean_ to get it! We have a good library here, and plenty of time, if we like to use it. I'm going to get up at six every morning. Ishan't fail for want of trying, and if I miss this I'll win somethingelse. My mind is made up! I'm going to buy that microscope!" Roberttossed his head and looked ferocious, while Peggy peered in his ruggedface, and, womanlike, admired him the more for his determination. 

They lingered in the garden discussing details, planning out the work, and arranging as to the different books to be overlooked until the teahour was passed, and Mrs Asplin came to the door and called to them tocome in. 

"And nothing on your feet but your thin slippers? Oh, you Peggy!" sheexclaimed in despair. "Now you will have a cold, and ten to one it willfly to your throat. I shall have to line you a penny every time youcross the doorstep without changing your shoes. Summer is over, remember. You can't be too careful in these raw, damp days. Runupstairs this minute and change your stockings. "

Peggy looked meek, and went to her room at once to obey orders; but themischief was done--she shivered, and could not get warm, her head ached, and her eyes felt heavy. Mrs Asplin looked anxiously at her in thedrawing-room after dinner, and finally called her to her side. 

"Peggy, come here! Aren't you well? Let me feel your hand. Child, it's like a coal! You are in a fever. Why didn't you tell me at once?"

"Because I--really, it's nothing, Mrs Asplin! Don't be worried. Idon't know why I feel so hot. I was shivering only a minute ago. "

"Go straight upstairs and take a dose of ammoniated quinine. Turn onthe fire in your room. Max! Robert! Oswald! Esther! Mellicent! willeveryone please look after Peggy in the future, and see that she doesnot run out in her slippers!" cried Mrs Asplin in a despairing voice;and Peggy bolted out of the door, in haste to escape before morereproaches could be hurled at her head. 

But an alarm of a more serious nature than a threatened cold was to takeplace before the evening was over. The young people answered briefly, Mrs Asplin turned back to her book, and silence settled down upon theoccupants of the drawing-room. It was half-past eight, the servants hadcarried away the dinner things, and were enjoying their evening's restin the kitchen. The vicar was nodding in his easy-chair, the house wasso quiet that the tick of the old grandfather clock in the hall could beheard through the half-opened door. Then suddenly came the sound offlying footsteps, the door burst open, and in rushed Peggy once more, --but such a Peggy, such an apparition of fear, suffering, and terror asbrought a cry of consternation from every lip. Her eyes were startingfrom her head, her face was contorted in spasmodic gaspings for breath, her arms sawed the air like the sails of a windmill, and she flew roundand round the room in a wild, unheeding rush. 

"Peggy, my child! my child! what is the matter? Oh, Austin--oh! Whatshall we do?" cried Mrs Asplin, trying to catch hold of the flyingarms, only to be waved off with frenzied energy. Mellicent dissolvedinto tears and retreated behind the sofa, under the impression thatPeggy had suddenly taken leave of her senses, and practical Estherrushed upstairs to search for a clue to the mystery among the medicinebellies on Peggy's table. She was absent only for a few minutes; but itseemed like an hour to the watchers, for Peggy's face grew more and moreagonised, she seemed on the verge of suffocation, and could neitherspeak nor endure anyone to approach within yards of her mad career. Presently, however, she began to falter, to draw her breath in longergasps, and as she did so there emerged from her lips a series of loudwhooping sounds, like the crowing of a cock, or the noise made by achild in the convulsions of whooping-cough. The air was making its wayto the lungs after the temporary stoppage, and the result would havebeen comical if any of the hearers had been in a mood for jesting, which, in good truth, they were not. 

"Thank Heaven! She will be better now. Open the window and leave heralone. Don't try to make her speak. What in the world has the childbeen doing?" cried the vicar wonderingly; and at that moment Estherentered, bearing in her hand the explanation of the mystery--a bottlelabelled "Spirits of Ammonia, " and a tumbler about an eighth full of awhite milky-looking fluid. 

"They were in the front of the table. The other things had not beenmoved. I believe she has never looked at the labels, but seized thefirst bottle that came to her hand--this dreadfully strong ammonia whichyou gave her for the gnat bites when she first came. "

A groan of assent came from the sofa on which Peggy lay, choking nolonger, but ghastly white, and drawing her breath in painful gasps. Mrs Asplin sniffed at the contents of the tumbler, only to jerk backher head with watery eyes and reddened lips. 

"No wonder that the child was nearly choked! The marvel is that she hadever regained her breath after such a mistake. Her throat must be raw!"She hurried out of the room to concoct a soothing draught, at whichPeggy supped at intervals during the evening, croaking out a hoarse, "Better, thank you!" in reply to inquiries, and looking so small andpathetic in her nest of cushions that the hearts of the beholderssoftened at the sight. Before bedtime, however, she revivedconsiderably, and, her elastic spirits coming to her aid, entertainedthe listeners with a husky but dramatic account of her proceedings. Howshe had not troubled to turn the gas full up, and had just seized thebottle, tilted some of the contents into a tumbler in which there was asmall portion of water, without troubling to measure it out, and gulpedit down without delay. Her description of the feelings which ensued wasa really clever piece of word-painting, but behind the pretence ofhorror at her own carelessness there rang a hardly concealed note ofpride, as though, in thus risking her life, she had done something quiteclever and distinguished. 

Mrs Asplin exhausted herself in "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" of sympathy, and hadnothing harsher to say than--

"Well now, dearie, you'll be more careful another time, won't you?" Butthe vicar's long face grew longer than ever as he listened, and thelines deepened in his forehead. Peggy was inexperienced indanger-signals, but Esther and Mellicent recognised the well-knownsigns, and were at no loss to understand the meaning of that quiet, "Aword with you in the study, Mariquita, if you please!" with which herose from the breakfast-table next morning. 

Peggy's throat was still sore, and she fondly imagined that anxiety onits behalf was the cause of the summons, but she was speedilyundeceived, for the vicar motioned towards a chair, and said, in shortgrave sentences, as his manner was when annoyed--

"I wish to speak to you about the event of last night; I am afraid thatyou hardly realise the matter in its true light. I was not at allpleased with the manner in which you gave your explanation. Youappeared to imagine that you had done something clever and amusing. Itake a very different view. You showed a reprehensible carelessness intrifling with medicines in the dark; it might have caused you your life, or, at best, a serious injury. As it was, you brought pain uponyourself, and gave us all a serious alarm. I see nothing amusing insuch behaviour, but consider it stupid, and careless to an almostcriminal extent. "

Peggy stood motionless, eyes cast down, hands clasped before her--apicture of injured innocence. She did not say a word in self-defence, but her feelings were so plainly written on her face that the vicar'seyes flashed with impatience. 

"Well, what have you to say?"

Peggy sighed in dolorous fashion. 

"I am sorry; I know it was careless. I am always doing things likethat. So is Arthur. So was father when he was a boy. It's in thefamily. It's unfortunate, but--"

"Mariquita, " said the vicar sternly, "you are _not_ sorry! If I hadseen that you were penitent, I should not have spoken, for you wouldhave been sufficiently punished by your own sufferings, but you are notsorry; you are, on the whole, rather proud of the escapade! Look intoyour own heart and see if it is not so?"

He paused, looking at her with grave, expectant eyes, but there was nosign of conviction upon the set face. The eyes were still lowered, thelips drooped with an expression of patient endurance. There was silencein the room while Peggy studied the carpet, and the vicar gazed at herdowncast face. A moment before he had been on the verge of anger, butthe sternness melted away in that silence, and gave place to an anxioustenderness. Here was a little human soul committed to his care--howcould he help? how best guide and train? The long, grave face grewbeautiful in that moment with the expression which it wore every Sundayas he gazed around the church at the beginning of the sermon, notingthis one and that, having a swift realisation of their needs andfailings, and breathing a prayer to God that He would give to his lipsthe right word, to his heart the right thought, to meet the needs of hispeople. Evidently, sternness and outspoken blame was not the best wayto touch the girl before him. He must try another mode. 

"Peggy, " he said quietly, "do you think you realise what a heavyresponsibility we laid upon ourselves when we undertook the care of youfor these three years? If any accident happened to you beneath ourroof, have you ever imagined what would be our misery and remorse atsending the news to your parents? About their feelings I do not speak;you can realise them for yourself. We safeguard you with everyprecaution in our power; we pray morning and night that you may bepreserved in safety; is it too much to ask that you will do your part byshowing more forethought, and by exercising some little care in thedaily duties of life? I ask it for our sakes as well as your own. "

A pink flush spread over Peggy's cheeks; she gulped nervously and raisedher eyes to the vicar's face. Twice her lips opened as if to speak, butthe natural reserve, which made it agony to her to express her deepestfeelings, closed them again before a word had been spoken. The questionwas not answered, but a little hand shot out and nestled in Mr Asplin'swith a spasmodic grip which was full of eloquence. 

"Yes, dear, I know you will! I know you will!" he said, answering theunspoken promise, and looking down at her with one of his sweet, kindlysmiles. "It will be a comfort to my wife as well as myself. She isvery nervous about you. She was upstairs three times in the night, tosatisfy herself that you were well after your fright, and is too tiredherself to come downstairs this morning. She is always bright andcheery, but she is not very strong. You would be sorry to make herill. "

No answer, only another grip of the hand, and a sudden straightening ofthe lips, as if they were pressed together to avoid an involuntarytrembling. There is something especially touching in the sight ofrestrained emotion; and as the vicar thought of his own two daughters, his heart was very tender over the girl whose parents were separatedfrom her by six thousand miles of land and sea. 

"Well now, dear, I have said my say, and that is an end of it. I don'tlike finding fault, but my dear wife has thrown that duty on myshoulders by being too tender-hearted to say a word of blame even whenit is needed. Her method works very well, as a rule, but there areoccasions when it would be criminal to withhold a just reprimand. " Thevicar stopped short, and a spasm of laughter crossed his face. Peggy'sfingers had twitched within his own as he spoke those last two words, and her eyes had dilated with interest. He knew as well as if he hadbeen told that she was gloating over the new expression, and mentallynoting it for future use. Nothing, however, could have been sweeter ormore natural than the manner in which she sidled against him, andmurmured--

"Thank you so much. I am sorry! I will truly try;" and he watched herout of the room with a smile of tender amusement. 

"A nice child--a good child--feels deeply. I can rely upon her to doher best. "

Robert was hanging about in the passage, ready, as usual, to fulfil hisvows of support, and Peggy slid her hand through his arm and saunteredslowly with him towards the schoolroom. Like the two girls, he had beenat no loss to understand the reason of the call to the study, and wouldfain have expressed his sympathy, but Peggy stopped him with upliftedfinger. 

"No, no--he was perfectly right. You must not blame him. I have beenguilty of reprehensible carelessness, and merited a reprimand!"

CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

JEALOUS THOUGHTS. 

Peggy felt weak and shaken for some days after her fright, and wasthankful to stay quietly indoors and busy herself with her new task. The gas-fire could be turned on in her room whenever she desired, and atevery spare moment she ran upstairs, locked her door behind her, andbegan to write. Robert insisted that the work should be kept secret, and that not a word should be said about the competition downstairs, forhe was sensitive about the remarks of his companions, and anxious tokeep a possible failure to himself. All the work had to be doneupstairs, therefore, and the frequent absence of the partners from theschoolroom, though much regretted, did not seem at all inexplicable tothe others. It was understood that Peggy and Robert had some interestin common; but as winter advanced this was no unusual occurrence in ahouse where Christmas was a carnival, and surprises of an elaboratenature were planned by every member of the household. It was taken forgranted that the work had some connection with Christmas, and inquirieswere discreetly avoided. 

With an old calendar before her as a model for the lettering, Peggy didher work neatly and well, and the gilt "arabesques" had an artisticflourish which was quite professional. When Robert was shown the firsthalf-dozen sheets he whistled with surprise, and exclaimed, "Good oldMariquita!" a burst of approval before which Peggy glowed with delight. It had been agreed that, after printing the first ten days of January, Peggy should go on to the first ten of February, and so on throughoutthe year, so that Rob should be able to use what quotations had alreadybeen found under each heading, and should not be detained until thewhole thirty or thirty-one had been chosen. 

The partners were most fastidious in their selection at the beginning oftheir work; but when half the time had passed, and not one-third of thenecessary number of quotations had been found, alarm seized upon thecamp, and it was realised that a little more latitude must be shown. 

"We shall have to use up all the old ones which we struck off the list, "said Rob disconsolately. "I'm sorry; but I never realised before thatthree hundred and sixty-five was such an outrageously large number. Andwe shall have to get books of extracts, and read them through frombeginning to end. Nearly two hundred more to find; a hundred and fifty, say, when we have used up those old ones! It will take us all ourtime!"

"I'll get up at six every morning and read by my fire, " said Peggyfirmly. "If it's necessary, I'll get up at five, and if I can't findbits to suit all the stupid old things, I'll--I'll write some myself!There! Why shouldn't I? I often make up things in my head, and youwouldn't believe how fine they are. I think of them days afterwards, and ask myself, `Now where did I read that?' and then it comes back tome. `Dear me; I made it up myself!' If we get very short, Rob, therewouldn't be any harm in writing a few sentences and signing them`Saville, ' would there?"

"Not if they were good enough, " said Rob, trying to suppress the laughwhich would have hurt Peggy's feelings, and looking with twinkling eyesat the little figure by his side, so comically unprofessional, with herlace collar, dainty little feet, and pigtail of dark brown hair. 

"You mustn't get up too early in the morning and overtire yourself. Ican't allow that!" he added firmly. "You have looked like a littlewhite ghost the last few days, and your face is about the size of myhand. You must get some colour into your cheeks before the holidays, orthat beloved Arthur will think we have been ill-treating you when hecomes down. "

Peggy gave a sharp sigh, and relapsed into silence. It was the rarestthing in the world to hear her allude to any of her own people. When aletter arrived, and Mrs Asplin asked questions concerning father, mother, or brother, she answered readily enough, but she never offeredinformation, or voluntarily carried on the conversation. Friends lesssympathetic might have imagined that she was so happy in her new homethat she had no care beyond it, but no one in the vicarage made thatmistake. When the Indian letter was handed to her across thebreakfast-table, the flush of delight on the pale cheeks brought areflected smile to every face, and more than one pair of eyes watchedher tenderly as she sat hugging the precious letter, waiting until themoment should come when she could rush upstairs and devour its contentsin her own room. Once it had happened that mail day had arrived andbrought no letter, and that had been a melancholy occasion. Mrs Asplinhad looked at one envelope after another, had read the addresses twice, thrice, even four times over, before she summoned courage to tell of itsabsence. 

"There is no letter for you to-day, Peggy!" Her voice was full ofcommiseration as she spoke, but Peggy sat in silence, her facestiffened, her head thrown back with an assumption of calm indifference. "There must have been some delay in the mail. You will have twoletters next week, dearie, instead of one. "

"Probably, " said Peggy. Mellicent was staring at her with big, roundeyes; the vicar peered over the rim of his spectacles; Esther passed themarmalade with eager solicitude; her friends were all full of sympathy, but there was a "Touch-me-if-you-dare!" atmosphere about Peggy that daywhich silenced the words on their lips. It was evident that shepreferred to be left alone, and though her eyes were red when she camedown to lunch, she held her chin so high, and joined in the conversationwith such an elegant flow of language, that no one dare comment on thefact. Two days later the letter arrived, and all was sunshine again;but, in spite of her cheery spirits, her friends realised that Peggy'sheart was not in the vicarage, and that there were moments when theloneliness of her position pressed on her, and when she longed intenselyfor someone of her very own, whose place could not be taken by even thekindest of friends. 

Like most undemonstrative people, Peggy dearly loved to be appreciated, and to receive marks of favour from those around. Half the zest withwhich she entered into her new labour was owing to the fact that Roberthad chosen her from all the rest to be his partner. She was aglow withsatisfaction in this fact, and with pleasure in the work itself, and theonly cloud which darkened her horizon at the present moment was causedby those incidental references to the fair Rosalind which fell so oftenfrom her companions' lips. 

"Everything, " said Peggy impatiently to herself, "everything ends inRosalind! Whatever we are talking about, that stupid girl's name isbound to be introduced! I asked Mellicent if she would have a scone attea this afternoon, and she said something about Rosalind in reply--Rosalind liked scones, or she didn't like scones, or some ridiculousnonsense of the sort! Who wants to know what Rosalind likes? I don't!I'm sick of the name! And Mrs Asplin is as silly as the rest! Thegirls must have new dresses because Rosalind is coming, and they will beasked to tea at the Larches! If their green dresses are good enough forus, why won't they do for Rosalind, I should like to know? Rob is theonly sensible one. I asked him if she were really such a marvellouscreature, and he said she was an affected goose! He ought to knowbetter than anyone else! Curls indeed! One would think it wassomething extraordinary to have curls! My hair would curl too, if Ichose to make it, but I don't; I prefer to have it straight! If she isthe `Honourable Rosalind, ' I am Mariquita Saville, and I'm not going tobe patronised by anybody--so there!" and Peggy tossed her head, andglared at the reflection in the glass in a lofty and scornful manner, asthough it were the offending party who had had the audacity to assumesuperiority. 

Robert was one with Peggy in hoping that his people would not leave townuntil such time as the calendar should be despatched on its travels, forwhen they were installed at the Larches he was expected to be at homeeach week from Saturday until Monday, and the loss of that long holidayafternoon would interfere seriously with the work on hand. He had seenso little of his people for the last few years, that he would beexpected to be sociable during the short time that he was with them, andcould hardly shut himself up in his room for hours at a time. Despairthen settled down upon both partners, when a letter arrived to say thatthe Darcy family were coming down even earlier than had been expected, and summoning Robert to join them at the earliest possible moment. 

"This is awful!" cried the lad, ruffling his hair with a big, restlesshand. "I know what it means--not only Saturdays off, but two or threenights during the week into the bargain! Between you and me, Mariquita, the governor is coming down here to economise, and intends to stay muchlonger than usual. Hector has been getting into debt again; he's theeldest, you know--the one in the Life Guards. It's a lot too bad, forhe has had it all his own way so far, and when he runs up bills likethis, everyone has to suffer for it. Mother hates the country for morethan a few weeks at a time, and will be wretched if she is kept here allthrough the winter. I know how it will be: she will keep asking peopledown, and getting up all sorts of entertainments to relieve the dulness. It's all very well in its way, but just now when I need every minute--"

"Shall you give up trying for the prize?" asked Peggy faintly, and Robthrew back his head with emphatic disclaimer. 

"I never give up a thing when I have made up my mind to do it! Thereare ten days still, and a great deal can be done in ten days. I'll takea couple of books upstairs with me every night, and see if I can findsomething fresh. There is one good thing about it, I shall have a freshstock of books to choose from at the Larches. It is the last step thatcosts in this case. It was easy enough to fix off the first hundred, but the last is a teaser!"

On Saturday morning a dogcart came over to convey Robert to the Larches, and the atmosphere of the vicarage seemed charged with expectation andexcitement. The Darcys had arrived; to-morrow they would appear atchurch; on Monday they would probably drive over with Rob and pay acall. These were all important facts in a quiet country life, andseemed to afford unlimited satisfaction to every member of thehousehold. Peggy grew so tired of the name of Darcy that she retired toher room at eight o'clock, and was busy at work over the September batchof cards, when a knock came to the door, and she had to cover them overwith the blotting-paper to admit Mellicent in her dressing-gown, withher hair arranged for the night in an extraordinary number of littleplaited pigtails. 

"Will you fasten the ends for me, Peggy, please?" she requested. "WhenI do it, the threads fall off, and the ends come loose. I want it to bespecially nice for to-morrow!"

"But it will look simply awful, Mellicent, if you leave it like this. It will be frizzed out almost on a level with your head. Let me do itup in just two tight plaits; it will be far, far nicer, " urged Peggy, lifting one little tail after another, and counting their number indismay. But no, Mellicent would not be persuaded. The extra plaitswere a tribute to Rosalind, a mark of attention to her on her arrivalwith which she would suffer no interference; and as a consequence of herstubbornness she marched to church next morning disfigured by a mop ofuntidy, tangled hair, instead of the usual glossy locks. 

Peggy preserved a demeanour of stately calm, as she waited for thearrival of the Darcy family, but even she felt a tremor of excitementwhen the verger hobbled up to the square pew and stood holding the dooropen in his hand. The heads of the villagers turned with one consent tothe doorway; only one person in the church disdained to move herposition, but she heard the clatter of horses' hoofs from without, andpresently the little procession passed the vicarage pew, and she couldindulge her curiosity without sacrifice to pride. First of all cameLord Darcy, a thin, oldish man, with a face that looked tired and kind, and faintly amused by the amount of attention which his entrance hadattracted. Then his wife, a tall, fair woman, with a beautiful profile, and an air of languid discontent, who floated past with rustling silkenskirts, leaving an impression of elegance and luxury, which made MrsAsplin sigh and Mellicent draw in her breath with a gasp of rapture. Then followed Robert with his shaggy head, scowling more fiercely thanever in his disgust at finding himself an object of attention, and lastof all a girlish figure in a grey dress, with a collar of soft, fluffychinchilla, and a velvet hat with drooping brim, beneath which could beseen a glimpse of a face pink and white as the blossoms of spring, and amass of shining, golden hair. Peggy shut her lips with a snap, and theiron entered into her soul. It was no use pretending any longer! Thiswas Rosalind, and she was fairer, sweeter, a hundred times morebeautiful than she had ever imagined!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

ROSALIND'S VISIT. 

Robert did not make his appearance next morning, and his absence seemedto give fresh ground for the expectation that Lady Darcy would driveover with him in the afternoon and pay a call at the vicarage. 

Mrs Asplin gathered what branches of russet leaves still remained inthe garden and placed them in bowls in the drawing-room, with a fewprecious chrysanthemums peeping out here and there; laid out her verybest tea-cloth and d'oyleys, and sent the girls upstairs to change theirwell-worn school dresses for something fresher and smarter. 

"And you, Peggy dear--you will put on your pretty red, of course!" shesaid, standing still, with a bundle of branches in her arms, and lookingwith a kindly glance at the pale face, which had somehow lost its sunnyexpression during the last two days. 

Peggy hesitated and pursed up her lips. 

"Why `of course, ' Mrs Asplin? I never change my dress until evening. Why need I do it to-day, just because some strangers may call whom Ihave never seen before?"

It was the first time that the girl had objected to do what she wastold, and Mrs Asplin was both surprised and hurt by the tone in whichshe spoke--a good deal puzzled too, for Peggy was by no meansindifferent to pretty frocks, and as a rule fond of inventing excuses towear her best clothes. Why, then, should she choose this afternoon ofall others to refuse so simple a request? Just for a moment she felttempted to make a sharp reply, and then tenderness for the girl whosemother was so far-away took the place of the passing irritation, and shedetermined to try a gentler method. 

"There is not the slightest necessity, dear, " she said quietly. "Iasked only because the red dress suits you so well, and it would havebeen a pleasure to me to see you looking your best. But you are verynice and neat as you are. You need not change unless you like. "

She turned to leave the room as she finished speaking; but before shehad reached the door Peggy was by her side, holding out her hands totake possession of twigs and branches. 

"Let me take them to the kitchen, please! Let me help you!" she saidquickly, and just for a moment a little hand rested on her arm with aspasmodic pressure. That was all; but it was enough. There was no needof a formal apology. Mrs Asplin understood all the unspoken love andpenitence which was expressed in that simple action, and beamed with herbrightest smile. 

"Thank you, my lassie, please do! I'm glad to avoid going near thekitchen again, for when cook once gets hold of me I can never get away. She tells me the family history of all her relatives, and indeed it'svery depressing, it is, " (with a relapse into her merry Irish accent), "for they are subject to the most terrible afflictions! I've had onedose of it to-day, and I don't want another!"

Peggy laughed, and carried off her bundle, lingered in the kitchen justlong enough to remind the cook that "apple charlotte served with cream"was a seasonable pudding at the fall of the year, and then went upstairsto put on the red dress, and relieve her feelings by making grimaces atherself in the glass as she fastened the buttons. 

At four o'clock the patter of horses' feet came from below, doors openedand shut, and there was a sound of voices in the hall. The visitors hadarrived!

Peggy pressed her lips together, and bent doggedly over her writing. She had not progressed with her work as well as she had hoped duringRob's absence, for her thoughts had been running on other subjects, andshe had made mistake after mistake. She must try to finish one batch atleast, to show him on his return. Unless she was especially sent for, she would not go downstairs; but before ten minutes had passed, Mellicent was tapping at the door and whispering eager sentences throughthe keyhole. 

"Peggy, quick! They've come! Rosalind's here! You're to come down!Quick! Hurry up!"

"All right, my dear, keep calm! You will have a fit if you exciteyourself like this!" said Peggy coolly. 

The summons had come, and could not be disregarded, and on the whole shewas not sorry. The meeting was bound to take place sooner or later, and, in spite of her affectation of indifference, she was reallyconsumed with curiosity to know what Rosalind was like. She had nointention of hurrying, however, but lingered over the arrangement of herpapers until Mellicent had trotted downstairs again, and the coast wasclear. Then she sauntered after her with leisurely dignity, opened thedrawing-room door, and gave a swift glance round. 

Lady Darcy sat talking to Mrs Asplin a few yards away, in such aposition that she faced the doorway. She looked up as Peggy entered, and swept her eyes curiously over the girl's figure. She looked olderthan she had done from across the church the day before, and her facehad a bored expression, but, if possible, she was even more elegant inher attire. It seemed quite extraordinary to see such a fine ladysitting on that well-worn sofa, instead of the sober figure of thevicar's wife. 

Peggy flashed a look from one to the other--from the silk dress to theserge, from the beautiful weary face to the cheery loving smile--andcame to the conclusion that, for some mysterious reason, Mrs Asplin wasa happier woman than the wife of the great Lord Darcy. 

The two ladies stopped talking and looked expectantly towards her. 

