Read More About Peggy Page 12


  CHAPTER TWELVE.

  Rob received Peggy's confession of her latest gardening exploit with aroar of good-natured laughter. She had been afraid lest he might beangry, or--what would have been even worse--superior and forbearing; buthe was neither the one nor the other. Such a genuine, Peggy-Pickletrick, he declared, was worth taking some trouble to enjoy, and went fartowards consoling him for the advent of a fashionable young lady in theplace of his mischievous little friend. His generosity was notsufficient, however, to prevent him from enlarging on the exceedingbeauty of the seedlings which had been so ruthlessly disturbed, andPeggy listened in an agony to a string of names wherein syllables ranriot. _Salpiglossis_! Alas, alas! she had not the faintest idea whatthe flower was like, but the name was exquisite, all-satisfying. Itrolled off her tongue with sonorous effect. To speak of it alone wouldhave been joy. She looked so meek and wretched that Rob nerved himselfto fresh efforts, and wrought miracles on her behalf, so that if by anychance she admired a plant in The Larches' garden, that plant wastransplanted bodily to Yew Hedge, and smiled a welcome to her on hernext approach.

  The gardener pointed out the folly of moving plants in bloom, andprophesied failure; but no failure came, for plants have their likes anddislikes, like other living creatures, and there is no doubt that theyare more amiably disposed to some people than to others. If another manhad been rash enough to disturb their flowering, they would have sulkedfor the rest of the season, and made him suffer for his boldness; but noplant ever sulked at Robert Darcy. He had simply to lay it down in anyspot he liked, and, behold, it grew and flourished! His fingers seemedto possess the power to impart health and strength, and, thanks to hiscare, Peggy soon felt safe from ridicule, at least on the score of hergarden, and could devote herself with an easy mind to the work indoors.She experienced the usual string of aggravations which are known toevery one moving into a new house; tradesmen took twice the allottedtime to fulfil an order, and eventually sent home the wrong article;patterns selected were invariably "out of stock"; escapes of gas made itnecessary to deface newly decorated walls; and effects which wereintended to be triumphs of artistic beauty, turned out snares anddisappointments. From the lofty frame of mind which aims at nothingshort of perfection, Peggy subsided by degrees into that resignedmelancholy in which the exhausted strugglers feel that "anything willdo," if only, by chance, a house may be made fit to live in.

  It was on the occasion of a final visit to town, two days before theremoval, that Mrs Asplin surprised Peggy by expressing a desire to bearher company.

  "I have several things to do, and I should like to go when I can haveyour help," she said; and the vicar's face instantly assumed anexpression of the profoundest dejection. He knew that his wife'sexpeditions into town invariably demanded toll in the shape of a nervousheadache the next day, and hastened to raise his usual note of protest.Why need she go? Could she not send her order by post, or could notPeggy buy what was wanted? Why tire herself needlessly, when she had nostrength to spare? She knew very well--"How unwell I shall be!"concluded his wife for him with a laugh. "Really and truly, Austindear, I want to do something this time that no one else can do for me.I'll promise to be careful, and drive about all the time, and get a goodlunch."

  "Penny omnibuses, and tea and scones! I know your days in town. Ah,well, a wilful woman must have her way! If you have made up your mindto go, it's no use arguing; but I don't know what it can be you need sobadly. We seem to have everything we need."

  "Blessed, blessed, ignorance of man!" cried Peggy, rolling her eyes tothe ceiling. "It's all very well for you, sir, who can never wearanything but a black coat and hat, but consider the fascinations ofsummer fashions to poor defenceless women! Mrs Asplin and I want tolook at the shops, and groan in chorus over all the distractingfripperies which we want so badly, and can't afford. We pretend we haveweighty business; but that is the true explanation, isn't it, dear?"

  "Oh yes--I love shop windows!" replied Mrs Asplin vaguely. She hadwandered to the window, and stood looking out on to the garden, with herback turned to her companions. Peggy would have followed, but, on herapproach, the other walked quickly forward and began stooping over theflower-beds, and snipping off the withered blossoms. For some reason itwas evident that she did not wish to be followed, and Peggy felt anuneasy pang at the sight of her flushed, exhausted face. During herlengthened visit to the vicarage she had become more and more consciousof the lack of strength shown by the dear mistress of the house. Herspirit was as cheery as ever, but she no longer raced up and down in herold impetuous manner, but rather spent half her time resting on thesofa, with the busy hands lying idly on her lap.

  She did not like to make any protest, since Mrs Asplin's mind wasevidently set on going to town, but she privately registered adetermination to charter a hansom by the hour, and see that the shoppingexpedition was conducted in the most luxurious manner possible.

