Four days before Peggy left town she had an amusing encounter with one
of her old friends. The little party had divided, and while Mrs
Saville and Mellicent shopped in the West End, the colonel and his
daughter drove into the City to visit a collection of the pictures of
one of the old masters. They were sauntering through the second room
when Peggy's attention was attracted by a group standing at a few yards'
distance--a lady, a gentleman, and two little boys with Eton collars and
round-about jackets--a family group for a ducat, yet surely, surely
there was something familiar in the figure and bearing of the supposed
mother! She was tall and dignified, her clothes were quite miraculously
tidy, and the smooth, fair hair was plaited in Puritan fashion round the
head.
"Can it--can it be?" queried Peggy to herself; then, catching sight of a
long grave face, "It _is_!" she cried with a flash of joy, and walking
forward, planted herself deliberately in the stranger's path. What she
anticipated came precisely to pass, for the lady stepped back from her
position, collided violently with herself, and began hurriedly to
apologise.
"I beg your pardon! I did not see--I hope I have not hurt you." So far
in fluent unconsciousness; then suddenly she stopped short, gasped,
hesitated, stared hard at the face before her, and ejaculated a
breathless, "_Peggy--Saville_!"
"Esther Asplin! I knew it was you! I knew no one else in the world
could possess that back hair! How extraordinary to come across you
here! It's a marvel that Mellicent was not with me, but we were both
looking forward to seeing you at the vicarage at the end of the week!"
"I am on my way home now. I go down by the six o'clock train, and took
the opportunity of bringing the boys into town to see some of the
sights. They are such dears, Peggy. The one with the red hair is a
genius. You should see his Latin prose! The fat one is a lovable
little soul, but terribly stupid and lazy; a great trial to my patience.
I suppose Mellicent has told you all about my work, and how happy I am?
The parents are such charming, cultivated people. The mother is a
sister of Professor Reid, the gentleman who is with us now." She rolled
her eyes meaningly towards the cadaverous-looking man who had fled to
the end of the room at Peggy's approach. "He was one of our lecturers
at Girton, and recommended me to his sister when I left. Such an honour
for me, for he is one of the finest men in the `Varsity'--So wonderfully
learned and clever!"
"He _looks_ it," remarked Miss Peggy, regarding the lanky, stooping
figure with a crinkle of disdain in her saucy little nose. "Just
exactly my idea of a learned professor. Does he ever brush his coat?"
Esther flushed, and bridled with displeasure.
"I never inquired," she returned coldly. "In conversation with
Professor Reid one has something better to do than discuss coats. He
was kind enough to offer to meet us in town, and to take the boys home
after I leave to-night, and it is a privilege to go about with him.
I'll introduce you to him if you like, and--"
"You'd better not. I am sure he wouldn't like it. Let me introduce you
to father instead. He is wondering what new friend I have discovered,
and will be so much interested when he knows who it is."
Colonel Saville came forward in response to his daughter's summons, and
greeted her friend with much cordiality, while Peggy was agreeably
surprised to note the easy self-possession with which Esther sustained
her part in the conversation. Contact with the world had rubbed away
the rusticity of manner which still characterised Mellicent, and though
by no possibility could Esther be called pretty, there was an undeniable
attractiveness about the tall, neat figure and intellectual face. Peggy
knew that her father was agreeably impressed, for the colonel had a
tell-tale expression, and could by no possibility manage to hide his
feelings. If he were bored, dreariness feebly described his appearance;
if he were annoyed, his eyes sent out little sparks of fire, and every
hair in his moustache bristled on its own account; if he were sad, he
lost in five minutes the last remnant of youth, and appeared a wan old
man; while if he were pleased, he might have passed as Arthur's brother,
so alert and beaming was his demeanour. On the present occasion he was
all smiles and bows, and joked elaborately with the little pupils, who
were brought up and introduced, when, to Peggy's amusement, the genius
preserved a stolid demeanour, while the fat, little dunce displayed an
agreeable animation.
"An exceedingly sensible, pleasant young woman," was the colonel's
verdict as he left the room; and Peggy peered round over her shoulder,
and beheld the sensible young woman rearranging the fat boy's tie while
the professor cautiously retraced his steps towards her.