"Come in, dear! This is our new pupil, Lady Darcy, for whom you wereasking. You have heard of her--"

"From Robert. Oh yes, frequently! I was especially anxious to seeRobert's little friend. How do you do, dear? Let me see! What is yourfunny little name? Molly--Dolly--something like that, I think--I forgetfor the moment?"

"Mariquita Saville!" quoth Peggy grandiloquently. She was consumed withregret that she had no second name to add to the number of syllables, but she did her best with those she possessed, rolling them out in hervery best manner and with a stately condescension which made Lady Darcysmile for the first time since she entered the room. 

"Oh-h!" The lips parted to show a gleam of regular white teeth. "That's it, is it? Well, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mariquita. I hope we shall see a great deal of you while we are here. You must go and make friends with Rosalind--my daughter. She is longingto know you. "

"Yes, go and make friends with Rosalind, Peggy dear! She was asking foryou, " said Mrs Asplin kindly; and as the girl walked away the twoladies exchanged smiling glances. 

"Amusing! Such grand little manners! Evidently a character. "

"Oh, quite! Peggy is nothing if not original. She is a dear, goodgirl, but quite too funny in her ways. She is really the incarnation ofmischief, and keeps me on tenter-hooks from morning until night, butfrom her manner you would think she was a model of propriety. Nothingdelights her so much as to get hold of a new word or a high-soundingphrase. "

"But what a relief to have someone out of the ordinary run! There areso many bores in the world, it is quite refreshing to meet with a littleoriginality. Dear Mrs Asplin, you really must tell me how you manageto look so happy and cheerful in this dead-alive place? I am desolateat the idea of staying here all winter. What in the world do you findto do?"

Mrs Asplin laughed. 

"Indeed, that's not the trouble at all; the question is how to find timeto get through the day's duties! It's a rush from morning till night, and when evening comes I am delighted to settle down in an easy-chairwith a nice book to read. One has no chance of feeling dull in a housefull of young people. "

"Ah, you are so good and clever, you get through so much. I want to askyour help in half a dozen ways. If we are to settle down here for somemonths, there are so many arrangements to make. Now tell me, what wouldyou do in this case?" The two ladies settled down to a discussion ondomestic matters, while Peggy crossed the room to the corner whereRosalind Darcy sat in state, holding her court with Esther and Mellicentas attendant slaves. She wore the same grey dress in which she hadappeared in church the day before, but the jacket was thrown open, anddisplayed a distractingly dainty blouse, all pink chiffon, and frills, and ruffles of lace. Her gloves lay in her lap, and the celebrateddiamond ring flashed in the firelight as she held out her hand to meetPeggy's. 

"How do you do? So glad to see you! I've heard of you often. You arethe little girl who is my bwothar's fwiend. " She pronounced the letter"r" as if it had been "w, " and the "er" in brother as if it had been"ah, " and spoke with a languid society drawl more befitting a woman ofthirty than a schoolgirl of fifteen. 

Peggy stood motionless and looked her over, from the crown of her hat tothe tip of the little trim shoe, with an expression of icy displeasure. 

"Oh dear me, no, " she said quietly, "you mistake the situation. You putit the wrong way about. Your brother is the big boy whom I have allowedto become a friend of mine!"

Esther and Mellicent gasped with amazement, while Rosalind gave a trillof laughter, and threw up her pretty white hands. 

"She's wexed!" she cried. "She's wexed, because I called her little!I'm wewwy sowwy, but I weally can't help it, don't you know. It's thetwuth! You are a whole head smaller than I am. " She threw back herchin, and looked over Peggy's head with a smile of triumph. "There, look at that, and I'm not a year older. I call you wewwy small indeedfor your age. "

"I'm thankful to hear it! I admire small women, " said Peggy promptly, seating herself on a corner of the window-seat, and staring criticallyat the tall figure of the visitor. She would have been delighted if shecould have persuaded herself that her height was awkward and ungainly, but such an effort was beyond imagination. Rosalind was startlingly andwonderfully pretty; she had never seen anyone in real life who was inthe least like her. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue, with curling darklashes, her face was a delicate oval, and the pink and white colouring, and flowing golden locks, gave her the appearance of a princess in afairy tale rather than an ordinary flesh-and-blood maiden. Peggy lookedfrom her to Mellicent, who was considered quite a beauty among hercompanions, and, oh dear me! how plain, and fat, and prosaic sheappeared when viewed side by side with this radiant vision! Estherstood the comparison better, for, though her long face had nopretensions to beauty, it was thoughtful and interesting in expression. There was no question which was most charming to look at; but if it hadcome to choice of a companion, an intelligent observer would certainlyhave decided in favour of the vicar's daughter. Esther's face wasparticularly grave at this moment, and her eyes met Peggy's with areproachful glance. What was the matter with the girl this afternoon?Why did she take up everything that Rosalind said in that hasty, cantankerous manner? Here was an annoying thing--to have just given anenthusiastic account of the brightness and amicability of a newcompanion, and then to have that companion come into the room only tomake snappish remarks, and look as cross and ill-natured as a bear! Sheturned in an apologetic fashion to Rosalind, and tried to resume theconversation at the point where it had been interrupted by Peggy'sentrance. 

"And I was saying, we have ever so many new things to show you--presents, you know, and things of that kind. The last is the nicest ofall: a really good big camera with which we can take proper photographs. Mrs Saville--Peggy's mother--gave it to us before she left. It was apresent to the schoolroom, so it belongs equally to us all, and we havesuch fun with it. We are beginning to do some good things now, but atfirst they were too funny for anything. There is one of father wherehis boots are twice as large as his head, and another of mother whereher face has run, and is about a yard long, and yet it is so like her!We laughed till we cried over it, and father has locked it away in hisdesk. He says he will keep it to look at when he is low-spirited. "

Rosalind gave a shrug to her shapely shoulders. 

"It would not cheer me up to see a cawicature of myself! I don't thinkI shall sit to you for my portrait, if that is the sort of thing you do, but you shall show me all your failures. It will amuse me. You willhave to come up and see me vewwy often this winter, for I shall be sodull. We have been abroad for the last four years, and England seems sodark and dweawy. Last winter we were at Cairo. We lived in a bighotel, and there was something going on almost every night. I was notout, of course, but I was allowed to go into the room for an hour afterdinner, and to dance with the gentlemen in mother's set. And we went upthe Nile in a steamer, and dwove about every afternoon, paying calls, and shopping in the bazaars. It never rains in Cairo, and the sun isalways shining. It seems so wonderful! Just like a place in a fairytale. " She looked at Peggy as she spoke, and that young person smiledwith an air of elegant condescension. 

"It would do so to you. Naturally it would. When one has been born inthe East, and lived there the greater part of one's life, it seemsnatural enough, but the trippers from England who just come out for afew months' visit are always astonished. It used to amuse us so much tohear their remarks!"

Rosalind stared, and flushed with displeasure. She was accustomed tohave her remarks treated with respect, and the tone of superiority was anew and unpleasing experience. 

"You were born in the East?"

"Certainly I was!"

"Where, may I ask?"

"In India--in Calcutta, where my father's regiment was stationed. "

"You lived there till you were quite big? You can remember all aboutit?"

"All I want to remember. There was a great deal that I choose toforget. I don't care for India. England is more congenial to myfeelings. "

"And can you speak the language? Did you learn Hindostanee while youwere there?"

"Naturally. Of course I did. "

A gasp of amazement came from the two girls in the window, for aknowledge of Hindostanee had never been included in the list of Peggy'saccomplishments, and she was not accustomed to hide her light under abushel. They gazed at her with widened eyes, and Rosalind scentedscepticism in the air, and cried quickly--

"Say something, then. If you can speak, say something now, and let ushear you. "

"Pardon me!" said Peggy, simpering. "As a matter of fact, I was senthome because I was learning to speak too well. The language of thenatives is not considered suitable for English children of tender age. I must ask you to be so kind as to excuse me. I should be sorry toshock your sensibilities. "

Rosalind drew her brows together and stared steadily in the speaker'sface. Like many beautiful people, she was not over-gifted with a senseof humour, and therefore Peggy's grandiose manner and high-soundingwords failed to amuse her as they did most strangers. She felt onlyannoyed and puzzled, dimly conscious that she was being laughed at, andthat this girl with the small face and the peaked eyebrows was trying topatronise her--Rosalind Darcy--instead of following the vicar'sdaughters in adoring her from a respectful distance, as of course it washer duty to do. She had been anxious to meet the Peggy Saville of whomher brother had spoken so enthusiastically, for it was a new thing tohear Rob praise a girl, but it was evident that Peggy on her side was byno means eager to make her acquaintance. It was an extraordinarydiscovery, and most disconcerting to the feelings of one who wasaccustomed to be treated as a person of supreme importance. Rosalindcould hardly speak for mortification, and it was an immense relief whenthe door opened, and Max and Oswald hurried forward to greet her. Thenindeed she was in her element, beaming with smiles, and indulging adozen pretty little tricks of manner for the benefit of their admiringeyes. Max took possession of the chair by her side, his face lighted upwith pleasure and admiration. He was too thoroughly natural and healthya lad to be much troubled with sentiment, but ever since one wintermorning five years before, when Rosalind had first appeared in thelittle country church, she had been his ideal of all that was womanlyand beautiful. At every meeting he discovered fresh charms, and to-daywas no exception to the rule. She was taller, fairer, more elegant. In_some_ mysterious manner she seemed to have grown older than he, sothat, though he was in reality three years her senior, he was still aboy, while she was almost a young lady. 

Mrs Asplin looked across the room, and a little anxious furrow showedin her forehead. Maxwell's admiration for Rosalind was already an oldstory, and as she saw his eager face and sparkling eyes, a pang of fearcame into his mother's heart. If the Darcys were constantly coming downto the Larches, it was only natural to suppose that this admirationwould increase, and it would never do for Max to fall in love withRosalind! The vicar's son would be no match for Lord Darcy's daughter;it would only mean a heartache for the poor lad, a clouded horizon justwhen life should be the brightest. For a moment a prevision of troublefilled her heart, then she waved it away in her cheery, hopefulfashion--

"Why, what a goose I am! They are only children. Time enough to worrymy head about love affairs in half a dozen years to come. The lad wouldbe a Stoic if he didn't admire her. I don't see how he could help it!"

"Rosalind is lovelier than ever, Lady Darcy, if that is possible!" shesaid aloud, and her companion's face brightened with pleasure. 

"Oh, do you think so?" she cried eagerly. "I am so glad to hear it, forthis growing stage is so trying. I was afraid she might outgrow herstrength and lose her complexion, but so far I don't think it hassuffered. I am very careful of her diet, and my maid understands allthe new skin treatments. So much depends on a girl's complexion. Inotice your youngest daughter has a very good colour. May I ask whatyou use?"

"Soap and water, fresh air, good plain food, --those are the onlycosmetics we use in this house, " said Mrs Asplin, laughing outright atthe idea of Mellicent's healthy bloom being the result of "skintreatment. " "I am afraid I have too much to do looking after thenecessities of life for my girls, Lady Darcy, to worry myself abouttheir complexions. "

"Oh yes. Well, I'm sure they both look charming; but Rosalind will gomuch into society, and of course, "--She checked herself before thesentence was finished; but Mrs Asplin was quick enough to understandthe imputation that the complexions of a vicar's daughters were but ofsmall account, but that it was a very different matter when theHonourable Rosalind Darcy was concerned. She understood, but she wasneither hurt nor annoyed by the inferences, only a little sad and very, very pitiful. She knew the story of the speaker's life, and the reasonwhy she looked forward to Rosalind's entrance into society with suchambition. Lady Darcy had been the daughter of poor but well-bornparents, and had married the widower, Lord Darcy, not because she lovedhim or had any motherly feeling for his two orphan boys, but simply andsolely for a title and establishment, and a purse full of money. Giventhese, she had fondly imagined that she was going to be perfectly happy. No more screwing and scraping to keep up appearances; no more living indulness and obscurity; she would be Lady Darcy, the beautiful young wifeof a famous man. So, with no thought in her heart but for her ownworldly advancement, Beatrice Fairfax stood before God's altar and vowedto love, honour, and obey a man for whom she had no scrap of affection, and whom she would have laughed to scorn if he had been poor andfriendless. She married him, but the life which followed was not by anymeans all that she had expected. Lord Darcy had heavy money losses, which obliged him to curtail expenses almost immediately after hiswedding; her own health broke down, and it was a knife in her heart toknow that her boy was only the third son, and that the two big, handsomelads at Eton would inherit the lion's share of their father's property. Hector, the Lifeguardsman, and Oscar, the Dragoon, were for ever runninginto debt and making fresh demands on her husband's purse. She and herchildren had to suffer for their extravagances; while Robert, her onlyson, was growing up a shy, awkward lad, who hated society, and askednothing better than to be left in the country alone with his frogs andhis beetles. Ambition after ambition had failed her, until now all herhopes were centred in Rosalind, the beautiful daughter, in whom she sawa reproduction of herself in the days of her girlhood. She had had adull and obscure youth; Rosalind should be the belle of society. Herown marriage had been a disappointment; Rosalind should make a brilliantalliance. She had failed to gain the prize for which she had worked;she would live again in Rosalind's triumphs, and in them find fullestsatisfaction. 

So Lady Darcy gloated over every detail of her daughter's beauty, andthought day and night of her hair, her complexion, her figure, strivingstill to satisfy her poor tired soul with promises of future success, and never dreaming for a moment that the prize which seemed to elude hergrasp had been gained long ago by the vicar's wife, with herold-fashioned dress and work-worn hands. But Mrs Asplin knew, andthanked God in her heart for the sweetness and peace of her dear, shabbyhome; for the husband who loved her, and the children whom they weretraining to be good servants for Him in the world Yes, and for thatother child too, who had been taken away at the very dawn of hismanhood, and who, they believed, was doing still better work in theunseen world. 

Until Lady Darcy discovered that the only true happiness rose fromsomething deeper than worldly success, there was nothing in store forher but fresh disappointments and heart-hunger; while as for Rosalind, the unfortunate child of such a mother--Mrs Asplin looked at the girlas she sat leaning back in her chair, craning her throat, and showingoff all her little airs and graces for the benefit of the two admiringschoolboys, gratified vanity and self-love showing on every line of herface. 

"It seems almost cruel to say so, " she sighed to herself, "but it wouldbe the best thing that could happen to the child if she were to losesome of her beauty before she grew up. Such a face as that is aterrible temptation to vanity. " But Mrs Asplin did not guess how soonthese unspoken words would come back to her memory, or what bitter causeshe would have to regret their fulfilment. 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

A PINK LUNCHEON. 

For the next week conversation was more strictly centred on Rosalindthan ever, and the gloomy expression deepened on Peggy's face. She was, in truth, working too hard for her strength, for, as each day passed, the necessity of hurrying on with the calendar became more apparent; andas Robert was no longer master of his own time, she was obliged to cometo his aid in writing out the selected quotations. 

At every spare moment of the day she was locked in her room, scribblingaway for dear life or searching for appropriate extracts, and, as aconsequence, her brain refused to rest when she wished it to do so. Shetossed wakefully on her pillow, and was often most inclined for sleepwhen six o'clock struck, and she dragged herself up, a white-cheeked, weary little mortal, to sit blinking over the fire, wishing feebly thatit was time to go to bed again, instead of getting up to face the long, long day. 

Robert was not more observant than most boys of his age, and Peggy wouldhave worked herself to death before she had complained to him. She wasproud to feel that he depended on her more than ever, that without herhelp he could not possibly have finished his task, while his words ofgratitude helped to comfort a heart which was feeling sore and empty. 

In truth, these last few weeks had been harder for Peggy than thoseimmediately following her mother's departure. Then each one in thehouse had vied with the other in trying to comfort her, whereas now, without any intention of unkindness, her companions often appeared to beneglectful. 

When Rosalind was present Esther hung on one arm and Mellicent on theother, without so much as a glance over the shoulder to see if Peggywere following. Instead of a constant "Peggy, what would you like?"

"What does Peggy say?" her opinion was never even asked, whileRosalind's lightest word was treated as law. 

It would have been hard for any girl under the circumstances, but it wasdoubly hard when that girl was so dependent on her friends, and sosensitive and reserved in disposition as Peggy Saville. She would notdeign to complain or to ask for signs of affection which were notvoluntarily given, but her merry ways disappeared, and she became sosilent and subdued that she was hardly recognisable as the audaciousPeggy of a few weeks earlier. 

"Peggy's so grumpy, " Mellicent complained to her mother. "She neverlaughs now, nor makes jokes, nor flies about as she used to do! She'sjust as glum and mum as can be, and she never sits with us! She isalways in her bedroom with the door locked, so that we can't get in!She's there now! I think she might stay with us sometimes! It's mean, always running away!"

Mrs Asplin drew her brows together and looked worried. She had notbeen satisfied about Peggy lately, and this news did not tend toreassure her. Her kind heart could not endure that anyone beneath herroof should be ill or unhappy, and the girl had looked both during thelast few days. She went upstairs at once and tapped at the door, whenPeggy's voice was raised in impatient answer. 

"I can't come! Go away! I'm engaged!"

"But I want to speak to you, dear! Please let me in!" she replied inher clear, pleasant tones; whereupon there was a hasty scamper inside, and the door was thrown open. 

"Oh-h! I didn't know it was you; I thought it was one of the girls. I'm sorry I kept you waiting. "

Mrs Asplin gave a glance around. The gas-fire was lit, but the chairbeside it stood stiffly in the corner, and the cushion was uncrushed. Evidently, the girl had not been sitting there. The work-basket was inits accustomed place, and there were no cottons or silks lying about--Peggy had not been sewing at Christmas presents, as she had half hopedto find her. A towel was thrown over the writing-table, and a piece ofblotting-paper lay on the floor. A chair was pushed to one side, as ifit had been lately used. That looked as if she had been writingletters. 

"Peggy dear, what are you doing all by yourself in this chilly room?"

"I'm busy, Mrs Asplin. I lit the fire as soon as I came in. "

"But a room does not get warm in five minutes. I don't want you tocatch cold and be laid up with a sore throat. Can't you bring yourwriting downstairs and do it beside the others?"

"I would rather not. I can get on so much better by myself. "

"Are you writing to India--to your mother?"

"N-no, not just now. "

"Then really, dear, you must come downstairs! This won't do! Yourmother wished you to have a fire in your room, so that you might be ableto sit here when you wanted to be alone, but she never meant you to makeit a habit, or to spend all your spare time alone. It isn't healthy touse a room night and day, and to burn so much gas, and it isn'tsociable, Peggy dear. Mellicent has just been complaining that you arehardly ever with them nowadays. Come along, like a good girl; put thewriting away and amuse yourself downstairs. You have done enough workfor one day. You don't do me credit with those white cheeks. "

Peggy stood with her eyes fixed on the carpet without uttering a word. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to say, "Oh, do let mestay upstairs as much as I like for a day or two longer. I have a pieceof work on hand which I am anxious to finish. It is a secret, but Ihope to tell you all about it soon, and I am sure you will be pleased. "If she had done so, she knew perfectly well how hearty and pleasantwould have been Mrs Asplin's consent; but there are some states of mindin which it is a positive pleasure to be a martyr, and to feel oneselfmisunderstood, and this was just the mood in which Peggy found herselfat present. She heard Mrs Asplin sigh, as if with anxiety anddisappointment, as she left the room, and shrugged her shoulders inwilful indifference. 

"She thinks I like sitting shivering here! I slave, and slave, frommorning till night, and then people think I am sulky! I am not workingfor myself. I don't want the wretched old ten pounds; I could have tenpounds to-morrow if I needed it. Mother said I could. I am working tohelp Rob, and now I shall have to sit up later, and get up earlier thanever, as I mayn't work during the day. Mellicent said I was never withthem, did she! I don't see that it matters whether I am there or not!They don't want me; nobody wants me, now that Rosalind has come! I hateRosalind--nasty, smirking, conceited thing!" and Peggy jerked the toweloff the writing-table and flicked it violently to and fro in the air, just as a little relief to her overcharged feelings. 

She was crossing the hall with unwilling steps when the postman's knocksounded at the door, and three letters in long, narrow envelopes fell tothe ground. Each envelope was of a pale pink tint, with a crest andmonogram in white relief; one was addressed to the Misses Asplin, another to Oswald Elliston, and a third to Miss Mariquita Saville. 

"Invitations!" cried Peggy, with a caper of delight. "Invitations! Howscrumptious!" Her face clouded for a moment as the sight of the letters"R. D. " suggested the sender of the letters; but the natural girlishdelight in an unexpected festivity was stronger even than herprejudices, and it was the old, bright Peggy who bounced into theschoolroom holding up the three letters, and crying gleefully, "_Quis, Quis_, something nice for somebody! An invitation!"

"_Ego, Ego_!" came the eager replies, and the envelopes were seized andtorn open in breathless haste. 

"From Rosalind! Oh, how funny! `Requests the pleasure--company--to apink luncheon. ' What in the world is a `pink luncheon'?--`on Tuesdaynext, the 20th inst. '"

"A p-p-pink luncheon? How wewwy stwange!" echoed Mellicent, who hadbeen suddenly affected with an incapacity to pronounce the letter "r"since the arrival of Rosalind Darcy on the scene--a peculiarity whichhappened regularly every autumn, and passed off again with the advent ofspring. "How can a luncheon possibly be pink?"

"That's more than I can tell you, my dear! Ask Rob. What does it mean, Rob?" asked Peggy curiously; and Robert scowled, and shook back hisshock of hair. 

"Some American fad, I believe. The idea is to have everything of onecolour--flowers, drapery, and food, china--everything that is on thetable. It's a fag and an awful handicap, for you can't have half thethings you want. But let us be modern or die--that's the mottonowadays. Mother is always trying to get hold of new-fangled notions. "

"`Peggy Saville requests the pleasure of Jane Smith's company to amagenta supper. '--`Peggy Saville requests the pleasure of Mr Jones'scompany to a purple tea. ' It's a splendid idea! I like it immensely, "said Peggy, pursing her lips, and staring in the fire in meditativefashion. "Pink--pink--what can we eat that is pink? P-prawns, p-pickles, p-p-pomegranates, P-aysandu tongues (you would call thosepink, wouldn't you--pinky red?) Humph! I don't think it sounds verynice. Perhaps they dye the things with cochineal. I think I shall havea sensible brown and green meal before I go, and then I can nibbleelegantly at the pinkies. Would it be considered a delicate mark ofattention if I wore a pink frock?"

"Certainly it would. Wear that nice one that you put on in theevenings. Rosalind will be in pink from head to foot, you may depend onit, " said Robert confidently; whereupon Mellicent rushed headlong fromthe room to find her mother, and plead eagerly that summer crepondresses of the desired tint should be brought forth from theirhiding-place and freshened up for the occasion. To accede to thisrequest meant an extra call upon time already fully occupied, butmothers have a way of not grudging trouble where their children areconcerned. Mrs Asplin said, "Yes, darling, of course I will!" and setto work with such goodwill that all three girls sported pink dressesbeneath their ulsters when they set off to partake of the mysteriousluncheon, a few days later. 

Rosalind came to the bedroom to receive them, and looked on from anarm-chair, while Lady Darcy's maid helped the visitors to take off theirwraps. She herself looked like a rose in her dainty pink draperies, andPeggy had an impression that she was not altogether pleased to see thather guests were as appropriately dressed as herself. She eyed them upand down, and made remarks to the maid in that fluent French of herswhich was so unintelligible to the schoolgirls' ears. The maid smirkedand pursed up her lips, and then, meeting Peggy's steady gaze, droppedher eyes in confusion. Peggy knew, as well as if she had understoodevery word, that the remarks exchanged between mistress and maid hadbeen of a depreciatory nature, not as concerned her own attire--that wasas perfect in its way as Rosalind's own--but with reference to thehome-made dresses of the vicar's daughters, which seemed to havesuddenly become clumsy and shapeless when viewed in the mirrors of thiselegant bedroom. She was in arms at once on her friends' behalf, andwhen Peggy's dignity was hurt she was a formidable person to tackle. Inthis instance she fixed her eyes first on the maid, and then on Rosalindherself with a steady, disapproving stare which was not a littledisconcerting. 

"I am sorry, " she said, "but we really don't know French well enough tofollow your conversation! You were talking about us, I think. Perhapsyou would be kind enough to repeat your remarks in English?"

"Oh-h, it doesn't matter! It was nothing at all important!" Rosalindflushed, and had the grace to look a trifle ashamed of her ownill-breeding, but she did not by any means appreciate the reproof. Thegirls had not been ten minutes in the house, and already thataggravating Peggy Saville had succeeded in making her feel humiliatedand uncomfortable. The same thing happened whenever they met. Therespect and awe and adoring admiration which she was accustomed toreceive from other girls of her own age seemed altogether wanting inPeggy's case; and yet, strange to say, the very fact that she refused tofall down and worship invested Peggy with a peculiar importance inRosalind's eyes. She longed to overcome her prejudices and add her nameto the list of her adorers, and to this end she considered her tastes ina way which would never have occurred to her in connection with MrsAsplin's daughters. In planning the pink luncheon Peggy had beencontinually in her mind, and it is doubtful whether she would have takenthe trouble to arrange so difficult an entertainment had not the partyfrom the vicarage included that important personage, Miss MariquitaSaville. 

From the bedroom the girls adjourned to the morning-room, where LadyDarcy sat waiting; but almost as soon as they had exchanged greetings, the gong sounded to announce luncheon, and they walked across the hallaglow with expectation. 

The table looked exquisite, and the guests stood still in the doorwayand gasped with admiration. The weather outside was grey and murky, buttall standard lamps were placed here and there, and the light whichstreamed from beneath the pink silk shades gave an air of warmth andcomfort to the room. Down the centre of the table lay a slip oflooking-glass, on which graceful long-necked swans seemed to float toand fro, while troughs filled with soft pink blossoms formed abordering. Garlands of pink flowers fell from the chandelier and wereattached to the silver candelabra, in which pink candles burned withclear and steady flare. Glass, china, ornaments, were all of the samedainty colour, and beside each plate was a dainty little buttonholenosegay, with a coral-headed pin, all ready to be attached to the dressor coat of the owner. 

