About Peggy Saville

by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

  ROSALIND'S VISIT.

  Robert did not make his appearance next morning, and his absence seemedto give fresh ground for the expectation that Lady Darcy would driveover with him in the afternoon and pay a call at the vicarage.

  Mrs Asplin gathered what branches of russet leaves still remained inthe garden and placed them in bowls in the drawing-room, with a fewprecious chrysanthemums peeping out here and there; laid out her verybest tea-cloth and d'oyleys, and sent the girls upstairs to change theirwell-worn school dresses for something fresher and smarter.

  "And you, Peggy dear--you will put on your pretty red, of course!" shesaid, standing still, with a bundle of branches in her arms, and lookingwith a kindly glance at the pale face, which had somehow lost its sunnyexpression during the last two days.

  Peggy hesitated and pursed up her lips.

  "Why `of course,' Mrs Asplin? I never change my dress until evening.Why need I do it to-day, just because some strangers may call whom Ihave never seen before?"

  It was the first time that the girl had objected to do what she wastold, and Mrs Asplin was both surprised and hurt by the tone in whichshe spoke--a good deal puzzled too, for Peggy was by no meansindifferent to pretty frocks, and as a rule fond of inventing excuses towear her best clothes. Why, then, should she choose this afternoon ofall others to refuse so simple a request? Just for a moment she felttempted to make a sharp reply, and then tenderness for the girl whosemother was so far-away took the place of the passing irritation, and shedetermined to try a gentler method.

  "There is not the slightest necessity, dear," she said quietly. "Iasked only because the red dress suits you so well, and it would havebeen a pleasure to me to see you looking your best. But you are verynice and neat as you are. You need not change unless you like."

  She turned to leave the room as she finished speaking; but before shehad reached the door Peggy was by her side, holding out her hands totake possession of twigs and branches.

  "Let me take them to the kitchen, please! Let me help you!" she saidquickly, and just for a moment a little hand rested on her arm with aspasmodic pressure. That was all; but it was enough. There was no needof a formal apology. Mrs Asplin understood all the unspoken love andpenitence which was expressed in that simple action, and beamed with herbrightest smile.

  "Thank you, my lassie, please do! I'm glad to avoid going near thekitchen again, for when cook once gets hold of me I can never get away.She tells me the family history of all her relatives, and indeed it'svery depressing, it is," (with a relapse into her merry Irish accent),"for they are subject to the most terrible afflictions! I've had onedose of it to-day, and I don't want another!"

  Peggy laughed, and carried off her bundle, lingered in the kitchen justlong enough to remind the cook that "apple charlotte served with cream"was a seasonable pudding at the fall of the year, and then went upstairsto put on the red dress, and relieve her feelings by making grimaces atherself in the glass as she fastened the buttons.

  At four o'clock the patter of horses' feet came from below, doors openedand shut, and there was a sound of voices in the hall. The visitors hadarrived!

  Peggy pressed her lips together, and bent doggedly over her writing.She had not progressed with her work as well as she had hoped duringRob's absence, for her thoughts had been running on other subjects, andshe had made mistake after mistake. She must try to finish one batch atleast, to show him on his return. Unless she was especially sent for,she would not go downstairs; but before ten minutes had passed,Mellicent was tapping at the door and whispering eager sentences throughthe keyhole.

  "Peggy, quick! They've come! Rosalind's here! You're to come down!Quick! Hurry up!"

  "All right, my dear, keep calm! You will have a fit if you exciteyourself like this!" said Peggy coolly.

  The summons had come, and could not be disregarded, and on the whole shewas not sorry. The meeting was bound to take place sooner or later,and, in spite of her affectation of indifference, she was reallyconsumed with curiosity to know what Rosalind was like. She had nointention of hurrying, however, but lingered over the arrangement of herpapers until Mellicent had trotted downstairs again, and the coast wasclear. Then she sauntered after her with leisurely dignity, opened thedrawing-room door, and gave a swift glance round.

