Chapter Five.

Chapter Five.The next day the Savilles lost no time in consulting the agent who had been commissioned to advertise for houses on their behalf, and he in his turn presented them with a list of a dozen places which were for sale, eight of which were obviously unsuitable, and none in the very least like Peggy’s ideal abode. This was a bitter disappointment to the expectant trio, and the disappointment was not softened by the offhand and independent manner in which they were treated, for the agent hinted at inordinate expectations, smiled openly at Peggy’s inquiry about a moat, and floated off to attend to another inquirer, as if any other subject were worth considering when the question of Colonel Saville’s future home was on thetapis!Mrs Saville left the office with a crestfallen air, but her husband and daughter stalked forth with their most military stride, and exchanged glances of kindling irritation on the doorstep.“Insubordinate wretch!” cried the colonel, the ends of his moustache looking fiercer than ever, and his eyes gleaming with anger, for after ruling as despot over his regiment for so many years, the lack of deference shown by a mere civilian was a distinct trial to the flesh. “There’s a good deal to be said for our friends the natives after all, Peg! If one of them had dared to treat me like that—”“Just so!” assented Peggy. “I’m with you, father. Idolike people to tremble at my nod, and in this land of freedom no one seems in the least afraid of us. It’s disgraceful. We had better take the train, and look at this Uplands place. It seems the most likely of any on the list, so I suppose we ought to see it.”To the Uplands, then, the trio betook themselves, to find disappointment number two, for the name had evidently been bestowed in a spirit of satire on a house situated in a valley, and shut in by a network of trees. The rooms smelt like so many vaults, and presented a cheerful pattern of mould upon the walls, while even Peggy’s ardour could not face the task of reducing a wilderness into a garden. A drive of three miles brought the explorers to yet another desirable residence of so uncompromisingly bleak and hideous an aspect that they drove away from the gates without examining the interior, and returned to town fatigued and discouraged.“But we could not expect to find what we wanted the very first day,” Peggy reminded herself cheerily. “Besides, Mellicent is coming! That is quite enough happiness for one day. In two more hours she will be here. I’ll go downstairs at five o’clock, and wait for her in the hall.”When five o’clock arrived, however, a brother officer came to call upon Colonel Saville, and Peggy was delayed several minutes longer than she intended, so that when she repaired downstairs it was a little past the hour when Mellicent was due. It was quite likely that the train had been behind time, or that difficulties in getting luggage put on a cab might have delayed her arrival, and Peggy devoutly hoped that this had been the case, so that she might still be in time to give a friendly welcome. The hall was, as usual, crowded with visitors. An American contingent chatted merrily together in one corner; a French marquise stared around through a gold-rimmed lorgnette; and the usual array of family parties lolled on ottomans and sofas, scrutinising the passers-by, and exchanging whispered criticisms, which were neither so complimentary nor so subdued as might have been desired. A stout lady and two slim daughters, looking more like fashion-plates than Peggy could have believed it possible for any human creatures to do, stood discussing a knotty point together in the centre of the floor, their voluminous skirts shutting out the view beyond.Peggy made adétourto the side, caught sight of a broad, blue serge back, looking broader than ever from contrast with sylph-like forms, a coil of yellow hair beneath a sailor hat, and the side of a crimson cheek. Mellicent! Of course it was Mellicent! There she stood, the poor dear thing, a statue of misery in the midst of the fashionable crowd, a roll of shawls clutched in one hand, her dress thick with dust, and her hair blown into disorder. The critics on the benches sniggered and whispered to one another, and the French marquise examined her through the lorgnette with unconcealed amaze; but at the sight of the familiar figure Peggy’s heart leapt within her, for she saw again the ivy-covered vicarage, and the shabby, sunny schoolroom in which she had spent such happy days. A hand clutched Mellicent’s arm in ecstatic grasp, and a tremulous voice spoke in her ear.“Mellicent,darling! Is it really you?”“Oh, my goodness, Peggy, have you come at last? Nobody knew where you were, and they said they’d send, and it’s simply awful the way these wretches stare!” cried Mellicent in a rush, “They sit round in rows, and glare as if they had nothing in the world to do but quiz the poor new arrivals as they come in at the door.”“Which, my dear, is precisely the state of the case. Itisdisconcerting, especially when you arrive in the evening, after a tempestuous Channel passage, and step into a hall aglow with diamonds and eye-glasses; but turn about is fair play!” cried Peggy reassuringly. “To-morrow you and I will quiz in our turn, and just think how we shall enjoy it. Father and I have sat together for hours, criticising and inventing histories, and you have no idea how entertaining it is. You’ll simply love it.”“No, I sha’n’t. It’s unkind and cruel, and must make people simply dread coming in. If I were the manager, I wouldn’t allow it!” declared Mellicent in righteous wrath; then her eyes turned to her companion, and a tardy realisation of the position seemed to dawn upon her. “Oh, Peggy!” she cried, and again, “Oh, Peggy! I’msoglad to see you again. It has seemed such a long, long time since you went away, and there was no one like you—no one who could ever take your place.”Peggy gave an affectionate little grip to the blue serge arm, but made none of the protests which usually follow such an announcement. Modesty not being her strong point, she saw no reason to dispute Mellicent’s assertion, so smiled instead, and cried reassuringly:“Never mind, I’m back again now, and never going away no more! Dear old Chubs, you look so fresh, and pink-and-white and Englishy, that it does me good to see you. This is our sitting-room, and you must come in and say how do you do to father and mother, and have some tea. Father is going out with a friend presently, and mother will have a rest in her bedroom, so we shall have a cosy little chat by ourselves. Don’t look alarmed! They are not a bit fierce, I assure you, but a most mild and agreeable old couple.”As she spoke Peggy threw open the door of the sitting-room, and the mild and agreeable couple bestowed the kindliest of greetings upon their young visitor; but the surroundings were all so strange and formal that country-bred Mellicent was overpowered, and could only blush and stammer in school-girl fashion. Her own perfect consciousness of the fact added fuel to her embarrassment, and a full-length mirror at the opposite side of the room presented such an exasperating contrast of rustic awkwardness and dainty grace, as she and Peggy stood side by side, that her heart died down within her. Poor Mellicent! her new coat and skirt had been made by the very best dressmaker in the village, and had been considered a miracle of elegance by the admiring home circle; so that she had looked forward to making quite a triumphant entrance, and now here she was, looking her very worst, and conscious of a dozen shortcomings as she looked at her friend’s graceful figure. Peggy’s features still retained their miniature-like faultlessness of outline, her pretty hair was coiled about her head in fantastic fashion, she bore herself with even more than the old assurance, and rustled about the room in a gown of Parisian manufacture. A little chill of strangeness and depression settled down on Mellicent’s spirits. For the last month she had lived in constant expectation of this visit, had built a fairy edifice of dreams concerning it, and already the foundations were beginning to totter. The great hotel, with its crowd of critical inmates, was terrifying to the country-bred girl, the graciousness of her host and hostess appeared formal, when compared with the warm-hearted cordiality of her Irish mother, and even Peggy herself seemed transformed into another person. It was no longer Peggy, it was Mariquita, and Mariquita a dozen times more self-possessed and imposing than in the days of old.When Colonel and Mrs Saville left the room, Mellicent watched with awed eyes an interview which took place between Miss Peggy and a waiter whom she had summoned to bring a supply of fresh tea. There were several other matters to discuss regarding the despatch of letters and parcels, and the severe though courteous manner in which the young lady conducted the conversation, reduced the listener to a condition of speechless amazement. When the door closed behind the man, Peggy met the stare of the horrified blue eyes, and put a laughing inquiry as to the nature of her offence.“I don’t know how youdaretalk to him like that!” stammered Mellicent in return. “He is ever so much older than you, and looks so—so dignified and grand, and you order him about, and tell him to be careful, and send him running up and downstairs. I don’t know how you can do it. I’m nervous enough about finding fault with the servants at home, but with a stranger! A man! I could never summon up courage to find fault, no matter what mistakes he made. And you are so cool about it!”“My dear, I’m used to it. Consider the position I have had to fill these last three years in Indiah!” drawled Miss Peggy, and leant her head against the cushions of her chair with an exhausted air, which seemed to imply that she had come straight from the duties of Government House itself. Then suddenly she straightened herself, and attacked the teapot.“I forget if you take sugar in your tea. So few people do nowadays. And cream? It’s rather strong, I’m afraid. Be sure to tell me if it’s exactly as you like.”“Thank you!” murmured Mellicent faintly. She put the cup down on a table close at hand, and fumbled nervously with her gloves.“P–Peggy!”“Yes, dear.”“Peg-gy!”“Yes, Mellicent, what is it?”“Oh, Peggy, I feel—I feel so uncomfortable! It’s all so strange and different from what I expected. I thought I should feel at home the moment I saw you—but I don’t, not a bit. You look so grown-up and proper, and your dress is so grand, and you have done your hair like the people in the fashion-books, and I never can make out how on earth they twist it in and out... We are the same age, but you seem ever so much older, and I don’t feel that it is you at all.”“The inference is, that I neverwasproper, nor tidy, nor well-dressed in the old days! Not very complimentary to me, I must say,” began Peggy lightly, and then caught sight of a tear-drop glittering on Mellicent’s eyelashes, which sobered her very quickly. Crying? No, surely not; yet tears were there, undeniable tears, filling the blue eyes, and rolling slowly down over the pink cheeks. Peggy dropped down on her knees, and clasped her hands round the plump blue waist.“Why, Mill, what is it? What grieves you, dear? What have I done, or said, or looked—horrid thing that I am!—to vex you within ten minutes of your arrival? I never, never meant it!”“You haven’t done anything! It’s my own fault. I’m sorry to be so silly, Peggy, but all this time I have been longing and longing to see you, and thinking that it would be just the same as in the old days; but, oh, Peggy, we’ve led such different lives, and it’s not the same—oh, it’s not the same at all! I have stood still, but you have moved on, and there’s such a big, big difference. I realised it all of a sudden, and began to cry like a baby, but it’s not your fault. It’s only because I am so fond—so fond of you, Peggy, and so sorry to think—”“You dear, sweet goose! Stop crying this minute, and listen to me. There is no difference between us, and it’s going to beexactlythe same. You are Mellicent Asplin, and I’m Peggy Saville, and after my very own people I love the dear old vicaragers more than any one else in the world. I never change in my affections, and in other respects the day may yet dawn, my love, when you may wish that I had altered considerably more than I have. Will it help you to recognise me if I pull your hair, eli?—or tickle you under the chin, eh?—or give a nice little jolt to your elbow just as you lift your cup, eh?” cried Peggy, illustrating each inquiry in practical fashion, while Mellicent giggled in the midst of tears, and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.“D–o–on’t! You’ll spoil my dress. Oh, Peggy, itisgood of you, and I did so want to come, and will you really promise not to be ashamed of me, if I make stupid mistakes, and look dowdy and horrid when we go out together?”“I’ll be ashamed of you, and furious into the bargain, if you hint at such a thing again. I’m not a snob, thank goodness! Now sit up, my dear, and drop sentiment, and attend to tea. Take a cress sandwich, and don’t cry over it, I beseech you! If there is one thing more objectionable than another, it is wet salad. Tell me all about home, and every one in it. Are they looking forward to my advent, and is cook remembering my favourite puddings? I’ve got a present for every one—such a beautiful white shawl for Mrs Asplin, a tiger skin for your father’s study, some old manuscripts for Esther, as I could not think of anything she would like better, and—”“And what for—How very nice! So kind of you, Peggy, to think of us!” protested Mellicent, drawing herself up with sudden recollection, but palpitating with curiosity to hear what her own share might be. “Esther hopes to get home while you are with us, but she can’t tear herself from her precious pupils for more than a week. She has three little boys whom she is training for school, and teaching Latin and Greek and mathematics and all sorts of horrid things. You would hate it, Peggy, and so would I, but Esther loves it, and grudges every moment she is away.”Peggy laughed.“I can imagine it! The little rascals scrawling substantives on their slates—‘O frog—To a frog—By, with, or from a frog!’ and Esther’s solemn distress over a wrong termination. Isn’t it a blessing that we are made differently, and that some people are born with such wonderful patience and forbearance? I pity their poor little knuckles ifIwere in charge. But then I was always hastily inclined. Your father used to say that Esther and Rob had far more of the scholarly spirit than Rex, though he must have worked hard to get through his examinations so well. Dear old Rex, how I should love to see him again! It seems so funny to think of him as a full-fledged doctor, with a practice of his own! How does he like living in the North, and how does he get on?”Mellicent shrugged her shoulders uncertainly.“Pretty well, only it’s such a disgustingly bracing place that no one is ever ill. Rex says it is most depressing to look out of the windows and see the healthy faces! He gets so tired waiting for patients who never come. I stayed with him for a week in the winter, and whenever the bell rang we used to rush out into the hall, and peer over the banisters to see who was there, and if it was a patient Rex kept him waiting for ten minutes by his watch, to pretend that he was busy, though he was really dying to fly downstairs at once. He makes very little money, and father has to help him a good deal; but last month something happened which he hopes will help him on. The mayor of the town had a carriage accident just opposite his house, and was nearly killed. Wasn’t it luck for Rex? He was so pleased! The mayor was carried into the house, and could not be moved for days, and the papers were full of ‘Dr Asplin this, and Dr Asplin that,’ as if he was the biggest doctor they had! The mayoress seems to have taken a fancy to him too, for she begs him to go to their house as often as he likes, without waiting to be asked. It will be nice for Rex to have some friends in the town, for he daren’t go far from home. Oswald and his wife live within an hour’s rail, and often invite him there, but he is afraid to go, in case a patientshouldappear!”“Oswald’s wife! How strange it sounds! I have never heard anything about her, and am so curious to know what she is like! What account did Rex bring when he came home from the wedding?”“He said he couldn’t attempt to describe her, but that you could meet seventy-six girls exactly like her any day of the week. Rather pretty, rather fair, rather nice, rather musical! Everythingrather, and nothingvery! and thinks Oswald the most wonderful man in the world. She can’t be very clever herself, if she thinks that, can she? Oswald was always a regular dunce!”“Oh, ‘dunce’ is too strong a word, Chubby! He was not brilliant, but you must remember that he suffered from contrast with his companions. Rex was very bright, if he was not exactly clever, and it is not often that you come across such a really scholarly boy as Rob Darcy!”Peggy busied herself with the arrangement of the tea-tray without glancing in her friend’s direction, and with an air of studied carelessness. She herself knew that she had dragged Rob’s name into the discussion for no other object than to set Mellicent’s ready tongue to work on a subject about which she was longing for information, and she was alarmed lest her intention might be suspected. Mellicent, however, had retained her comfortable obtuseness, and rose to the bait with innocent alacrity.“Well, I don’t know ifyoucall it scholarly to think of nothing in the world but beetles, and grubby little plants that no one ever heard of before; butIcall it idiotic. He is worse than Esther, because, after all, schoolboys are human creatures, and sometimes you can’t help liking them, though they are so tiresome, but nobody could love a beetle! I said so once to Rob, and he snubbed me dreadfully, and talked at me for half an hour. I didn’t understand half he said—for it was all in technical beetley language, but it was meant to prove that it was wrong to say anything of the sort, or refuse to see the beauty hidden away in the meanest created thing.”“Quite true! I agree with Rob. He was perfectly right.”“But, Peggy, a beetle! And to care for nothing else! You have no idea what a regular old hermit Rob has become. He is perfectly wrapped up in beetles!” cried Mellicent, with a descriptive elegance of diction, at which her hearer shuddered visibly. “He takes no interest in anything else!”Peggy smiled, and her head took a complacent tilt.“That’s bad! That will have to be altered. He’ll take interest inme, my dear, or there’ll be trouble! I believe in a man devoting himself to his work, but Rob is too nice to be allowed to bury himself completely. I must rouse him up! A fortnight from now we will meet again, and the treatment will begin. Meanest creatures are all very well in their way, but superior ones demand their own share of attention. Rob always did as I told him, and he will not disappoint me now.”Mellicent gazed at her friend in reflective fashion. She called up before her a picture of Rob’s great stooping form, his shaggy head, and overhanging brows, and contrasted it mentally with that of the slim little, neat little, prettiest of elf-like figures before her. No, it was not in the least likely that Rob would disappoint Peggy Saville. “Those dreadful Savilles” had now, as ever, the power of enforcing obedience from their vassals.“But all the same,” she repeated obstinately, “but all the same he would have liked you better if you had been a beetle!”

