About Peggy Saville Part 21

"No," said Rosalind; "I mean--yes. I'll put on some more--I mean coals.

In half an hour Esther and Mellicent will be here--"

"Oh, so they will! How lovely!" Peggy seized gladly on the new opening, and proceeded to enlarge on the joy which she felt at the prospect of seeing her friends again, for on that afternoon Robert and the vicarage party were to be allowed to see her for the first time, and to have tea in her room. She had been looking forward to their visit for days, and, new that the longed-for hour was at hand, she was eager to have the lamps lit, and all preparations made for their arrival.

Robert appeared first, having ridden over in advance of the rest. And Rosalind, after going out to greet him, came rushing back, all shaken with laughter, with the information that he had begun to walk on tiptoe the moment that he had left the drawing-room, and was creeping along the pa.s.sage as if terrified at making a sound.

Peggy craned her head, heard the squeak, squeak of boots coming nearer and nearer, the cautious opening of the door, the heavy breaths of anxiety, and then, crash!--bang!--crash! down flopped the heavy screen round the doorway, and Rob was discovered standing among the ruins in agonies of embarra.s.sment. From his expression of despair, he might have supposed that the shock would kill Peggy outright; but she gulped down her nervousness, and tried her best to rea.s.sure him.

"Oh, never mind--never mind! It doesn't matter. Come over here and talk to me. Oh, Rob, Rob, I am so glad to see you!"

Robert stood looking down in silence, while his lips twitched and his eyebrows worked in curious fashion. If it had not been altogether too ridiculous, Peggy would have thought that he felt inclined to cry. But he only grunted, and cried--

"What a face! You had better tuck into as much food as you can, and get some flesh on your bones. It's about as big as the palm of my hand!

Never saw such a thing in my life."

"Never mind my face," piped Peggy in her weak little treble. "Sit right down and talk to me. What is the news in the giddy world? Have you heard anything about the prize? When does the result come out?

Remember you promised faithfully not to open the paper until we were together. I was so afraid it would come while I was too ill to look at it!"

"I should have waited," said Robert st.u.r.dily. "There would have been no interest in the thing without you; but the result won't be given for ten days yet, and by that time you will be with us again. The world hasn't been at all giddy, I can tell you. I never put in a flatter time.

Everybody was in the blues, and the house was like a tomb, and a jolly uncomfortable tomb at that. Esther was housekeeper while Mrs Asplin was away, and she starved us! She was in such a mortal fright of being extravagant that she could scarcely give us enough to keep body and soul together, and the things we had were not fit to eat. Nothing but milk puddings and stewed fruit for a week on end. Then we rebelled. I nipped her up in my arms one evening in the schoolroom, and stuck her on the top of the little bookcase. Then we mounted guard around, and set forth our views. It would have killed you to see her perched up there, trying to look prim and to keep up her dignity.

"'Let me down this moment, Robert. Bring a chair and let me get down.'

"'Will you promise to give us a pie to-morrow, then, and a decent sort of a pudding?'

"'It's no business of yours what I give you. You ought to be thankful for good wholesome food!'

"'Milk puddings are not wholesome. They don't agree with us--they are too rich! We should like something a little lighter for a change. Will you swear off milk puddings for the next fortnight if I let you down?'

"'You are a cruel, heartless fellow, Robert Darcy--thinking of puddings when Peggy is ill, and we are all so anxious about her!'

"'Peggy would die at once if she heard how badly you were treating us.

Now then, you have kept me waiting for ten minutes, so the price has gone up. Now you'll have to promise a pair of ducks and mince-pies into the bargain! I shall be ashamed of meeting a sheep soon, if we go on eating mutton every day of the week.'

"'Call yourself a gentleman!' says she, tossing her head and withering me with a glance of scorn.

"'I call myself a hungry man, and that's all we are concerned about for the moment,' said I. 'A couple of ducks and two nailing good puddings to-morrow night, or there you sit for the rest of the evening!'