"It's--it's beautiful!" cried Mellicent ecstatically; while Peggy'sbeauty-loving eye turned from one detail to another with delightedapprobation. "Really, " she said to herself in astonishment, "I couldn'thave done it better myself! It's quite admirable!" and as Rosalind'sface peered inquiringly at her beneath the canopy of flowers, she noddedher head, and smiled generous approval. 

"Beautiful! Charming! I congratulate you! Did you design it andarrange everything yourself?"

"Mother and I made it up between us. We didn't do the actual work, butwe told the servants what to do, and saw that it was all right. Theflowers and bonbons are easy enough to manage; it's the things to eatthat are the greatest trouble. "

"It seems to be too horribly prosaic to eat anything at such a table, except crumpled rose-leaves, like the princess in the fairy tale, " saidPeggy gushingly; but at this Mellicent gave an exclamation of dismay, and the three big lads turned their eyes simultaneously towards the souptureen, as if anxious to assure themselves that they were not to be putoff with such ethereal rations. 

The soup was pink. "Tomato!" murmured Peggy to herself, as she raisedthe first creamy spoonful to her lips. The fish was covered with thickpink sauce; tiny little cutlets lurked behind ruffles of pink paper;pink baskets held chicken souffles; moulds of pink cream and whipped-upsyllabubs were handed round in turns, and looked so tempting thatMellicent helped herself at once, and nearly shed tears of mortificationon finding that they were followed by distracting pink ices, which werecarried away again before she could possibly finish what was on herplate. Then came dessert-plates and finger-glasses, in whichcrystallised rose-leaves floated in the scented water, as if infulfilment of Peggy's suggestion of an hour before, and the young peoplesat in great contentment, eating rosy apples, bananas pared and dippedin pink sugar, or helping themselves to the delicious bonbons which werestrewed about the table. 

While they were thus occupied the door opened, and Lord Darcy came intothe room. He had not appeared before, and he shook hands with thevisitors in turn, and then stood at the head of the table looking abouthim with a slow, kindly smile. Peggy watched him from her seat, andthought what a nice face he had, and wondered at the indifferent mannerin which he was received by his wife and daughter. Lady Darcy leantback in her chair and played with her fruit, the sleeves of her pinksilk tea-gown falling back from her white arms. Rosalind whispered toMax, and neither of them troubled to cast so much as a glance of welcomeat the new-comer. Peggy thought of her own father, the gallant soldierout in India, of the joy and pride with which his comings and goingswere watched; of Mr Asplin in the vicarage, with his wife running tomeet him, and Mellicent resting her curly bead on his shoulder; and thefigure of the old lord standing unnoticed at the head of his own tableassumed a pathetic interest. It seemed, however, as if Lord Darcy wereaccustomed to be overlooked, for he showed no signs of annoyance; on thecontrary, his face brightened, and he looked at the pretty scene withsparkling eyes. The room was full of a soft rosy glow, the shimmer ofsilver and crystal was reflected in the sheet of mirror, and beneath thegarlands of flowers the young faces of the guests glowed with pleasureand excitement. He looked from one to the other--handsome Max, dandyOswald, Robert with his look of strength and decision; then to thegirls--Esther, gravely smiling; wide-eyed Mellicent; Peggy, with hereloquent, sparkling eyes; Rosalind, a queen of beauty among them all;finally to the head of the table, where sat his wife. 

"I must congratulate you, dear, " he said heartily. "It is the prettiestsight I have seen for a long time. You have arranged admirably, butthat's no new thing; you always do. I don't know where you get yourideas. These wreaths--eh? I've never seen anything like them before. What made you think of fastening them up there?"

"I have had them like that several times before, but you never notice athing until its novelty is over, and I am tired to death of seeing it, "said his wife, with a frown and an impatient curve of the lip, as if shehad received a rebuke instead of a compliment. 

Peggy stared at her plate, felt Robert shuffle on his chair by her side, and realised that he was as embarrassed and unhappy as herself. Thebeautiful room with its luxurious appointments seemed to have suddenlybecome oppressive and cheerless, for in it was the spirit of discontentand discord between those who should have been most in harmony. Estherwas shocked, Mellicent frightened, the boys looked awkward anduncomfortable. No one ventured to break the silence, and there wasquite a long pause before Lady Darcy spoke again in quick, irritabletones. 

"Have you arranged to get away with me on Thursday, as I asked you?"

"My dear, I cannot. I explained before. I am extremely sorry, but Ihave made appointments which I cannot break. I could take you next weekif you would wait. "

"I can't wait. I told you I had to go to the dentist's. Do you wish meto linger on in agony for another week? And I have written to MrsBouverie that I will be at her `At Home' on Saturday. My appointmentsare, at least, as binding as yours. It isn't often that I ask you totake me anywhere, but when it is a matter of health I do think you mightshow a little consideration. "

Lord Darcy drew his brows together and bit his moustache. Peggyrecalled Robert's description of the "governor looking wretched" when hefound himself compelled to refuse a favour, and did not wonder that thelad was ready to deny himself a pleasure rather than see that expressionon his father's face. The twinkling light had died out of his eyes, andhe looked old and sad and haggard, far more in need of physical remediesthan his wife, whose "agony" had been so well concealed during the lasttwo hours as to give her the appearance of a person in very comfortablehealth. Rosalind alone looked absolutely unruffled, and lay back in herchair nibbling at her bonbon, as though such scenes were of too frequentoccurrence between her parents to be deserving of attention. 

"If you have made up your mind to go to-morrow, and cannot go alone, youmust take Robert with you, Beatrice, for I cannot leave. It is only forfour days, and Mr Asplin will no doubt excuse him, if you write andexplain the circumstances. "

Lord Darcy left the room, and Robert and Peggy exchanged agonisedglances. Go away for nearly a week, when before two days were over thecalendar must be sent to London, and there still remained real hard workbefore it was finished! Peggy sat dazed and miserable, seeing thepainful effort of the last month brought to naught, Robert's ambitiondefeated, and her own help of no avail. That one glance had shown thelad's face flushed with emotion; but when his mother spoke to him infretful tones, bidding him be ready next morning when she should call inthe carriage on her way to the station, he answered at once with politeacquiescence--

"Very well, mater, I won't keep you waiting. I shall be ready byhalf-past ten if you want me. "

CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 

Lady Darcy left the young people by themselves after luncheon, and, aswas only natural, conversation at once turned on the proposed visit toLondon. Peggy was too much perturbed to speak, but Mellicent put thevery inquiry which she most wished answered, being never troubled withbashfulness in asking questions. 

"Has your mother's tooth been hurting her very much, Rosalind?"

"Tooth! what tooth? Oh, I think she did have a little twinge one night;but it's not the dentist whom she is really going to see. That's onlyan excuse. She really wants to go to some parties, " said Rosalindlightly; whereat her brother scowled at her under heavy brows. 

"What business have you to say that? What can you know about it, pray?If mother says she is in pain, it is not for you to contradict, and makeup your own explanations. Leave her to manage her own affairs--"

He spoke rapidly, but Rosalind only shrugged her shoulders, andwhispered something in Max's ear, at which he smiled and nodded hishead, evidently taking her part against her brother, to Peggy's intenseindignation. 

No words were exchanged between the partners on the subject of thecalendar until they were once more at home; when Robert took advantageof the first quiet opportunity, and came up to Peggy with a face of setdetermination. 

"Mariquita!" he said, "_I_--_am_--_not_--_going_--_to give in_! If youstick to me, we can still manage to get the calendar off in time. Thereare twenty more quotations to be found. I'll sit up to-night and fixthem off, and go on writing as long as I can keep awake, but I can'ttake a dozen books up to town with me, so I must leave it to you tofinish up. I'll mark the passages I choose, write the full address on apiece of paper, and leave everything ready for you to make up theparcel. All you will have to do will be to write the remaining cards, and to see that it is sent off on Friday. Five o'clock will be timeenough, but if you can get it off in the morning, so much the better. You think you can manage as much as that?"

"Oh yes! I'd do anything rather than give up now. It would be toogrudging. I am not afraid of a little more work. "

"You have done more than your share already. I am mad about it, but itcan't be helped. I couldn't refuse to go with the mater, and I wouldn'tif I could. She is really not at all strong, and does not like the lifedown here. It will do her good to have a few days' change. "

Peggy looked at him steadily. She did not speak, but her eyes grew softand shining, and there was something at once so sweet, so kindly, and sogentle in her expression that Rob exclaimed in surprise--

"I say, Peggy, you--you do look pretty! I never saw you look like thatbefore--what have you been doing to yourself?"

"Doing!" Peggy straightened herself at that, in offended dignity. "Doing, indeed! What do you mean? Don't you think I am pretty as arule?"

"Never thought about it, " returned Robert carelessly. "You are Peggy--that's enough for me. A nice state I should be in to-day if it were notfor you! You are the jolliest little brick I ever met, and if I getthis prize it will be far more your doing than my own. "

Well, that was good hearing! Peggy held her head high for the rest ofthat evening, and felt as if nothing would have power to depress her forthe future. But, alas, when the pendulum is at its highest it begins toswing downwards. Peggy's heart sank as she watched Robert drive awayfrom the door the next morning, and it went on sinking more and moreduring the next twenty-four hours, as she realised the responsibilitywhich weighed upon her shoulders. When she came down to breakfast onFriday morning the calendar was finished and ready to be made up for thepost, but her head was splitting with pain as the result of the longhours' work stolen from sleep, and a dead weight of depression hadsettled on her spirits. It seemed of a sudden that all this work andeffort was waste of time; that the chances of being successful wereinfinitesimally small; that even if it were gained, the prize was oflittle value; that if Robert's absence for four days made such adifference in the life at the vicarage, it would become altogetherunbearable when he said good-bye at the beginning of the year and wentup to Oxford; that she was a desperately unfortunate little unit, thrustinto the midst of a family which was complete in itself, and had only akindly toleration to offer to a stranger; that, in all probability, there would shortly be a war in India, when her father would be killed, her mother die of a broken heart, and Arthur be called out to join theranks of the recruits. She conjured up a touching picture of herself, swathed in crape, bidding good-bye to her brother at the railwaystation, and watching the scarlet coat disappear in the distance, as thetrain steamed away. It was all most miserable and picturesque, andoutside the fog gathered, and the rain poured down in a fine, persistentdrizzle. It was one of those typical November days when it seems as ifthe earth itself is in the blues, and that it becomes everyone living onits surface to follow its example. 

When afternoon came Peggy curled herself in an arm-chair in the cornerof the study, and stared gloomily at the fire. It was four o'clock. Inanother hour the postman would call for the letters, and she woulddeliver the precious packet into his hands. She had made it up in thedinner-hour, with some faint idea of carrying it to the village; but shewas tired, the rain poured, and Rob had said that the afternoon postwould do. She had given up the idea of going out, and taken a napinstead on the top of her bed. And now it was four o'clock. Mellicentcalled out that she was dying for tea-time to come; it had seemed such along, long day; they really ought to have tea earlier on these dreary, murky afternoons. "_I want my tea_!" she chanted, in shrill, penetrating tones, and instantly the refrain was taken up by the othervoices, and repeated over and over again with ever-increasing volume, until the mistress of the house rushed in to discover the reason of theclamour. 

"Bless your hearts, you shall have it at once!" she cried. "I'll ringand have it brought in, and ransack my cupboards to see what treats Ican give you. Poor dears, it _is_ dull for you sitting indoors all daylong. We must think of some bright, exciting games for this evening. "No sooner said than done; she did not wait until Mary appeared, butbustled off to meet her, to enlist the cook's sympathy, and put out thepromised delicacies, and when the table was set she returned to the roomand seated herself, smilingly, in Esther's place. 

"I am going to stay with you this afternoon, " she said brightly. "Drawup your chairs, dears, and let us be jovial. There is no credit inbeing happy when the sun is shining, as dear old Mark Tapley would havesaid; but it will really be praiseworthy if we succeed in being festivethis afternoon. Come, Peggy, dearie!"

Peggy turned her dreary little face and stared at the table. Fromoutside came the sound of the opening and shutting of the door, offootsteps in the hall. She glanced at the clock, wondering if it couldpossibly be the postman already, found it was only ten minutes pastfour, and dismissed the supposition with a sigh. "I don't--think--Iwant--" she was beginning slowly, when, of a sudden, there came atremendous rat-tat-tat on the schoolroom door; the handle was notturned, but burst open; a blast of chilly air blew into the room, and inthe doorway stood a tall, handsome youth, with square shoulders, agracefully poised head, and Peggy Saville's eave-like brows above hisdancing eyes. 

"Oh, what a surprise!" came the cry in loud laughing tones. "How do youdo, everybody? Just thought I would step in as I was passing, and havea cup of tea, don't you know. "

"My boy! My boy! Oh, how good to see you!" cried Mrs Asplinrapturously. Mellicent gurgled with surprise, and Peggy stood up by herchair and stretched out both arms like a child to its mother. 

"Arthur!--oh--Arthur!" she gasped, and there was a pathos, a longing, analmost incredulous rapture in her voice which made the tears start inMrs Asplin's eyes, and brought a cloud of anxiety over the new-comer'sface. 

"Why, Peg!" he cried. "My little Peg! Is something wrong, dear? Youlook as melancholy as--"

"Peggy has not been like herself for the last few weeks. I think shehas had an attack of homesickness and longing for her own people. I'mso glad you've come. You will do her more good than a dozen tonics. Bless the boy; how big he is! And how did you manage to get away, dear, and how long can you stay? Tell me all about it. I am consumed withcuriosity--"

"I can stay till Monday or Tuesday, if you can put me up; and I cameaway because I--I suppose I am not quite up to the mark. My headbothers me. It aches, and I see black specks floating before my eyes. The doctor advised me to knock off for a few days, and I thought I wouldrather come here than anywhere. "

"I should think so, indeed. Of course we can put you up--proud andpleased to do so. Well, this is a pleasant surprise for a dull Novemberday! You couldn't have had a better one if you had had a hundredwishes, could you, Peggy? You won't feel melancholy any longer?"

"I'm just enraptured! Saturday, Sunday, Monday--three whole days andtwo halves, as good as four days--almost a week! It's too delicious--too utterly delicious to realise!"

Peggy drew deep sighs of happiness, and hung on to Arthur's arm in anabandonment of tenderness which showed her in a new light to hercompanions. She would not loosen her grasp for a moment, and even whenseated at the table kept her fingers tightly locked round his arm, asthough afraid that he might escape. 

As for Arthur himself, he was in the wildest spirits. He was ashandsome a young soldier as one could wish to see, and his likeness toPeggy seemed only to make him more attractive in the eyes of thebeholders. 

"Hurrah!" he cried cheerily. "Hurrah, for a good old vicarage tea!Scones? that's the style! Mary made them, I hope, and put in lots ofcurrants. Raspberry jam! I say, mater, do you remember that solemnwaitress you had, who told you that the jam was done again, and when youexclaimed in horror, said, `Yes, 'um, it's not a bit of good buyingraspberry jam. _They like it_!' Ha, ha, ha! I've often thought ofthat! That looks uncommonly good cake you have over there. Thank you, I think I will! Begin with cake, and work steadily back to bread andbutter--that's the style, isn't it, Peggums? Esther, I looks towardsyou! Mellicent, you are as thin as ever, I see. You should really dosomething for it. There are regular hollows in your cheeks. "

"Nasty, horrid thing! You are always teasing! How would you like it ifyou were struck fat yourself?" cried Mellicent, aggrieved. But, inspite of herself, her chubby cheeks dimpled with smiles as Arthur rolledhis eyes at her across the table, for there was something irresistiblyfascinating about this young fellow, and it was like old times to seehim seated at the tea-table and to listen to his merry rattling voice. 

"The dominie must grant a general holiday to-morrow, " he declared, "andwe will do something fine to celebrate the occasion. We'll have outthis wonderful camera in the morning and take some groups. You and Imust be taken together, Peggy, to send out to the parents. You promisedto send me copies of all the things you took, but you are as false inthat respect as the whole race of amateur photographers. They are grandhands at promising, but they never, by any chance--Hallo! What's that?My cup over? Awfully sorry, mater, really! I'll put a penny in themissionary-box. Was it a clean cloth?"

"Oh, my dear boy, don't apologise! I should not have felt that it wasreally you if you had not knocked your cup over! To see the table-clothswimming with tea all round convinces me that it is Arthur himself, andnobody else! Tut, tut! What does a table-cloth matter?" And MrsAsplin beamed upon her favourite as if she were really rather delightedthan otherwise at his exploit. 

It was a merry, not to say noisy, meal which followed. Peggy's lostspirits had come back with the first glimpse of Arthur's face; and herquips and cranks were so irresistibly droll that three separate timesover Mellicent choked over her tea, and had to be relieved with vigorouspounding on the back, while even Esther shook with laughter, and theboys became positively uproarious. 

Then Mr Asplin came in, and Arthur was carefully concealed behind thewindow-curtains, while he was asked whom he would most like to see ifthe choice were given him. In provoking manner he mentioned at once abrother in Australia, and, when informed that relatives were not on thelist, recollected an old college chum who was out in the Mauritius. 

"Oh dear, what a stupid man!" cried his wife in despair. "We don't meanthe friends of your youth, dear! Think of the last few years and ofyour young friends! Now, if you could choose, whom would you--"

"Arthur Saville!" said the vicar promptly, upon which Arthur made aloophole between the curtains and thrust his mischievous face throughthe gap, to the vicar's amazement and the uproarious delight of theonlookers. A dozen questions had to be asked and answered aboutstudies, examinations, and health, while Peggy sat listening, beamingwith happiness and pride. 

It came as quite a shock to all when the vicar announced that it wastime to dress for dinner, and Mrs Asplin looked at Peggy with anapologetic smile. 

"We were all so charmed to see Arthur that I'm afraid we have beenselfish and engrossed too much of his attention. You two will belonging for a cosy little chat to yourselves. If you run upstairs now, Peggy, and hurry through your dressing, there will be a little timebefore dinner, and you could have this room to yourselves. "

"Yes, run along, Peg! It won't take me ten minutes to get into myclothes, and I'll be here waiting for you!" cried Arthur eagerly. AndPeggy went flying two steps at a time upstairs to her own room. 

The gas was lit; the can of hot water stood in the basin, the towelneatly folded over the top; the hands of the little red clock pointed tosix o'clock, and the faint chime met her ear as she entered. 

Peggy stood still in the doorway, an icy chill crept through her veins, her hands grasped the lintel, and her eyes grew wide and blank withhorror. There, on the writing-table lay a brown paper parcel--theprecious parcel which contained the calendar which had been the objectof such painful work and anxiety!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 

PEGGY IS LOST. 

Arthur Saville waited in vain by the schoolroom fire, for his sister didnot join him. And when he entered the dining-room in response to thesummons of the gong, she had not yet made her appearance. 

Mrs Asplin looked at him with uplifted brows. 

"Where is Peggy?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her since she went upstairs. The littlewretch can't have hurried very much. "

"She hasn't been with you, then! Never mind, there is plenty of time tocome. She must be making a special toilet for your benefit. "

But when the first course was nearly over and the girl had not yetappeared, Mrs Asplin grew impatient, and despatched the servant tohasten her movements. 

"Just tell her that we have been at table for nearly ten minutes. Askif she will be long. "

Mary left the room, was absent a short time, and came back with anextraordinary statement. 

"Miss Peggy is not in her room, ma'am. "

"Not in her room! Then she must have come downstairs. Perhaps shedidn't hear the gong. Just look in the schoolroom, Mary, and in theother rooms too, and tell her to come at once. "

Another few minutes passed, and back again came Mary, looking flushedand mysterious. 

"I can't see Miss Peggy anywhere, ma'am. She has not come downstairs. "

"You have looked in the drawing-room--Mr Asplin's study?"

"Yes, ma'am. "

"Did you go upstairs again?"

"No, ma'am. I had looked there before. "

"Esther dear, you go!" cried Mrs Asplin quickly. "Bring her down atonce! What in the world is the child doing? It's most extraordinary!"

"She's not given to playing games of hide-and-seek just at dinner-time, is she?" asked Arthur, laughing. "I am never surprised at anythingPeggy does. She has some little prank on hand, depend upon it, and willturn up in good time. It's her own fault if she misses her dinner. "

"But it's so extraordinary! To-night of all nights, when you have justarrived! I wish the child would come!" replied Mrs Asplin, craning herneck forward to listen to the cries of "Peggy! Peggy!" which came fromthe upper storey. 

The door stood open, and everyone ceased talking to follow Esther'sfootsteps to and fro, to count the opening and shutting of doors--one, two, three, four, five--to look apprehensively at each other as themessenger returned--alone!

"Mother, she is not there! I've looked everywhere--in every corner--andshe has not changed her dress, nor washed, nor anything. The room looksexactly as if she had never gone in; but she did, for we all followedher upstairs. I looked over the wardrobe, and all her dresses arethere, and the can of hot water is untouched, and the gas left full up. "

"Oh dear, what can have happened?" Mrs Asplin pushed back her chairand stood up, looking anxious and puzzled. "I cannot rest until she isfound! I must look myself! Go on with dinner, all of you; I won't belong. Where can the child be hiding herself?"

"Don't worry, mater!" said Arthur kindly. "It's very tiresome of Peggyto disappear at such an inopportune moment, but no harm can havehappened to her, you know. It's impossible! As I said before, she hasprobably some wild prank in her head of which this is a part. I'll giveher a lecture when I catch her for spoiling dinner like this, and suchan uncommonly good dinner too!" And Arthur smiled in cheery fashion, and tried his best to keep up the failing spirits of the company bychatting away while his hostess was out of the room, as if nothing hadhappened which was the least unusual or alarming. 

When Mrs Asplin returned, however, after a lengthened absence, therewas a simultaneous rising from the table to listen to her report. 

"She is not in the house! Jane began at the top and I began at thebottom, and we searched every hole and corner. I have looked in thevery cupboards and wardrobes! I even searched the cistern-room, but sheis not to be found. I don't know what to do next. It seems impossiblethat she can have disappeared--yet where can she be?"

"Have you looked in the cloak-room to see if any of her outdoor thingsare missing?"

"I went in, but I never thought of looking at her clothes. Outdoor?What on earth should take the child out at this hour in the dark andrain?"

"I can't tell you that, dear, but we must think of every possibility. Esther, you know best what Peggy had in the cloak-room--see if anythingis missing. Mellicent, run upstairs and find if any hats or jacketshave been taken from their places. If she is not in the house, she musthave gone out. It was most thoughtless and foolish to go without askingpermission, and at such an hour; but, as Arthur says, there is not muchchance of any harm befalling her. Try not to work yourself up into astate of anxiety, dear; we shall soon find your truant for you. Well, Esther, what is it?"

"Her mackintosh has gone, father, and her red tam-o'-shanter, and hersnow-shoes. Her peg is next to mine, and there is nothing on it but hercheck golf cape. "

"She has gone out, then! What can it mean?--to-night of all nights, when she was so happy, when Arthur had just arrived, when she promisedto be downstairs in ten minutes--"

"It is most extraordinary! It must have been something of greatimportance, one would say. Does anyone know if Peggy had any specialinterest on hand at present? Was there any gift which she wished tobuy? It does not happen to be anyone's birthday to-morrow, does it?Yours, Arthur, for instance? No? The birthday of a school-friend, then? She might suddenly have remembered such an occasion, and rushedout to post a letter--"

"But there is no post until to-morrow morning, so she would gain no timeby doing that. The postman called at five o'clock, and the letters wereon the hall-table waiting for him as usual. I do not know of any workthat she had on hand, but the girls have complained that she has spentall her spare time in her room lately, and when I spoke to her about itshe said she was writing--"

"Perhaps she is writing a book, " suggested Mellicent thoughtfully. "Shesays she is going to be an authoress when she grows up. I think Robertknew what she was doing. They were always talking together and lookingover books, and I heard him say to her, `Bring me all you have finished, to look over. ' I said something to her about printing some photographsfor Christmas cards, and she said she could do nothing until after thenineteenth. "

"The nineteenth!" echoed the vicar sharply. "That is to-day. We gatherfrom that, then, that Peggy had been busy with work, either by herselfor in conjunction with Robert, which had to be completed by to-day. Nobody has the least idea of what nature it was? No? Then I shall goto Robert's room and see if there is anything lying about which can giveme a clue. "

"I'll go with you, sir, " said Arthur, who was beginning to look a littleanxious and uneasy, as the moments passed by and brought no sign of hissister; but, alas, the scattered papers on Rob's table gave no clue tothe mystery!

When one is endeavouring to find a reason why a girl should mysteriouslydisappear from her home, it does not help very much to find a few slipsof paper on which are written such items as "Tennyson's Poems, page 26, ""Selections from British Authors, 203", "Macaulay's Essays, 97, "etcetera. 

Arthur and Mr Asplin looked at one another, puzzled and disappointed, and had no alternative but to return to the dining-room and confesstheir failure. 

"Would not it be a good thing to go up to the Larches, and hear whatRobert has to say on the subject?" Arthur asked; and when he was toldthat Robert was in London he still held to his suggestion. 

"For someone else in the house may know about it, " he declared. "Robmay have confided in his mother or sister. At the worst we can get hisaddress, and telegraph to him for information, if she has not returnedbefore we get back. She might even have gone to the Larches herselfto--to see Rosalind!"

"Peggy doesn't like Rosalind. She never goes to see her if she can helpit. I'm quite sure she has not gone there, " said Mellicent shrewdly. "It is more likely she has gone to Fraulein's lodgings to tell her aboutArthur. She is fond of Fraulein. "

The suggestion was not very brilliant, but it was hailed with eagernessby the listeners as the most probable explanation yet offered. 

