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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:17:05 -0700 |
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diff --git a/25448-h/25448-h.htm b/25448-h/25448-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cbd2767 --- /dev/null +++ b/25448-h/25448-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9214 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Peggy, by Laura E. Richards. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -1em; margin-left: 1em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Peggy, by Laura E. Richards + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Peggy + +Author: Laura E. Richards + +Illustrator: Etheldred B. Barry + +Release Date: May 12, 2008 [EBook #25448] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEGGY *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 270px;"> +<img src="images/cover01.jpg" width="270" height="400" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<h1>PEGGY</h1> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> + + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><div class='bbox'> +<h2><span style='u'><i> Books by Laura E. Richards. </i></span></h2> + + +<p>"Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary +world, from her delicate treatment of New England village life."—<i>Boston +Post.</i></p> +<div class='center'>——————<br /> +<br /> +<b><big>THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES.</big></b></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>CAPTAIN JANUARY.</b> 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.</div> + +<p>A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been +very remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells +others, and so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day +it is selling by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its +delighted admirers.</p> + +<div class='hang1'><b>SAME.</b> <i>Illustrated Holiday Edition.</i> With thirty half-tone pictures +from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>MELODY.</b> The Story of a Child. 16mo, 50 cents.</div> + +<p>"Had there never been a 'Captain January,' 'Melody' would easily +take first place."—<i>Boston Times.</i><br /><br /></p> + +<div class='hang1'><b>SAME.</b> <i>Illustrated Holiday Edition.</i> With thirty half-tone pictures +from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>MARIE.</b> 16mo, 50 cents.</div> + +<p>"Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or +framed one with more artistic literary adjustment."—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + +<p>"A perfect literary gem."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i><br /><br /></p> + +<div class='hang1'><b>NARCISSA</b>, and a companion story, <b>IN VERONA</b>. 16mo, cloth, +50 cents.</div> + +<p>"Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England +life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing for its +unaffected genuineness and human feeling."—<i>Congregationalist.</i><br /><br /></p> + +<div class='hang1'><b>JIM OF HELLAS; or, IN DURANCE VILE</b>, and a companion +story, <b>BETHESDA POOL</b>. 16mo, 50 cents.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>SOME SAY</b>, and a companion story, <b>NEIGHBOURS IN CYRUS</b>. +16mo, 50 cents.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>ROSIN THE BEAU.</b> 16mo, 50 cents. A sequel to "Melody."</div> + +<div class='center'>——————<br /></div> +<div class='hang1'><b>ISLA HERON.</b> A charming prose idyl of quaint New England life. +Small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>NAUTILUS.</b> A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely +bound, small quarto, cloth, 75 cents.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>FIVE MINUTE STORIES.</b> A charming collection of short stories +and clever poems for children. Small quarto, cloth, $1.25.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>THREE MARGARETS.</b> One of the most clever stories for girls +that the author has written. 16mo, cloth, handsome cover design, +$1.25.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>MARGARET MONTFORT.</b> The second volume in the series of +which "Three Margarets" was so successful as the initial volume. +16mo, cloth, handsome cover design, $1.25.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>PEGGY.</b> The third volume in the series of which the preceding ones +have been so successful. 16mo, cloth, handsome cover design, $1.25.<br /><br /></div> + +<div class='hang1'><b>LOVE AND ROCKS.</b> A charming story of one of the pleasant +islands that dot the rugged Maine coast. With etching frontispiece +by Mercier. Tall 16mo, unique cover design on linen, gilt top, $1.00.<br /></div> +<div class='center'>—————————————————<br /> +<i>Dana Estes & Company, Publishers, Boston.</i></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 265px;"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<img src="images/gs01.png" width="265" height="400" alt=""PEACE BE TO THIS DWELLING"" title=""PEACE BE TO THIS DWELLING"" /> +<span class="caption">"PEACE BE TO THIS DWELLING"</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<h1>PEGGY</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>LAURA E. RICHARDS</h2> + +<div class='center'>AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY,"<br /> +"QUEEN HILDEGARDE," ETC.<br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +<br />Illustrated by<br /> +ETHELDRED B. BARRY<br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 202px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.png" width="202" height="250" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +BOSTON<br /> +DANA ESTES & COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHERS<br /></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<i><small>Copyright, 1899</small></i><br /> +<span class="smcap"><small>By Dana Estes & Company</small></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /><br /><br /> +<b><small>Colonial Press:</small></b><br /> +<small>Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.</small><br /> +<small>Boston, Mass., U. S. A.</small><br /></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td align='left'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A New World</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Box From Fernley</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the "Gym."</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Enter the Scapegoat</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">To the Rescue</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Owl's Nest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wedding Bells</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">By Moonlight</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_141">141</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Faculty Meeting and Bedlam</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Teacher and Pupil</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Decoration—and Other Things</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">An Adventure</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Peggy Victrix</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">On Spy Hill</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">What Was the Matter With Lobelia Parkins?</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Terror by Night</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_268">268</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Waiting</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The End and the Beginning</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_297">297</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustratins"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"'Peace be to this dwelling'"</span> (<a href="#Page_79">p. 79</a>)</td><td align='left'><i><a href="#frontis">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"'Bertha, look at this, will you?'"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"Up they went, hand over hand."</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Grand Tell in the Owl's Nest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"'Here! Take my hand and scramble out'"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"With one of her sudden movements she had thrown off her assailants"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"'Oh, Grace, she has fainted!'"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">"'We four against the world!'"</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td></tr> +</table></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> +<h2>PEGGY.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>A NEW WORLD.</h3> + + +<p>"Miss Montfort!" said the Principal.</p> + +<p>Peggy looked about her.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if it's another cousin!" she +said to herself. "It can't be, or Margaret +would have known. Dear Margaret! now +if she were only here, she could answer, and +everybody would—"</p> + +<p>"Miss Montfort!" said the Principal again, +rather sharply.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that your name?" whispered the girl +who sat beside Peggy. "You'll have to answer, +you know!"</p> + +<p>Peggy started violently, and, looking up, +met the Principal's eyes bent upon her. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +struggled to her feet, feeling herself one +blush from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"I—I beg your pardon!" she faltered. +"I didn't suppose—did you mean me?"</p> + +<p>"You are Miss Montfort, are you not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! my cousins are both—that is,—I +am just Peggy!"</p> + +<p>There was a general titter, which the Principal +checked with her pencil. "Young ladies!" +she said in a warning tone. "Miss +Montfort, you will have room No. 18, in the +second corridor. You will be alone for the +present."</p> + +<p>"Oh, goody!" cried Peggy. "I mean—I'm +ever so much obliged, thank you! Can +I go now?"</p> + +<p>"You <i>may</i> go now!" said the Principal, +with a slight emphasis on the auxiliary.</p> + +<p>Peggy stumbled over the foot of the girl +next her, stepped on her own dress, tripped +and came to her knees; picked herself up, +with a sound of rending cloth, and finally +got out of the room. This time the titter +was not so easily checked. Peggy heard it +rippling behind her as she fled. Even Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +Russell smiled as she rapped on the desk, and +said one word to herself: "Untrained!"</p> + +<p>But the girl who had sat beside Peggy +rubbed her foot, which hurt a good deal, and +said three words: "Poor little thing!"</p> + +<p>No. 18 in the second corridor was a good-sized +room, with two windows, one of them +crossed on the outside by a fire-escape. Its +present aspect was bare and unhomelike. +The furniture consisted of an iron bedstead, +a bureau and wash-stand, two chairs and a +small table, all neat, but severely plain. The +small square of carpet on the floor was a +cold gray mixture with brown flowers on it. +As Peggy Montfort looked about her, her +heart sank. Was she to live here, to spend +her days and nights here, for a whole endless +year? She thought of her room at home, +the great sunny room that she shared with +her sister Jean. That had four windows, +which were generally flung wide open; it +was bare, because she and Jean liked to +have plenty of space for gymnastics and +wrestling; but that was a homelike, accustomed +bareness, and they loved it. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +great old four-post bed, with the round balls +on which they loved to stand and perform +circus tricks; the hammock slung across one +end; the birds' nests and hawks' wings that +adorned the walls in lieu of pictures; the +antlers on which they hung their hats,—all +these, or the thought of them, smote Peggy's +stout heart, and sent it lower and lower down.</p> + +<p>A maid knocked at the door: here was +Miss Montfort's trunk, and would she unpack +it, please, as the man would be coming again +to take the empty trunks to the attic.</p> + +<p>Peggy fell to work with ardour; here, at +least, was something to do, in this strange, +lonesome place. Arriving in the afternoon, a +day or two after the beginning of school, her +lessons were not to begin till the next morning.</p> + +<p>Every dress, as she lifted it out, seemed a +bit of home. Here was the triangular tear +in her blue gingham, that Jean mended for +her. One could hardly see it now! Dear +Jean! she was neat-handed, and she had a +little look of Margaret, the same soft hair +and clear, quiet eyes. Here was her beloved +bicycle skirt! Ah, there was something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +heavy in the pocket. Peggy explored, and +drew forth an apple; that brought the tears, +which were not very far off in the first place, +and there was a good deal of salt in the +apple as she ate it. She was so determined +to make the best of everything, however, +that she fought back the homesickness that +was rising like a flood within her, and even +managed to whistle a tune as she hung up +her dresses and laid her stockings and handkerchiefs +in the drawers. Then the shoe-bag +must be hung against the closet door, the bag +that Margaret had made and worked with +her initials. Dearest Margaret! and here +was the pincushion that Flora gave her, and +the writing-case from Brother Hugh— Oh! +she would write to him every week of her +life, indeed she would! and so on and so on.</p> + +<p>When the trunk was empty, the room +looked less forlorn, though still pretty bare, +for in Peggy's home little thought was given +to anything not of practical use. The door +was open, and happening to look up she +caught a glimpse of the opposite room, on +the other side of the narrow corridor. Here,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +too, the door stood open, and Peggy gazed open-eyed. +A greater contrast could hardly be +imagined. Here every available inch of wall-space +was covered, with photographs, with +Japanese fans and umbrellas, with posters +and ribbons and flags. The room itself was +choked, it seemed to Peggy, with chairs and +tables, low tables covered with books, with +cups and saucers, with knickknacks of every +possible description. The whole effect was +bewildering, but so gay and cheerful that +Peggy sighed as she glanced back at her own +bare white walls, at the bureau with its sober +brush and comb, and the polished table where +the writing-case lay in solitary state. She +could not imagine living in a room like that +other: she should stifle, and throw half the +things out of the window; but it would be +nice to have just a few more things! If she +had only thought! Jean would have been +glad to share the nests with her, and she +could have had the rattlesnake skin, for had +she not killed him herself? and then there +were the fossils!