All thought of her own troubles temporarily banished by her interest
in the romance of Lemuel Gill, Peggy with light step retraced her way
through the pines until she reached the lane leading from Lemmy’s shack
to the Holmes’s. She had not been to the Dolphin for several days lest
she encounter Eric there. But now, swept out of herself, Eric did not
seem to matter. She was too happy to give him a thought.
Who would have dreamed of dear, artless little Lemmy being mixed up in
a love affair! Certainly Cupid was no respecter of persons--or ages,
either. With all her soul she prayed his cause might prosper. She could
not imagine a woman denying so appealing and lovable a suitor. Only the
stony-hearted could resist him and Rebecca was far from being that.
How fitting the marriage would be, and what a home ’Becca would make
for poor, incompetent Lemmy, who, since Asaph’s desertion, had put up
such a brave fight against loneliness! Already in imagination she could
picture the new mistress ensconced in the wee house; see her moving
cheerily about the garden; hear Lemuel call to her to come and inspect
his budding roses, and catch echoes of Rebecca’s delight at their
unfurling bloom. The pair would be like another Darby and Joan. And
close at hand would be Asaph and Althea. Why, the match was heaven-made!
Buoyed up by the joy of it Peggy felt gayer than she had in weeks, and
with swift resolution decided to run in while yet the mood possessed
her and make a morning call at the Dolphin, such a call as she had been
accustomed to making before misery and misunderstanding had clouded
her sky. With this end in view she moved merrily down the lane and
unobserved entered the Holmes’s garden.
Drowsy in the sunshine the place was fragrant with honeysuckle, roses,
and the scent of blossoming grapevine. Only the music of the surf, the
humming of bees, and the whisper of the breeze that stirred the crowns
of the surrounding pines disturbed its stillness. For a moment the girl
stood motionless, letting the balm of its beauty seep with healing into
her soul. After all God was in His heaven and all must be right with
the world. She reproached herself that she had ever doubted it.
For an instant she lingered on these Elysian heights, then crashed to
earth and recoiled, breathless.
Invading her Eden she saw two figures. One was Eleanor Parker’s and
the other that of a man whose arm was stealing tenderly about her.
There was no need for her to see more nor, indeed, had she the desire
to do so. Creeping miserably away she moved off toward the shore.
Ah, what a sorry tangle she had made of life! With happiness well
within reach she had capriciously tossed it aside until it had slipped
too far beyond her grasp for her to recover it. Vanity had beckoned
and she now reaped its harvest. Well, she had no one to blame for the
tragedy but herself. Nevertheless that fact did not make it easier to
view as an idle spectator the joy that might have been hers.
To surrender the man she loved to another woman! Her unselfishness
was put to a terrible test. Could she forget herself and think only
of him? That was the question. If she really cared she must desire he
should have every blessing. She did desire it. Her task would now be to
show him how genuine was this wish--show him with such self-effacing
devotion that neither he nor anyone else should suspect her secret or
the price of her sacrifice. Pride would help her to play out the game
in true sporting spirit.
Occupied with these thoughts she sped on, seeking a curve of the beach
that made up into a meandering little creek that was a favorite haunt
of hers. The breeze sweeping the sea brought with it the refreshing
tang of measureless miles of ocean and, calmed by its breath, she at
length sat down on the solitary beach and watched the tide steal higher
and higher up the reach of sand.
The stillness of the place and the dull, monotonous rumble of the surf
soothed her and gave her courage. Already she felt strengthened for the
coming ordeal.
Then she became conscious of a presence beside her and turning saw Eric
Hollingsworth.
His appearance was so unexpected that she could not make it real, and
she gave a low, nervous cry of fear.
Had she not left him in the Holmes’s garden?
Evidently the sight of her caused him a corresponding shock, for it was
the last place in the world he expected to encounter anybody--much less
Peggy.
With wordless wonder the two regarded one another. Then Eric dropped to
the ground and whispered her name.
“Peggy!”
A power miraculous must have been in the word, some potent charm that
breathed love rather than voiced it, for with the utterance jealousies
and misunderstandings vanished and eye spoke to eye, heart to heart.
What further need was there of speech?
“But--but--Eleanor?” the girl stammered at last.
“Eleanor?”
“Yes. Miss Parker. I thought--wasn’t it you in the garden just now?”
“I!”
“There was somebody with her--a man. I thought it was you.”
“I haven’t been near the Holmes’s today.”
“I certainly thought--it looked like you. But of course I must have
been mistaken. I begin to think the entire day a dream.”
“This is no dream, sweetheart. It is the last few weeks that have been
the hideous unreality.”
“Oh, I’ve been so wretched, Eric--so wretched and so silly!”
“And I, too, Peggy!” He held her closer.
“I thought you--”
“And I was sure that you--”
They laughed into one another’s faces.
“Isn’t it wonderful!” Peggy cried.
“It’s like magic! Why, only half an hour ago I had resolved to leave
Belleport tomorrow.”
“Go home!”
“Yes. What use was it for me to stay if you preferred Shattuck?”
“But I didn’t!” dimpled Peggy.
“How was I to know that, pray?”
“You didn’t seem to care much,” pouted his lady. “You were so taken up
with Eleanor Parker--”
“Taken up with her! Dear child, do you realize she is already engaged
to a chap in Springfield? She confided the secret to me at the outset.”
“O----h!” Then, as if an inspiration had come, Peggy cried: “Do you
suppose it could have been he I saw in the Holmes’s garden?”
“Perhaps,” answered Eric carelessly. “She said she was expecting him
down here sometime soon. I hope he’s a good sort, for she is a corking
fine girl and worthy of the best.”
“She isn’t going to have the best for all that,” laughed Peggy as they
rose from the sands.
For a long, delicious interval, forgetful of all else, they stood at
the water’s edge. Then the girl said:
“We must go back, dear.”
“I suppose so--sometime. But don’t let’s go yet.”
“We must,” Peggy repeated.
Yet for all that they did not stir.
“Come, Eric--please!”
“W--e--ll. But where shall we go? Whom shall we break the news to
first? What do you say we hunt up Lemmy Gill and give him the surprise
of his life?”
“He’s not at home. He and Rebecca Crosby--” she clapped her hand over
her mouth.
“Peggy! You don’t mean to say that they--By Jove! Why, I never
suspected such a thing! Think of Lemmy the hero of a romance!”
“I only hope the affair will turn out right,” Peggy declared earnestly.
“He is such a dear!”
“I hope so with all my heart. Well, if Lemuel has gone a-courting let
us find the Holmeses. It is almost their due to be the first to hear
the tidings, anyway.”
“So it is!”
Nevertheless, in spite of this resolution there proved to be many
additional rites that had to be gone through with before the lovers
left the sea’s margin. There were more explanations, tears, kisses.
Higher and higher the sun rose into the blue; brighter and brighter
flashed the water.
“Why, it must be near noon,” gasped Peggy at last. “Where has the
morning gone?”
Of the flight of its jewelled hours only the sandpipers, the quietly
advancing tide, and the zephyrs that stirred the bronzed marsh grass
could tell.