Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
More About Peggy, by Mrs G. de Horne Vaizey
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This is another excellent book by Mrs de Horne Vaizey,dating from the end of the nineteenth century. While ofcourse it is dated in its references to the world aroundits actors, yet nevertheless their emotions arewell-described, and no doubt are timeless.
In some ways the world around the people in the book isrecognisable today, in a way which a book written thirty orforty years before would not have been. They haveelectricity, telephones, trains, buses, and many otherthings that we still use regularly today. Of course onemajor difference is that few people today have servants,while middle-class and upper-class families of the eighteennineties would certainly have had them.
Today we travel by aeroplane, while in those days, andindeed for much of my own life, we travelled by ship andtrain. It was normal when travelling back to England fromIndia to disembark at Marseilles, and come on to theChannel Ports by train, perhaps even spending a week or twoin Italy, en route. I have done it myself.
So it is not so very dated after all. But I do think thereis a real value in reading the book. Oddly enough, I thinkthat a boy would benefit from reading any of theauthor's books, more than a girl would, because it wouldgive him an insight into the girlish mind which he couldnot so easily otherwise obtain. And as the young ladies ofthis book are trying to sort out whom they should marry,matters do get quite girlish. N.H._________________________________________________________
MORE ABOUT PEGGY
BY MRS. GEORGE DE HORNE VAIZEY
CHAPTER ONE.
It was mid-January, and at home in England the ground was white withsnow, but the sun shone down with brazen glare on the blue waters of theBay of Bengal, along which a P and O steamer was gliding on its homewardway. An awning was hoisted over the deck, but not a breath of windfluttered its borders, and the passengers lay back in their deck-chairstoo limp and idle to do more than flick over the pages of the bookswhich they were pretending to read. It was only twenty-four hours sincethey had left Calcutta, and they were still in that early stage ofjourneying when they looked askance at their fellows, decided thatnever, no, never had Fate placed them in the midst of such uninterestingcompanions, and determined to keep severely to themselves during therest of the voyage.
The stout lady in the white _pique_ stared stonily at the thin lady indrill, and decided that she was an "Impossible Person," blissfullyunconscious of the fact that before Aden was reached she would pour allher inmost secrets into the "Impossible Person's" ear, and weep salttears at parting from her at Marseilles. The mother of the sicklylittle girls in muslin swept them away to the other end of the deck whenshe discovered them playing with the children who inhabited the nextstate-room, and the men stared at one another stolidly across thesmoking-room. The more experienced travellers knew that ere a week hadpassed the scene would be changed, that a laughing babel of voices wouldsucceed the silence, and deck sports and other entertainments take theplace of inaction; but the younger members of the party saw no suchalleviation ahead, and resigned themselves to a month of frostysolitude.
The ladies dozed amongst their cushions, but the men strolled up anddown the deck smoking their cigars with that air of resigned dejectionwhich seems to be the monopoly of Englishmen of the upper classes. Thequick movements, animated gestures, and sparkling eyes of the Southernerwere all lacking in these strongly built, well-dressed, well-set-up men,who managed to conceal all signs of animation so successfully that noone looking at them could have believed that one was the wit of hisregiment, another celebrated throughout an Indian province for hiscourage and daring, and a third an expectant bridegroom!
About eleven o'clock a diversion was made on the upper deck by theappearance of two more travellers--an elegant-looking woman accompaniedby her husband, who came forward in search of the deck-chairs which hadbeen placed in readiness for their use. They were not a young couple byany means, yet the eyes of the passengers followed their movements withinterest, for they were not only exceedingly good to look upon, but hadan air of enjoyment in their surroundings and in each other's societywhich is unfortunately not universal among middle-aged couples. The manwas tall and slight, with the weather-beaten, dried-up skin which tellsof a long residence under burning suns, and he had a long nose, and eyeswhich appeared almost startlingly blue against the brown of his skin.They were curious eyes, with a kind of latent fierceness in their goodhumour, but just now they shone in holiday mood, and softened intotenderness as he waited on his wife.