  Lady Darcy sat talking to Mrs Asplin a few yards away, in such aposition that she faced the doorway. She looked up as Peggy entered,and swept her eyes curiously over the girl's figure. She looked olderthan she had done from across the church the day before, and her facehad a bored expression, but, if possible, she was even more elegant inher attire. It seemed quite extraordinary to see such a fine ladysitting on that well-worn sofa, instead of the sober figure of thevicar's wife.

  Peggy flashed a look from one to the other--from the silk dress to theserge, from the beautiful weary face to the cheery loving smile--andcame to the conclusion that, for some mysterious reason, Mrs Asplin wasa happier woman than the wife of the great Lord Darcy.

  The two ladies stopped talking and looked expectantly towards her.

  "Come in, dear! This is our new pupil, Lady Darcy, for whom you wereasking. You have heard of her--"

  "From Robert. Oh yes, frequently! I was especially anxious to seeRobert's little friend. How do you do, dear? Let me see! What is yourfunny little name? Molly--Dolly--something like that, I think--I forgetfor the moment?"

  "Mariquita Saville!" quoth Peggy grandiloquently. She was consumed withregret that she had no second name to add to the number of syllables,but she did her best with those she possessed, rolling them out in hervery best manner and with a stately condescension which made Lady Darcysmile for the first time since she entered the room.

  "Oh-h!" The lips parted to show a gleam of regular white teeth."That's it, is it? Well, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance,Mariquita. I hope we shall see a great deal of you while we are here.You must go and make friends with Rosalind--my daughter. She is longingto know you."

  "Yes, go and make friends with Rosalind, Peggy dear! She was asking foryou," said Mrs Asplin kindly; and as the girl walked away the twoladies exchanged smiling glances.

  "Amusing! Such grand little manners! Evidently a character."

  "Oh, quite! Peggy is nothing if not original. She is a dear, goodgirl, but quite too funny in her ways. She is really the incarnation ofmischief, and keeps me on tenter-hooks from morning until night, butfrom her manner you would think she was a model of propriety. Nothingdelights her so much as to get hold of a new word or a high-soundingphrase."

  "But what a relief to have someone out of the ordinary run! There areso many bores in the world, it is quite refreshing to meet with a littleoriginality. Dear Mrs Asplin, you really must tell me how you manageto look so happy and cheerful in this dead-alive place? I am desolateat the idea of staying here all winter. What in the world do you findto do?"

  Mrs Asplin laughed.

  "Indeed, that's not the trouble at all; the question is how to find timeto get through the day's duties! It's a rush from morning till night,and when evening comes I am delighted to settle down in an easy-chairwith a nice book to read. One has no chance of feeling dull in a housefull of young people."

  "Ah, you are so good and clever, you get through so much. I want to askyour help in half a dozen ways. If we are to settle down here for somemonths, there are so many arrangements to make. Now tell me, what wouldyou do in this case?" The two ladies settled down to a discussion ondomestic matters, while Peggy crossed the room to the corner whereRosalind Darcy sat in state, holding her court with Esther and Mellicentas attendant slaves. She wore the same grey dress in which she hadappeared in church the day before, but the jacket was thrown open, anddisplayed a distractingly dainty blouse, all pink chiffon, and frills,and ruffles of lace. Her gloves lay in her lap, and the celebrateddiamond ring flashed in the firelight as she held out her hand to meetPeggy's.

  "How do you do? So
glad to see you! I've heard of you often. You arethe little girl who is my bwothar's fwiend." She pronounced the letter"r" as if it had been "w," and the "er" in brother as if it had been"ah," and spoke with a languid society drawl more befitting a woman ofthirty than a schoolgirl of fifteen.

  Peggy stood motionless and looked her over, from the crown of her hat tothe tip of the little trim shoe, with an expression of icy displeasure.

  "Oh dear me, no," she said quietly, "you mistake the situation. You putit the wrong way about. Your brother is the big boy whom I have allowedto become a friend of mine!"