The next day the Savilles lost no time in consulting the agent who had been commissioned to advertise for houses on their behalf, and he in his turn presented them with a list of a dozen places which were for sale, eight of which were obviously unsuitable, and none in the very least like Peggy’s ideal abode. This was a bitter disappointment to the expectant trio, and the disappointment was not softened by the offhand and independent manner in which they were treated, for the agent hinted at inordinate expectations, smiled openly at Peggy’s inquiry about a moat, and floated off to attend to another inquirer, as if any other subject were worth considering when the question of Colonel Saville’s future home was on thetapis!

Mrs Saville left the office with a crestfallen air, but her husband and daughter stalked forth with their most military stride, and exchanged glances of kindling irritation on the doorstep.

“Insubordinate wretch!” cried the colonel, the ends of his moustache looking fiercer than ever, and his eyes gleaming with anger, for after ruling as despot over his regiment for so many years, the lack of deference shown by a mere civilian was a distinct trial to the flesh. “There’s a good deal to be said for our friends the natives after all, Peg! If one of them had dared to treat me like that—”

“Just so!” assented Peggy. “I’m with you, father. Idolike people to tremble at my nod, and in this land of freedom no one seems in the least afraid of us. It’s disgraceful. We had better take the train, and look at this Uplands place. It seems the most likely of any on the list, so I suppose we ought to see it.”

To the Uplands, then, the trio betook themselves, to find disappointment number two, for the name had evidently been bestowed in a spirit of satire on a house situated in a valley, and shut in by a network of trees. The rooms smelt like so many vaults, and presented a cheerful pattern of mould upon the walls, while even Peggy’s ardour could not face the task of reducing a wilderness into a garden. A drive of three miles brought the explorers to yet another desirable residence of so uncompromisingly bleak and hideous an aspect that they drove away from the gates without examining the interior, and returned to town fatigued and discouraged.

“But we could not expect to find what we wanted the very first day,” Peggy reminded herself cheerily. “Besides, Mellicent is coming! That is quite enough happiness for one day. In two more hours she will be here. I’ll go downstairs at five o’clock, and wait for her in the hall.”

When five o’clock arrived, however, a brother officer came to call upon Colonel Saville, and Peggy was delayed several minutes longer than she intended, so that when she repaired downstairs it was a little past the hour when Mellicent was due. It was quite likely that the train had been behind time, or that difficulties in getting luggage put on a cab might have delayed her arrival, and Peggy devoutly hoped that this had been the case, so that she might still be in time to give a friendly welcome. The hall was, as usual, crowded with visitors. An American contingent chatted merrily together in one corner; a French marquise stared around through a gold-rimmed lorgnette; and the usual array of family parties lolled on ottomans and sofas, scrutinising the passers-by, and exchanging whispered criticisms, which were neither so complimentary nor so subdued as might have been desired. A stout lady and two slim daughters, looking more like fashion-plates than Peggy could have believed it possible for any human creatures to do, stood discussing a knotty point together in the centre of the floor, their voluminous skirts shutting out the view beyond.

Peggy made adétourto the side, caught sight of a broad, blue serge back, looking broader than ever from contrast with sylph-like forms, a coil of yellow hair beneath a sailor hat, and the side of a crimson cheek. Mellicent! Of course it was Mellicent! There she stood, the poor dear thing, a statue of misery in the midst of the fashionable crowd, a roll of shawls clutched in one hand, her dress thick with dust, and her hair blown into disorder. The critics on the benches sniggered and whispered to one another, and the French marquise examined her through the lorgnette with unconcealed amaze; but at the sight of the familiar figure Peggy’s heart leapt within her, for she saw again the ivy-covered vicarage, and the shabby, sunny schoolroom in which she had spent such happy days. A hand clutched Mellicent’s arm in ecstatic grasp, and a tremulous voice spoke in her ear.

“Mellicent,darling! Is it really you?”

“Oh, my goodness, Peggy, have you come at last? Nobody knew where you were, and they said they’d send, and it’s simply awful the way these wretches stare!” cried Mellicent in a rush, “They sit round in rows, and glare as if they had nothing in the world to do but quiz the poor new arrivals as they come in at the door.”

