CONCLUSION
'We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.'
It was all perfectly true, that was the best part of it. The little old
gentleman turned out to be a very learned don from Oxford, with a
terrific list of letters at the end of his name, and in the course of a
few days a representative arrived from the Bodleian Library with a
request to be allowed to inspect the books (which by this time had been
removed to a corner of the big drawing-room), and after a considerable
amount of talking and writing it was arranged that they should be sent
to London at once to be sold by auction. As the old gentleman had
prophesied, the sale made quite a sensation among lovers of antiquities,
and realized a sum sufficient to put Mr. Vaughan at once out of his
difficulties.
'It does not make me a rich man, children,' he said. 'But it is enough
to wipe off our debts, and keep the old roof together over our heads. We
shall still have to work hard and live carefully, but now that there
will not be the continual drain of the interest on the mortgages going
out, I shall be able to put more into the land, and carry out the
improvements I have been longing to make for years, and in time the
estate will pick up, so that I hope when I go to take my place among the
old Crusaders in the transept I shall hand it on to the next generation
of Vaughans in better condition than I found it.'
To say that the children were delighted at this new turn of fortune's
wheel is a very poor way of expressing their rapture. Every corner of
the Abbey had to be revisited to feel again the joy of possession; all
the animals must be petted as a kind of apology for having even thought
of parting with them; and Peggy felt as though she would like to tell
the birds and the flowers that they were not going away after all, and
give them a chance of joining in the general rejoicings. Soft-hearted
Joe wept at the good news, but it was for joy this time; and so many
people sent kind messages of congratulation, and expressed such pleasure
at hearing they were to remain at the Abbey, that the Vaughans were
quite surprised to find how popular they were in the neighbourhood.
The only person who seemed not altogether satisfied was Archie, who had
dwelt so much on a colonial future that he was quite disappointed at
having to give up the idea.
'I had almost persuaded Aunt to go,' he declared. 'And it would have
been ripping fun out there on our ranches. No, I ain't going unless you
do! I guess I'll stay in England now, and take to engineering; but it
seems half a pity, for we should all have got on tip-top in the new
world.'
As Mr. Vaughan had said, the change in his fortunes did not make him a
rich man, and though all anxiety was now removed, and even a few extra
comforts might be added, matters went on pretty much in the old way at
the Abbey. Peggy grew up without many of the luxuries which fall to the
lot of richer girls, but she was none the worse for that, and I think,
when she saw how bored and uninterested Maud Middleton was in the midst
of her round of London society and foreign travel, she felt that it is
sometimes better to have the capacity for enjoyment than to have the
means without the happy talent of being able to appreciate your good
things.
Life was always so well worth living to Peggy, whether at work or play.
Her friendships were so keen and her affections so warm, that I think
she found the world a very pleasant place to be in, and made it better
and pleasanter for other people too (which is, after all, the grand
secret of happiness), and the energy and enterprising spirits which had
caused the tomboy pranks of her childhood were qualities which, turned
to good use, proved of the utmost service to her in after-years.
* * * * *
Do I make too much of a little girl who, after all, was no heroine, but
who tried her honest best, like many another, to fear God, tell the
truth, and love her neighbour as herself? If so, my love for her bright
ways and warm heart must be my excuse, for I have told Peggy's story
just as it happened.
Many years have passed away since the children played round the old
apple-trees in the orchard, or scrambled among the ivy in the ruins, but
Gorswen is little changed. The picturesque old black-and-white houses
still stand in the village street, unspoilt by time or tourists; Mrs.
Price presides at the Post Office, rubicund and smiling; and old Ephraim
totters down from his cottage to the Bluebell Arms, a living testimony
to the healthfulness of the district. The flowers are as beautiful as
ever in the Rectory garden, but the Rector is not there to tend them. He
has gone where little Raymond went before, on that longest of holidays
from which there is no return to the lesson-books of this life. He is
deeply missed in the village, but he has a worthy successor in Mr.
Wentworth, who now holds the living in his stead, for years of
companionship with one who dwelt so continually at the gate of heaven
have changed the nervous young curate into a strong and earnest
character. He is much liked in Gorswen, and he has Lilian to help him.
Perhaps the fact of their mutual shyness first drew them together, but
they have much in common besides an enthusiasm for parish work. She
makes an excellent helpmeet, and an ideal clergyman's wife. She has no
children of her own, but in mothering the fragile little Indian cousins
who are sent home to gain rosy cheeks and sturdy limbs from the fresh
English breezes her warm heart finds its outlet, and she is able to pay
back to Aunt Helen some of the love and care which she owes her from
long ago.
Bobby is a fine, tall young fellow, fresh from an agricultural college,
where he has learnt so much in the way of scientific farming that he
intends to make the fields yield the very highest pitch of production.
But already the Abbey has prospered to such an extent that little by
little the Vaughans are buying back some of the land which their
ancestors had squandered, and in time the estate may once more be of
some importance in the county.
And Peggy? I think the Rector's prophecy is justified, and she has grown
in every sense into the fine woman which he hoped and expected. She
still loves the Abbey dearly, but I do not fancy she will spend all her
life there, after all, for Archie, who now owns a prosperous sheep-farm
in Australia, is still as anxious as ever for her to try colonial life,
and I think that the next time he comes home on a visit to Gorswen he
will be able to persuade her.
Peggy does not feel the least little bit older than when she climbed
the water-wheel, or thrashed Jones minor behind the paling of the
cricket-field--if growing old means losing your ideals, and your keen
enthusiasm, and your hopefulness, and a certain appreciation of other
people's worth which is our birthright when we are young. She is still
capable of climbing a tree or scrambling over a hedge when no one is
looking, and pursues her hobbies with all her former vigour and energy.
She is sometimes almost ashamed of feeling, as she says, so ridiculously
young, but after all one's age should not always be measured by one's
years, and wherever she may go, or whatever she may do, Peggy will keep
that most priceless of possessions, the heart of a little child, without
which, equally in this world or the next, it is impossible to enter into
the Kingdom of Heaven.
THE END
_Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and Bungay._
Transcriber's Note:
Variations in spelling and hyphenation have been retained as they appear
in the original publication. Changes have been made as follows:
Page 19
In April the cuckoo comes, _changed to_
'"In April the cuckoo comes,
Page 143
and went prim little walks _changed to_
and went on prim little walks
Page 164
such invaluable etacher as _changed to_
such invaluable teacher as
Page 172
were not so simply _changed to_
were not so simple
Page 197
the old fellow's, rambling divergences
the old fellow's rambling divergences
Page 240
Safe in a iron cage _changed to_
Safe in an iron cage