More About Peggy Part 1

More About Peggy.

by Mrs G. de Horne Vaizey.

CHAPTER ONE.

It was mid-January, and at home in England the ground was white with snow, but the sun shone down with brazen glare on the blue waters of the Bay of Bengal, along which a P and O steamer was gliding on its homeward way. An awning was hoisted over the deck, but not a breath of wind fluttered its borders, and the pa.s.sengers lay back in their deck-chairs too limp and idle to do more than flick over the pages of the books which they were pretending to read. It was only twenty-four hours since they had left Calcutta, and they were still in that early stage of journeying when they looked askance at their fellows, decided that never, no, never had Fate placed them in the midst of such uninteresting companions, and determined to keep severely to themselves during the rest of the voyage.

The stout lady in the white _pique_ stared stonily at the thin lady in drill, and decided that she was an "Impossible Person," blissfully unconscious of the fact that before Aden was reached she would pour all her inmost secrets into the "Impossible Person's" ear, and weep salt tears at parting from her at Ma.r.s.eilles. The mother of the sickly little girls in muslin swept them away to the other end of the deck when she discovered them playing with the children who inhabited the next state-room, and the men stared at one another stolidly across the smoking-room. The more experienced travellers knew that ere a week had pa.s.sed the scene would be changed, that a laughing babel of voices would succeed the silence, and deck sports and other entertainments take the place of inaction; but the younger members of the party saw no such alleviation ahead, and resigned themselves to a month of frosty solitude.

The ladies dozed amongst their cushions, but the men strolled up and down the deck smoking their cigars with that air of resigned dejection which seems to be the monopoly of Englishmen of the upper cla.s.ses. The quick movements, animated gestures, and sparkling eyes of the Southerner were all lacking in these strongly built, well-dressed, well-set-up men, who managed to conceal all signs of animation so successfully that no one looking at them could have believed that one was the wit of his regiment, another celebrated throughout an Indian province for his courage and daring, and a third an expectant bridegroom!

About eleven o'clock a diversion was made on the upper deck by the appearance of two more travellers--an elegant-looking woman accompanied by her husband, who came forward in search of the deck-chairs which had been placed in readiness for their use. They were not a young couple by any means, yet the eyes of the pa.s.sengers followed their movements with interest, for they were not only exceedingly good to look upon, but had an air of enjoyment in their surroundings and in each other's society which is unfortunately not universal among middle-aged couples. The man was tall and slight, with the weather-beaten, dried-up skin which tells of a long residence under burning suns, and he had a long nose, and eyes which appeared almost startlingly blue against the brown of his skin.

They were curious eyes, with a kind of latent fierceness in their good humour, but just now they shone in holiday mood, and softened into tenderness as he waited on his wife.

No sooner had this interesting couple seated themselves in their chairs than a chirrup of welcome sounded in their ears, and a beaming little figure in grey alpaca darted forward to greet them. Though the majority of pa.s.sengers in an ocean-going boat may be unsociably inclined at the start, there are always one or two exceptions to the rule to be found, in the shape of ultra-friendly souls, who, w.i.l.l.y-nilly, insist upon playing the part of devoted friends to some unresponsive stranger, and the old lady in question was one of these exceptions. She had begun operations the night before by quarrelling violently over the possession of a cabin, had then proceeded to borrow half-a-dozen necessities of the toilet which she had forgotten, and had advanced to the length of terms of endearment before the bell sounded for dinner. It was only natural then that she should exhibit a breathless anxiety to know how her new friend had fared during the night, and the invalid braced herself to bear the attack with composure.

"So glad to see you up this morning, dear!" she cried. "I was afraid you might be ill, but I asked your daughter about you, and was so relieved to hear good news. We met on deck before breakfast, and had a nice, long talk. Such a sweet creature! So different from the fast, loud-voiced specimens one meets nowadays. Quite an old-world girl, I declare; sweet, and mild, and gentle... 'A violet by a mossy dell, half-hidden from the eye'--as dear old What's-his-name has it! It does me good to be with her, and feel her restful influence. You are to be congratulated on owning such a daughter!"

"Thank you!" said the mild girl's mother softly. She dropped her eyelids, and twisted the rings round and round on her slender fingers, as if for some reason she did not wish to meet the speaker's eye, while her husband rose suddenly and walked to the end of the deck. When he came back, five minutes later, he remarked to his wife that there was no depending on weather signals nowadays; at which innocent remark she laughed so heartily that the friendly old lady instantly put down hysterics as the probable explanation of her delicate appearance, and felt a chilling of sympathy. In a few minutes she took herself off to some other friends, and the husband and wife whispered smilingly together, and, after the invariable custom on shipboard, fell to criticising their companions.