No sooner had this interesting couple seated themselves in their chairsthan a chirrup of welcome sounded in their ears, and a beaming littlefigure in grey alpaca darted forward to greet them. Though the majorityof passengers in an ocean-going boat may be unsociably inclined at thestart, there are always one or two exceptions to the rule to be found,in the shape of ultra-friendly souls, who, willy-nilly, insist uponplaying the part of devoted friends to some unresponsive stranger, andthe old lady in question was one of these exceptions. She had begunoperations the night before by quarrelling violently over the possessionof a cabin, had then proceeded to borrow half-a-dozen necessities of thetoilet which she had forgotten, and had advanced to the length of termsof endearment before the bell sounded for dinner. It was only naturalthen that she should exhibit a breathless anxiety to know how her newfriend had fared during the night, and the invalid braced herself tobear the attack with composure.
"So glad to see you up this morning, dear!" she cried. "I was afraidyou might be ill, but I asked your daughter about you, and was sorelieved to hear good news. We met on deck before breakfast, and had anice, long talk. Such a sweet creature! So different from the fast,loud-voiced specimens one meets nowadays. Quite an old-world girl, Ideclare; sweet, and mild, and gentle... `A violet by a mossy dell,half-hidden from the eye'--as dear old What's-his-name has it! It doesme good to be with her, and feel her restful influence. You are to becongratulated on owning such a daughter!"
"Thank you!" said the mild girl's mother softly. She dropped hereyelids, and twisted the rings round and round on her slender fingers,as if for some reason she did not wish to meet the speaker's eye, whileher husband rose suddenly and walked to the end of the deck. When hecame back, five minutes later, he remarked to his wife that there was nodepending on weather signals nowadays; at which innocent remark shelaughed so heartily that the friendly old lady instantly put downhysterics as the probable explanation of her delicate appearance, andfelt a chilling of sympathy. In a few minutes she took herself off tosome other friends, and the husband and wife whispered smilinglytogether, and, after the invariable custom on shipboard, fell tocriticising their companions.
Perhaps the most striking figure which met their eyes was that of ayoung man some thirty years of age, whose walk and carriage plainlymarked him out as an officer in the army. A certain pallor showingthrough his tanned skin made it seem possible that he was returning homeon sick-leave, but he was a handsome fellow all the same with aquilinefeatures and a heavy moustache, and he scanned the scene around him withan air of languid patronage, as one who felt that the P and O Companymight feel themselves honoured to have the privilege of accommodatinghis noble self, and expected that even the ocean should show its bestaspect for his benefit. Of the passengers by whom he was surrounded thelordly stranger appeared entirely oblivious, not deigning to throw evena glance in their direction; and so strange a thing is human nature thatthe feminine portion, at least, felt their interest heightened by thisindifference, and were increasingly anxious to make his acquaintance.It did not seem likely that their desire would be granted on thisoccasion, at least, for as the morning wore on
and the heat of the sungrew ever stronger and stronger, the object of their admiration tookcounsel with himself, and decided that it would be wisdom to retirewithin the shelter of the reading-room, and pass the hour before lunchin the company of a novel which he had brought on board with hiseffects. He had carried the book upstairs earlier in the morning, andplaced it in a corner of the room where he believed it would be safefrom alien hands; but, alas! the best-laid plans "gang aft a-gley," andwhen he went in search, he met with a shock of disappointment. The bookhad been appropriated, and the thief was seated in the very corner whichhe had destined for himself, bending over the pages with everyappearance of absorption. Her face was hidden from view, and all thatcould be seen was a trim little figure in a trim white gown, a pair oftrim little feet, a sleek brown head, and a well-rounded cheek. No onecould deny that it was a pleasing figure, but the lordly stranger wastoo much ruffled in his feelings to be influenced by appearances. Hismanner was perhaps a trifle less haughty than it would have been, hadthe thief taken the shape of an elderly gentleman, but he never waveredin his intention, and only stopped for an imperceptible moment in hisprogress up the room to demand a return of the volume.
"Excuse me. Ah! _My_ book, I think! Sorry to interrupt you, but--"
The young lady laid down the book and lifted her face to his. A flickeras of mingled surprise and pleasure passed over her features as she sawwho it was that stood before her, but she showed not the slightest signof discomfiture.
