More About Peggy Part 14

"I knew it! I knew it was coming! She affected to ask my advice, but I told her it was waste of time, as she had really made up her mind what she meant to do. Then she began to cry, and said I was cruel, and went away with you so willingly that I thought perhaps, after all, I had judged too quickly, for she _does_ care for you, Arthur, I know she does! She could not deny that, I suppose?"

"No, she did not deny it. She loves me in her own way, but it's not my way, Peg--or yours! She would have been happy with me if I had been rich, but she is not prepared to make any sacrifices on my account, and would rather give me up than live a quiet, restricted life. She does not even understand how much she is losing, poor girl, or how little satisfaction she will get in return!"

Peggy set her lips tightly.

"No, she does not understand, and that makes one sorry for her, for she misses just the best thing in life. I used to think when I was a child that the thing I wanted most was for people to love me--not in an ordinary, calm, matter-of-fact sort of way, you know, but to love me _frightfully_, and care for me more than any one else in the world! I used to put myself to any amount of trouble to be agreeable, for even if I did not care for a person myself, it worried me to death if that person were not devoted to me! There were thirty-six girls at school besides the governesses, so you may imagine how exhausting it was to be nice to them all. Well, I've come to the conclusion that it's a mistake. It's sweet to be loved, but it's ever so much sweeter to love.

It is so inspiring to forget all about one's tiresome little self, and care more for somebody else. When I love people, I feel," Peggy threw back her head and expanded her little shoulders with a terrific breath, "_omnipotent_! There is nothing I could not _be_ or _do_ or suffer to help them. The more they need from me the happier I am. Don't you know how you feel after listening to a beautiful sermon--that you really wish something disagreeable would happen, to give you an opportunity of behaving well and being sweet and unselfish? Well, that's just how one feels in a lesser way to the people one loves on earth. It's how I feel to you at this moment, Arthur darling, when I know you are suffering. I wish I could take all the misery and bear it for you. Is your heart quite broken, you dear old lad?"

"No, Peg, it is not. I feel miserable enough, but I don't delude myself that I have received a life-long wound. It has been a dream, you know, a schoolboy's dream, but I always realised that the princess was not for me. She is so lovely that one's heart goes out to her instinctively, but it never seemed possible to think of her as a part of my work-a-day life. It's dreary work walking in the cold grey light and realising that the dream is over, but I shall pull myself together as time goes on, and make the best of what remains."

"You will be surprised to discover how much that is! There are many people left who love you and long to make you happy, and in time to come you will be thankful that things are arranged as they are. There are dozens of other girls who are far better worth winning--"

"But I don't happen to want them! That makes all the difference!"

sighed Arthur sadly. "Ah, Peg, it is easy to be philosophical for another person. I could offer volumes of common-sense consolations to another fellow in my position, but they fall very flat when it comes to one's own turn. It is impossible to judge for another person."

"Yet onlookers see most of the game, and no one could know you and Rosalind, and not feel that you were a thousand times too good for her!

Think of mother! Think of Mrs Asplin! Compare her with them, and you will see how different she is. I can quite understand your feelings, for she fascinated me, too, and, however stern I mean to be, I have to give in when she takes the trouble to smile upon me; but one wants something more than pretty ways, and she would have disappointed you, Arthur, I know she would! You would have found her empty-headed and unsympathetic just where you needed sympathy most."

"Ah, well, well, we won't discuss her any more. It is not our business.

If you want to please me, Peg, you will be as friendly as possible when you meet. She will have her own troubles to bear, poor girl, and it will be all the easier for you, since you believe that I have had a fortunate escape."

He tried to smile, but it was an unsuccessful attempt, and Peggy realised that the wound was as yet too fresh to bear handling. The time would come when Arthur would be ready to receive consolation, but now it was easy to see that depreciation of Rosalind's character only added to his distress. He did not attempt to contradict his sister's statements, but no doubt the fact that he was unable to do so was the bitterest drop in his cup. Peggy clasped her arms round his arm and looked into his face with wistful eyes.

"Oh, Arthur, I wonder why it is that the two things which you have cared for most in your life have both been denied to you? You wanted two things--just two--and they have both ended in disappointment! If you had been wilful and selfish, it would have been different, but you never were that. You worked hard, and thought of other people before yourself, and still nothing has gone right! How is it? Why is it? Why should it be?"

Arthur shook his head sadly.

"I don't know, Peg. My luck, I suppose," he replied in a tone so dejected that it brought the tears to his sister's eyes.

"No, it is not your luck," she contradicted quickly. "I know what it is--it has just come to me this minute. It is because G.o.d has better things waiting for you! It is all rough and miserable just now, but further along the path it will get beautiful again. Oh, I believe it will be very beautiful; and when you get there, Arthur, you will be thankful that you went on, and did not stop half-way."

"Dear little Peg," he said fondly, "I hope I shall. It's a cheery thought, and I'll adopt it forthwith, and try to look ahead, not backwards, and you must do the same. No more tears, please! You must help me by being bright and talking persistently of some thing else.