</p> + +<p>As Peggy meditated, steps came along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +corridor, and halted at her door. A face +peeped in. "May I come in?" asked the +girl who had sat beside her in the class-room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do! I wish you would!" cried Peggy, +eagerly. "I am so glad to see you! Sit +down! I wanted to tell you—you were awfully +kind to let me know she meant me. +You see, I never was called Miss Montfort +in my life before."</p> + +<p>The girl sat down, and looked kindly at +Peggy. She was a singular-looking girl, +short and dark, with a curious effect of +squareness in her thickset figure. Her face +was plain, but one forgot that when one met +the bright, intelligent gaze of her dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"I ought to introduce myself!" she said. +"My name is Bertha Haughton. I'm a +neighbour of yours. No!" she added, laughing, +as Peggy glanced involuntarily across the +way. "That is Vanity Fair. I don't live +there; I live in the Owls' Nest, some way +down the corridor."</p> + +<p>"Are all the rooms named?" asked Peggy, +wondering.</p> + +<p>"Most of them, on this corridor, at least.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +There's Vanity Fair and Rag Fair and the +Smithsonian Institute on the other side—oh! +and the China Shop and the Corner Grocery, +too. And on this side is ours, the Owls' +Nest, and Bedlam, and the Soap Factory, and +the Nursery, and this room of yours."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how interesting!" cried Peggy. "Do +tell me what the names mean! Why Owls' +Nest?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, we got the name of studying +hard, that's all. We don't study harder than +ever so many others, but in our freshman +year we—my chum and I—passed an examination +that a good many failed in, and so +we got the name of owls. That's really all! +And the China Shop—well! Ada Bull had +it last year, and she had a mania for china-painting; +and that with the name, together, +you see! Then there is the Soap Factory,—that +is quite a story! you really want to hear +it? well!</p> + +<p>"You know we are not allowed to buy +candy, or to have it sent to us. This girl's +mother—I won't tell her name, she's in +college now—was a very silly person, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +she sent her a great box of chocolate, five or +six pounds (though she knew the rules, mind +you!), all done up like soap."</p> + +<p>"Like soap!" repeated Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Yes! the box was marked soap, and the +chocolate was in little cakes, just like the little +sample cakes of soap they send round, don't +you know? and each cake wrapped up in +paper, with '<i>Savon de Chocolat</i>' stamped on +it. It came from Paris, I believe.</p> + +<p>"Well, of course the girl ought to have +told Miss Russell at once, but she didn't. +She kept the box under her bed, and told all +the girls she knew; and of course they kept +coming into her room all day long, and her +pocket was always full, and, however it happened, +at last Miss Russell suspected something. +One day she came suddenly upon +Margie in the hall, and saw that she was +eating something, and asked her what it was. +We're not allowed to eat going about the +house, of course. Margie had just bitten off +half a cake, and she had the other half in +her hand, with the printed side up, '<i>Savon +de Chocolat!</i>' and she said 'Soap!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Soap!' said Miss Russell.</p> + +<p>"'Yes!' said Margie. 'Soap, Miss Russell.'</p> + +<p>"The Principal looked at her a minute, and +then I suppose she smelt the chocolate. She +told her to wait, and then she went into her +own room and came out with a little cake of +tar soap—sample cake—that looked for all +the world like chocolate soap.</p> + +<p>"'Pray try this!' she said, as grave as a +judge. 'I am sure you will find it excellent. +I must insist upon your trying it, since you +have a taste for soap.'</p> + +<p>"Poor Margie! she had a good deal of +pluck, and when she saw there was no help +for it, she took a bite of the soap. But +it was too horrid; she couldn't swallow it. +She choked, and ran to her own room; the +Principal followed her, and then the whole +story came out. Margie never told us just +what Miss Russell said. The chocolate was +sent to the Orphans' Home next day, and she +was a pretty serious girl for some time after. +So now you know why that room is called the +Soap Factory."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's a splendid story!" cried Peggy. +"Why, I think this is great. Did this room +have a name, too? I'm sure it must have! +Do tell me what it is!"</p> + +<p>A queer look crossed the dark girl's face.</p> + +<p>"It has been called Broadway!" she said. +"I hope it may be changed now." She hesitated, +and was about to speak again, when +two girls came along arm in arm.</p> + +<p>"Look!" said Bertha Haughton. "There +are your opposite neighbours, Vanity and Vexation +of Spirit. I'll call them over and +introduce them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please don't!" cried Peggy, under +her breath, catching her companion's arm. +But it was too late.</p> + +<p>"V. V.," called Bertha, in her clear, hearty +voice, "come and be introduced to Miss +Montfort."</p> + +<p>The girls turned and came forward, one +eagerly, the other rather unwillingly.</p> + +<p>"Miss Viola Vincent, Miss Vivia Varnham," +said Bertha Haughton, "this is Miss—Peggy, +did you say?—Miss Peggy Montfort."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Varnham simply bowed, but Viola +Vincent advanced with outstretched hand.</p> + +<p>"How do you <i>do?</i>" she cried; and she +lifted Peggy's hand to the level of her chin, +and shook it gently from side to side. "Awfully +glad to see you! It's been too perfectly +horrid to have this room empty; hasn't it, +V?"</p> + +<p>"A great bore!" assented Miss Varnham, +who looked thoroughly bored herself.</p> + +<p>Both girls had entered the room, and were +standing, looking about them. Peggy stood, +too, feeling unspeakably shy and awkward, +and not knowing what to say. Bertha +Haughton gave her a quick, friendly glance, +and made a slight motion with her head +toward a chair. Peggy started, and coloured +violently.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon!" she stammered. +"Won't you sit down? here are two chairs; +and you and I can sit on the bed!" she +turned to Miss Haughton with an air of +relief; she seemed already an old friend.</p> + +<p>Peggy's timid glances at the newcomers +showed her that they belonged to a species<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +unknown to her. Living on a great prairie +farm, she had known no girls save her sisters +and the two cousins with whom she had spent +a happy summer at Fernley House, the home +of her uncle, Mr. John Montfort, a year before.</p> + +<p>But neither sisters nor cousins, nor Bertha +Haughton herself, bore any resemblance to the +two young women who now seated themselves +on her two straight-backed chairs. Both were +dressed in the extreme of the fashion, which +was not a specially graceful one. Both +wore their hair elaborately dressed, with a +profusion of gold and silver pins, a passing +fancy easily carried to extravagance. Both +were pretty, and there was even a kind of +likeness between them, though it vanished +when one looked closely. Viola Vincent had +limpid blue eyes, and long lashes which she +had a way of dropping, as she had been told +that they looked well on her cheek, which was +clear and delicately tinted. She smiled a good +deal, and in doing so showed a pretty dimple +in one cheek. In spite of a certain affectation, +Peggy thought her charming.</p> + +<p>Vivia Varnham was less attractive, in spite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +of her bright hazel eyes and pretty fluffy +hair; there was a supercilious lift to her eyebrows, +an unamiable droop to the corners of +her mouth. Peggy did not make this analysis; +she only thought, "I shall not like her, +I know I sha'n't!"</p> + +<p>The girls chattered away without much +regard to her, and she only half understood +their talk.</p> + +<p>"My dear! <i>Have</i> you heard?" This was +from Viola to Bertha Haughton. She patted +herself all over while she talked, now her +hair, now her collar, now her blouse, little +approving pats.</p> + +<p>"You never hear anything, you owls! +When <i>is</i> the Snowy coming back? She has +been away forty years! I simply can't exist +without her. Why, my dear, we are to have +the straw-ride after all. Miss Russell says we +may. Isn't it perf'ly fine?"</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?" said Bertha Haughton, +doubtfully. "You know last time she said +we couldn't go again, because Grace acted so, +pulling out the linch-pin and dropping us all +into the road."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My dear, I know! that's just it! The +Goat went to her this morning and said she +would stay at home and do double lessons if +the rest of us could only go. Noble of the +Goat, I call it; only it won't be half so much +fun without her, and Billy gone, too. Oh, +you can't possibly imagine how we miss Billy. +How forlorn this room looks without all her +pretty things!" She glanced about the room. +"Perf'ly awful, isn't it?" she said.</p> + +<p>Poor Peggy flushed scarlet. Bertha Haughton +flashed her a glance of indignant sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Billy had the room simply ridiculous!" +she said, hastily. "Almost as bad as your +toyshop, Vanity. I can't abide a frippy +room!"</p> + +<p>Viola Vincent opened her blue eyes wide. +"What ruffled you up, Fluffy?" she said. +"I didn't say anything about the Nest." +Then, happening to glance at Peggy, she +realised what she had said, and blushed a +little herself.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I didn't mean anything!" she +cried, with a little giggle. "Of course when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +Miss Montfort gets all her things out and +arranged, it will be quite charming, I'm sure +it will."</p> + +<p>"I haven't any more things!" said honest +Peggy. She managed to keep her voice +steady, but the tears would come into her +eyes, and she raged at herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you'll accumulate them!" said good-natured +Viola, who liked to have people comfortable, +if it did not take too much trouble. +"Won't she, V.? We had hardly anything +when we came, had we, V.? Barns, my dear, +were nothing to us, were they, V.?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course not!" assented Miss Varnham; +but her smile was so like a sneer, and +her glance about the room so cold and contemptuous, +that Peggy felt dislike hardening +at her heart.</p> + +<p>"What is all that noise in the entry?" +exclaimed Bertha Haughton, anxious to +change the conversation. "It sounds as if +an elephant were coming to call."</p> + +<p>Viola Vincent fluttered to the door, patting +her waist affectionately as she went.</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear!</i>" she cried, in high-pitched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +staccato tones. "It's a box, an express box. +Oh, it's a perfect monster, a mammoth! Vi, +this must be your dresses. Hurrah! we'll +have a grand trying on."</p> + +<p>Vivia Varnham looked out. A burly expressman +was staggering forward with an +enormous box, almost as big as a packing-case.</p> + +<p>"Take it in there!" she said, imperiously, +motioning across the corridor. "Put it down +carefully, mind! Miss Varnham, is it?"</p> + +<p>"No, miss," said the man, respectfully. +"Miss Montfort!"</p> + +<p>"Me!" cried Peggy, starting to her feet. +"Oh, there must be some mistake. I wasn't—there's +nothing coming for me."</p> + +<p>"It must be for you!" said Bertha Haughton. +"There is no other Miss Montfort in the +school. Look at the address, and you may +know the handwriting!"</p> + +<p>Peggy looked. In a clear, bold hand was +written:</p> + +<div class='center'> +Miss Peggy Montfort,<br /> +At Miss Russell's School,<br /> +Pentland.<br /> +Glass, with care. All charges paid.<br /></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>"Oh!" she cried, clasping her hands. "It +<i>is</i> for me! It's from Uncle John! Oh, what +do you suppose—what can it be?"</p> + +<p>"Bring it in here, please," said Bertha +Haughton, quietly, to the man, who still +stood balancing the box. "There! set it +against the wall; thank you! Now," as the +man departed, "we need a screw-driver. Have +you one, Viola?"</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear!</i> I had one, but the Goat broke +it, using it for a step, you know, to get up to +the next story. I use a can-opener now, but +that will only do for small boxes. I don't +have—well, State Houses, coming every +day," she added, with a good-natured laugh, +glancing at the great box.</p> + +<p>Bertha Haughton ran to fetch a screw-driver +from her room, and the other two +girls moved toward the door. Vivia Varnham +looked black. She had made sure the +box was for her, and felt aggrieved at the +stupid freshman who appropriated it. Viola +Vincent, on the other hand, was delighted. +"I'm awfully glad!" she said. "It's simply +dandy, having a box come. Ta, ta! I hope<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +it will be something perf'ly splendid, dresses +and hats and all kinds of giddiness. I love +giddiness! When you want to be giddy, you +must come to us; the Owls are too worthy. +There's Fluffy back again with the screw-driver. +Ta again! Awfully glad!"