CHAPTER XXI
A MISSING BRIDE
IT was two days before Peggy's wedding, and in the front roomdownstairs Peggy was looking around complacently on her weddingpresents. They were very much like the wedding presents of otherprospective brides. A few were admirably suited to the needs of a youngcouple of moderate means, about to start house-keeping. Others wouldhave been useful in the establishments of wealthy people who expectedto do a great deal of entertaining. And there were still others whoseuse was problematical, anywhere and under any circumstances.
Peggy's mood, however, was far from critical. Each gift as it camehad given her the keenest pleasure, and if it were impossible to findanything admirable in the article itself, she could always say, "Howawfully kind of them to send it. Everybody's being perfectly dear tome." She approached every newly arrived package with the same feelingwith which she had once taken up a bulging Christmas stocking.
The clock in the dining room, a pert little timepiece with a peremptoryvoice, struck three. It was characteristic of this particularclock always to strike the hour as if it were reminding somebodyof something. On this occasion it reminded Peggy that she had anengagement with the dressmaker at half past three, and that she was tocall for Ruth, who had promised to accompany her. As it was impossibleto take along a crowd of girls to the dressmaker's rather crampedquarters, Peggy avoided hard feeling by inviting a different girl eachday.
Peggy had hardly reached the top of the stairs when the bell rang,and Sally came rushing from the kitchen to answer it. The prospect ofa wedding in the family had so excited Sally that she was even lessresponsible for her conduct than usual. Almost the only thing she couldbe trusted to do was to answer the door-bell, but as the bell rang veryoften, she succeeded in making herself rather useful. On this occasiona swarthy woman stood outside, and in a quick, parrot-like fashionsaid something Sally did not understand.
"You want to see Miss Peggy?" Sally demanded. Such wits as shepossessed were not on duty, for ordinarily she would have recognizedthe stranger's errand, and sent her about her business. As the womannodded, Sally at once admitted her, showing her into the room where thewedding presents stood about in picturesque confusion.
"Miss Peggy," shrieked Sally, forgetting for the moment the lessonimpressed on her on innumerable occasions that she was not to save hersteps by calling up the stairs, "Somebody to see you."
It was a minute or two before Peggy came down, and Sally had retreatedto the kitchen in the meantime. Peggy who had naturally expected to seean acquaintance, was rather startled to be confronted by a dark-skinnedwoman with jet black eyes and an oily voice.
"Buy lace, lady? Very cheap: three inch wide up to nine inch. Verycheap!"
Peggy replied politely that she did not care for any lace, reflectingas she spoke that had the woman presented herself a few monthsearlier, she might have thought it worth while to examine her stock.Having had some experience in the persistence of her kind, she wassurprised when the dark woman took her refusal as final, and meekly letherself out. Peggy stepped into the kitchen to warn Sally against herlate indiscretion, and came back through the hall, reflecting that shemust hurry, since the dressmaker did not like to be kept waiting. Asshe passed the open door of the room the vender of lace had so latelyquitted, she stopped and stood transfixed.
One of her wedding presents was missing. She knew exactly the placewhere it had stood on the center table, flanked on one side by a pairof book-ends, and on the other by a cloisonne vase. The gap left byits removal was as obvious to Peggy's startled eyes as the breach in asmile, due to a missing tooth. Instantly she understood that there wasno mystery about its disappearance. She had seen it not ten minutesbefore, and the only person who had entered the room since then was thewoman with lace to sell.
The discovery went to Peggy's head. The stealing of any of her otherpossessions would not have affected her in just the same way. But thesewere her wedding presents, invested with a certain sanctity becauseof the goodwill they represented, and the occasion which led to theirbestowal. It never once occurred to Peggy that she could submit to suchan outrage.
She ran out of the house, looking up and down the street, andimmediately caught sight of the woman she wanted. Apparently she hadsuspended business for the day, for she was walking, rapidly and makingno attempt to dispose of her wares in any of the houses she passed.Peggy promptly started in pursuit. Her idea was to follow the woman,keeping her in sight until she could encounter a policeman. Peggyhad no desire to deprive any human creature, however erring, of herliberty. She hoped the officer of the law would force the surrender ofher ill-gotten gains without formally arresting her. But whatever theconsequences, she meant to recover her property.
According to the calendar it was the last day of June, but thethermometer proclaimed it mid-July. The heated air quivered. Thestreets seemed as silent as the thoroughfares of a deserted village.A block from Peggy's home, the woman took the right-hand turning andwent down Rossiter Street. Peggy followed, walking rapidly in herdetermination to gain on the quick-walking figure on ahead.
Three blocks on Rossiter Street, and then the woman turned north,giving Peggy a clew to her plan. Friendly Terrace lay near theoutskirts of the city. A walk of a mile from Peggy's home brought oneinto a section sparsely settled. It looked as though Peggy's quarrywere making for the open country.
