About Peggy Saville

by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

  PEGGY IS LOST.

  Arthur Saville waited in vain by the schoolroom fire, for his sister didnot join him. And when he entered the dining-room in response to thesummons of the gong, she had not yet made her appearance.

  Mrs Asplin looked at him with uplifted brows.

  "Where is Peggy?"

  "I don't know. I haven't seen her since she went upstairs. The littlewretch can't have hurried very much."

  "She hasn't been with you, then! Never mind, there is plenty of time tocome. She must be making a special toilet for your benefit."

  But when the first course was nearly over and the girl had not yetappeared, Mrs Asplin grew impatient, and despatched the servant tohasten her movements.

  "Just tell her that we have been at table for nearly ten minutes. Askif she will be long."

  Mary left the room, was absent a short time, and came back with anextraordinary statement.

  "Miss Peggy is not in her room, ma'am."

  "Not in her room! Then she must have come downstairs. Perhaps shedidn't hear the gong. Just look in the schoolroom, Mary, and in theother rooms too, and tell her to come at once."

  Another few minutes passed, and back again came Mary, looking flushedand mysterious.

  "I can't see Miss Peggy anywhere, ma'am. She has not come downstairs."

  "You have looked in the drawing-room--Mr Asplin's study?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Did you go upstairs again?"

  "No, ma'am. I had looked there before."

  "Esther dear, you go!" cried Mrs Asplin quickly. "Bring her down atonce! What in the world is the child doing? It's most extraordinary!"

  "She's not given to playing games of hide-and-seek just at dinner-time,is she?" asked Arthur, laughing. "I am never surprised at anythingPeggy does. She has some little prank on hand, depend upon it, and willturn up in good time. It's her own fault if she misses her dinner."

  "But it's so extraordinary! To-night of all nights, when you have justarrived! I wish the child would come!" replied Mrs Asplin, craning herneck forward to listen to the cries of "Peggy! Peggy!" which came fromthe upper storey.

  The door stood open, and everyone ceased talking to follow Esther'sfootsteps to and fro, to count the opening and shutting of doors--one,two, three, four, five--to look apprehensively at each other as themessenger returned--alone!

  "Mother, she is not there! I've looked everywhere--in every corner--andshe has not changed her dress, nor washed, nor anything. The room looksexactly as if she had never gone in; but she did, for we all followedher upstairs. I looked over the wardrobe, and all her dresses arethere, and the can of hot water is untouched, and the gas left full up."

  "Oh dear, what can have happened?" Mrs Asplin pushed back her chairand stood up, looking anxious and puzzled. "I cannot rest until she isfound! I must look myself! Go on with dinner, all of you; I won't belong. Where can the child be hiding herself?"

  "Don't worry, mater!" said Arthur kindly. "It's very tiresome of Peggyto disappear at such an inopportune moment, but no harm can havehappened to her, you know. It's impossible! As I said before, she hasprobably some wild prank in her head of which this is a part. I'll giveher a lecture when I catch her for spoiling dinner like this, and suchan uncommonly good dinner too!" And Arthur smiled in cheery fashion,and tried his best to keep up the failing spirits of the company bychatting away while his hostess was out of the room, as if nothing hadhappened which was the least unusual or alarming.

  When Mrs Asplin returned, however, after a lengthened absence, therewas a simultaneous rising from the table to listen to her report.

  "She is not in the house! Jane began at the top and I began at thebottom, and we searched every hole and corner. I have looked in thevery cupboards and wardrobes! I even searched the cistern-room, but sheis not to be found. I don't know what to do next. It seems impossiblethat she can have disappeared--yet where can she be?"

  "Have you looked in the cloak-room to see if any of her outdoor thingsare missing?"

  "I went in, but I never thought of looking at her clothes. Outdoor?What on earth should take the child out at this hour in the dark andrain?"

