More About Peggy Part 22

But Arthur vowed that not another spring was to be found, and, thus rea.s.sured, Esther opened in turns a spice-box, a nutmeg-grater, a box of matches, a flour dredger, and a bundle of clothes-pegs.

Each object was greeted with a fresh peal of laughter from the onlookers, who, having recovered from the first disappointment, thoroughly enjoyed the joke played upon the sober Esther, while Esther herself tried hard to be superior and scathing, and Peggy's bright eyes roamed round in search of a final development.

It was not like Arthur, she told herself, to disappoint a friend even in fun, and she felt convinced that the joke would not end as it had begun.

One by one she picked up the scattered articles and examined them gingerly. The mouse-trap was guiltless of bait, the spice-box empty as when it left the shop, but the matchbox felt strangely heavy. She shook it, and felt something tilt forward, peeped inside, and spied a small morocco box.

"Joolery! Joolery!" shrieked Mellicent loudly. "It is--I said it was!

Oh, the darling--sweety--pet! I wish--I wish I were going to be married!"

It was the daintiest little diamond brooch that was ever seen. A gold bar with a cl.u.s.ter of stones in the centre; handsome, yet un.o.btrusive; brilliant, yet modest; the very thing to suit at once the bride's quiet taste, and the sphere into which she was going. She was unaffectedly charmed, holding it out to the light to admire the stones, her own eyes almost as bright as themselves.

"Oh, Arthur dear, and I called you mean! It was just like you to choose a ridiculous way of giving this lovely present. Fancy me with a diamond brooch--I shall feel so grand. How can I ever thank you enough?"

Mrs Asplin dropped a tear on the shabby table-cloth, for she never _could_ resist a tear when she was very happy, and Mellicent wailed sadly:

"I wish I were married! I wish I were married! It would suit me far better than her. I wish I had been engaged first, after all, because now every one will give Esther a present as a compliment to the family, and when it comes to my turn they will think they have done their duty, and send nothing at all, or only some horrid, niggly little thing like a bread-fork or crumb-scoop! I just know how it will be--"

"But you won't need presents, dear. You are going to marry a millionaire, and live in the lap of luxury ever after. You settled that years ago," said Peggy slyly; but Arthur smiled rea.s.suringly in the troubled face, and said:

"Never mind, Chubby, you shall have exactly the same present from me, at any rate! Diamond brooch, mouse-trap, clothes-pegs, all complete. I'll stand by you. Just drop me a line when it's settled, and I will look after them at once."

"Oh, thank you, Arthur--I will!" agreed Mellicent with a fervour which evoked a peal of laughter from her companions. Esther gathered together her possessions and ran off to her own room to put on her dress, and Mrs Asplin escorted her visitors to the drawing-room, where tea was served for their refreshment. Another woman might have apologised for the shabby dress which she had donned for a hard day's work, and felt uncomfortable at having been discovered in such guise by a young lady accustomed to move in the highest circle of London society, but that was not Mrs Asplin's way. She seated herself in the sunniest seat that the room afforded, and picked off the odd ends of thread which were scattered over her skirt with smiling unconcern, too much engrossed in thinking of her guests to have any care for her own appearance. She made Eunice sit beside her, and seeing that the girl looked shy, chatted away to her in friendly Irish fas.h.i.+on, so as to put her at her ease.

Her face lightened as she did so, for she was thinking to herself: "But she is charming! A dear, little tender face that might be quite beautiful some day. The child is half alive, but if some one woke her up--I wonder now if Arthur--" She turned suddenly, and met Arthur's eyes fixed upon her, intent and questioning, as if for some reason he was keenly interested in her impressions of Eunice Rollo. Was it imagination, or did he flush beneath her questioning glance? For one moment she felt sure that he did, but the next it seemed as if she must have been mistaken, for he was addressing her with all his wonted self- possession.

"Mater, I've been telling these girls that I'm going to get up a picnic next week. I want to arrange some sort of a jollification before Esther goes, and a picnic seems the best thing to try for in this weather.

Professor Reid will be here, so he will take care of Esther, and I'll get the two Darcys to join, and hire a chaperon for the occasion. It would be too tiring for you or my mother, for I want to fly to pasture new and go some little distance; but if I speak nicely to little Mrs Bryce, she'll come like a shot, and be an addition to the party, for she is a dear little soul, and younger than many people of half her age.

You'll trust the girls to me, won't you, if I can fix it up?"

"Of course I will! It will be a pleasant break in the midst of our preparations. Where do you think of going? Have you made any plans, or is it still in the air?"

Arthur nodded his head in complacent fas.h.i.+on. "Now I'll tell you all about it! I have been making inquiries for the last few days, and have pretty well made out my programme. This picnic is to be given in Esther's honour, and for once I am going to be extravagant, and hire a saloon carriage to take us in state to the place where we would be. You live in the country, and woods and dales are no novelty to you, so we are going to be adventurous this time, and go to the sea!"

