HOSTILITIES SUSPENDED
During her drive into Annapolis Madam Stewart did more deep thinking
than it was generally given to her shallow brain to compass. Like most
of her type, she possessed a certain shrewdness, which closely touched
upon cunning when she wished to gain her ends, but she had very little
real cleverness, and practically no power of logical deduction.
Today, however, she had felt antagonism enveloping her as a fog, and
would have been not a little surprised to realize that its most potent
force lay in Peggy's humble servitors rather than in Peggy herself. From
the old darkey driving her, so deferentially replying to her questions,
and at such pains to point out everything of interest along the way, she
felt it radiate with almost tangible scorn and hostility, and yet to
have saved her life she could not have said: "He is remiss in this or
that."
They drove into Annapolis by the bridge which crosses the Severn just
above the Naval Hospital, and from which the whole Academy is seen at
its best, with the wide sweep of the beautiful Chesapeake beyond. Jess
pointed out everything most carefully. Then on they went across College
Creek bridge, up College Avenue, by historic old St. Ann's and drew up
at the Bank to meet Peggy. Mrs. Stewart looked about her in undisguised
disappointment and asked:
"Is _this_ the capital city of the State of Maryland? _This_ little
town?"
Jess' mouth hardened. He loved the quaint old town and all its
traditions. So did his young mistress. It had always meant home to her,
and to many, many generations of her family before her. The old "Peggy
Stewart" house famous in history, though no longer occupied by her own
family, still stood, a landmark, in the heart of the town and was
pointed to with pride by all.
"Dis sho' is de capital city ob de State, Ma'am. Yonder de guv'nor's
mansion, jist over dar stan' de co't house, an' yonder de Cap'tal an'
all de yether 'ministrashum buildin's, an' we'all's powerful proud ob
'em."
Mrs. Stewart smiled a superior smile as she replied:
"I have heard that the South is not progressive and is perfectly
apathetic to conditions. It _must_ be. Heavens! Look at these streets!
They are perfectly disgusting, and the odor is horrible. I shall be
glad to drive home."
"De town done been pave all mos' all new," bridled Jess. "Dis hyar
pavement de bes' ob brick. Miss Peggy done tole me ter be keerful whar I
drive yo' at, an' I tecken yo' on de very be's."
"And what, may I inquire, is your very worst then? Have you no street
cleaning department in your illustrious city?"
"We suttenly _has_! Dey got six men a-sweeping de hull endurin' time."
"What an overwhelming force!" and Mrs. Stewart gave way to mirth.
It was fortunate that Peggy should have arrived at that opportune
moment, for there is no telling what might have occurred: Jess's
patience was at the snapping-point. But Peggy's talk with Nelly Bolivar
had served to restore her mental equilibrium to a certain degree--and
her swift ride into Annapolis had completed the process. It was a sunny,
smiling face which drew up to the surrey and greeted Mrs. Stewart. Peggy
had made up her mind that she would not let little things annoy her, and
was already reproaching herself for having done so. She had resolved to
keep her temper during her aunt's visit if a whole legion of tormenting
imps were let loose upon her.
Three weeks of Mrs. Stewart's visit passed. Upon her part, three weeks
of striving to establish a firmer foothold in the home of her
brother-in-law; to obtain the place in it she so ardently coveted--that
of mistress and absolute dictator. But each day proved to her that she
was striving against some vaguely comprehended opposition. It did not
lie in Peggy, that she had the grace to concede, for Peggy had complied
with every wish, which she had graciously or otherwise, expressed,
except the one debarring Tzaritza from following Shashai when she rode
abroad, and be it said to Peggy's credit that she had held to her
resolution in spite of endless aggravations, for Madam was a past
mistress of criticism either spoken or implied. Never before in all her
sunny young life had Peggy been forced to live in such an atmosphere.
Little by little during those weeks Mrs. Stewart had pre-empted Peggy's
position as mistress of the household; a position held by every claim of
right, justice and natural development, for Peggy had grown into it, and
its honors and privileges rested upon her young shoulders by right of
inheritance. She had not rushed there, or forced her claim to it, hence
had it been gradually given into her hands by old Mammy, her nurse,
Harrison, the trusty housekeeper, and at length, as she had more and
more clearly demonstrated her ability to hold it, by Dr. Llewellyn, her
guardian, who regarded it as an essential part of a Southern
gentlewoman's education.