Oh, for a policeman! Peggy rather unjustly resented the scarcity ofofficers of the law, forgetting how seldom their services were requiredin the law-abiding part of town. She discovered, too, that the womanpursued was uncannily aware of her pursuer. Though apparently shenever looked back, she accommodated her pace to Peggy's, acceleratingher speed, as Peggy quickened hers, so that the distance between themremained about the same in spite of Peggy's efforts to lessen it.
Owing to the lack of policemen, had any reliable looking man passedher in a car, Peggy believed herself capable of stopping him andcommandeering his services. But apparently the heat had driven everyone indoors. Two or three delivery wagons passed with small boyshandling the reins. One machine glided by, but the driver was a woman.After an hour's chase the two participants in the singular game of"Follow my Leader," came out upon the turnpike, stretching away tothe north, white and dusty and hot in the brilliant sun. Here thehouses were scattered and stood back from the road. The likelihood ofencountering a policeman had become extremely faint. But Peggy set herteeth and pressed forward.
Graham got off half an hour early this particular afternoon, andreached Peggy's a little before five. Irma, dimpled and sweet, areplica of Dorothy a few years earlier, rushed to meet him squealingwith delight, while Dorothy smiled a welcome, her lips pinched tightlytogether. One of Dorothy's upper front teeth was missing and Dorothywas painfully conscious of the lack every minute that she was awake.
Graham kissed his prospective nieces, greeted the older members of thefamily cordially, if less effusively, and put the inevitable question,"Where's Peggy?"
"Oh, at the dressmaker's of course," sighed Mrs. Raymond. "I hope shewon't keep the poor child very long. It's so dreadfully warm."
The telephone tinkled, and Dick went to answer it. He scowled as helistened. "Who did you say it was? Oh, wait a minute!" He turned to hismother. "I thought you said Peggy had gone to the dressmaker's."
"She has. She had a fitting at half past three."
"Well, this is the dressmaker, and she says Peggy hasn't come."
"Let me speak to her." Mrs. Raymond crossed to the phone, with an airof expecting to clear up the puzzle immediately. And hardly had shemade herself known, when the door opened and Ruth appeared. "What'sbecome of Peggy? She was to call for me a little after three, and I'vehad my hat on waiting for her nearly two hours."
What had become of Peggy? She had not kept her engagement with thedressmaker, and Ruth knew nothing of her whereabouts. Mrs. Raymondcalled up Priscilla and Amy, each of whom disavowed having seen Peggysince noon. And then as there seemed nothing better to do, she went oncalling nei
ghbors and friends and trades-people, growing more and morepuzzled, moment by moment. For no one had seen Peggy.
It finally occurred to Peggy's sister, Alice, to make inquiries in thekitchen. Sally informed her that Miss Peggy had come into the kitchenwith her hat on, and had said something about the dressmaker. The newgirl, who had been engaged to help out for the few weeks before thewedding, confirmed Sally's story, adding that it was a little afterthree when Peggy left the house. Obviously Peggy had started out withthe intention of keeping her appointment, and obviously she had notdone so.
Dinner was ready at six o'clock, but no one was ready for dinner.Peggy's failure to appear at meal-time added to the generalconsternation. Peggy was by nature prompt and methodical, and she hadacted the role of cook too often not to realize how the best efforts ofthat important functionary are frustrated by late arrivals. At quarterpast six Mr. Raymond went to the telephone and called up the hospitalsone after another. But the hot sleepy day had not been productive ofautomobile accidents, and the only cases of sun-strokes reported wereelderly people, four men and one old woman.
Graham was very pale. A dreadful suspicion was taking shape in hismind. Could it be that, as the second of July drew near, Peggy hadfound herself unable to face the situation? Perhaps he had asked toomuch of her when he had urged her accompanying him to South America.He thought of the innumerable ties that bound her to her native land,and yet he had assumed that she would be ready to leave everything andevery one she loved, and go with him to a land of strangers. Grahamwas no more troubled by excessive humility than other popular youngmen, but in the present emergency he seemed to himself to have put amost preposterous estimate on the value of his own society. He had ahorrible conviction that, through his demanding too much, Peggy waslost to him forever.
It hardly need be said that no one in the anxious company shared thisparticular apprehension. At seven o'clock Peggy's father made up hismind that it would be necessary to appeal to the police. But before hecould bring himself to act on this conviction, the gate clicked andIrma, standing at the window, her nose flattened against the screen,exploded in a series of joyful shrieks.
"Aunt Peggy! Aunt Peggy! Oh, it's Aunt Peggy!"
And Peggy it was, though it took a second glance to be sure. Theperspiration trickling over her dusty face had produced a curiouspiebald effect, and she walked with a noticeable limp. They rushed tothe door, greeting her with mingled cries of joy and reproach. All butGraham. He sat down in the darkest corner of the living room and puthis hands over his face. The intensity of his relief was almost toomuch for him.
