CHAPTER TWO.
MELLICENT'S PROPHECY.
The schoolroom was a long, bare apartment running along one side of thehouse, and boasting three tall windows, through which the sun poured inon a shabby carpet and ink-stained tables. Everything looked well wornand, to a certain extent, dilapidated, yet there was an air of cheerfulcomfort about the whole which is not often found in rooms of the kind.Mrs Asplin revelled in beautiful colours, and would tolerate no draband saffron papers in her house; so the walls were covered with a richsoft blue; the cushions on the wicker chairs rang the changes from roseto yellow; a brilliant Japanese screen stood in one corner, and a wirestand before the open grate held a number of flowering plants. A youngfellow of seventeen or eighteen was seated at one end of the tableemployed in arranging a selection of foreign stamps. This was Maxwell,the vicar's eldest surviving son, who was to go up to Oxford at thebeginning of the year, and was at present reading under his father'ssupervision. His sister Mellicent was perched on the table itself,watching his movements, and vouchsafing scraps of advice. Hersuggestions were received with sniffs of scornful superiority, butMellicent prattled on unperturbed, being a plump, placid person, withflaxen hair, blue eyes, and somewhat obtuse sensibilities. The eldergirl was sitting reading by the window, leaning her head on her hand,and showing a long, thin face, comically like her father's, with thesame deep lines running down her cheeks. She was neither so pretty norso even-tempered as her sister, but she had twice the character, and wasa young person who made her individuality felt in the house; whileMaxwell was the beauty of the family, with his mother's crisp, darklocks, grey eyes, and brunette colouring.
These three young people were the vicar's only surviving children; butthere were two more occupants of the room--the two lads who were beingcoached to enter the University at the same time as his own son. Numberone was a fair, dandified-looking youth, who sat astride a deck-chair,with his trousers hitched up so as to display long, narrow feet, shod inscarlet silk socks and patent-leather slippers. He had fair hair,curling over his forehead; bold blue eyes, an aquiline nose, and an airof being very well satisfied with the world in general and himself inparticular. This was Oswald Elliston, the son of a country squire, whohad heard of the successes of Mr Asplin's pupils, and was storing updisappointment for himself in expecting similar exploits from his ownhandsome, but by no means over-brilliant, son. The second pupil had asmall microscope in his hand, and was poring over a collection of"specimens," with his shoulders hitched up to his ears, in a positionthe reverse of elegant. Every now and then he would bend his head towrite down a few notes on the paper beside him, showing a square-chinnedface, with heavy eyebrows and strong roughly-marked features. Hisclothes were worn, his cuffs invisible, and his hair ruffled into wildconfusion by the unconscious rubbings of his hands; and this was theHonourable Robert Darcy, third son of Lord Darcy, a member of theCabinet, and a politician of world-wide reputation.
The servants at the vicarage were fond of remarking, apropos of theHonourable Robert, that he "didn't look it"; which remark would havebeen a subject of sincere gratification to the lad himself, had it beenoverheard; for there was no surer way of annoying him than by referringto his position, or giving him the prefix to which he was entitled.
The young folks looked up inquiringly as Mr and Mrs Asplin entered theroom, for the hour after tea was set apart for recreation, and theelders were usually only too glad to remain in their own quiet littlesanctum. Oswald, the gallant, sprang to his feet and brought forward achair for Mrs Asplin, but she waved him aside, and broke impetuouslyinto words.
"Children! we have news for you. You are going to have a new companion.Father has had a letter this afternoon about another pupil--"
Mellicent yawned, and Esther looked calmly uninterested, but the threelads were full of interest. Their faces turned towards the vicar withexpressions of eager curiosity.
"A new fellow! This term! From what school, sir?"
"A ladies' boarding-school at Brighton!" Mrs Asplin spoke rapidly, soas to be beforehand with her husband, and her eyes danced withmischievous enjoyment, as she saw the dismay depicted on the threewatching faces. A ladies' school! Maxwell, Oswald, and Robert, had avision of a pampered pet in curls, and round jacket, and their backsstiffened in horrified indignation at the idea that grown men ofseventeen and eighteen should be expected to associate with a "kid" froma ladies' school!
The vicar could not restrain a smile, but he hastened to correct themistake. "It's not a `fellow' at all, this time. It's a girl! We havehad a letter from Arthur Saville's mother, asking us to look after herdaughter while she is in India. She will come to us very soon, andstay, I suppose, for three or four years, sharing your lessons, mydears, and studying with you--"
"A girl! Good gracious! Where will she sleep?" cried Mellicent, withcharacteristic matter-of-fact curiosity, while Esther chimed in withfurther inquiries.
"What is her name? How old is she? What is she like? When will shecome? Why is she leaving school?"