Then had come Mrs. Harold, whose tact and affection seemed to supply
just the little touch which the young girl required to round out her
life, and fit her to ultimately assume the entire control of her
father's home.
But all this was entirely beyond Mrs. Stewart's comprehension. Her own
early life had been passed in a small New Jersey village in very humble
surroundings. She had been educated in the little grammar school, going
later to an adjoining town for a year at high-school. In her home,
domestic help of any sort had been unknown, she and her mother, an
earnest, hard-working woman, having performed all the household work.
There were no traditions connected with that simple home; it was just an
everyday round of commonplace duties, accepted as a matter of course.
Then Mrs. Stewart, at that time "pretty Kitty Snyder," went as a sort of
"mother's helper" to a lady residing in Elizabeth, whose brother was in
a New Jersey College. Upon one of his visits to his sister he had
brought Peyton Stewart home for a visit: Peyton, the happy-go-lucky,
irresponsible madcap. Kitty Snyder's buxom beauty had turned all that
was left to be turned of his shallow head and she had become Mrs. Peyton
Stewart within a month.
The rest has been told elsewhere. For a good many years she had "just
lived around" as she expressed it, her income from her husband's share
of the very comfortable little fortune left him by his father, being a
vast deal more than she had ever dreamed of in her youthful days. She
felt very affluent. All things considered, it was quite as well that
Peyton had quit this earthly scene after two years of married life for
"Kitty" had rapidly developed extravagant tastes and there were many
"scenes." Her old associates saw her no more, and later the new ones
often wondered why the dashing young widow did not marry again.
They did not suspect how often her plans laid to that end had
misscarried, for her ambitions were entirely out of proportion to her
qualifications.
Now, however, chance had brought her once more in touch with her
husband's family, and she was resolved to make hay while the sun shone.
If Neil Stewart had not been an odd mixture of manly strength and
child-like simplicity, exceptional executive ability and credulity,
kindliness and quick temper, he would never in the wide world have
become responsible for the state of affairs at present turning his old
home topsy-turvy, and in a fair way to undo all the good works of
others, and certainly make Peggy extremely unhappy.
But he had "made a confounded mess of the whole job," he decided upon
receiving a letter from Peggy. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say
upon reading between the lines, because it was not so much what Peggy
had _said_ as that which she left unsaid, which puzzled him, and to
which puzzle Harrison supplied the key in her funny monthly report.
Never in all the ten years of her stewardship had she failed to send her
monthly letter.
Harrison was a most conscientious old body if somewhat below par in
educational advantages. Nevertheless, she had filled her position as
nurse, maid and housekeeper to Peggy's mother for over thirty years,
and to Peggy for ten more and her idea of duty was "Peggy first, Martha
Harrison second." Her letter to Neil Stewart, which he read while his
ship was being overhauled in the Boston Navy Yard, set him thinking. It
ran:
Severndale, Maryland.
September 21, 19--
Captain Neil Stewart,
U. S. N.
Respected Sir:--
As has been my habit these many years, I take my pen in hand to
make my monthly report concerning the happenings and the events of
the past month. Most times there isn't many of either outside the
regular accounts which, praises be, ain't never got snarled up none
since I've had the handling of them.
As to the past three weeks considerable has took place in this
quiet, peaceful (most times, at least) home, and I ain't quite sure
where I stand at, or am likely to. Things seem sort of stirred
round. Like enough we-all are old-fashioned and considerable sot in
our ways and can't rightly get used to new-fangled ones. Then, too,
we--I speak for everybody--find it kinder hard to take our orders
from anybody but Miss Peggy, who has got the right to give them,
which we can't just see that anybody else _has got_. Howsoever,
some folks seem to think they have, and what I am trying to get at
is, _have they_? If I have got to take them from other folks, why,
of course I have got to, but it has got to be _you_ that tells me I
must.
Up to the present time I seem to have been pretty capable of
running things down here, though I am free to confess I was right
glad when Mrs. Harold come along as she done, to give me a hint or
two where Miss Peggy was concerned, for that child had taken to
growing up in a way that was fair taking the breath out of my body,
and was a-getting clear beyond _me_ though, praises be, she didn't
suspicion the fact. If she had a-done it _my_ time would a-come for
sure. But the good Lord sent Mrs. Harold to us long about that time
and she was a powerful help and comfort to us all. _He_ don't make
no mistakes as a rule and I reckon we would a done well to let well
enough alone and not go trying to improve on his plans for us. When
we do that the _other one_ is just as likely as not for to take a
hand in the job and if he ain't a-kinder stirring round on these
premises right this very minute I'm missing my guess and sooner or
later there is going to be ructions.
