Peggy Raymond's Way; Or, Blossom Time at Friendly Terrace

by Harriet L. Smith

  CHAPTER XX

  A SURPRISE

  RATHER to the surprise of those who knew her best, Peggy had decided ona church wedding. But when she came to give her reasons, the decisionseemed characteristic, after all.

  "I think this is the dearest house in the world. When Graham and I comeback from South America, I hope we can find one just like it--and onFriendly Terrace, too. But it's not what you'd call spacious. A dozenextra people crowd it, and it makes you uncomfortable to have a weddingand leave out so many."

  "Our wedding seems likely to be a unique affair," grinned Graham. "Fromthe looks of Peggy's list, the guests will make up in variety what theylack in exclusiveness. What do you think of her asking the Bonds?"

  "Now, Graham, that's not fair. I haven't any idea of asking the Bondfamily. I only said that Elvira had improved so much that I felt likeencouraging her by sending her an invitation."

  "And the Dunns. She's got them down." For all matrimonialresponsibilities loomed so close, Graham's boyish fondness for teasingremained one of his most prominent characteristics.

  "Why, Graham Wylie! Not the Dunns at all. Just Jimmy! And he's doing sowell and looks as nice as any boy."

  "And she says she's going to have her Sunday school class, one and all."

  "Well, I should think so. I've taught those girls ever since they cameout of the infant room, and they're darlings. And it would break theirhearts if I were married and they weren't there to see."

  Now that her college life was over, Peggy had thrown herself joyouslyinto her planning for the next thing. Ruth, as Graham's sister, was tobe the maid of honor, Priscilla and Amy bridesmaids. They decided ontheir gowns after hours and hours of delicious deliberation. For aJuly wedding, organdie was the thing--the sheerest pale pink organdie,with pink roses to match on their wide hats. "You'll be dreams," Peggydeclared ecstatically. "Everybody'll say so."

  "Nonsense!" scoffed Amy, "As if people at a wedding ever looked atanybody but the bride!"

  "I had a letter from Alice, yesterday," exclaimed Peggy, changing thesubject. "She thinks little Irma had better be the flower-girl insteadof Dorothy. She says Dorothy has been shooting up so fast lately,that now she's lanky and self-conscious, and that Irma is plump andadorable. I only hope dear little Dorothy won't feel left out. Thatwould spoil everything."

  Robert Carey was to be Graham's best man, a decision which pleasedPeggy immensely. Most of the ushers were young men the girls knewmore or less, though Graham had included in the number a comparativenew-comer at the office, Kennedy by name, with whom he was onespecially friendly terms. "You ought to bring him out some evening,"suggested Peggy, "and not wait till just before the wedding tointroduce him."

  "No, that's right. I'll ask him to-morrow to set a time."

  When Graham appeared shortly after dinner the following evening, Peggyand Priscilla were addressing invitations. Graham seated himself lazilyin the arm chair and congratulated them on their industry. "Have youaddressed all that pile to-day?"

  "Yes, sir. We've been working ever since I got back from thedressmaker's, about four o'clock. Priscilla stayed to dinner so as notto lose any time."

  There was a brief silence. Two pairs of pens scratched busily whileGraham entertained himself by watching the anxious pucker of Peggy'smouth as she wrote each new address. "By the way," he remarked, "He'scoming out to-night."

  "Who is?"

  "Kennedy."

  The scratching of the pens came to an abrupt stop. "Priscilla," Peggycried in tones of horror, "Graham has asked that Mr. Kennedy to calland he's coming this evening."

  "You told me to ask him," Graham defended himself.

  "Of course, I want him to come. But I don't want him to descend on mewithout warning, and get the impression that you are going to marry afrump."

  "Why, I was just thinking how nice you looked--both of you," Grahamdeclared, kindly including Priscilla, who scorned to acknowledge thecompliment. She rose, returned her pen to the writing desk, and saidbriefly, "I'm off."

  "Put on your glad rags and come back, Priscilla," begged Peggy, whoalso was making preparations for a retreat.

  "Oh, I think not. Mr. Kennedy isn't coming to see me."

  "It'll be ever so much nicer if he meets some of you before the lastminute. Ruth says she's got to put in this evening letter writing, andAmy and Bob are going somewhere."

  "Oh, very well. I'll be back after a little." Priscilla spokenonchalantly, but as a matter of fact, she was glad of Peggy'sinsistence. Now that the time was growing so short, she grudged everyhour she was away from her friend. As she left by the door, Peggy ranup the stairs, leaving Graham to the companionship of his own agreeableanticipations.

  Peggy was back in about twenty minutes, looking, in Graham'sestimation, very much the same, except that her dress was a lighterblue than the other, and her hair, having been freshly combed, did notshow as much of the curl. He expressed his opinion and Peggy smiledtolerantly.

  "I wore that old thing because a drop of ink more or less wouldn'tmatter. It's as old as the hills, and I made it when I didn't know asmuch about dress-making as I do now. Of course I like to have you thinkI look nice, no matter what I wear, but now you're going to be married,you'd better learn more discrimination in regard to clothes. It wouldbe dreadful to have a new dress and you not able to see that it was anyprettier than the old one."

  "Very well. Suppose you start on my education right away. Tell me thefine points about the rig you've got on." But before Peggy couldbegin, the bell rang, and Graham's education was left incomplete forthe time being.