Perhaps the most striking figure which met their eyes was that of a young man some thirty years of age, whose walk and carriage plainly marked him out as an officer in the army. A certain pallor showing through his tanned skin made it seem possible that he was returning home on sick-leave, but he was a handsome fellow all the same with aquiline features and a heavy moustache, and he scanned the scene around him with an air of languid patronage, as one who felt that the P and O Company might feel themselves honoured to have the privilege of accommodating his n.o.ble self, and expected that even the ocean should show its best aspect for his benefit. Of the pa.s.sengers by whom he was surrounded the lordly stranger appeared entirely oblivious, not deigning to throw even a glance in their direction; and so strange a thing is human nature that the feminine portion, at least, felt their interest heightened by this indifference, and were increasingly anxious to make his acquaintance.

It did not seem likely that their desire would be granted on this occasion, at least, for as the morning wore on and the heat of the sun grew ever stronger and stronger, the object of their admiration took counsel with himself, and decided that it would be wisdom to retire within the shelter of the reading-room, and pa.s.s the hour before lunch in the company of a novel which he had brought on board with his effects. He had carried the book upstairs earlier in the morning, and placed it in a corner of the room where he believed it would be safe from alien hands; but, alas! the best-laid plans "gang aft a-gley," and when he went in search, he met with a shock of disappointment. The book had been appropriated, and the thief was seated in the very corner which he had destined for himself, bending over the pages with every appearance of absorption. Her face was hidden from view, and all that could be seen was a trim little figure in a trim white gown, a pair of trim little feet, a sleek brown head, and a well-rounded cheek. No one could deny that it was a pleasing figure, but the lordly stranger was too much ruffled in his feelings to be influenced by appearances. His manner was perhaps a trifle less haughty than it would have been, had the thief taken the shape of an elderly gentleman, but he never wavered in his intention, and only stopped for an imperceptible moment in his progress up the room to demand a return of the volume.

"Excuse me. Ah! _My_ book, I think! Sorry to interrupt you, but--"

The young lady laid down the book and lifted her face to his. A flicker as of mingled surprise and pleasure pa.s.sed over her features as she saw who it was that stood before her, but she showed not the slightest sign of discomfiture.

"I beg a thousand pardons!" she said, and inclined her head in such a bow as an empress might bestow on a blundering and ignorant supplicant.

It was such a very grand air for such a small person that the big officer drew a breath of surprise, and gazed down with a startled interest. The girl's features were delicately modelled; the brows might have been drawn with a pencil, so clear and perfect was the arch which they described, and the brilliant hazel eyes met his with a mocking glance. For almost the first time in his life a spasm of discomfiture seized him, a struggling suspicion that his conduct had not been altogether above reproach. He stood with the book in his hand, hesitating, uncertain.

"If you would care to read it, pray keep it! I shall be most happy to lend it to you."

The girl waved her hand with a gracious patronage.

"Not for the world, until you have finished! When you have no more use for it yourself, perhaps you will be good enough to renew the offer.

Meantime, there are plenty of other books. The library seems very large."

"I make a point of never reading the ship's books. You never--aw--know who has had them last!" drawled the stranger, sweeping a scathing glance over the well-filled shelves; "and, as a rule, they are in such shocking condition. People seem to take a malign satisfaction in tearing out the most important pages, so that, after wading through a whole volume, you are left in uncertainty as to what really happened."

"But sometimes that is a blessing in disguise, for by exercising a little imagination you can make the story end as you like, and spare yourself the pain of disappointment. I rarely read a book without reflecting how much better I could have finished it myself," remarked the young lady, with an a.s.surance which evoked a smile on the officer's impa.s.sive countenance.

"You don't look much like an auth.o.r.ess," he said, surveying the dainty little figure approvingly, and calling up a mental picture of the spectacled and cadaverous female invariably a.s.sociated with a literary career in the masculine mind. "I am afraid my imagination will hardly stand such a strain; but books are the only refuge for the dest.i.tute on a voyage, especially during the first few days, when you find yourself shut up with a herd of strangers whom you have never met before in the course of your life. There is only one thing to do under the circ.u.mstances, and that is to lie low, and speak to no one until you have found your bearings and discovered who is who. If you go about talking to strangers, you can never tell in what sort of a set you may land yourself."