  "I can't tell you that, dear, but we must think of every possibility.Esther, you know best what Peggy had in the cloak-room--see if anythingis missing. Mellicent, run upstairs and find if any hats or jacketshave been taken from their places. If she is not in the house, she musthave gone out. It was most thoughtless and foolish to go without askingpermission, and at such an hour; but, as Arthur says, there is not muchchance of any harm befalling her. Try not to work yourself up into astate of anxiety, dear; we shall soon find your truant for you. Well,Esther, what is it?"

  "Her mackintosh has gone, father, and her red tam-o'-shanter, and hersnow-shoes. Her peg is next to mine, and there is nothing on it but hercheck golf cape."

  "She has gone out, then! What can it mean?--to-night of all nights,when she was so happy, when Arthur had just arrived, when she promisedto be downstairs in ten minutes--"

  "It is most extraordinary! It must have been something of greatimportance, one would say. Does anyone know if Peggy had any specialinterest on hand at present? Was there any gift which she wished tobuy? It does not happen to be anyone's birthday to-morrow, does it?Yours, Arthur, for instance? No? The birthday of a school-friend,then? She might suddenly have remembered such an occasion, and rushedout to post a letter--"

  "But there is no post until to-morrow morning, so she would gain no timeby doing that. The postman called at five o'clock, and the letters wereon the hall-table waiting for him as usual. I do not know of any workthat she had on hand, but the girls have complained that she has spentall her spare time in her room lately, and when I spoke to her about itshe said she was writing--"

  "Perhaps she is writing a book," suggested Mellicent thoughtfully. "Shesays she is going to be an authoress when she grows up. I think Robertknew what she was doing. They were always talking together and lookingover books, and I heard him say to her, `Bring me all you have finished,to look over.' I said something to her about printing some photographsfor Christmas cards, and she said she could do nothing until after thenineteenth."

  "The nineteenth!" echoed the vicar sharply. "That is to-day. We gatherfrom that, then, that Peggy had been busy with work, either by herselfor in conjunction with Robert, which had to be completed by to-day.Nobody has the least idea of what nature it was? No? Then I shall goto Robert's room and see if there is anything lying about which can giveme a clue."

  "I'll go with you, sir," said Arthur, who was beginning to look a littleanxious and uneasy, as the moments passed by and brought no sign of hissister; but, alas, the scattered papers on Rob's table gave no clue tothe mystery!

  When one is endeavouring to find a reason why a girl should mysteriouslydisappear from her home, it does not help very much to find a few slipsof paper on which are written such items as "Tennyson's Poems, page 26,""Selections from British Authors, 203", "Macaulay's Essays, 97,"etcetera.

  Arthur and Mr Asplin looked at one another, puzzled and disappointed,and had no alternative but to return to the dining-room and confesstheir failure.

  "Would not it be a good thing to go up to the Larches, and hear whatRobert has to say on the subject?" Arthur asked; and when he was toldthat Robert was in London he still held to his suggestion.

  "For someone else in the house may know about it," he declared. "Robmay have confided in his mother or sister. At the worst we can get hisaddress, and telegraph to him for information, if she has not returnedbefore we get back. She might even have gone to the Larches herselfto--to see Rosalind!"

  "Peggy doesn't like Rosalind. She never goes to see her if she can helpit. I'm quite sure she has not gone there," said Mellicent shrewdly."It is more likely she has gone to Fraulein's lodgings to tell her aboutArthur. She is fond of Fraulein."

  The suggestion was not very brilliant, but it was haile
d with eagernessby the listeners as the most probable explanation yet offered.

  "Then I'll tell you what we will do. I'll go off to the Larches," criedArthur, "and one of you fellows can see Fraulein, and find out if Peggyhas been there. We must try every place, likely and unlikely. It isbetter than sitting here doing nothing."

  Max frowned and hesitated. "Or--er--or you might go to Fraulein, andI'll take the Larches! It is a long walk for you after your journey,"he suggested, with a sudden access of politeness, "and there seems moreprobability that Fraulein may be able to help us. You could go thereand back in a short time."