A few days later Peggy scrambled her possessions together to prepare for
her visit to the vicarage. Carter, Mrs Saville's maid, had departed to
pay a visit to her relatives in the country, and in her absence her
young mistress complacently folded her dressing-gown on top of muslin
dresses, pressed a jewel-box over a chiffon bodice, and remarked, with a
sigh of satisfaction, that it was a blessing to be able to wait on
oneself, and to be beholden to no outsider; after which she straight-way
left her keys on the dressing-table, and drove off to the station in
blissful unconsciousness. Mellicent was divided between grief at
leaving dear, beautiful, exciting London and anticipation of the
reflected glory with which she would shine at home as the restorer of
Peggy to the household; and in the vicarage itself all was excitement
and expectation, the old cook concocting every dainty she could think of
in a kitchen heated up to furnace-heat; Mr Asplin mowing the lawn in
hot haste, because the daisies _would_ spring up in impertinent fashion
in the hot dry weather; Mrs Asplin flying from one room to another,
patting cushions into shape, and artfully placing little tables over
worn spots on the carpet; and Miss Esther laying out clean towels, and
flicking infinitesimal grains of dust from the chairs and tables. The
sight of disorder was a positive pain to Esther's orderly eyes. It was
reported of her that in the midst of a Latin examination she had begged
to have a blind put straight, since its crooked condition distracted her
mind; and therefore it may be surmised that on the present occasion
Robert Darcy met with no very cordial reception, when he was discovered
stamping about the newly swept rooms in a pair of dusty shoes,
scattering fragments of leaves and stubble behind him.
"Bless the child, it will seem all the more home-like to her if it's not
all spick and span! Don't pick them up, Esther. I like to see them.
It was good of you to come over, Rob, for I'm not myself at all without
a boy in the house, and it does me good to see your dear dirty boots,"
cried Mrs Asplin, and blinked her eyes, trying hard to keep down the
tears which _would_ rise at the thought of Max in his far-off home, and
all the train of mischievous, happy-hearted lads who had been under her
care, and who were now fighting the world for themselves. Every morning
as she woke, and felt the tired pressure at her head, she felt a pang of
relief at the remembrance that there was no longer the old necessity to
be up and doing. Every evening as she rested on the old sofa she
remarked afresh to her husband how sweet it was to be alone, and to have
the rest and peace of a quiet house; but between the two ends of the day
there came a dozen other moments, when she longed for the cheery bustle,
the clamour of youthful voices, the presence of the merry young band.
Such a moment came to her now, and the tears were already glistening in
the sweet grey eyes when the sound of wheels crunched up the drive, the
vicar dashed into the house to shed his alpaca coat, and his wife and
daughter flew excitedly into the garden. The carriage stopped, a blue-
robed damsel leapt out of either door, and for the next two minutes four
female figures were so inextricably mixed together that it would have
been difficult to an onlooker to say which was which, or to apportion
the waving arms and bobbing heads to their proper owners. The vicar
stood in the background, looking on with a comical gleam of amusement on
his long face, while Rob shrugged his shoulders and looked bored and
superior, as men are fond of doing when women enjoy themselves in a way
which they themselves cannot understand. Presently, however, the
kaleidoscope-like mass dissolved into its component parts, and a young
lady advanced towards the vicar with a pretty flushed face beneath a
French hat, and two little hands stretched out in greeting. Mr Asplin
looked at her critically. _Was_ it Peggy? For a moment memory was
baffled by the sight of the elegant young lady, but a second glance
revealed the well-known features--the arched brows and kitten-like chin.
For the rest, the hazel eyes were as clear and loving as ever, and the
old mischievous gleam shone through the tears.
"Is it Mariquita?" he cried, and Peggy stood on tiptoe to kiss his
cheek, and hung on to the lapels of his coat, saying tremulously:
"No, it's Peggy! I never was Mariquita, you know, unless I was going to
be scolded in the study; and you couldn't possibly scold me the first
day. Are you half as pleased to see me as I am to be back again?"
