BACK AT SEVERNDALE
The first two days of Peggy's return to Severndale were almost
overwhelming for the girl. True, Dr. Llewellyn met and welcomed her, and
strove in his gentle, kindly manner to make the lonely home-coming a
little less lonely. It was all so different from what she had
anticipated. That he was there to welcome her at all was a mere chance.
He had planned a trip north and completed all his arrangements, when an
old, and lifelong friend fell desperately ill. Deferring his trip for
the friend's sake, Neil Stewart's letter caught him before his
departure, and after reading that his own pleasures and wishes were set
aside. Duty, which had ever been his watchword, held him at Severndale.
"When questioned by him--circumspectly it is true--Peggy's answers
conveyed no idea of pending trouble, nor did they alter his charitable
view of the world or his fellow beings.
"Why, Filiola, I think it must be the very happiest solution of the
situation here: I am getting too old and prosy to make life interesting
for you; your father will not be retired for several years yet, so there
is little hope of your claiming his companionship; Mrs. Harold is a most
devoted friend, but friendships in the service must so often be broken
by the exigencies of the duties; she may be compelled to leave Annapolis
at almost any time, and if she is, your friend Polly will be obliged to
leave also. Why, little one, it seems to me quite providential that you
should have met your aunt in New London and that she will visit you
here," and good Dr. Llewellyn stroked with gentle touch the pretty brown
hair resting against his shoulder, and looked smilingly down upon the
troubled young face.
"Yes, Compadre, I know you think it will be quite for the best and I'm
sure it would if--if--"
Peggy paused. She hated to say anything uncomplimentary of the person
whom the law said she must regard as her aunt.
"Are you prejudiced, my dear?"
There was mild reproof in Dr. Llewellyn's tone.
"I am afraid I am. You see I have been with the 'Little Mother,' and I
do love her so, and Polly's mother, too, and oh, Compadre, she is
lovely. Perfectly lovely. If you could only see Polly with her. There is
something--something in their attitude toward each other which makes me
understand just what Mamma and I might have been to each other had she
lived. I never guessed what it meant until last winter, or felt it as I
did up there in New London. Daddy Neil is dear and precious but Mamma
and I would have been just what Polly and HER mother are to each other;
I know it."
"Will it not be possible for you and your aunt to grow very deeply
attached to one another? She, I understand, is quite alone in the world,
and you should mean a great deal to each other."
Peggy's slight form shuddered ever so little in his circling arm. That
little shudder conveyed more to Dr. Llewellyn than a volume of words
could have done. He knew the sensitive, high-strung girl too well not to
comprehend that there must be something in Mrs. Peyton Stewart's
personality which grated harshly upon her, and concluded that it would
be wiser not to pursue the subject.
"Go for a spin upon Shashai's silky back, and let Tzaritza's long leaps
carry yon into a world of gladness. Nelly has been asking for you and
the five-mile ride to her home will put things straighter."
"I'll go," answered Peggy, and left him to get into her linen riding
skirt, for it was still very warm in Maryland.
From the moment of her return Tzaritza had never left Peggy's side, and
her horses, especially Shashai, Roy and Star had greeted her with every
demonstration of affection. She now made her way to the paddock
intending to take out her favorite, but when she called him the other
two came bounding toward her, nozzling, whinnying, begging for her
caresses.
"What SHALL I do with all three of you?" cried Peggy. "I can't ride
three at once."
"You'll be having one grand time to git shet o' the other two whichever
one you DO take; they've been consoling themselves for your absence by
stickin' together as thick as thieves: Where one goes, there goes
'tothers," laughed Shelby, who had gone down to the paddock with her.
"Then let them come along if they want to," and Peggy joined in the
laugh.
"You couldn't lose 'em if you tried; first they love you, and then
they're so stuck on each other you'd think it was one body with a dozen
legs."
Without another word Peggy sprang to Shashai's back. Then with the clear
whistle her pets knew so well, was off down the road. That was a mad,
wild gallop but when she came to Nelly's home her cheeks were glowing
and her eyes shining as of old.
"Oh, HAVE you seen Pepper and Salt?" was almost the first question Nelly
asked.
"Well, I guess I have, and aren't they wonders? Oh, I'm so glad I saw
them that day. Do you know they are to be entered in the horse-show and
the steeple-chase this fall? Well, they are. Shelby has made them such
beauties. But now tell me all about yourself. I'm going to write to
Polly tonight and she will never forgive me if I don't tell her just
everything. You are looking perfectly fine. And how is the knee?"