</p> + +<p>Peggy was half inclined to ask Viola to +stay, but still it was rather a relief when the +opposite door closed. Whatever the box contained, +she could not have enjoyed it with +those sharp, cold eyes of Viola Varnham +looking on.</p> + +<p>"Here is the screw-driver!" cried Bertha, +out of breath with her flight along the corridor. +"It's very strong, you need not be +afraid of pressing on it. Can I do anything +more to help you? If not, I must go. I hope +it is something very nice indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Go! you!" cried Peggy. "Oh, must +you? Can't you stay and help me see what +it is? It isn't any fun opening boxes alone," +she added, piteously.</p> + +<p>The girl does not live who would not rather +unpack a box than eat her dinner. "If you +are sure you want me," said Bertha. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +didn't want to be in the way, that was +all."</p> + +<p>"In the way! Oh, Miss Haughton! Why, +you are the only friend I have here in this +lonesome place."</p> + +<p>"If I am going to be your friend, I am not +going to be Miss Haughton another minute. +Do you really want me to stay, Peggy?"</p> + +<p>"I do, Bertha, indeed I do."</p> + +<p>"Honour bright?"</p> + +<p>"Honour brightest!"</p> + +<p>"Hurrah, then! And now for the box!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>THE BOX FROM FERNLEY.</h3> + + +<p>The box was no ordinary rough affair, +knocked together for simple purposes of transportation. +It was neatly and carefully made, +the edges fitting closely together, the lid +furnished with hinges.</p> + +<p>"We must take care how we open this!" +said Bertha. "It would be a shame to spoil +such a fine box."</p> + +<p>Peggy was used to tools of every description, +and she drew out the screws deftly, then +lifted the lid. Both girls bent eagerly forward. +Nothing was visible but white paper, +neatly fitted to the top of the box. Yes! on +the paper lay a card, on which was written, +"For Peggy's housekeeping. From Uncle +John and Margaret, with best love."</p> + +<p>The handwriting was Margaret's, and Peggy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +seized and kissed it before going further. "It +is Margaret!" she said. "Dear, darling +Margaret, the best friend I have in the world. +Oh, how dear and kind and lovely of them +both! What <i>do</i> you suppose they have sent +me?"</p> + +<p>"Suppose we see!" said Bertha Haughton. +Yet both girls lingered a moment, tasting the +joy of suspense.</p> + +<p>It was not a joy to be long indulged, however. +Together they lifted the paper, and +lo! more paper, but this time enveloping various +mysterious packages neatly tied with pink +tape.</p> + +<p>"Margaret's tape!" cried Peggy. "Uncle +John gave her a great big spool of it, because +she said she had never seen enough in her +life. Oh, what a fat bundle! You shall +open it, Bertha, because you have been so +good to me."</p> + +<p>"Open your bundle!" cried Bertha. "Indeed +I will not! I never heard of such a +thing. Be quick, though, for I do want to +see."</p> + +<p>The big square parcel revealed an afghan,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +knitted in long stripes of red and blue, the +colours rich and warm, and harmonising +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a beauty!" cried Bertha, while +Peggy gazed in silent delight. "My dear, it +warms the whole room! and the length of it, +and the breadth! why, it will go on double. +I never saw such a splendid one."</p> + +<p>Indeed, the great afghan had been Margaret's +"pick-up work" ever since she first +heard that Peggy was going to school, and +loving thoughts were knitted into every stripe.</p> + +<p>"What next?" said Bertha. "My dear, +sofa-pillows!"</p> + +<p>So they were, four of them, each prettier +than the other.</p> + +<p>"But what shall I do with them?" said +Peggy, with a comical glance around the room. +"There's no sign of a sofa. Never mind! +they are perfect beauties. Oh, and what can +this be? Oh, Bertha, see, it is a bookcase!"</p> + +<p>The six pieces of polished wood were quickly +fitted together, and there was indeed a bookcase, +not very large, but still ample to contain +all the books Peggy would be likely to need.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where are your books?" asked Bertha, +innocently; and Peggy hung her head.</p> + +<p>"My Bible is in my drawer," she said. +"I—I didn't bring any other books. I'm +a dreadful dunce," she added, timidly. "I +might as well tell you now, for you'd find it +out anyhow, the very first time you talked +about books. I don't—care—about them, +much."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" and Bertha looked a little blank, +being a bookworm herself. "But there must +be some books you are fond of, Peggy?"</p> + +<p>Peggy shook her head despondently. "I +don't believe there are," she said. "Oh, of +course I like 'Treasure Island,' and 'Robin +Hood,' and that kind of thing. But history, +and the Waverley Novels—why, Margaret +would like to read the Waverley Novels all +day; and they put me to sleep in five +minutes."</p> + +<p>She looked anxiously at her new friend, to +see the effect of this dreadful confession; but +Bertha only laughed. "Well, I love the +Waverleys very much myself," she said; +"but I know everybody doesn't care for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +them. But when you want to read, Peggy, +what do you do?"</p> + +<p>"But I don't want to read," said Peggy, +humbly. "It—it seems such a waste of +time; except Coues, of course, and he wouldn't +go in my trunk, and Pa is going to send him +by express."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" asked Bertha, puzzled +in her turn. "Cows!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the book, you know! Oh, I couldn't +live without that."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean a herd-book? Of course, +you said you lived on a farm. You mean that +you study pedigrees and that kind of thing?"</p> + +<p>Now it was Peggy's turn to laugh, as she +explained that she meant Prof. J. Elliott +Coues's admirable book on birds.</p> + +<p>"Pa has Samuels," she added, "but I +couldn't bring that, because it is out of print, +and too valuable. Besides, he isn't so thorough +as Coues, don't you know, especially in anatomy +and that part. Is there a good class in +anatomy here? Of course I shall want to +join that."</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 267px;"> +<img src="images/gs02.png" width="267" height="400" alt=""'BERTHA, LOOK AT THIS, WILL YOU?'"" title=""'BERTHA, LOOK AT THIS, WILL YOU?'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'BERTHA, LOOK AT THIS, WILL YOU?'"</span> +</div> +<p>"Oh, dear!" cried Bertha, in comical dismay,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +"I don't know! Peggy Montfort, you +are not a dunce at all; you are just shamming. +The idea of any one <i>wanting</i> to study +anatomy!"</p> + +<p>"The idea of wanting to study anything +else," cried Peggy, "except physics and +geometry. It's this horrible literature and +stuff that I cannot bear. But we can't stop +and talk, with the box only half unpacked. +Oh, pictures! Now I do like pictures, when +they are the right kind. Bertha, look at this, +will you?"</p> + +<p>With difficulty she lifted out a large picture +which filled the box from end to end. +Both girls uttered a cry of delight. It was +the "Automedon" of Henri Regnault. The +great horses rearing and plunging, the heroic +figure of the charioteer, seemed to take Peggy's +breath. "It—it's the kind of thing you +dream about, isn't it?" she said. "They are +alive; I believe they'll break through the +glass in another minute. Oh, there can't be +anything else as splendid as this!"</p> + + + +<p>But when she drew out next a fine photograph +of "The Night Watch," she hardly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +knew what to say. The gleaming eyes of the +lions, prowling among the ruined columns, +fascinated her almost as much as the wild +horses had done. She had less to say to the +beautiful photograph of the Sistine Madonna, +which came next; yet she looked at it with +eyes of wistful affection. It was Margaret's +favourite picture, and she loved it on that account +as well as its own. Yet her taste was +for "critters," as she freely acknowledged; +and she glowed again as Bertha held up an +engraving of "Sheridan's Ride," with the +great captain riding straight out of the picture +at her.</p> + +<p>"That's the kind of thing she wants!" +Mr. Montfort had said, when he and his niece +Margaret were having their delightful "Peggy-lark," +as he called it. "The Sistine by all +means, Meg; but no more old masters for our +Peggy. She won't understand them, and she +won't like them. What was it she said about +your pet St. Anthony?"</p> + +<p>"She said he looked as if he had gone out +for clams and fallen into the mud!" said Margaret, +rather ruefully. "I suppose you are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +right, Uncle John; but, oh, do look at this +lovely Murillo angel! How could she help +loving this?"</p> + +<p>"The anatomy of it would distress her," +said Mr. Montfort, dryly. "You know Peggy +is strong on anatomy. Better take the 'Automedon.'"</p> + +<p>"Which you said was out of drawing!" +cried Margaret, with a flash of mischief. "Oh, +if you are going to put false ideas into her +head, Uncle John—" on which she was very +properly told to choose her pictures, and not +be saucy.</p> + +<p>The last picture in the box had not been +chosen in any picture-shop; and at sight of it +Peggy sat down on the bed and began to cry.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" she said. "What shall I do? +Oh, Margaret, Margaret, what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>Kind-hearted Bertha was distressed. "Don't +cry, dear!" she said. "I know! I know +just how it feels. Is it your father and +sister?"</p> + +<p>"No! oh, no!" said Peggy, wiping her +eyes. "Of course it's different with Pa and +the girls, because I shall be going home every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +vacation, you know. But I never was so +happy in all my life as I was there; and +seeing it—it is Fernley, and Uncle John +and Margaret."</p> + +<p>The large photograph showed a stately +house shadowed by lofty trees. Standing on +the stone verandah were two figures, one, that +of a tall man in a black velvet coat, with +bright dark eyes; the other a slender girl +with a sweet, thoughtful face. Both seemed +to be looking straight at Peggy, and she felt +Uncle John's kind look and Margaret's tender +smile like warmth at her heart.</p> + +<p>"I—I'm only crying because—I'm—glad!" +she said. And Bertha seemed to +understand that, too.</p> + +<p>But the wonderful box was not yet empty; +it really seemed like the famous bag of the +Fairy Blackstick. Out came a gay Oriental +cloth, which made another thing of the chilly +little polished table; item, a bureau-cover +embroidered with gold-coloured chrysanthemums; +item, a wonderful work-basket, fitted +with everything that a needlewoman's heart +could desire; item, a spirit-lamp and a hot-water<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +bottle, and a neat little tool-chest. +Peggy sighed over the work-basket, and resolved +to do her very best, but at sight of the +tool-chest her eyes sparkled, and she seized +upon it with delight, and caressed each shining +implement as if it were a living and beloved +creature.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see such a little duck of a +saw?" she cried. "Oh, I must go to work +and make something this very day. Only, +these two dears have sent me everything that +I could ever possibly need. What is that, +Bertha? There can't be anything more!"</p> + +<p>There could, though, and was. The bottom +of the box was fitted with a cushion or mattress +of chintz, chrysanthemums again, on a +pale green ground; and the last parcel of +all contained several yards of the same material.</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose— Oh, I see!" +cried Peggy. "The box,—we wondered why +it was such a good box, don't you know? It +is to be a kind of sofa, or window-seat, or +something; and this is the cushion, and the +rest is for a flounce and curtains. Oh, dear,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +did you ever hear of anything so perfectly +lovely? Dear Uncle John, dear Margaret!" +and she wept again, and, in default of Margaret, +hugged the biggest sofa-pillow, a wonderful +affair of soft yellow silk, with ruffles +and puffles.</p> + +<p>"Come," said Bertha, "this will never do, +Peggy! We must get these all arranged +before tea, mustn't we? The gong will sound +in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Peggy dried her tears, and the two girls +went to work with right good will. In ten +minutes the dreary room was as cheerful and +homelike a place as heart could desire. The +pictures were hung (I forgot to mention that +the fairy box contained picture-hooks and +wire, hidden away in a corner), the cushions +fitted, the chintz tacked in a neat flounce +around the box, which straightway became a +divan, and looked positively Oriental with the +pillows heaped with careful carelessness on it.</p> + +<p>Peggy stood and surveyed the whole effect +with shining eyes. "When the curtains are +up—" she said, and looked inquiringly at +Bertha.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"When the curtains are up," said Bertha, +"it will be one of the pleasantest rooms in +the whole school."</p> + +<p>And then the gong sounded, and they went +down to tea.</p> + +<p>A throng of girls was pouring into the +great dining-room. Few of them noticed the +newcomer, being taken up with their own +concerns, laughing and chatting, hurrying to +their places; yet Peggy felt as if all eyes +were upon her. She clung close to Bertha +Haughton's arm; but now that friendly arm +was drawn away.</p> + +<p>"I must leave you here, Peggy," said +Bertha.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't leave me! Oh, can't I sit by +you?" asked poor Peggy, in an agonised +whisper.</p> + +<p>"No, dear, I have to go over there, quite +to the other side of the room. See, Miss +Russell is beckoning to you. You are to sit +at her table, with the other freshmen. Cheer +up, Peggy, it'll be all right after the first +minute."