Peggy Stewart, Navy Girl, at Home Part 26

Captain Stewart had been curious to see whether "Howland number four would uphold the showing of the family," as he teasingly told Polly, and Polly who was immensely proud of her pretty sister had brindled and protested that: "Gail was the very best looking one of the family."

"Then she must be going some," he insisted.

She was a sunny, bonny sight in spite of a dusty ride down from Northampton, and Captain Stewart was at the steps to help her from the auto which had been sent up to the New London station to meet her. She stepped out after her mother and Constance, but before Mrs. Howland had a chance to present her Captain Stewart laid a pair of kindly hands upon her shoulders, held her from him a moment, peering at her from under his thick eyebrows in a manner which made a pretty color mantle her cheeks, then said with seeming irrelevance:

"No, the Howland family doesn't lie, but on the other hand they don't invariably convey the whole truth. You'll pa.s.s, little girl. Yes, you'll pa.s.s, and you don't look a day older than Polly and Peggy even if you are hiding away a sheepskin somewhere in that suitcase yonder. Yes, I'll adopt you as my girl, and by crackey I'm going to seal it," and with that he took the bonny face in both hands and kissed each rosy cheek.

Poor Gail, if the skies had dropped she couldn't have been more nonplussed. She had heard a good deal of the people she was to visit but had never pictured THIS reception, and for once the girl who had been president of her cla.s.s and carried off a dozen other honors, was as fussed as a schoolgirl.

Peggy came to her rescue.

Running up to her she slipped her arms about her and cried:

"Don't mind Daddy Neil. We are all wild to know you and we're just BOUND to love you. How could we help it? You belong to us now, you know. Come with me. You are to have the room right next ours--Polly's and mine, I mean--and everything will be perfectly lovely."

Within three days after Gail's arrival Happy, Wheedles and Shortie had to leave for their own homes, as their families were clamoring for some of their society during that brief month's leave before they joined their ships. But fortune favored them in one respect, for Happy and Wheedles were ordered to the Connecticut, the flag-ship of the Atlantic fleet, and Shortie to Snap's ship, the Rhode Island in the same fleet.

So, contrary to the usual order of things where men in the Academy have been such chums, their ways would not wholly divide.

Two weeks later the practice ships weighed anchor for Newport, and the party at Navy Bungalow was broken up. Mrs. Howland, Constance, Gail and Snap returned to Montgentian. Captain Stewart and Captain Harold were obliged to rejoin their ships, Mrs. Harold, with Polly and Peggy, going on to Newport, thence along the coast, following the practice squadron until its return to Annapolis the last day of August when all midshipmen go on a month's leave and the Academy is deserted.

Mrs. Harold was to spend September with her sister, a pleasure upon which she had long counted. Peggy was invited to join her, but alas!

Captain Stewart had rendered THAT impossible by asking his sister-in-law to pa.s.s September at Severndale.

Of this Peggy had not learned at once, but was bitterly disappointed when she did, though she strove to conceal it from her father, when, too late, he awakened to what he had done.

Mrs. Stewart had contrived to spend as many hours as possible at Navy Bungalow, but she had certainly not succeeded in winning the friendship of its inmates, and Neil Stewart bitterly regretted the impulse which had prompted him to invite her to Severndale. When too late he realized that he had fallen into a cleverly planned trap, dragging Peggy with him. And what was still worse, that there would be no one at hand to help her out of the situation into which his short-sightedness had involved her. As a last resort he wrote to Dr. Llewellyn:

"I've been seven kinds of a fool. Watch out for Peggy. She's up against it, I am afraid, and it is all my doing. I'll write you at length later.

Meanwhile, I'm afraid there'll be ructions."

Poor Dr. Llewellyn was hopelessly bewildered by that letter and prepared for almost anything.

Mrs. Harold and Polly bade Peggy good-bye at New York. Jerome and Mammy acting as her body-guard upon the homeward journey.

It was a hard wrench, and the two girls who had been such close companions for so long felt the separation keenly.

"But you know we'll meet in October and have all next winter before us,"

were Polly's optimistic parting words, little guessing how the coming winter would be changed for both her and Peggy.

It had been arranged that Mrs. Stewart should arrive at Severndale on the fifth of September. Peggy reached there on the second and in a half- hearted way went about her preparations for receiving her aunt.

Nor were Mammy and Jerome more enthusiastic. They had pretty thoroughly sized up their expected guest while at New London.

Nevertheless, n.o.blesse oblige was the watchword at Severndale.

CHAPTER XIX

BACK AT SEVERNDALE

The first two days of Peggy's return to Severndale were almost overwhelming for the girl. True, Dr. Llewellyn met and welcomed her, and strove in his gentle, kindly manner to make the lonely home-coming a little less lonely. It was all so different from what she had antic.i.p.ated. That he was there to welcome her at all was a mere chance.