"God bless you, child!" he said softly, and laid a tender hand on her
cheek. The bud had blossomed into a flower; the little school-girl whom
he had loved so well had grown into a woman, and her early grace and
charm were sweet in the old man's sight. He thanked God for them, as he
thanked Him for all beautiful things--the sunshine which gave colour to
the flowers, the green restfulness of the land, the song of the birds in
the trees. "You are very welcome, dear. It does me good to see you
among us once again."
"And looking so well. You are quite blooming, Peggy; and so smart as
she is too! Deary, deary me, is that what they call the fashion?" cried
Mrs Asplin, holding the girl in outstretched arms, and turning her
slowly round and round, to take in the details of her attire. "You look
so spruce, child, that I hardly knew you; but there, it won't be long, I
expect, before the true Peggy peeps out. Come in, darling. There's a
new rug in the hail; don't trip over it! We have been saying we needed
it for five years back, but it was bought only last week, to smarten the
house for your coming. Those are Esther's certificates in the corner,
and you must see the new cretonne in the drawing-room. All the chairs
are recovered. We finished them only last week."
"Tut, tut!" cried Peggy, and shook her head in dismay at such reckless
extravagance. She had not had a chance of exchanging any further
greeting with Rob than a smiling nod, while she and Esther cast curious
glances at one another across the room, renewing the impressions of
their first meeting. Peggy thought it one of the prettiest sights in
the world to see Mrs Asplin hang on to the vicar's arm and drag him
with her about the house, forgetful of everything but her instinctive
desire to be near him in her rejoicing; the prettiest thing in the world
to see the tenderness in his eyes. She looked at them mischievously,
and then of a sudden her own eyes began to blink, for all those four
years of absence had left their mark on the dear faces; they had changed
as well as herself; but with them it was not the blossoming of the bud
into the flower, it was rather the losing of those last leaves which had
lingered from life's summer. The vicar's shoulders were more bowed; the
lines on his face more deeply graven; his wife's hair had grown silvery
about the temples, and the pathetic, tired look in the grey eyes must
surely be permanent nowadays, since not even the excitement of meeting
could chase it away. She was even sweeter-looking than of old, but had
she always been so thin, so transparently delicate in colour? Do what
she would, Peggy could not keep back her tears, and Mrs Asplin caught
sight of them, and produced her own handkerchief in instant response.
"Ah, Peg, I know what you are thinking. The old home is not like itself
without the boys. I feel it too, dear, I feel it too. Not a single boy
would we have had in the place, if Rob had not taken pity on us, bless
him! It seems so strange after having had so many of them all these
years."
"It seems very quiet and peaceful, if you ask me! and if I'm _not_ a
boy, I've been away, and I do think I deserve a little attention!" cried
Mellicent, aggrieved. "If it had been Max who had come home, you
wouldn't all be crying and moaning for the girls. You would forget
there were such things in the world. It's not our fault that we happen
to be girls, and we have our feelings all the same. No one speaks to
me! No one says they are pleased to see me! No one makes the slightest
fuss because I am home!"
"Darling!" cried her mother, and rushed to take her in her arms. "My
precious baby, I'm just delighted to have you back; but you know how it
is--the thought of old times made me sad for the moment. We seemed such
a small party without the boys."
Mellicent grimaced and hitched her shoulders in petulant fashion. Then
she looked at Peggy, and a flash of amusement passed from eye to eye.
"Let's have tea!" she said shortly. "It's good for the spirits, and we
are both hungry. It's to be in the schoolroom, I suppose, mother, as we
asked. Peggy died to have tea there again, and was so afraid that it
would be laid out in style in the drawing-room that she made me ask you
to have it exactly the same as in the old times. I told her it was no
use, that you would have out all the best things, whatever we said."
"But you didn't, Mrs Asplin, did you? There are halfpenny buns, aren't
there, and scones, and damson jam, and the old thick cups and saucers?"