“Which, my dear, is precisely the state of the case. Itisdisconcerting, especially when you arrive in the evening, after a tempestuous Channel passage, and step into a hall aglow with diamonds and eye-glasses; but turn about is fair play!” cried Peggy reassuringly. “To-morrow you and I will quiz in our turn, and just think how we shall enjoy it. Father and I have sat together for hours, criticising and inventing histories, and you have no idea how entertaining it is. You’ll simply love it.”

“No, I sha’n’t. It’s unkind and cruel, and must make people simply dread coming in. If I were the manager, I wouldn’t allow it!” declared Mellicent in righteous wrath; then her eyes turned to her companion, and a tardy realisation of the position seemed to dawn upon her. “Oh, Peggy!” she cried, and again, “Oh, Peggy! I’msoglad to see you again. It has seemed such a long, long time since you went away, and there was no one like you—no one who could ever take your place.”

Peggy gave an affectionate little grip to the blue serge arm, but made none of the protests which usually follow such an announcement. Modesty not being her strong point, she saw no reason to dispute Mellicent’s assertion, so smiled instead, and cried reassuringly:

“Never mind, I’m back again now, and never going away no more! Dear old Chubs, you look so fresh, and pink-and-white and Englishy, that it does me good to see you. This is our sitting-room, and you must come in and say how do you do to father and mother, and have some tea. Father is going out with a friend presently, and mother will have a rest in her bedroom, so we shall have a cosy little chat by ourselves. Don’t look alarmed! They are not a bit fierce, I assure you, but a most mild and agreeable old couple.”

As she spoke Peggy threw open the door of the sitting-room, and the mild and agreeable couple bestowed the kindliest of greetings upon their young visitor; but the surroundings were all so strange and formal that country-bred Mellicent was overpowered, and could only blush and stammer in school-girl fashion. Her own perfect consciousness of the fact added fuel to her embarrassment, and a full-length mirror at the opposite side of the room presented such an exasperating contrast of rustic awkwardness and dainty grace, as she and Peggy stood side by side, that her heart died down within her. Poor Mellicent! her new coat and skirt had been made by the very best dressmaker in the village, and had been considered a miracle of elegance by the admiring home circle; so that she had looked forward to making quite a triumphant entrance, and now here she was, looking her very worst, and conscious of a dozen shortcomings as she looked at her friend’s graceful figure. Peggy’s features still retained their miniature-like faultlessness of outline, her pretty hair was coiled about her head in fantastic fashion, she bore herself with even more than the old assurance, and rustled about the room in a gown of Parisian manufacture. A little chill of strangeness and depression settled down on Mellicent’s spirits. For the last month she had lived in constant expectation of this visit, had built a fairy edifice of dreams concerning it, and already the foundations were beginning to totter. The great hotel, with its crowd of critical inmates, was terrifying to the country-bred girl, the graciousness of her host and hostess appeared formal, when compared with the warm-hearted cordiality of her Irish mother, and even Peggy herself seemed transformed into another person. It was no longer Peggy, it was Mariquita, and Mariquita a dozen times more self-possessed and imposing than in the days of old.

When Colonel and Mrs Saville left the room, Mellicent watched with awed eyes an interview which took place between Miss Peggy and a waiter whom she had summoned to bring a supply of fresh tea. There were several other matters to discuss regarding the despatch of letters and parcels, and the severe though courteous manner in which the young lady conducted the conversation, reduced the listener to a condition of speechless amazement. When the door closed behind the man, Peggy met the stare of the horrified blue eyes, and put a laughing inquiry as to the nature of her offence.

“I don’t know how youdaretalk to him like that!” stammered Mellicent in return. “He is ever so much older than you, and looks so—so dignified and grand, and you order him about, and tell him to be careful, and send him running up and downstairs. I don’t know how you can do it. I’m nervous enough about finding fault with the servants at home, but with a stranger! A man! I could never summon up courage to find fault, no matter what mistakes he made. And you are so cool about it!”

“My dear, I’m used to it. Consider the position I have had to fill these last three years in Indiah!” drawled Miss Peggy, and leant her head against the cushions of her chair with an exhausted air, which seemed to imply that she had come straight from the duties of Government House itself. Then suddenly she straightened herself, and attacked the teapot.

“I forget if you take sugar in your tea. So few people do nowadays. And cream? It’s rather strong, I’m afraid. Be sure to tell me if it’s exactly as you like.”

“Thank you!” murmured Mellicent faintly. She put the cup down on a table close at hand, and fumbled nervously with her gloves.

“P–Peggy!”

“Yes, dear.”

“Peg-gy!”

“Yes, Mellicent, what is it?”

“Oh, Peggy, I feel—I feel so uncomfortable! It’s all so strange and different from what I expected. I thought I should feel at home the moment I saw you—but I don’t, not a bit. You look so grown-up and proper, and your dress is so grand, and you have done your hair like the people in the fashion-books, and I never can make out how on earth they twist it in and out... We are the same age, but you seem ever so much older, and I don’t feel that it is you at all.”

“The inference is, that I neverwasproper, nor tidy, nor well-dressed in the old days! Not very complimentary to me, I must say,” began Peggy lightly, and then caught sight of a tear-drop glittering on Mellicent’s eyelashes, which sobered her very quickly. Crying? No, surely not; yet tears were there, undeniable tears, filling the blue eyes, and rolling slowly down over the pink cheeks. Peggy dropped down on her knees, and clasped her hands round the plump blue waist.

“Why, Mill, what is it? What grieves you, dear? What have I done, or said, or looked—horrid thing that I am!—to vex you within ten minutes of your arrival? I never, never meant it!”

“You haven’t done anything! It’s my own fault. I’m sorry to be so silly, Peggy, but all this time I have been longing and longing to see you, and thinking that it would be just the same as in the old days; but, oh, Peggy, we’ve led such different lives, and it’s not the same—oh, it’s not the same at all! I have stood still, but you have moved on, and there’s such a big, big difference. I realised it all of a sudden, and began to cry like a baby, but it’s not your fault. It’s only because I am so fond—so fond of you, Peggy, and so sorry to think—”

“You dear, sweet goose! Stop crying this minute, and listen to me. There is no difference between us, and it’s going to beexactlythe same. You are Mellicent Asplin, and I’m Peggy Saville, and after my very own people I love the dear old vicaragers more than any one else in the world. I never change in my affections, and in other respects the day may yet dawn, my love, when you may wish that I had altered considerably more than I have. Will it help you to recognise me if I pull your hair, eli?—or tickle you under the chin, eh?—or give a nice little jolt to your elbow just as you lift your cup, eh?” cried Peggy, illustrating each inquiry in practical fashion, while Mellicent giggled in the midst of tears, and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief.

“D–o–on’t! You’ll spoil my dress. Oh, Peggy, itisgood of you, and I did so want to come, and will you really promise not to be ashamed of me, if I make stupid mistakes, and look dowdy and horrid when we go out together?”

“I’ll be ashamed of you, and furious into the bargain, if you hint at such a thing again. I’m not a snob, thank goodness! Now sit up, my dear, and drop sentiment, and attend to tea. Take a cress sandwich, and don’t cry over it, I beseech you! If there is one thing more objectionable than another, it is wet salad. Tell me all about home, and every one in it. Are they looking forward to my advent, and is cook remembering my favourite puddings? I’ve got a present for every one—such a beautiful white shawl for Mrs Asplin, a tiger skin for your father’s study, some old manuscripts for Esther, as I could not think of anything she would like better, and—”

“And what for—How very nice! So kind of you, Peggy, to think of us!” protested Mellicent, drawing herself up with sudden recollection, but palpitating with curiosity to hear what her own share might be. “Esther hopes to get home while you are with us, but she can’t tear herself from her precious pupils for more than a week. She has three little boys whom she is training for school, and teaching Latin and Greek and mathematics and all sorts of horrid things. You would hate it, Peggy, and so would I, but Esther loves it, and grudges every moment she is away.”

Peggy laughed.

“I can imagine it! The little rascals scrawling substantives on their slates—‘O frog—To a frog—By, with, or from a frog!’ and Esther’s solemn distress over a wrong termination. Isn’t it a blessing that we are made differently, and that some people are born with such wonderful patience and forbearance? I pity their poor little knuckles ifIwere in charge. But then I was always hastily inclined. Your father used to say that Esther and Rob had far more of the scholarly spirit than Rex, though he must have worked hard to get through his examinations so well. Dear old Rex, how I should love to see him again! It seems so funny to think of him as a full-fledged doctor, with a practice of his own! How does he like living in the North, and how does he get on?”

Mellicent shrugged her shoulders uncertainly.

“Pretty well, only it’s such a disgustingly bracing place that no one is ever ill. Rex says it is most depressing to look out of the windows and see the healthy faces! He gets so tired waiting for patients who never come. I stayed with him for a week in the winter, and whenever the bell rang we used to rush out into the hall, and peer over the banisters to see who was there, and if it was a patient Rex kept him waiting for ten minutes by his watch, to pretend that he was busy, though he was really dying to fly downstairs at once. He makes very little money, and father has to help him a good deal; but last month something happened which he hopes will help him on. The mayor of the town had a carriage accident just opposite his house, and was nearly killed. Wasn’t it luck for Rex? He was so pleased! The mayor was carried into the house, and could not be moved for days, and the papers were full of ‘Dr Asplin this, and Dr Asplin that,’ as if he was the biggest doctor they had! The mayoress seems to have taken a fancy to him too, for she begs him to go to their house as often as he likes, without waiting to be asked. It will be nice for Rex to have some friends in the town, for he daren’t go far from home. Oswald and his wife live within an hour’s rail, and often invite him there, but he is afraid to go, in case a patientshouldappear!”

“Oswald’s wife! How strange it sounds! I have never heard anything about her, and am so curious to know what she is like! What account did Rex bring when he came home from the wedding?”

“He said he couldn’t attempt to describe her, but that you could meet seventy-six girls exactly like her any day of the week. Rather pretty, rather fair, rather nice, rather musical! Everythingrather, and nothingvery! and thinks Oswald the most wonderful man in the world. She can’t be very clever herself, if she thinks that, can she? Oswald was always a regular dunce!”

“Oh, ‘dunce’ is too strong a word, Chubby! He was not brilliant, but you must remember that he suffered from contrast with his companions. Rex was very bright, if he was not exactly clever, and it is not often that you come across such a really scholarly boy as Rob Darcy!”

