CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
The pre-occupation of Peggy's manner during the next week was easilyattributed to the responsibility of superintending the settling down inthe new house. From morning until night she was rushing about from oneworker to another, planning, instructing, superintending, and when nightcame she crawled into bed, a weary, sore-footed little mortal, to fallasleep before her head well touched the pillow. The revelation of MrsAsplin's danger lay like a shadow across her path, but beyond a fewbrief words in the train, the subject had never been mentioned betweenthem after leaving the doctor's study.
"I hope I have not been selfish, Peggy, in taking you with me to-day,"Mrs Asplin had then said anxiously. "I can only tell you that you havehelped me greatly, and thank you with all my heart for your sympathy.Later on, dearie, we will have a talk together, and I will tell you whatis in my mind; but first of all I must fight my own battles, and gainthe prize of which the doctor spoke. `_The quiet mind_,' Peg! Whenthat comes, it will take away the sting!"
That was all, nor through the weeks that followed did ever a word or alook in the presence of her family betray the dread that lay at MrsAsplin's heart. Peggy, running in and out of the vicarage, would alwaysfind a smile awaiting, and a cheery word of greeting. At first she feltawkward and constrained, but by degrees the first painfulness of theimpression wore away, and with the natural hopefulness of youth itseemed that the doctor must have taken an unnecessarily gloomy view ofthe case, since a patient in so precarious a condition could surely notbe so bright, so cheery, so interested in the affairs of others! On herfirst few visits to the vicarage, the girl had felt that it would besacrilege to smile or jest as of yore, but it was impossible to keep upthis attitude when Mrs Asplin herself sparkled into mischief and ledthe bursts of laughter. That dreadful half-hour grew more and moreunreal, until at times it seemed a veritable dream.
A fortnight after the removal into Yew Hedge, a letter arrived from MrsRollo, inviting Peggy to come up to town on a two or three days' visit,to attend some festivities, and enjoy her brother's society. Arthur hadnot been able to leave town during the last few weeks, and the desire tosee more of him, and to be able to help him if possible, were powerfulinducements in his sister's mind. She anxiously considered if by anypossibility the household could exist deprived of her importantservices, and slowly accepted the assurance that it could! Thefurniture had been arranged, pictures hung and re-hung, and whatremained to be done in the way of blind-fitting, curtain-hanging, andthe like, could surely be managed without the assistance of a mastermind. She was sorry to leave the dear, new home, but three days wouldquickly pass, while, apart from the joy of seeing Arthur, it would bedelightful to get to know something more about that baffling personage,Miss Eunice Rollo.
Eunice was at the station to meet her visitor, all propriety and politecondolence on the fatigue of the journey; and Peggy, never to be outdonein grandeur of diction, replied in Mariquita fashion, so that anelaborate conversation all about nothing was carried on throughout thedrive home. Mrs Rollo was out, Arthur busy in the study, and threelong hours loomed ahead before it would be time to prepare for dinner.
"This is dreadful! We seem to be beginning all over again, from thevery first moment we met!" sighed Peggy to herself. "What on earth canI talk about next? If I could only make her laugh, we should get onbetter, but I can't be funny to order. At the present moment I have nota joke in my composition, and it's getting serious, for we haveexhausted the weather and the miseries of removing into a new house, andthe health of every single person we know. There's nothing for it butbooks! I'll turn her on to books, and dispute everything she says, andthat ought to keep us going for an hour at least." She cleared herthroat, and was just beginning an insinuating, "Have you read--" whenshe met an earnest look from the grey eyes, and Eunice said miserably:
"I know what you are thinking! I saw you looking at the clock. Youdon't know how to pass the time, or what to say next. I'm dreadfullysorry to be so stupid, but the more I want to talk, the more dumb Ibecome. I can't describe the sensation, but perhaps you have felt itfor yourself. Do tell me! Do you know what it is like to be shy? Didyou ever feel it?"
Peggy cudgelled her brains, unwilling to admit that any human experiencewas beyond her ken, but no! not one single instance of the kind couldshe remember. She had felt lonely at times, silent and unsociable, butnever shy! She shook her head.