"You can't, indeed! It's appalling to think of!" agreed the young lady, with a dramatic gesture of dismay which brought her little ringed hands together in decided emphasis. "For my own part I get on well enough,"

she proceeded, contradicting herself with unruffled composure, "for I can find something interesting in all of my fellow-creatures; but I feel it for my maid! The couriers and valets are so _very_ exclusive that she has been snubbed more than once because of our inferior station.

Naturally she feels it keenly. I observe that those people are most sensitive about their position who have the least claim to distinction; but as she does my hair better than any one else, and is an admirable dressmaker, I am, of course, anxious to keep her happy."

The big man looked down with a suspicious glance. Through his not very keen sensibilities there had penetrated the suspicion that the small person in the white frock was daring to smile at him and amuse herself at his expense; but his suspicion died at once before the glance of infantile sweetness which met his own. Pretty little thing! there was something marvellously taking in her appearance. For one moment, as she had spoken of inferior station, he had had an uneasy fear lest he had made the acquaintance of some vulgar upstart, with whom he could not possibly a.s.sociate. But no! If ever the signs of race and breeding were distinguishable in personal appearance, they were so in the case of the girl before him. A glance at the head in its graceful setting, the delicate features, the dainty hands and feet, was sufficient to settle the question in the mind of a man who prided himself on being an adept in such matters. To his own surprise, he found himself floundering through a complimentary denial of her own estimate of herself, and being rescued from a breakdown by a gracious acknowledgment.

"Praise," murmured the young lady sweetly--"praise from Major Darcy is praise indeed! When 'Haughty Hector' deigns to approve--"

The big man jumped as if he had been shot, and turned a flushed, excited face upon her.

"Wh-at?" he gasped. "What do you say? You know me--you know my old home name! Who are you, then? Who can you be?"

The girl rose to her feet and stood before him. The top of her smooth little head barely reached his shoulders, but she held herself with an air of dignity which gave an appearance of far greater height. For one long minute they stared at one another in silence; then she stretched out her hand and laid it frankly in his own.

"Why, I'm Peggy!" she cried. "Don't you remember me? I'm Peggy Saville!"

CHAPTER TWO.

Hector Darcy knitted his brows, and started in bewilderment at the little figure before him. "Peggy Saville!" he repeated blankly. "No, you cannot mean it! The little girl who had lessons with Rob, and who saved Rosalind's life at the time of the fire? The little girl I met at The Larches with the pale face, and the pink sash, and the pigtail down her back?"

"The self-same Peggy--at your service!"--and Miss Saville swept a curtesy in which dignity mingled with mischief. Her eyes were sparkling with pleasure, and Major the Honourable Hector Darcy--to give that gentleman his full t.i.tle--looked hardly less radiant than herself. Here was a piece of luck--to make the acquaintance of an interesting and attractive girl at the very beginning of a voyage, and then to discover in her an intimate friend of the family! True, he himself had seen little of her personally, but the name of Peggy Saville was a household word with his people, and one memorable Christmas week, which they had spent together at The Larches in years gone by, might be safely accepted as the foundation of a friendship.

"Of course I remember you!" he cried. "We had fine romps together, you and I. You danced me off my feet one night, and gave me my death of cold putting up a snow man the next day. I have never forgotten Peggy Saville, but you have changed so much that I did not recognise you, and I did not see your name."

"I noticed yours in the list of pa.s.sengers, and then I looked out for you, and recognised you at once. There was a Darcy look about the back of your head which could not be mistaken! I meant to ask father to introduce you to me after lunch, but the book has taken his place. So you think I have changed! I have 'growed,' of course, and the pigtail has disappeared; but in other respects there is not so much alteration as could be desired. My father tells me, on an average three times a day, that I shall remain the same 'Peggy-Pickle' all my life."

"That sounds bad! So far as my remembrance goes, you used to be a mischievous little person, always getting into sc.r.a.pes and frightening the wits out of your companions."

"Ah!" sighed Miss Saville dolorously. "Ah-h!" She shook her head with a broken-hearted air, and looked so overwhelmed with compunction for her misdeeds, that if it had not been for a treacherous dimple that defied her control, the major would have felt remorseful at awakening a painful memory. As it was he laughed heartily, and cried aloud:

"When you look like that, I can see you again with the pigtail and the white frock, just as you looked that Christmas half-a-dozen years ago!

Your father is right--you have not changed a bit from the little Peggy I used to know!"