Peggy busied herself with the arrangement of the tea-tray without glancing in her friend’s direction, and with an air of studied carelessness. She herself knew that she had dragged Rob’s name into the discussion for no other object than to set Mellicent’s ready tongue to work on a subject about which she was longing for information, and she was alarmed lest her intention might be suspected. Mellicent, however, had retained her comfortable obtuseness, and rose to the bait with innocent alacrity.

“Well, I don’t know ifyoucall it scholarly to think of nothing in the world but beetles, and grubby little plants that no one ever heard of before; butIcall it idiotic. He is worse than Esther, because, after all, schoolboys are human creatures, and sometimes you can’t help liking them, though they are so tiresome, but nobody could love a beetle! I said so once to Rob, and he snubbed me dreadfully, and talked at me for half an hour. I didn’t understand half he said—for it was all in technical beetley language, but it was meant to prove that it was wrong to say anything of the sort, or refuse to see the beauty hidden away in the meanest created thing.”

“Quite true! I agree with Rob. He was perfectly right.”

“But, Peggy, a beetle! And to care for nothing else! You have no idea what a regular old hermit Rob has become. He is perfectly wrapped up in beetles!” cried Mellicent, with a descriptive elegance of diction, at which her hearer shuddered visibly. “He takes no interest in anything else!”

Peggy smiled, and her head took a complacent tilt.

“That’s bad! That will have to be altered. He’ll take interest inme, my dear, or there’ll be trouble! I believe in a man devoting himself to his work, but Rob is too nice to be allowed to bury himself completely. I must rouse him up! A fortnight from now we will meet again, and the treatment will begin. Meanest creatures are all very well in their way, but superior ones demand their own share of attention. Rob always did as I told him, and he will not disappoint me now.”

Mellicent gazed at her friend in reflective fashion. She called up before her a picture of Rob’s great stooping form, his shaggy head, and overhanging brows, and contrasted it mentally with that of the slim little, neat little, prettiest of elf-like figures before her. No, it was not in the least likely that Rob would disappoint Peggy Saville. “Those dreadful Savilles” had now, as ever, the power of enforcing obedience from their vassals.

“But all the same,” she repeated obstinately, “but all the same he would have liked you better if you had been a beetle!”

Chapter Six.The next morning was devoted to another house-hunting expedition, unsuccessful as its predecessor, while in the afternoon came a fresh excitement, in the shape of a call from Arthur’s “chief,” accompanied by his wife and daughter. Mr Rob had had a slight acquaintance with Colonel Saville years before, so that the interview lost some of the stiffness incidental to such occasions; and while the two men talked together in one corner of the room, their wives exchanged condolences on the ever-fruitful subject of domestic arrangements, and the three girls cast curious glances at one another in the intervals of conversation.“I am afraid you must find the weather chilly. Our English springs are very treacherous!” remarked Miss Rollo properly, turning her card-case round and round in her hands, and blinking rapidly with a pair of shy grey eyes, veiled by eyelashes of extraordinary length and silkiness. As the only child of distinguished parents, Miss Eunice Rollo was a personage of some importance in society; but she appeared much more afraid of the two girls than they were of her, and kept her eyes fixed so persistently on the carpet that Mellicent enjoyed an unusual opportunity of indulging a favourite pastime, and sat braced against the back of her chair, staring stolidly up and down, down and up, until she could have passed an examination on the minutest detail of the stranger’s appearance and clothing. As for Peggy, she prattled away on the engrossing subjects of sun and rain, while her thoughts went off on an excursion of their own, and busied themselves with criticisms on the new visitor.“Eunice by name, and Eunice by nature! A more Eunicey creature I never beheld. Grey eyes like Mrs Asplin... I could love her for those alone, butsosolemn! I’d like to wake you up, my dear, and make you look more like a real live girl, and less like a marionette. The way that Mellicent stares is disgraceful. She must be made to stop.”Peggy cleared her throat in meaning fashion, met the wide blue eyes and frowned a warning. Any other girl in the world would have understood and obeyed; but Mellicent only gaped the more, raised questioning eyebrows, and even mouthed a dumb inquiry. Peggy screwed up her face into a vicious glare of anger, at which moment, it is needless to say, Eunice seized the opportunity to lift her eyes from the carpet. For one second amazement held her motionless, then she fell to work on the card-case with redoubled zeal, and tilted her hat over her face. Her eyes could not be seen, but her lips were twisted on one side, and her cheeks grew suddenly, mysteriously pink. Was she laughing? Was she angry? Peggy could not tell, but she felt an intense curiosity to discover, and a dawning suspicion that Eunice was perhaps not quite so “Eunicey” after all.“It is very nice to come home to the old country again, and to see all our friends. Miss Asplin and I had lessons together for four years, so that, as you may imagine, we have a great deal to talk over now that we have met again,” she explained; and Miss Rollo replied with elaborate politeness:“I can indeed. It must be delightful I hope you will bring Miss Asplin with you, if you come to us on Wednesday. We are having a reception in the evening, with music and tableaux. It will be a crush, I’m afraid, but you may find it amusing. Rosalind Darcy is coming. She has been staying in the country for a week, but she will be back by then, and would like to see you, I’m sure. I hope you will be able to come.”“Oh, I hope so!” The answer came simultaneously from two pairs of lips, and Mellicent drew in her breath with a gasp of pleasure. It was beginning already. What excitement—what joy—what delight! Only the first day of her visit, and behold! an invitation to one of the best-known houses in London, where with her own eyes she should behold those great people of the world whom she had read about, but never, never expected to see. At this rate, Mellicent reflected, she would find herself on intimate terms at Court before the fortnight was concluded; and oh! the joy of returning home and speaking in casual tones about Princes of the Blood, Dukes and Marquises, and Cabinet Ministers, for, the edification of village hearers! Her complacency vented itself in a long postscript to the letter already written to her mother, a postscript of such characteristic nature as delighted that appreciative lady, and which was read aloud with much unction to her husband, and a friend of the family who happened to be paying a call at the time, whereby, as will be seen, certain things came to pass which would not otherwise have happened.The prospect of Mrs Rollo’s reception was so dazzling as to throw all other experiences into the shade; but the two intervening days were full of excitement, for Peggy was delighted to play “country cousin” for her friend’s benefit, and the two girls drove about from one place of interest to another, from early morning until late at night. Westminster Abbey had, of course, special claims on the affections, and evoked that thrill of mingled awe and patriotism which all true-born Britons must feel on entering that glorious edifice. When the voices of the choristers rang out in the psalms for the morning, Mellicent shed tears on her Prayer-book, and felt icy-cold all the way down her spine, and Peggy’s eyes flashed fire, and the rare colour burned in her cheeks.When the service was over the two girls wandered about together gazing at the monuments, reading the inscriptions which recalled noble deeds, and exchanging ardent confidences the while.“I should like to come here every day,” said Mellicent softly, “every single day. I should like to be a verger, and spend my life in an abbey. I think I could be awfully good if I lived here always. It makes one feel so small and insignificant, that one wouldn’t dare to be selfish, and think one’s own happiness so important. I can’t believe that it was ever built by men—ordinary common working men. It seems like a mountain—a great, wonderful thing that God must have made Himself, and given to His people.”Peggy looked at her with bright, astonished eyes.“You dear thing, what a sweet idea! I feel the same about it; but perhaps, after all, it was better that menshouldhave made it. It must have donethemgood. One cannot imagine that a workman in such a task could remain ‘common.’ I have read charming stories about men who have devoted their whole lives to little pieces of carving or ironwork, to be placed in insignificant corners of old Continental cathedrals. It did not trouble them that their work would not be seen; they were so impressed with the spirit of the place that they simply could not endure to do less than their very, very best, and were willing to remain poor all their lives in order to be able to do it. That’s fine! That’s grand! None of your miserable scamping spirit there. The place made the men, as well as the men the place.”“Yes, yes, that’s just what I feel. I’d like to do something for it too, if it were only the dusting,” sighed Mellicent, passing her finger along a ledge of wood, and pensively regarding the ridge of dust on her light kid gloves. “I assure you, Peggy, the shivers were running down my back the whole time of that service like a cold-water tap. I was freezing!”“And I was tingling. Oh, to do something big enough—great enough—to be brought here when I die, and be laid among these fine old heroes! Isn’t it maddening sometimes to be a woman, and feel penned in, in a wretched little body?” Peggy stood still and faced her companion with kindling eyes. “At this moment, my dear, the spirit of Hercules is within me—I feel as if I could lift mountains, and look atthat.” She held out her hand, staring with intense disfavour at the fragile little wrist. “That’s my weapon! If I tried to lift thatbench, I should sprain my wrist. If I work my brain for several hours on end, I have a sick headache I’m a lion in a cage, dear; a little, miserable, five-foot cage, and it’s no use beating at the bars, for I’ll never get out;” and Peggy stared miserably at the statue of the “third great Canning” which stood opposite, and sighed her heart out, to think how impossible it seemed that the name of Mariquita Saville would ever be emblazoned by his side.From the Abbey the sightseers drove to the Academy, where they spent a couple of hours in making their way through the crowded rooms. Mrs Saville and her daughter were unaffectedly interested in the pictures, but Mellicent declared the study of them such a “neck-achey” process that she soon abandoned the effort, and contented herself with criticising the people instead. After living all one’s life in provincial parishes where every inhabitant recognised and saluted the vicar’s daughter, it was a little bewildering to find oneself surrounded by hundreds of absolutely strange faces; a trifle depressing too, to one-and-twenty, to realise afresh her own countrified appearance, as slim-waistedélégantesfloated past in a succession of spring toilettes, each one more fascinating than the last. Mellicent sat down on one of the centre couches and gave herself up to despair.“My sleeves aren’t right, and my neck isn’t right, and my back isn’t right! My skirt sticks out where it should be flat, and is flat where it ought to stick out. My hat looks like the ark, and my gloves are too big. I ought to be superior like Esther, and not care a bit, but Ido. I care frightfully. I feel a worm, and as it I’d like to crawl away and hide myself out of sight,”—and Mellicent’s fair face clouded over with an expression of such hopeless melancholy, that Peggy, catching sight of it, came forward instantly to discover the reason.“Tired?” she cried cheerily. “Never mind, we won’t be long now, and then we’ll drive home, and you shall be tucked up in bed, and have a comfy rest. Sight-seeingistiring... Which do you like best?”“The blue, I think, with the lace edgings. The body is so sweet, with all the tiny, lovely little tucks, and the colour would suit my hair,” said Mellicent plaintively, all unconscious of the open-eyed wonder with which she was regarded.“What has your hair to do with it, and howcoulda body be covered with tucks? You are sleepy, dear, and didn’t hear what I said. I asked what picture you liked best.”“Oh–h, picture! I thought you meant dresses. I was thinking about the dresses—”“Mellicent Asplin, I’m shocked at you! You remind me of the visitor to Paris who was asked how she liked the Louvre, and replied that the Bon Marché was cheaper for ribbons. To think that you could sit opposite some of the finest pictures of the year, and find more enjoyment in looking at frocks.”“I haven’t enjoyed it at all. I’ve disenjoyed it horribly. You wouldn’t like it yourself, if you saw seven hundred and fifty girls, and each one looked seven hundred times nicer than you did yourself. I detest them all, but I hate the blue one worst! Didn’t you see her, Peggy—pale,paleblue, with white lace and—”“Poor old Mill. Come along, dear, we’ll go back to the hotel, and not worry about them any more. You shall come straight to my room, and I’ll give you a tonic that will do you good.”“I hate tonics. They taste like rusty spoons. I’m quite well, and don’t want it.”“We’ll see about that. It’s a new brand, warranted to be especially efficacious in the case of young females. It isn’t in the least like a rusty spoon, and exercises an exhilarating effect on the spirits. You wait and see.”Peggy looked at her friend, and her eyes twinkled. It was evident that some mystery was in the air, and that the word ‘tonic’ was used in a figurative rather than a literal sense. Mellicent pondered, hit on the solution of chocolates, and being an inveterate sweet-tooth, found consolation in the prospect. Perhaps Peggy was going to present her with some of the treasures she had brought home from Cannes, in which case there would not only be the enjoyment of the bonbons themselves, but the case would remain as a permanent joy and pride. So fascinating did the idea appear that it was quite a shook to see a long narrow roll emerge from the wardrobe when the crucial hour arrived.“Here is your tonic,” said Peggy. “It has come all the way from India, and was ordered for you a whole year back. I didn’t tell you what your present was the other night, for I wanted you to have the fun of opening it yourself. I do like opening my own parcels, don’t you, and not knowing what I’m going to see!”“Oh, I do! I love it!” agreed Mellicent rapturously, taking the roll in her arms, and prodding at it with the end of her fingers. “Peggy, how sweet of you! I know I shall like it... It’s very hard, and so narrow... I can’t imagine what it can be. Ordered a year ago—that sounds as if it had to be made. Is it—er—ornamental or useful?”“Oh, useful! very, very useful!” cried Peggy, and chuckled with enjoyment at Mellicent’s gallant attempt to hide disappointment beneath a pretence of satisfaction.“Oh yes, how nice! Useful things are much more—useful, aren’t they? I believe it’s an umbrella, and yet it’s rather thick for that. I can’t imagine what it can be.”“Cut the string and look! That’s the best way out of the difficulty,” suggested Peggy; and Mellicent followed her advice, and slowly unrolled the parcel on the bed. Silver paper came first, rolls of silver paper, and a breath of that delicious aromatic perfume which seems an integral part of all Eastern produce, last of all a cardboard cylinder, with something soft and white and gauzy wrapped around it. Mellicent screamed aloud, and jumped about in the middle of the floor.“It is! It is!” she cried rhapsodically. “It’s a dress like yours—like the one that was burned in the fire, and that I loved so much. But prettier. Oh, Peggy, it’s prettier! There are more of the lovely white silk flowers, and the muslin is softer and finer. You wicked, wicked girl, how dare you say it was useful!”“Because it was true. You can let Carter make it up, and wear it over your white silk at the Rollos’ on Thursday, and ifthatisn’t useful, what is, I should like to know? I wish you could have seen your face when I said it was useful. It grew about a yard long.”“I knew it did, though I tried so hard to smile and look pleased. You see, Peg, I have nothing but useful things at home, for we can’t afford anything else, and I do so dearly love a taste of luxury now and then. I simply hate useful presents, and when we get any sent to us they invariably are of that order, for people say to themselves, ‘Poor things, they are not at all well off, better send them something that will beof use.’ And I do assure you, my dear girl, that the Christmas before last I got four dozen handkerchiefs, and five separate pairs of gloves. Gloves I don’t mind, for they arenicelyuseful; but I nearly spread out all the forty-eight handkerchiefs on the bed, and wept over them with sheer rage that they weren’t something else... Oh, you ducky, darling dress! Sha’n’t I look nice! Peggy Peggy, I do love you for thinking of it, and giving me such a pleasure. You can’t think how I shall enjoy being really well-dressed for once in my life.”“I’m so pleased you are pleased. It’s ever so much nicer to give than to receive. When my three French dresses came home, I was in a bad temper for the rest of the day, because the collars were too high and stuck into my chin, and the dressmaker had not carried out all my instructions; but I’m enjoying this as much as you are, and shall feel a reflected glory in your appearance on Thursday. I’m so glad Arthur will be there, for it will be a comfort to see one familiar face among the throng. I wish—”“What?”“Nothing. It’s lovely to be back again; but sometimes one feels a little lonely when people are all talking together, and going off into little groups. In Calcutta it was different, for we knew every one, and every one knew us. Is onealwaysdisappointed, I wonder, when a thing happens which one had longed for, for years and years? I don’t know what I want, but I wantsomething!” cried Peggy drearily, and pressed her hands to her brow, while her friend looked on with sympathetic gaze.“It’s tea!” she declared oracularly. “It is five o’clock, and you know, Peggy, you always did get melancholy if tea was later than usual. Let us go downstairs and order it at once.”Peggy slid her hand in her friend’s arm with a soft explosion of laughter.“So we will,” she said cheerily. “It’s a capital explanation. Tea! Oh, you sensible old Chubby!”