"We went at it hammer and tongs until she was fairly spluttering with rage; but she had to promise before she came down, and we had no more starvation diet after that. Oswald went up to town for a day, and bought a pair of blue silk socks and a tie to match--that's the greatest excitement we have had. The rest has been all worry and grind, and Mellicent on the rampage about Christmas presents. Oh, by the bye, I printed those photographs you wanted to send to your mother, and packed them off by the mail a fortnight ago, so that she would get them in good time for Christmas."

"Rob, you didn't! How n.o.ble of you! You really are an admirable person!" Peggy lay back against her pillows and gazed at her "partner"

in great contentment of spirit. After living an invalid's life for these past weeks, it was delightfully refreshing to look at the big strong face. The sight of it was like a fresh breeze coming into the close, heated room, and she felt as if some of his superabundant energy had come into her own weak frame.

A little later the vicarage party arrived, and greeted the two convalescents with warmest affection. If they were shocked at the sight of Rosalind's disfigurement and Peggy's emaciation, three out of the four were polite enough to disguise their feelings; but it was too much to expect of Mellicent that she should disguise what she happened to be feeling. She stared and gaped, and stared again, stuttering with consternation--

"Why--why--Rosalind--your hair! It's shorter than mine! It doesn't come down to your shoulders! Did they cut it all off? What did you do with the rest? And your poor cheek! Will you have that mark all your life?"

"I don't know. Mother is going to twy electwicity for it. It will fade a good deal, I suppose, but I shall always be a fwight. I'm twying to wesign myself to be a hideous monster!" sighed Rosalind, turning her head towards the window the while in such a position that the scar was hidden from view, and she looked more like the celestial choir-boy of Peggy's delirium than ever, with the golden locks curling round her neck, and the big eyes raised to the ceiling in a glance of pathetic resignation.

Rob guffawed aloud with the callousness of a brother; but the other two lads gazed at her with an adoring admiration which was balm to her vain little heart. Vain still, for a nature does not change in a day; and, though Rosalind was an infinitely more lovable person now than she had been a few weeks before, the habits of a lifetime were still strong upon her, and she could never by any possibility be indifferent to admiration, or pa.s.s a mirror without stopping to examine the progress of that disfiguring scar.

"It wouldn't have mattered half so much if it had been Peggy's face that was spoiled," continued Mellicent, with cruel outspokenness, "and it is only her hands that are hurt. Things always go the wrong way in this world! I never saw anything like it. You know that night-dress bag I was working for mother, Peggy? Well, I only got two skeins of the blue silk, and then if I didn't run short, and they hadn't any more in the shop. The other shades don't match at all, and it looks simply vile. I am going to give it to--ahem! I mean that's the sort of thing that always happens to me--it makes me mad! You can't sew at all, I suppose?

What do you do with yourself all day long, now that you are able to get up?"

Peggy's eyes twinkled.

"I sleep," she said slowly, "and eat, and sleep a little more, and eat again, and talk a little bit, roll into bed, and fall fast asleep.

_Voila tout, ma chere! C'est ca que je fais tous les jours_."

Rosalind gave a shriek of laughter at Peggy's French, and Mellicent rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"How s-imply lovely!" she sighed. "I wish I were you! I'd like to go to bed in November and stay there till May. In a room like this, of course, with everything beautiful and dainty, and a maid to wait upon me. I'd have a fire and an india-rubber hot-water bottle, and I'd lie and sleep, and wake up every now and then, and make the maid read aloud, and bring me my meals on a tray. Nice meals! Real, nice invalidy things, you know, to tempt my appet.i.te." Mellicent's eyes rolled instinctively to the table, where the jelly and the grapes stood together in tempting proximity. She sighed, and brought herself back with an effort to the painful present. "Goodness, Peggy, how funny your hands look! Just like a mummy! What do they look like when the bandages are off? Very horrible?"