"Just as well as its mate. I wouldn't know I had ever been lame. Your
doctor is a wonder, Miss Peggy, and he was so kind. He said you told him
you had adopted me and he was bound to take extra good care of me
because I was YOUR girl now. I didn't know you had told him to attend me
until after you had gone away and I can't thank you enough, but father
is so worried because he thinks he will never be able to pay such a bill
as Doctor Kendall's ought to be for curing me. But I tell him it will
come out all right, just as it always has before, for things are looking
up right smart on the farm now. Tom and Jerry certainly do earn their
keep, as Mr. Shelby said they would, and they are so splendid and big
and round and roly-poly, and strong enough to pull up a tree, father
says. Don't you want to come and see them?"
"Indeed I do," and following the beaming, healthy girl whose once pale
cheeks were now rounded and rosy, Peggy walked to the stump lot just
beyond the little cottage where she was heartily greeted by Jim Bolivar,
who said:
"Well, if it ain't a sight fit ter chirker up a dead man ter see ye back
again, Miss Peggy. Will you shake hands with me, miss? It's a kind o'
dirty and hard hand but it wants ter hold your little one jist a minute
ter try ter show ye how much the man it belongs ter thinks of ye."
Peggy laid her own pretty little hand in Jim Bolivar's, saying:
"I wish I could make you understand how glad I am to shake hands with
you, and it always makes me so happy to have people like me. It hurts if
they don't, you know."
"Well, you ain't likely ter be hurt none ter speak of; no, you ain't,
little girl, an' that's a fact. God bless ye! And look at Nelly. Ain't
she a clipper? My, things is jist a hummin' on the little old farm now,
an' 'fore ye know it we'll be buildin' a piazzy. Now come 'long an' see
Tom and Jerry."
And so from one to another went the little chatelaine of Severndale,
welcomed at every turn, cheery, helpful, sunny, beloved yet, oh, so
lonely in her young girlhood.
And thus passed the first days of Peggy's return to Severndale. Then the
eventful one of Mrs. Stewart's arrival dawned. It was a gloriously sunny
one; cool from a shower during the previous night. Mrs. Stewart would
arrive at five in the afternoon. All morning Peggy had been busy looking
to the preparations for her aunt's reception. Harrison had followed out
her young mistress' orders to the letter, for somehow of late, Harrison
had grown to defer more and more to "Miss Peggy," though secretly, she
was not in the least favorably inclined toward the prospective addition
to the household: Mammy's report had not tended to pre-dispose her in
the lady's favor.
Nevertheless, she was a guest, and a guest at Severndale stood for more
than a mere word of five letters.
Peggy ordered the surrey to meet the five P. M. car but chose to ride
Shashai, and when Jess set forth with the perfectly appointed carriage
and span, Peggy, in her pretty khaki habit fox-trotted beside Comet and
Meteor, Tzaritza, as usual, bounding on ahead.
They had gone possibly half the distance when a mad clatter of hoof-
beats caused her to exclaim:
"Oh, Jess, they have leaped the paddock fence!"
"Dey sho' has, honey-chile. Dey sho' has," chuckled Jess. "Dat lady
what's a-comin' gwine get a 'ception at 'tention what mak' her open her
eyes."
"Oh, but I did not want her to have such a welcome. She will think we
are all crazy down here," protested Peggy.
"Well, if she think FIVE thoroughbreds tu'ned out fer ter welcome her
stan fer crazy folks she gwine start out wid a mistake. Dem hawses gwine
mind yo' an' mak' a showin' she ain' gwine see eve'y day of her life
lemme tell yo'."
But there was no time to discuss the point further, for Silver Star and
Roy came bounding up on a dead run, manes and tails waving, and with the
maddest demonstrations of joy at having won out in their determination
NOT to be left behind. They rushed to Peggy's side, whinnying their
"Hello! How are you?" to Shashai, who answered with quite as much
abandon. And then came the transformation: At a word from Peggy they
fell into stride beside her and finished the journey to the little depot
in as orderly a manner as perfectly trained dogs. When they reached it
Peggy stationed them in line, and slipping from Shashai's back ordered
Tzaritza to "guard." Then she stepped upon the platform to meet the
incoming car, just as little less than a year before she had stepped
upon it to welcome the ones whom during that year she had learned to
love so dearly, and who had so completely altered her outlook upon life,
and who were destined to change and--yes--save her future, just as
surely as the one now momentarily drawing nearer and nearer was destined
to bring a crisis into it.