The next morning was devoted to another house-hunting expedition, unsuccessful as its predecessor, while in the afternoon came a fresh excitement, in the shape of a call from Arthur’s “chief,” accompanied by his wife and daughter. Mr Rob had had a slight acquaintance with Colonel Saville years before, so that the interview lost some of the stiffness incidental to such occasions; and while the two men talked together in one corner of the room, their wives exchanged condolences on the ever-fruitful subject of domestic arrangements, and the three girls cast curious glances at one another in the intervals of conversation.

“I am afraid you must find the weather chilly. Our English springs are very treacherous!” remarked Miss Rollo properly, turning her card-case round and round in her hands, and blinking rapidly with a pair of shy grey eyes, veiled by eyelashes of extraordinary length and silkiness. As the only child of distinguished parents, Miss Eunice Rollo was a personage of some importance in society; but she appeared much more afraid of the two girls than they were of her, and kept her eyes fixed so persistently on the carpet that Mellicent enjoyed an unusual opportunity of indulging a favourite pastime, and sat braced against the back of her chair, staring stolidly up and down, down and up, until she could have passed an examination on the minutest detail of the stranger’s appearance and clothing. As for Peggy, she prattled away on the engrossing subjects of sun and rain, while her thoughts went off on an excursion of their own, and busied themselves with criticisms on the new visitor.

“Eunice by name, and Eunice by nature! A more Eunicey creature I never beheld. Grey eyes like Mrs Asplin... I could love her for those alone, butsosolemn! I’d like to wake you up, my dear, and make you look more like a real live girl, and less like a marionette. The way that Mellicent stares is disgraceful. She must be made to stop.”

Peggy cleared her throat in meaning fashion, met the wide blue eyes and frowned a warning. Any other girl in the world would have understood and obeyed; but Mellicent only gaped the more, raised questioning eyebrows, and even mouthed a dumb inquiry. Peggy screwed up her face into a vicious glare of anger, at which moment, it is needless to say, Eunice seized the opportunity to lift her eyes from the carpet. For one second amazement held her motionless, then she fell to work on the card-case with redoubled zeal, and tilted her hat over her face. Her eyes could not be seen, but her lips were twisted on one side, and her cheeks grew suddenly, mysteriously pink. Was she laughing? Was she angry? Peggy could not tell, but she felt an intense curiosity to discover, and a dawning suspicion that Eunice was perhaps not quite so “Eunicey” after all.

“It is very nice to come home to the old country again, and to see all our friends. Miss Asplin and I had lessons together for four years, so that, as you may imagine, we have a great deal to talk over now that we have met again,” she explained; and Miss Rollo replied with elaborate politeness:

“I can indeed. It must be delightful I hope you will bring Miss Asplin with you, if you come to us on Wednesday. We are having a reception in the evening, with music and tableaux. It will be a crush, I’m afraid, but you may find it amusing. Rosalind Darcy is coming. She has been staying in the country for a week, but she will be back by then, and would like to see you, I’m sure. I hope you will be able to come.”

“Oh, I hope so!” The answer came simultaneously from two pairs of lips, and Mellicent drew in her breath with a gasp of pleasure. It was beginning already. What excitement—what joy—what delight! Only the first day of her visit, and behold! an invitation to one of the best-known houses in London, where with her own eyes she should behold those great people of the world whom she had read about, but never, never expected to see. At this rate, Mellicent reflected, she would find herself on intimate terms at Court before the fortnight was concluded; and oh! the joy of returning home and speaking in casual tones about Princes of the Blood, Dukes and Marquises, and Cabinet Ministers, for, the edification of village hearers! Her complacency vented itself in a long postscript to the letter already written to her mother, a postscript of such characteristic nature as delighted that appreciative lady, and which was read aloud with much unction to her husband, and a friend of the family who happened to be paying a call at the time, whereby, as will be seen, certain things came to pass which would not otherwise have happened.

The prospect of Mrs Rollo’s reception was so dazzling as to throw all other experiences into the shade; but the two intervening days were full of excitement, for Peggy was delighted to play “country cousin” for her friend’s benefit, and the two girls drove about from one place of interest to another, from early morning until late at night. Westminster Abbey had, of course, special claims on the affections, and evoked that thrill of mingled awe and patriotism which all true-born Britons must feel on entering that glorious edifice. When the voices of the choristers rang out in the psalms for the morning, Mellicent shed tears on her Prayer-book, and felt icy-cold all the way down her spine, and Peggy’s eyes flashed fire, and the rare colour burned in her cheeks.

When the service was over the two girls wandered about together gazing at the monuments, reading the inscriptions which recalled noble deeds, and exchanging ardent confidences the while.

