About Peggy Saville Part 10

"But it will look simply awful, Mellicent, if you leave it like this.

It will be frizzed out almost on a level with your head. Let me do it up in just two tight plaits; it will be far, far nicer," urged Peggy, lifting one little tail after another, and counting their number in dismay. But no, Mellicent would not be persuaded. The extra plaits were a tribute to Rosalind, a mark of attention to her on her arrival with which she would suffer no interference; and as a consequence of her stubbornness she marched to church next morning disfigured by a mop of untidy, tangled hair, instead of the usual glossy locks.

Peggy preserved a demeanour of stately calm, as she waited for the arrival of the Darcy family, but even she felt a tremor of excitement when the verger hobbled up to the square pew and stood holding the door open in his hand. The heads of the villagers turned with one consent to the doorway; only one person in the church disdained to move her position, but she heard the clatter of horses' hoofs from without, and presently the little procession pa.s.sed the vicarage pew, and she could indulge her curiosity without sacrifice to pride. First of all came Lord Darcy, a thin, oldish man, with a face that looked tired and kind, and faintly amused by the amount of attention which his entrance had attracted. Then his wife, a tall, fair woman, with a beautiful profile, and an air of languid discontent, who floated past with rustling silken skirts, leaving an impression of elegance and luxury, which made Mrs Asplin sigh and Mellicent draw in her breath with a gasp of rapture.

Then followed Robert with his s.h.a.ggy head, scowling more fiercely than ever in his disgust at finding himself an object of attention, and last of all a girlish figure in a grey dress, with a collar of soft, fluffy chinchilla, and a velvet hat with drooping brim, beneath which could be seen a glimpse of a face pink and white as the blossoms of spring, and a ma.s.s of shining, golden hair. Peggy shut her lips with a snap, and the iron entered into her soul. It was no use pretending any longer! This was Rosalind, and she was fairer, sweeter, a hundred times more beautiful than she had ever imagined!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

ROSALIND'S VISIT.

Robert did not make his appearance next morning, and his absence seemed to give fresh ground for the expectation that Lady Darcy would drive over with him in the afternoon and pay a call at the vicarage.

Mrs Asplin gathered what branches of russet leaves still remained in the garden and placed them in bowls in the drawing-room, with a few precious chrysanthemums peeping out here and there; laid out her very best tea-cloth and d'oyleys, and sent the girls upstairs to change their well-worn school dresses for something fresher and smarter.

"And you, Peggy dear--you will put on your pretty red, of course!" she said, standing still, with a bundle of branches in her arms, and looking with a kindly glance at the pale face, which had somehow lost its sunny expression during the last two days.

Peggy hesitated and pursed up her lips.

"Why 'of course,' Mrs Asplin? I never change my dress until evening.

Why need I do it to-day, just because some strangers may call whom I have never seen before?"

It was the first time that the girl had objected to do what she was told, and Mrs Asplin was both surprised and hurt by the tone in which she spoke--a good deal puzzled too, for Peggy was by no means indifferent to pretty frocks, and as a rule fond of inventing excuses to wear her best clothes. Why, then, should she choose this afternoon of all others to refuse so simple a request? Just for a moment she felt tempted to make a sharp reply, and then tenderness for the girl whose mother was so far-away took the place of the pa.s.sing irritation, and she determined to try a gentler method.

"There is not the slightest necessity, dear," she said quietly. "I asked only because the red dress suits you so well, and it would have been a pleasure to me to see you looking your best. But you are very nice and neat as you are. You need not change unless you like."

She turned to leave the room as she finished speaking; but before she had reached the door Peggy was by her side, holding out her hands to take possession of twigs and branches.

"Let me take them to the kitchen, please! Let me help you!" she said quickly, and just for a moment a little hand rested on her arm with a spasmodic pressure. That was all; but it was enough. There was no need of a formal apology. Mrs Asplin understood all the unspoken love and penitence which was expressed in that simple action, and beamed with her brightest smile.

"Thank you, my la.s.sie, please do! I'm glad to avoid going near the kitchen again, for when cook once gets hold of me I can never get away.