The car came buzzing up to the station. There was a flutter of drapery,
as a lady with a white French poodle, snapping and snarling at the world
at large, and the brakeman in particular, into whose arms it was thrust,
descended from the steps.
"Handle Toinette carefully. Dear me, you are crushing her, the poor
darling. Here, porter, take this suitcase," were the commands issued.
"I ain't no po'tah," retorted the negro who had been singled out by
Madam. Then he turned and walked off.
"Insolent creature," was the sharp retort, which might have been
followed by other comments had not Peggy at that moment advanced to meet
her aunt. When the negro saw that the new arrival was a friend of the
little lady of Severndale his whole attitude changed in a flash. Doffing
his cap he ran toward her saying:
"I looks after it fo' YO', Miss Peggy." The accent upon the pronoun was
significant.
"Thank you, Sam," was the quick, smiling answer. Then:
"How do you do, Aunt Katharine? Welcome to Severndale," and her hand was
extended to welcome her relative, for Peggy's instincts were rarely at
fault.
But her aunt was too occupied in receiving Toinette into her protecting
embrace to see her niece's hand, and Peggy did not force the greeting.
"Will you come to the carriage?" she asked, "I hope you are not very
tired from the journey."
"On the contrary, I am positively exhausted. I don't see how you can
endure those horrid, smelly little cars. We would not consent to ride a
mile in them at home. Is this your carriage? Hold my dog, coachman,
while I am getting in," and Toinette was thrust into Jess' hand which
she promptly bit, and very nearly had her small ribs crushed for her
indiscretion, her yelp producing a cry from her doting mistress.
"Be careful, you stupid man. You can't handle that delicate little thing
as though she were one of your great horses. Now put the suitcase by the
driver and leave room here beside me for my niece," were the further
commands issued to "Sam."
Sam did as ordered, but when a dime was proffered answered:
"Keep yo' cash, lady. I done DAT job fer ma little quality lady hyer,
an' SHE pays wid somethin' bettah."
Mrs. Stewart was evidently NOT in her amiable guise, but turning to
Peggy she strove to force a smile and say:
"Ignorant creatures, aren't they, dear? But come. I've a thousand
questions to ask."
"Thank you, Aunt Katharine, but I rode over on my saddle horse, and
shall have to ask you to excuse me."
Not until that moment did Mrs. Stewart notice the three horses standing
like statues just beyond the carriage with the splendid dog lying upon
the ground in front of them.
Peggy crossed the intervening space and with the one word "Up," to
Tzaritza, set her escort in motion. They reached forward long, slim
necks to greet her, Tzaritza bounding up to rest her forepaws upon her
shoulders and nestle her silky head against Peggy's face, sure of the
solicited caress. Then Peggy bounded to Shashai's back, and the little
group, wheeling like a flash, led the way from the depot.
"Good heavens and earth! It is quite time someone came down here to look
after that child. I had no idea she was leading the life of a wild
western cowboy," was the exclamation from the rear seat of the surrey,
plainly overheard by Jess, and, later duly reported.
"Huh, Um," he muttered.
The ride to Severndale held no charm for Madam Stewart. She was too
intent upon "that child's mad, hoydenish riding. Good heavens, if such
were ever seen in New York," New York with its automaton figures jigging
up and down in the English fashion through Central Park being her
criterion for the world in general.
Presently beautiful Severndale was reached. Dr. Llewellyn was waiting
upon the terrace to greet his ward's aunt, which he did in his stately,
courtly manner, but before ten words were spoken he comprehended all
Neil Stewart meant in his letter by the words:
"Stand by Peggy. I've landed her up against it," and as the young girl
led her aunt into the house, with Mammy, all immaculate dignity
following in their wake, he mentally commented: "I fear he HAS made a
grave mistake; a very grave one, but Providence ordereth all things and
we see darkly. It may be one of the 'wondrous ways.' We must not form
our conclusions too hastily. No, not too hastily."
And just here we must leave Peggy Stewart upon the threshold of a new
world the entrance to which is certainly not enticing. What the
experiences of that month were, and the revelations which came into
Peggy's life during it; how the perplexing problem was solved and who
helped to solve it, must be told in the story of Peggy Stewart at
School. But just now we must leave her doing her best to make "Aunt
Katharine" comfortable; to smooth out some of the kinks already making a
snarl of the usually evenly ordered household, for Mammy had not changed
her opinion one particle, and when Harrison went back to her own
undisputed realm of the big house she was overheard to remark:
"Well, Neil Stewart is a man, so OF COURSE, he's bound to do some fool
things, but unless I miss MY guess, he's played his trump card THIS
time."