And now I must go, or you will never be ready for that dinner you want so badly. I'm wery hungry myself, so please don't keep us waiting."

He hurried out of the room, leaving Peggy to continue her hairdressing operations with a tear trickling slowly over her cheek, and a speculative expression in her eye.

Hungry? But he had no business to be hungry! Never in the course of her readings had she come across the case of a rejected lover openly avowing an impatience for dinner, and, despite her anxiety for her brother's happiness, Peggy could not subdue a certain regret that he should have showed such a painful inconsistency in the performance of his part!

The next day brought the visit to London to a conclusion, but Peggy said her adieux with the pleasant expectation of meeting her friends again before many weeks were over. When Parliament rose, Arthur would be free, and had agreed all the more willingly to come down to Yew Hedge, as Rosalind and her father would at that time be visiting Lady Darcy in Switzerland. An invitation to Eunice for the same time had also been eagerly accepted, and Peggy was full of rose-coloured schemes for the amus.e.m.e.nt of her guests.

"Picture to yourself, my dear," she cried tragically, "that never yet have I had the pleasure of entertaining a friend in my own domain! I don't know if you will enjoy yourself, but I am sure that I shall. I have views on the subject of hospitality, and am anxious to test them.

So I shall treat you like a puppet, and play all sorts of experiments on you to try the effect. I should wish you to feel tired sometimes in the morning, and stay in bed to breakfast, so that I could wait upon you, and to be too lazy to dress yourself now and again, so that I could arrange your hair in different styles. If you could manage to be a little ill, it would be charming, for then I could nurse you and be severe about your diet, but if you keep wen, we will make the best of it, and entertain the neighbourhood. I'll set to work at once to plan something original and startling."

"Oh, do!" cried Eunice eagerly. "I'd love to be startled. I shall look forward to coming every single day until the time arrives, and be the most obedient of puppets. You are a dear, Peggy--I _do_ love you! I'm so grateful to you for being kind to me."

"It's my nature, dear. Go on deserving it. Three remarks at least I insist upon at every meal, and if you could increase the number to six, I should be correspondingly gratified. Don't stare at the carpet, don't look frightened when there is nothing to be frightened at, and look after my beloved brother for my sake. Those are my last instructions for your guidance. Arthur feels lonely sometimes, just as you do, and it would help you both if you would talk to him sometimes, or, still better, let him talk to you. Men, my dear," sighed Miss Peggy with an air of experience, "men like nothing better than to talk of themselves with a woman as audience. Ask questions about his work, his plans, his thoughts, and he will go on talking happily, so long as you will sit and listen to him. You could do that, at least, if you could not talk yourself."

"Oh yes, easily. I'd like it. I love to hear him talk," a.s.sented Eunice naively. She fixed her soft shy eyes upon Peggy's face as she spoke, and that young lady felt that she had shown her usual shrewdness in suggesting such an arrangement, for a sweeter _confidante_ it would have been difficult to find, or one more ready with sympathetic interest.

With her usual tactfulness Eunice declined to accompany Peggy to the station, so that her presence should put no check upon the last conversation between brother and sister, but no reference was made on either side to the event of two days before. Arthur seemed anxious to talk on impersonal subjects, so they discussed the old friends and their doings--Esther and her theories, Mellicent and her romances, and sent affectionate memories after the two absentees, Rex working his uphill way in the world, and Oswald in his luxurious home. It was always a happy task to recall bygone days, and the "Do you remember?" filled up the conversation until the last moment arrived, and Peggy leant out of the carriage window looking down upon Arthur with an anxious scrutiny.

The dear face looked worn and thin, and the forehead showed a couple of lines which she had never seen before.

"Oh, Arthur, I wish I were staying longer, or that you were coming home with me!" she cried impetuously. "I can't bear leaving you alone just now. You need to be petted and coddled and made a fuss of, you dear old boy, and I am desolated that I can't do it! What is the use of having a sister, if she can't do anything for you when you are in trouble?"

"She has done a great deal for me already, and is such a sympathetic person, Peg, that I am afraid she would spoil me altogether if she had her way! It's just as well that we have to be separated for a time, for the less I think of myself the better. It can do no good, and only unfit me for work. I'm going to set my teeth and begin afresh.

Consolation prohibited, my dear, but hints for support and occupation thankfully received!"

And then had Peggy an inspiration! A flash of mischievous enjoyment lit up the hazel eyes, but before Arthur had time to discover it, it had disappeared and been replaced by an innocent little smile.

"You might do a good turn to Eunice by cheering her up after my loss!

It would be beneficial for you to make the effort, and the Rollos would be grateful. It is not easy to make her talk, but you would find it worth the effort, for she has sweet thoughts, and--on occasion--a pretty little wit of her own!"

"On somewhat rare occasions, I should say," replied Arthur, smiling; but all the same he looked pleased at the suggestion, and the smile lingered on his lips, as at some pleasant remembrance.

When the whistle sounded and the train began to move onwards, he waved his hand and nodded a cheery a.s.sent.