"Then I'll tell you what we will do. I'll go off to the Larches, " criedArthur, "and one of you fellows can see Fraulein, and find out if Peggyhas been there. We must try every place, likely and unlikely. It isbetter than sitting here doing nothing. "

Max frowned and hesitated. "Or--er--or you might go to Fraulein, andI'll take the Larches! It is a long walk for you after your journey, "he suggested, with a sudden access of politeness, "and there seems moreprobability that Fraulein may be able to help us. You could go thereand back in a short time. "

"Just as you like, of course. It is all the same to me, " returnedArthur, in a tone which plainly intimated that it was nothing of thesort. Mrs Asplin looked from one to the other of the flushed faces, realising that even in the midst of anxiety the image of beautiful, golden-haired Rosalind had a Will-o'-the-wisp attraction for the two biglads; but her husband saw nothing of what lay behind the commonplacewords, and said calmly--

"Very well, then, Max, be off with you as fast as you can go. Find outif Robert has said anything about the work which he has had on hand;find out his address in town, and, if possible, where a telegram wouldreach him this evening. Arthur will call at Fraulein's lodgings; and, Oswald, you might go with him so far, and walk through the village. Askat old Mrs Gilpin's shop if Miss Saville has been there, but don't talkabout it too much; we don't want to make more fuss than we can help. Keep your eyes open!"

The three lads departed without further delay; the vicar put on his coatand hat preparatory to searching the garden and the lanes in theimmediate neighbourhood, and the womenkind of the household settled downto an hour of painful waiting. 

Mrs Asplin lay back in her chair, with her hand to her head, nowsilent, now breaking out into impetuous lamentations. The fear lest anyaccident had happened to Peggy paralysed her with dread. Her thoughtswent out to far-away India; she imagined the arrival of the ominouscablegram; pictured it carried into the house by a native servant; sawthe light die out of two happy faces at the reading of the fatal words. "Oh, Peggy, Peggy!" she groaned. "Oh, the poor father--the poor mother!What will I do? What will I do? Oh, Peggy, dearie, come back I comeback!"

Esther busied herself looking after a dozen little domesticarrangements, to which no one else seemed capable of attendance, andMellicent laid her head on her mother's lap, and never ceased crying, except for one brief interval, when she darted upstairs to peep insidethe old oak chest, prompted thereto by a sudden reminiscence of thebride of the "Mistletoe Bough. " There was no Peggy inside the chest, however; only a few blankets, and a very strong smell of camphor; soMellicent crept back to her footstool, and cried with redoubled energy. In the kitchen the fat old cook sat with a hand planted on either knee, and thrilled the other servants with an account of how "a cousin of meown brother-in-law, him that married our Annie, had a child as wenta-missing, as fine a girl as you could wish to see from June to January. Beautiful kerly 'air, for all the world like Miss Mellicent's, and suchnice ways with her! Everybody loved that child, gentle and simple. `Beller, ' 'er name was, after her mother. She went out unbeknownst, just as it might be Miss Peggy, and they searched and bettersearched, "--cook's hands waved up and down, and the heads of thelisteners wagged in sympathy--"and never a trace could they find. 'Erfather--he's a stone-mason by trade, and getting good money--he knockedoff work, and his friends they knocked off too, and they searched thecountry far and wide. Day and night I tell you they searched, a week onend, and poor Isabeller nearly off her head with grief. I've heard mysister say as she never tasted bite nor sup the whole time, and waswasted to a shadow. Eh, poor soul, it's hard to rare up a child, andhave it go out smiling and bonnie, and never see nothink of it again butits bones--for she had fallen into a lime pit, had Beller, and it wasnothing but her skeleton as they brought 'ome. There was building goingon around there, and she was playing near the pit--childlike--just as itmight be Miss Peggy... " Soon and on. The horrors accumulated withevery moment. The housemaid had heard tell of a beautiful little girl, the heiress to a big estate, who had been carried off by strollinggipsies, and never been seen again by her sorrowing relatives; while thewaitress hinted darkly that the time might come when it would be acomfort to know force had been employed, for sharper than a serpent'stooth was an ungrateful child, and she always _had_ said that there wassomething uncanny about that little Miss Saville!

The clock was striking nine o'clock when the first of the messengerscame back to report his failure; he was closely followed by a second;and last of all came Max, bringing word that nothing had been seen orheard of Peggy at the Larches; that neither Lord Darcy nor Rosalind hadthe faintest idea of the nature of the work which had just beencompleted; and, further, that on this evening Robert was escorting hismother to some entertainment, so that even if sent off at once atelegram could not reach him until a late hour. Mrs Asplin turned herwhite face from one speaker to the other, and, when the last word wasspoken, broke into a paroxysm of helpless weeping. 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

THE SECRET CONFESSED. 

"Something has happened! Something terrible has happened to the child!And she was left in our charge. We are responsible. Oh, if any harmhas happened to Peggy, however, ever, ever, can I bear to live and sendthe news to her parents--"

"My dearest, you have done your best; you could not have been kinder ormore thoughtful. No blame can attach to you. Remember that Peggy is inhigher hands than yours. However far from us she may be, she can neverstray out of God's keeping. It all seems very dark and mysterious, but--"

At this moment a loud rat-tat-tat sounded on the knocker, and with oneaccord the hearers darted into the hall, and stood panting and gasping, while Arthur threw open the door. 

"Telegram, sir!" said a sharp, young voice, and the brown envelope whichcauses so much agitation in quiet households was thrust forward in asmall cold hand. Arthur looked at the address and handed it to thevicar. 

"It is for you, sir, but it cannot possibly be anything about--"

Mr Asplin tore open the envelope, glanced over the words, and brokeinto an exclamation of amazement. "It is! It is from Peggyherself!--`Euston Station. Returning by 10. 30 train. Please meet me attwelve o'clock. --Peggy. ' What in the world does it mean?" He lookedround the group of anxious faces, only to see his own expression ofbewilderment repeated on each in turn. 

"Euston! Returning! She is in London. She is coming back from town!"

"She ran away to London, to-night when she was so happy, when Arthur hadjust arrived! Why? Why? Why?"

"She must have caught the seven o'clock train. "

"She must have left the house almost immediately after going upstairs todress for dinner. "

"Oh, father, why should she go to London?"

"I am quite unable to tell you, my dear, " replied the vicar drily. Helooked at his wife's white, exhausted face, and his eyes flashed withthe "A-word-with-you-in-my-study" expression, which argued ill for MissPeggy's reception. Mrs Asplin, however, was too thankful to know ofthe girl's safety to have any thought for herself. She began to smile, with the tears still running down her face, and to draw long breaths ofrelief and satisfaction. 

"It's no use trying to guess at that, Millie dear. It is enough for meto know that she is alive and well. We shall just have to try andcompose ourselves in patience until we hear Peggy's own explanation. Let me see! There is nearly an hour before you need set out. What canwe do to pass the time as quickly as possible?"

"Have some coffee, I should say! None of us have had too much dinner, and a little refreshment would be very welcome after all this strain, "said Arthur promptly, and Mrs Asplin eagerly welcomed the suggestion. 

"That's what I call a really practical proposal! Ring the bell, dear, and I will order it at once. I am sure we shall all have thankfulhearts while we drink it. " She looked appealingly at Mr Asplin as shespoke; but there was no answering smile on his face, and the lines downhis cheeks looked deeper and grimmer than ever. 

"Oh, goody, goody, goodness, aren't I glad I am not Peggy!" sighedMellicent to herself; while Arthur Saville pursed his lips together, andthought, "Poor little Peg! She'll catch it. I've never seen thedominie look so savage. This is a nice sort of treat for a fellow whohas been ordered away for rest and refreshment! I wish the next twohours were safely over. "

Wishing, unfortunately, however, can never carry us over the painfulcrises of our lives. We have to face them as best we may, and Arthurneeded all his cheery confidence to sustain him during the damp walkwhich followed, when the vicar tramped silently by his side, his shovelhat pulled over his eyes, his mackintosh coat flapping to and fro in thewind. 

They reached the station in good time, and punctually to the minute thelights of the London express were seen in the distance. The train drewup, and among the few passengers who alighted the figure of Peggy, inher scarlet-trimmed hat, was easily distinguished. She was assisted outof the carriage by an elderly gentleman, in a big travelling coat, whostood by her side as she looked about for her friends. As Mr Asplinand Arthur approached, they only heard his hearty, "Now you are allright!" and Peggy's elegant rejoinder, "Exceedingly indebted to you forall your kindness!" Then he stepped back into the carriage, and shecame forward to meet them, half shy, half smiling, "I--I am afraid thatyou--"

"We will defer explanations, Mariquita, if you please, until we reachhome. A fly is waiting. We will return as quickly as possible, " saidthe vicar frigidly; and the brother and sister lagged behind as he ledthe way out of the station, gesticulating and whispering together infurtive fashion. 

"Oh, you Peggy! _Now_ you have done it! No end of a row!"

"Couldn't help it! Had to go. Stick to me, Arthur, whatever you do!"

"Like a leech! We'll worry through somehow. Never say die!" Then thefly was reached, and they jolted home in silence. 

Mrs Asplin and the four young folks were sitting waiting in thedrawing-room, and each one turned an eager, excited face towards thedoorway as Peggy entered, her cheeks white, but with shining eyes, andhair ruffled into little curls beneath the scarlet cap. Mrs Asplinwould have rushed forward in welcome, but a look in her husband's facerestrained her, and there was a deathlike silence in the room as he tookup his position by the mantelpiece. 

"Mariquita, " he said slowly, "you have caused us to-night some hours ofthe most acute and painful anxiety which we have ever experienced. Youdisappeared suddenly from among us, and until ten o'clock, when yourtelegram arrived, we had not the faintest notion as to where you couldbe. The most tragic suspicions came to our minds. We have spent theevening in rushing to and fro, searching and inquiring in alldirections. Mrs Asplin has had a shock from which, I fear, she will besome time in recovering. Your brother's pleasure in his visit has beenspoiled. We await your explanation. I am at a loss to imagine anyreason sufficiently good to excuse such behaviour; but I will say nomore until I have heard what you have to say. "

Peggy stood like a prisoner at the bar, with hanging head and handsclasped together. As the vicar spoke of his wife, she darted a look atMrs Asplin, and a quiver of emotion passed over her face. When he hadfinished she drew a deep breath, raised her head and looked him full inthe face with her bright, earnest eyes. 

"I am sorry, " she said slowly. "I can't tell you in words _how_ sorry Iam. I know it will be difficult, but I hope you will forgive me. I wasthinking what I had better do while I was coming back in the train, andI decided that I ought to tell you everything, even though it issupposed to be a secret. Robert will forgive me, and it is Robert'ssecret as much as mine. I'll begin at the beginning. About five weeksago Robert saw an advertisement of a prize that was offered by amagazine. You had to make up a calendar with quotations for every dayin the year, and the person who sent in the best selection would getthirty pounds. Rob wanted the money very badly to buy a microscope, andhe asked me to help him. I was to have ten pounds for myself if we won, but I didn't care about that. I just wanted to help Rob. I said Iwould take the money, because I knew if I didn't he would not let mework so hard, and I thought I would spend it in buying p-p-presents foryou all at Christmas. "--Peggy's voice faltered at this point, and shegulped nervously several times before she could go on with herstory. --"We had to work very hard, because the time was so short. Robert had not seen the advertisement until it had been out some time. I printed the headings on the cards; that is why I sat so much in my ownroom. The last fortnight I have been writing every morning before sixo'clock. Oh, you can't think how difficult it was to get it finished, but Robert was determined to go on; he thought our chance was very good, because he had found some beautiful extracts, and translated others, andthe pages really looked pretty and dainty. The manuscript had to be inLondon this morning; if it missed the post last night, all our workwould have been wasted, and at the last moment Lady Darcy took Rob awaywith her, and I was left with everything to finish. I _may_ have slepta little bit the last two nights; I did lie down for an hour or two, andI _may_ have had a doze, but I don't think so! I wrote the last wordthis morning after the breakfast-bell had rung, and I made up the parcelat twelve o'clock. I thought of going out and posting it then; ofcourse, that is what I should have done, but, "--her voice trembled oncemore--"I was so tired! I thought I would give it to the postman myself, and that would do just as well. I didn't put it with the lettersbecause I was afraid someone would see the address and ask questions, and Rob had said that I was to keep it a secret until we knew whether wehad won. I left the parcel on my table. Then Arthur came! I was sohappy--there was so much to talk about--we had tea--it seemed like fiveminutes. Everyone was amazed when we found it was time to dress, buteven then I forgot all about the calendar. I only remembered thatArthur was here, and was going to stay for four days, and all the wayupstairs I was saying to myself, `I'm happy, I'm happy; oh I _am_happy!' because, you know, though you are so kind, you have manyrelatives belonging to you whom you love better than me, and my ownpeople are all far-away, and sometimes I've been very lonely! I thoughtof nothing but Arthur, and then I opened the door of my room, and there, before my eyes, was the parcel--Rob's parcel that he had trusted to me--that I had solemnly promised to post in time--"

She stopped short, and there was a gasp of interest and commiserationamong the listeners. Peggy caught it; she glanced sharply at thevicar's face, saw its sternness replaced by a momentary softness, andwas quick to make the most of her opportunity. Out flew the dramaticlittle hand, her eyes flashed, her voice thrilled with suppressedexcitement. 

"It lay there before my eyes, and I stood and looked at it. --I thoughtof nothing, but just stood and stared. I heard you all come upstairs, and the doors shut, and Arthur's voice laughing and talking; but therewas only one thing I could remember--I had forgotten Rob's parcel, andhe would come back, and I should have to tell him, and see his face! Ifelt as if I were paralysed, and then suddenly I seized the parcel in myhands, and flew downstairs. I put on my cap and cloak and went out intothe garden. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I was going to do_something_! I ran on and on, through the village, down towards thestation. I knew it was too late for the post-office, but I had a sortof feeling that if I were at the station something might be done. Justas I got there a train came in, and I heard the porter call out, `Londonexpress. ' I thought--No! I did not think at all--I just ran up to acarriage and took a seat, and the door banged, and away we went. Theporter came and asked for my ticket, and I had a great deal of troubleto convince him that I had only come from here, and not all the way. There was an old lady in the carriage, and she told him that it wasquite true, for she had seen me come in. When we went off again, shelooked at me very hard, and said, `Are you in trouble, dear?' and Isaid, `Yes, I am; but oh, please don't talk to me! Do please leave mealone!' for I had begun to realise what I had done, and that I couldn'tbe back for hours and hours, and that you would all be anxious andunhappy. I think I was as miserable as you were when I sent off thattelegram. I posted the parcel in London, and went and sat in thewaiting-room. I had an hour and a half to wait, and I was wretched andnervous and horribly hungry. I had no money left except a few coppers, and I was afraid to spend them and have nothing left. It seemed like awhole day, but at last the train came in, and I saw an old gentlemanwith white hair standing on the platform. I took a fancy to hisappearance, so I walked up to him, and bowed, and said, `Excuse me, sir--I find myself in a dilemma! Will you allow me to travel in thesame carriage as yourself?' He was most agreeable. He had travelledall over the world, and talked in the most interesting fashion, but Icould not listen to his conversation. I was too unhappy. Then wearrived, and Mr Asplin called me `M-M-Mariquita!' and w-wouldn't letyou kiss me--"

Her voice broke helplessly this time, and she stood silent, withquivering lip, while sighs and sobs of sympathy echoed from every side. Mrs Asplin cast a glance at her husband, half defiant, half appealing, met a smile of assent, and rushed impetuously to Peggy's side. 

"My darling! I'll kiss you now. You see we knew nothing of yourtrouble, dear, and we were so very, very anxious. Mr Asplin is notangry with you any longer, are you, Austin? You know now that she hadno intention of grieving us, and that she is truly sorry--"

"I never thought--I never thought, "--sobbed Peggy; and the vicar gave aslow, kindly smile. 

"Ah, Peggy, that is just what I complain about. You don't think, dear, and that causes all the trouble. No, I am not angry any longer. Irealise that the circumstances were peculiar, and that your distress wasnaturally very great. At the same time, it was a most mad thing for agirl of your age to rush off by rail, alone, and at night-time, to aplace like London. You say that you had only a few coppers left in yourpurse. Now suppose there had been no train back to-night, what wouldyou have done? It does not bear thinking of, my dear; or that youshould have waited alone in the station for so long, or thrown yourselfon strangers for protection. What would your parents have said to suchan escapade?"

Peggy sighed, and cast down her eyes. "I think they would have beencross too. I am sure they would have been anxious, but I know theywould forgive me when I was sorry, and promised that I really and trulywould try to be better and more thoughtful! They would say, `Peggydear, you have been sufficiently punished! Consider yourselfabsolved!'"

The vicar's lips twitched, and a twinkle came into his eye. "Well then, I will say the same! I am sure you have regretted your hastiness bythis time, and it will be a lesson to you in the future. For Arthur'ssake, as well as your own, we will say no more on the subject. It wouldbe a pity if his visit were spoiled. Just one thing, Peggy, to show youthat, after all, grown-up people are wiser than young ones, and that itis just as well to refer to them now and then, in matters of difficulty. Has it ever occurred to you that the mail went up to London by the verytrain in which you yourself travelled, and that by giving your parcel tothe guard it could still have been put in the bag? Did that thoughtnever occur to your wise little brain?"

Peggy made a gesture as of one heaping dust and ashes on her head. "Inever did, " she said, "not for a single moment! And I thought I was soclever! I am prostrate with confusion!"

CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

ROSALIND'S BALL. 

In consideration of Arthur's presence and of the late hours andexcitement of the night before, the next day was observed as a holidayin the vicarage. Mrs Asplin stayed in bed until lunch-time, the boyswent for a bicycle ride, and Peggy and her brother had a delightful chattogether by the schoolroom fire, when he told her more details about hisown plans than he had been able to touch upon in a dozen letters. 

"The preliminary examination for Sandhurst begins on the 26th thisyear, " he explained, "and so far as I can make out I shall romp throughit. I am going to take all the subjects in Class One--mathematics, Latin, French, geometrical drawing, and English composition; I'llastonish them in the last subject! Plenty of dash and go, eh, Peggy, --that's the style to fetch 'em! In Class Two you can only take twosubjects, so I'm going in for chemistry and physics. I rather fancymyself in physics, and if I don't come out at the head of the list, orprecious near the head, it won't be for want of trying. I have workedlike a nigger these last six months; between ourselves, I thought I hadworked too hard a few days ago; I felt so stupid and dizzy, and my headached until I could hardly open my eyes. If I had not come away, Ibelieve I should have broken down, but I'm better already, and byTuesday I shall be as fit as a fiddle. I hope I do well, it would be sojolly to cable out the news to the old pater; and I say, Peg, I don'tmean to leave Sandhurst without bringing home something to keep as asouvenir. At the end of each Christmas term a sword is presented to thecadet who passes out first in the final exam. --`The Anson MemorialSword. ' Mariquita!"--Arthur smote his breast, and struck a fierce andwarlike attitude, --"that sword is mine! In the days to come, when youare old and grey-headed, you will see that rusty blade hanging over myancestral hearth, and tell in faltering tones the story of the gallantyouth who wrested it from his opponents. "

"Ha, ha!" responded Peggy deeply. There was no particular meaning inthe exclamation, but it seemed right and fitting in the connection, andhad a smack of melodrama which was quite to her taste. "Of course youwill be first, Arthur!" she added; "and, oh dear! how proud I shall bewhen I see you in all your uniform! I am thankful all my men relativesare soldiers, they are so much more interesting than civilians. Itwould break my heart to think of you as a civilian! Of course wars aresomewhat disconcerting, but then one always hopes there won't be wars. "

"I don't!" cried Arthur loudly. "No, no--active service for me, andplenty of it!

 "`Come one, come all, this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I!'

"That's my motto, and my ambition is the Victoria Cross, and I'll getthat too before I'm done; you see if I don't! It's the ambition of mylife, Peg. I lie awake and think of that little iron cross; I go tosleep and dream of it, and see the two words dancing before my eyes inletters of fire, `For Valour, ' `For Valour, ' `For Valour. ' Ah!"--hedrew a deep breath of excitement--"I don't think there is anything inthe world I should envy, if I could only gain that. "

Peggy gazed at him with kindling eyes. "You are a soldier's son, " shesaid, "and the grandson of a soldier, and the great-grandson of asoldier; it's in your blood; you can't help it--it's in my blood too, Arthur! I give you my solemn word of honour that if the French orGermans came over to invade this land, I'd--" Peggy seized the ruler andwaved it in the air with a gesture of fiercest determination--"I'd fightthem! There! I'd shoot at them; I'd go out and spike the guns; I'd--I'd climb on the house-tops and throw stones at them. You needn'tlaugh, I tell you I should be _terrible_! I feel as if I could face awhole regiment myself. The spirit--the spirit of my ancestors is in mybreast, Arthur Reginald, and woe betide that enemy who tries to wrestfrom me my native land!" Peggy went off into a shriek of laughter, inwhich Arthur joined, until the sound of the merry peals reached MrsAsplin's ears as she lay wearily on her pillow, and brought a smile toher pale face. "Bless the dears! How happy they are!" she murmured toherself; nor even suspected that it was a wholesale massacre of foreignnations which had been the cause of this gleeful outburst. 

Arthur left the vicarage on Tuesday evening, seemingly much refreshed bythe few days' change, though he still complained of his head, andpressed his hand over his eyes from time to time as though in pain. Theparting from Peggy was more cheerful than might have been expected, forin a few more weeks Christmas would be at hand, when, as he himselfexpressed it, he hoped to return with blushing honours thick upon him. Peggy mentally expended her whole ten pounds in a present for the dearhandsome fellow, and held her head high in the consciousness of owning abrother who was destined to be Commander-in-Chief of the British forcesin the years to come. 

The same evening Robert returned from his visit to London. He had heardof Peggy's escapade from his father and sister, and was by no means sograteful as that young lady had expected. 

"What in all the world possessed you to play such a mad trick?" hequeried bluntly. "It makes me ill to think of it. Rushing off toLondon on a wet, foggy night, never even waiting to inquire if there wasa return train, or to count if you had enough money to see you through!Goodness only knows what might have happened! You are careless enoughin an ordinary way, but I must say I gave you credit for more sense thanthat. "

"Well, but, Rob, " pleaded Peggy, aggrieved, "I don't think you needscold! I did it for you, and I thought you would be pleased. "

"Did you indeed? Well, you are mightily mistaken; I wouldn't have letyou do a thing like that for all the microscopes in the world. I don'tcare a rap for the wretched old microscope. "

"Oh! oh!"

"In comparison, I mean. Of course I should have been glad to get it ifit had come to me in an ordinary way, but I was not so wrapped up in theidea that I would not have been reasonable, if you had come to mequietly and explained that you had missed the post. "

Peggy shook her head sagely. "You think so now, because the danger isover, and you are sure it can't happen. But I know better. I can tellyou exactly what would have happened. You wouldn't have stormed orraged, it would have been better if you had, and sooner over; you wouldjust have stood still, and--glared at me! When I'd finished speaking, you would have swallowed two or three times over, as if you were gulpingdown something which you dared not say, and then turned on your heel andmarched out of the room. That's what you would have done, my dear andhonourable sir, and you know it!"

Robert hung his head and looked self-conscious. 

"Well, if I had! A fellow can't hide all he feels in the first momentof disappointment. But I should have got over it, and you know verywell that I should never have brought it up against you. `Glared!'What if I _did_ glare? There is nothing very terrible in that, isthere?"

"Yes, there is. I could not have borne it, when I had been trying sohard to help you. And it would not have been only the first fewminutes. Every time when you were quiet and depressed, when you lookedat your specimens through your little old glass and sighed, and pitchedit away, as I've seen you do scores and scores of times, I should havefelt that it was my fault, and been in the depths of misery. No, no, I'm sorry to the depths of my heart that I scared dear Mrs Asplin andthe rest, but it is a matter of acute satisfaction to me to know thatyour chance has in no way been hindered by your confidence in me!" andPeggy put her head on one side, and coughed in a faint and ladylikemanner, which brought the twinkle back into Robert's eyes. 

"Good old Mariquita!" he cried, laughing. "`Acute satisfaction' isgood, Mariquita--decidedly good! You will make your name yet in theworld of letters. Well, as I said before, you are a jolly little brick, and the best partner a fellow ever had! Mind you, I tell you straightthat I think you behaved badly in cutting off like that; but I'll standby you to the others, and not let them sit upon you while I am there. "

"Thanks!" said Peggy meekly. "But, oh, I beseech of you, don't bring upthe subject if you can help it! I'm tired to death of it all! Thekindest thing you can do is to talk hard about something else, and givethem a fresh excitement to think about. Talk about--about--aboutRosalind if you will; anything will do--only, for pity's sake, leave mealone, and pretend there is not such a thing in the world as acalendar!"

"Right you are!" said Robert, laughing. "I'll steer clear of the rocks!And as it happens, I have got a piece of news that will put your doingsinto the background at one fell swoop. Rosalind is going to give aparty! The Earl and Countess of Berkhampton are coming down to theLarches the week after next, and are going to bring their two girls withthem. They are great lanky things, with about as much `go' in the pairas in one of your little fingers; but this party is to be given in theirhonour. The mater has asked everyone of a right age within a dozenmiles around, and the house will be crammed with visitors. Your card iscoming to-morrow, and I hope you will give me the honour of the firstround, and as many as possible after that. "

"The first, with pleasure; I won't promise any more until I see how weget on. It doesn't seem appropriate to think of your dancing, Rob;there is something too heavy and serious in your demeanour. Oswald isdifferent; he would make a charming dancing master. Oh, it will be anexcitement! Mellicent will not be able to eat or sleep for thinking ofit; and poor Mrs Asplin will be running up seams on the sewing-machine, and making up ribbon bows from this day to that. I'm glad I have adress all ready, and shan't be bothered with any trying on! You don'tknow what it is to stand first on one leg and then on the other, to beturned and pulled about as if you were a dummy, and have pins stuck intoyou as if you were a pin-cushion! I adore pretty clothes, but everytime I go to the dressmaker's I vow and declare that I shall take tosacks. Tell them at dinner, do, and they will talk about it for therest of the evening!"

