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  CHAPTER XIX

  PEGGY AT WAR

  'By this good light, a lass of matchless mettle!'

  The Christmas holidays being over, and Archie in the rudest of health,Miss Forster had no more excuse for keeping that young gentleman athome, and after much packing and preparation, he departed to school,amid the fond regrets of his aunt and the lamentations of his friends atthe Abbey, to whom he promised to write as often as time and theregulations of his house would allow him.

  After he had left, things seemed to jog on for some time in the sameway. Peggy was studying hard this term, for she was a clever girl, andliked to take a high place in her class, so most of the evenings wereoccupied with home-lessons, and it was only on Saturday that she had anyleisure for the many projects which Archie had begged her to continue inhis absence. Time steals on very quickly when we are fully occupied, andwinter seemed to slide into spring, and daffodils to replace thesnowdrops in the garden before they had realized the welcome change, andEaster drew near once more, with all its delights of violets, younglambs, and early blossom.

  It seemed a long while now to the children since Aunt Helen had goneaway, and Lilian had become so accustomed to the housekeeping that itwas not nearly so much of a care. She had taken up her neglected Frenchbooks again, and struggled manfully through 'Paul et Virginie' with theaid of a dictionary; for Peggy was getting on so fast now that Lilianfelt she would soon be left behind unless she made some effort to keepup what she had learnt. The evening readings, too, were continued, forMr. Howell had suggested 'The Vicar of Wakefield' as being less solidfor a tired mind than 'The French Revolution,' lending her his owncharmingly illustrated copy; and Father had forgotten the farm and allhis other worries in a hearty laugh over Moses and the spectacles, orMrs. Primrose's efforts at gentility, declaring that the philosophy ofthe light-hearted Vicar exactly suited his own circumstances, andchristening Lilian and Peggy 'Olivia' and 'Sophia' on the spot. Findingthat a success, Lilian followed it up by 'Pride and Prejudice,' and the'Pickwick Papers'; for she was glad to discover anything that would wipeaway the lines from Father's forehead, if only for an hour, and distracthis thoughts from those terrible deeds and account-books which were wontto litter the dining-room table at nights. Peggy, too, had begged to situp a little later to listen, and I think she learned almost as much fromthe readings as from her lessons; for our English classics are aneducation in themselves, and those who love them young rarely care toread much trash afterwards.

  As the days grew longer and lighter, the garden also claimed attention,and the children were busy digging, raking, and planting, for this yearthere were to be special classes in the flower-show for exhibitors underfifteen, and both Peggy and Bobby had secret hopes of a prize. Thenthere was Sky Cottage to be tidied and spring-cleaned, for Archie mustnot come home at Easter to find it looking neglected, and there werevarious little improvements which they wished to make in it to surprisehim on his return.

  It was well that they were all so full of resources for their ownamusement, for otherwise than school they saw almost nothing of theoutside world. The temporary attraction of Aunt Helen's engagement beingover, the neighbours had lapsed again into their customary neglect ofthe Abbey, and visitors or invitations were as rare as if they had beenliving in the wilds of Africa. It seemed rather hard that sweet, prettyLilian should be so entirely overlooked, and I think that somebody--notto say Mrs. Davenport--might have seen that she had some share in themerry-makings which went on in many of the country houses round about;but nobody remembered, and the shy girl herself was quite content toremain at home, busying herself, like Dame Durden, with her householdcares. Somehow her old school friends seemed to have drifted away fromher. They were full of their own interests, and, on the few occasionswhen she happened to meet them, had talked so much of new teachers, newpupils, and class topics of which she knew nothing, that she had felt alittle 'out of it,' and had an uneasy sensation that, if she spoke ofthe quiet little episodes of her daily round they would vote herhousekeeping experiences as decidedly 'slow.' Miss Forster, one of theirkindest friends, had been unwell and confined to her room nearly all thespringtime, and the children had felt her a loss; for besides the bondwith Archie, she loved young people, and had always a word of help orsympathy for their schemes.

  'I wonder what it feels like to be ill,' said Peggy one day, comingback from the Willows, where she had been sent to inquire, after one ofMiss Forster's worst attacks. 'We're such a healthy set, we haven't anyof us been a day in bed since we had measles five years ago. I shouldthink it would be quite fun to send for the doctor, and be fussed over.'