  Mr. Kennedy was a slender, pleasant-mannered young man, who lookedconsiderably older than Graham, partly perhaps, because he woreeye-glasses. As Peggy greeted him, she was conscious of somethinghauntingly familiar in his face. "I haven't met you before, have I?"she asked.

  "It hardly seems that I could have met you and not remember it," saidyoung Kennedy gallantly. "I'm very sure I've seen you before, however."

  "And I believe I've seen you, but I don't know where."

  "Hitchcock would say," remarked Graham, "that probably you had beenwell acquainted in Nineveh or Babylon or some other ancient burg."

  Mr. Kennedy smiled, and took the chair Graham had pulled forward forhim. "Who's Hitchcock?" he asked.

  "Oh, a nut that Peggy used to have here till I told her she'd have tochoose between us."

  "Graham, what a misleading thing to say."

  "Well, it might give the wrong impression, I confess. Peggy didn't caremuch about him herself, but one of her friends had a case on him."

  "Sh!" warned Peggy, in an agony as she heard Priscilla's footstepsoutside. She filled the somewhat awkward pause by springing to herfeet, crying as she ran to the door, "You needn't ring; I hear you."

  The results of the half hour Priscilla had given to vanity weremore evident, Graham thought, than in Peggy's case. Peggy could bedisheveled and still irresistible. Priscilla's rather stately beautywas more exacting in its demands. In her dress of pale green voile,which set off her clear pallor and the beauty of her smooth, dark hair,she looked the incarnate spirit of spring. Even Graham stared.

  Peggy, her arm slipped caressingly through Priscilla's, led herforward. "Priscilla, this is Graham's friend, Mr. Kennedy. Miss Combs--"

  Peggy stopped short. Priscilla had jumped. Mr. Kennedy's conventionalsmile had changed to startled recognition. "Why, you know each other,"Peggy cried.

  "Only--why, surely, Peggy, you remember."

  Peggy's vague, irritating certainty of something familiar in Mr.Kennedy's face was suddenly transformed to recollection. "Oh, ofcourse. The Green Parrot."

  "Oh, of course! The Green Parrot!" mocked Graham, who had risen onPriscilla's entrance, and now stood looking from one to another of thetrio. "Makes it perfectly clear."

  They took their seats, and Peggy explained, helped out by suggestionsfrom the others. As they recalled the absurd experience, the threenarrators went off into fits of laughter, but the audience maintained
adignified calm.

  "Take my word for it, John, it's an inscrutable sex. Now, I would havesworn that this young woman hadn't a thought I didn't share, and lookwhat she's been keeping from me, lo! these many months. When we'realone I shall expect you to give me a full account of what reallyhappened."

  For some reason the discovery that Graham's friend, Kennedy, was theyoung man whose coffee cup had been invaded by Priscilla's roll seemedto put him at once on the footing of an old acquaintance. They had avery jolly evening, and it was not till after ten that Priscilla said,"Graham, I think you'd better take me home, now. I've got a busy daybefore me."

  "You have indeed, poor dear," Peggy cried. "I expect you to finishaddressing those invitations and do any number of errands. These aretrying times for my friends, Mr. Kennedy. They have hardly a minute inthe twenty-four hours that they can call their own."

  The young man smiled at her in the abstracted fashion of one whosethoughts are on something else. "Won't you let me be your escort?" heasked Priscilla. "It would give me the greatest pleasure."

  "Thanks, but it's only a step, and my going early won't break upGraham's evening, for he'll come directly back." She softened herrefusal by giving him her hand and saying pleasantly, "I'm glad to havemet you properly at last, with a real introduction, you know."

  "I shall look forward to the next time," said young Kennedy, withrather more ardor than conventional courtesy required. "This is ourthird meeting, I believe."

  "Third?" exclaimed Peggy, pricking up her ears. "Why, when was thesecond?"

  "At one of the football games last fall," explained Priscilla. "I wasthere with Horace Hitchcock, and Mr. Kennedy sat next me." And thenrecalling the suspicious glances Horace had shot in the direction ofthe guiltless Mr. Kennedy, Priscilla began to blush. The worst ofblushing is that it is much easier to start it than to call a halt.There were innumerable things connected with the thought of Horace thatmade Priscilla uncomfortable, and now she found herself blushing forthem all. The tide of color flooded her smooth forehead and dyed herthroat. Peggy's observant eyes detected an unmistakable shadow on Mr.Kennedy's erst-while radiant face.

  Later, when Graham and herself were alone, she scolded him a little."You oughtn't to have said that a friend of mine had a case onHitchcock. Now Mr. Kennedy knows you meant Priscilla."

  "Well, is that such a tragedy?"

  "Couldn't you mention to him some day that Horace did admire Priscilla,but that now he's safely married to another. You could bring it in in acasual way, you know."

  Graham looked at her hard. "My dear Peggy," he said, "Just becauseyou yourself have been fortunate--unusually fortunate I might say--inyour love affairs, don't let that lead you into trying your hand atmatchmaking. Fooling with high explosives is child's play compared tothat, believe me."

  But instead of seeming impressed by the warning, Peggy only answereddreamily, "When he doesn't see Horace at the wedding, he'll probablybegin to suspect that it's ancient history. If only Priscilla couldlearn to speak of him without blushing."