More About Peggy

by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey

  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  For the next few weeks Esther's approaching marriage seemed to engrossattention to the exclusion of every other topic. To Mellicent's delightthe professor fulfilled Peggy's prophecy by putting his veto on thetravelling-dress proposition. The wedding should be quiet, the quieterthe better, but Esther must wear the orthodox attire, for he wished tokeep the memory of a white-robed bride with him throughout life. Alonewith Esther, he added one or two lover-like speeches on the point, whichmore than reconciled her for the extra fuss and flurry which wereinvolved in gratifying his desire. A white dress involved bridesmaids,so Peggy received her invitation, and was the less appreciative of theposition since every day brought with it a fresh interview withMellicent, eager, incoherent, brimming over with an entirely new set ofideas on the all-important subject of dress. Esther herself went abouther preparations in characteristic fashion, thoughtful of expense, offatigue for others, yet with a transparent appreciation of her ownimportance, which was altogether girl-like and natural, and Mrs Asplinentered into every detail of the arrangements with whole-hearted zeal.She was so happy in Esther's happiness, so thankful for the feeling ofadditional strength and comfort for the future given by the prospect ofthe new home, so proud of her distinguished son-in-law, that the oldmerry spirit sparkled forth as brightly as ever, and with it such amarked improvement in health as rejoiced Peggy's heart to behold.

  "Indeed, it's a perfect fraud I feel!" she explained one day, when thegirl had expressed delight at her altered looks; "for I seem able to doall I want, while just as soon as I begin a tiresome duty I'm tired allover, and feel fit for nothing but to lie down on my bed. I can standany amount of happiness, Peg, and not one little scrap of worry, andthat's a disgraceful confession for a woman of my years to make to agirl like you! Ah, well, dearie, I've borne my own share of worries,and when the old ships are worn out, they don't brave the storms anymore, but sail peacefully up and down the quiet streams. It's just auseless old derelict I am, and that's the truth of it."

  "Derelict, indeed! You will never be more than seventeen, if you liveto be seventy. You are the youngest member of the family at thismoment, and if you spoke the honest truth you would acknowledge that youare in your element in the midst of these wedding preparations! Ibelieve you are far more excited than Esther herself."

  "Indeed and I am. There is nothing I enjoy more than planning andcontriving, and making a great deal out of nothing at all. I've had agrand turn out of my boxes and cupboards, and brought to light someforgotten treasures which will come in most usefully just now. Itreminds me of the time before my own marriage, when I sat stitchingdreams of bliss into every seam, and indeed they have been fulfilled,for I have been a blessedly happy woman! Now just look at these thingshalf a moment, my child, and tell me what you think I could do withthem. You are so clever at planning, and poor dear Esther is not a bitof good in that direction. If you could suggest what to make, I couldcut out the patterns and set to work at once."

  Mrs Asplin waved her hands towards a table on which her resurrectedtreasures were spread out to view, and Peggy dropped her chin with apreternaturally solemn expression, to avoid bursting into laughter. Itwas such a melancholy-looking bundle, and Mrs Asplin looked so proud ofit, and it was so deliciously like the old vicarage way, to endeavour tomake everything out of something else, and to rummage out a store of oldrubbish, as the first step towards manufacturing a new garment! Thetreasures which were to contribute towards Esther's trousseau consistedof a moth-eaten Paisley shawl, a checked silk skirt of unbelievablehideousness, a muslin scarf; yellow with age, a broken ivory fan, and apair of mittens. A vision of Esther figuring as a bride in this old-world costume, rose before Peggy's quick-seeing eyes, the checked silktransforming her slim figure into Mother-Bunch proportions, the shawlfolded primly round her shoulders, the fan waving to and fro in themittened hand. Do what she would, she could not control the inwardspasm of laughter; her shoulders heaved and shook, and Mrs Asplin feltthe movement, and turned a quick glance upon her.

  "Laughing? What for? Don't you like them then? You saucy child, and Ithought they were so nice!"

  "Oh, mater dear, and so they are--in their present condition; but theidea of converting them into fashionable new garments is too funnyaltogether. You might as well try to cut up an oak-tree into fancyborderings. Leave them as they are, dear, and lend them to me, so thatI may dress up and amuse my people. Then they will be doing real goodwork."

  "I'll do nothing of the kind. Much obliged to you for the suggestion,but I can make better use of them than that. You are as bad asMellicent, laughing at my poor old treasures. I don't know what theworld is coming to, I'm sure. Such upsetting notions the young folksare getting." Mrs Asplin swept up the despised trophies in her arms,and bustled out of the room with a show of displeasure, which, truth totell, had little effect upon the culprit. It was not the first, nor thesecond, nor the twentieth time that a similar scene had been enacted,for "mother's resurrections" were a standing joke in the Asplin family,and the final fate thereof an open secret. However lofty might be thefirst suggested use, the end was always the same. Her offerings scornedby ungrateful relatives, she took refuge in dusters, and patientlyhemmed squares of the rejected fabrics, with which to enrich the alreadylordly store of these useful commodities. On the present occasion shehad hardly passed the door before she had decided that for drawing-roomuse nothing was really so good as a soft silk duster. The fate of theold check skirt was sealed!