  Esther and Mellicent gasped with amazement, while Rosalind gave a trillof laughter, and threw up her pretty white hands.

  "She's wexed!" she cried. "She's wexed, because I called her little!I'm wewwy sowwy, but I weally can't help it, don't you know. It's thetwuth! You are a whole head smaller than I am." She threw back herchin, and looked over Peggy's head with a smile of triumph. "There,look at that, and I'm not a year older. I call you wewwy small indeedfor your age."

  "I'm thankful to hear it! I admire small women," said Peggy promptly,seating herself on a corner of the window-seat, and staring criticallyat the tall figure of the visitor. She would have been delighted if shecould have persuaded herself that her height was awkward and ungainly,but such an effort was beyond imagination. Rosalind was startlingly andwonderfully pretty; she had never seen anyone in real life who was inthe least like her. Her eyes were a deep, dark blue, with curling darklashes, her face was a delicate oval, and the pink and white colouring,and flowing golden locks, gave her the appearance of a princess in afairy tale rather than an ordinary flesh-and-blood maiden. Peggy lookedfrom her to Mellicent, who was considered quite a beauty among hercompanions, and, oh dear me! how plain, and fat, and prosaic sheappeared when viewed side by side with this radiant vision! Estherstood the comparison better, for, though her long face had nopretensions to beauty, it was thoughtful and interesting in expression.There was no question which was most charming to look at; but if it hadcome to choice of a companion, an intelligent observer would certainlyhave decided in favour of the vicar's daughter. Esther's face wasparticularly grave at this moment, and her eyes met Peggy's with areproachful glance. What was the matter with the girl this afternoon?Why did she take up everything that Rosalind said in that hasty,cantankerous manner? Here was an annoying thing--to have just given anenthusiastic account of the brightness and amicability of a newcompanion, and then to have that companion come into the room only tomake snappish remarks, and look as cross and ill-natured as a bear! Sheturned in an apologetic fashion to Rosalind, and tried to resume theconversation at the point where it had been interrupted by Peggy'sentrance.

  "And I was saying, we have ever so many new things to show you--presents, you know, and things of that kind. The last is the nicest ofall: a really good big camera with which we can take proper photographs.Mrs Saville--Peggy's mother--gave it to us before she left. It was apresent to the schoolroom, so it belongs equally to us all, and we havesuch fun with it. We are beginning to do some good things now, but atfirst they were too funny for anything. There is one of father wherehis boots are twice as large as his head, and another of mother whereher face has run, and is about a yard long, and yet it is so like her!We laughed till we cried over it, and father has locked it away in hisdesk. He says he will keep it to look at when he is low-spirited."

  Rosalind gave a shrug to her shapely shoulders.

  "It would not cheer me up to see a cawicature of myself! I don't thinkI shall sit to you for my portrait, if that is the sort of thing you do,but you shall show me all your failures. It will amuse me. You willhave to come up and see me vewwy often this winter, for I shall be sodull. We have been abroad for the last four years, and England seems sodark and dweawy. Last winter we were at Cairo. We lived in a bighotel, and there was something going on almost every night. I was notout, of course, but I was allowed to go into the room for an hour afterdinner, and to dance with the gentlemen in mother's set. And we went upthe Nile in a steamer, and dwove about every afternoon, paying calls,and shopping in the bazaars. It never rains in Cairo, and the sun isalways shining. It seems so wonderful! Just like a place in a fairytale." She looked at Peggy as she spoke, and that young person smiledwith an air of elegant condescension.

  "It would do so to you. Naturally it would. When one has been born inthe East, and lived there the greater part of one's life, it seemsnatural enough, but the trippers from England who just come out for afew months' visit are always astonished. It used to amuse us so much tohear their remarks!"

  Rosalind stared, and flushed with displeasure. She was accustomed tohave her remarks treated with respect, and the tone of superiority was anew and unpleasing experience.

  "You were born in the East?"

  "Certainly I was!"