“I should like to come here every day,” said Mellicent softly, “every single day. I should like to be a verger, and spend my life in an abbey. I think I could be awfully good if I lived here always. It makes one feel so small and insignificant, that one wouldn’t dare to be selfish, and think one’s own happiness so important. I can’t believe that it was ever built by men—ordinary common working men. It seems like a mountain—a great, wonderful thing that God must have made Himself, and given to His people.”

Peggy looked at her with bright, astonished eyes.

“You dear thing, what a sweet idea! I feel the same about it; but perhaps, after all, it was better that menshouldhave made it. It must have donethemgood. One cannot imagine that a workman in such a task could remain ‘common.’ I have read charming stories about men who have devoted their whole lives to little pieces of carving or ironwork, to be placed in insignificant corners of old Continental cathedrals. It did not trouble them that their work would not be seen; they were so impressed with the spirit of the place that they simply could not endure to do less than their very, very best, and were willing to remain poor all their lives in order to be able to do it. That’s fine! That’s grand! None of your miserable scamping spirit there. The place made the men, as well as the men the place.”

“Yes, yes, that’s just what I feel. I’d like to do something for it too, if it were only the dusting,” sighed Mellicent, passing her finger along a ledge of wood, and pensively regarding the ridge of dust on her light kid gloves. “I assure you, Peggy, the shivers were running down my back the whole time of that service like a cold-water tap. I was freezing!”

“And I was tingling. Oh, to do something big enough—great enough—to be brought here when I die, and be laid among these fine old heroes! Isn’t it maddening sometimes to be a woman, and feel penned in, in a wretched little body?” Peggy stood still and faced her companion with kindling eyes. “At this moment, my dear, the spirit of Hercules is within me—I feel as if I could lift mountains, and look atthat.” She held out her hand, staring with intense disfavour at the fragile little wrist. “That’s my weapon! If I tried to lift thatbench, I should sprain my wrist. If I work my brain for several hours on end, I have a sick headache I’m a lion in a cage, dear; a little, miserable, five-foot cage, and it’s no use beating at the bars, for I’ll never get out;” and Peggy stared miserably at the statue of the “third great Canning” which stood opposite, and sighed her heart out, to think how impossible it seemed that the name of Mariquita Saville would ever be emblazoned by his side.

From the Abbey the sightseers drove to the Academy, where they spent a couple of hours in making their way through the crowded rooms. Mrs Saville and her daughter were unaffectedly interested in the pictures, but Mellicent declared the study of them such a “neck-achey” process that she soon abandoned the effort, and contented herself with criticising the people instead. After living all one’s life in provincial parishes where every inhabitant recognised and saluted the vicar’s daughter, it was a little bewildering to find oneself surrounded by hundreds of absolutely strange faces; a trifle depressing too, to one-and-twenty, to realise afresh her own countrified appearance, as slim-waistedélégantesfloated past in a succession of spring toilettes, each one more fascinating than the last. Mellicent sat down on one of the centre couches and gave herself up to despair.

“My sleeves aren’t right, and my neck isn’t right, and my back isn’t right! My skirt sticks out where it should be flat, and is flat where it ought to stick out. My hat looks like the ark, and my gloves are too big. I ought to be superior like Esther, and not care a bit, but Ido. I care frightfully. I feel a worm, and as it I’d like to crawl away and hide myself out of sight,”—and Mellicent’s fair face clouded over with an expression of such hopeless melancholy, that Peggy, catching sight of it, came forward instantly to discover the reason.

“Tired?” she cried cheerily. “Never mind, we won’t be long now, and then we’ll drive home, and you shall be tucked up in bed, and have a comfy rest. Sight-seeingistiring... Which do you like best?”

“The blue, I think, with the lace edgings. The body is so sweet, with all the tiny, lovely little tucks, and the colour would suit my hair,” said Mellicent plaintively, all unconscious of the open-eyed wonder with which she was regarded.

“What has your hair to do with it, and howcoulda body be covered with tucks? You are sleepy, dear, and didn’t hear what I said. I asked what picture you liked best.”

“Oh–h, picture! I thought you meant dresses. I was thinking about the dresses—”

“Mellicent Asplin, I’m shocked at you! You remind me of the visitor to Paris who was asked how she liked the Louvre, and replied that the Bon Marché was cheaper for ribbons. To think that you could sit opposite some of the finest pictures of the year, and find more enjoyment in looking at frocks.”

“I haven’t enjoyed it at all. I’ve disenjoyed it horribly. You wouldn’t like it yourself, if you saw seven hundred and fifty girls, and each one looked seven hundred times nicer than you did yourself. I detest them all, but I hate the blue one worst! Didn’t you see her, Peggy—pale,paleblue, with white lace and—”

“Poor old Mill. Come along, dear, we’ll go back to the hotel, and not worry about them any more. You shall come straight to my room, and I’ll give you a tonic that will do you good.”

“I hate tonics. They taste like rusty spoons. I’m quite well, and don’t want it.”

“We’ll see about that. It’s a new brand, warranted to be especially efficacious in the case of young females. It isn’t in the least like a rusty spoon, and exercises an exhilarating effect on the spirits. You wait and see.”

Peggy looked at her friend, and her eyes twinkled. It was evident that some mystery was in the air, and that the word ‘tonic’ was used in a figurative rather than a literal sense. Mellicent pondered, hit on the solution of chocolates, and being an inveterate sweet-tooth, found consolation in the prospect. Perhaps Peggy was going to present her with some of the treasures she had brought home from Cannes, in which case there would not only be the enjoyment of the bonbons themselves, but the case would remain as a permanent joy and pride. So fascinating did the idea appear that it was quite a shook to see a long narrow roll emerge from the wardrobe when the crucial hour arrived.

“Here is your tonic,” said Peggy. “It has come all the way from India, and was ordered for you a whole year back. I didn’t tell you what your present was the other night, for I wanted you to have the fun of opening it yourself. I do like opening my own parcels, don’t you, and not knowing what I’m going to see!”

“Oh, I do! I love it!” agreed Mellicent rapturously, taking the roll in her arms, and prodding at it with the end of her fingers. “Peggy, how sweet of you! I know I shall like it... It’s very hard, and so narrow... I can’t imagine what it can be. Ordered a year ago—that sounds as if it had to be made. Is it—er—ornamental or useful?”

“Oh, useful! very, very useful!” cried Peggy, and chuckled with enjoyment at Mellicent’s gallant attempt to hide disappointment beneath a pretence of satisfaction.

“Oh yes, how nice! Useful things are much more—useful, aren’t they? I believe it’s an umbrella, and yet it’s rather thick for that. I can’t imagine what it can be.”

“Cut the string and look! That’s the best way out of the difficulty,” suggested Peggy; and Mellicent followed her advice, and slowly unrolled the parcel on the bed. Silver paper came first, rolls of silver paper, and a breath of that delicious aromatic perfume which seems an integral part of all Eastern produce, last of all a cardboard cylinder, with something soft and white and gauzy wrapped around it. Mellicent screamed aloud, and jumped about in the middle of the floor.

“It is! It is!” she cried rhapsodically. “It’s a dress like yours—like the one that was burned in the fire, and that I loved so much. But prettier. Oh, Peggy, it’s prettier! There are more of the lovely white silk flowers, and the muslin is softer and finer. You wicked, wicked girl, how dare you say it was useful!”

“Because it was true. You can let Carter make it up, and wear it over your white silk at the Rollos’ on Thursday, and ifthatisn’t useful, what is, I should like to know? I wish you could have seen your face when I said it was useful. It grew about a yard long.”

“I knew it did, though I tried so hard to smile and look pleased. You see, Peg, I have nothing but useful things at home, for we can’t afford anything else, and I do so dearly love a taste of luxury now and then. I simply hate useful presents, and when we get any sent to us they invariably are of that order, for people say to themselves, ‘Poor things, they are not at all well off, better send them something that will beof use.’ And I do assure you, my dear girl, that the Christmas before last I got four dozen handkerchiefs, and five separate pairs of gloves. Gloves I don’t mind, for they arenicelyuseful; but I nearly spread out all the forty-eight handkerchiefs on the bed, and wept over them with sheer rage that they weren’t something else... Oh, you ducky, darling dress! Sha’n’t I look nice! Peggy Peggy, I do love you for thinking of it, and giving me such a pleasure. You can’t think how I shall enjoy being really well-dressed for once in my life.”

“I’m so pleased you are pleased. It’s ever so much nicer to give than to receive. When my three French dresses came home, I was in a bad temper for the rest of the day, because the collars were too high and stuck into my chin, and the dressmaker had not carried out all my instructions; but I’m enjoying this as much as you are, and shall feel a reflected glory in your appearance on Thursday. I’m so glad Arthur will be there, for it will be a comfort to see one familiar face among the throng. I wish—”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s lovely to be back again; but sometimes one feels a little lonely when people are all talking together, and going off into little groups. In Calcutta it was different, for we knew every one, and every one knew us. Is onealwaysdisappointed, I wonder, when a thing happens which one had longed for, for years and years? I don’t know what I want, but I wantsomething!” cried Peggy drearily, and pressed her hands to her brow, while her friend looked on with sympathetic gaze.

“It’s tea!” she declared oracularly. “It is five o’clock, and you know, Peggy, you always did get melancholy if tea was later than usual. Let us go downstairs and order it at once.”

Peggy slid her hand in her friend’s arm with a soft explosion of laughter.

“So we will,” she said cheerily. “It’s a capital explanation. Tea! Oh, you sensible old Chubby!”