  It did not seem as if there was much to be done after all, for Peggy'sbusiness being concluded, her companion invested in a yard of ribbon,and some Berlin wool, and then pronounced her shopping finished.

  "But there is something else I have to do, dear," she explained,catching the girl's glance of amazement. "The real reason why I came upto-day was to see a doctor. I did not wish to distress them at home,but I've not been feeling well, Peg; I have not been well for a longtime. I have made an appointment with a doctor in Harley Street, and ifyou will go with me I'll be very grateful. I am not nervous, but--butit feels a little bit lonesome to go alone!"

  She turned her face towards the girl and smiled at her, with sweet,tired eyes, and Peggy's heart gave a sickening throb of apprehension.She put out her hand and slid it lovingly through the other's arm.

  "Of course I'll go, and proud that you ask me! Poor darling! so that isthe way you do your shop-staring! It is just like you to allow yourselfto be blamed, rather than give pain or anxiety. I thought you werelooking ill, and am so glad you have made up your mind to consult afirst-rate man. He will find out what is the matter, and put you rightagain in no time."

  "He can't put new works into an old machine. Not even the cleverestdoctor can do that. The springs are giving out, Peg, and I can only berepaired, not cured. I don't expect to be made well, but I want to keepgoing if possible, for the sake of Austin and the children. I have beenintending to pay this visit for a year back, but I kept putting it offand off. I was afraid of what he might say."

  "Nonsense! Afraid, indeed! He'll laugh at your fears, and give you atonic which will make you perfectly well again."

  Mrs Asplin smiled, and was silent. Twenty-one could not be expected torealise the weakness and pain which come as companions, and not asguests; the weakness which must grow greater instead of less; the painwhich cannot be charmed away. It is not to be wished that it should,for youthful optimism has its own work to accomplish in the world; butit would tend to a better understanding between old and young, if thelatter would remember that it is the lack of hope which makes thebitterest drop in the cup of age! To bear the weary ache, and know thatit will grow worse; to feel one power after another slipping away, andto realise that it is for ever; to be lonely, and to see the lonelinessclosing in ever deeper and deeper. Ah, think of it, young impatientsoul! Think of it and be tender, be loving! Spare not the sweet giftof sympathy. The time will come when you will long to have done stillmore.

  Peggy held Mrs Asplin's hand in her own as they sat waiting together inthe doctor's study, and kept her seat sturdily through the interviewwhich followed. She felt instinctively that her presence was a supportto her friend, and that the consciousness of her sympathy was a supportduring the trying ordeal. The doctor questioned, and the patientreplied. He scanned her face with his practised eyes, felt her pulse,and produced a stethoscope from the table. Then for a time there wassilence, while he knelt and listened, and listened again, and Peggyheard her own heart throb through the silence. He was an old man, withan expression full of that la
rge tenderness which seems the birthmark ofthe true physician, and he lingered over his task, as if unwilling toface what lay beyond. At last he rose and laid the stethoscopecarefully on the table, letting his fingers linger over the task. Peggyheard him catch his breath in a struggling sigh, and for a moment hiseyes met her own, anxious and troubled.

  "Well?" queried Mrs Asplin gently. "Well, tell me the verdict!"--andthe doctor crossed the room again and seated himself by her side.

  "My dear lady, you ask a hard question. It is difficult to say in a fewwords all that one thinks of a case. You are not strong; you need rest.I will prescribe for you, and see you again later on, and meanwhile Ishould like to see your husband, if he could have a talk with me here.There are certain rules which I should like you to observe, but we don'tcare to trouble patients with these matters. It is simpler and betterto instruct their friends."

  Mrs Asplin looked at him steadily, a smile lighting up her face.

  "Ah, doctor, it won't do. You can't take me in at all!" she cried inher winsome Irish voice. "It's the truth I want, and no pretence. Myhusband believes that I am shop-gazing in Regent Street, and that's allhe is going to hear about this visit. He is delicate himself, and putsan altogether exaggerated value on his old wife. Indeed, he'd worry usboth to death if he knew I were ill. Don't be frightened to speakplainly. I am not a coward! I can bear the truth, whatever it may be.It is the heart that is wrong?"

  "Yes," he said, and looked at her with kindly eyes. There was aninvincible fascination about Mrs Asplin which strangers were quick toacknowledge, and it was easy to see that admiration and respect combinedto make his task exceptionally trying. "Yes, the heart is very weak.It can never have been strong, I think, and you have not sparedyourself. You are the kind of woman who has lived, in the fullest senseof the word; lived in every faculty--"

  "Every single one, and I'm thankful for it! I've been so happy, sorich, so sheltered! Whatever happens now, I have been one of the mostfortunate of women, and dare not complain. So tell me, please, whatdoes it mean? To what must I look forward?"