Peggy's prophecy came true, for the subject of Rosalind's party became atopic of such absorbing interest as left room for little else during thenext few weeks. New dresses had to be bought and made for the girls, and Peggy superintended the operations of the village dressmaker withequal satisfaction to herself and her friends. 

Rosalind appeared engrossed in preparations, and two or three times aweek, as the girls trudged along the muddy roads, with Fraulein laggingin the rear, the jingle of bells would come to their ears, andRosalind's two white long-tailed ponies would come dashing past, drawingthe little open carriage in which their mistress sat, half-hidden amonga pile of baskets and parcels. She was always beautiful and radiant, and as she passed she would turn her head over her shoulders and look atthe three mud-bespattered pedestrians with a smile of pityingcondescension, which made Peggy set her teeth and draw her eyebrowstogether in an ominous frown. 

One day she condescended to stop and speak a few words from her throneamong the cushions. 

"How de do? So sowwy not to have been to see you! Fwightfully busy, don't you know. We are decowating the wooms, and don't know how tofinish in time. It's going to be quite charming!"

"We know! We know! Rob told us. I'm dying to see it. You should askPeggy to help you, if you are in a hurry. She's s-imply splendid atdecorations! Mother says she never knew anyone so good at it as Peggy!"cried Mellicent, with an outburst of gushing praise, in acknowledgmentof which she received a thunderous frown and such a sharp pinch on thearm as penetrated through all her thick winter wrappings. 

Rosalind, however, only ejaculated, "Oh, weally!" in an uninterestedmanner, and whipped up her ponies without taking any further notice ofthe suggestion; but it had taken root in her mind all the same, and shedid not forget to question her brother on the first opportunity. 

Mellicent Asplin had said that Peggy Saville was clever at decoration. Was it true, and would it be the least use asking her to come and helpin the decorations?

Robert laughed, and wagged his head with an air of proud assurance. 

Clever! Peggy? She was a witch! She could work wonders! If you sether down in an empty room, and gave her two-and-sixpence to transform itinto an Alhambra, he verily believed she could do it. The way in whichshe had rigged up the various characters for the Shakespeare reading wasnothing short of miraculous. Yes, indeed, Peggy would be worth a dozenordinary helpers. The question was, Would she come?

"Certainly she will come. I'll send down for her at once, " saidRosalind promptly, and forthwith sat down and wrote a dainty littlenote, not to Peggy herself, but to Mrs Asplin, stating that she hadheard great accounts of Peggy Saville's skill in the art of decoration, and begging that she might be allowed to come up to the Larches to helpwith the final arrangements, arriving as early as possible on the day ofthe party, and bringing her box with her, so as to be saved the fatigueof returning home to dress. It was a prettily worded letter, and MrsAsplin was dismayed at the manner of its reception. 

"No, Peggy Saville won't!" said that young person, pursing her lips andtossing her head in her most high and mighty manner. "She won't doanything of the sort! Why should I go? Let her ask some of her ownfriends! I'm not her friend! I should simply loathe to go!"

"My dear Peggy! When you are asked to help! When this entertainment isgiven for your pleasure, and you can be of real use--"

"I never asked her to give the party! I don't care whether I go or not!She is simply making use of me for her own convenience!"

"It is not the first or only time that you have been asked, as you knowwell, Peggy. And sometimes you have enjoyed yourself very much. Yousaid you would never forget the pink luncheon. In spite of all you say, you owe Rosalind thanks for some pleasant times; and now you can be ofsome service to her. Well, I'm not going to force you, dear. I hateunwilling workers, and if it's not in your heart to go, stay at home, and settle with your conscience as best you can. "

Peggy groaned with sepulchral misery. 

"Wish I hadn't got no conscience! Tiresome, presuming thing--alwayspoking itself forward and making remarks when it isn't wanted. Isuppose I shall have to go, and run about from morning till night, holding a pair of scissors, and nasty little balls of string, forRosalind's use! Genius indeed! What's the use of talking about genius?I know very well I shall not be allowed to do anything but run aboutand wait upon her. It's no use staring at me, Mrs Asplin. I mean itall--every single word. "

"No, you don't, Peggy! No, you don't, my little kind, warm-heartedPeggy! I know better than that! It's just that foolish tongue that isrunning away with you, dearie. In your heart you are pleased to do aservice for a friend, and are going to put your whole strength intodoing it as well and tastefully as it can be done. "

"I'm not! I'm not! I'm not! I'm savage, and it's no use pretending--"

"Yes, you are! I know it! What is the good of having a special gift ifone doesn't put it to good use? Ah, that's the face I like to see! Ididn't recognise my Peggy with that ugly frown. I'll write and sayyou'll come with pleasure. "

"It's to please you, then, not Rosalind!" said Peggy obstinately. ButMrs Asplin only laughed, dropped a kiss upon her cheek, and walked awayto answer the invitation forthwith. 

CHAPTER TWENTY. 

AT THE LARCHES. 

The next morning, immediately after breakfast, Peggy went up to her ownroom to pack for her visit to the Larches. The long dress-box, whichhad been stored away ever since its arrival, was brought out, and itscontents displayed to an admiring audience, consisting of Mrs Asplin, Esther, Mellicent, and Mary the housemaid. 

Everything was there that the heart of girl could desire, and a mother'sforethought provide for her darling's use when she was far-away. Adress of cobweb Indian muslin embroidered in silk, a fan of curlingfeathers, a dear little satin pocket in which to keep the lacehandkerchief, rolls of ribbons, dainty white shoes, with straggly silkstockings rolled into the toes. 

Peggy displayed one article after another, while Mellicent groaned andgurgled with delight; Mary exclaimed, "My, Miss Peggy, but you will besmart!" and Mrs Asplin stifled a sigh at the thought of her owninferior preparations. 

Punctually at ten o'clock the carriage drove up to the door, and offPeggy drove, not altogether unwillingly, now that it had come to thepinch, for after all it _is_ pleasant to be appreciated, and, when agreat excitement is taking place in the neighbourhood, it is only humanto wish to be in the thick of the fray. 

Lady Darcy welcomed her guest with gracious kindness, and, as soon asshe had taken off her hat and jacket in the dressing-room which wasallotted to her use, she was taken straight away to the chief room, where the work of decoration was being carried briskly forward. Thevillage joiner was fitting mirrors into the corners and hammering withdeafening persistence, a couple of gardeners were arranging banks offlowers and palms, and Rosalind stood in the midst of a bower ofgreenery, covered from head to foot in a smock of blue linen, and with apair of gardening gloves drawn over her hands. 

She gave a little cry of relief and satisfaction as Peggy entered. 

"Oh, Mawiquita, so glad you have come! Mother is so busy that she can'tbe with me at all, and these wretched bwanches pwick my fingers! Dolook wound, and say how it looks! This is weally the servants' hall, you know, as we have not a pwoper ballroom, and it is so square and highthat it is perfectly dweadful to decowate! A long, narrow woom is somuch better!"

Peggy thought the arrangements tasteful and pretty; but she could notgush over the effect, which, in truth, was in no way original orstriking. There seemed little to be done in the room itself, so shesuggested an adjournment into the outer hall, which seemed to offerunique opportunities. 

"That space underneath the staircase!" she cried eagerly. "Oh, Rosalind, we could make it look perfectly sweet with all the beautifulEastern things that you have brought home from your travels! Let usmake a little harem, with cushions to sit on, and hanging lamps, andOriental curtains for drapery. We could do it while the men arefinishing this room, and be ready to come back to it after lunch. "

"Oh, what a sweet idea! Mawiquita, you are quite too clever!" criedRosalind, aglow with pleasure. "Let us begin at once. It will be everso much more intewesting than hanging about here. "

She thrust her hand through Peggy's arm as she spoke, and the two girlswent off on a tour through the house to select the most suitablearticles for their decoration of the "harem. " There was no lack ofchoice, for the long suite of reception-rooms was full of treasures, andPeggy stopped every few minutes to point with a small forefinger andsay, "That screen, please! That table! That stool!" to the servantswho had been summoned in attendance. The smaller things, such asornaments, table-cloths, and lamps she carried herself, while Rosalindmurmured sweetly, "Oh, don't twouble! You mustn't, weally! Let me helpyou!" and stood with her arms hanging by her side, without showing thefaintest sign of giving the offered help. 

As the morning passed away, Peggy found indeed that the Honourable MissDarcy was a broken reed to lean upon in the way of assistance. She saton a stool and looked on while the other workers hammered and pinned andstitched--so that Peggy's prophecy as to her own subordinate positionwas exactly reversed, and the work of supervision was given entirelyinto her hands. 

It took nearly two hours to complete the decorations of the "harem, " butwhen all was finished the big ugly space beneath the staircase wastransformed into as charming a nook as it is possible to imagine. Pieces of brilliant flag embroidery from Cairo draped the farther wall, a screen of carved work shut out the end of the passage, gauzy curtainsof gold and blue depended in festoons from the ascending staircase, andstopped just in time to leave a safe place for a hanging lamp of wroughtiron and richly coloured glass. On the floor were spread valuable rugsand piles of bright silken cushions, while on an inlaid table stood areal Turkish hookah and a brass tray with the little egg-shaped cups outof which travellers in the East are accustomed to sip the strong blackcoffee of the natives. 

Peggy lifted the ends of her apron in her hands and executed a dance oftriumph on her own account when all was finished, and Rosalind said, "Weally, we have been clever! I think we may be proud of ourselves!" inamiable effusion. 

The two girls went off to luncheon in a state of halcyon amiabilitywhich was new indeed in the history of their acquaintance, and LadyDarcy listened with an amused smile to their rhapsodies on the subjectof the morning's work, promising faithfully not to look at anythinguntil the right moment should arrive, and she should be summoned to gazeand admire. 

By the time that the workers were ready to return to the room, the menhad finished the arrangements at which they had been at work beforelunch, and were beginning to tack festoons of evergreens along thewalls, the dull paper of which had been covered with fluting of softpink muslin. The effect was heavy and clumsy in the extreme, andRosalind stamped her foot with an outburst of fretful anger. 

"Stop putting up those wreaths! Stop at once! They are simply hideous!It weminds me of a penny weading in the village schoolwoom! You mightas well put up `God save the Queen' and `A Mewwy Chwistmas' at once!Take them down this minute, Jackson! I won't have them!"

The man touched his forehead, and began pulling out the nails inhalf-hearted fashion. 

"Very well, miss, as you wish. Seems a pity, though, not to use 'em, for it took me all yesterday to put 'em together. It's a sin to throw'em away. "

"I won't have them in the house, if they took you a week!" Rosalindreplied sharply, and she turned on her heel and looked appealingly inPeggy's face. "It's a howwid failure! The woom looks so stiff andstwaight--like a pink box with nothing in it! Mother won't like it abit. What can we do to make it better?"

Peggy scowled, pursed up her lips, pressed her hand to her forehead, andstrode up and down the room, rolling her eyes from side to side, andgoing through all the grimaces of one in search of inspiration. Rosalind was right: unless some device were found by which the shape ofthe room could be disguised, the decorations must be pronounced more orless a failure. She craned her head to the ceiling, and suddenly beamedin triumph. 

"I have it! The very thing! We will fasten the garlands to that middlebeam, and loop up the ends at intervals all round the walls. That willbreak the squareness, and make the room look like a tent, with a ceilingof flowers. "

"Ah-h!" cried Rosalind; and clasped her hands with a gesture of relief. "Of course! The vewy thing! We ought to have thought of it at thebeginning. Get the ladder at once, Jackson, and put in a hook or wing, or something to hold the ends; and be sure that it is strong enough. What a good thing that the weaths are weady! You see, your work willnot be wasted after all. "

She was quite gracious in her satisfaction, and for the next two hoursshe and Peggy were busily occupied superintending the hanging of theevergreen wreaths and in arranging bunches of flowers to be placed ateach point where the wreaths were fastened to the wall. At the end ofthis time, Rosalind was summoned to welcome the distinguished visitorswho had arrived by the afternoon train. She invited Peggy to accompanyher to the drawing-room, but in a hesitating fashion, and with a glanceround the disordered room, which said, as plainly as words could do, that she would be disappointed if the invitation were accepted; andPeggy, transformed in a moment into a poker of pride and dignity, declared that she would prefer to remain where she was until all wasfinished. 

"Well, it weally would be better, wouldn't it? I will have a tway sentin to you here, and do, Mawiquita, see that evewything is swept up andmade tidy at once, for I shall bring them in to look wound diwectlyafter tea, and we must have the wooms tidy!"

Rosalind tripped away, and Peggy was left to herself for a lonely andtroublesome hour. The tea-tray was brought in, and she was just seatingherself before an impromptu table, when up came a gardener to say thatone of "these 'ere wreaths seemed to hang uncommon near the gas-bracket. It didn't seem safe like. " And off she went in a panic ofconsternation to see what could be done. There was nothing for it butto move the wreath some inches farther away, which involved moving thenext also, and the next, and the next, so as to equalise the distancesas much as possible; and by the time that they were settled to Peggy'ssatisfaction, lo, table and tray had been whisked out of sight by somebusy pair of hands, and only a bare space met her eyes. This was blownumber one, for, after working hard all afternoon, tea and cake come asa refreshment which one would not readily miss. She cheered herself, however, by putting dainty finishing touches here and there, seeing thatthe lamp was lighted in the "harem" outside, and was busy placing fairylamps among the shrubs which were to screen the band, when a babel ofvoices from outside warned her that the visitors were approaching. Footsteps came nearer and nearer, and a chorus of exclamations greetedthe sight of the "harem. " The door stood open, Peggy waited forRosalind's voice to call and bid her share the honours, but no summonscame. She heard Lady Darcy's exclamation, and the quick, strong tonesof the strange countess. 

"Charming, charming; quite a stroke of genius! I never saw a moreartistic little nook. What made you think of it, my dear?"

"Ha!" said Peggy to herself, and took a step forward, only to draw backin dismay, as a light laugh reached her ear, followed by Rosalind'scareless--

"Oh, I don't know; I wanted to make it pwetty, don't you know; it was sodweadfully bare, and there seemed no other way. "

Then there was a rustle of silk skirts, and the two ladies entered theroom, followed by their respective daughters, Rosalind beautiful andradiant, and the Ladies Berkhampton with their chins poked forward, andtheir elbows thrust out in ungainly fashion. They paused on thethreshold, and every eye travelled up to the wreath-decked ceiling. Aflush of pleasure came into Lady Darcy's pale cheeks, and she listenedto the countess's compliments with sparkling eyes. 

"It is all the work of this clever child, " she said, laying her handfondly on Rosalind's shoulder. "I have had practically nothing to dowith the decorations. This is the first time I have been in the roomto-day, and I had no idea that the garlands were to be used in this way. I thought they were for the walls. "

"I congratulate you, Rosalind! You are certainly very happy in yourarrangements, " said the countess cordially. Then she put up hereyeglass and stared inquiringly at Peggy, who stood by with her hairfastened back in its usual pigtail, and a big white apron pinned overher dress. 

"She thinks I am the kitchen-maid!" said Peggy savagely to herself; butthere was little fear of such a mistake, and, the moment that Lady Darcynoticed the girl's presence, she introduced her kindly enough, if withsomewhat of a condescending air. 

"This is a little friend of Rosalind's who has come up to help. She isfond of this sort of work, " she said; then, before any of the strangershad time to acknowledge the introduction, she added hastily, "And now Iam sure you must all be tired after your journey, and will be glad to goto your rooms and rest. It is quite wicked of me to keep you standing. Let me take you upstairs at once!"

They sailed away with the same rustle of garments, the same babel ofhigh-toned voices, and Peggy stood alone in the middle of the desertedroom. No one had asked her to rest, or suggested that she might betired; she had been overlooked and forgotten in the presence of thedistinguished visitor. She was only a little girl who was "fond" ofthis sort of work, and, it might be supposed, was only too thankful tobe allowed to help! The house sank into silence. She waited for halfan hour longer, in the hope that someone would remember her presence, and then, tired, hungry, and burning with repressed anger, creptupstairs to her own little room and fell asleep upon the couch. 

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. 

ANOTHER ACCIDENT!

Dinner was served unusually early that evening, and was an embarrassingordeal from which Peggy was thankful to escape. 

On her way upstairs, however, Rosalind called her back with an eagerpetition. 

"Oh, Peggy! would you mind awwanging some flowers? A big hamper hasjust awwived from town, and the servants are all so dweadfully busy. Imust get dwessed in time to help mother to weceive, but it wouldn'tmatter if you were a few minutes late. Thanks so much! Awfullyobliged. "

She gave her thanks before an assent had been spoken, and trippedsmilingly away, while Peggy went back to the big room to find a greattray full of hothouse treasures waiting to be arranged, and no availingvases in which to place them. The flowers, however, were so beautiful, and the fronds of maidenhair so green and graceful, that the work was apleasure; she enjoyed discovering unlikely places in which to groupthem, and lingered so long over her arrangements that the suddenstriking of the clock sent her flying upstairs in a panic ofconsternation. Another quarter of an hour and the vicarage party wouldarrive, for they had been bidden a little in advance of the rest, sothat Robert might help his mother and sister in receiving their guests. Peggy tore off dress and apron, and made all the speed she could, butshe was still standing in dressing-jacket and frilled white petticoat, brushing out her long waves of hair when the door opened and Esther andMellicent entered. They had begged to be shown to Miss Saville's room, and came rustling in, smiling and beaming, with woollen caps over theirheads, snow-shoes on their feet, and fleecy shawls swathed round andround their figures, and fastened with a hairpin on the left shoulder, in secure and elegant fashion. Peggy stood, brush in hand, staring atthem and shaking with laughter. 

"He! he! he! I hope you are warm enough! Esther looks like a sausage, and Mellicent looks like a dumpling. Come here, and I'll unwind you. You look as if you could not move an inch, hand or foot. "

"It was mother, " Mellicent explained. "She was so afraid we would catchcold. Oh, Peggy, you are not half dressed. You will be late! Whateverhave you been doing? Have you had a nice day? Did you enjoy it? Whatdid you have for dinner?"

Peggy waved her brush towards the door in dramatic warning. 

"Rosalind's room!" she whispered. "Don't yell, my love, unless you wishevery word to be overheard. This is her dressing-room, which she lentto me for the occasion, so there's only a door between us. --There, now, you are free. Oh, dear me, how you have squashed your sash! You reallymust remember to lift it up when you sit down. You had better standwith your back to the fire, to take out the creases. "

Mellicent's face clouded for a moment, but brightened again as shecaught sight of her reflection in the swing glass. Crumples or nocrumples, there was no denying that blue was a becoming colour. Theplump, rosy cheeks dimpled with satisfaction, and the flaxen head wastwisted to and fro to survey herself in every possible position. 

"Is my hair right at the back? How does the bow look? I haven't burst, have I? I thought I heard something crack in the cab. Do you think Iwill do?"

"Put on your slippers, and I'll tell you. Anyone would look a fright inevening dress and snow-shoes. "

Peggy's answer was given with a severity which sent Mellicent waddlingacross the room to turn out the contents of the bag which lay on thecouch, but the next moment came a squeal of consternation, and there shestood in the attitude of a tragedy queen, with staring eyes, partedlips, and two shabby black slippers grasped in either hand. 

"M-m-m-my old ones!" she gasped in horror-stricken accents. "B-b-b-brought them by mistake!" It was some moments before hercompanions fully grasped the situation, for the new slippers had beenblack too, and of much the same make as those now exhibited. MrsAsplin had had many yearnings over white shoes and stockings, all silkand satin, and tinkling diamond buckles like those which had beendisplayed in Peggy's dress-box. Why should not her darlings have daintypossessions like other girls? It went to her heart to think what animprovement these two articles would make in the simple costumes; thenshe remembered her husband's delicate health, his exhaustion at the endof the day, and the painful effort with which he nerved himself to freshexertions, and felt a bigger pang at the thought of wasting money sohardly earned. As her custom was on such occasions, she put the wholematter before the girls, talking to them as friends, and asking theirhelp in her decision. 

"You see, darlings, " she said, "I want to do my very best for you, andif it would be a real disappointment not to have these things, I'llmanage it somehow, for once in a way. But it's a question whether youwould have another chance of wearing them, and it seems a great deal ofmoney to spend for just one evening, when poor dear father--"

"Oh, mother, no, don't think of it! Black ones will do perfectly well. What can it matter what sort of shoes and stockings we wear? It won'tmake the least difference in our enjoyment, " said Esther the sensible;but Mellicent was by no means of this opinion. 

"I don't know about that! I love white legs!" she sighed dolefully. "All my life long it has been my ambition to have white legs. Silk oneswith little bits of lace let in down the front, like Peggy's. They'reso beautiful! It doesn't seem a bit like a party to wear blackstockings; only of course I know I must, for I'd hate to waste father'smoney. When I grow up I shall marry a rich man, and have everything Iwant. It's disgusting to be poor... Will they be nice black slippers, mother, with buckles on them?"

"Yes, dearie. Beauties! Great big buckles!" said Mrs Asplin lovingly;and a few days later a box had come down from London, and the slippershad been chosen out of a selection of "leading novelties"; worn withcare and reverence the previous evening, "to take off the stiffness, "and then after all--oh, the awfulness of it!--had been replaced by anold pair, in the bustle of departure. 

The three girls stared at one another in consternation. Here was acatastrophe to happen just at the last moment, when everyone was sohappy and well satisfied! The dismay on the chubby face was so pitifulthat neither of Mellicent's companions could find it in her heart tospeak a word of reproof. They rather set to work to propose differentways out of the difficulty. 

"Get hold of Max, and coax him to go back for them!"

"He wouldn't; it's no use. It's raining like anything, and it wouldtake him an hour to go there and come back. "

"Ask Lady Darcy to send one of the servants--"

"No use, my dear. They are scampering up and down like mice, andhaven't a moment to spare from their own work. "

"See if Rosalind would lend me a pair!"

"Silly goose! Look at your foot. It is three times the size of hers. You will just have to wear them, I'm afraid. Give them to me, and letme see what can be done. " Peggy took the slippers in her hands andstudied them critically. They were certainly not new, but then theywere by no means old; just respectable, middle-aged creatures, slightlyrubbed on the heel and white at the toes, but with many a day of goodhard wear still before them. 

"Oh, come, " she said reassuringly, "they are not so bad, Mellicent!With a little polish they would look quite presentable. I'll tap at thedoor and ask Rosalind if she has some that she can lend us. She is sureto have it. There are about fifty thousand bottles on her table. "

Peggy crossed the room as she spoke, tapped on the panel, and receivedan immediate answer in a high complacent treble. 

"Coming! Coming! I'm weady;" then the door flew open; a tiny pink silkshoe stepped daintily over the mat, and Rosalind stood before them inall the glory of a new Parisian dress. Three separate gasps ofadmiration greeted her appearance, and she stood smiling and dimplingwhile the girls took in the fascinating details--the satin frock ofpalest imaginable pink, the white chiffon over-dress which fell fromshoulder to hem in graceful freedom, sprinkled over with exquisiterose--leaves--it was all wonderful--fantastic--as far removed fromPeggy's muslin as from the homely crepon of the vicar's daughters. 

"Rosalind! what a perfect _angel_ you look!" gasped Mellicent, her owndilemma forgotten in her wholehearted admiration; but the next momentmemory came back, and her expression changed to one of pitiful appeal. "But, oh, have you got any boot-polish? The most awful thing hashappened. I've brought my old shoes by mistake! Look! I don't knowwhat on earth I shall do, if you can't give me something to black thetoes. " She held out the shoes as she spoke, and Rosalind gave a shrillscream of laughter. 

"Oh! oh! Those things! How fwightfully funny! what a fwightful joke!You will look like Cinderwella, when she wan away, and the glassslippers changed back to her dweadful old clogs. It is too scweaminglyfunny, I do declare!"

"Oh, never mind what you declare! Can you lend us some boot-polish--that's the question!" cried Peggy sharply. She knew Mellicent's horrorof ridicule, and felt indignant with the girl who could stand by, securein her own beauty and elegance, and have no sympathy for the misfortuneof a friend. "If you have a bottle of peerless gloss, or any of thoseshiny things with a sponge fastened on the cork, I can make them lookquite respectable, and no one will have any cause to laugh. "

"Ha, ha, ha!" trilled Rosalind once more, "Peggy is cwoss! I never knewsuch a girl for flying into tantwums at a moment's notice! Yes, ofcourse I'll lend you the polish. There is some in this littlecupboard--there! I won't touch it, in case it soils my gloves. Shall Icall Marie to put it on for you?"

"Thank you, there's no need--I can do it! I would rather do it myself!"

"Oh--oh, isn't she cwoss! You will bweak the cork if you scwew it aboutlike that, and then you'll never be able to get it out. Why don't youpull it pwoperly?"

"I know how to pull out a cork, thank you; I've done it before!"

Peggy shot an angry glance at her hostess, and set to work again withdoubled energy. Now that Rosalind had laughed at her inability, itwould be misery to fail; but the bottle had evidently lain aside forsome time, and a stiff black crust had formed round the cork which madeit difficult to move. Peggy pulled and tugged, while Rosalind stoodwatching, laughing her aggravating, patronising little laugh, anddropping a word of instruction from time to time. And then, quitesuddenly, a dreadful thing happened. In the flash of an eye--so quicklyand unexpectedly, that, looking back upon it, it seemed like a nightmarewhich could not possibly have taken place in real life--the cork jerkedout in Peggy's hand, in response to a savage tug, and with it out flewan inky jet, which rose straight up in the air, separated into amultitude of tiny drops, and descended in a flood--oh, the horror ofthat moment!--over Rosalind's face, neck, and dress. 