Chapter Seven.Two evenings later Peggy edged her way out of the crowd at Mrs Rollo’s reception, and sat down in a corner with a gasp of relief. Eunice had been correct in prophesying a crush, for the suite of entertaining-rooms seemed a solid block of people, and the babel of voices almost drowned the music, which was being discoursed at intervals by a violinist with a shock head, a Signor with an Italian name and an English face, and a lady with an elaborate coiffure, who, in turn, warbled by herself, and joined in the rendering of impassioned Italian duets. The accompanist flourished up and down the piano, and the singers held their music at arm’s length, half-acting the words as they alternately frowned and smiled, and having gone their separate ways throughout three whole pages, joined together in a conclusive burst of triumph. The babel of talk went on with even greater energy when the last note had died away, and Peggy pursed up her lips in doubtful compliment.“That’sover, thank goodness! I don’t know what it was all about, but she said, ‘Si,’ ‘Si,’ a great many times over, and they seemed happy at the end, so that’s satisfactory. It must be very exhausting to smile so hard, and sing so loudly at the same time, so I hope other people appreciated their efforts more than I did.” Peggy sighed, and stifled a yawn. She was feeling just a trifle tired and depressed in spirits, for the day had been a busy one, and the process of dressing for the evening had been delayed by one of those careless tricks for which she was famous. Some trifling alteration having to be made to the belt of her sash, she had taken it in hand herself, and put it—where? That was the question. Nowhere in any of the three bedrooms could that belt be found, and while the brougham waited at the door, and an impatient male tramped up and down, four distracted females rushed to and fro, opening drawers, ransacking wardrobes, and burrowing beneath beds. Mrs Saville grew nervous and hysterical; her husband tugged at his moustache, and vowed his intention of sending away the brougham and spending the evening at home if this sort of “foolishness” went on much longer; and Mellicent was on the point of tears, when at last the missing treasure was discovered, squashed flat beneath a cushion, in company with a magazine, a handkerchief, an odd glove, and several stray needles.Colonel Saville looked very fierce during the drive which followed. His light eyes sent out little sparks of fire, and the waxed ends of his moustache bristled with anger, while Peggy sat opposite him in a little heap in the corner of the carriage, with her eyebrows peaked into the old eave-like shape, and the corners of her lips drooping pensively downward. The meek little, “Yes, father!” “No, father!” which replied to his strictures, would have melted a heart of stone, and Mellicent was relieved to see the colonel’s frown gradually giving place to the usual good-natured twinkle.“But you must be more careful, child,” he said, “or you and I will quarrel I can’t stand disorderly ways. You ought to have a place for everything.”“I have, father, but it’s generally in theotherplace!” sighed Peggy plaintively, whereat her father laughed, despite himself, and peace was restored. He was very tender to his little daughter during the hour which followed, as he invariably was after anything had occurred to cause a cloud between them; but though Peggy found no familiar faces in the throng, her parents were fortunate enough to discover several old-time friends, so it came to pass that she now found herself alone for the moment, and thankfully seized the opportunity of a rest.Ten minutes earlier one of the younger men to whom she had been introduced had asked to be allowed to pilot her to the refreshment-room, but she had insisted on sending Mellicent in her stead, and now had the pleasure of beholding that young lady standing in a distant corner, enjoying an animated conversation, and looking so fresh and bonnie among the anaemic town-bred girls, that more than one admiring glance was cast in her direction. Peggy’s little face softened into a very sweet expression of tenderness as she watched her friend, and hugged the thought that she had had some part in giving her the pleasure which she was now enjoying. In the pretty white dress, with her hair arranged by Carter’s skilful hands, Mellicent had no cause to be dissatisfied, even in the midst of this fashionable throng, and the natural girlish pleasure in looking her best added zest to the evening’s enjoyment. Peggy reflected once more that it was more blessed to give than to receive, and sitting perched on the ottoman with her little satin shoes braced against the floor which they barely touched, enjoyed a reflected pleasure in Mellicent’s conversation, blissfully unconscious of the fact that every expression which flittered over her friend’s face was faithfully reflected on her own. The worst of being born a mimic is that on occasions one acts a part without being in the least conscious of so doing, and so while Miss Peggy fondly imagined herself to be wearing an expression of dignified repose, in reality her features were never still for the fraction of a second. Mellicent smiled—she smiled also; Mellicent shook her head—she did the same, until all the little sprays of the white aigrette shook and quivered again; Mellicent appeared to question her companion—Peggy’s eyebrows peaked themselves in an inquiring arch; Mellicent cast down her eyes and modestly studied the carpet—prunes and prisms were reflected on Peggy’s face in an attack of the most virulent description. So it went on for five minutes on end, the little play being hidden from the surrounding gaze by a bank of palms, through the boughs of which the unconscious actress studied her part; but at the end of five minutes something happened which completely altered the current of Peggy’s thoughts. Mellicent’s partner called attention to something at the opposite end of the room, and the girl turning to look at it, her understudy naturally followed her example, and straight-way forgot Mellicent and her doings for the rest of the evening.Some one was leaning up against the doorway, studying her in his turn, and at sight of him Peggy’s heart gave a wild dance of agitation. The crowds of gaily dressed visitors whizzed round and round like pieces of glass in the old-fashioned kaleidoscope through which she used to gaze in the vicarage drawing-room; the branches of the palms swayed about in extraordinary fashion, and the face staring into her own grew dim and indistinct. But itwasthe same face. Oh yes! No one else could possibly possess those deep-set eyes, those rugged features, that heavy lock of hair across the brow. In spite of all reasons to the contrary, it was Rob himself, and the next moment his well-known voice sounded in her ear.“Mariquita! Little Peggy! Is this really you?”“Oh, Rob!” cried Peggy faintly, and could find no other word. He had taken the seat beside her, and each gazed into the other’s face with eager eyes, noting the changes which the years had brought to the familiar features. Rob’s skin was burnt brown by the burning sun of the lands through which he had travelled, his forehead showed deeply graven lines, and his cheeks had lost their boyish curve, but the atmosphere of strength and health and honest manliness remained, and exercised the old magnetic influence over his companion. It was like a breath of mountain air coming into the heated room, to see Rob’s face, and hear his hearty voice. Peggy drew a deep sigh of contentment, and smiled a happy greeting.“It is just as you said it would be, Rob, our meeting like this! How long had you been standing there? Did you recognise me at once? Why are you here at all? I thought you were in the country, and that you hated going out, and would never accept an invitation if you could help it!”“Circumstances alter cases! I was at the vicarage the other day when Mellicent’s letter arrived, saying you were to be here to-night, and a sudden temptation seized me to have a look at you, and see what manner of young lady the years had made of Peggy-Pickle. I came up this afternoon, astonished Rosalind by offering to accompany her, and wandered about the room staring curiously at every girl I met. I saw several in pink dresses that might possibly have been you, but if they had, I should have marched straight home without troubling for an introduction. Then I skirmished round to this door, and saw a little head bobbing about in a way that seemed familiar, and—”“And please,” inquired Peggy meekly, “how do you like me, now you have found me? Am I at all what you expected?”She lifted her face to his in the old mischievous fashion, and Rob studied it with a thoughtful gaze. If she hoped to receive a compliment in reply to her question, she was disappointed. It was not Rob’s way to pay compliments, and there was, if anything, a tinge of sadness in the tone in which he said:“You have changed! It’s inevitable, I suppose, but I have always thought of you as I saw you last, and don’t seem to recognise the new edition. You have grown-up, but you’ve grown-up very small! There seems less of you than ever. Was the climate too much for you out there? I should have liked to have seen you looking stronger, Peg!”“Oh, I’m a wiry little person!” said Peggy lightly. “You needn’t be anxious about me;” but she coughed as she spoke, and lay back against the cushions, for really it was rather nice to have Rob anxious about her, and to see the troubled tenderness in his eyes! She fluttered her fan to and fro in a feeble, exhausted fashion, while Rob continued to stare and to frown.“You look too much like the rest of ’em. That’s what I complain of!” he said discontentedly, eyeing the details of her dress, and pointing with a long brown finger to the bracelets on her wrist. “All these fixings-up! Have you grown into a fashionable young lady, by any chance, Mariquita? Are you going to join the social treadmill, and spend your time in a rush after gaiety and enjoyment? or are you the same little girl I used to know, who had an ideal of her own, and wanted to do something grand and noble with her life? Which of the two is it? I can’t decide!”“Oh, Rob!” cried Peggy piteously, and clapped her hands together. “Oh, Rob, it’s both! I do want to be good more than anything else in the world. That wish is always there, at the very bottom of my heart, and at any moment, if I were called upon to choose, I would give up anything—anything! to do what was right. But I want to enjoy myself too, and to have some fun, and go about to everything that is going on, and wear pretty clothes, and be—be admired, and praised, and flattered! There! I couldn’t say so to any one else, but I always did confide in you, Rob; and you won’t be shocked. I seem to have two separate sides, and the worst side is often the strongest. Do you think it is very wrong of me, Rob? I’m so young, you see, so young, and so fond of amusement!”“Poor little Peg!” said Rob tenderly. “Poor little Peg! You were always an honest little soul, and owned up about your failings. Well, there it is, and you must fight it out for yourself. No one can help you in a case like this, and you’ll come out all right in the end, so long as you keep a true heart. I suppose it’s only natural that you should want your fling. Most girls do, and find a mysterious pleasure in gadding about, and dressing themselves up like dolls.” He scanned her once again with amused, half-angry admiration. “You are mighty smart, Miss Mariquita—a very fine bird! It must have taken a long time to put on all those feathers. Are those what you call your feet? Have you been going in for the binding system in India, may I ask?”“What is the matter with my feet?” queried Peggy, in a tone of injury, as she stretched out two satin slippers, which seemed suddenly to become of Liliputian dimensions when contrasted with Rob’s huge square-toed shoes. “They are very useful little feet, and can carry me about just as well as your great ironclads can carry you. You used to say yourself that I walked uncommonly well for a girl.”“I did, and I’m glad to find you have not outgrown the accomplishment. Do you remember the red Tam o’ Shanter, Peggy? I found it on its peg when I went to the vicarage after you had left, and walked off with it in my pocket. There was a hue and cry when its loss was discovered, for it had been kept as a sort of fetish, but I refused to restore it. I’ll give it back to you, though, if you will promise to wear it in the country when I can see you!”“I will, with pleasure, every single day when it’s not too hot. Dear old Tam! It will remind me of our old times together, when we were so happy, and thought ourselves so miserable, because lessons were hard, or our plans went wrong, or we couldn’t agree. But you and I never quarrelled, Rob, we were always friends, and—”“Partners!” said Rob softly; and Peggy stared fixedly across the room, and once again the floor described that curious upward tilt, and a kaleidoscope whirl of colour flew past.

Two evenings later Peggy edged her way out of the crowd at Mrs Rollo’s reception, and sat down in a corner with a gasp of relief. Eunice had been correct in prophesying a crush, for the suite of entertaining-rooms seemed a solid block of people, and the babel of voices almost drowned the music, which was being discoursed at intervals by a violinist with a shock head, a Signor with an Italian name and an English face, and a lady with an elaborate coiffure, who, in turn, warbled by herself, and joined in the rendering of impassioned Italian duets. The accompanist flourished up and down the piano, and the singers held their music at arm’s length, half-acting the words as they alternately frowned and smiled, and having gone their separate ways throughout three whole pages, joined together in a conclusive burst of triumph. The babel of talk went on with even greater energy when the last note had died away, and Peggy pursed up her lips in doubtful compliment.