  "You must face the fact that you can no longer afford to live at fullpressure. You must be content to let others work, and to look onquietly. I fear you must face increasing weakness and languor."

  "And for--how long? My children are still young. I should like to seethem settled. I should like to feel my husband had other homes open tohim when he was left alone. If I am _very_ careful--for how long?"

  Peggy closed her eyes with a feeling of suffocation. The pulses in herears were beating like hammers, the floor seemed to rock to and frobeneath her feet, and the doctor's voice sounded from an immensedistance.

  "Perhaps three years. I don't think more. If you ask me for an honestopinion, I should say probably three years--"

  Three years to live, and then--_death_. Three years longer in thathappy home, and then good-bye to all who loved her. Three years! Threeyears! The words repeated themselves over and over in Peggy's brain asshe sat motionless in her chair, staring at the opposite wall. Outsidein the street an organ was grinding out a popular air, the front dooropened and shut, and footsteps passed along the hall, a little heathenidol upon the mantelpiece nodded his head at her in mocking fashion.Some one was talking at the other end of the room in a quiet, leveltone, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. It was surely--surelynot Mrs Asplin herself?

  "Thank you! It is kinder to tell me the truth; but the time is shorterthan I expected. I should like to ask one more question. Shall I bedoing my husband a wrong in keeping this from him? Could he do anythingto prolong my life? I am most anxious not to throw this shadow over ourhome; but if he could help in any way, it would, of course, be my dutyto spare him the pain of knowing afterwards that more might have beendone."

  "He could do nothing except shield you from exertion, and that you cando for yourself. I should say, on the whole, that it would be betterfor you, even physically speaking, to secure the cheerfulness ofsurrounding that would come from ignorance, than to be continuallyreminded of yourself by the anxiety of your family. Remember alwaysthat you are your own best doctor! I have told you the worst, and now Imay add that I have known people in as precarious a condition asyourself live twice, and even three times the time specified by theirdoctors. You know what is needful--a peaceful life without excitement;fresh air, rest, and, above all things, the specific which our Quakerfriends have named for us, `_The quiet mind_.'"

  His voice dropped to a softened cadence as he spoke those last words,and the tears started in the listener's eyes.

  "Yes--yes! I know. I'll remember that. Thank you, thank you for allyour kindness!"

  The eyes of doctor and patient met in a long, steady glance, which hadin it a light, as of recognition. They were friends indeed, though theymet for the first time to-day; for they were bound together by theclosest of ties, in that they both served and trusted a common Master!In that moment, when as it seemed she stood upon the brink of death,Mrs Asplin's mind travelled with lightning speed over the years whichhad passed since she first gave herself and her concerns into the handsof her Saviour, and trusted Him to care for her in this world and thenext. Had He ever failed her? A thousand times, no! Sickness,anxiety, even death itself, had visited her home, but the peace whichwas Christ's parting gift to His disciples had dwelt in her heart, andHe Himself had never seemed so near as when trouble fell, and for a timehid the sun in the skies. If she had known beforehand that she was tolose her first-born darling, to spend long years in painful anxietyabout her husband's health, and to see her children's future crippledfor lack of means to give them the best opportunities, her heart wouldhave sunk with fear, and she would have declared the trial too great forher strength; yet He had enabled her to bear them all, and with eachfresh trial had given a fresh revelation of His mercy. She hadsubmitted to His will, weeping, it may be, but without bitterness orrebellion, and the reward had come in the serene peacefulness whichpossessed her soul. Christ had done all this for her, and now in thislatest trial she looked to Him to support and comfort to the end.

  "Thank you, doctor," she murmured once more; and a moment later Peggyand Mrs Asplin were in the passage, following the old butler towardsthe door. It seemed years and years since they had paced it last, butnothing had changed. The man let them pass out without a glance intheir direction, as though it were the most commonplace thing in theworld for people to receive a death-warrant in the course of half anhour's visit. The pavement outside was flooded with sunshine, carriageswere driving to and fro; two men walking along together broke into apeal of laughter as they passed; a newsboy shouted out some item ofpopular interest. Nobody knew, nobody cared! The great, noisy, cruelworld jostled on its way as if such things as death and parting had nomeaning in its ears. Peggy's young heart swelled with bitterness. Shedared not speak to Mrs Asplin, dared not trust her own voice, but shedrew the thin hand through her arm, and gripped it with passionatefervour. They walked on in silence the length of the block, thenstopped instinctively, and exchanged a long, earnest look. MrsAsplin's eyes were shining with a deep inward glow, the colour had comeback to her cheeks, her expression was calm and peaceful.

  "Peggy, child!" she exclaimed softly; "you are so white! This has beena strain for you, dearie. You must have lunch at once."

  Even at this supreme moment of her life her first thought was forothers, not herself!