About Peggy Saville, Page 6

  CHAPTER SIX.

  A NEW FRIENDSHIP.

  A week after this, Mrs Saville came to pay her farewell visit beforesailing for India. Mother and daughter went out for a walk in themorning, and retired to the drawing-room together for the afternoon.There was much that they wanted to say to each other, yet for the mostpart they were silent, Peggy sitting with her head on her mother'sshoulder, and Mrs Saville's arms clasped tightly round her. Every nowand then she stroked the smooth brown head, and sometimes Peggy raisedher lips and kissed the cheek which leant against her own, but thesentences came at long intervals.

  "If I were ill, mother--a long illness--would you come?"

  "On wings, darling! As fast as boat and train could bring me."

  "And if you were ill?"

  "I should send for you, if it were within the bounds of possibility--Ipromise that! You must write often, Peggy--long, long letters. Tell meall you do, and feel, and think. You will be almost a woman when wemeet again. Don't grow up a stranger to me, darling."

  "Every week, mother! I'll write something each day, and then it will belike a diary. I'll tell you every bit of my life..."

  "Be a good girl, Peggy. Do all you can for Mrs Asplin, who is so kindto you. She will give you what money you need, and if at any time youshould want more than your ordinary allowance, for presents or anyspecial purpose, just tell her about it, and she will understand. Youcan have anything in reason; I want you to be happy. Don't fret,dearie. I shall be with father, and the time will pass. In three yearsI shall be back again, and then, Peg, then, how happy we shall be! Onlythree years."

  Peggy shivered, and was silent. Three years seem an endless space whenone is young. She shut her eyes, and pondered drearily upon all thatwould happen before the time of separation was passed. She would beseventeen, nearly eighteen--a young lady who wore dresses down at herankles, and did up her hair. This was the last time, the very, verylast time when she would be a child in her mother's arms. The newrelationship might be nearer, sweeter, but it could never be the same,and the very sound of the words "the last time" sends a pang to theheart.

  Half an hour later the carriage drove up to the door. Mr and MrsAsplin came into the room to say a few words of farewell, and then leftPeggy to see her mother off. There were no words spoken on the way, andso quietly did they move that Robert had no suspicion that anyone wasnear, as he took off his shoes in the cloak-room opening off the hall.He tossed his cap on to a nail, picked up his book, and was just aboutto sally forth, when the sound of a woman's voice sent a chill throughhis veins. The tone of the voice was low, almost a whisper, yet he hadnever in his life heard anything so thrilling as its intense andyearning tenderness. "Oh, my Peggy!" it said. "My little Peggy!" Andthen, as in reply, came a low moaning sound, a feeble bleat like that ofa little lamb torn from its mother's side. Robert charged back into thecloak-room, and kicked savagely at the boots and shoes which werescattered about the floor, his lips pressed together, and his browsmeeting in a straight black line across his forehead. Another minute,and the carriage rolled away. He peeped out of the door in time to seea little figure fly out into the rain, and walking slowly towards theschoolroom came face to face with Mrs Asplin.

  "Gone?" she inquired sadly. "Well, I'm thankful it is over. Poorlittle dear, where is she? Flown up to her room, I suppose. We'llleave her alone until tea-time. It will be the truest kindness."

  "Yes," said Robert vaguely. He was afraid that the good lady would notbe so willing to leave Peggy undisturbed if she knew her realwhereabouts, and was determined to say nothing to undeceive her. Hefelt sure that the girl had hidden herself in the summer-house at thebottom of the garden, and a nice, damp, mouldy retreat it would be thisafternoon, with the rain driving in through the open window, and thecreepers dripping on the walls. Just the place in which to sit andbreak your heart, and catch rheumatic fever with the greatest possibleease. And yet Robert said no word of warning to Mrs Asplin. He had aninward conviction that if anyone were to go to the rescue, that personshould be himself, and that he, more than anyone else, would be able tocomfort Peggy in her affliction. He sauntered up and down the halluntil the coast was clear, then dashed once more into the cloak-room,took an Inverness coat from a nail, a pair of goloshes from the floor,and sped rapidly down the garden-path. In less than two minutes he hadreached the summer-house, and was peeping cautiously in at the door.Yes; he was right. There sat Peggy, with her arms stretched out beforeher on the rickety table, her shoulders heaving with long, gasping sobs.Her fingers clenched and unclenched themselves spasmodically, and thesmooth little head rolled to and fro in an abandonment of grief. Robertstood looking on in silent misery. He had a boy's natural hatred oftears, and his first impulse was to turn tail, go back to the house, andsend someone to take his place; but even as he hesitated he shivered inthe chilly damp, and remembered the principal reason of his coming. Hestepped forward and dropped the cloak over the bent shoulders, whereuponPeggy started up and turned a scared white face upon him.