“That’sover, thank goodness! I don’t know what it was all about, but she said, ‘Si,’ ‘Si,’ a great many times over, and they seemed happy at the end, so that’s satisfactory. It must be very exhausting to smile so hard, and sing so loudly at the same time, so I hope other people appreciated their efforts more than I did.” Peggy sighed, and stifled a yawn. She was feeling just a trifle tired and depressed in spirits, for the day had been a busy one, and the process of dressing for the evening had been delayed by one of those careless tricks for which she was famous. Some trifling alteration having to be made to the belt of her sash, she had taken it in hand herself, and put it—where? That was the question. Nowhere in any of the three bedrooms could that belt be found, and while the brougham waited at the door, and an impatient male tramped up and down, four distracted females rushed to and fro, opening drawers, ransacking wardrobes, and burrowing beneath beds. Mrs Saville grew nervous and hysterical; her husband tugged at his moustache, and vowed his intention of sending away the brougham and spending the evening at home if this sort of “foolishness” went on much longer; and Mellicent was on the point of tears, when at last the missing treasure was discovered, squashed flat beneath a cushion, in company with a magazine, a handkerchief, an odd glove, and several stray needles.

Colonel Saville looked very fierce during the drive which followed. His light eyes sent out little sparks of fire, and the waxed ends of his moustache bristled with anger, while Peggy sat opposite him in a little heap in the corner of the carriage, with her eyebrows peaked into the old eave-like shape, and the corners of her lips drooping pensively downward. The meek little, “Yes, father!” “No, father!” which replied to his strictures, would have melted a heart of stone, and Mellicent was relieved to see the colonel’s frown gradually giving place to the usual good-natured twinkle.

“But you must be more careful, child,” he said, “or you and I will quarrel I can’t stand disorderly ways. You ought to have a place for everything.”

“I have, father, but it’s generally in theotherplace!” sighed Peggy plaintively, whereat her father laughed, despite himself, and peace was restored. He was very tender to his little daughter during the hour which followed, as he invariably was after anything had occurred to cause a cloud between them; but though Peggy found no familiar faces in the throng, her parents were fortunate enough to discover several old-time friends, so it came to pass that she now found herself alone for the moment, and thankfully seized the opportunity of a rest.

Ten minutes earlier one of the younger men to whom she had been introduced had asked to be allowed to pilot her to the refreshment-room, but she had insisted on sending Mellicent in her stead, and now had the pleasure of beholding that young lady standing in a distant corner, enjoying an animated conversation, and looking so fresh and bonnie among the anaemic town-bred girls, that more than one admiring glance was cast in her direction. Peggy’s little face softened into a very sweet expression of tenderness as she watched her friend, and hugged the thought that she had had some part in giving her the pleasure which she was now enjoying. In the pretty white dress, with her hair arranged by Carter’s skilful hands, Mellicent had no cause to be dissatisfied, even in the midst of this fashionable throng, and the natural girlish pleasure in looking her best added zest to the evening’s enjoyment. Peggy reflected once more that it was more blessed to give than to receive, and sitting perched on the ottoman with her little satin shoes braced against the floor which they barely touched, enjoyed a reflected pleasure in Mellicent’s conversation, blissfully unconscious of the fact that every expression which flittered over her friend’s face was faithfully reflected on her own. The worst of being born a mimic is that on occasions one acts a part without being in the least conscious of so doing, and so while Miss Peggy fondly imagined herself to be wearing an expression of dignified repose, in reality her features were never still for the fraction of a second. Mellicent smiled—she smiled also; Mellicent shook her head—she did the same, until all the little sprays of the white aigrette shook and quivered again; Mellicent appeared to question her companion—Peggy’s eyebrows peaked themselves in an inquiring arch; Mellicent cast down her eyes and modestly studied the carpet—prunes and prisms were reflected on Peggy’s face in an attack of the most virulent description. So it went on for five minutes on end, the little play being hidden from the surrounding gaze by a bank of palms, through the boughs of which the unconscious actress studied her part; but at the end of five minutes something happened which completely altered the current of Peggy’s thoughts. Mellicent’s partner called attention to something at the opposite end of the room, and the girl turning to look at it, her understudy naturally followed her example, and straight-way forgot Mellicent and her doings for the rest of the evening.

Some one was leaning up against the doorway, studying her in his turn, and at sight of him Peggy’s heart gave a wild dance of agitation. The crowds of gaily dressed visitors whizzed round and round like pieces of glass in the old-fashioned kaleidoscope through which she used to gaze in the vicarage drawing-room; the branches of the palms swayed about in extraordinary fashion, and the face staring into her own grew dim and indistinct. But itwasthe same face. Oh yes! No one else could possibly possess those deep-set eyes, those rugged features, that heavy lock of hair across the brow. In spite of all reasons to the contrary, it was Rob himself, and the next moment his well-known voice sounded in her ear.

“Mariquita! Little Peggy! Is this really you?”

“Oh, Rob!” cried Peggy faintly, and could find no other word. He had taken the seat beside her, and each gazed into the other’s face with eager eyes, noting the changes which the years had brought to the familiar features. Rob’s skin was burnt brown by the burning sun of the lands through which he had travelled, his forehead showed deeply graven lines, and his cheeks had lost their boyish curve, but the atmosphere of strength and health and honest manliness remained, and exercised the old magnetic influence over his companion. It was like a breath of mountain air coming into the heated room, to see Rob’s face, and hear his hearty voice. Peggy drew a deep sigh of contentment, and smiled a happy greeting.

“It is just as you said it would be, Rob, our meeting like this! How long had you been standing there? Did you recognise me at once? Why are you here at all? I thought you were in the country, and that you hated going out, and would never accept an invitation if you could help it!”

“Circumstances alter cases! I was at the vicarage the other day when Mellicent’s letter arrived, saying you were to be here to-night, and a sudden temptation seized me to have a look at you, and see what manner of young lady the years had made of Peggy-Pickle. I came up this afternoon, astonished Rosalind by offering to accompany her, and wandered about the room staring curiously at every girl I met. I saw several in pink dresses that might possibly have been you, but if they had, I should have marched straight home without troubling for an introduction. Then I skirmished round to this door, and saw a little head bobbing about in a way that seemed familiar, and—”

“And please,” inquired Peggy meekly, “how do you like me, now you have found me? Am I at all what you expected?”

She lifted her face to his in the old mischievous fashion, and Rob studied it with a thoughtful gaze. If she hoped to receive a compliment in reply to her question, she was disappointed. It was not Rob’s way to pay compliments, and there was, if anything, a tinge of sadness in the tone in which he said:

“You have changed! It’s inevitable, I suppose, but I have always thought of you as I saw you last, and don’t seem to recognise the new edition. You have grown-up, but you’ve grown-up very small! There seems less of you than ever. Was the climate too much for you out there? I should have liked to have seen you looking stronger, Peg!”

“Oh, I’m a wiry little person!” said Peggy lightly. “You needn’t be anxious about me;” but she coughed as she spoke, and lay back against the cushions, for really it was rather nice to have Rob anxious about her, and to see the troubled tenderness in his eyes! She fluttered her fan to and fro in a feeble, exhausted fashion, while Rob continued to stare and to frown.

“You look too much like the rest of ’em. That’s what I complain of!” he said discontentedly, eyeing the details of her dress, and pointing with a long brown finger to the bracelets on her wrist. “All these fixings-up! Have you grown into a fashionable young lady, by any chance, Mariquita? Are you going to join the social treadmill, and spend your time in a rush after gaiety and enjoyment? or are you the same little girl I used to know, who had an ideal of her own, and wanted to do something grand and noble with her life? Which of the two is it? I can’t decide!”

“Oh, Rob!” cried Peggy piteously, and clapped her hands together. “Oh, Rob, it’s both! I do want to be good more than anything else in the world. That wish is always there, at the very bottom of my heart, and at any moment, if I were called upon to choose, I would give up anything—anything! to do what was right. But I want to enjoy myself too, and to have some fun, and go about to everything that is going on, and wear pretty clothes, and be—be admired, and praised, and flattered! There! I couldn’t say so to any one else, but I always did confide in you, Rob; and you won’t be shocked. I seem to have two separate sides, and the worst side is often the strongest. Do you think it is very wrong of me, Rob? I’m so young, you see, so young, and so fond of amusement!”

“Poor little Peg!” said Rob tenderly. “Poor little Peg! You were always an honest little soul, and owned up about your failings. Well, there it is, and you must fight it out for yourself. No one can help you in a case like this, and you’ll come out all right in the end, so long as you keep a true heart. I suppose it’s only natural that you should want your fling. Most girls do, and find a mysterious pleasure in gadding about, and dressing themselves up like dolls.” He scanned her once again with amused, half-angry admiration. “You are mighty smart, Miss Mariquita—a very fine bird! It must have taken a long time to put on all those feathers. Are those what you call your feet? Have you been going in for the binding system in India, may I ask?”

“What is the matter with my feet?” queried Peggy, in a tone of injury, as she stretched out two satin slippers, which seemed suddenly to become of Liliputian dimensions when contrasted with Rob’s huge square-toed shoes. “They are very useful little feet, and can carry me about just as well as your great ironclads can carry you. You used to say yourself that I walked uncommonly well for a girl.”

“I did, and I’m glad to find you have not outgrown the accomplishment. Do you remember the red Tam o’ Shanter, Peggy? I found it on its peg when I went to the vicarage after you had left, and walked off with it in my pocket. There was a hue and cry when its loss was discovered, for it had been kept as a sort of fetish, but I refused to restore it. I’ll give it back to you, though, if you will promise to wear it in the country when I can see you!”

“I will, with pleasure, every single day when it’s not too hot. Dear old Tam! It will remind me of our old times together, when we were so happy, and thought ourselves so miserable, because lessons were hard, or our plans went wrong, or we couldn’t agree. But you and I never quarrelled, Rob, we were always friends, and—”

“Partners!” said Rob softly; and Peggy stared fixedly across the room, and once again the floor described that curious upward tilt, and a kaleidoscope whirl of colour flew past.

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