  The summer passed away very rapidly for Peggy, dividing her time betweentwo happy homes, on both of which the sun shone as brightly andcontinuously as in the world without, and shadows seemed for the presentto have hidden themselves away. Colonel and Mrs Saville were full ofdelight in their new home, and the sense of rest and security which camefrom being settled down in England, with their children beside them.Arthur's prospects improved from day to day as he became more widelyknown and appreciated, while Peggy was an hourly comfort and delight.Her post as only daughter was no sinecure, for a delicate mother leftall the household management in her hands, while an exacting fathergrumbled loudly if she were not ready to bestow her company upon him ata moment's notice. Like most men who have lived in India and have beenaccustomed to an unlimited number of native servants, Colonel Savillewas by no means easy to satisfy. He expected the household arrangementsto move along as if on oiled wheels, whereas, needless to say, a_menage_ over which Miss Peggy presided, was subject on the contrary tosome painful vicissitudes. When the post of housekeeper had beendeputed to her, Peggy had been greatly elated by her increasedimportance, and with characteristic modesty had expatiated upon herpeculiar fitness for the post, and declared her intention of exhibitinga really well-conducted establishment to the gaze of the world. Sheprovided herself with a huge account book, marched about the housejingling an enormous bunch of keys, and would allow no one else butherself to weigh out provisions in the store-room. The first week'sbill made Colonel Saville open his eyes, but his daughter explained withmuch suavity that, living so far from shops of every description, it wasnecessary to lay in a large stock of dried goods, so that one should beable to supplement a meal on the arrival of unexpected visitors, andalso be independent of the vagaries of parcel post. This was anunanswerable argument, and the colonel was the more inclined toacquiesce, since the menus of the last week had been all that even hisexacting taste could desire.

  There were few things which Peggy could not manage to accomplish if shegave her mind to the subject, and while the novelty of the charge lastedshe spared neither time nor pains to ensure success. The morning'sconsultation with the cook was a solemn function with which nothing wasallowed to interfere. New and fantastic arrangements of flowers gracedthe dinner-table each day, and the parlour-maid quailed before an eyewhich seemed able to descry dust in the most out-of-the-way corners.

  For the first week, then, all went well, and the new housekeeper sunnedherself in an atmosphere of pra
ise and congratulation. The coloneltugged his moustache and vowed that at this rate she would beat the"boy" who had managed his Indian home. Mrs Saville murmured:

  "My darling, you are so clever! I can't think how you do it!" and thecook said that she had seen a deal of the world, and knew her way aboutas well as most, but never, no never, had she met a young lady with herhead screwed so straight on her shoulders.

  Protestations, however, do not go on for ever, and it is astonishing howspeedily a new regime loses its novelty, and is taken as a matter ofcourse. When Peggy had been in command a fortnight, no one thought ofpraising her efforts any more, or of expressing satisfaction at theirresult. It was simply taken for granted that she would fulfil her dutywithout any more being said on the subject. She had been congratulatedon her start, and that was all that was required. One could not beexpected to lay daily tribute of praise at her feet. Unfortunately,however, this was just what Miss Peggy _did_ expect, and in proportionas the applause died away, so did her interest in her duties. It grewmonotonous to weigh out everlasting stores: dinners and lunches seemedto come round with disgraceful rapidity, and the question of foodabsorbed an unreasonable amount of time out of one's life. Cook lookedaskance when two courses were suddenly cut off the evening dinner, andcold meat ordered as the _piece de resistance_ at lunch, hut there wereworse things in store!

  There came a morning when she waited for her young mistress's appearanceuntil ten o'clock came, and eleven, and twelve, and waited in vain, forMiss Peggy was far away, scouring the country on her bicycle, with nevera thought for home duties until a spasm of hunger brought with it a pangof recollection. Horrors! she had forgotten all about the morning'sorders and here it was close upon lunch-time, and her father doubtlessalready wending his way home, hungrily anticipating his tiffin.

  Surely, surely cook would rise to the occasion and arrange a menu on herown account! Peggy comforted herself in the certainty that this wouldbe the case, the while she pedalled home as fast as wheels would takeher. But she was mistaken in her surmises. Mistress Cook had no ideaof being played fast and loose with in this haphazard fashion, andhaving, moreover, been elaborately snubbed on a previous occasion whenshe had ventured to advance her own views, was not altogether unwillingto avenge her dignity now that opportunity had arisen.

  When Peggy rushed breathlessly into the kitchen at half-past twelve,there were the remnants of yesterday's repast spread out on the tablefor her inspection, and not one single preparation made for the mealwhich was so near at hand. Cook was frigid, Peggy desperate, butdifficulty had the effect of stimulating her faculties, and sheapproached the offended dignitary in a manner at once so ingenious andso beguiling that her anger melted away like snow before the sun.