  "Where, may I ask?"

  "In India--in Calcutta, where my father's regiment was stationed."

  "You lived there till you were quite big? You can remember all aboutit?"

  "All I want to remember. There was a great deal that I choose toforget. I don't care for India. England is more congenial to myfeelings."

  "And can you speak the language? Did you learn Hindostanee while youwere there?"

  "Naturally. Of course I did."

  A gasp of amazement came from the two girls in the window, for aknowledge of Hindostanee had never been included in the list of Peggy'saccomplishments, and she was not accustomed to hide her light under abushel. They gazed at her with widened eyes, and Rosalind scentedscepticism in the air, and cried quickly--

  "Say something, then. If you can speak, say something now, and let ushear you."

  "Pardon me!" said Peggy, simpering. "As a matter of fact, I was senthome because I was learning to speak too well. The language of thenatives is not considered suitable for English children of tender age.I must ask you to be so kind as to excuse me. I should be sorry toshock your sensibilities."

  Rosalind drew her brows together and stared steadily in the speaker'sface. Like many beautiful people, she was not over-gifted with a senseof humour, and therefore Peggy's grandiose manner and high-soundingwords failed to amuse her as they did most strangers. She felt onlyannoyed and puzzled, dimly conscious that she was being laughed at, andthat this girl with the small face and the peaked eyebrows was trying topatronise her--Rosalind Darcy--instead of following the vicar'sdaughters in adoring her from a respectful distance, as of course it washer duty to do. She had been anxious to meet the Peggy Saville of whomher brother had spoken so enthusiastically, for it was a new thing tohear Rob praise a girl, but it was evident that Peggy on her side was byno means eager to make her acquaintance. It was an extraordinarydiscovery, and most disconcerting to the feelings of one who wasaccustomed to be treated as a person of supreme importance. Rosalindcould hardly speak for mortification, and it was an immense relief whenthe door opened, and Max and Oswald hurried forward to greet her. Thenindeed she was in her element, beaming with smiles, and indulging adozen pretty little tricks of manner for the benefit of their admiringeyes. Max took possession of the chair by her side, his face lighted upwith pleasure and admiration. He was too thoroughly natural and healthya lad to be much troubled with sentiment, but ever since one wintermorning five years before, when Rosalind had first appeared in thelittle country church, she had been his ideal of all that was womanlyand beautiful. At every meeting he discovered fresh charms, and to-daywas no exception to the rule. She was taller, fairer, more elegant. In_some_ mysterious manner she seemed to have grown older than he, sothat, though he was in reality three years her senior, he was still aboy, while she was almost a young lady.

  Mrs Asplin looked across the room, and a little anxious furrow showedin her forehead. Maxwell's admiration for Rosalind was already an oldstory, and as she saw his eager face and sparkling eyes, a pang of fearcame into his mother's heart. If the Darcys were constantly coming downto the Larches, it was only natur
al to suppose that this admirationwould increase, and it would never do for Max to fall in love withRosalind! The vicar's son would be no match for Lord Darcy's daughter;it would only mean a heartache for the poor lad, a clouded horizon justwhen life should be the brightest. For a moment a prevision of troublefilled her heart, then she waved it away in her cheery, hopefulfashion--

  "Why, what a goose I am! They are only children. Time enough to worrymy head about love affairs in half a dozen years to come. The lad wouldbe a Stoic if he didn't admire her. I don't see how he could help it!"

  "Rosalind is lovelier than ever, Lady Darcy, if that is possible!" shesaid aloud, and her companion's face brightened with pleasure.

  "Oh, do you think so?" she cried eagerly. "I am so glad to hear it, forthis growing stage is so trying. I was afraid she might outgrow herstrength and lose her complexion, but so far I don't think it hassuffered. I am very careful of her diet, and my maid understands allthe new skin treatments. So much depends on a girl's complexion. Inotice your youngest daughter has a very good colour. May I ask whatyou use?"