She tells me the family history of all her relatives, and indeed it's very depressing, it is," (with a relapse into her merry Irish accent), "for they are subject to the most terrible afflictions! I've had one dose of it to-day, and I don't want another!"

Peggy laughed, and carried off her bundle, lingered in the kitchen just long enough to remind the cook that "apple charlotte served with cream"

was a seasonable pudding at the fall of the year, and then went upstairs to put on the red dress, and relieve her feelings by making grimaces at herself in the gla.s.s as she fastened the b.u.t.tons.

At four o'clock the patter of horses' feet came from below, doors opened and shut, and there was a sound of voices in the hall. The visitors had arrived!

Peggy pressed her lips together, and bent doggedly over her writing.

She had not progressed with her work as well as she had hoped during Rob's absence, for her thoughts had been running on other subjects, and she had made mistake after mistake. She must try to finish one batch at least, to show him on his return. Unless she was especially sent for, she would not go downstairs; but before ten minutes had pa.s.sed, Mellicent was tapping at the door and whispering eager sentences through the keyhole.

"Peggy, quick! They've come! Rosalind's here! You're to come down!

Quick! Hurry up!"

"All right, my dear, keep calm! You will have a fit if you excite yourself like this!" said Peggy coolly.

The summons had come, and could not be disregarded, and on the whole she was not sorry. The meeting was bound to take place sooner or later, and, in spite of her affectation of indifference, she was really consumed with curiosity to know what Rosalind was like. She had no intention of hurrying, however, but lingered over the arrangement of her papers until Mellicent had trotted downstairs again, and the coast was clear. Then she sauntered after her with leisurely dignity, opened the drawing-room door, and gave a swift glance round.

Lady Darcy sat talking to Mrs Asplin a few yards away, in such a position that she faced the doorway. She looked up as Peggy entered, and swept her eyes curiously over the girl's figure. She looked older than she had done from across the church the day before, and her face had a bored expression, but, if possible, she was even more elegant in her attire. It seemed quite extraordinary to see such a fine lady sitting on that well-worn sofa, instead of the sober figure of the vicar's wife.

Peggy flashed a look from one to the other--from the silk dress to the serge, from the beautiful weary face to the cheery loving smile--and came to the conclusion that, for some mysterious reason, Mrs Asplin was a happier woman than the wife of the great Lord Darcy.

The two ladies stopped talking and looked expectantly towards her.

"Come in, dear! This is our new pupil, Lady Darcy, for whom you were asking. You have heard of her--"

"From Robert. Oh yes, frequently! I was especially anxious to see Robert's little friend. How do you do, dear? Let me see! What is your funny little name? Molly--Dolly--something like that, I think--I forget for the moment?"

"Mariquita Saville!" quoth Peggy grandiloquently. She was consumed with regret that she had no second name to add to the number of syllables, but she did her best with those she possessed, rolling them out in her very best manner and with a stately condescension which made Lady Darcy smile for the first time since she entered the room.

"Oh-h!" The lips parted to show a gleam of regular white teeth.

"That's it, is it? Well, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mariquita. I hope we shall see a great deal of you while we are here.

You must go and make friends with Rosalind--my daughter. She is longing to know you."

"Yes, go and make friends with Rosalind, Peggy dear! She was asking for you," said Mrs Asplin kindly; and as the girl walked away the two ladies exchanged smiling glances.

"Amusing! Such grand little manners! Evidently a character."

"Oh, quite! Peggy is nothing if not original. She is a dear, good girl, but quite too funny in her ways. She is really the incarnation of mischief, and keeps me on tenter-hooks from morning until night, but from her manner you would think she was a model of propriety. Nothing delights her so much as to get hold of a new word or a high-sounding phrase."

"But what a relief to have someone out of the ordinary run! There are so many bores in the world, it is quite refreshing to meet with a little originality. Dear Mrs Asplin, you really must tell me how you manage to look so happy and cheerful in this dead-alive place? I am desolate at the idea of staying here all winter. What in the world do you find to do?"

Mrs Asplin laughed.