  "Who, who--Oh! it is you! What do you want?"

  "Nothing. I saw you come out, and thought you would be cold. I broughtyou out my coat."

  "I don't want it; I am quite warm. I came here to be alone."

  "I know; I'm not going to bother. Mrs Asplin thinks you are in yourroom, and I didn't tell her that I'd seen you go out. But it's damp.If you catch cold, your mother will be sorry."

  Peggy looked at him thoughtfully, and there was a glimmer of gratitudein her poor tear-stained eyes.

  "Yes; I p-p-romised to be careful. You are very kind, but I can't thinkof anything to-night. I am too miserably wretched."

  "I know; I've been through it. I was sent away to a boarding-schoolwhen I was a little kid of eight, and I howled myself to sleep everynight for weeks. It is worse for you, because you are older, but youwill be happy enough in this place when you get settled. Mrs Asplin isa brick, and we have no end of fun. It is ever so much better thanbeing at school; and, I say, you mustn't mind what Mellicent said theother night. She's a little muff, always saying the wrong thing. Wewere only chaffing when we said you were to be our fag. We never reallymeant to bully you."

  "You c-couldn't if you t-tried," stammered Peggy brokenly, but with aflash of her old spirit which delighted her hearer.

  "No; of course not. You can stand up for yourself; I know that verywell. But look here: I'll make a compact, if you will. Let us befriends. I'll stick to you and help you when you need it, and you stickto me. The other girls have their brother to look after them, but ifyou want anything done, if anyone is cheeky to you, and you want himkicked, for instance, just come to me, and I'll do it for you. It's allnonsense about being a fag, but there are lots of things you could dofor me if you would, and I'd be awfully grateful. We might be partners,and help one another--"

  Robert stopped in some embarrassment, and Peggy stared fixedly at him,her pale face peeping out from the folds of the Inverness coat. She hadstopped crying, though the tears still trembled on her eyelashes, andher chin quivered in uncertain fashion. Her eyes dwelt on the broadforehead, the overhanging brows, the square, massive chin, andbrightened with a flash of approval.

  "You are a nice boy," she said slowly. "I like you! You don't reallyneed my help, but you thought it would cheer me to feel that I waswanted. Yes; I'll be your partner, and I'll be of real use to you yet.You'll find that out, Robert Darcy, before you have done with me."

  "All right, so much the better. I hope you will; but you know you can'texpect to have your own way all the time. I'm the senior partner, andyou will have to do what I tell you. Now I say it's damp in this hole,and you ought to come back to the house at once. It's enough to killyou to sit in this draught."

  "I'd rather like to be killed. I'm tired of life. I shouldn't minddying a bit."

  "Humph!" said Robert shortly. "Jolly cheerful news that would be foryour poor mother when she arrived at the end of her journey! Don't b
eso selfish. Now then, up you get! Come along to the house."

  "I wo--" Peggy began, then suddenly softened, and glanced apologeticallyinto his face. "Yes, I will, because you ask me. Smuggle me up to myroom, Robert, and don't, don't, if you love me, let Mellicent come nearme! I couldn't stand her chatter to-night!"

  "She will have to fight her way over my dead body," said Robert firmly;and Peggy's sweet little laugh quavered out on the air.

  "Nice boy!" she repeated heartily. "Nice boy; I do like you!"