"Hideous!" Peggy shrugged her shoulders and wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I am going to try to grow old as fast as I can, so that I can wear mittens and cover them up. I'm really rather distressed about it, because I am so--so addicted to rings, don't you know. They have been a weakness of mine all my life, and I've looked forward to having my fingers simply loaded with them when I grew up. There is one of mother's that I especially admire--a big square emerald surrounded with diamonds. She promised to give it to me on my twenty-first birthday, but, unless my hands look very different by that time, I shall not want to call attention to them. Alack-a-day! I fear I shall never be able to wear a ring--"

"Gracious goodness! Then you can never be married!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mellicent, in a tone of such horrified dismay as evoked a shriek of merriment from the listeners--Peggy's merry trill sounding clear above the rest. It was just delicious to be well again, to sit among her companions and have one of the old hearty laughs over Mellicent's quaint speeches. At that moment she was one of the happiest girls in all the world.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

ALAS, FOR ARTHUR!

A few days later Peggy was driven home to the vicarage, and stood the drive so well that she was able to walk downstairs at tea-time, and sit at the table with only a cushion at her back, to mark her out as an invalid just recovering from a serious illness. There was a special reason why she wished to look well this afternoon, for Arthur was expected by the six o'clock train; and the candidate who had come out first in his examination lists must not have his reception chilled by anxiety or disappointment.

Peggy was attired in her pink dress, and sat roasting before the fire, so as to get some colour into her cheeks. If her face were only the size of the palm of a hand, she was determined that it should at least be rosy; and if she looked very bright, and smiled all the time, perhaps Arthur would not notice how thin she had become.

When half-past six struck, everyone crowded into the schoolroom, and presently a cab drove up to the door, and a modest rap sounded on the knocker.

"That's not Arthur!" cried Mrs Asplin confidently. "He knocks straight on without stopping, peals the bell at the same time, and shouts Christmas carols through the letter-box! He has sent on his luggage, I expect, and is going to pounce in upon us later on."

"Ah, no, that's not Arthur!" a.s.sented Peggy; but Mr Asplin turned his head quickly towards the door, as if his ear had caught a familiar note, hesitated for a moment, and then walked quickly into the hall.

"My dear boy!" the listeners heard him cry; and then another voice spoke in reply--Arthur's voice--saying, "How do you do, sir?" in such flat, subdued tones as filled them with amazement.

Mrs Asplin and Peggy turned towards each other with distended eyes. If Arthur had suddenly slid down the chimney and crawled out on the hearth before them, turned a somersault in at the window, or crawled from beneath the table, it would have caused no astonishment whatever; but that he should ring at the bell, walk quietly into the hall, and wait to hang up his hat like any other ordinary mortal,--this was indeed an unprecedented and extraordinary proceeding! The same explanation darted into both minds. His sister's illness! He was afraid of startling an invalid, and was curbing his overflowing spirits in consideration for her weakness.

Peggy rose from her chair, and stood waiting, with sparkling eyes and burning cheeks. He should see in one glance that she was better--almost well--that there was no need of anxiety on her behalf. And then the tall, handsome figure appeared in the doorway, and Arthur's voice cried--

"Peggikens! Up and dressed! This is better than I hoped. How are you, dear little Peg?"

There was something wrong with the voice, something lacking in the smile; but his sister was too excited to notice it. She stretched out her arms towards him, and raised her weak, quavering little voice in a song of triumph--

"See-ee the conquering he-he-he-he-hero com-ums! Sow-ow-ow-ow-ownd the trumpet, play--a--a--a--"

"Don't, Peg!" cried Arthur sharply. "Don't, dear!" He was standing by her side by this time, and suddenly he wrapped his arms round her and laid his curly head on hers. "I'm plucked, Peg!" he cried, and his voice was full of tears. "Oh, Peg, I'm plucked! It's all over; I can never be a soldier. I'm plucked--plucked--plucked!"

"Arthur dear! Arthur darling!" cried Peggy loudly. She clasped her arms round his neck, and glared over his shoulder, like a tigress whose young has been threatened with danger. "You plucked! My brother plucked! Ho! ho! ho!" She gave a shrill peal of laughter. "It's impossible! You were first of all, the very first. You always are first. Who was wicked enough, and cruel enough, and false enough, to say that Arthur Saville was plucked in an examination?"