One moment a fairy princess, a goddess of summer, the next a figure offun with black spots scattered thickly over cheeks and nose, a bigsplash on the white shoulder, and inky daubs dotted here and therebetween the rose-leaves. What a transformation! What a spectacle ofhorror! Peggy stood transfixed; Mellicent screamed in terror; andEsther ran forward, handkerchief in hand, only to be waved aside withangry vehemence. Rosalind's face was convulsed with anger; she stampedher foot and spoke at the pitch of her voice, as if she had no controlover her feelings. 

"Oh, oh, oh! You wicked girl! you hateful, detestable girl! You did iton purpose, because you were in a temper! You have been in a temper allthe afternoon! You have spoiled my dress! I was weady to godownstairs. It is eight o'clock. In a few minutes everyone will behere, and oh, what shall I do--what shall I do! Whatever will mothersay when she sees me?"

As if to give a practical answer to this inquiry, there came a sound ofhasty footsteps in the corridor, the door flew open, and Lady Darcyrushed in, followed by the French maid. 

"My darling, what is it? I heard your voice. Has something happened?Oh-h!" She stopped short, paralysed with consternation, while the maidwrung her hands in despair. "Rosalind, what _have_ you done toyourself?"

"Nothing, nothing! It was Peggy Saville; she splashed me with herhorrid boot-polish--I gave it to her for her shoes. It is on my face, my neck, in my mouth--"

"I was pulling the cork. It came out with a jerk. I didn't know; Ididn't see!--"

Lady Darcy's face stiffened with an expression of icy displeasure. 

"It is too annoying! Your dress spoiled at the last moment!Inexcusable carelessness! What is to be done, Marie? I am in despair!"

The Frenchwoman shrugged her shoulders with an indignant glance inPeggy's direction. 

"There is nothing to do. Put on another dress--that is all. Mademoiselle must change as quick as she can. If I sponge the spots, Ispoil the whole thing at once. "

"But you could cut them out, couldn't you?" cried Peggy, the picture ofwoe, yet miserably eager to make what amends she could. "You could cutout the spots with sharp scissors, and the holes would not show, for thechiffon is so full and loose. I--I think I could do it, if you wouldlet me try!"

Mistress and maid exchanged a sharp, mutual glance, and the Frenchwomannodded slowly. 

"Yes, it is true; I could rearrange the folds. It will take some time, but still it can be done. It is the best plan. "

"Go then, Rosalind, go with Marie; there is not a moment to spare, andfor pity's sake don't cry! Your eyes will be red, and at any moment nowthe people may begin to arrive. I wanted you to be with me to receiveyour guests. It will be most awkward being without you, but there is nohelp for it, I suppose. The whole thing is too annoying for words!"

Lady Darcy swept out of the room, and the three girls were once moreleft alone; but how changed were their feelings in those few shortmoments! There was not the shadow of a smile between them; they lookedmore as if they were about to attend a funeral than a scene offestivity, and for several moments no one had the heart to speak. Peggystill held the fatal cork in her hand, and went through the work ofpolishing Mellicent's slippers with an air of the profoundest dejection. When they were finished she handed them over in dreary silence, and wasrecommencing the brushing of her hair, when something in the expressionof the chubby face arrested her attention. Her eyes flashed; she facedround with a frown and a quick, "Well, what is it? What are youthinking now?"

"I--I wondered, " whispered Mellicent breathlessly, "if you did do it onpurpose! Did you _mean_ to spoil her dress, and make her change it?"

Peggy's hands dropped to her side, her back straightened until she stoodstiff and straight as a poker. Every atom of expression seemed to dieout of her face. Her voice had a deadly quiet in its intonation. 

"What do you think about it yourself?"

"I--I thought perhaps you did! She teased you, and you were so cross. You seemed to be standing so very near her, and you are jealous of her--and she looked so lovely! I thought perhaps you did... "

"Mellicent Asplin, " said Peggy quietly, and her voice was like the eastwind that blows from an icy-covered mountain, --"Mellicent Asplin, myname is Saville, and in my family we don't condescend to mean anddishonourable tricks. I may not like Rosalind, but I would have givenall I have in the world sooner than this should have happened. I wastrying to do you a service, but you forget that. You forget manythings! I have been jealous of Rosalind, because when she arrived youand your sister forgot that I was alone and far-away from everyonebelonging to me, and were so much engrossed with her that you left mealone to amuse myself as best I might. You were pleased enough to haveme when no one else was there, but you left me the moment someoneappeared who was richer and grander than I. I wouldn't have treated_you_ like that, if our positions had been reversed. If I dislikeRosalind, it is your fault as much as hers; more than hers, for it wasyou who made me dread her coming!"

Peggy stopped, trembling and breathless. There was a moment's silencein the room, and then Esther spoke in a slow, meditative fashion. 

"It is quite true!" she said. "We _have_ left you alone, Peggy; but itis not quite so bad as you think. Really and truly we like you far thebest, but--but Rosalind is such a change to us! Everything about her isso beautiful and so different, that she has always seemed the greatexcitement of our lives. I don't know that I'm exactly fond of her, butI want to see her, and talk to her, and hear her speak, and she is onlyhere for a short time in the year. It was because we looked upon you asreally one of ourselves that we seemed to neglect you; but it was wrong, all the same. As for your spoiling her dress on purpose, it'sridiculous to think of it. How could you say such a thing, Mellicent, when Peggy was trying to help you, too? How _could_ you be so mean andhorrid?"

"Oh, well, I'm sure I wish I were dead!" wailed Mellicent promptly. "Nothing but fusses and bothers, and just when I thought I was going tobe so happy! If I'd had white shoes, this would never have happened. Always the same thing! When you look forward to a treat, everything isas piggy and nasty as it can be! Wish I'd never come! Wish I'd stayedat home, and let the horrid old party go to Jericho! Rosalind's crying, Peggy's cross, you are preaching! This is a nice way to enjoy yourself, I must say!"

Nothing is more hopeless than to reason with a placid person who haslapsed into a fit of ill-temper. The two elder girls realised this, andremained perfectly silent while Mellicent continued to wish for death, to lament the general misery of life, and the bad fortune which attendedthe wearers of black slippers. So incessant was the stream of herrepinings, that it seemed as if it might have gone on for ever, had nota servant entered at last, with the information that the guests werebeginning to arrive, and that Lady Darcy would be glad to see the youngladies without delay. Esther was anxious to wait and help Peggy withher toilet, but that young lady was still on her dignity, and by nomeans anxious to descend to a scene of gaiety for which she had littleheart. She refused the offer, therefore, in Mariquita fashion, and thesisters walked dejectedly along the brightly-lit corridors, Mellicentstill continuing her melancholy wail, and Esther reflecting sadly thatall was vanity, and devoutly wishing herself back in the peacefulatmosphere of the vicarage. 

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. 

FIRE!

It was fully half an hour later when Peggy crept along the passage, andtook advantage of a quiet moment to slip into the room and seat herselfin a sheltered corner. Quick as she was, however, somebody's eyes wereeven quicker, for a tall figure stepped before her, and an aggrievedvoice cried loudly--

"Well, I hope you are smart enough to satisfy yourself, now that you_are_ ready! You have taken long enough, I must say. What about thatfirst waltz that you promised to have with me?"

Peggy drew in her breath with a gasp of dismay. 

"Oh, Rob, I am sorry! I forgot all about it. I've been so perturbed. Something awful has occurred. You heard about it, of course--"

"No, I didn't? What on earth, " began the boy anxiously; but so soon ashe heard the two words "Rosalind's dress!" he shrugged his shoulders incontemptuous indifference. "Oh, that! I heard something about it, butI didn't take much notice. Spilt some ink, didn't you? What's the oddsif you did? Accidents will happen, and she has a dozen others to choosefrom. I don't see anything wrong with the dress. It looks decentenough. "

Peggy followed the direction of his eyes, and caught a glimpse ofRosalind floating past on the arm of a tall soldierly youth. She wassparkling with smiles, and looking as fresh and spotless as on themoment when she had stepped across the threshold of her own room. Neither face nor dress bore any trace of the misfortune of an hourbefore, and Peggy heaved a sigh of relief as she watched her to and fro. 

"Jolly enough, isn't she? There's nothing for you to fret about, yousee, " said Rob consolingly. "She has forgotten all about it, and thebest thing you can do is to follow her example. What would you think ofsome light refreshment? Let's go to the dining-room and drown oursorrows in strawberry ice. Then we can have a waltz, and try avanilla--and a polka, and some lemonade! That's, my idea of enjoyingmyself. Come along, while you get the chance!--"

"Oh, Rob, you _are_ greedy!" protested Peggy; nevertheless she roseblithely enough, and her eyes began to sparkle with some of their wontedvivacity. There was something strong and reassuring about Robert'spresence; he looked upon things in such an eminently sensible, matter-of-fact way, that one was ashamed to give way to moods and tensesin his company. 

Peggy began to feel that there was still some possibility of happinessin life, and on her way to the door she came face to face with LadyDarcy, who reassured her still further by smiling as amiably as ifnothing had happened. 

"Well, dear, enjoying yourself? Got plenty of partners?" Then in awhispered aside, "The dress looks all right! Such a clever suggestionof yours. Dear, dear, what a fright we had!" and she swept away, leaving an impression of beauty, grace, and affability which the girlwas powerless to resist. When Lady Darcy chose to show herself at herbest, there was a charm about her which subjugated all hearts, and, fromthe moment that the sweet tired eyes smiled into hers, Peggy Savilleforgot her troubles and tripped away to eat strawberry ices, and danceover the polished floor with a heart as light as her heels. 

One party is very much like another. The room may be larger or smaller, the supper more or less substantial, but the programme is the same inboth cases, and there is little to be told about even the grandest ofits kind. Somebody wore pink; somebody wore blue; somebody fell down onthe floor in the middle of the lancers, which are no longer the statelyand dignified dance of yore, but an ungainly romp more befitting akitchen than a ballroom; somebody went in to supper twice over, andsomebody never went at all, but blushed unseen in a corner, thinkinglongingly of turkey, trifle, and crackers; and then the carriages beganto roll up to the door, brothers and sisters paired demurely together, stammered out a bashful "Enjoyed myself so much! Thanks for a pleasantevening, " and raced upstairs for coats and shawls. 

By half-past twelve all the guests had departed except the vicarageparty, and the sons and daughters of the old squire who lived close by, who had been pressed to stay behind for that last half-hour which isoften the most enjoyable of the whole evening. 

Lord and Lady Darcy and the grown-up visitors retired into thedrawing-room to regale themselves with sandwiches and ices, and theyoung people stormed the supper-room, interrupted the servants in theirwork of clearing away the good things, seated themselvesindiscriminately on floor, chair, or table, and despatched a secondsupper with undiminished appetite. Then Esther mounted the platformwhere the band had been seated, and played a last waltz, and a very lastwaltz, and "really the last waltz of all. " The squire's son played apolka with two fingers, and a great deal of loud pedal, and the fun grewfaster and more uproarious with every moment. Even Rosalind threw asideyoung ladylike affectations and pranced about without thinking ofappearances, and when at last the others left the room to prepare forthe drive home she seized Peggy's arm in eager excitement. 

"Peggy! Peggy! Such a joke! I told them to come back to say good-bye, and I am going to play a twick! I'm going to be a ghost, and glide outfrom behind the shwubs, and fwighten them. I can do it beautifully. See!" She turned down the gas as she spoke, threw her light gauze skirtover her head, and came creeping across the room with stealthy tread, and arms outstretched, while Peggy clapped her hands in delight. 

"Lovely! Lovely! It looks exactly like wings. It makes me quitecreepy. Don't come out if Mellicent is alone, whatever you do. Shewould be scared out of her seven senses. Just float gently along towardthem, and keep your hands forward so as to hide your face. They willrecognise you if you don't. "

"Oh, if you can see my face, we must have less light. There are toomany candles, I'll put out the ones on the mantelpiece. Stay where youare, and tell me when it is wight, " Rosalind cried gaily, and ran acrossthe room on her tiny pink silk slippers. 

So long as she lived Peggy Saville remembered the next minutes; to thelast day of her life she had only to shut her eyes and the scene rose upbefore her, clear and vivid as in a picture. The stretch of empty room, with its fragrant banks of flowers; the graceful figure flitting acrossthe floor, its outline swathed in folds of misty white; the glimpse of alovely, laughing face as Rosalind stretched out her arm to reach thesilver candelabra, the sudden flare of light which caught the robe ofgauze, and swept it into flame. It all happened within the space of aminute, but it was one of those minutes the memory of which no years candestroy. She had hardly time to realise the terror of the situationbefore Rosalind was rushing towards her with outstretched hands, callingaloud in accents of frenzied appeal--

"Peggy! Peggy! Oh, save me, Peggy! I'm burning! Save me! Save me!"

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. 

A NIGHT OF TERROR. 

While the young folks had been enjoying themselves in the ballroom, their elders had found the time hang somewhat heavily on their hands. The evening had not been so interesting to them as to their juniors. Lady Darcy was tired with the preparations of the day, and the countesswith her journey from town. Both were fain to yawn behind their fansfrom time to time, and were longing for the moment to come when theycould retire to bed. If only those indefatigable children would saygood-night and take themselves off! But the echo of the piano stillsounded from the room, and seemed to go on and on, in endlessrepetition. 

Everything comes to those who wait, however--even the conclusion of aball to the weary chaperon. At long past midnight the strains diedaway, and in the hope of an early release the ladies roused themselvesto fresh conversational effort. What they said was unimportant, andcould never be remembered; but at one moment, as it seemed, they weresmiling and exchanging their little commonplace amenities, two languid, fine ladies whose aim in life might have been to disguise their ownfeelings and hide the hearts that God had given them; the next theartificial smiles were wiped away, and they were clinging together, twoterrified, cowering women, with a mother's soul in their faces--amother's love and fear and dread! A piercing cry had sounded throughthe stillness, and another, and another, and, while they sat paralysedwith fear, footsteps came tearing along the passage, the door was burstopen, and a wild, dishevelled-looking figure rushed into the room. Acurtain was wound round face and figure, but beneath its folds a longwhite arm gripped convulsively at the air, and two little feet staggeredabout in pink silk slippers. 

Lady Darcy gave a cry of anguish; but her terror seemed to hold herrooted to the spot, and it was her husband who darted forward and caughtthe swaying figure in his arms. The heavy wrappings came loose in hisgrasp, and as they did so an unmistakable smell pervaded the room--thesmell of singed and burning clothing. A cloud of blackened ragsfluttered to the ground as the last fold of the curtain was unloosed, and among them--most pitiful sight of all--were stray gleams of goldwhere a severed lock of hair lay on the carpet, its end still turned inglistening curl. 

"Rosalind! Rosalind!" gasped the poor mother, clutching the arms of herchair, and looking as if she were about to faint herself, as she gazedupon the pitiful figure of her child. The lower portion of Rosalind'sdress was practically uninjured, but the gauze skirt and all the frillsand puffing round the neck hung in tatters, her hair was singed androughened, and as the air touched her skin she screamed with pain, andheld her hands up to her neck and face. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh! I am burning! Cover me up! Cover me up! I shall die!Oh, mother, mother! The pain--the pain!"

She reeled as if about to faint, yet if anyone attempted to approach shebeat them off with frantic hands, as if in terror of being touched. 

One of the ladies ran forward with a shawl, and wrapped it forciblyround the poor scarred shoulders, while the gentlemen hurried out of theroom to send for a doctor and make necessary arrangements. One of thenumber came back almost immediately, with the news that he had failed todiscover the cause of the accident. There was no sign of fire upstairs, the ballroom was dark and deserted, the servants engaged in setting theentertaining rooms in order. For the present, at least, the cause ofthe accident remained a mystery, and the distracted father and motheroccupied themselves in trying to pacify their child. 

"I'll carry you upstairs, my darling. We will put something on yourskin which will take away the pain. Try to be quiet, and tell us how ithappened. What were you doing to set yourself on fire?"

"Peggy! Peggy!" gasped Rosalind faintly. Her strength was failing bythis time, and she could hardly speak; but Lady Darcy's face stiffenedinto an awful anger at the sound of that name. She turned like atigress to her husband, her face quivering with anger. 

"That girl again! That wicked girl! It is the second time to-night!She has killed the child; but she shall be punished! I'll have herpunished! She shall not kill my child, and go free! I'll--I'll--"

"Hush, hush, Beatrice! Take care! You frighten Rosalind. We must gether to bed. There is not a moment to lose. "

Lord Darcy beckoned to one of the servants, who by this time werecrowding in at the door, and between them they lifted poor, groaningRosalind in their arms, and carried her up the staircase, down which shehad tripped so gaily a few hours before. Tenderly as they held her, shemoaned with every movement, and, when she was laid on her bed, it seemedfor a moment as if consciousness were about to forsake her. Thensuddenly a light sprung into her eyes. She lifted her hand and gaspedout one word--just one word--repeated over and over again in a tone ofagonised entreaty. 

"Peggy! Peggy! Peggy!"

"Yes, darling, yes! I'll go to her. Be quiet--only be quiet!"

Lady Darcy turned away with a shudder as the maid and an old familyservant began the task of removing the clothes from Rosalind's writhinglimbs, and, seizing her husband by the arm, drew him out on the landing. Her face was white, but her eyes gleamed, and the words hissed as theyfell from her lips. 

"Find that girl, and turn her out of this house! I will not have herhere another hour! Do you hear--not a minute! Send her away at oncebefore I see her! Don't let me see her! I can't be responsible forwhat I would do!"

"Yes, yes, dear, I'll send her away! Try to calm yourself. Rememberyou have work to do Rosalind will need you. "

The poor old lord went stooping away, his tired face looking aged andhaggard with anxiety. His beautiful young daughter was scarcely lessdear to him than to her mother, and the sound of her cries cut to hisheart; yet in the midst of his anguish he had a pang of compassion forthe poor child who, as he believed, was the thoughtless cause of theaccident. What agony of remorse must be hers! What torture she wouldnow be suffering!

The guests and servants were standing huddled together on the landingupstairs, or running to and fro to procure what was needed. Everythought was concentrated on Rosalind, and Rosalind alone, and the partof the house where the dance had been held was absolutely deserted. 

He took his way along the gaily decorated hall, noted with absent eyethe disordered condition of the "harem, " which had been pointed out soproudly at the beginning of the evening, and entered the empty room. The lights were out, except for a few candles scattered here and thereamong the flowers. He walked slowly forward, saw the silver candlestickon the floor before the fireplace, and stood gazing at it with a quickappreciation of what had happened. For some reason or other Rosalindhad tried to reach the candle, and the light had caught her gauzy skirt, which had burst into flames. It was easy--terribly easy to imagine; butin what way had Peggy Saville been responsible for the accident, so thather name should sound so persistently on Rosalind's lips, --and who hadbeen the Good Samaritan who had come to the rescue with that thickcurtain which had killed the flames before they had time to finish thework of destruction?

Lord Darcy peered curiously round. The oak floor stretched before himdark and still, save where its polished surface reflected the lightoverhead; but surely in the corner opposite to where he stood there wasa darker mass--a shadow deeper than the rest?

He walked towards it, bending forward with straining eyes. Anothercurtain of the same pattern as that which had enveloped Rosalind--acurtain of rich Oriental hues with an unaccountable patch of white inthe centre. What was it? It must be part of the fabric itself. LordDarcy told himself that he had no doubt on the subject, yet the wayacross the room seemed unaccountably long, and his heart beat fast withapprehension. In another moment he stood in the corner, and knew toowell the meaning of that patch of white, for Peggy Saville lay stretchedupon the curtain, motionless, unconscious--to all appearance, dead!

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. 

THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 

It was one o'clock in the morning when a carriage drove up to the doorof the Larches, and Mrs Asplin alighted, all pale, tear-stained, andtremulous. She had been nodding over the fire in her bedroom when theyoung people had returned with the news of the tragic ending to thenight's festivity, and no persuasion or argument could induce her towait until the next day before flying to Peggy's side. 

"No, no!" she cried. "You must not hinder me. If I can't drive, I willwalk! I would go to the child to-night, if I had to crawl on my handsand knees! I promised her mother to look after her. How could I stayat home and think of her lying there? Oh, children, children, pray forPeggy! Pray that she may be spared, and that her poor parents may bespared this awful--awful news!"

Then she kissed her own girls, clasped them to her in a passionateembrace, and drove off to the Larches in the carriage which had broughtthe young people home. 

Lady Darcy came out to meet her, and gripped her hand in welcome. 

"You have come! I knew you would. I am so thankful to see you. Thedoctor has come, and will stay all night. He has sent for a nurse--"

"And--my Peggy?"

Lady Darcy's lips quivered. 

"Very, very ill--much worse than Rosalind! Her poor little arms! I wasso wicked, I thought it was her fault, and I had no pity, and now itseems that she has saved my darling's life. They can't tell us about ityet, but it was she who wrapped the curtain round Rosalind, and burnedherself in pressing out the flames. Rosalind kept crying, `Peggy!Peggy!' and we thought she meant that it was Peggy's fault. We hadheard so much of her mischievous tricks. My husband found her lying onthe floor. She was unconscious; but she came round when they weredressing her arms. I think she will know you--"

"Take me to her, please!" Mrs Asplin said quickly. She had to waitseveral moments before she could control her voice sufficiently to add, "And Rosalind, how is she?"

"There is no danger. Her neck is scarred, and her hair singed andburned. She is suffering from the shock, but the doctor says it is notserious. Peggy--"

She paused, and the other walked on resolutely, not daring to ask forthe termination of that sentence. She crept into the little room, bentover the bed, and looked down on Peggy's face through a mist of tears. It was drawn and haggard with pain, and the eyes met hers without a rayof light in their hollow depths. That she recognised was evident, butthe pain which she was suffering was too intense to leave room for anyother feeling. She lay motionless, with her bandaged arms stretchedbefore her, and her face looked so small and white against the pillowthat Mrs Asplin trembled to think how little strength was there tofight against the terrible shock and strain. Only once in all that longnight did Peggy show any consciousness of her surroundings, but then hereyes lit up with a gleam of remembrance, her lips moved, and Mrs Asplinbent down to catch the faintly whispered words--

"The twenty-sixth--next Monday! Don't tell Arthur!"

"`The twenty-sixth!' What is that, darling? Ah, I remember--Arthur'sexamination! You mean if he knew you were ill, it would upset him forhis work?"

An infinitesimal movement of the head answered "Yes, " and she gave thepromise in trembling tones--

"No, my precious, we won't tell him. He could not help, and it wouldonly distress you to feel that he was upset. Don't trouble about it, darling. It will be all right. "

Then Peggy shut her eyes and wandered away into a strange world, inwhich accustomed things disappeared, and time was not, and nothingremained but pain and weariness and mystery. Those of us who have comenear to death have visited this world too, and know the blackness of it, and the weary waking. 

Peggy lay in her little white bed, and heard voices speaking in her ear, and saw strange shapes flit to and fro. Quite suddenly, as it appeared, a face would be bending over her own, and as she watched it with languidcuriosity, wondering what manner of thing it could be, it would meltaway and vanish in the distance. At other times again it would growlarger and larger, until it assumed gigantic proportions, and she criedout in fear of the huge, saucer-like eyes. There was a weary puzzle inher brain, an effort to understand, but everything seemed mixed up andincomprehensible. She would look round the room and see the sunshinepeeping in through the chinks of the blinds, and when she closed hereyes for a moment--just a single fleeting moment--lo! the gas was lit, and someone was nodding in a chair by her side. And it was by no meansalways the same room. She was tired, and wanted badly to rest, yet shewas always rushing about here, there, and everywhere, striving vainly todress herself in clothes which fell off as soon as they were fastened, hurrying to catch a train to reach a certain destination; but in eachinstance the end was the same--she was falling, falling, falling--alwaysfalling--from the crag of an Alpine precipice, from the pinnacle of atower, from the top of a flight of stairs. The slip and the terrorpursued her wherever she went; she would shriek aloud, and feel softhands pressed on her cheeks, soft voices murmuring in her ear. 

One vision stood out plainly from those nightmare dreams--the vision ofa face which suddenly appeared in the midst of the big grey cloud whichenveloped her on every side--a beautiful face which was strangely like, and yet unlike, something she had seen long, long ago in a world whichshe had well-nigh forgotten. It was pale and thin, and the golden hairfell in a short curly crop on the blue garment which was swathed overthe shoulders. It was like one of the heads of celestial choir-boyswhich she had seen on Christmas cards and in books of engravings, yetsomething about the eyes and mouth seemed familiar. She stared at itcuriously, and then suddenly a strange, weak little voice faltered out awell-known name. 

"Rosalind!" it cried, and a quick exclamation of joy sounded from theside of the bed. Who had spoken? The first voice had been strangelylike her own, but at an immeasurable distance. She shut her eyes tothink about it, and the fair-haired vision disappeared, and was seen nomore. 

There was a big, bearded man also who came in from time to time, andPeggy grew to dread his appearance, for with it came terrible stabbingpain, as if her whole body were on the rack. He was one of the SpanishInquisitors, of whom she had read, and she was an English prisoner whomhe was torturing! Well, he might do his worst! She would die beforeshe would turn traitor and betray her flag and country. The Savilleswere a fighting race, and would a thousand times rather face death thandishonour. 

One day, when she felt rather stronger than usual, she told him so tohis face, and he laughed--she was quite sure he laughed, thehard-hearted wretch! And someone else said, "Poor little love!" whichwas surely an extraordinary expression for a Spanish Inquisitor. Thatwas one of the annoying things in this new life--people were soexceedingly stupid in their conversation! Now and again she herself hadsomething which she was especially anxious to say, and when she set itforth with infinite difficulty and pains the only answer which shereceived was a soothing, "Yes, dear, yes!"