  'I suppose you _feel_ horrid,' replied Lilian. 'But all the same, I'vesometimes thought it must be rather nice to be an interesting invalid. Iwouldn't have minded being Margaret, for instance, in the "Daisy Chain,"to lie on a sofa, and just look beautiful, and set a good example to allyour family, and keep on telling somebody you couldn't marry him, whilehe stalked about the room with an air of profound melancholy, and saidhe couldn't take to anybody else.'

  'I've always thought I should like to be a foundling,' said Peggy. 'Itis so delightfully mysterious to be picked up from a wreck on thesea-shore, or saved from a railway accident, and nobody to know who youare, or anything about you. They always keep your beautifulbaby-clothes, and the gold locket round your neck with the portraitinside, and then, when you're just grown up, you turn out to be the onlydaughter of a duke, who has been mourning for you ever since you werelost. Orphans, too, don't have half a bad time in books, though theygenerally live with rich uncles, and have to wear the old dresses andstop at home, while their cousins go to parties. They only look sweeterthan ever in the shabby clothes, and something nice always happens whilethe others are out--like Mabel, you know, in "Sweet Seventeen." I thinkit must be most romantic to be so beautiful and so despised.'

  'Will you try living with the Davenports for a while?' laughed Lilian.'You'd have plenty of chance there of being sat upon, at any rate.'

  But Peggy declined with thanks, declaring the case did not apply at all,for neither was Mrs. Davenport a rich relation nor was she herself inthe friendless condition necessary for the full requirements of fiction,so she was afraid the round of amusements and social triumphs generallyenjoyed by the heroine would not fall to her share.

  'I wish we did go out just every now and then, though,' said Peggy, whooccasionally had ambitions after gaiety. 'I haven't been anywhere exceptto Miss Forster's or the Rectory since I was at the Middletons lastyear. The girls were all talking about parties at school, after theChristmas holidays, and I hadn't been to a single one, or the pantomimeeither, and we never get to any of the concerts at the Spa Gardens. TheHarpers have asked me to their dance next Wednesday, but Father won'tlet me go. I wish he would, just for once. It seems so hard never to doanything like other girls, doesn't it?'

  'It is so difficult, darling, to get you home. You would catch cold ifyou came out of hot rooms and drove home at night in the open trap, andit is dreadfully expensive to hire a cab from Warford. Besides, youwould want new shoes and gloves, and silk stockings, even if yourbridesmaid's dress would be smart enough. If only I had had that moneyAunt Helen sent me on my birthday, you should have gone, but I spent itevery penny on Bobby's cricket flannels, and I don't like to ask Fatherfor more. You see, we are trying to be so very careful just now. You andBobby are not learning dancing this term, and I have even given up mymusic-lessons'--with a wistful sigh, for that had been a sore wrench topoor Lilian.

  'So you have, Lily mine, and never growled at all over it! I'm a horridlittle wretch, and I wouldn't have taken Aunt Helen's present, even ifyou had had it left. I don't really care about parties and things. Wehave ever so much fun out here at the Abbey that the girls who live inWarford never dream of, and it wouldn't be fair to expect both. Easterwill soon be here, and Archie will come home, and then we shall all haveglorious times again!' And Peggy's momentary discontent vanished likesnow in sunshine at the enthralling prospect of sev
eral new projectswhich her ingenious friend intended carrying out, and of the picnics,woodland scrambles, and other delights which the holidays would bring intheir train.

  But there was yet a month of the term to run, and the little pony-trapmust make many more journeys to and from Warford before either Pixie orthe children could take a rest, and lessons and school affairs werestill matters of the first importance.

  Accustomed to a daily account of the doings of both himself and hisclass-mates, Peggy began to realize about this time that all was notwell with Bobby. Instead of being full of his usual fun on the homewardjourney, he had scarcely anything to tell her. He had been late forseveral days at the inn-yard, and had arrived looking so flurried andpeculiar that, although he had laughed it off and made some excuse, shewas certain that things were not as they should be. The pair had neverhad any secrets before, so Peggy waited at first for Bobby to tell her,but as the confidence did not seem to be forthcoming, she one day boldlytaxed him with it.

  'Well,' said Bobby, plucking at the corners of his dog-eared Latingrammar, 'if you really want to know, it's Jones minor. I didn't mean tobreathe a word, because I hate to be a sneak, and peach, and all that;but after all, telling you isn't like telling any of the fellows, isit?' anxious for his code of schoolboy honour.