  "Soap and water, fresh air, good plain food,--those are the onlycosmetics we use in this house," said Mrs Asplin, laughing outright atthe idea of Mellicent's healthy bloom being the result of "skintreatment." "I am afraid I have too much to do looking after thenecessities of life for my girls, Lady Darcy, to worry myself abouttheir complexions."

  "Oh yes. Well, I'm sure they both look charming; but Rosalind will gomuch into society, and of course,"--She checked herself before thesentence was finished; but Mrs Asplin was quick enough to understandthe imputation that the complexions of a vicar's daughters were but ofsmall account, but that it was a very different matter when theHonourable Rosalind Darcy was concerned. She understood, but she wasneither hurt nor annoyed by the inferences, only a little sad and very,very pitiful. She knew the story of the speaker's life, and the reasonwhy she looked forward to Rosalind's entrance into society with suchambition. Lady Darcy had been the daughter of poor but well-bornparents, and had married the widower, Lord Darcy, not because she lovedhim or had any motherly feeling for his two orphan boys, but simply andsolely for a title and establishment, and a purse full of money. Giventhese, she had fondly imagined that she was going to be perfectly happy.No more screwing and scraping to keep up appearances; no more living indulness and obscurity; she would be Lady Darcy, the beautiful young wifeof a famous man. So, with no thought in her heart but for her ownworldly advancement, Beatrice Fairfax stood before God's altar and vowedto love, honour, and obey a man for whom she had no scrap of affection,and whom she would have laughed to scorn if he had been poor andfriendless. She married him, but the life which followed was not by anymeans all that she had expected. Lord Darcy had heavy money losses,which obliged him to curtail expenses almost immediately after hiswedding; her own health broke down, and it was a knife in her heart toknow that her boy was only the third son, and that the two big, handsomelads at Eton would inherit the lion's share of their father's property.Hector, the Lifeguardsman, and Oscar, the Dragoon, were for ever runninginto debt and making fresh demands on her husband's purse. She and herchildren had to suffer for their extravagances; while Robert, her onlyson, was growing up a shy, awkward lad, who hated society, and askednothing better than to be left in the country alone with his frogs andhis beetles. Ambition after ambition had failed her, until now all herhopes were centred in Rosalind, the beautiful daughter, in whom she sawa reproduction of herself in the days of her girlhood. She had had adull and obscure youth; Rosalind should be the belle of society. Herown marriage had been a disappointment; Rosalind should make a brilliantalliance. She had failed to gain the prize for which she had worked;she would live again in Rosalind's triumphs, and in them find fullestsatisfaction.

  So Lady Darcy gloated over every detail of her daughter's beauty, andthought day and night of her hair, her complexion, her figure, strivingstill to satisfy her poor tired soul with promises of future success,and never dreaming for a moment that the prize which seemed to elude hergrasp had been gained long ago by the vicar's wife, with herold-fashioned dress and work-worn hands. But Mrs Asplin knew, andthanked God in her heart for the sweetness and peace of her dear, shabbyhome; for the husband who loved her, and the children whom they weretraining to be good servants for Him in the world Yes, and for thatother child too, who had been taken away at the very dawn of hismanhood, and who, they believed, was doing still better work in theunseen world.

  Until Lady Darcy discovered that the only true happiness rose fromsomething deeper than worldly success, there was nothing in store forher but fresh disappointments and heart-hunger; while as for Rosalind,the unfortunate child of such a mother--Mrs Asplin looked at the girlas she sat leaning back in her chair, craning her throat, and showingoff all her little airs and graces for the benefit of the two admiringschoolboys, gratified vanity and self-love showing on every line of herface.

  "It seems almost cruel to say so," she sighed to herself, "but it wouldbe the best thing that could happen to the child if she were to losesome of her beauty before she grew up. Such a face as that is aterrible temptation to vanity." But Mrs Asplin did not guess how soonthese unspoken words would come back to her memory, or what bitter causeshe would have to regret their fulfilment.