"No--never! I love meeting strangers. It is like opening a new book.You can never tell what good friends you may become. When I meet someone for the first time, I look into her eyes, and say to myself--`Whatis she? Why is she? What does she think? Right away down at thebottom of her heart, what is she like? Do we belong to each other atall, or is there no single point where we can meet?' It is sointeresting! I assure you I drove through the City the other day in anomnibus, and discovered an affinity on the opposite seat! We justlooked at each other, and a sort of flash passed from her eyes to mine,and I said to myself, `Oh, I _do_ like you!' and I knew as well aspossible that she was thinking the same of me. We never spoke, and maynever meet again, but we _were_ friends all the same, and when I wentaway I said in my heart, `Good-bye, dear, good luck! So pleased to havemet you!' At other times I've seen people--Gr-r-r!" she hitched hershoulders to her ears and spread out her hands in disgust, "quiterespectable and ordinary-looking creatures, but there! I wouldn't touchthem with the end of my umbrella!"
Eunice regarded her with pensive envy.
"Oh dear, I wish I felt like that! It would be like a book, as you say.I love reading, but I always think real life is so different."
"And so much better! It's _true_," cried Peggy ardently, "and the otheris pretence. I think it's a glorious thing to live, and just mostmarvellously and wonderfully interesting. Why, think of it--every dayis a mystery. You make your plans in the morning, but you know nothingof what may happen before night! People sigh and moan over theuncertainty of life, but that is ungrateful, for there are happysurprises as well as sad, and all sorts of pleasant things cropping upwhich one never expects. And it ought to go on growing more and morebeautiful as we grow older, and can appreciate and understand."
"Yes," sighed Eunice softly. "Oh yes, and so it will--for you, Peggy,at least, for you have the gift of happiness. I feel things too, but Ican't express my feelings. I want to act, and I hang back tremblinguntil some one else steps forward. I try to speak, and my lips won'tmove. You don't know how dreadful it is to feel as if two iron bandswere placed round your mouth and would not _let_ you speak!"
Peggy laughed in conscience-stricken fashion.
"I--don't!" she cried comically, and her eyebrows went up in a peak. "Ihave a pretty considerable fluency of language, as an American cousinwould say, and the worst of it is, I speak first and think afterwards!Your iron bands remind me of the man in the dear old fairy-tale who wasunder the spell of a wicked magician, and had iron straps bound roundhis heart. There was only one way in which they could be broken, and noone knew what it was, but one day a peasant woman took pity on hissufferings and tried to nurse him, and snap! one of the bands broke offand fell to the ground. Another time a little child brought him somefood, and snap again! another disappeared. Last of all the beautifulprincess chose him for her husband before all her rich suitors, anddropped two things upon his cheek--a kiss and a tear, and at that allthe other bands broke at once, and he was free. Perhaps that storyreally meant that the man was shy and reserved, as you are, Eunice, andcould never show his real self until he found friends to love andunderstand. I am not going to shed tears over you, my dear, but may Ikiss you, please? You only shook hands when we met at the station."
Eunice rose up swiftly and knelt down at Peggy's feet. Her face waslifted to receive the offered kiss, and the flush upon her cheeks, thesmile on her lips revealed such unexpected possibilities of beauty asfilled the other with admiration. The features, were daintilyirregular, the skin fine and delicate as a child's, the hair roll
ed backin a soft, smoke-like ripple. The two girls looked at one another longand steadily, until at last Eunice said falteringly:
"What do you see in _my_ eyes, Peggy?" and Peggy answered promptly:
"I see a friend! Please let me go on seeing her. While I'm here,Eunice, give the carpet a rest and look at me instead. You can't denythat I'm better worth seeing."
"Oh, you are, especially when you pull faces!" responded Euniceunexpectedly. "Peggy, some day, when there is nothing else to do andyou are not tired, will you imitate people for me again? Will you?Will you do Hector Darcy and Miss Asplin and your father when he isangry? I have never laughed as much in my life as when you imitated theNational Gallery pictures, and Mr Saville says that these are evenfunnier. It must be delightful to be able to mimic people, if you aresure they won't think it unkind."