"Indeed, that's not the trouble at all; the question is how to find time to get through the day's duties! It's a rush from morning till night, and when evening comes I am delighted to settle down in an easy-chair with a nice book to read. One has no chance of feeling dull in a house full of young people."

"Ah, you are so good and clever, you get through so much. I want to ask your help in half a dozen ways. If we are to settle down here for some months, there are so many arrangements to make. Now tell me, what would you do in this case?" The two ladies settled down to a discussion on domestic matters, while Peggy crossed the room to the corner where Rosalind Darcy sat in state, holding her court with Esther and Mellicent as attendant slaves. She wore the same grey dress in which she had appeared in church the day before, but the jacket was thrown open, and displayed a distractingly dainty blouse, all pink chiffon, and frills, and ruffles of lace. Her gloves lay in her lap, and the celebrated diamond ring flashed in the firelight as she held out her hand to meet Peggy's.

"How do you do? So glad to see you! I've heard of you often. You are the little girl who is my bwothar's fwiend." She p.r.o.nounced the letter "r" as if it had been "w," and the "er" in brother as if it had been "ah," and spoke with a languid society drawl more befitting a woman of thirty than a schoolgirl of fifteen.

Peggy stood motionless and looked her over, from the crown of her hat to the tip of the little trim shoe, with an expression of icy displeasure.

"Oh dear me, no," she said quietly, "you mistake the situation. You put it the wrong way about. Your brother is the big boy whom I have allowed to become a friend of mine!"

Esther and Mellicent gasped with amazement, while Rosalind gave a trill of laughter, and threw up her pretty white hands.

"She's wexed!" she cried. "She's wexed, because I called her little!

I'm wewwy sowwy, but I weally can't help it, don't you know. It's the twuth! You are a whole head smaller than I am." She threw back her chin, and looked over Peggy's head with a smile of triumph. "There, look at that, and I'm not a year older. I call you wewwy small indeed for your age."

"I'm thankful to hear it! I admire small women," said Peggy promptly, seating herself on a corner of the window-seat, and staring critically at the tall figure of the visitor. She would have been delighted if she could have persuaded herself that her height was awkward and ungainly, but such an effort was beyond imagination. Rosalind was startlingly and wonderfully pretty; she had never seen anyone in real life who was in the least like her. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue, with curling dark lashes, her face was a delicate oval, and the pink and white colouring, and flowing golden locks, gave her the appearance of a princess in a fairy tale rather than an ordinary flesh-and-blood maiden. Peggy looked from her to Mellicent, who was considered quite a beauty among her companions, and, oh dear me! how plain, and fat, and prosaic she appeared when viewed side by side with this radiant vision! Esther stood the comparison better, for, though her long face had no pretensions to beauty, it was thoughtful and interesting in expression.

There was no question which was most charming to look at; but if it had come to choice of a companion, an intelligent observer would certainly have decided in favour of the vicar's daughter. Esther's face was particularly grave at this moment, and her eyes met Peggy's with a reproachful glance. What was the matter with the girl this afternoon?

Why did she take up everything that Rosalind said in that hasty, cantankerous manner? Here was an annoying thing--to have just given an enthusiastic account of the brightness and amicability of a new companion, and then to have that companion come into the room only to make snappish remarks, and look as cross and ill-natured as a bear! She turned in an apologetic fashion to Rosalind, and tried to resume the conversation at the point where it had been interrupted by Peggy's entrance.

"And I was saying, we have ever so many new things to show you-- presents, you know, and things of that kind. The last is the nicest of all: a really good big camera with which we can take proper photographs.

Mrs Saville--Peggy's mother--gave it to us before she left. It was a present to the schoolroom, so it belongs equally to us all, and we have such fun with it. We are beginning to do some good things now, but at first they were too funny for anything. There is one of father where his boots are twice as large as his head, and another of mother where her face has run, and is about a yard long, and yet it is so like her!

We laughed till we cried over it, and father has locked it away in his desk. He says he will keep it to look at when he is low-spirited."

Rosalind gave a shrug to her shapely shoulders.