  'Of course it's not. What about Jones minor?'

  'He bullies me so. He lies in wait for me every afternoon, and I have tododge ever so to get out of his way. I came round by five back streetsto-day, and climbed over a garden wall.'

  'How big a boy is he?'

  'Oh, he's a fellow of thirteen, I should think, for he's in the fourthform. If he were anywhere near my own size I'd fight him, if I had to doit every day till I licked him. I thrashed Moore last week for punchinglittle Barton's head.'

  'What does this Jones do to you?'

  'Pulls my ears, and bumps my head against the wall. He twists my armround, too, and hammers at it, and he keeps a buckle-strap in his pocketspecially for me, so he says. He's just generally a beast, that's whathe is!'

  'I don't quite know what we can do,' said Peggy. 'If only Archie were athome he'd soon thrash him into a jelly, and enjoy it. I suppose there'sno one else at school who would champion you?'

  'No, there isn't. Never mind, Pegotty, don't you worry. I'm growing allthe time, and perhaps one day I'll be big enough to go for him, andafter all, a fellow ought to be able to stand a bit of bullying withoutgoing whining home to his sister about it.'

  'Is there much of this sort of thing going on at the Grammar School?'asked Peggy.

  'A fair amount. Not among the best end of the boys, but some of thefellows are awful cads. They took Holmes major one day, and held himupside down with his head in the lavatory basin till he nearly choked,and they tied two others up as sparring-cocks to-day, and made themfight all dinner-time. They're awfully rough on us little boys, too, atgames. We have to fag till we nearly drop sometimes. That great hulkingTaylor half kills young Ford now and then. I'm thankful he doesn't lookmy way. It's only Jones minor who attends to me, and he's quite badenough.'

  'I only just wish I could catch him at it,' said Peggy reflectively; andthere for the present the matter ended.

  But a few days after this the pony-trap waited in vain, and Peggy, whohad walked leisurely three times from the inn-door to the end of thestreet, grew tired of loitering about, and sallied forth to look for thetruant. It would be useless to try the highways, she knew, soaccordingly her search must be in the by-ways, and she made a littletour of investigation round all the back streets between the inn and theGrammar School, but without success, and she was just thinking she musthave missed him, and had better return to the inn-yard, when a fortunatechance prompted her to turn up a retired avenue which lay between thetwo main roads. It was a quiet spot, with long gardens leading toold-fashioned houses on the one side, and the tall palings of acricket-field on the other--just the spot where nobody would be likelyto come along and make a disturbance, and so evidently Jones minorseemed to think, for he held Bobby pinned against the wall with onehand, while with the other he amused himself by tweaking his ears,pulling his hair, and any other tortures which his ingenious mind couldsuggest at the moment.

  At the sight of this edifying spectacle Peggy flew on to the scene likeDiana on the war-path.

  "IF YOU BREAK YOUR WORD, I'LL LET ALL WARFORD KNOW THATYOU'VE BEEN KNOCKED DOWN AND THRASHED BY A GIRL."]

  'Here,' she cried indignantly, 'you Jones! Just stop that, will you?'

  'Mind your own business, you--whoever you are!' cried the boy rudely.'I'll do what I like!'

  Bobby tried to dodge away, but the bully caught him by the arm, and,partly to show off, commenced such an excruciating twist that the tearsstarted to his victim's eyes, though he did not utter a sound. It wastoo much for Peggy. She looked carefully round to see that no one wasnear, flung down her books with a bang on the pavement, and--simply wentfor Jones minor.

  The assault was so utterly unexpected that he rolled over like aninepin. Peggy might be small for her age, but she was strong andmuscular, and she had the spirit of a Coeur de Lion and the courage ofa Joan of Arc. Her method of boxing was certainly not scientific, butshe set to work to punish Jones minor according to her own ideas ofwarfare. With two well-directed blows she nearly closed his eyes beforehe had time even to see his assailant. She punched his head, tweaked hisears, and hammered into the soft portions of his body until he roaredfor mercy, for, like all bullies, he was a coward at heart, and had avague impression that some very superior force must suddenly havedescended upon him.

  'Have you had enough?' said Peggy at last, with her foot on her foe'schest, and her fist at his swollen nose.

  'Yes, thanky!' faltered the snivelling Jones.