  "Emergency," quoth Miss Peggy grandiloquently, smiling into the sullenface--"emergency is the test of genius! You have now one quarter of anhour in which to prepare a meal, and very poor material with which towork. Here is a chance to distinguish yourself! I am so ignorant thatI had best leave you to your own resources; but anything you need fromthe store-room I will bring down at once. Just give me your orders!"

  Could anything have been more diplomatic? To be asked at the eleventhhour to fulfil a definite order would have been an additional offence,but it was not in cook-nature not to rise to so insinuating a bait!Punctual to time such a tempting little luncheon appeared upon the tableas evoked special praise from the fastidious master, the cook beingcommended for the success of omelette, _entree_ and savoury, and Peggycoming in for her own share of congratulation on her powers as acaterer. The crisis was passed, and passed successfully, but theanxiety consequent thereon had the beneficial effect of arousing Peggy'sattention to the danger of her own position, and giving a fresh lease oflife to her energies. Mrs Beeton, the account book, and the keys weremore in evidence than ever, and it was fully a fortnight before thesecond relapse recurred. It came on, however, slowly but surely, andother crises occurred which could not be so successfully overcome, aswhen Peggy drove a distance of three miles to interview butcher andfishmonger, and meeting Rob _en route_ went off on a ferning expedition,returning home rosy and beaming, to discover an empty larder and astormy parent; or again when she forgot the Thursday holiday, anddeferred her orders until closed doors barred her entrance. The storeswere frequently in request in those days, so that monotony became theorder of the day, and the colonel inquired ironically if he were livingin the Bush, since he was put on a diet of tinned food. Peggy peakedmiserable brows, and said she never had seen such a stupid littlevillage! She did her best. Only this very day she had left anenthralling story to cycle miles and miles to buy fish and meat, hadsuffered tortures _en route_ from the heat and dust, and behold theshops were closed! It always _was_ Thursday afternoon somehow. Shecould not think how it occurred. But the colonel was not so easilyappeased. His moustache bristled and his eyes flashed with the steel-like glance which always came when he was annoyed.

  "Excuses!" he thundered. "Idle excuses! It is your own fault forforgetting what it is your business to remember, and it only adds to theoffence to shield yourself by blaming others. Fine thing this, to bestarved in my own house by my own daughter! I'd better sell up at onceand go and live in a club. If you were a practical, well-regulatedyoung woman, as you ought to be, you would put business first, and makeno more of these stupid blunders!"

  "But I _should_ be so uninteresting! Practical people who never makemistakes are such dreary bores. Novelty is the spice of life, fatherdear, and if you would only regard it in the right light, even a baddinner is a blessing in disguise. It does so help one to appreciate agood one when it comes! At least you must acknowledge that there is nomonotony in my method!"

  But for once the colonel refused to smile, and when he had marched outof the room, Mrs Saville took advantage of the occasion to speak one ofthose rare words of admonition which were all-powerful in her daughter'sear.

  "Don't worry your father, Peg darling!" she said. "It doesn't matterfor ourselves when we are alone, for we don't care what we eat, but menare different. They like comfortable meals, and it is only right thatthey should have them. Give a little thought to your work, and try toarrange things more equally, so that we shall not have a feast one nightand a fast the next. Little careless ways like these are more annoyingto a man's temper than more serious offences. It is difficult for you,I know, dearie, but I won't offer to release you from theresponsibility, for it will be valuable experience. Some day you willhave a house of your own and a husband to consider."

  Peggy gave a grunt of disapproval.

  "I'll marry a vegetarian, and live on nuts," she declared gloomily."But I will try to do better, mummie dear, I will indeed, so don't youworry your sweet head! I'll be as good as a little automatic machine,and never forget nothing no more. When Eunice comes, I'll ask her tosay, `Lunch, lunch! Dinner, dinner!' to me every morning regularly atnine o'clock, and then I can't forget. I like Eunice! She is such anagreeable complement to myself. I can help her where she fails, and shecan do the same for me. You will see, mother dear, that Eunice willexert a most beneficial influence over me! She is one of those gentle,mousy people who have an immense influence when they choose to exertit."

  "She seems to have that. I've noticed it more than once," said MrsSaville drily, and her eyes wandered to a closely written sheet whichlay on the table by her side. It was Arthur's latest letter, and in ithis mother's watchful eyes had discovered an unprecedented number ofreferences to his chiefs daughter. "Miss Rollo did this; Miss Rollo didthat; Miss Rollo said one thing and planned another." Five separatetimes had that name been connected with Arthur's own experiences. MrsSaville drew her delicate brows together and heaved a sigh. A mother'sunselfishness is never perhaps so hardly tried as when she feels herascendency threatened in the affections of an only son.