"Not very happy. Peggy. In the little box-room over the study. Aboutfifteen, I believe. Haven't the least idea. In a few weeks from now,"said Mrs Asplin, answering all the questions at once in her impulsivefashion, the while she walked round the table, stroked Maxwell's curls,bent an interested glance at Robert's collection, and laid a hand onEsther's back, to straighten bowed shoulders. "She is Arthur's sister,so she is sure to be nice, and both her parents will be in India, so youmust all be kind to the poor little soul, and give her a heartywelcome."
Silence! Nobody had a word to say in response to this remark; but theeyes of the young people met furtively across the table, and Mr Asplinfelt that they were only waiting until their seniors should withdrawbefore bursting into eager conversation.
"Better leave them to have it out by themselves," he whisperedsignificantly to his wife; then added aloud, "Well, we won't interruptyou any longer. Don't turn the play-hour into work, Rob! You willstudy all the better for a little relaxation. You have proved the truthof that axiom, Oswald--eh?" and he went laughing out of the room, whileOswald held the door open for his wife, smiling assent in lazy fashion.
"Another girl!" he exclaimed, as he reseated himself on his chair, andlooked with satisfaction at his well-shod feet. "This is an unexpectedblow! A sister of the redoubtable Saville! From all I have heard ofhim, I should imagine a female edition would be rather a terror in aquiet household. I never saw Saville,--what sort of a fellow was he tolook at, don't you know?"
Mellicent reflected.
"He had a nose!" she said solemnly. Then, as the others burst intohilarious laughter, "Oh, it's no use shrieking at me; I mean what Isay," she insisted. "A big nose--like Wellington's! When people arevery clever, they always have big noses. I imagine Peggy small, with alittle thin face, because she was born in India, and lived there untilshe was six years old, and a great big nose in the middle--"
"Sounds appetising," said Maxwell shortly. "I don't! I imagine Peggylike her mother, with blue eyes and brown hair. Mrs Saville is awfullypretty. I have seen her often, and if her daughter is like her--"
"I don't care in the least how she looks," said Esther severely. "It'sher character that matters. Indian children are generally spoiled, andif she has been to a boarding-school she may give herself airs. Then weshall quarrel. I am not going to be patronised by a girl of fourteen.I expect she will be Mellicent's friend, not mine."
"I wonder what sums she is in!" said Mellicent dreamily. "Rob! what doyou think about it? Are you glad or sorry? You haven't said anythingyet."
Robert raised his eyes from his microscope, and looked her up and down,very much as a big Newfoundland dog looks at the terrier which disturbsits slumber.
"It's nothing to me," he said loftily. "She may come if she likes."Then, with sudden recollection, "Does she learn the violin? Because wehave already _one_ girl in this house who is learning the violin, andlife won't be worth living if there is a
second."
He tucked his big notebook under his chin as he spoke, and began sawingacross it with a pencil, wagging his head and rolling his eyes, inimitation of Mellicent's own manner of practising, producing at the sametime such long-drawn, catlike wails from between his closed lips as madethe listeners shriek with laughter. Mellicent, however, felt bound toexpostulate.
"It's not the tune at all," she cried loudly. "Not like any of mypieces; and if I _do_ roll my eyes, I don't rumple up my hair and pullfaces at the ceiling, as _some_ people do, and I know who they are, butI am too polite to say so! I hope Peggy will be my friend, because thenthere will be two of us, and you won't dare to tease me any more. WhenArthur was here, a boy pulled my hair, and he carried him upstairs andheld his head underneath the shower-bath."
"I'll pull it again, and see if Peggy will do the same," said Robpleasantly; and poor Mellicent stared from one smiling face to another,conscious that she was being laughed at, but unable to see the point ofthe joke.
"When Peggy comes," she said, in an injured tone, "I hope she will besympathetic. I'm the youngest, and I think you ought all to do what Iwant; instead of which you make fun, and laugh among yourselves, andsend me messages. For instance, when Max wanted his stamps broughtdown--"
Maxwell passed his big hand over her hair and face, then, reversing thedirection, rubbed up the point of the little snub nose.
"Never mind, chubby, your day is over! We will make Peggy themessage-boy now. Peggy will be a nice, meek little girl, who will liketo run messages for her betters! She shall be my fag, and attend to me.I'll give her my stamps to sort."
"I rather thought of having her for fag myself; we can't admit a girl toour study unless she makes herself useful," said Oswald languidly;whereupon Rob banged the notebook on the table with clanging decision.
"Peggy belongs to me," he announced firmly. "It's no use you twofellows quarrelling. That matter is settled once for all. Peggy willbe my fag; I've barleyed her for myself, and you have nothing to say inthe matter."
But Esther tossed her head with an air of superior wisdom.
"Wait till she comes," she said sagely. "If Peggy is anything like herbrother, you may spare yourself the trouble of planning as to what shemust or must not do. It is waste of time. Peggy will be mistress overus all!"
About Peggy Saville Page 2
