THE DOCTOR.
Though it was only ten o’clock in the morning, Peggy was glad enough to
be put to bed at once when she got back to the house. Martin and Aunt
Euphemia rubbed all her stings with washing-blue and earth, and after
that the worst of the pain went out of them. But how Peggy’s head did
begin to ache! Then she got sleepy, and had funny dreams, and woke up
crying, and couldn’t eat the nice dinner Martin brought up to her.
Martin was quite kind too, and tried to get her to eat; but it was no
use—she did not want anything. It was very hot too—oh, so hot, Peggy
couldn’t lie still, and tumbled about in bed. At last, just when she was
so hot that she sat up to see if that would make her cooler, Aunt
Euphemia came in, bringing with her a strange man, who laid Peggy down
on the pillows again, and took hold of her wrist with one hand, while he
held his watch in the other.
“This is the doctor, Peggy,” said Aunt Euphemia in explanation.
“Do the stings hurt you still, Peggy?” he asked, pulling up her sleeves
to look at the marks on her arm. But Peggy scarcely knew what hurt her
most, her head was so sore, and she felt so sick.
“I am going to make you quite well,” the doctor said; “but you must take
something nasty first.”
He looked at Peggy and laughed.
Aunt Euphemia looked very stern. “I will make her take it!” she said.
“Oh, Peggy is too good to need to be made to take things, I’m sure,”
said the doctor.
Peggy sat up suddenly in bed.
“If _you_ give it to me _quick_,” she said to the doctor, “I’ll take
it!”
“Very well; here it is,” he said, shaking a powder into a glass, and
holding it out to Peggy.
Aunt Euphemia expected her to taste it and declare she couldn’t take it;
but Peggy drank the medicine right off without a word, and lay down
again.
“Poor little soul! Keep her in bed to-morrow, and I fancy she will be
all right next day,” said the doctor.—“Good-night, Peggy; go to sleep,
and if you are quite well on Thursday when I come you shall have a ride
on my horse.”
These were the last words Peggy heard, and she fell asleep very soon,
and slept all night long.
It is horrid to be kept in bed when one feels quite well. Peggy wanted
to get up and go out next day, and instead, had to lie still with
nothing to amuse her. The bed she was in was of a kind you never see
nowadays, with four huge mahogany pillars supporting red damask
curtains. It was just like sleeping in a tent.
Peggy found that by sitting high up on the pillows she could see out of
the window. The sea was right in front of the house, and a little
harbour filled with ships. There was a funny noise always going on at
the harbour, and Martin told her it was the ships being loaded with
coal. In the evening, just when Peggy was very dull, she saw a ship with
great white sails come floating along. There was scarcely any wind, so
every one of the sails was up, and it looked like a big white bird.
Then, as it came near the mouth of the harbour, it stood quite still in
the water, and a little steamer went puffing out to it. A rope was
thrown to the ship, and by this rope it was towed into the harbour.
Peggy could hear the men calling out to one another and laughing.
“Maybe, if you are good, Miss Peggy, I’ll take ye down to the harbour
one day,” said Martin.
“Might I get on to one of the ships?” Peggy asked.
“No, no—dirty places—all coal-dust; whatever would Miss Roberts say to
that?”
“Oh, but I would like to be on a ship, and the coal-dust would do me no
harm,” pleaded Peggy.
“There’s nothing but dirty Germans on the ships, Miss Peggy—speaking
like monkeys, and rings in their ears—Spanish, and Dutch, and Italian,
some of them. No, no; it’s no place for you!”
Peggy said no more. But, would you believe it, she decided that she
_must_ see these men with rings in their ears, who spoke like monkeys,
however she managed it. And with this thought she fell asleep.
Dr. Seaton came on Thursday, and by that time Peggy was quite well, and
out of bed again.
“May I take her down the avenue on my horse, Miss Roberts?” he asked of
Aunt Euphemia. “I promised her that I would.”
“Oh, don’t trouble with the child,” said Aunt Euphemia. “I mean to take
her for a drive with me this afternoon.”
[Illustration]
There was a moment’s pause, and Peggy looked very hard at Dr.
Seaton—very hard indeed. A drive with Aunt Euphemia would be quite
different from a ride with him, she thought.
“Mayn’t I take her? She shall not get into any mischief,” he said.
Peggy gave his hand a little squeeze to show what _she_ felt about it,
and Aunt Euphemia consented.
Dr. Seaton’s horse was tied to a ring at the door—a high, gray beast.
It had taken a mouthful of the earwig roses, and was munching away at
them when Peggy came down the steps.
“O horse, there are such lots of earwigs in these roses,” she said in
disgust, “I am sure they can’t be nice to eat!”
Dr. Seaton laughed, and told Peggy the horse didn’t mind the taste of
earwigs a bit. Then he lifted her up on to the shiny saddle that made a
nice creaking noise, and gave her the reins into her own hands, while he
held her on. The horse stepped away down the avenue so obediently, just
as if he were quite accustomed to having Peggy on his back. It was
delightful, being so high up, and feeling the horse move. Peggy thought
it made up for the wasps.
“I’m glad the wasps made me ill,” she said, “or I wouldn’t have had this
ride.”
At the gate they came in sight of the sea, and Peggy remembered what
Martin had told her.
“Oh, Martin told me the men on the ships talked like monkeys and had
rings in their ears,” she said, “and I want to see them.”
“Have you never been on a ship?” Dr. Seaton asked.
“No, never. The sea doesn’t come near home, you know,” Peggy explained.
“Well, would you like to come with me some day on to one? Would Aunt
Euphemia let you? I go to see a boy with a broken arm on one of the
ships. I’ll take you, if your aunt lets you come.”
Peggy was quite sure now that it was worth while being ill. Dr. Seaton
lifted her down off the horse, and told her to run back up the avenue.
“I’d like just to kiss the horse’s nose first,” she said. “He has been
so nice.”
But Dr. Seaton suggested it would be wiser to pat him—just in case he
were to bite; so Peggy contented herself with this, and then ran away up
the avenue as pleased as possible.