</p> + +<p>Bertha nodded kindly, and took her way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +across the hall, while Peggy stumbled along, +tripping over several dresses (she always +stumbled when she was embarrassed), to the +table where the Principal sat. There were +six tables, twelve girls to each table, with a +teacher at the head. Miss Russell greeted +Peggy pleasantly, and it occurred to our +friend for the first time that the Principal +was not a Gorgon, but a human being, with +a grave face, it is true, but with kind and +friendly eyes.</p> + +<p>"I trust you have been resting after your +journey, Miss Montfort! Yes? That is +good. Coming so late yesterday you did not +meet your classmates, who had already gone +to their rooms. Miss Parkins, Miss Barclay, +Miss Manton,—this is Miss Peggy Montfort. +I hope you will introduce her to the other +young ladies after tea."</p> + +<p>The three girls nearest Peggy bowed, all +more or less shyly; it was comforting to feel +that there were others who felt as strange as +she did. In fact, Miss Parkins, who sat on +her left, was so manifestly and miserably +frightened that Peggy felt herself a lion by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +comparison, and, by way of improving acquaintance, +asked her boldly for the salt.</p> + +<p>Miss Parkins gasped, shivered, clutched +the pepper-pot, and dropped it into her own +plate. The other freshmen giggled nervously, +but Peggy glowed with compassion and +sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Never mind!" she whispered. "That's +just the kind of thing I am doing all the +time. There is the salt; why, I can reach +it myself, and nobody ever wants pepper, +anyhow. There, that's all right!"</p> + +<p>The girl lifted a pair of eyes so red with +crying, so humble and grateful and altogether +piteous, that Peggy's own eyes almost overflowed. +She put her hand under the table, +found a little limp, cold paw, and gave it +a hearty squeeze. "Cheer up!" she said. +"It'll be better pretty soon, I—I guess. +I am—homesick—too!"</p> + +<p>Then, finding a sob rising in her throat, she +hastily filled her mouth with buttered toast, +choked, and caught herself with a wild sound, +half cough, half snort, that brought the eyes +of the whole table upon her. The strange<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +thing was, Peggy did not seem to care this +time. They were only freshmen like herself. +Any one of them might have choked just as +well as she, and she was bigger than any of +them. If those other girls had seen, now! +not Bertha, but the other two! She glanced +over to the opposite table, where the two V's +sat facing her; but they were chattering +away, with no thought of freshmen or their +doings. Viola Vincent looked very pretty in +a pale blue blouse and white piqué skirt; she +was evidently in high spirits, and was patting +her hair and her waist with perfect satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Perf'ly <i>fine!</i>" came to Peggy's ears, in +her clear piping voice. "My <i>dear</i>, it will be +simply <i>dandy!</i>"</p> + +<p>Peggy glanced at the Principal, she hardly +knew why, except that Margaret disliked +slang; and she saw her brows contract with a +momentary look of vexation. "It does sound +rather horrid!" she thought. "I wonder if I +shall have to give up saying 'awfully!' That +would be perfectly awful. Besides, it sounds +awfully affected to talk like a book all the +time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>Thus meditating, Peggy let her napkin slip +down to the floor. Her neighbour saw it, and +both stooped at the same time to pick it up. +Their heads came together with a violent +crack. "Ow!" cried Peggy, and rubbed her +flaxen poll vigorously. Miss Parkins was too +frightened to know whether she was hurt or +not. "Never mind!" said Peggy. "It was +my fault just as much as yours. Did you get +an awful crack? Oh! I mean, did you hurt +yourself?"</p> + +<p>The poor girl murmured something, but it +was more like a sob than a speech; and +Peggy could only press the limp hand again, +and resolve that when she knew the girl a +little better she would try to put some spirit +into her. Her own spirit was rising. She +felt that ten pairs of eyes were watching her +furtively; that her companions were taking +notes, and that every spoonful she ate was +counted and criticised; but still her courage +was good, and she was even able to notice +that the biscuits were light and the peach +preserves delicious.</p> + +<p>I said ten pairs of eyes, for the eleventh<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +had never been lifted above the level of the +table-cloth, save for that one grateful glance +over the spilt pepper. Certainly Miss Parkins +was a queer-looking little person. Very +small and slight, with a certain wizened look +that did not belong to so young a face; a long, +thin nose, and two small reddish-brown eyes +that looked as if they had always been given +to crying. The child—she did not look more +than a child—had no beauty of any kind; +yet a certain gentleness of look redeemed the +poor little face from absolute ugliness. She +was queerly dressed, too. Her gown was of +good, even rich material, but in questionable +taste, and cut in a fashion that might have +suited her grandmother. Peggy's own ideas +of dress were primitive, and she was not very +observant, but she did feel that blue poplin +stamped with large red roses was not a suitable +dress for a schoolgirl, even if she were +not small and plain and wizened, and even if +it were not cut in a bygone fashion.</p> + +<p>Peggy saw, or fancied she saw, glances of +amused contempt thrown at her poor little +neighbour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All the more reason," she thought, "why +I should make friends with her."</p> + +<p>"Do you—did you come yesterday, or the +day before?" she asked, as cheerfully as she +could.</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, I think so!" was the reply, in a +gasping whisper. This was not very encouraging, +but Peggy proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Did you have far to come? I came all the +way from Ohio."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, I don't think so!"</p> + +<p>"It took me all day to get here. It's +horrid travelling alone, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I—don't know! I never travelled."</p> + +<p>On the whole, the girl seemed so distressed +that Peggy felt it would be a cruel kindness +to pursue the conversation. "I needn't talk +to the others," she said to herself. "They +came before I did; they can talk to me if +they want to."</p> + +<p>But now supper was over, and the girls +rose with a whirr, like a flock of pigeons, and +fluttered out of the dining-room. Peggy +looked longingly after Bertha Haughton; +indeed, Bertha seemed to be lingering, looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +for her; but at that moment two or three +girls swooped down upon the junior, and +began a hubbub of questions. Peggy felt all +her shyness rushing back in a flood. Turning +to flee, she almost fell over little Miss Parkins, +who was hastening on her way, too. "Come!" +said Peggy. "We are both strange cats; +suppose we stay together! What happens +now, do you know? This is my first evening +here. It's awfully queer, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" gasped Miss Parkins. "They—she—read +something last night. Don't you +think I might go to my room? I want to go +to my room! Don't you think I might?"</p> + +<p>"Of course you may!" said Peggy, on fire +with sympathy. "It's a pity if you've got +to hear reading when you don't want to. +Cut along, young 'un!"</p> + +<p>Her brother's familiar phrase rose naturally +to her lips; it was unfortunate that at +that moment one of the teachers happened +to pass by. She was a long, sallow woman, +with greenish eyes set too near together, and +the gaze she fixed upon Peggy was appalling +in its severity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Young ladies are required to attend the +reading!" she said. "Your expression is an +improper one, Miss Montfort!" and pinching +her lips together she passed on.</p> + +<p>"My goodness gracious me!" whispered +Peggy. "Who is that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! hush! oh, don't!" whispered Lobelia +Parkins, miserably. "She's going to read +to-night, because the Principal has a cold; +I heard them saying so. That is Miss +Pugsley!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>IN THE "GYM."</h3> + + +<p>Peggy's pillow was quite damp when she +went to sleep that night. To be sure she had +been cheered by a friendly call from Bertha +Haughton, but even that could not keep the +homesickness from triumphing, when she was +left alone, and the sounds in the corridor died +away, and the light was out. Home seemed +so far, so endlessly far away; she felt so +utterly alone in the world! Education seemed +a foolish and meaningless thing beside the +love and comfort of home. What would she +not give to be able to put out her hand and +feel her sister Jean beside her, warm and loving, +her own flesh and blood!</p> + +<p>So the pillow was damp, as I have said; +but Peggy was young and healthy, and she +fell asleep after awhile, and when she woke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +again the sun was up and the pillow was +dry. Now she did put out her hand for Jean, +forgetting where she was; and finding nothing +but a cold wall, lay looking around her, +coming back to the present. The room +looked very strange at first. "Maybe I'm +not awake!" said Peggy, wisely; then she +pinched herself, and with the pinch the whole +thing came back.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course!" she said. "Oh, dear! +well, here I am; and I wanted to come, and +I've been thinking about it for months, and +then it goes and is like this!" She sighed, and +wondered what they were doing at home, and +at Fernley; then she became interested in her +pretty room, and her heart overflowed once +more with love to her dear ones at Fernley, +who had made it so bright and charming for +her. "I know what Margaret would say!" +exclaimed Peggy, raising her head from the +pillow. "She would say, 'Now you are there, +my dear, try to make the best of it;' and so +I will! You hear me!" These last words +were spoken aloud with some severity, and +appeared to be addressed to the brush and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +comb, which took no notice whatever. And +then Peggy made the best of that moment, +and got up.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was another ordeal, but not so +bad as the tea of the night before; after +breakfast came prayers, and then the class-room. +Peggy found herself seated at a desk, +beside one of her classmates, Rose Barclay, +a pretty brunette, with rosy cheeks and bright +dark eyes. In the brief pause before study-time, +the two girls made acquaintance, and +Peggy learned that theirs was the largest +freshman class the school had ever had. All +the others were in the west wing, where the +freshmen belonged.</p> + +<p>"You came late," said Rose Barclay, "and +that's why you are over among the Jews and +Seas. That's what they call the juniors and +seniors; I've learned so much already!" she +said, laughing. "They seem to have nicknames +for everything and everybody in this place."</p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Peggy. "Even the rooms +are named!" and she told of Vanity Fair and +the Owls' Nest.</p> + +<p>"Corridor A?" asked Rose Barclay. "Oh,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +they must be Jews. That is Judea, I am +pretty sure; and the Senior Corridor is the +Mediterranean. It's awfully silly, isn't it? +and yet it's funny, too. I suppose we shall +get into the swing of it after awhile. You +homesick?"</p> + +<p>Peggy nodded.</p> + +<p>"So'm I! Cry last night?"</p> + +<p>Peggy nodded again.</p> + +<p>"So did I! but not so much as the girl +next door to me. My! she must have cried +about all night, I should think. I woke up +two or three times, and she was crying every +time, and I heard her sniffing in her bath +this morning."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you go in and try to cheer +her up?" demanded Peggy, rather fiercely.</p> + +<p>Rose Barclay stared. "Oh, I couldn't +do that! why, I've never spoken to her; it +was that queer little piece that sat next to +you. Besides, she looks as if she'd die if +any one spoke to her."</p> + +<p>The school was called to order, and Peggy +soon forgot homesickness and everything else +in the keen joy of mathematics.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>She had chosen the scientific course—there +were three courses in the school—in +order to get as much of practical and as little +of literary knowledge as might be. Geometry +was her delight, and it was geometry over +which she was bending now.</p> + +<p>Most of the teachers at Pentland School +expected little of the new pupil from Ohio. +The written examinations that Peggy had +passed had caused many a head-shaking. The +history teacher sighed; the gentle mistress +of English literature groaned, and said, "Why +must this child come here?" Only Miss +Boyle, the mistress of mathematics, had +nodded her head over the papers. "Here's +a girl who knows what she is about!" she +said. Accordingly, when Peggy entered class +this morning, she was surprised at the cordial +greeting she received from the bright-eyed +lady at the central desk; and an indefinable +sense of being at home and among +friends stole gradually over her, as she +wrestled with one delightful problem after +another.</p> + +<p>Rose Barclay, at her side, was biting her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +pencil and twisting her pretty forehead into +hard knots, and making little progress; but +Peggy had forgotten her existence. The +period passed like a moment, as theorem after +theorem was disposed of.</p> + +<p>"Let EDF and BAC be two triangles, having +the angle E equal to the angle B, the +angle F to the angle C, and the included side +EF to the included side BC; then will the +triangle EDF be equal to the triangle BAC?