When Miss Peppy came down to breakfast next morning she found that she
was the first of the household to make her appearance. This, however,
was the natural consequence of her commendable desire to be always in
good time--a desire which resulted in her being at least a quarter of an
hour too soon for everything, except on those occasions, of course, when
she over-slept, or was detained by unavoidable circumstances.
On the present occasion Miss Peppy, having had a remarkably good night's
rest, felt placid, and looked serene. She passed the spare quarter of
an hour in perambulating the room, looking at the books and pictures,
smoothing her cuffs, arranging her cap, and paying marked attention to a
beautiful little dog which was Bella's own particular pet, and the
colonel's particular abhorrence, because of its tendency to bark
suddenly, sharply, and continuously at every visitor who entered the
house.
Rosebud, (for thus was it misnamed), seemed to be, however, in no mood
to receive attentions that morning. It was evidently ill at ease,
without apparently knowing why.
"Did it growl, then?" said Miss Peppy in a reproachful tone, as she
stooped to pat the head of the spoiled creature. "Ah, it mustn't growl,
for that is naughty, you know, darling Rosebud. Eh! doing it again?
Oh! bad little snarley-warley, growly-wowly. Doesn't it know that the
poet says `dogs delight to bark and bite?' and that--that--he means that
they shouldn't delight to do such naughtinesses, although, after all,
why they shouldn't when it's natural to them _I_ don't know; and,
besides, how does _he_ know that they delight to do it? I never saw
them look delighted in my life; on the contrary, they're very fierce,
are they not, Rosebud? especially the big ones that sometimes try to
worry you. How they can ever want to worry such a pitty-itty, dear,
naughty growly-wowly, snarley-warley as you, is quite beyond my
comprehension; but then, you see, we live in a world of puzzles, you and
I, Rosebud, and so it's of no use being puzzled, because that does no
good, and only worries one. Don't it, deary sweety petty? Well, you
can't answer of course, though I _know_ that you understand every word I
say."
Miss Peppy suddenly shrieked, for the "sweety petty" bit her with
sufficient force to show that he was not in a mood to be played with,
and would do it harder next time.
Just then the colonel entered, and Rosebud at once received him with a
tornado of maddening yelps, so that for at least five minutes it had the
entire monopoly of the conversation, and Miss Peppy was obliged to say
good-morning in dumb show. At the same time, the colonel frowned
fiercely at Rosebud, and said something which Miss Peppy could not hear
because of the noise, but which, from the abrupt motion of the lips, she
suspected must be something very wicked indeed.
When the darling creature at last consented to hold its tongue, the
colonel said--
"Are you aware, Miss Stuart, that your nephew has been out all night?"
"No, colonel, I was not aware of it," said Miss Peppy with a slight
elevation of her eyebrows; "I wonder at it, for although he often goes
out all night to ride wild horses into the sea, and save drowned people,
and things of that sort, he never goes out without telling Niven, and
saying whether or not he's likely to be back soon. Besides, he always
has the door-key in his pocket, when he doesn't forget it, which is
pretty often. Perhaps he had _your_ door-key in his pocket, but after
all, even if he had, that wouldn't alter the fact that he's been out all
night. But maybe he's in bed--did you look?"
"Yes, I looked, and he has evidently not lain on the bed at all last
night."
"Under it?" suggested Miss Peppy.
The colonel smiled slightly, and said that it had not occurred to him to
look under the bed.
At that moment the door burst open, and Bella's maid, rushing in, flung
herself on her knees at the colonel's feet, and, clasping her hands,
cried in piteous tones--
"Oh! sir, please, mercy please."
"Are you mad, girl?" said the colonel, with a look of mingled
displeasure and anxiety.
"Oh, sir, no sir, but,"--(sob),--"she's gone."
"Who's gone, girl; speak!"
"Miss Bella, sir; oh sir, run away, sir, with Mr Stuart!"
Colonel Crusty turned pale, and Miss Peppy fell flat down on the rug in
a dead faint, crushing Rosebud almost to death in her fall.
Instantly the entire house was in confusion. Every one rushed into
every room, up and down every stair, looked into every closet and
cupboard, and under every bed, as well as into every hole and crevice
that was not large enough to conceal a rabbit, much less a young lady,
but without avail. There could be no doubt whatever on the subject:
Bella and Kenneth were both gone--utterly and absolutely.
Miss Peppy alone did not participate in the wild search.
That worthy lady lay in a state of insensibility for about five minutes,
then she suddenly recovered and arose to a sitting posture, in which
position she remained for a few minutes more, and became aware of the
fact that her cap was inside the fender, and that her hair was
dishevelled. Wondering what could have caused such an unwonted state of
things, she gazed pensively round the room, and suddenly remembered all
about it!
Up she leaped at once, pulled on her cap with the back to the front, and
rushed up to her own room. On her way, and once or twice afterwards she
met various members of the household, but they were much too wild and
reckless to pay any regard to her. She was therefore left unmolested in
her farther proceedings.
Having tied on her bonnet very much awry, and put on her shawl
exceedingly askew, Miss Peppy went out into the street, and going
straight up to the first man she saw, asked the way to the railway
station.
Being directed, she ran thither with a degree of speed that any
school-girl might have envied. A train was on the point of starting.
"Ticket to Wreckumoft," she almost screamed into the face of the
ticket-clerk.
"Which class?" demanded the clerk, with the amiable slowness of a man
whose interests are not at stake.
"First!" exclaimed Miss Peppy, laying down her purse and telling the
calm-spirited clerk to help himself.
He did so, returned the purse, and Miss Peppy rushed to the train and
leaped into the first open door. It happened to be that of a third
class, which was full of navvies and mechanics.
"You seems to be in a 'urry, ma'am," said one of the former, making way
for her, and wiping the seat beside him with the sleeve of his coat.
Miss Peppy could only exclaim, "Ho, yes!" and cover her face with her
handkerchief, in which position she remained immovable until the train
arrived at Wreckumoft, despite the kindly efforts at consolation made by
the navvy, who arranged her shawl and offered her a glass of gin from
his own private bottle; and, finally, seeing that all his efforts were
fruitless, wound up by patting her on the shoulder, and advising her to
cheer up, for "wotever it was that ailed her, there was sure to be
better luck next time."
Arrived at Wreckumoft, Miss Peppy hastened to her brother's residence.
On the way she had to pass Bingley Hall, and, feeling that it would be
an unutterable relief to her feelings to tell somebody something, or,
more correctly, to tell anybody anything, she darted in and met my niece
Lizzie, to whom she stated wildly that Bella Crusty had run off with
Kenneth Stuart, and that in all probability the colonel was mad or dead
by that time.
Having thus let off a little steam, the worthy lady rushed out of my
house, entered the dining-room of Seaside Villa, where she found Kenneth
and his father seated at breakfast, and related to them in wild surprise
how that Bella and Kenneth had run away together the night before, and
that she had come in hot haste to tell them so, but how it happened that
Kenneth was there and Bella not there, she could not understand at all;
and concluding that the incomprehensibilities of the world were
culminating, and that the sooner she prepared for the final winding up
of all terrestrial things the better, she ran to her own room, embraced
the wondering Emmie, burst into a flood of tears, rummaged her pocket
for her thimble, scissors, and key, and, not finding them there, fell
into the arms of Mrs Niven, and fainted dead away for the second time
that morning.