He had planned a trip north and completed all his arrangements, when an old, and lifelong friend fell desperately ill. Deferring his trip for the friend's sake, Neil Stewart's letter caught him before his departure, and after reading that his own pleasures and wishes were set aside. Duty, which had ever been his watchword, held him at Severndale.

"When questioned by him--circ.u.mspectly it is true--Peggy's answers conveyed no idea of pending trouble, nor did they alter his charitable view of the world or his fellow beings.

"Why, Filiola, I think it must be the very happiest solution of the situation here: I am getting too old and prosy to make life interesting for you; your father will not be retired for several years yet, so there is little hope of your claiming his companionship; Mrs. Harold is a most devoted friend, but friendships in the service must so often be broken by the exigencies of the duties; she may be compelled to leave Annapolis at almost any time, and if she is, your friend Polly will be obliged to leave also. Why, little one, it seems to me quite providential that you should have met your aunt in New London and that she will visit you here," and good Dr. Llewellyn stroked with gentle touch the pretty brown hair resting against his shoulder, and looked smilingly down upon the troubled young face.

"Yes, Compadre, I know you think it will be quite for the best and I'm sure it would if--if--"

Peggy paused. She hated to say anything uncomplimentary of the person whom the law said she must regard as her aunt.

"Are you prejudiced, my dear?"

There was mild reproof in Dr. Llewellyn's tone.

"I am afraid I am. You see I have been with the 'Little Mother,' and I do love her so, and Polly's mother, too, and oh, Compadre, she is lovely. Perfectly lovely. If you could only see Polly with her. There is something--something in their att.i.tude toward each other which makes me understand just what Mamma and I might have been to each other had she lived. I never guessed what it meant until last winter, or felt it as I did up there in New London. Daddy Neil is dear and precious but Mamma and I would have been just what Polly and HER mother are to each other; I know it."

"Will it not be possible for you and your aunt to grow very deeply attached to one another? She, I understand, is quite alone in the world, and you should mean a great deal to each other."

Peggy's slight form shuddered ever so little in his circling arm. That little shudder conveyed more to Dr. Llewellyn than a volume of words could have done. He knew the sensitive, high-strung girl too well not to comprehend that there must be something in Mrs. Peyton Stewart's personality which grated harshly upon her, and concluded that it would be wiser not to pursue the subject.

"Go for a spin upon Shashai's silky back, and let Tzaritza's long leaps carry yon into a world of gladness. Nelly has been asking for you and the five-mile ride to her home will put things straighter."

"I'll go," answered Peggy, and left him to get into her linen riding skirt, for it was still very warm in Maryland.

From the moment of her return Tzaritza had never left Peggy's side, and her horses, especially Shashai, Roy and Star had greeted her with every demonstration of affection. She now made her way to the paddock intending to take out her favorite, but when she called him the other two came bounding toward her, nozzling, whinnying, begging for her caresses.

"What SHALL I do with all three of you?" cried Peggy. "I can't ride three at once."

"You'll be having one grand time to git shet o' the other two whichever one you DO take; they've been consoling themselves for your absence by stickin' together as thick as thieves: Where one goes, there goes 'tothers," laughed Shelby, who had gone down to the paddock with her.

"Then let them come along if they want to," and Peggy joined in the laugh.

"You couldn't lose 'em if you tried; first they love you, and then they're so stuck on each other you'd think it was one body with a dozen legs."

Without another word Peggy sprang to Shashai's back. Then with the clear whistle her pets knew so well, was off down the road. That was a mad, wild gallop but when she came to Nelly's home her cheeks were glowing and her eyes shining as of old.

"Oh, HAVE you seen Pepper and Salt?" was almost the first question Nelly asked.

"Well, I guess I have, and aren't they wonders? Oh, I'm so glad I saw them that day. Do you know they are to be entered in the horse-show and the steeple-chase this fall? Well, they are. Shelby has made them such beauties. But now tell me all about yourself. I'm going to write to Polly tonight and she will never forgive me if I don't tell her just everything. You are looking perfectly fine. And how is the knee?"

"Just as well as its mate. I wouldn't know I had ever been lame. Your doctor is a wonder, Miss Peggy, and he was so kind. He said you told him you had adopted me and he was bound to take extra good care of me because I was YOUR girl now. I didn't know you had told him to attend me until after you had gone away and I can't thank you enough, but father is so worried because he thinks he will never be able to pay such a bill as Doctor Kendall's ought to be for curing me. But I tell him it will come out all right, just as it always has before, for things are looking up right smart on the farm now. Tom and Jerry certainly do earn their keep, as Mr. Shelby said they would, and they are so splendid and big and round and roly-poly, and strong enough to pull up a tree, father says. Don't you want to come and see them?"

"Indeed I do," and following the beaming, healthy girl whose once pale cheeks were now rounded and rosy, Peggy walked to the stump lot just beyond the little cottage where she was heartily greeted by Jim Bolivar, who said:

"Well, if it ain't a sight fit ter chirker up a dead man ter see ye back again, Miss Peggy. Will you shake hands with me, miss? It's a kind o'