"The sea!" echoed Mrs Asplin in dismay; but her quiet voice was drowned by the chorus of exclamations in which the girls gave vent to their delight. To people who live in inland places the very idea of visiting the sea brings with it a sense of exhilaration, and the expectation of Arthur's picnic was trebled at once by the sound of that magic name.

They questioned eagerly, even Eunice putting in her query with the rest, and Arthur smilingly unfolded his scheme.

A two hours' journey would take them within five miles of an East Coast village, where some years before he had discovered an ideal spot for a picnic. This was no less than a tiny island lying out some distance from the sh.o.r.e--a charming little islet, its sh.o.r.es washed by the waves, its crest covered with gra.s.s, and shadowed by a tuft of trees. There were a few good boats to be obtained, and the fishermen would help Rob and himself to row the party across, while, once arrived on the island, what could be more delightful than to sit on the sand with the waves splas.h.i.+ng up to their very feet, to drink in the fresh sea breeze, and enjoy their luncheon under the shade of the trees? They would have to leave early, as it might grow chilly in such an exposed place, but as the last train left the station at seven o'clock, they would have no temptation to prolong their stay.

The chorus of delight grew louder than ever as he spoke, and Mrs Asplin's feeble objections were scarcely allowed a hearing. The girls laughed her to scorn when she tried to prove the superiority of places in the neighbourhood, and even Arthur paid less than his usual deference to her opinion, though he did check himself in the midst of an explanation to ask what objections she had to offer to his plan.

"I--I--Oh, none at all, only it is so far-off, and I'm nervous about you, dears! If you were late getting back--"

"But we can't be late! The train settles that question. If that is the only fear you have, you may put your mind at rest at once, dear. The train settles that business for us."

Arthur turned aside, as if the last word had been spoken on the subject; but Peggy suspected a deeper meaning to Mrs Asplin's words, and hung back on her way to the gate, to link her arm in that of her kind friend, and beg for an explanation.

"Oh, Peg, it's the sea, the cruel sea!" cried Mrs Asplin then. "I have such a terror of the water since my boy was drowned! It's over ten years ago now, but it's as fresh with me as if it had been just yesterday. My bonnie boy! You never saw him, Peg, but he was my first, and even Rex himself was never quite the same. It's foolish of me, and sinful into the bargain, for you are in G.o.d's keeping, wherever you may go, and it would be selfish to spoil your enjoyment. I will try to overcome my fear, but, Peggy dear, you know what good reason I have for dreading suspense just now--and as you love me, don't let them miss that train! If you were late, if you didn't appear at the right time, I should be terrified, and imagine all sorts of horrors. I--I don't know what would happen to me! Let nothing, _nothing_ make you late.

Remember me, Peg, in the midst of your pleasuring!"

"Mater, I will!" cried Peggy solemnly. She looked in the sweet, worn face, and her heart beat quickly. A hundred resolutions had she made in her life, and alas! had also broken, but this time it would go hardly with her if she neglected her vow to her second mother.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

The next morning Peggy and Eunice converted the library into a work- room, and cut out their blouses by the aid of paper patterns borrowed from Mrs Saville's maid. This dignitary had made several offers of help, which had been courteously but firmly refused, for the two new hands were determined to accomplish their task unaided, and thereby to secure the honour and glory to themselves.

"The first step is easy enough. Any baby could cut out by a pattern!"

Peggy declared, but an hour's work proved that it would have required a very intelligent baby indeed to have accomplished the feat. It was extraordinary how confusing a paper pattern could be! The only thing that seemed more confusing than the pattern itself was the explanation which accompanied it. Peggy tossed the separate pieces to and fro, the while she groaned over the mysterious phrases. "'Place the perforated edge on the bias of the cloth!' Which is the perforated edge? Which is the bias? 'Be careful to see that the nicked holes come exactly in the middle of--' I don't know in the least which they call the 'nicked holes!' I can't think what is the use of half these silly little pieces. If I couldn't cut out a pattern better than that, I'd retire from the business. Why can't they tell you plainly what you have to do?"

So on she stormed, prancing from one side of the table to the other, shaking the flimsy sheets in an angry hand, and scattering pins and needles broadcast on the carpet, while Eunice, like the tortoise, toiled slowly away, until bit by bit the puzzle became clear to her mind. She discovered that one piece of the pattern stood for half only of a particular seam, while others, such as collar and cuffs, represented a whole; mastered the mystery of holes and notches, and explained the same to Peggy, who was by no means too grateful for her a.s.sistance.

"Well, I'll take your word for it," she said. "I myself can make nothing out of an explanation so illogical and lacking in common-sense.

I'll cut the stupid thing out as you say, and see what comes of it.

Here goes--"

Her scissors were in the silk before Eunice had time to protest, and away she hacked, with such speed and daring that she had finished the cutting out before the other had finished her careful preparation of the first seam.

"Now then for the tacking!" she cried, and for five minutes on end there was silence, until-- "Dear me!" quoth Miss Peggy in a tone of dismay, and peaked solemn brows over her work.