"I'm a full-fledged young lady now, Major Darcy, and have been 'out' for three whole years. I've grown into 'Miss Saville,' or at the very least into 'Mariquita.'"

"But not to me. I'm part of the old times; Rosalind's brother--Rob's brother--you cannot treat me like a stranger. Peggy you have been, and Peggy you must be, so far as I am concerned, for I could not recognise you by another name. Sit down and tell me all about yourself. How long have you been in India, and where are you bound for now?"

"I came out three years ago, when I was eighteen, and now we are going home for good. I'm so glad, for though I've enjoyed India immensely, there is no place like the old country. Mother is not strong, so we are going to stay on the Continent until it is warm enough to return safely.

We shall land at Ma.r.s.eilles, stay a month in the Riviera, and gradually work our way homewards. When I say home, of course you understand that we have no home as yet, but we are going to look round for a house as soon as possible. We know exactly what we want, so it ought to be easy to get it. A dear old place in the country--the _real_ country, not a suburb, but within half an hour's rail of town. A house covered with roses and creepers, and surrounded by a garden. Oh! think of seeing English gra.s.s again--the green, _green_ gra.s.s, and walking along between hedges of wild roses and honeysuckle; and the smell of the earth after it has rained, and all the little leaves are glistening with water--do you remember--oh! do you remember?" cried Peggy, clasping her eager hands, and gazing at her companion with a sudden glimmer of tears which rose from very excess of happiness. "I don't say so to mother, because it would seem as if I had not been happy abroad; but I _ache_ for England! Sometimes in the midst of the Indian glare I used to have a curious wild longing, not for the Country... that was always there--but for the dull, old Tottenham Court Road! Don't laugh! It was no laughing matter. You know how dull that road looks, how ugly and grimy, and how grey, grey, grey in rainy weather? Well, amidst the glare of Eastern surroundings that scene used to come back to me as something so thoroughly, typically English, that its very dreariness made the attraction. I have stood in the midst of palm and aloes, and just longed my very heart out for Tottenham Court Road!"

Major Darcy laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I know the feeling--had it myself; but you will lose it soon enough.

In the East you gasp and long for England; in England you shudder and long for the East. It's the way of the world. What you haven't got seems always the thing you want; but no sooner have you got it than you realise its defects. England will strike you as intolerably dreary when you are really there."

Peggy shook her head obstinately.

"Never! I was ablaze with patriotism before I left, and I have been growing worse and worse all the time I have been abroad. And it will _not_ be dreary! What is the use of imagining disagreeable things? You might just as well imagine nice ones while you are about it. Now _I_ imagine that it is going to be a perfect summer--clear, and fine, and warm, with the delicious warmth which is so utterly different from that dreadful India scald. And father and I are going to turn gardeners, and trot about all day long tending our plants. Did I tell you that we were going to have a garden? Oh yes--a beauty!--with soft turf paths, bordered with roses, and every flower that blooms growing in the borders. We will have an orchard, too, where the spring bulbs come up among the gra.s.s; and I've set my heart on a moat. It has been the dream of my life to have a moat. 'Mariquita of the Moated Grange!'... Sounds well, doesn't it? It would be good for me to have an address like that, for I possess a strong instinct of fitness, and make a point of living up to my surroundings." Peggy lay back in her seat and coughed in the languid, Anglo-Indian fashion which was her latest accomplishment. "I suppose you don't happen to know the sort of house that would suit us?"

"Within half an hour of London? No! That is too much to ask. It's a Chateau en Espagne, Peggy, and not to be had in Middles.e.x. You will have to do like the rest of the world, and settle down in a red brick villa, with a plot of uncultivated land out of which to manufacture your garden. There will be neither green sward nor festoons of roses; but, on the other hand, the house will contain every modern convenience, and there will be hot and cold water, electric light--"

"Don't!" cried Peggy hastily. She lifted her hand with a gesture of entreaty, and Hector was startled to see how seriously she had taken his jesting words. "Don't laugh at me! I've been dreaming of it so long, and it's such a dear, dear dream. Do you realise that in all my life I have never had a permanent home? It has been a few years here, a few years there, with always the certainty of another change ahead; but now we mean to find a real home, where we can take refuge, with all our possessions around us. Mother and I have talked about it until we can _see_ every nook and corner, and it is waiting for us somewhere--I know it is! So don't be sceptical, and pretend that it is not! We won't talk about houses any more, but you shall tell me your own news. It is four years since I saw Rob and Rosalind, as they were abroad for the year before I left England. But you have been home since then, I know."