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it will!" Peggy drew triangles +in swift and accurate demonstration. "Put +the side EF on its equal BC, and let the +point E fall on B, and the point F on C. +Then, you see, of course—"</p> + +<p>"I don't see how any one is ever to do this!" +murmured her neighbour, in despair. "Why! +why, you've done yours. Oh, just let me +see, won't you? I never can work it out in +the world, so do let me copy yours!"</p> + +<p>Peggy reddened to the tips of her ears. +"Do you—can you—are we allowed to do +that?" she stammered.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Just as you please!" said Rose +Barclay, coldly. "I thought you might be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +willing to oblige me, that's all. It's of no +consequence!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! But you don't understand!" whispered +Peggy, eagerly; but Rose had turned +away, and paid no heed to her; and Miss +Boyle tapped with her pencil and said, +"Young ladies! No whispering in class, if +you please!"</p> + +<p>In a few minutes a bell rang, and all the +girls sprang up in great relief; geometry was +not generally popular, and now came the +"gym" hour, dear to all. Peggy turned at +once to her neighbour, sure that she would be +able to explain everything to the satisfaction +of both. To her amazement and distress she +met a look so cold and hostile that it seemed +to freeze the words on her lips.</p> + +<p>"Miss Barclay!" she said, imploringly. +"You didn't understand me, indeed you +didn't. I should be perfectly delighted to +help you, of course I should, only I thought +it might be against the rules. Of course, I +might have known you would know what is +allowed. I'm awfully sorry!"</p> + +<p>Rose Barclay hesitated; her face seemed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +to soften for a moment; then it hardened +again, and another change came over it which +Peggy did not comprehend.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean!" she muttered. +"Please excuse me, I am in a hurry." +She was gone, and Peggy, turning in great +distress, found Miss Boyle standing at her +elbow. Had she heard? Peggy was sure +she could not have heard, for there was no +look of surprise or of anything peculiar in +her pleasant face.</p> + +<p>"You like geometry, Miss Montfort?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I love geometry! Oh, please, +are we allowed to help each other, Miss +Boyle?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" said Miss Boyle, quietly. +"Not upon any account. You can see for +yourself that there would be no use in a girl's +taking geometry if she cannot do the work +herself."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see! I thought so, only—thank +you very much. Do you—shall I go now?"</p> + +<p>She looked around, and was startled to see +that all the other girls had disappeared, and +she was alone with the teacher.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Boyle smiled, and her smile was so +friendly that it warmed poor Peggy's heart.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you may go now," she said; "but +I shall hope to see something of you, Miss +Montfort. If you will come to my room +some evening, I will show you some pretty +problems that are not in the text-books."</p> + +<p>With this, the highest compliment she could +pay a pupil, Miss Boyle went on her way; and +Peggy, after wandering through two or three +deserted class-rooms, and breaking in upon a +senior committee-meeting of a highly private +nature, and walking into a pantry, found +herself at last in the gymnasium.</p> + +<p>This was a lofty and spacious room, fitted +with every possible appliance for gymnastic +exercises. Peggy's eyes brightened as she +gazed about her, at the rope-ladders, the +parallel bars, the rings and vaulting-horses +and spring-boards. If this were not Paradise, +Peggy did not know what was, that +was all.</p> + +<p>Some of the girls were already arrayed in +blouse and full trousers, and were taking +their place in ranks, under the eye of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +alert, graceful young woman in a pretty +dark blue suit. Others were hurrying up +from some apartment on a lower floor, and +from the stairway came a hum of voices +which showed that others were still making +ready.</p> + +<p>Bertha Haughton, in crimson blouse and +black trousers, hurried up to Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Here you are!" she cried. "I have been +trying to find you. Where are your gym +things? Haven't got any? Oh, how too +bad!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know!" said poor Peggy. "It +didn't say in the programme, did it? Can't I +do anything without them? Oh, dear."</p> + +<p>Her face, so bright a moment before, +clouded so instantly with disappointment and +mortification, that the experienced junior could +hardly repress a smile.</p> + +<p>"My dear! my dear!" she cried. "Do +wait till I tell you. You can wear the +Snowy's things. She hasn't come back yet, +and you can wear them just as well as not +till she comes."</p> + +<p>"The Snowy?" repeated Peggy. She remembered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +vaguely that she had heard the +name, but it meant nothing to her in her +trouble.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my chum, the Snowy Owl. I'm the +Fluffy one, don't you remember? The Snowy +is a bit taller than you, but that is no matter; +you can wear them perfectly well, I tell you. +Come along, and I'll get you into them."</p> + +<p>Peggy hung back, protesting faintly against +appropriating the clothes of a person she had +never seen; but finally she yielded to Bertha's +vigorous pulls, and followed her down a winding +stair, into a narrow room filled with a +hubbub of girls in every stage of dressing +and undressing. Viola Vincent fluttered up +to her (it is difficult to flutter in a gymnasium +suit, and only Viola's supremely butterfly +quality enabled her to do it), a charming +vision of pale blue, with a profusion of tiny +brass buttons twinkling wherever a button +could be put.</p> + +<p>"Here you are!" she cried, airily. "I +haven't seen you for an age. I've been telling +everybody about you, the V. V's vis-à-vis. +It sounds so quaint, doesn't it? I adore quaintness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +How do you like my new suit, Fluffy? +Isn't it too cute for anything? This is the +first time I've worn it; I think it is too +perfectly sweet to live in, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not!" said Bertha, laughing. +"We should be sorry to have you pass +away, Vanity, because your dress is too +sweet."</p> + +<p>"No, but really!" continued Viola, earnestly. +"Do I exaggerate, Fluffy? <i>Isn't</i> it +the sweetest thing you ever saw? I ask because +I want to know, you know!"</p> + +<p>Bertha's only reply was to pull her pink +ear good-naturedly, and then dive head-foremost +into a locker.</p> + +<p>"You find the Fluffy quaint?" said Viola +to Peggy. "Yes? she is quaint, but delicious! +So is the Snowy! I simply could not exist +without them; they are the guiding stars of +the corridor, don't you know? What are you +about, Fluffy? What are you doing with the +Snowy's togs? She has not come back, no!" +clasping her hands in ecstasy. "<i>Don't</i> tell +me the Snowy has come back, Fluff!"</p> + +<p>"I certainly won't!" said Bertha, coolly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +"She isn't coming back till day after to-morrow. +Peggy Montfort is going to wear +her things till her own are ready, that's all. +Don't excite yourself too much, Vanity; it'll +take the colour out of your hair."</p> + +<p>"No! <i>Do</i> you think so?" replied Viola; +"really? ah! here's V., ready at last. What I +have to endure, V., waiting while you prink, +no tongue can tell. Ta, dears, come up +soon!" and she fluttered away, arm in arm +with her chum.</p> + +<p>"Is she always like that?" asked Peggy, +bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Who? Vanity? Oh, yes! there's no possible +harm in Vanity; she is really the best +hearted creature in the world. The other, +though,—well, you want to be a little on +your guard with Vivia. Oh, we are the best +friends in the world, of course; only, her +temper is a little uncertain at times, and it's +just as well to know about it. There! why, +the trousers fit you to perfection!" The +trousers, as wide as the Flying Dutchman's, +certainly fell comfortably enough about Peggy's +stout knees.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now for the blouse! I'll put it over your +head!"</p> + +<p>A silent but breathless struggle followed, +from which Peggy emerged panting and crimson, +but victorious. "Oh, I do hope she—your +chum—won't mind!" she cried. "I +am so afraid I shall get them dirty!" for it +was a whim of the Snowy Owl's to wear a +white gym suit, and it was as fresh as if it +were just out of the tub, as indeed it was.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is no matter! She washes them +every week; she likes to wash; it's one of her +accomplishments. Come along now!"</p> + +<p>They ran up-stairs, and found the class just +forming in ranks. A gesture bade them fall +into line with the rest, and Peggy stood with +her toes on a chalk mark, waiting the word +of command.</p> + +<p>It came. "Left foot forward—fall out!" +At the command every girl put out her left +foot as far as she could, and flung her whole +weight forward on it. Peggy did the same, +and fell on her nose with a resounding crash. +The class giggled, but were sharply checked +by the teacher.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We will try this once more. Try to balance +the body carefully! Take time! Once +more! Left foot forward—fall out!"</p> + +<p>Again the line dropped forward with one +motion; and again our poor Peggy fell on her +nose. This time the nose protested in its way, +and bled; great crimson drops fell on the white +plumage of the Snowy Owl. Almost crying +with distress and mortification, Peggy felt for +her handkerchief. Alas! she was not used to +trousers, and no pocket could she find, though +there was one, and her handkerchief was in +it. What should she do? She was just +about to make a bolt for the stairs, when a +handkerchief was thrust into her hand. She +clapped it to her suffering nose, and looked +gratefully at her left-hand neighbour in the +ranks. The girl nodded slightly, and said, +"All serene! better ask leave to retire. Hold +arms over head, stop it!" She was a slender +girl, with a pensive face and melancholy blue +eyes. Her hair was plainly parted, Madonna-fashion, +and there was something remote and +old-world about her whole look and air.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you!" murmured poor Peggy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +"You're awfully kind!" She hoped the tiresome +bleeding would stop on the instant, but +it did not; she was obliged to ask leave to go +down-stairs; and receiving it, dashed down +headlong, and cannoned violently against +Vivia Varnham, who had gone down for +something she had forgotten.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I beg your pardon!" gasped Peggy. +"I'm—awfully clumsy—"</p> + +<p>"I think you are!" said the other, with +a flash of her hazel eyes. "Perhaps you'll let +me pass now, please, before you make another +exhibition of yourself." She went on, with +a scornful toss of her head.</p> + +<p>Poor Peggy! her tears flowed fast over the +friendly handkerchief. "I wish I was dead!" +she sobbed. "I wish I had never come to +this horrid, odious place, where everybody is +so hateful. And I can't hold up my arms +when I have to hold this to my nose all the +time."</p> + +<p>"Quite so!" said a quiet voice behind her. +The sad-looking girl took her hands and held +them straight up in one of her own, the other +keeping the handkerchief in position. No<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +word was spoken, but in five minutes the +bleeding was stopped.</p> + +<p>"Basin—water!" said the stranger. "Don't +mention it!" as Peggy tried to falter her +thanks. And she was gone.</p> + +<p>Peggy waited till she felt sure of herself +and her nose. Then she spoke severely to +herself, and asked what Uncle John would +say to such behaviour. "<i>Everybody</i> isn't +hateful!" she said. "And anyhow, there are +some things there that I can do, if I haven't +learned this trick. I won't give up till I've +gone up that rope."</p> + +<p>Her eye had been caught by a stout rope +dangling from the ceiling. This was in her +own line, and she felt that if she could redeem +herself in her own eyes, she should not care +so much about all those other laughing eyes. +And yet, perhaps she thought more about +those eyes than she was aware of, for our +Peggy was very human.</p> + +<p>This time fortune favoured her. As she +emerged from the lower regions, a girl was +just trying to climb the rope; in fact, there +were three ropes hanging side by side, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +the climbing of them was part of the regular +exercise. She sought Bertha, who was most +sympathetic, not having been near enough to +help Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Climb the rope? Oh, you'd better not +try that, Peggy! it takes a lot of practice. +Why, I've been here two years, and I can't +get to the top yet. Really, it's very hard. +Let's come and swing on the ring, if you are +quite sure about your poor nose."</p> + +<p>But Peggy did not want to swing on the +rings, nor to do anything else that Bertha +proposed; she wanted to climb that rope, and +she meant to do it; the prairie blood was roused.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll ask Miss Brent," said good-natured +Bertha, finding her determined. "You +say you have had some experience in climbing? +Perhaps she'll let you go a little way up."</p> + +<p>Miss Brent, interrogated, came and looked +Peggy over carefully; felt her muscles, asked +her a few questions, and then said, "You may +have the next turn, Miss Montfort."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 265px;"> +<img src="images/gs03.png" width="265" height="400" alt=""UP THEY WENT, HAND OVER HAND."" title=""UP THEY WENT, HAND OVER HAND."" /> +<span class="caption">"UP THEY WENT, HAND OVER HAND."