"Oh, but I invariably do it before them, and they don't mind a bit. Itamuses them intensely, and it's such a joke to see their faces. Theywear such a funny, sheepish, found-out sort of expression. Certainly,I'll give you a _seance_ whenever you like. How would it be if I beganby imitating Miss Rollo and the iron bands, welcoming a young friendfrom the country?"
Eunice gasped and fell back in her chair; whereupon, taking silence forconsent, Peggy placed her cup on the table, and crossed to the end ofthe room, where she went through a life-like pantomime of the scenewhich had happened on the station platform an hour before. The bows,the hand-shakes, the strained smiles of greeting were all repeated, andtwo chairs being drawn together to represent a carriage, Miss Peggyseated herself on the nearer of the two, and went through so word-perfect a repetition of the real dialogue as left her hearer speechlesswith consternation. Eunice heard her own voice bleat forth feebleinanities, saw her lips twist in the characteristic manner which she_felt_ to be so true, listened to Mariquita's gracious responses, andsaw, (what she had not seen before), the wide yawns of weariness whichPeggy averted her head to enjoy. The tremulous movement of her bodygrew more and more pronounced, until presently the tears were rollingdown her cheeks, and she was swaying in her chair in silent convulsionsof laughter. To see her laugh sent Peggy into responsive peals ofmerriment; to hear Peggy laugh heightened Eunice's amusement; so therethey sat, gasping, shaking, no sooner recovering some degree ofcomposure than a recurring chuckle would send them off into a conditionmore helpless than the last.
In the midst of one of these paroxysms the door opened, and Arthur stoodupon the threshold transfixed with surprise. To see Peggy laughing wasno uncommon circumstance, but it was a different matter where Miss Rollowas concerned. During the months which he had spent beneath herfather's roof, Arthur had been sorry for the girl who was left to herown devices by her pre-occupied parents, and had thought how fewpleasures she enjoyed, but had consoled himself by the reflection thatshe had little taste for the ordinary amusements of youth. Like a quietlittle mouse she slipped in and out, never voluntarily opening aconversation, nor prolonging it a moment longer than was necessary. Astruggling smile had seemed the height of merriment to which she couldattain, so that to see the quivering shoulders and streaming eyes wasindeed a revelation of the unexpected. Arthur's feelings were curiouslycontradictory at that moment. He was gratified at the tribute to hissister's fascination, and yet in some inexplicable manner conscious of ajarring note in his satisfaction. He himself had always been regardedas a sufficiently witty and interesting personage. How had it happenedthat he had failed where Peggy had succeeded?
When Eunice left the room to allow brother and sister to enjoy aconfidential chat, the conversation soon drifted to the subject of herown personality.
"Why did you never tell me what a darling she was?" Peggy demanded. "Ilove her already, and I am going to love her a great deal more. She isjust as sweet as can be, and here have you been living in this house formonths, and never a word have you told me about her, except that there_was_ a daughter, and that she was twenty-two. It's not like you to beso unappreciative, my dear! Don't you think she deserves more attentionthan that?"
"I don't think I thought much about her in anyway," replied Arthur, withthat air of masculine superiority which never failed to rouse hissister's ire. "She seems a nice quiet sort of girl."
Peggy sniffed contemptuously, and tossed her head in the air.
"Nice quiet girl indeed! Is that your verdict? She is ch-arming, mydear, that's what she is, and as for looks--Well, she may not bestriking to the casual observer, but if you take the trouble to look ather face, it's like a beautiful old miniature. Did you _ever_ seeanything like her eyelashes? They come half-way down her cheeks, andher eyes are the sweetest I have ever seen, except Mrs Asplin's."
"Eyes!" echoed Arthur vaguely. "Eyelashes! Really!--I'm afraid I havenever noticed."
"Then please notice at once. It's time you did. Don't let me have abat for a brother, if you please. Some people look so much at otherpeople that they can't see the people who are staring them in the face!"cried Miss Peggy elegantly, whereupon Arthur suddenly discovered that itwas time to dress for dinner, and hurried her upstairs to her own room.