  'Then swear on your honour, if you have any, that you'll never lay afinger on my brother again. If you'll promise that faithfully, we'llneither of us tell, but if you break your word, I'll let all Warfordknow that you've been knocked down and thrashed by a girl!'

  'Hooray! hooray!' cried two voices, and two tall boys in Grammar Schoolcaps came clambering over the palings from the cricket-field, whencethey had been the delighted but unseen witnesses of the encounter.

  'By Jove! you're a girl worth knowing!' said the taller boy. 'The wayyou rolled him flat was the funniest sight I've seen for many a year!Get up, Jones, you sneaking, drivelling cur!'--kicking the prostrateform of that fallen hero. 'And if ever I catch you at any of your trickswith Vaughan again I'll settle you myself, I promise you, though I don'tknow whether I could have done it any better than this, after all!'glancing with an eye of admiration at the victorious Peggy, who, withsplit gloves, scarlet cheeks, and wild-flying curls, stood panting afterthe contest.

  'Golly! if you were _my_ sister, I'd be proud of you!' he continued,while the other boy picked up her hat from the roadway, and collectedher scattered school-books. 'I like a girl with pluck, and you've gotenough for ten of 'em. I say, Vaughan, I'll try you to fag for me, ifyou like. You're a good runner, I hear, and no butter-fingers. You canbegin to-morrow.'

  'And _he_ is the Captain of the school eleven!' said Bobby afterwards,who would have felt it scarcely so great an honour to be noticed by thePrince of Wales. 'There isn't a boy in my class who isn't yearning to beFarrar's fag. They'll be just wild with envy! Peggy, you're about thebiggest trump on the face of the earth, and I'll never forget this dayif I live to be a hundred!'

  Jones minor found he also had good reason to remember the occasion, foras Farrar and Henderson felt no obligation to observe secrecy, his lifeat Warford Grammar School was for some time a burden to him. Constantreferences as to his fondness for female society, offers to see him hometo protect him on the way, tender inquiries as to the state of his eyesand the condition of his ears, filled him with confusion, while largeportraits of Jones in the clutches of an imaginary Amazon, executed withschoolboy talent and vigour, adorned the walls of the playground and thepalings of the cricket-field.

  Peggy's onslaught really
seemed to have done some good in the school,for the attention of the older and better boys being called to thesubject of bullying, a stand was made, and public opinion ran highagainst it, so that for a time, at any rate, the little boys had peace,and Bobby was able to return daily by the ordinary high-road, instead ofseeking the shelter of side-paths and back alleys.

  Bobby's letter to Archie on the subject of the encounter, though hardlya model of orthography, was as stirring as the ballad of Chevy Chase.

  'She lade the villin flat on the erth, and I just wish you cud have seenher punch his hed,' he wrote. 'She nocked him about like a pottatoe.Peggy is awful strong wen her blud is up, and she sez she wuld do itagen to save my Life. Jones minor stopt at home two days arfter. Hecudunt stand the jeers of the other boys, and they still give it himbadly. Farrar is jolly good to me now. I like fagging for him betterthan enything. Peggy won't tork about wot she has done at all. She sezshe is rather ashamed of it now, and that you wuld think her a biggertomboy than ever; but all the boys at skule call her a brick, and so doI, and if she comes to see the bote race at Easter they mean to chearher.'

  Archie wrote back at once to congratulate the heroine, and Peggytreasured the letter for days, until the new pet lamb accidentallychewed it up. It ran thus:

  'MY DEAR PEGGY, 'I think it was just elegant of you, and I won't call you t..b.y any more if you don't like it. Instead I will christen you Ta-ka-pun-ka, which in the language of the Chincowawas means "Girl-afraid-of-nothing," for you are as good as one of our Indian braves. I only wish you had taken his scalp, but I suppose you hadn't time. When I come back at Easter I will teach you to box, and then you will be ready for anybody, only please don't tackle me. I shall have to be careful how I quarrel with you now. If I am home in time for the boat-race I shall come and cheer, too. I am longing to get back to Gorswen. Bobby never said if the water-wheel was all right. I hope no one has touched it while I have been away. Why don't you write and tell me about it, and about Sky Cottage, too? I shall have heaps of school news for you when I come home, and I have thought of several fresh things we can make; but I shan't tell you what they are till I see you, so curb your curiosity until the holidays.

  'Hoping Prickles, and the rabbits, and all the other pets are well, 'Your affectionate friend, 'ARCHIE FORSTER.'