</span> +</div> + +<p>The girl on the rope next her was having +a sad time of it. She swung this way and +that; her legs waved wildly in the air; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +at length she came down "all abroad," having +only ascended a few feet. At the same +moment, the girl on the next rope dropped, +so that two were left unoccupied. Peggy +advanced and laid her hand upon one rope, +just as Vivia Varnham took possession of the +other. On the third, the pensive girl with +the Madonna braids was swinging easily, half-way +up to the ceiling; she twisted her feet +around the rope, and, so resting, observed the +progress of the other two.</p> + +<p>Up they went, hand over hand. Vivia +Varnham gave a glance of disdain when she +saw who her rival was. She was light and +agile, and did not for an instant think that +this heavy, clumsy creature could make any +headway against her. She went up lightly and +easily, but somehow the heavy, clumsy creature +managed to keep abreast of her; was even +gaining upon her, drawing up, up, above her +head. Vivia put on a spurt, and passed +Peggy, climbing very swiftly—for a moment; +then the ache in her wrists compelled her to +slacken her rate of speed, and the thickset +figure came up, up, steadily and surely. Truth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +to tell, though Peggy Montfort was awkward, +she was as strong as a steer. Her weight +was not fat, but sheer bone and brawn; and +her one hundred and forty pounds were easy +enough for her to carry, even up a rope thirty +feet long. But Vivia Varnham, with all her +lightness and quickness, had little strength in +her wrists. They ached painfully, but she +would not give up. Her face flushed, her +breath came in distressful gasps, she struggled +on and up. They were more than half-way +up; they had passed the quiet observer, +swinging comfortably with her feet twisted in +her rope. "Better go down, V.!" said the girl +with the sad eyes. "She's too many for you!"</p> + +<p>Vivia shook her head with an angry gesture. +Her eyes swam, the pain in her wrists +was unendurable; but she set her teeth, and +struggled on, till from below came the voice +of Miss Brent, calm and authoritative.</p> + +<p>"Come down, Miss Varnham! You have +gone far enough."</p> + +<p>Most unwillingly, with sullen face and fluttering +breath, Vivia slid to the floor. She +expected, everybody expected, to hear the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +order repeated for the benefit of the newcomer, +the audacious freshman who had ventured +upon junior ground; for the rope-climbing +was not generally attempted till the +third year. But Miss Brent kept her eyes on +Peggy, and smiled, and made no sign.</p> + +<p>Peggy was enjoying herself immensely. +She was not a swift climber, but there was no +tiring her, and this, as she said to herself, +was "great!" She wished Margaret could +see her! No! It would frighten dear Margaret. +Rita, then! Rita loved feats of skill; +probably she could climb far better than she, +Peggy, could; Rita was so light, so graceful, +so fearless.</p> + +<p>A shout rang from below. Something +passed her on the next rope, light and swift +as a bird in flight. She could almost touch +the ceiling now; she looked up; there, at the +very top of the next rope, was her friend of +the dressing-room, gazing at her with melancholy +blue eyes, and holding out a slender +hand.</p> + +<p>"Shake!" said the girl with the Madonna +braids.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>ENTER THE SCAPEGOAT.</h3> + + +<p>Peggy was sitting alone in her room that +evening, studying, when there rose a hubbub +outside her window; wheels, and the trampling +of horses, and girls' voices. She ran to +the window and looked out; there was a +great hay-rigging, drawn by four stout horses, +and comfortably lined with straw. Girls +were climbing into it on every side, and more +and more came pouring out of the house. +It was full moon, and their faces shone so +clear and merry in the light, that Peggy +could not help feeling a pang, not of envy, +but of longing. Of course there had been no +question of her going; it was a junior affair; +but they all looked so happy and jolly, and it +was so lonely here! As she stood longing, +Viola Vincent popped her pretty head in to +say good-bye.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thought you might like to see my +toque!" she said, fluttering in the doorway. +"It's the first time I have had it on. Isn't it +dandy? Isn't it perfectly sweet?"</p> + +<p>Peggy thought it charming, and said so; +she was rapidly losing her heart to her pretty +butterfly neighbour.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd like to see it!" said +Viola, naïvely. "It makes it easier to study, +if you see something pretty. Ta, dear! I +wish you were going. We shall have a dandy +time, simply dandy!"</p> + +<p>She fluttered out, and left the door ajar +behind her, so that Peggy could not help hearing +the half-whispered colloquy that ensued +in the corridor.</p> + +<p>"Went to say good-bye to the Veezy Vee. +Why shouldn't I?"</p> + +<p>"Why should you? You'll have her +around your neck if you don't take care, +like a lump, as she is."</p> + +<p>"Hush, V.! you're quite vinegar, aren't +you? Why? She's perfectly harmless, and +I find her quaint. You know I adore quaintness!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, come along, and don't talk flummery +to me; you know I can't stand it."</p> + +<p>The two passed on, and Peggy's ears +burned uncomfortably. Evidently Vivia Varnham +had taken a violent dislike to her; well, +she certainly returned it. And of course +that would prevent her from ever seeing +much of the other, sweet pretty thing. Well, +of course she should have to be alone most +of the time. She went to the window again, +and saw the two V's climbing in; then there +was a great shouting and waving of handkerchiefs, +and they drove away. Peggy sighed, +and sat down once more to her task. It was +rhetoric, and her whole nature cried out +against it; but the study was prescribed, and +the teacher, Miss Pugsley, was reported to be +very strict. Peggy put her elbows on the +table, and her head on her hands, and bent +in good earnest over the book.</p> + +<p>"'Both prepositions and conjunctions are +called connectives.'</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! then why can't we <i>call</i> them +connectives, and have one word to remember, +instead of three?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'When I say the hen barks'—why, +that makes nonsense! Oh, I got two lines +mixed up. 'When I say the dog barks, I +speak of some particular dog.' Well, anybody +can see that. Oh, I do wonder if Flora +will remember to wash Peter's ear, where he +had the canker! It was almost well, but still +it will need washing. Dear Peter! dear dogs! +they will miss me, I know they will. If one +could only have a dog here, it wouldn't be +half so bad. I could have a basket for him +to sleep in, you know, and then in the morning +he would get up on the bed, and we'd +have a beautiful time. There's a dog barking +now! He wants to be let in, poor dear! How +perfectly idiotic some people are, not to know +what a dog wants. I remember that stupid +man at home beating poor Peter,—beating +him with a hoe, when all the time Peter was +telling him that a tramp was stealing the +melons. Yes; but when Petie saw that the +man was an idiot, he went and attended to +the tramp himself, and you never saw a +tramp so scared in your life. Oh, dear! +well!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'He was in the room, and went out of it.' I +wish I could go out of this room; but I don't +know where I should go to. Bertha went, of +course, with the others. If it wasn't for +Bertha, I really don't think I could possibly +stay here."</p> + +<p>A knock at the door; and Bertha's square, +cheerful face looked in. "Any chance to +study here? there's something the matter +with my lamp, why,—Peggy!"</p> + +<p>For Peggy had jumped up and thrown her +arms around her friend's neck, and given +her a hug which took her breath.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you dear!" cried Peggy. "I never +was so glad to see anybody in my life. Here, +take this chair, Bertha. Oh, it was just +lovely of you to come in. You knew I would +be forlorn, I know that was why you came. +But why didn't you go on the straw-ride? +I supposed of course you had gone."</p> + +<p>"One question at a time," pleaded Bertha; +"and I can't answer any if you destroy my +breathing apparatus, Hippolyta."</p> + +<p>"Why Hippolyta?"</p> + +<p>"Oh; she was Queen of the Amazons, don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +you know? Only because you are so strong, +my dear."</p> + +<p>"No," said Peggy, dolefully. "I never +heard of her. Margaret would know, but I +am awfully stupid, I told you I was. Do you +have rhetoric, Bertha?"</p> + +<p>"Not this year. I had it the first two +years. It's not so bad; in fact, I was rather +fond of it."</p> + +<p>Peggy gazed at her in such unfeigned +amazement that Bertha could not help laughing; +but there was never any sneer in +Bertha's laugh. "Come!" she said. "Now +we'll sit down and study our prettiest. See! +I have a lot of Greek to do. Peggy, don't +look like that! What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>Peggy had recoiled in horror, her blue eyes +opened to their widest extent.</p> + +<p>"Greek!" she cried. "You don't—I +sha'n't have to take Greek, shall I? because +I would rather die, and I should die!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! no, I don't know that you will +have to take it at all. What course have you +taken,—scientific? Oh, no, you don't have +Greek in that. What have you had to-day?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Geometry! Of course that was splendid."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! was it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes; I just love geometry. I could +do it all day, but we only have it one hour." +And Peggy looked injured.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bertha, "you are a queer girl, +Peggy Montfort. But there'll be one happy +person in this school, and that is Miss Boyle."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you! Don't most girls,—don't +you like geometry, Bertha?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, I regard everything in the shape +of mathematics with terror and disgust. I +don't know any geometry, nor any algebra. +I've been through them both, and the more +I learned, the more I didn't know. As to +arithmetic, I know that four quarts make a +gallon, and that really is all my mind is equal +to. But if you won't let me study my Greek, +Peggy, I shall go home again to the Nest."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do! I will!" cried poor Peggy; +and there was silence for a time, both girls +studying in earnest, the silence only broken +by the turning of a page, or a heartfelt sigh +from Peggy as she dealt with parts of speech.</p> + +<p>So thoroughly were they absorbed in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +task that they did not hear sundry noises +outside the window. The window was open, +for the night was warm as well as bright; +indeed, the upper half of it was pushed entirely +down, so that it was like a double half-door +of glass. Outside this window was the +black skeleton of the fire-escape; and if the +two girls had been on the alert, they might +have heard various unobtrusive sounds from +this direction. As it was, they both started +violently when a clear voice addressed them +in quiet and thoughtful tones.</p> + +<p>"Peace to this dwelling!" said the voice.</p> + +<p>Peggy looked up hastily. There, leaning +on the window-sash, as calm and composed as +she had been at the top of the rope, was the +stranger with the melancholy eyes and the +Madonna braids.</p> + +<p>"Peace!" she repeated. "Piece of pie! +have some!" She held out a large segment +of pie, and added, "Any admittance for the +Goat?"</p> + +<p>Peggy was still too startled to find breath +to answer, but Bertha sprang up, crying, +"Grace! how could you frighten us so?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not Grace!" said the stranger, with an +unmoved countenance. "Goat! let us not +deceive the Innocent! A scapegrace is one +thing, a scapegoat is another, and from some +points a preferable one. But the Innocent is +abroad, I perceive. Innocent, I am the Scapegoat. +Is there admittance?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" gasped Peggy, blushing and faltering. +"Oh, please come in! I—I didn't know +you were waiting for me to— Sha'n't I open +it from the bottom?"</p> + +<p>"If you will take the pie," said the stranger, +gravely; "thank you; that is your piece, this +is mine,—already bitten, or I would offer it to +the Fluffy."</p> + +<p>Relieved of two large pieces of pie, she laid +one hand on the sash, and vaulted lightly +over; then she shook hands solemnly with +Peggy, took her own piece of pie, and, seating +herself on the floor, proceeded to eat it daintily.</p> + +<p>"It is a good pie!" she said. "If not +afraid of pollution, Fluffy, a bite?"</p> + +<p>Bertha was looking half amused, half angry. +"Grace, how can you act so?" she said.</p> + +<p>"How?" said Grace. "My sweet child, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +is as easy as breathing. I will give instruction +at any time, without charge."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were doing double lessons," +Bertha went on, "and being as good +as gold. Grace, you can be so good!"</p> + +<p>"Can't I!" said Grace; her tone was one +of admiring gravity; her blue eyes kept their +look of pensive sadness.</p> + +<p>"And it's a thing I admire, goodness!" she +went on, shaking her head. "That's why I +practise it. Double lessons? I'll warrant you! +this is the second time I have been down here +to-night, for example; other things in proportion." +She waved her hand, and fell to again +at her pie.</p> + +<p>Peggy had been sitting open-eyed, watching +this singular person, not knowing what to +say. Now, however, meeting the solemn +gaze of the large sad eyes, she felt compelled +to speech.