Peggy limped in, looking decidedly ashamed of herself.
"Have you waited dinner for me? I'm awfully sorry."
"Waited dinner," repeated Mrs. Raymond, and burst into tears. Peggy'ssister Alice caught her by the shoulders and gave her a sharp littleshake.
"Peggy Raymond, where have you been and what have you been doing? Don'tyou understand that we've been frightened to death about you?"
Peggy dropped into the nearest chair and began on her story. She toldof the woman Sally had admitted to the house, the missing weddingpresent, and the purpose with which she had started in pursuit. Theyall listened breathlessly, Graham left his corner and stood back of theothers, unwilling to miss a word.
It was not till Peggy's recital brought her to the turnpike that shelost a little of her fluency. At this point she hesitated and seemedto appreciate the difficulty of making matters clear to her audience."Of course I should have given up then. But somehow I couldn't. I kepthoping that somebody would appear, and it seemed such a shame when I'dfollowed that thief so far, to give up and go back. I'd made up my mindthat as soon as an automobile came along, I'd ask for a lift. I felt ifI could only catch up with her I could frighten her into giving me whatbelonged to me. But nobody passed me, and then when she got to the oldtoll-gate--"
Mr. Raymond interrupted, "You don't mean you followed her to the tollgate?"
"Yes, father. Or at least I was almost there. You know there's across-road just beyond the gate, and a Ford car came up that cross-roadand turned north on the pike. And the woman stopped it--"
"Confederates, I'll bet," cried Dick.
"No, it looked as if she were just asking some stranger for a ride. Andas far as they knew she was only a tired woman carrying a bag and theytook her in. And then I saw it wasn't any use to go further."
"You surprise me." Mr. Raymond's voice was satirical. "I can'tunderstand why you didn't run after the machine."
Peggy accepted the sarcastic rejoinder meekly. "Then I turned aroundand came home. But you see I had put on my new brown shoes becauseMrs. Morley wanted to fit my brown dress with the shoes I was going towear with it, and all at once they began to hurt me terribly. Insteadof hurrying I had to slow up, and sometimes I had to stop and wait. Inever had anything hurt so."
"If you'd walked three blocks east," exclaimed Graham, speaking for thefirst time, "you could have got a car."
"I knew it, but I'd come off without my pocket book. I didn't have apenny with me. That was the reason I didn't telephone."
Peggy looked about her with a crestfallen air. While she was far fromrealizing the extent of the alarm her family had felt, and would nothave believed Graham had he told her of the apprehensions that hadtortured him through the terrible time of waiting, she understood thatthey had all been worried and that she had inconvenienced every one bymaking dinner late. "Don't wait for me any longer," she pleaded. "Havethe dinner put on, mother, and I'll be down as soon as I've washed up alittle."
Mrs. Raymond put her arm about her. "Yes, come upstairs, darling. Youmust have something on those blisters right away. Alice, tell Sally toput on plates for Ruth and Graham."
It was while they were eating lamb chops, which after an hour and ahalf in the warming oven might as well have been anything else, thatsome one thought to put the question Peggy had been dreading. "Do youknow what present she stole?"
Peggy took a hasty sip of her iced tea and looked appealingly at herquestioner. But her reluctant manner only aroused the curiosity ofevery one.
"I'll bet it was the silver teapot," exclaimed Dick.
"It doesn't matter what's missing, as long as Peggy herself is heresafe and sound," declared Mrs. Raymond fervently.
"But what _did_ she take?" insisted Alice, eyeing her sister withsuspicion.
Again Peggy forfeited herself with iced tea, and her cheeks, flushedby heat and weariness, took on a deeper hue. "It--it really wasn'tso valuable,--" stammered Peggy. "You know Elvira Bond gave me halfa dozen teaspoons that she got by saving soap wrappers or something.They came in a neat little case, and I suppose the woman snatched thenearest thing without looking. I didn't chase her because the spoonswere worth so much because--well, it was the principle of the thing."
There was a long moment of silence, and then a roar of laughter. Theylaughed long and helplessly and wiped their eyes and started all overagain. As a rule Peggy could appreciate a joke, even if it was againstherself, but on this occasion a rather wry smile was the best she coulddo. She was beginning to realize that she had been very silly.
"Well, Graham," remarked Mr. Raymond when he could make himself heard,"In my opinion you're assuming quite a responsibility in planning totake this young woman to South America."
Graham's eyes met Peggy's and something in his look arrested herattention, a peculiar radiance as if he had just heard a wonderfulpiece of news. But all he said was, "I'm ready to take the risk, sir."
Peggy Raymond's Way; Or, Blossom Time at Friendly Terrace Page 21