"Right, Peg! For the credit of the family, your pupil shall not be allowed to fall back into her old ways. I'll do my duty towards her."

"Mind you do!" cried Peggy, and flopped down on her seat with a soft explosion of laughter. "Ha! ha!" she cried aloud. "Ha! ha!" and flourished her magazine in triumph.

The next moment she became aware that an old lady seated in the opposite corner was regarding her with glances of apprehension, and stealthily fumbling for her umbrella as a possible means of defence.

"She thinks I am mad!" quoth Miss Peggy to herself, "How truly gratifying! I must foster the delusion." She turned her magazine ostentatiously upside down, smiled vacantly at the pictures, and feigning to fall asleep, watched beneath her eyelashes the compa.s.sionate glances with which she was regarded, shaking the while with inward laughter!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A week after her return to Yew Hedge, Peggy was on her way to tea at the vicarage, when she was joined by Rob Darcy, who jumped over a wall at her approach, and exhibited an extraordinary amount of surprise at seeing her, considering how long he had been on the outlook for just such an event.

"Where are you going, my pretty maid?" he demanded, "and--"

"I'm going to the vicarage, sir," she said promptly, with an accompaniment of old-fas.h.i.+oned curtsey which brought the twinkle into Rob's eyes.

However solemn he might be, he never could resist a smile at Peggy's saucy ways, and to-day indeed he did not appear solemn at all, but unusually beaming and radiant.

"Then I'll go with you, my pretty maid, for I've been asked too, in a breathless note from Mellicent, with neither beginning nor ending, nor comma nor full stop. If any one else had written in such a state of agitation, I should have thought something thrilling had occurred, but Mellicent is guaranteed to go off her head on the slightest provocation.

Probably it is nothing more exciting than a cake or a teacloth which is to be used for the first time. She said that I _must_ come, whatever happened, for it was dreadfully important, but I have really not thought much about what it could be, for I am accustomed to receiving violent summonses which mean nothing at all. The first time I ran nearly half the way, and arrived with a purple face and such a st.i.tch in my side as nearly finished my mortal career, and she said: 'Oh, have you come? I didn't think you would. I want to show you my new hat!' Another time she was out, and had forgotten that she had asked me at all; but as she has asked you too, that will hardly be the case to-day."

Peggy threw back her head and regarded Rob with a curious scrutiny.

"Methinks I perceive an air of unusual festivity in my venerable friend.

It takes a great deal to rouse him to any sign of feeling, so one must needs conclude that some important event had occurred. May one inquire its nature?"

"Peggy may, if she cares to hear it!" returned Rob briefly. "I have had one or two pieces of good luck lately, Mariquita, which have cheered me up. That's all. I want to earn some money, you know, and not depend entirely on what the father allows me. My books and papers have done well in one sense, though there's not much money to be made out of scientific writing, but now I believe I see my way to making a good thing out of my plants. I think I told you before that I have sold some of the specimens which I brought home at a very good price, and I have one shrub in particular which is bringing in quite a little income.

It's a species of broom which I discovered in the most accidental fas.h.i.+on. I was on a hunting expedition one day when I was in Africa, and was hiding behind a clump of broom, when I noticed that one bush was different from the rest. They were plain, but it was mottled in two distinct shades of the same colour. It was evidently a freak, a disease of some sort, as such variations generally are, but it was uncommonly pretty all the same. I had never seen anything of the kind before, and, without conceit, I may say that I know a good deal more about plants than the ordinary professional gardener. Well, I examined it, and it occurred to me, Peg, that it would be a much better day's work to secure that shrub than to go on with my sport. I unloaded my gun, marked the spot, and had a look round, to see if I could find any further specimens, but no, all the rest were the ordinary type. The first bush was the one exception. Luckily it was not very big, and I managed to dig it up and get it home alive, and after that there was no difficulty, for it is healthy enough, and grows almost as well as the common species. I set to work striking cuttings, and, after waiting until I had a good supply on hand, sent specimens of the bloom to several big nurserymen. They took it up at once with the utmost keenness, and I am now able to sell cuttings as fast as I can strike them, and for a very good price into the bargain. Of course this won't last for ever, because by degrees other people will get their own stock, but luckily the plant is a slow grower, and meantime they are obliged to come to me, and I have the monopoly of the market. So my travels have turned out more of a success in a monetary sense than I expected, and I am beginning to realise that a man who understands botany, and who has also a love for roaming about forbidden lands, may discover unknown treasures, and do well for himself by bringing them home. It is a happy discovery for me, for I have no chance in the beaten lines, and it will be a solution of many difficulties if I can make a little money in this way."

"You will go away, you mean? You will leave England and go abroad?"

queried Peggy, with a feeling that the foundations of the earth were giving way beneath her, and that life itself was a delusion, since, at a moment's notice, the pillar of strength on which she had depended above all others could calmly announce its own purpose of withdrawal. "Do you mean that you will settle there altogether, and never come home any more?" She was under the impression that she had put the question in a calm and impersonal manner, but in reality there was a wistful tremor in the voice which Rob was quick to catch.