Two evenings later Peggy edged her way out of the crowd at Mrs Rollo's
reception, and sat down in a corner with a gasp of relief. Eunice had
been correct in prophesying a crush, for the suite of entertaining-rooms
seemed a solid block of people, and the babel of voices almost drowned
the music, which was being discoursed at intervals by a violinist with a
shock head, a Signor with an Italian name and an English face, and a
lady with an elaborate coiffure, who, in turn, warbled by herself, and
joined in the rendering of impassioned Italian duets. The accompanist
flourished up and down the piano, and the singers held their music at
arm's length, half-acting the words as they alternately frowned and
smiled, and having gone their separate ways throughout three whole
pages, joined together in a conclusive burst of triumph. The babel of
talk went on with even greater energy when the last note had died away,
and Peggy pursed up her lips in doubtful compliment.
"_That's_ over, thank goodness! I don't know what it was all about, but
she said, `Si,' `Si,' a great many times over, and they seemed happy at
the end, so that's satisfactory. It must be very exhausting to smile so
hard, and sing so loudly at the same time, so I hope other people
appreciated their efforts more than I did." Peggy sighed, and stifled a
yawn. She was feeling just a trifle tired and depressed in spirits, for
the day had been a busy one, and the process of dressing for the evening
had been delayed by one of those careless tricks for which she was
famous. Some trifling alteration having to be made to the belt of her
sash, she had taken it in hand herself, and put it--where? That was the
question. Nowhere in any of the three bedrooms could that belt be
found, and while the brougham waited at the door, and an impatient male
tramped up and down, four distracted females rushed to and fro, opening
drawers, ransacking wardrobes, and burrowing beneath beds. Mrs Saville
grew nervous and hysterical; her husband tugged at his moustache, and
vowed his intention of sending away the brougham and spending the
evening at home if this sort of "foolishness" went on much longer; and
Mellicent was on the point of tears, when at last the missing treasure
was discovered, squashed flat beneath a cushion, in company with a
magazine, a handkerchief, an odd glove, and several stray needles.
Colonel Saville looked very fierce during the drive which followed. His
light eyes sent out little sparks of fire, and the waxed ends of his
moustache bristled with anger, while Peggy sat opposite him in a little
heap in the corner of the carriage, with her eyebrows peaked into the
old eave-like shape, and the corners of her lips drooping pensively
downward. The meek little, "Yes, father!" "No, father!" which replied
to his strictures, would have melted a heart of stone, and Mellicent was
relieved to see the colonel's frown gradually giving place to the usual
good-natured twinkle.
"But you must be more careful, child," he said, "or you and I will
quarrel I can't stand disorderly ways. You ought to have a place for
everything."
"I have, father, but it's generally in the _other_ place!" sighed Peggy
plaintively, whereat her father laughed, despite himself, and peace was
restored. He was very tender to his little daughter during the hour
which followed, as he invariably was after anything had occurred to
cause a cloud between them; but though Peggy found no familiar faces in
the throng, her parents were fortunate enough to discover several old-
time friends, so it came to pass that she now found herself alone for
the moment, and thankfully seized the opportunity of a rest.
Ten minutes earlier one of the younger men to whom she had been
introduced had asked to be allowed to pilot her to the refreshment-room,
but she had insisted on sending Mellicent in her stead, and now had the
pleasure of beholding that young lady standing in a distant corner,
enjoying an animated conversation, and looking so fresh and bonnie among
the anaemic town-bred girls, that more than one admiring glance was cast
in her direction. Peggy's little face softened into a very sweet
expression of tenderness as she watched her friend, and hugged the
thought that she had had some part in giving her the pleasure which she
was now enjoying. In the pretty white dress, with her hair arranged by
Carter's skilful hands, Mellicent had no cause to be dissatisfied, even
in the midst of this fashionable throng, and the natural girlish
pleasure in looking her best added zest to the evening's enjoyment.
Peggy reflected once more that it was more blessed to give than to
receive, and sitting perched on the ottoman with her little satin shoes
braced against the floor which they barely touched, enjoyed a reflected
pleasure in Mellicent's conversation, blissfully unconscious of the fact
that every expression which flittered over her friend's face was
faithfully reflected on her own. The worst of being born a mimic is
that on occasions one acts a part without being in the least conscious
of so doing, and so while Miss Peggy fondly imagined herself to be
wearing an expression of dignified repose, in reality her features were
never still for the fraction of a second. Mellicent smiled--she smiled
also; Mellicent shook her head--she did the same, until all the little
sprays of the white aigrette shook and quivered again; Mellicent
appeared to question her companion--Peggy's eyebrows peaked themselves
in an inquiring arch; Mellicent cast down her eyes and modestly studied
the carpet--prunes and prisms were reflected on Peggy's face in an
attack of the most virulent description. So it went on for five minutes
on end, the little play being hidden from the surrounding gaze by a bank
of palms, through the boughs of which the unconscious actress studied
her part; but at the end of five minutes something happened which
completely altered the current of Peggy's thoughts. Mellicent's partner
called attention to something at the opposite end of the room, and the
girl turning to look at it, her understudy naturally followed her
example, and straight-way forgot Mellicent and her doings for the rest
of the evening.
Some one was leaning up against the doorway, studying her in his turn,
and at sight of him Peggy's heart gave a wild dance of agitation. The
crowds of gaily dressed visitors whizzed round and round like pieces of
glass in the old-fashioned kaleidoscope through which she used to gaze
in the vicarage drawing-room; the branches of the palms swayed about in
extraordinary fashion, and the face staring into her own grew dim and
indistinct. But it _was_ the same face. Oh yes! No one else could
possibly possess those deep-set eyes, those rugged features, that heavy
lock of hair across the brow. In spite of all reasons to the contrary,
it was Rob himself, and the next moment his well-known voice sounded in
her ear.