"No, dear, no!" or a still more maddening, "Yes, darling, I quiteunderstand!"--which she knew perfectly well to be an untruth. Really, these good people seemed to think that she was demented, and did notknow what she was saying. As a matter of fact, it was exactly the otherway about; but she was too tired to argue. And then one day came asleep when she neither dreamt nor slipped nor fell, but opened her eyesrefreshed and cheerful, and beheld Mrs Asplin sitting by a tabledrinking tea and eating what appeared to be a particularly temptingslice of cake. 

"I want some cake!" she said clearly; and Mrs Asplin jumped as if acannon had been fired off at her ear, and rushed breathlessly to thebedside, stuttering and stammering in amazement--

"Wh-wh-wh-what?"

"Cake!" repeated Peggy shrilly. "I want some! And tea! I want mytea!"

Surely it was a very natural request! What else could you expect from agirl who had been asleep and wakened up feeling hungry? What on earthwas there in those commonplace words to make a grown-up woman cry like ababy, and why need everyone in the house rush in and stare at her as ifshe were a figure in a waxwork? Lord Darcy, Lady Darcy, Rosalind, theold French maid--they were all there--and, as sure as her name was PeggySaville, they were all four, handkerchief in hand, mopping their eyeslike so many marionettes!

Nobody gave her the cake for which she had asked. Peggy considered itexceedingly rude and ill-bred; but while she was thinking of it she grewtired again, and, rolling round into a soft little bundle among theblankets, fell afresh into sweet refreshing slumbers. 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. 

CONVALESCENCE. 

"Convalescence, " remarked Peggy elegantly, a week later on, "convalescence is a period not devoid of attraction!" She was lying ona sofa in her bedroom at the Larches, wrapped in her whitedressing-gown, and leaning against a nest of pink silk cushions, and, what with a table drawn up by her side laden with grapes and jelly, apile of Christmas numbers lying close at hand, and the presence of anaudience consisting of Rosalind, Lady Darcy, and Mrs Asplin, ready tolisten admiringly to her conversation, and to agree enthusiasticallywith every word she uttered, it did indeed seem as if the position wasone which might be endured with fortitude! Many were the questionswhich had been showered upon her since her return to consciousness, andthe listeners never grew tired of listening to her account of theaccident. How Rosalind had clutched too carelessly at the slendercandlestick, so that it had fallen forward, setting the gauze dress inflames, how she herself had flown out of the room, torn down thecurtains which draped the "harem, " and had flung them round the frantic, struggling figure. With every day that passed, however, Peggy gainedmore strength, and was petted to her heart's content by everyone in thehouse. The old lord kissed her fondly on the cheek, and murmured, "Godreward you, my brave girl, for I never can. " Lady Darcy shed tearsevery morning when the burns were dressed, and said, "Oh, Peggy dear, forgive me for being cross, and do, do be sure to use the lotion foryour arms regularly every day when you get better!" And the big doctorchucked her under the chin, and cried--

"Well, `Fighting Saville, ' and how are we to-day? You are the pluckiestlittle patient I've had for a long time. I'll say that for you! Let'shave another taste of the rack!" It was all most agreeable and soothingto one's feelings!

One of the first questions Peggy asked after her return to consciousnesswas as to how much her father and mother had been told of her accident, and whether the news had been sent by letter or cable. 

"By letter, dear, " Mrs Asplin replied. "We talked it over carefully, and concluded that that would be best. You know, dearie, we were very, very anxious about you for a few days, but the doctor said that it wouldbe useless cabling to your mother, because if all went well you would beup again before she could arrive, and if--if it had gone the other way, Peggy, she could not have been in time. I sent her a long letter, and Ihave written every mail since, and now we are going to calculate thetime when the first letter will arrive, and send a cable to say that youare quite out of danger, and sitting up, and getting hungrier and moremischievous with every day as it passes!"

"Thank you, " said Peggy warmly. "That's very kind. I am glad youthought of that; but will you please promise not to be economical aboutthe cable? They won't care about the money. Spend pounds over it if itis necessary, but do, do manage to make them believe that I am quiteperky. Put at the end, `Peggy says she is perky!' They will know thatis genuine, and it will convince them more than anything else. " And sothose five expressive words went flashing across the world at the end ofa long message, and brought comfort to two hearts that had been near tobreaking. 

So soon as Peggy was pronounced to be out of danger, Mrs Asplin wentback to the vicarage, leaving her in the charge of the kind hospitalnurse, though for that matter every member of the household took it inturns to wait upon her. A dozen times a day the master and mistress ofthe house would come into the sick-room to inquire how things weregoing, or to bring some little gift for the invalid; and as she grewstronger it became the custom for father, mother, and daughter to joinher at her early tea. Peggy watched them from her sofa, too weak tospeak much, but keenly alive to all that was going on, among otherthings, to the change which had come over these three persons since shehad known them first. Lord Darcy had always been kind and considerate, but his manner seemed gentler and more courteous than ever, whileRosalind's amiability was an hourly surprise, and Lady Darcy's mannerhad lost much of its snappish discontent. On one occasion, when herhusband made some little request, she replied in a tone so sweet andloving that the listener started with surprise. What could it be thathad worked this transformation? She did not realise that when the Angelof Death has hovered over a household, and has at last flown away withempty arms, leaving the home untouched, they would be hard hearts thatwere not touched, ungrateful natures that did not take thought ofthemselves, and face life with a higher outlook! Lady Darcy's socialdisappointments seemed light compared with the awful "might have been";while Rosalind's lamentations over her disfigurement had died away atthe sight of Peggy's unconscious form. Perhaps, when Lord Darcy thankedPeggy for all she had done for him and his, he had other thoughts in hismind than the mere physical deliverance of which she had been theinstrument!

Arthur had been kept well informed of his sister's recovery, and provedhimself the kindest of brothers, sending letters by the dozen, full ofsuch nonsensical jokes, anecdotes, and illustrations, as would havecheered the gloomiest invalid in the world. But the happiest day of allwas when the great news arrived that his name was placed first of all inthe list of successful candidates. This was indeed tidings of comfortand joy! Peggy clapped her bandaged hands together, and laughed aloudwith tears of pain streaming down her face. "Arthur Saville, V. C. , Arthur Saville, V. C. !" she cried, and then fell to groaning because somedays must still elapse before the medical examination was over, and herhero was set free to hasten to her side. 

"And I shall be back at the vicarage then, and we shall all be together!Oh, let us be joyful! How happy I am! What a nice old world it is, after all!" she continued hilariously, while Rosalind gazed at her withreproachful eyes. 

"Are you so glad to go away? I shall be vewy, vewy sowwy--I'll miss youawfully. I shall feel that there is nothing to do when you have goneaway, Peggy!"--Rosalind hesitated, and looked at her companion inuncertain bashful fashion. "I--I think you like me a little bit now, and I'm vewy fond of you, but you couldn't bear me before we were ill. You might tell me why?"

"I was jealous of you, " said Peggy promptly; whereat Rosalind's eyesfilled with tears. 

"You won't be jealous now!" she said dismally, and raised her head tostare at her own reflection in the mirror. The hair which had oncestreamed below her waist was now cut short round her head, her face hadlost its delicate bloom, and an ugly scar disfigured her throat and thelower portion of one cheek. Beautiful she must always be, with herfaultless features and wonderful eyes, but the bloom and radiance ofcolour which had been her chief charm had disappeared for the time beingas completely as though they had never existed. 

"I'll love you more, " said Peggy reassuringly. "You are ever so muchnicer, and you will be as pretty as ever when your hair grows and themarks fade away. I like you better when you are not _quite_ so pretty, for you really were disgustingly conceited; weren't you now? You can'tdeny it. "

"Oh, Peggy Saville, and so were you! I saw that the first moment youcame into the woom. You flared up like a Turkey cock if anyone dared tooffend your dignity, and you were always widing about on your highhorse, tossing your head, and using gweat long words. "

"That's pride, it's not conceit. It's quite a different thing. "

"It's about the same to other people, " said Rosalind shrewdly. "We bothgave ourselves airs, and the wesult was the same, whatever caused it. Iwas pwoud of my face, and you were pwoud of your--your--er--family--andyour cleverness, and--the twicks you played; so if I confess, you oughtto confess too. I'm sorry I aggwavated you, Mawiquita, and took all thepwaise for the decowations. It was howwibly mean, and I don't wonderyou were angwy. I'm sorry that I was selfish!"

"I exceedingly regret that I formed a false estimate of your character!Let's be chums!" said Peggy sweetly; and the two girls eyed one anotheruncertainly for a moment, then bent forward and exchanged a kiss ofconciliation, after which unusual display of emotion they were seizedwith instant embarrassment. 

"Hem!" said Peggy. "It's very cold! Fire rather low, I think. Looksas if it were going to snow. "

"No, " said Rosalind; "I mean--yes. I'll put on some more--I mean coals. In half an hour Esther and Mellicent will be here--"

"Oh, so they will! How lovely!" Peggy seized gladly on the newopening, and proceeded to enlarge on the joy which she felt at theprospect of seeing her friends again, for on that afternoon Robert andthe vicarage party were to be allowed to see her for the first time, andto have tea in her room. She had been looking forward to their visitfor days, and, new that the longed-for hour was at hand, she was eagerto have the lamps lit, and all preparations made for their arrival. 

Robert appeared first, having ridden over in advance of the rest. AndRosalind, after going out to greet him, came rushing back, all shakenwith laughter, with the information that he had begun to walk on tiptoethe moment that he had left the drawing-room, and was creeping along thepassage as if terrified at making a sound. 

Peggy craned her head, heard the squeak, squeak of boots coming nearerand nearer, the cautious opening of the door, the heavy breaths ofanxiety, and then, crash!--bang!--crash! down flopped the heavy screenround the doorway, and Rob was discovered standing among the ruins inagonies of embarrassment. From his expression of despair, he might havesupposed that the shock would kill Peggy outright; but she gulped downher nervousness, and tried her best to reassure him. 

"Oh, never mind--never mind! It doesn't matter. Come over here andtalk to me. Oh, Rob, Rob, I am so glad to see you!"

Robert stood looking down in silence, while his lips twitched and hiseyebrows worked in curious fashion. If it had not been altogether tooridiculous, Peggy would have thought that he felt inclined to cry. Buthe only grunted, and cried--

"What a face! You had better tuck into as much food as you can, and getsome flesh on your bones. It's about as big as the palm of my hand!Never saw such a thing in my life. "

"Never mind my face, " piped Peggy in her weak little treble. "Sit rightdown and talk to me. What is the news in the giddy world? Have youheard anything about the prize? When does the result come out?Remember you promised faithfully not to open the paper until we weretogether. I was so afraid it would come while I was too ill to look atit!"

"I should have waited, " said Robert sturdily. "There would have been nointerest in the thing without you; but the result won't be given for tendays yet, and by that time you will be with us again. The world hasn'tbeen at all giddy, I can tell you. I never put in a flatter time. Everybody was in the blues, and the house was like a tomb, and a jollyuncomfortable tomb at that. Esther was housekeeper while Mrs Asplinwas away, and she starved us! She was in such a mortal fright of beingextravagant that she could scarcely give us enough to keep body and soultogether, and the things we had were not fit to eat. Nothing but milkpuddings and stewed fruit for a week on end. Then we rebelled. Inipped her up in my arms one evening in the schoolroom, and stuck her onthe top of the little bookcase. Then we mounted guard around, and setforth our views. It would have killed you to see her perched up there, trying to look prim and to keep up her dignity. 

"`Let me down this moment, Robert. Bring a chair and let me get down. '

"`Will you promise to give us a pie to-morrow, then, and a decent sortof a pudding?'

"`It's no business of yours what I give you. You ought to be thankfulfor good wholesome food!'

"`Milk puddings are not wholesome. They don't agree with us--they aretoo rich! We should like something a little lighter for a change. Willyou swear off milk puddings for the next fortnight if I let you down?'

"`You are a cruel, heartless fellow, Robert Darcy--thinking of puddingswhen Peggy is ill, and we are all so anxious about her!'

"`Peggy would die at once if she heard how badly you were treating us. Now then, you have kept me waiting for ten minutes, so the price hasgone up. Now you'll have to promise a pair of ducks and mince-pies intothe bargain! I shall be ashamed of meeting a sheep soon, if we go oneating mutton every day of the week. '

"`Call yourself a gentleman!' says she, tossing her head and witheringme with a glance of scorn. 

"`I call myself a hungry man, and that's all we are concerned about forthe moment, ' said I. `A couple of ducks and two nailing good puddingsto-morrow night, or there you sit for the rest of the evening!'

"We went at it hammer and tongs until she was fairly spluttering withrage; but she had to promise before she came down, and we had no morestarvation diet after that. Oswald went up to town for a day, andbought a pair of blue silk socks and a tie to match--that's the greatestexcitement we have had. The rest has been all worry and grind, andMellicent on the rampage about Christmas presents. Oh, by the bye, Iprinted those photographs you wanted to send to your mother, and packedthem off by the mail a fortnight ago, so that she would get them in goodtime for Christmas. "

"Rob, you didn't! How noble of you! You really are an admirableperson!" Peggy lay back against her pillows and gazed at her "partner"in great contentment of spirit. After living an invalid's life forthese past weeks, it was delightfully refreshing to look at the bigstrong face. The sight of it was like a fresh breeze coming into theclose, heated room, and she felt as if some of his superabundant energyhad come into her own weak frame. 

A little later the vicarage party arrived, and greeted the twoconvalescents with warmest affection. If they were shocked at the sightof Rosalind's disfigurement and Peggy's emaciation, three out of thefour were polite enough to disguise their feelings; but it was too muchto expect of Mellicent that she should disguise what she happened to befeeling. She stared and gaped, and stared again, stuttering withconsternation--

"Why--why--Rosalind--your hair! It's shorter than mine! It doesn'tcome down to your shoulders! Did they cut it all off? What did you dowith the rest? And your poor cheek! Will you have that mark all yourlife?"

"I don't know. Mother is going to twy electwicity for it. It will fadea good deal, I suppose, but I shall always be a fwight. I'm twying towesign myself to be a hideous monster!" sighed Rosalind, turning herhead towards the window the while in such a position that the scar washidden from view, and she looked more like the celestial choir-boy ofPeggy's delirium than ever, with the golden locks curling round herneck, and the big eyes raised to the ceiling in a glance of patheticresignation. 

Rob guffawed aloud with the callousness of a brother; but the other twolads gazed at her with an adoring admiration which was balm to her vainlittle heart. Vain still, for a nature does not change in a day; and, though Rosalind was an infinitely more lovable person now than she hadbeen a few weeks before, the habits of a lifetime were still strong uponher, and she could never by any possibility be indifferent toadmiration, or pass a mirror without stopping to examine the progress ofthat disfiguring scar. 

"It wouldn't have mattered half so much if it had been Peggy's face thatwas spoiled, " continued Mellicent, with cruel outspokenness, "and it isonly her hands that are hurt. Things always go the wrong way in thisworld! I never saw anything like it. You know that night-dress bag Iwas working for mother, Peggy? Well, I only got two skeins of the bluesilk, and then if I didn't run short, and they hadn't any more in theshop. The other shades don't match at all, and it looks simply vile. Iam going to give it to--ahem! I mean that's the sort of thing thatalways happens to me--it makes me mad! You can't sew at all, I suppose?What do you do with yourself all day long, now that you are able to getup?"

Peggy's eyes twinkled. 

"I sleep, " she said slowly, "and eat, and sleep a little more, and eatagain, and talk a little bit, roll into bed, and fall fast asleep. _Voila tout, ma chere! C'est ca que je fais tous les jours_. "

Rosalind gave a shriek of laughter at Peggy's French, and Mellicentrolled her eyes to the ceiling. 

"How s-imply lovely!" she sighed. "I wish I were you! I'd like to goto bed in November and stay there till May. In a room like this, ofcourse, with everything beautiful and dainty, and a maid to wait uponme. I'd have a fire and an india-rubber hot-water bottle, and I'd lieand sleep, and wake up every now and then, and make the maid read aloud, and bring me my meals on a tray. Nice meals! Real, nice invalidythings, you know, to tempt my appetite. " Mellicent's eyes rolledinstinctively to the table, where the jelly and the grapes stoodtogether in tempting proximity. She sighed, and brought herself backwith an effort to the painful present. "Goodness, Peggy, how funny yourhands look! Just like a mummy! What do they look like when thebandages are off? Very horrible?"

"Hideous!" Peggy shrugged her shoulders and wrinkled her nose indisgust. "I am going to try to grow old as fast as I can, so that I canwear mittens and cover them up. I'm really rather distressed about it, because I am so--so addicted to rings, don't you know. They have been aweakness of mine all my life, and I've looked forward to having myfingers simply loaded with them when I grew up. There is one ofmother's that I especially admire--a big square emerald surrounded withdiamonds. She promised to give it to me on my twenty-first birthday, but, unless my hands look very different by that time, I shall not wantto call attention to them. Alack-a-day! I fear I shall never be ableto wear a ring--"

"Gracious goodness! Then you can never be married!" ejaculatedMellicent, in a tone of such horrified dismay as evoked a shriek ofmerriment from the listeners--Peggy's merry trill sounding clear abovethe rest. It was just delicious to be well again, to sit among hercompanions and have one of the old hearty laughs over Mellicent's quaintspeeches. At that moment she was one of the happiest girls in all theworld. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. 

ALAS, FOR ARTHUR!

A few days later Peggy was driven home to the vicarage, and stood thedrive so well that she was able to walk downstairs at tea-time, and sitat the table with only a cushion at her back, to mark her out as aninvalid just recovering from a serious illness. There was a specialreason why she wished to look well this afternoon, for Arthur wasexpected by the six o'clock train; and the candidate who had come outfirst in his examination lists must not have his reception chilled byanxiety or disappointment. 

Peggy was attired in her pink dress, and sat roasting before the fire, so as to get some colour into her cheeks. If her face were only thesize of the palm of a hand, she was determined that it should at leastbe rosy; and if she looked very bright, and smiled all the time, perhapsArthur would not notice how thin she had become. 

When half-past six struck, everyone crowded into the schoolroom, andpresently a cab drove up to the door, and a modest rap sounded on theknocker. 

"That's not Arthur!" cried Mrs Asplin confidently. "He knocks straighton without stopping, peals the bell at the same time, and shoutsChristmas carols through the letter-box! He has sent on his luggage, Iexpect, and is going to pounce in upon us later on. "

"Ah, no, that's not Arthur!" assented Peggy; but Mr Asplin turned hishead quickly towards the door, as if his ear had caught a familiar note, hesitated for a moment, and then walked quickly into the hall. 

"My dear boy!" the listeners heard him cry; and then another voice spokein reply--Arthur's voice--saying, "How do you do, sir?" in such flat, subdued tones as filled them with amazement. 

Mrs Asplin and Peggy turned towards each other with distended eyes. IfArthur had suddenly slid down the chimney and crawled out on the hearthbefore them, turned a somersault in at the window, or crawled frombeneath the table, it would have caused no astonishment whatever; butthat he should ring at the bell, walk quietly into the hall, and wait tohang up his hat like any other ordinary mortal, --this was indeed anunprecedented and extraordinary proceeding! The same explanation dartedinto both minds. His sister's illness! He was afraid of startling aninvalid, and was curbing his overflowing spirits in consideration forher weakness. 

Peggy rose from her chair, and stood waiting, with sparkling eyes andburning cheeks. He should see in one glance that she was better--almostwell--that there was no need of anxiety on her behalf. And then thetall, handsome figure appeared in the doorway, and Arthur's voicecried--

"Peggikens! Up and dressed! This is better than I hoped. How are you, dear little Peg?"

There was something wrong with the voice, something lacking in thesmile; but his sister was too excited to notice it. She stretched outher arms towards him, and raised her weak, quavering little voice in asong of triumph--

"See-ee the conquering he-he-he-he-hero com-ums! Sow-ow-ow-ow-ownd thetrumpet, play--a--a--a--"

"Don't, Peg!" cried Arthur sharply. "Don't, dear!" He was standing byher side by this time, and suddenly he wrapped his arms round her andlaid his curly head on hers. "I'm plucked, Peg!" he cried, and hisvoice was full of tears. "Oh, Peg, I'm plucked! It's all over; I cannever be a soldier. I'm plucked--plucked--plucked!"

"Arthur dear! Arthur darling!" cried Peggy loudly. She clasped herarms round his neck, and glared over his shoulder, like a tigress whoseyoung has been threatened with danger. "You plucked! My brotherplucked! Ho! ho! ho!" She gave a shrill peal of laughter. "It'simpossible! You were first of all, the very first. You always arefirst. Who was wicked enough, and cruel enough, and false enough, tosay that Arthur Saville was plucked in an examination?"

"Arthur, my boy, what is it? What does it mean? You told us you werefirst. How can you possibly be plucked?"

"My--my eyes!" said Arthur faintly. He raised his head from Peggy'sshoulder and looked round with a haggard smile. "The medical exam. They would not pass me. I was rather blind when I was here before, butI thought it was with reading too much. I never suspected there wasanything really wrong--never for a moment!"

"Your eyes!" The vicar pressed his hand to his forehead, as if unableto grasp this sudden shattering of his hopes. "But--but I don'tunderstand! Your eyes never gave you any trouble when you were here. You were not short-sighted. One knew, of course, that good sight wasnecessary; but there seemed no weakness in that direction. I can'timagine any cause that can have brought it on. "

"I can!" said Arthur drearily. "I got a bad knock at lacrosse two yearsago. I didn't tell you about it, for it wasn't worth while; but my eyeswere bad for some time after that. I thought they were all right again;but I had to read a lot of things across a room, and made a poor show ofit. Then the doctor took me to a window and pointed to an omnibus thatwas passing. 

"`What's the name on that 'bus?' he said. `What is the colour of thatwoman's hat? How many horses are there?'

"I guessed. I couldn't see. I made a shot at it, and it was a wrongshot. He was a kind old chap. I think he was sorry for me. I--I cameout into the street, and walked about. It was very cold. I tried towrite to you, but I couldn't do it--I couldn't put it down in black andwhite. No V. C. Now, little Peg! That's all over. You will have acivilian for your brother, after all!"

He bent down to kiss the girl's cheeks as he spoke, and she threw herarms round his neck and kissed him passionately upon his closed eyelids. 

"Dear eyes!" she cried impetuously. "Oh, dear eyes! They are thedearest eyes in all the world, whatever anyone says about them. Itdoesn't matter what you are--you are my Arthur, the best and cleverestbrother in all the world. Nobody is like you!"

"You have a fine career before you still, my boy! You will alwaysfight, I hope, and conquer enemies even more powerful than armed men!"cried Mrs Asplin, trembling. "There are more ways than one of being asoldier, Arthur!"

"I know it, mater, " said the young man softly. He straightened his backand stood in silence, his head thrown back, his eyes shining withemotion, as fine a specimen of a young English gentleman as one couldwish to meet. "I know it, " he repeated, and Mrs Asplin turned aside tohide her tears. "Oh, my pretty boy!" she was saying to herself. "Oh, my pretty boy! And I'll never see him in his red coat, riding his horselike a prince among them all! I'll never see the medals on his breast!Oh, my poor lad that has the fighting blood in his veins! It's liketearing the heart out of him to turn Arthur Saville into anything but asoldier. And the poor father--what will he say at all, when he hearsthis terrible news?" She dared not trust herself to speak again; theothers were too much stunned and distressed to make any attempt atconsolation, and it was a relief to all when Mellicent's calm, matter-of-fact treble broke the silence. 

"Well, for my part, I'm very glad!" she announced slowly. "I'm sorry, of course, if he has to wear spectacles, because they are not becoming, but I'm glad he is not going to be a soldier. I think it's silly havingnothing to do but drill in barracks, and pretending to fight when thereis no one to fight with. I should hate to be a soldier in times ofpeace, and it would be fifty thousand times worse in war. Oh, mygoodness, shouldn't I be in a fright! I should run away--I know Ishould; but Arthur would be in the front of every battle, and it'sabsurd to think that he would not get killed. You know what Arthur is!Did you ever know him have a chance of hurting himself and not takingit? He would be killed in the very first battle--that's my belief--and_then_ you would be sorry that you wanted him to be a soldier! Or, ifhe wasn't killed, he would have his legs shot off. Last time I was inLondon I saw a man with no legs. He was sitting on a little board withwheels on it, and selling matches in the street. Well, I must say I'drather have my brother a civilian, as you call it, than have no legs, orbe cut in pieces by a lot of nasty naked old savages. "

A general smile went round the company. There was no resisting it. Even Arthur's face brightened, and he turned his head and looked atMellicent with his old twinkling smile. 

"Bravo, Chubby!" he cried. "Bravo, Chubby! Commend me to Mellicent forgood, sound commonsense. The prospect of squatting on a board, sellingmatches, is not exhilarating, I must confess. I'm glad there is oneperson at least who thinks my prospects are improved. " He gave a littlesigh, which was stifled with praiseworthy quickness. "Well, the worstis over, now that I have told you and written the letter to India. Those were the two things that I dreaded most. Now I shall just have toface life afresh, and see what can be made of it. I must have a talkwith you, sir, later on, and get your advice. Cheer up, Peggikens!Cheer up, mater! It's no use grieving over spilt milk, and Christmas iscoming. It would never do to be in the dolefuls over Christmas! I'vegot a boxful of presents upstairs--amused myself with buying themyesterday to pass the time. You come up with me to-night, Peg, and I'llgive you a peep. You look better than I expected, dear, but fearsomescraggy! We shall have to pad her out a bit, shan't we, mater? Shemust have an extra helping of plum-pudding this year. "

He rattled on in his own bright style, or in as near an imitation of itas he could manage, and the others tried their best to follow hisexample and make the evening as cheery as possible. Once or twice thejoy of being all together again in health and strength conquered theunderlying sorrow, and the laughter rang out as gaily as ever; but thenext moment Arthur would draw in his breath with another of those short, stabbing sighs, and Peggy would shiver, and lie back trembling among herpillows. She had no heart to look at Christmas presents that night, butArthur carried her upstairs in his strong arms, laid her on her bed, andsat beside her for ten minutes' precious private talk. 