"I beg a thousand pardons!" she said, and inclined her head in such abow as an empress might bestow on a blundering and ignorant supplicant.It was such a very grand air for such a small person that the bigofficer drew a breath of surprise, and gazed down with a startledinterest. The girl's features were delicately modelled; the brows mighthave been drawn with a pencil, so clear and perfect was the arch whichthey described, and the brilliant hazel eyes met his with a mockingglance. For almost the first time in his life a spasm of discomfitureseized him, a struggling suspicion that his conduct had not beenaltogether above reproach. He stood with the book in his hand,hesitating, uncertain.
"If you would care to read it, pray keep it! I shall be most happy tolend it to you."
The girl waved her hand with a gracious patronage.
"Not for the world, until you have finished! When you have no more usefor it yourself, perhaps you will be good enough to renew the offer.Meantime, there are plenty of other books. The library seems verylarge."
"I make a point of never reading the ship's books. You never--aw--knowwho has had them last!" drawled the stranger, sweeping a scathing glanceover the well-filled shelves; "and, as a rule, they are in such shockingcondition. People seem to take a malign satisfaction in tearing out themost important pages, so that, after wading through a whole volume, youare left in uncertainty as to what really happened."
"But sometimes that is a blessing in disguise, for by exercising alittle imagination you can make the story end as you like, and spareyourself the pain of disappointment. I rarely read a book withoutreflecting how much better I could have finished it myself," remarkedthe young lady, with an assurance which evoked a smile on the officer'simpassive countenance.
"You don't look much like an authoress," he said, surveying the daintylittle figure approvingly, and calling up a mental picture of thespectacled and cadaverous female invariably associated with a literarycareer in the masculine mind. "I am afraid my imagination will hardlystand such a strain; but books are the only refuge for the destitute ona voyage, especially during the first few days, when you find yourselfshut up with a herd of strangers whom you have never met before in thecourse of your life. There is only one thing to do under thecircumstances, and that is to lie low, and speak to no one until youhave found your bearings and discovered who is who. If you go abouttalking to strangers, you can never tell in what sort of a set you mayland yourself."
"You can't, indeed! It's appalling to think of!" agreed the young lady,with a dramatic gesture of dismay which brought her little ringed handstogether in decided emphasis. "For my own part I get on well enough,"she proceeded, contradicting herself with unruffled composure, "for Ican find something interesting in all of my fellow-creatures; but I feelit for my maid! The couriers and valets are so _very_ exclusive thatshe has been snubbed more than once because of our inferior station.Naturally she feels it keenly. I observe that those people are mostsensitive about their position who have the least claim to distinction;but as she does my hair better than any one else, and is an admirabledressmaker, I am, of course, anxious to keep her happy."
The big man looked down with a suspicious glance. Through his not verykeen sensibilities there had penetrated the suspicion that the smallperson in the white frock was daring to smile at him and amuse herselfat his expense; but his suspicion died at once before the glance ofinfantile sweetness which met his own. Pretty little thing! there wassomething marvellously taking in her appearance. For one moment, as shehad spoken of inferior station, he had had an uneasy fear lest he hadmade the acquaintance of some vulgar upstart, with whom he could notpossibly associate. But no! If ever the signs of race and breedingwere distinguishable in personal appearance, they were so in the case ofthe girl before him. A glance at the head in its graceful setting, thedelicate features, the dainty hands and feet, was sufficient to settlethe question in the mind of a man who prided himself on being an adeptin such matters. To his own surprise, he found himself flounderingthrough a complimentary denial of her own estimate of herself, and beingrescued from a breakdown by a gracious acknowledgment.
"Praise," murmured the young lady sweetly--"praise from Major Darcy ispraise indeed! When `Haughty Hector' deigns to approve--"
The big man jumped as if he had been shot, and turned a flushed, excitedface upon her.
"Wh-at?" he gasped. "What do you say? You know me--you know my oldhome name! Who are you, then? Who can you be?"
The girl rose to her feet and stood before him. The top of her smoothlittle head barely reached his shoulders, but she held herself with anair of dignity which gave an appearance of far greater height. For onelong minute they stared at one another in silence; then she stretchedout her hand and laid it frankly in his own.
"Why, I'm Peggy!" she cried. "Don't you remember me? I'm PeggySaville!"
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