"What is the matter? Has something gone wrong?"

"Um--yes! Seems to have done. The stupid old silk must have got twisted about somehow, when I was cutting out this back. The roses are all upside down!" She spoke in a studiedly careless manner, but Eunice's face was a picture of woe. To her orderly mind the accident seemed irretrievable; and yet how was it to be remedied, when extravagant Peggy had used every fragment of her material? Her face fell, her voice thrilled with horror.

"Never! You don't mean it! How dreadful! What will you do? Oh, Peggy, take mine, do, and let me buy something else for myself."

"Not an inch! It's no use, Eunice, I will not do it! We are going to have blouses alike, and that's settled. That's the worst of these flower patterns, they do cut out so badly: but it is no use grieving over what cannot be cured. Go on with your work, my dear, and don't mind me."

"But what will you--"

"Sew it up as it is! I'm not sure that it won't look better, after all.

More Frenchy!" and Peggy pinned the odd pieces together, and smiled at the effect with a complacency which left the other breathless with astonishment. She seemed oblivious of the fact that she had made a mistake, and utterly unconcerned at the prospect of wearing a garment in which the pattern reversed itself in back and front. Such a state of mind was inconceivable to the patient toiler, who rounded every corner with her scissors as carefully as if an untoward nick meant destruction, and pinned and repinned half-a-dozen times over before she could satisfy herself of the absence of crinkles. Peggy was ready to be "tried on"

before Eunice had half finished the first process, and though she went obediently at the first call, the ordeal was a painful one to all concerned. Eunice was so nervous and ignorant that she dare hardly make an alteration, for fear of making bad worse, while Peggy wriggled like an eel, turning her head now over this shoulder, now over that, and issued half-a-dozen contradictory orders at the same moment.

"The shoulder creases--put the pins in tighter! The back is too wide-- take a great handful out of the middle seam. Why does it stick out like that at the waist, just where it ought to go in? Oh, the fulness, of course, I forgot that. Leave that alone then, and go on to the neck.

Put pins in all round where the band ought to go."

"Tryings on" were numerous during the next few mornings; but, while Eunice's blouse gradually a.s.sumed a trig and reputable appearance, Peggy's developed each time a fresh set of creases and wrinkles.

Neither girl was experienced enough to understand that carelessly cut and badly tacked material can never attain to a satisfactory result, nor in truth did they trouble very much over the deficiency, for Peggy no sooner descried a fault, than her inventive genius. .h.i.t on a method of concealing it. Revers, niches, and bows were tacked on with a recklessness which made Eunice gasp with dismay, but she could not deny that the effect was "Frenchy" and even artistic, for, whatever might be Miss Peggy's shortcomings as a plain sew-er, she had a gift of graceful draping which amounted almost to genius. After the first day's experience Peggy had readily consented to her friend's plea for a week's preparation, and well it was that she had done so, for it was five good days before the bodices were sufficiently finished to allow the sleeves to be taken in hand. Oh, those sleeves! Who would ever have believed that it could be so difficult to fit such simple things, or to persuade them to adapt themselves to holes expressly provided for their accommodation? The girls spent weary hours turning, twisting, pleating in, letting out, tacking, and untacking, until at length Peggy's long- worn patience gave way altogether, and she vowed that not once again should the blouse go on her back until she donned it for the evening's exhibition.

"If they are not right this way, they will have to be wrong! I can't waste all my life fussing over a pair of sleeves. What can it matter whether they are put an inch one way or the other? They have just not to settle down and be happy where I put them, for I'm not going to move them any more!"

She frowned as she spoke and drew an impatient sigh, which did not altogether refer to the work on hand. There was a weight on her heart which refused to be conjured away even by the presence of Arthur and Eunice, and the interests and occupations which they brought with them.

Rob was angry--no, what was even worse, he was not angry, but, with a stupid masculine blindness, had taken for granted that his company was no longer desired. Nearly a fortnight had pa.s.sed since that miserable afternoon, and not once had he been inside the gates of Yew Hedge. She had met him twice, and each time had come home from the interview feeling more miserable, as Rob elaborately sustained his old friendly manner. To cry, "Hallo, Peggy!" on meeting; to discuss the doings of the neighbourhood in an easy-going fas.h.i.+on, as if no cloud hovered between them, and then to march past the very gates without coming in, refuse invitations on trumpery excuses, and attend a church at the opposite end of the parish--such behaviour as this was worse than inconsistent in Peggy's eyes, it approached perilously near hypocrisy!

"I don't care!" she told herself recklessly; but she did care all the same, and her heart gave a throb of relief when on the morning of what had come to be known in the family as "Blouse day," Arthur announced his intention of asking both the Darcy brothers to dinner.

"After your hard work you ought to have an audience to admire and applaud," he said, "and I shall tell them we want them particularly.

They were asking how your dressmaking was getting on the other day, so I am sure they will be glad to accept. You won't want an answer, I suppose, Mistress Housekeeper? They can return with me or not, as the case may be?"