</p> + +<p>"It—it's delicious!" she said, timidly. +"Wouldn't you rather sit in a chair, Miss—" +she hesitated, not liking to say "Grace."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" said Bertha, still put out. +"You make me forget my manners and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +everything, Grace. Peggy, this is Miss Grace +Wolfe; Grace, Miss Peggy Montfort."</p> + +<p>"Charmed!" said Miss Wolfe. "But we +have met before, Fluffy, or I should not have +descended."</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"We met, 'twas on a rope,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And I thought she had done me;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I felt, I could not feel,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">For my fate was upon me.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"If it hadn't been for your possession +of peas, you would have beaten me, Miss +Montfort. As it was, here's to our next +meeting under the ceiling!" She took a large +bite of pie, and regarded Peggy benevolently.</p> + +<p>"Of peas?" repeated Peggy, vaguely, feeling +that this might be English, but was not sense.</p> + +<p>"Precisely. <i>Avoir du pois</i>, literally, to +possess a pea! The French language. But +you should have seen Vexation!" this strange +person added, turning to Bertha. "Did see +her? Well, she was a pleasant sight. Noxious +animal, Vexation! It is a joy to see her taken +down occasionally."</p> + +<p>"I notice you are good friends enough, +where any mischief is afoot!" said Bertha,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +bluntly. She broke a corner off the pie, and +added, "Goat, this is mince pie!"</p> + +<p>"It is! it is!" said Miss Wolfe. "Ever +discriminating, my own! And good? Say it is +good, Fluffy!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is uncommonly good!" said +Bertha. "Where did you get it? You've no +business to have it, of course!"</p> + +<p>"I got it out of a bandbox, sweet one!" +replied Grace Wolfe. "It lives—they live, +I should say, for there are three of them, +thanks be to praise!—in a bandbox. A +round one, or, to be more exact, oval in form, +covered with wall-paper, whereon purple +scrolls dispute the mastery with pink lozenges. +It's the sweetest thing in bandboxes +that I've seen since time was."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the pies!"</p> + +<p>"The pies! as I was saying, three of them; +ample, full moons of rapture!</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"They came in beauty, side by side,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">They filled one home with glee.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Their bones are scattered—"</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>She paused with an expressive gesture.</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>"The best of it is,—you will admit that +this is neat, Fluffy, even if your slavery to +the virtues compels your disapproval,—the +best of it is, the bandbox is the property of +our Puggy."</p> + +<p>"Miss Pugsley's bandbox! Oh, Grace!"</p> + +<p>"Precisely! Our Puggy goes heavily without +it, I am told. What would you? It was +outside her door, while sweeping was going +on; one is human, after all. She was out, +with the best bonnet on her head. Poor head! +Poor bonnet! My hearty commiseration for +both! When she returned, no bandbox! At +present she harries the domestics; she hasn't +thought of me yet, for a wonder. To-morrow, +or the day after, I shall finish the pies—alas! +Then I return the repository, and +her bonnet acquires a fine, full, fruity flavour +that annihilation alone can remove.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"You may break, you may shatter<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The tile if you will,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But the scent of the brandy</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Will cling round it still."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Grace! What a diabolical plot! and you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +have been lying awake, I suppose, chuckling +over this!"</p> + +<p>Miss Wolfe waved her hand in deprecation. +"Not lying awake, sweet one! Too slight a +thing for that; still, it served to amuse. +One must live, even you will admit that. +What's this? Greek? Give it me!" She +stretched out her hand for the book, but +Bertha held it fast.</p> + +<p>"No! no, Goat; I want it myself, and +besides, you have no business here, you know +you haven't."</p> + +<p>"No; and you?" replied the other, +coolly.</p> + +<p>"I have permission; my lamp is out of +order, and I asked Miss Russell if I might +study in here," said Bertha. "But you will +get into trouble if you stay, Grace, you know +you will. Be good now, and go home!"</p> + +<p>Grace Wolfe gazed pensively at her.</p> + +<p>"You would check the interchange of +souls?" she said. "I feel drawn to this +Innocent, Fluff! I feel that she may have an +influence over me for good. You would not +part us? Could'st love a Goat, Innocent?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +she added, turning to Peggy, and fixing her +eyes on her with mournful intensity.</p> + +<p>Peggy blushed, but before she could reply +Bertha struck in decidedly.</p> + +<p>"Grace, just one word! Peggy Montfort is +a stranger, and I am not going to let her get +into trouble if I can help it. And I don't +want you to get into trouble, either!" she +added, more gently. "You know, my dear—"</p> + +<p>She stopped suddenly, for Grace Wolfe +threw up her hand with a warning gesture; +then, with a single swift movement, she +rolled under the bed, and was out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Study!" said Bertha, in a low whisper. +"Study <i>hard!</i>"</p> + +<p>Wholly bewildered, Peggy fixed her eyes +on her book. She had heard no sound before, +but now came a footfall in the corridor. A +knock at the door, and Miss Russell opened +it and looked in.</p> + +<p>"Your lamp is in order now, Bertha," she +said. "I thought I would tell you, as I was +going by; but you can stay a little longer, if +you like. How charming you have made +your room, Miss Montfort."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Won't—won't you come in, Miss Russell?" +stammered poor Peggy, conscious of +Grace Wolfe's eyes under the bed, yet feeling +that civility admitted of only one answer.</p> + +<p>"Not now, thank you! Some day soon +I shall come and make you a little visit, +though, with pleasure. Good night, young +ladies!"</p> + +<p>She nodded kindly, closed the door, and +passed on.</p> + +<p>The girls drew breath. A moment, and +Grace Wolfe rolled out again, rose, and shook +her neat dress.</p> + +<p>"So much for Buckingham!" she said. +"The good point about Principie is, she is +respectable. Now, my Puggy would have +looked through the keyhole first. But I foresee +a visit to my own humble cot, to see +whether I have learned my lessons.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Oh! Farewell, friends!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Here Thisbe ends!"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>She waved her hand, vaulted once more +over the window, and was gone. An occasional +faint, cat-like sound told of her progress<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +up the fire-escape; then a window +creaked slightly overhead, and all was silent.</p> + +<p>Bertha Haughton ruffled up her curly black +locks with a gesture of exasperation.</p> + +<p>"And the worst of it is," she said, "that +girl will know her Greek better than any one +in class. That's half the trouble; she learns +so quickly, her lessons don't take half her +time, and she puts the rest into mischief."</p> + +<p>"She seems awfully clever!" said Peggy, +timidly.</p> + +<p>Bertha nodded. "She is just that, my +dear; awfully clever! I'll tell you more +about her to-morrow, but now we must study +hard, for we've only twenty minutes left. +Only, my dear, when you think of the Goat, +remember three things: she is D. D. D.,—dear, +delightful,—and dangerous!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>TO THE RESCUE.</h3> + + +<p>The next morning proved a hard one for +Peggy; the rhetoric lesson was the first that +must be recited. She had studied it hard, +but somehow the rules seemed to make little +impression. Whenever she tried to fix them +in her mind, there came between her and the +page two melancholy blue eyes, and she +seemed to hear a voice of singular quality, +a voice with a thrill in it, saying, "Could'st +love a Goat, Innocent?"</p> + +<p>So she was not as well prepared as she +should have been when she went into the +class; and on meeting Miss Pugsley's cold +greenish brown eye, what she did know +seemed to evaporate from the top of her +head, leaving a total blank. She stumbled +and floundered; she did not know what an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +antecedent was, and she could not remember +ever to have heard of a reciprocal pronoun.</p> + +<p>"Pray, Miss Montfort, were you asleep or +awake when you studied this lesson?" inquired +Miss Pugsley, with acrid calm.</p> + +<p>"I don't know!" replied Peggy, now thoroughly +bewildered.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you were asleep, let me recommend +you to try it again when you wake up; +or if you were awake, perhaps you might do +it better in your sleep."</p> + +<p>Peggy flushed scarlet, and the ready tears +sprang into her eyes; but she forced them +back, bit her lip, and tried not to feel the +eyes of the whole class bent on her in amused +astonishment. Miss Pugsley seemed to take +positive pleasure in her ignorance and embarrassment. +She put one question after another, +each more ingeniously contrived than the +last—or so it seemed—to show what Peggy +did not know. At last, in self-defence, the +poor child took refuge in one simple and invariable +answer: "I don't know!" So confused +was she that these words were the only +ones she could utter, even when she knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +the correct answer, or would have done so if +she could have collected her wits. By the +end of the hour, Peggy was entirely convinced +that she was the dunce and butt of +the school; that she knew nothing, and never +would know anything.</p> + +<p>It seemed a cruel stroke of fate that this +terrible period should be followed by that of +general history, for Peggy detested history, +as some of my readers already know. She +went into the next class-room with an aching +head, and a heart throbbing with a sense of +utter worthlessness in herself, and of bitter +cruelty in others. She did not even look up at +the teacher, but kept her eyes fixed on her +desk, and answered the few questions that +meant anything to her, sullenly and unwillingly. +She did try at first to follow the +lesson, but her head ached so, the words +seemed to sing themselves into mere nonsense, +and she soon gave up the attempt; the +more so as this teacher, who had been observing +her pretty closely, for some reason or +other asked her very few questions. At last, +however, the blow fell.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where did Philip of Macedon come from, +Miss Montfort?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think you do," said Miss Cortlandt, +with a pleasant smile, and checking, with a +warning glance, the rising giggle.</p> + +<p>"Try again, Miss Montfort. Philip the +Great, Philip of Macedon,—where did he +come from? Surely you can tell me!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Peggy, doggedly; +and at the moment she actually did not.</p> + +<p>"My dear child," said the teacher, "did you +ever hear what was the colour of Washington's +gray mare?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," said Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Well, what was it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>Emily Cortlandt had graduated from college +the year before. She laid down her pencil, +and looked very kindly at the distracted +girl.</p> + +<p>"I think you are not feeling well, Miss +Montfort," she said. "Does your head ache?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," said Peggy. She could not +have said another word; her whole strength<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +was needed to keep back the flood of tears +that was rising, rising.</p> + +<p>"You need not stay through the lesson," +Miss Cortlandt went on, and the sympathy in +her voice only brought the flood higher and +nearer.</p> + +<p>"You can make up the lesson to me some +other time. Now, you would better go and lie +down for a little, and then take a turn in the +fresh air. Miss Bangs, what was the date of +Philip's first invasion?"</p> + +<p>Peggy never knew how she got out of the +class-room. She longed to give at least a +grateful look at the kind soul who had saved +her, but her eyes were already swimming in +tears. She fled along the corridor, sobbing +hysterically, blinded with tears, conscious of +only one thing, the desperate resolve to get +to her room, before she broke down altogether. +Flying thus around a corner, she rushed headlong +into a group of girls who were gathered +around something, she could not tell what. +So violent was the shock that Peggy reeled +and struck her head sharply against the wall. +This brought her to herself. She caught back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +the sob on her lips, and dashed the tears +from her eyes before any one saw them,—or +so she hoped; then she looked to see what +was going on. Next moment she had forgotten +that there were such things as tears +in the world.</p> + +<p>There were six or eight girls in the group, +mostly sophomores, though a few were freshmen. +They were looking down at something—somebody—crouching +on the floor against +the wall, and their laughter, checked for an +instant by Peggy's onset, broke out afresh. +"Here's Peggy Montfort, just in time to see +the fun. Look, Miss Montfort, and see the +fashions! Straight from Paris, and the very +last thing!"</p> + +<p>The speaker was Blanche Haight, a tall +sophomore with bleached hair, and eyes set +too near together. She was considered a wit, +and every time she spoke the other girls +giggled and screamed.