  "Just as you like, of course. It is all the same to me," returnedArthur, in a tone which plainly intimated that it was nothing of thesort. Mrs Asplin looked from one to the other of the flushed faces,realising that even in the midst of anxiety the image of beautiful,golden-haired Rosalind had a Will-o'-the-wisp attraction for the two biglads; but her husband saw nothing of what lay behind the commonplacewords, and said calmly--

  "Very well, then, Max, be off with you as fast as you can go. Find outif Robert has said anything about the work which he has had on hand;find out his address in town, and, if possible, where a telegram wouldreach him this evening. Arthur will call at Fraulein's lodgings; and,Oswald, you might go with him so far, and walk through the village. Askat old Mrs Gilpin's shop if Miss Saville has been there, but don't talkabout it too much; we don't want to make more fuss than we can help.Keep your eyes open!"

  The three lads departed without further delay; the vicar put on his coatand hat preparatory to searching the garden and the lanes in theimmediate neighbourhood, and the womenkind of the household settled downto an hour of painful waiting.

  Mrs Asplin lay back in her chair, with her hand to her head, nowsilent, now breaking out into impetuous lamentations. The fear lest anyaccident had happened to Peggy paralysed her with dread. Her thoughtswent out to far-away India; she imagined the arrival of the ominouscablegram; pictured it carried into the house by a native servant; sawthe light die out of two happy faces at the reading of the fatal words."Oh, Peggy, Peggy!" she groaned. "Oh, the poor father--the poor mother!What will I do? What will I do? Oh, Peggy, dearie, come back I comeback!"

  Esther busied herself looking after a dozen little domesticarrangements, to which no one else seemed capable of attendance, andMellicent laid her head on her mother's lap, and never ceased crying,except for one brief interval, when she darted upstairs to peep insidethe old oak chest, prompted thereto by a sudden reminiscence of thebride of the "Mistletoe Bough." There was no Peggy inside the chest,however; only a few blankets, and a very strong smell of camphor; soMellicent crept back to her footstool, and cried with redoubled energy.In the kitchen the fat old cook sat with a hand planted on either knee,and thrilled the other servants with an account of how "a cousin of meown brother-in-law, him that married our Annie, had a child as wenta-missing, as fine a girl as you could wish to see from June to January.Beautiful kerly 'air, for all the world like Miss Mellicent's, and suchnice ways with her! Everybody loved that child, gentle and simple.`Beller,' 'er name was, after her mother. She went out unbeknownst,just as it might be Miss Peggy, and they searched and bettersearched,"--cook's hands waved up and down, and the heads of thelisteners wagged in sympathy--"and never a trace could they find. 'Erfather--he's a stone-mason by trade, and getting good money--he knockedoff work, and his friends they knocked off too, and they searched thecountry far and wide. Day and night I tell you they searched, a week onend, and poor Isabeller nearly off her head with grief. I've heard mysister say as she never tasted bite nor sup the whole time, and waswasted to a shadow. Eh, poor soul, it's hard to rare up a child, andhave it go out smiling and bonnie, and never see nothink of it again butits bones--for she had fallen into a lime pit, had Beller, and it wasnothing but her skeleton as they brought 'ome. There was building goingon around there, and she was playing near the pit--childlike--just as itmight be Miss Peggy..." Soon and on. The horrors accumulated withevery moment. The housemaid had heard tell of a beautiful little girl,the heiress to a big estate, who had been carried off by strollinggipsies, and never been seen again by her sorrowing relatives; while thewaitress hinted darkly that the time might come when it would be acomfort to know force had been employed, for sharper than a serpent'stooth was an ungrateful child, and she always _had_ said that there wassomething uncanny about that little Miss Saville!

  The clock was striking nine o'clock when the first of the messengerscame back to report his failure; he was closely followed by a second;and last of all came Max, bringing word that nothing had been seen orheard of Peggy at the Larches; that neither Lord Darcy nor Rosalind hadthe faintest idea of the nature of the work which had just beencompleted; and, further, that on this evening Robert was escorting hismother to some entertainment, so that even if sent off at once atelegram could not reach him until a late hour. Mrs Asplin turned herwhite face from one speaker to the other, and, when the last word wasspoken, broke into a paroxysm of helpless weeping.