Cording to the way _we_-all think down here Miss Peggy's mighty
close to the angels, but maybe we are blinded by the light o'love,
so to speak. Howsoever and nevertheless, we have got along pretty
comfortable till _lately_ when we have begun to discover that our
educasyons has been terribl neglected and we have all got to be
took in hand. _And we are being took powerful strong, let me tell
you!_ It is some like a Spanish fly blister: It may do good in the
end but the means thereto is some harrowing to the flesh and the
spirit.
I don't suppose there is no hope of your a-visiting your home
before the ship is ordered South for the fall target practice, more
is the pity. Tain't for me to name nothing but I wish to the Lord
Mrs. Harold was here. SHE is a lady--Amen.
Your most humble and obedient housekeeper,
Martha Harrison.
The day after this letter was written Dr. Llewellyn 'phoned to Peggy
that he would return at the end of the week and if quite agreeable would
like to pass a few days at Severndale with her, as his own housekeeper
had not yet returned from her holiday.
Peggy was in an ecstasy of joy. To have Compadre under her own roof from
Saturday to Monday would be too delightful. Brimful of her pleasurable
anticipations, and more like the natural, joyous girl of former days
than she had been since leaving Mrs. Harold and Polly, she flew to the
piazza where her aunt, arrayed in a filmy lingerie gown, reclined in one
of the big East India chairs. For a moment she forgot that she did not
hold her aunt's sympathies as she held Mrs. Harold's, and cried:
"Oh, Aunt Katherine, Compadre will be here on Friday evening and will
remain until Monday! Isn't that too good to believe?"
"Do you mean Dr. Llewellyn?" asked Mrs. Stewart, coldly.
"Yes, Aunt Katherine, you had no chance to know him before he went away,
but you will just love him."
"Shall I?" asked Mrs. Stewart with a smile which acted like a wet
blanket upon poor Peggy.
"But why do you call him by that absurd name? Why not call him Dr.
Llewellyn?"
"Call him Dr. Llewellyn?" echoed Peggy. "Why, I have never called him
anything else since he taught me to call him by that dear name when I
was a wee little thing."
"And do you expect to cling to childish habits all your days, Peggy
dear? Isn't it about time you began to think about growing up? Sit here
upon this cushion beside me. I wish to have a serious talk with you and
this seems a most opportune moment. I have felt the necessity of it ever
since my arrival, but have refrained from speaking because I feared I
might be misjudged and do harm rather than good. Sit down, dear."
Mrs. Stewart strove to bring into her voice an element of deep interest,
affection was beyond her,--and Peggy was sufficiently intuitive to feel
it. Nevertheless, if anything could have appealed to this self-centered
woman's affection it ought surely to have been the young girl who
obediently dropped upon the big Turkish cushion, and clasping her hands
upon the broad arm of the chair, looked up into the steely, calculating
eyes with a pair so soft, so brown, so trustful yet so perplexed, that
an ordinary woman would have gathered her right into her arms and
claimed all the richness and loyalty of affection so eager to find an
outlet. If it could only have been Mrs. Harold, or Polly's mother, how
quick either would have been to comprehend the loving nature of the girl
and reap the reward of it.
Mrs. Stewart merely smiled into the wild-rose face in a way which she
fondly believed to accentuate her own charms, and tapping the pretty
brown hands with her fan, said:
"I am growing extremely proud of my lovely niece. She is going to be a
great credit to me, and, also, I foresee, a great responsibility."
"A responsibility, Aunt Katherine?" asked Peggy, a perplexed pucker upon
her forehead. "Have I been a responsibility to you since you came here?
I am sorry if I have. Of course I know my life down here in the old home
is quite different from most girls' lives. I didn't realize that until I
met Mrs. Harold and Polly and then, later, went up to New London and saw
more of other girls and the way they live. But I have been very happy
here, Aunt Katherine, and since I have known Mrs. Harold and Polly a
good many things have been made pleasanter for me. I can never repay
them for their kindness to me."
Peggy paused and a wonderfully sweet light filled her eyes, for her love
for her absent friends was very true and deep, and speaking of them
seemed to bring them back to the familiar surroundings which she knew
they had grown to love so well, and where she and Polly had passed so
many happy hours.