"Bless me, no, child! The very best china; cakes from Buzzard's, with
icing on the top, strawberries and cream, and every luxury you can
imagine. The schoolroom, yes; but you don't suppose I'd feed my
prodigal on halfpenny buns! Come and see all the good things that are
waiting;" and Mrs Asplin led the way towards the schoolroom, with the
complacent air of a housekeeper who has reason to be satisfied with her
preparations, while the two girls followed with elbows in suspiciously
close proximity. Another moment and the door was thrown open, when Mrs
Asplin immediately gave a shriek of surprise, and fell prone against the
wall. There stood the long table, set out with flowers and silver, and,
in the centre seat, sat a handsome frock-coated figure, with every dish
and plate of edibles massed around him in a solid circle of temptation.
The silver cake-basket was in the centre, plates of scones, macaroons,
and biscuits bordered each side; while the interstices were filled in
with bowls containing jam and fruit. On his own plate there were piled
at one and the same moment, a meringue, a slice of plum cake, two
biscuits, and a jam tart, and, in default of tea, he had filled his cup
from the cream jug, and was even at this moment wiping the tell-tale
drops from his moustache.
"That blessed boy!" cried Mrs Asplin, clasping her hands in delight.
"There never was any one like him. He guessed how I should feel--he
always _did_ guess! I might have known that he would come. But how?
When? Where? He was not in the carriage with the girls."
"Got out at the gate, mater, and came in at the window. Wanted to get a
start of you all at tea," said Arthur, coming forward, serviette in
hand, to receive the kiss and hug of welcome which he was never too old
to enjoy. He had divined that Peggy's advent would make the gap in the
household even more felt than usual, and his kindly instinct had been to
fill that gap as much as possible; but no other reason would he
acknowledge for his presence than the necessity of escorting two
frivolous young women who could not be trusted to take a journey on
their own account, and his hosts were too full of delight at his
appearance to dispute the point.
"Second fiddle!" sighed Peggy with a shrug. "It's meself that's second
fiddle this moment, when 'twas the whole orchestra I expected to be.
Take me away, somebody, before I break down altogether, and show me some
of the old haunts until tea is ready."
"Peggy, don't be absurd!" Esther said solemnly; but Peggy marched
determinedly out of the room, and, with the exception of Mr and Mrs
Asplin and Arthur, every one followed and stood looking on while she
pushed open the swing door of the cloak-room, and poked her little head
round the corner.
"Where's my peg?" she cried. "If I find any other wretched creature's
clothes hanging on my peg, I'll--" then she stopped suddenly, darted
forward with a squeal of delight, and closed the door behind her. She
was not hidden more than a minute, but in effect it seemed to have been
a long, long time, for when the door reopened, the French hat had
disappeared, and it was the real old Peggy-Pickle who smiled and nodded
and peaked her brows beneath the scarlet cap.
"The Tam o' Shanter! Rob has brought it back after all these years. He
kept it until you could wear it again. Goodness, how touching! I never
thought _you_ would turn sentimental, Rob!" cried Mellicent the
tactless, and the next moment devoutly wished she had held her peace, as
Rob scowled, Esther pinched her arm, and Peggy trod on her toe with
automatic promptness. She turned on her heel and strode back to the
dining-room, while Peggy flicked the cap off her head, trying hard to
look unconscious, and to continue her investigations as if nothing
embarrassing had occurred.
"There's the old stain on the floor where I spilt the ink, and the
little marks all the way upstairs where the corners of my box took off
the paint. Dear, dear, how home-like they look! I must see cook after
tea, and Diddums, my sweet little kitten. How is the darling? As
pretty and fluffy and playful as ever?"
"Peggy dear, do _not_ be silly!"
"Esther dear, I cannot help it! I'm too happy to be sensible. Let me
be silly for just one day. _What_, is that Diddums? That ugly, lanky,
old cat? You've aged terribly, Diddums, since I saw you last. Ah me,
ah me, the years tell on us all! Tell me, dear--be faithful!--are you
as much shocked at the change in _me_?"
Peggy looked up archly, and met Rob's deep, earnest gaze. She put down
the cat, rose suddenly, and thrust her hand through Esther's arm. Her
cheeks were very pink, her eyes astonishingly bright. Esther looked at
her critically, and pursed up her lips in disapproving fashion.
Certainly Peggy had grown into a very pretty girl, but it was a thousand
pities that she had not yet outgrown the eccentricities of her youth.