"Mariquita! Little Peggy! Is this really you?"
"Oh, Rob!" cried Peggy faintly, and could find no other word. He had
taken the seat beside her, and each gazed into the other's face with
eager eyes, noting the changes which the years had brought to the
familiar features. Rob's skin was burnt brown by the burning sun of the
lands through which he had travelled, his forehead showed deeply graven
lines, and his cheeks had lost their boyish curve, but the atmosphere of
strength and health and honest manliness remained, and exercised the old
magnetic influence over his companion. It was like a breath of mountain
air coming into the heated room, to see Rob's face, and hear his hearty
voice. Peggy drew a deep sigh of contentment, and smiled a happy
greeting.
"It is just as you said it would be, Rob, our meeting like this! How
long had you been standing there? Did you recognise me at once? Why
are you here at all? I thought you were in the country, and that you
hated going out, and would never accept an invitation if you could help
it!"
"Circumstances alter cases! I was at the vicarage the other day when
Mellicent's letter arrived, saying you were to be here to-night, and a
sudden temptation seized me to have a look at you, and see what manner
of young lady the years had made of Peggy-Pickle. I came up this
afternoon, astonished Rosalind by offering to accompany her, and
wandered about the room staring curiously at every girl I met. I saw
several in pink dresses that might possibly have been you, but if they
had, I should have marched straight home without troubling for an
introduction. Then I skirmished round to this door, and saw a little
head bobbing about in a way that seemed familiar, and--"
"And please," inquired Peggy meekly, "how do you like me, now you have
found me? Am I at all what you expected?"
She lifted her face to his in the old mischievous fashion, and Rob
studied it with a thoughtful gaze. If she hoped to receive a compliment
in reply to her question, she was disappointed. It was not Rob's way to
pay compliments, and there was, if anything, a tinge of sadness in the
tone in which he said:
"You have changed! It's inevitable, I suppose, but I have always
thought of you as I saw you last, and don't seem to recognise the new
edition. You have grown-up, but you've grown-up very small! There
seems less of you than ever. Was the climate too much for you out
there? I should have liked to have seen you looking stronger, Peg!"
"Oh, I'm a wiry little person!" said Peggy lightly. "You needn't be
anxious about me;" but she coughed as she spoke, and lay back against
the cushions, for really it was rather nice to have Rob anxious about
her, and to see the troubled tenderness in his eyes! She fluttered her
fan to and fro in a feeble, exhausted fashion, while Rob continued to
stare and to frown.
"You look too much like the rest of 'em. That's what I complain of!" he
said discontentedly, eyeing the details of her dress, and pointing with
a long brown finger to the bracelets on her wrist. "All these fixings-
up! Have you grown into a fashionable young lady, by any chance,
Mariquita? Are you going to join the social treadmill, and spend your
time in a rush after gaiety and enjoyment? or are you the same little
girl I used to know, who had an ideal of her own, and wanted to do
something grand and noble with her life? Which of the two is it? I
can't decide!"
"Oh, Rob!" cried Peggy piteously, and clapped her hands together. "Oh,
Rob, it's both! I do want to be good more than anything else in the
world. That wish is always there, at the very bottom of my heart, and
at any moment, if I were called upon to choose, I would give up
anything--anything! to do what was right. But I want to enjoy myself
too, and to have some fun, and go about to everything that is going on,
and wear pretty clothes, and be--be admired, and praised, and flattered!
There! I couldn't say so to any one else, but I always did confide in
you, Rob; and you won't be shocked. I seem to have two separate sides,
and the worst side is often the strongest. Do you think it is very
wrong of me, Rob? I'm so young, you see, so young, and so fond of
amusement!"
"Poor little Peg!" said Rob tenderly. "Poor little Peg! You were
always an honest little soul, and owned up about your failings. Well,
there it is, and you must fight it out for yourself. No one can help
you in a case like this, and you'll come out all right in the end, so
long as you keep a true heart. I suppose it's only natural that you
should want your fling. Most girls do, and find a mysterious pleasure
in gadding about, and dressing themselves up like dolls." He scanned
her once again with amused, half-angry admiration. "You are mighty
smart, Miss Mariquita--a very fine bird! It must have taken a long time
to put on all those feathers. Are those what you call your feet? Have
you been going in for the binding system in India, may I ask?"
"What is the matter with my feet?" queried Peggy, in a tone of injury,
as she stretched out two satin slippers, which seemed suddenly to become
of Liliputian dimensions when contrasted with Rob's huge square-toed
shoes. "They are very useful little feet, and can carry me about just
as well as your great ironclads can carry you. You used to say yourself
that I walked uncommonly well for a girl."
"I did, and I'm glad to find you have not outgrown the accomplishment.
Do you remember the red Tam o' Shanter, Peggy? I found it on its peg
when I went to the vicarage after you had left, and walked off with it
in my pocket. There was a hue and cry when its loss was discovered, for
it had been kept as a sort of fetish, but I refused to restore it. I'll
give it back to you, though, if you will promise to wear it in the
country when I can see you!"
"I will, with pleasure, every single day when it's not too hot. Dear
old Tam! It will remind me of our old times together, when we were so
happy, and thought ourselves so miserable, because lessons were hard, or
our plans went wrong, or we couldn't agree. But you and I never
quarrelled, Rob, we were always friends, and--"
"Partners!" said Rob softly; and Peggy stared fixedly across the room,
and once again the floor described that curious upward tilt, and a
kaleidoscope whirl of colour flew past.