Mrs. Stewart was not noted for her capacity for deep feeling and was
more amused than otherwise affected by Peggy's earnest speech,
classifying it as "a girl's sentimentality." Finer qualities were wasted
upon that lady. So she now smiled indulgently and said:
"Of course I can understand your appreciation of what you consider Mrs.
Harold's and her niece's kindness to you, but, have you ever looked upon
the other side of the question? Have you not done a great deal for them?
It seems to me you have quite cancelled any obligation to them. It must
have been some advantage to them to have such a lovely place as this to
visit at will, and, if I can draw deductions correctly, to practically
have the run of. It seems to me there was considerable advantage upon
_their_ side of the arrangement. You, naturally, can not see this, but
I'll venture to say Mrs. Harold was not so unsophisticated," and a pat
upon Peggy's hand playfully emphasized the lady's charitable view.
Peggy felt bewildered and her hands fell from the arm of the chair to
her lap, though her big soft eyes never changed their gaze, which proved
somewhat disconcerting to the older woman who had the grace to color
slightly. Peggy then rallied her forces and answered:
"Aunt Katherine, I am sure neither Mrs. Harold nor Polly ever had the
faintest idea of any advantage to themselves in being nice to me. Why in
this world should they? They have ten times more than _I_ could ever
give to them. Why think of how extensively Mrs. Harold has traveled and
what hosts of friends she has! And Polly too. Goodness, they let me see
and enjoy a hundred things I never could have seen or enjoyed
otherwise."
Mrs. Stewart laughed a low, incredulous laugh, then queried:
"And you the daughter of Neil Stewart and a little Navy girl? Really,
Peggy, you are deliciously _ingenue_. Well, never mind. It is of more
intimate matters I wish to speak, for with each passing day I recognize
the importance of a radical reconstruction in your mode of living. That
is what I meant when I said I foresaw greater responsibilities ahead.
You are no longer a child, Peggy, to run wild over the estate,
but--well, I must not make you vain. In a year or two at most, you will
make your _début_ and someone must provide against that day and be
prepared to fill properly the position of chaperone to you. Meantime,
you must have proper training and as near as I can ascertain you have
never had the slightest. But it can not be deferred a moment longer. It
is absolutely providential that I, the only relative you have in this
world, should have met you as I did, though I can hardly understand how
your father overlooked the need so long. Perhaps it was from motives of
unselfishness, though he must have known that I stood ready to make any
sacrifice for my dear dead Peyton's brother." Just here Mrs. Peyton's
feelings almost overcame her and a delicate handkerchief was pressed to
her eyes for a moment.
Ordinarily tender and sympathetic to the last degree, Peggy could not
account for her strange indifference to her aunt's distress. She simply
sat with hands clasped about her knees and waited for her to resume the
conversation. Presently Madam emerged from her temporary eclipse and
said:
"Forgive me, dear, my feelings quite overcame me for a moment. To
resume: I know dear Neil would never ask it of me, but I have been
thinking very seriously upon the subject and have decided to forget
self, and my many interests in New York, and devote my time to you. I
shall remain with you and relieve you of all responsibility in this
great household, a responsibility out of all proportion to your years.
Indeed, I can not understand how you have retained one spark of girlish
spontaneity under such unnatural conditions. Such cares were meant for
older, more experienced heads than your pretty one, dear. It will be a
joy to me to relieve you of them and I can not begin too soon. We will
start at once. I shall write to your father to count upon me for
everything and, if he feels so disposed, to place everything in my
hands. Furthermore, I shall suggest that he send you to a fine school
where you will have the finishing your birth and fortune entitle you to.
You know absolutely nothing of association, with other girls,--no,
please let me finish," as Peggy rose to her feet and stood regarding her
aunt with undisguised consternation, "I know of a most excellent school
in New York, indeed, it is conducted by a very dear friend of mine,
where you would meet only girls of the wealthiest families" (Mrs.
Stewart did not add that the majority had little beside their wealth to
stand as a bulwark for them; they were the daughters of New York City's
newly rich whose ancestry would hardly court inspection) "and even
during your school days you would get a taste of New York's social
advantages; a thing utterly impossible in this dull--ahem!--this remote
place. I shall strongly advise dear Neal to consider this. You simply
cannot remain buried here. _I shall_, of course, since I feel it my duty
to do so, but I can have someone pass the winter with me, and can make
frequent trips to Washington."
Mrs. Stewart paused for breath. Peggy did not speak one word, but with a
final dazed look at her aunt, turned and entered the house.