"It's a facer, Peg, " he said. "I can't deny it's a facer. When Iwalked out of that doctor's room I felt as weak as a child. The shockknocked the strength out of me. I had never thought of anything elsebut being a soldier, you see, and it's a strange experience to have toface life afresh, with everything that you had expected taken out of it, and nothing ahead but blankness and disappointment. I've been so strongtoo--as strong as a horse. If it hadn't been for that blow--well, it'sover! It's a comfort to me to feel that it was not my own fault. IfI'd been lazy or careless, and had failed in the exam. , it would havedriven me crazy; but this was altogether beyond my control. It isfrightfully rough luck, but I don't mean to howl--I must make the bestof what's left!"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you will. You have begun well, for I think you havebeen wonderfully brave and courageous about it, Arthur dear!"

"Well, of course!" said Arthur softly. "I always meant to be that, Peg;and, as the mater says, it is only another kind of battle. The otherwould have been easier, but I mean to fight still. I am not going togive up all my dreams. You shall be proud of me yet, though not in theway you expected. "

"I never was so proud of you in my life!" Peggy cried. "Never in allmy life. "

Long after Arthur had kissed her and gone to his own room she lay awake, thinking of his words and of the expression on his handsome face as thefirelight played on moistened eye and trembling lip. "I mean to fight. "

"You shall be proud of me yet. " The words rang in her ears, and wouldnot be silenced. When she fell asleep Arthur was still by her side; themarks of tears were on his face. He was telling her once more the storyof disappointment and failure; but she could not listen to him, for hereyes were fixed on something that was pinned on the breast of his coat--a little cross with two words printed across its surface. 

In her dream Peggy bent forward, and read those two words with a greatrush of joy and exultation. 

"For Valour!"

"For Valour!" Yes, yes, it was quite true! Never was soldier flushedwith victory more deserving of that decoration than Arthur Saville inhis hour of disappointment and failure. 

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. 

THE PARTING OF THE WAYS!

Arthur kept his word, and tried manfully not to let his owndisappointment interfere with the enjoyment of Christmas Day. 

The party at the vicarage was smaller than usual, for Rob and Oswald hadboth gone home for the festive season, and he knew well that theknowledge that "Arthur was coming" had seemed the best guarantee of amerry day to those who were left. 

Peggy too--poor little Peg, with her bandaged hands and tiny whiteface--it would never do to grieve her by being depressed and gloomy!

"Begone, dull care!" cried Arthur to himself then, when he awoke onChristmas morning, and, promptly wrapping himself in his dressing-gown, he sallied out on to the landing, where he burst into the strains of"Christians, awake!" with such vigorous brush-and-comb accompaniment onthe panels of the doors as startled the household out of their dreams. 

"Miserable boy! I was having such a lovely nap! I'll never forgiveyou!" cried Mrs Asplin's voice, in sleepy wrath. 

"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!" shouted the girls; and Peggy'sclear pipe joined in last of all. "And many of them! Come in! Comein! I was lying awake and longing to see you!"

Arthur put his ruffled head round the door and beamed at the littlefigure in the bed, as if he had never known a trouble in his life. 

"What a wicked story! I heard you snore. Merry Christmas, Peg, and aHappy New Year! And don't you go for to do it again never no more!It's a jolly morning. I'll take you out for a toddle in the garden whenwe come home from church, if you are a good girl. Will you have yourpresent now, or wait till you get it? It begins with a B. I love mylove with a B, because she's a--"

"Oh, Arthur!" interrupted Peggy regretfully. "I haven't half such anice present for you as I expected. You see I couldn't work anything, and I couldn't get out to the shops, and I hadn't nearly as much moneyas I expected either. If Rob and I had won that prize, I should havehad ten pounds; but the stupid editors have put off announcing theresult week after week. They say there were so many competitors; butthat's no consolation, for it makes our chance less. I do hope it maybe out next week. But, at any rate, I didn't get my ten pounds in time, and there I was, you see, with little money and practically no hands--a--er--a most painful contingency, which I hope it may never be your lotto experience. You must take the will for the deed. "

"Oh, I will!" agreed Arthur promptly. "I'll take the will now, and youcan follow up with the deed as soon as you get the cash. But no morejourneys up to London, my dear, if you love me, and don't use such bigwords before seven o'clock in the morning, or you'll choke. It's badfor little girls to exert themselves so much. Now I'm going to skateabout in the bath for a bit, and tumble into my clothes, and then I'llcome back and give you a lift downstairs. You are coming down forbreakfast, I suppose?"

"Rather! On Christmas morning! I should just think I was!" cried Peggyemphatically; and Arthur went off to the bathroom, calling in at Max'sroom _en route_, to squeeze a sponge full of water over that younggentleman's head, and pull the clothes off the bed, by way of givingemphasis to his, "Get up, you lazy beggar! It's the day afterto-morrow, and the plum-pudding is waiting!"

Peggy was the only one of the young folks who did not go to church thatmorning; but she was left in charge of the decorations for thedinner-table, and when this was finished there was so much to thinkabout that the time passed all too quickly. 

Last year she and Arthur had spent Christmas with their mother; now bothparents were away in India, and everything was strange and altered. AsPeggy sat gazing into the heart of the big gloomy fire, it seemed to herthat the year that was passing away would end a complete epoch in herbrother's experiences and her own, and that from this hour a new chapterwould begin. She herself had come back from the door of death, and hadlife given, as it were, afresh into her hands. Arthur's longed-forcareer had been checked at its commencement, and all his plans laidwaste. Even the life in the vicarage would henceforth take newconditions, for Rob and Oswald would go up to Oxford at the beginning ofthe term, and their place be filled by new pupils. There was somethingsolemnising in the consciousness of change which filled the air. Onecould never tell what might be the next development. Nothing was toounexpected to happen--since Arthur's success had ended in failure, andshe herself had received Rosalind's vows of love and friendship. 

"Good things have happened as well as bad, " acknowledged Peggy honestly;"but how I do hate changes! The new pupils may be the nicest boys inthe world, but no one will ever--ever be like Rob, and I'd rather Arthurhad been a soldier than anything in the wide world. I wish one could goon being young for ever and ever. It's when you grow old that all thesetroubles and changes come upon you. " And Peggy sighed and wagged herhead, oppressed with the weight of fifteen years. 

It was a relief to hear the clatter of horses' hoofs, and the sound ofvoices in the hall, which proved that the church-goers had returnedhome. Mr and Mrs Asplin had been driven home from church by Lord andLady Darcy, and the next moment they were in the room, and greetingPeggy with demonstrative affection. 

"We couldn't go home without coming to see you, dear, " said Lady Darcyfondly. "Rosalind is walking with the rest, and will be here in a fewminutes. A merry Christmas to you, darling, and many, many of them. I've brought you a little present which I hope you will like. It's abangle bracelet--quite a simple one that you can wear every day--and youmust think of me sometimes when you put it on. "

She touched the spring of a little morocco case as she spoke, and thereon the satin lining lay a band of gold, dependent from which hung thesweetest little locket in the world--heart-shaped, studded with pearls, and guarding a ring of hair beneath the glass shield. 

Lady Darcy pointed to it in silence--her eyes filling with tears, asthey invariably did on any reference to Rosalind's accident, and Peggy'scheeks flushed with pleasure. 

"I can't thank you! I really can't, " she said. "It is too lovely. Youcouldn't possibly have given me anything I liked better. I have apredilection for jewellery, and the little locket is too sweet, danglingon that chain! I do love to have something that waggles!" She held upher arm as she spoke, shaking the locket to and fro with a childlikeenjoyment, while the two ladies watched her with tender amusement. LordDarcy had not spoken since his first greeting, but now he came forward, and linking his arm in Peggy's led her to the farther end of the room. 

"I have no present for you, my dear--I could not think of one that wasgood enough--but yesterday I really think I hit on something that wouldplease you. Robert told us how keenly you were feeling your brother'sdisappointment, and that he was undecided what to try next. Now, Ibelieve I can help him there. I have influence in the Foreign Office, and can ensure him an opening when he is ready for it, if your fatheragrees that it is desirable. Would that please you, Peggy? If I canhelp your brother, will it go some little way towards paying the debt Iowe you?"

"Oh-h!" cried Peggy rapturously. "Oh!" She clasped Lord Darcy's handsin her own and gazed at him with dilated eyes. "Can you do it? Willyou do it? There is nothing in all the world I should like so much. Help Arthur--give him a good chance--and I shall bless you for ever andever! I could never thank you enough--"

"Well, well, I will write to your father and see what he has to say. Ican promise the lad a start at least, and after that his future will bein his own hands, where I think we may safely leave it. Master Arthuris one of the fortunate being's who has an `open sesame' to all hearts. Mr Asplin assures me that he is as good at work as at play; I have notseen that side of his character, but he has always left a most pleasingimpression on my mind, most pleasing. " The old lord smiled to himself, and his eyes took a dreamy expression, as if he were recalling to memorythe handsome face and strong manly presence of the young fellow of whomhe was speaking. "He has been a favourite at our house for some yearsnow, and I shall be glad to do him a service; but remember, Peggy, thatwhen I propose this help, it is, in the first instance at least, foryour sake, not his. I tell you this because I think it will give youpleasure to feel that you have been the means of helping your brother. Talk it over with him some time when you are alone together, and then hecan come up and see me. To-day we must leave business alone. Here theycome! I thought they would not be long after us--"

Even as he spoke voices sounded from the hall, there was a clatter offeet over the tiled flooring, and Mellicent dashed into the room. 

"P-P-P-Postman!" she stammered breathlessly. "He is coming! Round thecorner! Heaps of letters! Piles of parcels! A hand-cart, and a boy tohelp him! Here in five minutes! Oh! oh! oh!" She went rushing back tothe door, and Rosalind came forward, looking almost her old beautifulself, with her cheeks flushed by the cold air, and the fur collar of herjacket turned up so as to hide the scarred cheek. 

"Merry Christmas, Rosalind! How--how nice you look!" cried Peggy, looking up and down the dainty figure with more pleasure in the sightthan she could have believed possible a few weeks before. After beingaccustomed for four long weeks to gaze at those perfectly cut features, Esther's long chin and Mellicent's retrousse nose had been quite a trialto her artistic sensibilities on her return to the vicarage. It waslike having a masterpiece taken down from the walls and replaced by aninferior engraving. She gave a sigh of satisfaction as she looked oncemore at Rosalind's face. 

"Mewwy Chwistmas, Peggy! I've missed you fwightfully. I've not been tochurch, but I dwove down to meet the others, and came to see you. I hadto see you on Chwistmas Day. I've had lovely pwesents, and there aremore to come. Mother has given you the bwacelet, I see. Is it what youlike?"

"My dear, I love it. I'm fearfully addicted to jewellery. I had to putit on at once, and it looks quite elegant on top of the bandages! I'minexpressibly obliged. I've got heaps of things--books, scent, glove-box, writing-case, a big box coming from India, and--don't tellher--an apron from Mellicent! The most awful thing. I can't thinkwhere she found it. Yellow cloth with dog-roses worked in filoselle!Imagine me in a yellow apron with spotty roses around the brim!"

"He! he! I can't! I weally can't. It's too widiculous!" protestedRosalind. "She sent me a twine bag made of netted cotton. It's awfullyuseful if you use twine, but I never do. Don't say I said so. Who gotthe night-dwess bag with the two shades of blue that didn't match?"

"Esther! You should have seen her face!" whispered Peggy roguishly, andthe girls went into peals of laughter, which brought Robert hurryingacross the room to join them. 

"Now then, Rosalind; when you have quite done, I should like to speak toPeggy. The compliments of the season to you, Mariquita; I hope I seeyou well. "

Peggy pursed up her lips, and looked him up and down with her dancinghazel eyes. 

"Most noble sir, the heavens rain blessings on you--Oh, my goodness, there's the postman!" she said all in one breath; and the partnersdarted forward side by side towards the front door, where the oldpostman was already standing, beaming all over his weatherbeaten face, as he began turning out the letters and calling out the names on theenvelopes. 

"Asplin, Asplin, Saville, Asplin, Saville, Saville, Miss Peggy Saville, Miss Mellercent Asplin, Miss Saville, Miss M. Saville, Miss PeggySaville. "

So the list ran on, with such a constant repetition of the same namethat Max exclaimed in disgust, "Who _is_ this Miss Peggy Saville that wehear so much about? She's a greedy thing, whoever she may be;" andMellicent whined out, "I wish I had been at a boarding-school! I wishmy relatives lived abroad. There will be none left for me by the timeshe has finished. " Then Arthur thrust forward his mischievous face, andput in a stern inquiry--

"Forbes! Where's that registered letter? That letter with thehundred-pound note. Don't say you haven't got it, for I know better. Hand it over now, without any more bother. "

The old postman gave a chuckle of amusement, for this was a standingjoke renewed every Christmas that Arthur had spent at the vicarage. 

"'Tasn't come ter-day, Muster Saville. Missed the post. 'Twill becoming ter-morrer morning certain!"

"Forbes!" croaked Arthur solemnly. "Reflect! You have a wife andchildren. This is a serious business. It's ruin, Forbes, that's whatit is. R-u-i-n, my friend! Be advised by me, and give it up. Thehundred pounds is not worth it, and besides I need it badly. Don'tdeprive a man of his inheritance!"

"Bless yer rart, I'd bring it yer with pleasure rif I could! Nobody'dbring it quicker ran I would!" cried Forbes, who like everyone elseadored the handsome young fellow who was always ready with a joke and akindly word. "It's comin' for the Noo Year, sir. You mark my words. There's a deal of luck waitin' for yer in the Noo Year!"

Arthur's laugh ended in a sigh, but he thanked the old man for his goodwishes, tipped him even more lavishly than usual, and followed hiscompanions to the drawing-room to examine their treasures. 

Parcels were put on one side to await more leisurely inspection, butcards and letters were opened at once, and Rob seated himself by Peggy'sside as she placed the pile of envelopes on a table in the corner. 

"We are partners, you know, " he reminded her, "so I think I am entitledto a share in these. What a lot of cards! Who on earth are thesenders?"

"My godfathers, and my godmothers, and all my relatives and friends. The girls at school and some of the teachers. This fat one is from`Buns'--Miss Baker, the one whose Sunday hat I squashed. She used tosay that I was sent to her as wholesome discipline, to prevent her beingtoo happy as a hard-worked teacher in a ladies' school, but she weptbucketfuls when I came away. I liked Buns! This is from MarjorieRiggs, my chum. She had a squint, but a most engaging disposition. This is from Kate Strong: now if there is a girl in the world for whom Icherish an aversion, it is Katie Strong! She is what I call a speciouspig, and why she wanted to send me a Christmas card I simply can'timagine. We were on terms of undying hatred. This is from Miss Moss, the pupil teacher. She had chilblains, poor dear, and spoke through herdose. `You busn't do it, Peggy, you really busn't. It's bost adoying!'Then I did it again, you know, and she sniggered and tried to lookcross. This is--I don't know who this is from! It's a man's writing. It looks like a business letter--London postmark--and something printedin white on the seal. What is it? `The Pic-Pic-Piccadilly'--Robert!"Peggy's voice grew shrill with excitement. "_The Piccadilly Magazine_. "

"Wh-at!" Robert grabbed at the envelope, read the words himself, andstared at her with sparkling eyes. "It is! It's the prize, Mariquita!It must be. What else would they write about? Open it and see. Quick!Shall I do it for you?"

"Yes, yes!" cried Peggy breathlessly. She craned her head forward asRob tore open the envelope, and grasped his arm with both hands. Together they read the typewritten words, together they gasped andpanted, and shrieked aloud in joy. "We've done it! We have! We've wonthe prize! Thirty pounds! Bravo, Rob! Now you can buy yourmicroscope!"--"Good old Mariquita, it's all your doing. Don't speak tous; we are literary people, far above ordinary commonplace creatureslike you. Thir-ty pounds! made by our own honest toil. What do youthink of that, I'd like to know?"

Each member of the audience thought something different, and said itamid a scene of wild excitement. The elders were pleased and proud, though not above improving the occasion by warnings against secret work, over-anxiety, midnight journeys, etcetera. Mellicent exclaimed, "Howjolly! Now you will be able to give presents for the New Year as wellas Christmas;" and Arthur said, "Dear Peggums! I always loved you; Itook the `will, ' you know, without any grumbling, and now you can followup with the deed as quickly as you like!" Each one wanted to hold theprecious document in his own hands, to read it with his own eyes, and itwas handed round and round to be exclaimed over in accents of wonder andadmiration, while Rob beamed, and Peggy tossed her pigtail over hershoulder, holding her little head at an angle of complacentsatisfaction. 

The moment of triumph was very sweet--all the sweeter because of thesorrows of the last few weeks. The partners forgot all the hard work, worry, and exhaustion, and remembered only the joy of success and hopefulfilled. Robert said little in the way of thanks, preferring to waituntil he could tell Peggy of his gratitude without an audience tocriticise his words; but when his mother began to speak of leaving, itwas he who reminded Mrs Asplin of the promise that the invalid shouldhave her first walk on Christmas Day. 

"Let us go on ahead, and take her with us until the carriage overtakesus. It will do her no harm. It's bright and dry--"

"Oh, mater, yes! I told Peg I would take her out, " chimed in Arthur, starting from his seat by Rosalind's side, and looking quite distressedbecause he had momentarily forgotten his promise. "Wrap her up well, and we'll take care of her. The air will do her good. "

"I think it will, but you must not go far--not an inch beyond thecrossroads. Come, Peggy, and I'll dress you myself. I can't trust youto put on enough wraps. " Mrs Asplin whisked the girl out of the room, and wrapped her up to such an extent that when she came downstairs againshe could only puff and gasp above her muffler, declare that she waschoking, and fan herself with her muff. Choking or not, the eyes of thecompanions brightened as they looked at her, for the scarlettam-o'-shanter was set at a rakish angle on the dark little head, andPeggy the invalid seemed to have made way for the Peggy of old, withdimpling cheeks and the light of mischief in her eyes. 

The moment that Mrs Asplin stopped fumbling with her wraps, she was outat the door, opening her mouth to drink in the fresh chill air, andRobert was at her side before anyone had a chance of superseding him. 

"Umph! Isn't it good? I'm stifling for a blow. My lungs are sore forwant of exercise. I was longing, longing to get out. Robert, do yourealise it? We have won the prize! Can you believe it? It is almosttoo good to be true. It's the best present of all. Now you can buyyour microscope, and get on with your work as you never could before!"

"Yes, and it's all your doing, Mariquita. I could not have pulled itoff without your help. If I make anything out of my studies, it will beyour doing too. I'll put it down to you, and thank you for it all mylife. "

"H-m! I don't think I deserve so much praise, but I like it. It's verysoothing, " said Peggy reflectively. "I'm very happy about it, and Ineeded something to make me happy, for I felt as blue as indigo thismorning. We seem to have come to the end of so many things, and I hateends. There is this disappointment about Arthur, which spoils all theold plans, and the break-up of our good times here together. I shallmiss Oswald. He was a dear old dandy, and his ties were quite anexcitement in life; but I simply can't imagine what the house will belike without you, Rob!"

"I shall be here for some weeks every year, and I'll run down for a dayor two whenever I can. It won't be good-bye. "

"I know--I know! but you will never be one of us again, living in thehouse, joining in all our jokes. It will be quite a different thing. And you will grow up so quickly at Oxford, and be a man before we knowwhere we are. "

"So will you--a woman at least. You are fifteen in January. Atseventeen, girls put their hair up and wear long dresses. You will lookolder than I do, and give yourself as many airs as if you were fifty. Iknow what girls of seventeen are like. I've met lots of them, and theysay, `That boy!' and toss their heads as if they were a dozen yearsolder than fellows of their own age. I expect you will be as bad as therest, but you needn't try to snub me. I won't stand it. "

"You won't have a chance, for I shan't be here. As soon as my educationis finished I am going out to India, to stay until father retires and wecome home to settle. So after to-day--"

"After to-day--the deluge! Peggy, I didn't tell you before, but I'm offto-morrow to stay in town until I go up to Oxford on the fourteenth. The pater wants to have me with him, so I shan't see you again for somemonths. Of course I am glad to be in town for most things, but--"

"Yes, but!" repeated Peggy, and turned a wan little face upon him. "Oh, Rob, it is changing quickly I never thought it would be so soon as this. So it is good-bye. No wonder I felt so blue this morning. It isgood-bye for ever to the old life. We shall meet again, oh yes! but itwill be different. Some day when I'm old and grown-up I will see in anewspaper the name of a distinguished naturalist and discoverer, andsay, `I used to know him once. He was not at all proud. He used topull my hair like any ordinary mortal. '

"Some day I shall enter a ballroom, and see a little lady sitting by thedoor waving her hands in the air, and using words a mile long, and shallsay to myself, `Do my eyes deceive me? Is it indeed the Peggy Pickle ofthe Past?' and my host will say, `My good sir, that is the world-famousauthoress, Mariquita de Ponsonby Plantagenet Saville!' Stevenson, Iassure you, is not in it for flow of language, and she is so proud ofherself that she won't speak to anyone under a belted earl. "

"That sounds nice!" said Peggy approvingly. "I should like that; but itwouldn't be a ball, you silly boy--it would be a conversazione, whereall the clever and celebrated people of London were gathered together, `To have the honour of meeting Miss Saville. ' There would be quite anumber of people whom we knew among the Lions. A very grand LadySomebody or other, the beauty of the season--Rosalind, ofcourse--all sparkling with diamonds, and leaning on the arm of adistinguished-looking gentleman with orders on his breast. That'sArthur. I'm determined that he shall have orders. It's the only thingthat could reconcile me to the loss of the Victoria Cross, and adress-coat is so uninteresting without trimmings! A fat lady would besitting in a corner prattling about half a dozen subjects all in onemoment--that's Mellicent; and a tall, lean lady in spectacles would beimparting useful information to a dandy with an eyeglass stuck in oneeye--that's Esther and Oswald! Oh dear, I wonder--I wonder--I wonder!It's like a story-book, Rob, and we are at the end of the first volume. How much shall we have to do with each other in the second and third;and what is going to happen next, and how, and when?"

"We--we have to part, that's the next thing, " said Rob sadly. "Herecomes the carriage, and Arthur is shouting for us to stop. It'sgood-bye, for the present, Mariquita; there's no help for it!"

"At the crossroads!" said Peggy slowly, her eye wandering to thesign-board which marked the paths branching north, south, east, andwest. She stopped short and stood gazing into his face, her eyes bigand solemn, the wind blowing her hair into loose little curls beneathher scarlet cap, her dramatic mind seizing eagerly on the significanceof the position. "At the crossroads, Rob, to go our different ways!Good-bye, good-bye! I hate to say it. You--you won't forget me, andlike the horrid boys at college better than me, will you, Rob?"

Robert gave a short, strangled little laugh. 

"I think--not! Cheer up, partner! We will meet again, and have abetter time together than we have had yet. The third volume is alwaysmore exciting than the first. I say we shall, and you know when I makeup my mind to a thing, it has to be done!"

"Ah, but how?" sighed Peggy faintly. "But how?" Vague prophecies ofthe future were not much comfort to her in this moment of farewell. Shewanted something more definite; but Rob had no time to enter intodetails, for even as she spoke the carriage drew up beside them, and, while the occupants congratulated Peggy on having walked so far and sowell, he could only grip her hand, and take his place in silence besidehis sister. 

Lady Darcy bent forward to smile farewell; Rosalind waved her hand, andthen they were off again, driving swiftly homewards, while Peggy stoodwatching, a solitary figure upon the roadside. 

Arthur and his companions hurried forward to join her, afraid lest sheshould be tired, and overcome with grief by the parting with her friendand partner. 

"Poor little Peg! She won't like it a bit, " said Arthur. "She'scrying! I'm sure she is. "

"She is putting her handkerchief to her eyes, " said Mellicent. 

"We will give her an arm apiece, and take her straight back, " said Maxanxiously. "It's a shame to have left the poor little soul alone!"

They stared with troubled eyes at the little figure which stood with itsback turned towards them, in an attitude of rigid stillness. There wassomething pathetic about that stillness, with just the flutter of thetell-tale handkerchief, to hint at the quivering face that was hiddenfrom view. The hearts of Peggy's companions were very tender over herat that moment; but even as they planned words of comfort and cheer, shewheeled round suddenly and walked back to meet them. 

It was an unusually mild morning for the season of the year, and the sunwas shining from a cloudless sky. Its rays fell full upon Peggy's faceas she advanced--upon reddened eyes, trembling lips, and two large tearstrickling down her cheeks. It was undeniable that she was crying, butshe carried her head well back upon her shoulders, rather courting thanavoiding observation, and as she drew nearer it became abundantlyevident that Peggy had retired in honour of Mariquita, and thatconsolations had better be deferred to a more promising occasion. 

"A most lacerating wind!" she said coolly. "It draws the moisture to myeyes. Quite too piercingly cold, I call it!" and even Mellicent had notthe courage to contradict. 

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And here, dear readers, we leave Peggy Saville at a milestone of herlife. In what direction the crossroads led the little company offriends, and what windings of the path brought them once more together, remains still to be told. It was a strange journey, and in theirtravelling they met many friends with whom all young people areacquainted. The giant barred the way, and had to be overcome before thepalace could be reached; the Good Spirit intervened at the right momentto prevent calamity, the prince and princess stepped forward and madelife beautiful; for life is the most wonderful fairy tale that was everwritten, and full of magic to those who have eyes to see. 

Farewell, then, to Peggy Pickle; but if it be the wish of those who havefollowed her so far, we may meet again with Mariquita Saville, in theglory of sweet and twenty, and learn from her the secret of the years. 

THE END.