</p> + +<p>The person crouching on the floor was +Lobelia Parkins. Her head was pressed +against the wall, her face hidden in her +hands; misery and terror were in every line<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +of her poor little shrinking figure, but this +only gave added delight to her tormentors.</p> + +<p>"Look, ladies, at the new sleeve!" cried +Miss Haight, lifting the skinny arm, from +which the blue poplin sleeve hung in an +awkward fashion. "Did you ever see anything +so exquisite? Look at the fringe, will +you, and the pattern? I'm going to get Miss +Russell to put her up on exhibition, so the +whole school can have the benefit; it's a +shame to keep it to ourselves!"</p> + +<p>"He! he! he!" went all the girls. "Blanche, +you are too funny for anything!"</p> + +<p>"Where did your mother get it?" asked +another; and this, as Peggy saw with a shock, +was pretty Rose Barclay. "Did the ragman +bring it around, or did she pick it up in the +gutter? Say, Miss Parkins, I wish you'd tell +us, 'cause we all want to know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course we want to know!" cried +Miss Haight. "I'm going to write this very +night, to see if Mumma can't get me one like +it. I never shall be happy till I—"</p> + +<p>That sentence never was finished. The +speaker found her own arm seized in a grip<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +of iron, which forced her to drop the poor +little arm in the blue sleeve. She was forced +back against the wall, and found herself +confronted by a pair of blue eyes blazing with +righteous wrath.</p> + +<p>"How dare you?" cried Peggy Montfort, +in a voice that quivered with rage. "You +mean, cowardly brute, how dare you? Touch +her again, and I'll choke the words down your +throat!"</p> + +<p>Blanche Haight gasped for a moment; indeed, +the whole group was cowed by this +sudden vision of strength and fury. But she +recovered herself in a moment.</p> + +<p>"Well, indeed!" she said. "I should like +to know what this means, Miss Montfort? I +should like to know who gave you authority +to choke people, and abuse them, and call +them names?"</p> + +<p>"You'll find out what it means!" said +Peggy, waiving the second question, and replying +to the first. "If you touch that child +again, or so much as speak to her, I'll choke +you."</p> + +<p>"Girls, do you hear this?" cried Blanche<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +Haight. "Are you going to stand by, and +let this girl ride over us?"</p> + +<p>"Shame!" cried the girls. "Bully!"</p> + +<p>"Bully!" cried Peggy, dropping her hold +of Miss Haight, and turning to face the others. +"You call me a bully, and you yourselves, +eight great grown girls, standing around to +torment and torture this poor helpless child? +Shame on you! Shame on you all, every one! +I'm ashamed to be in the same school with +you. I—" (Here, I am sorry to say, Peggy +forgot that she was a young lady, forgot +everything save that she was the daughter of +hot-blooded James Montfort.) "I could whip +the whole lot of you, and I'll do it if you +dare to say 'Boo!' but you don't!"</p> + +<p>It was a fact that no one did say "Boo!" +There was a pause, Peggy standing with folded +arms before the shrinking child, her whole +figure dilated with passion, till she seemed +to tower above the rest, who for their part +cowered before her.</p> + +<p>Rose Barclay was the first to speak.</p> + +<p>"We are very fortunate to find a leader +for the freshman class," she said, spitefully,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +"and such a leader! Miss Montfort is too +high-toned to help a classmate with her lesson, +but not too high-toned to talk like a Bowery +rowdy. Come, along, girls! I for one don't +care to listen to any more such refined, elegant +talk!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you'd better go along!" said Peggy, +the Valkyr, briefly.</p> + +<p>"Pray, may I ask," said Blanche Haight, +with a bitter sneer, "are you monitor of this +corridor?"</p> + +<p>"No," said a voice behind her; "but I am."</p> + +<p>A girl had come quietly up the stairs, and +was now standing close beside the excited +group, none of whom had seen or heard her,—a +tall girl, with red-gold hair, dressed as if +she had just come from a journey.</p> + +<p>"I am the monitor of this corridor," she +repeated. "Please go to your rooms, or I +shall be obliged to report you."</p> + +<p>The girls shrunk together, whispering, the +freshmen questioning the sophomores.</p> + +<p>"Who is it? Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"Hush! It's the junior president. Come +along!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + +<p>The group melted away; another moment, +and all were gone save Peggy, who was now +on the floor, with her arms around the little +miserable creature, who still shrank close +against the wall, as if her life depended +on the contact.</p> + +<p>"There, dear!" she cried. "They are +gone. Come! Don't huddle up so, you poor +little thing. Those brutes are gone, and +there's nobody here but me, Peggy, and—" +she glanced up at the tall girl. "Oh! won't +you help me?" she cried. "I think—she +doesn't seem to hear what I am saying. Oh, +is she dead?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the monitor. "I think she has +fainted, though, poor little soul! We must +carry her to her room. Do you know where +it is? I have only just come back, and don't +know where the freshmen are."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't know, but I'll take her to my +room; I'm in No. 18. Oh, I can carry her +alone; she's all skin and bone; she doesn't +weigh anything."</p> + +<p>The little figure in the staring poplin gown +hung quite limp, as Peggy lifted it. "You'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +better let me help," said the tall girl, kindly. +"We can make her more comfortable; so!"</p> + +<p>Together they carried her to Peggy's room, +and laid her on the bed. It was really more +fright and distress than actual fainting, for +she soon opened her eyes, and looked eagerly +at Peggy, but closed them again with a faint +cry, at sight of the stranger.</p> + +<p>"You needn't be afraid of her!" cried +Peggy, eagerly. "She isn't one of them; +she's none of that horrid crowd. I don't +know who you are," she said, "but I'm ever +and ever and ever so much obliged to you. I +don't know whether you heard what they +were saying."</p> + +<p>And she poured out an indignant account +of the cruelty she had witnessed and put +a stop to. The stranger's eyes were stern +enough, as she listened. "I heard only the +end of it," she said, briefly, "but where I see +Blanche Haight, I am never surprised at anything +cruel or cowardly. I am very glad to +know you; it was a mercy that you happened +to come along just then. I hope we shall be +friends, Miss—is it Miss Montfort?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, that I will!" cried Peggy, responding +with all her warm heart to the sweet +smile and the lovely look in the clear blue +eyes. "Oh, I should like to ever so much; +but I don't know your name, do I?"</p> + +<p>The stranger smiled again. "They call +me the Snowy Owl," she said, "but my name +is Gertrude Merryweather."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE OWL'S NEST.</h3> + + +<p>When Peggy escorted Lobelia Parkins back +to her room, she found that it was the one +directly above her own. Point for point, the +rooms were alike, fire-escape and all,—so far +as the actual outlines were concerned; there, +however, the likeness ended. There had been +no Uncle John, no Margaret, in this case. +The room was furnished, evidently, by the +same hand that had dressed the girl, and with +equal taste. The carpet on the floor was +costly, but hideous as staring colours and +execrable design could make it. The furniture +was cumbrous, and the fact that the +ugly chairs were rosewood, and their cushions +brocade, made them neither beautiful nor +comfortable. On the bureau were some bottles +of red Bohemian glass, such as were thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +handsome fifty years ago; an elephant of a +writing-desk, staring with plush and gilding, +almost covered the table. Altogether, the +room was as desolate as its occupant; more +could not be said. Lobelia seemed smaller +and more shrunken than ever amid all this +tasteless display; she seemed conscious of it, +too, as she gazed piteously at Peggy. She +had been crying, in a furtive, frightened way; +and, gazing at her, Peggy felt that it must be +years ago that she was crying, too, and hoping +for nothing in the world save to get to her +room and have a good solid deluge of tears. +At present it seemed hardly likely that she +should ever weep again; she felt strong and +confident, and was still burning with indignation, +none the less hotly that the outward +flame had gone down. Her kind companion +had been obliged to leave them, with the +promise of seeing them soon again. Peggy +thought she might stay a few minutes, though +the gong for gym had already rung.</p> + +<p>"Now, Lobelia," she was saying,—"I am +going to call you Lobelia, you know, and you +are to call me Peggy, and we are going to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +friends. Now, Lobelia, mind what I say! if +those girls ever give you any more trouble, +you are to come straight to me. Do you +hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lobelia, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Have they tormented you before? Beasts! +Or was this the first time?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not—not so much!" said the girl, +deprecatingly. "A little yesterday; but—I +don't know whether they meant to be +unkind, Peggy. I know that my dress <i>is</i> +queer!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be so meek!" cried Peggy, unable +to repress a little stamp of her foot, which +made Lobelia start. "Have some spirit of +your own, Lobelia. I tell you, these girls +are mean, cowardly wretches, not fit for girls +like the Owls to speak to. They don't speak +to them much, either," she added, "and I'm +not going to any more than I can help."</p> + +<p>Lobelia looked more miserable than ever. +"Don't!" she said. "I can't bear to have +any one get into trouble on my account. It—it +needn't matter to you, Peggy. Of course +you are very, very kind, and I think I should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +have died if you had not come along just +then, for I couldn't seem to bear much more; +but I don't want you to get into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Who's going to get into trouble?" demanded +Peggy. "Guess I can take care of +myself against such a set as that."</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to get into trouble!" +repeated Lobelia; and, as she spoke, she +glanced around the room with a peculiar +shrinking look, one would say a look of dread, +that Peggy did not understand.</p> + +<p>"Who's next door to you?" she asked, +briefly. "Rose Barclay, for one, I know. Who +is on the other side?"</p> + +<p>Lobelia thought it was another freshman, +but was not sure.</p> + +<p>"Have they troubled you?" asked Peggy, +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>But Lobelia shook her head, and seemed so +distressed at the question that Peggy did not +know what to think.</p> + +<p>"Please, please don't bother about me!" +she implored. "I dare say it will be a good +deal better now, after you and Miss +Merryweather being so brave and so kind. I don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +want to say anything against anybody. Please, +please forget all about it, Peggy."</p> + +<p>"I want you to be brave yourself," cried +Peggy; and Lobelia started again, and shrank +in her chair. "Don't be so—so—well, I +don't know any word but meeching, and +Margaret won't let me say that. But have +a spirit of your own, and stand up to them, +and give 'em as good as they send. I would, +I tell you, quick enough, if they tried it on +me."</p> + +<p>Lobelia looked at her with hopeless eyes. +"But I am not you!" she said. "I—Peggy, +I know just how I look, and how I seem, and +how little and ugly and queer I am. I don't +wonder they laugh, I don't, really. I haven't +any spirit, either; I can't have. You can't +do anything with me; it isn't any use."</p> + +<p>Peggy gazed at her, with eyes almost as +hopeless as her own. Yet she must make one +more attempt; and with it the honest blood +came into her face.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Lobelia!" she said, "I am awkward, +too, and shy, and—and stupid, awfully +stupid. Why, my cousin Rita used to call me—never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +mind, that was only before she grew +so kind! But I know what it is to be laughed +at, my dear! Only this morning, in rhetoric, +Miss Pugsley was just as hateful as she could +be, and all the girls laughed; yes, they did. +So you are not so different as you think. +Why,—I don't mind telling you,—when I +came along just now, I was trying to get to +my own room, so that I could have a good +cry. There, Lobelia! now how do you +feel?" Lobelia raised her eyes with a +wondering look; but next moment her eyes fell +on the looking-glass and she shook her +head.</p> + +<p>"No!" she said. "No, Peggy! You are +kind, and you want to make me feel comfortable; +but look!"</p> + +<p>She motioned toward the mirror. Peggy +looked, and her kind heart sank. She herself +was no beauty; her round, fair face and +honest blue eyes were pleasant to look at, +and she had beautiful hair, but that was all; +yet she could not help seeing that she was a +very vision of loveliness beside the sallow, +puny, almost deformed aspect of her poor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +little neighbour. She coloured deep with +angry sympathy, but Lobelia only smiled, a +wan little smile.</p> + +<p>"You see!" she said. "It's no use, +Peggy."</p> + +<p>For all answer, Peggy threw her arms +around the shrinking figure, and pressed it in +a warm embrace. "I don't care!" she cried. +"I don't say you are pretty, you poor little +thing, but just remember that you are my +friend, and if anybody dares to meddle with +you again, they'll have to reckon with +me, that's all. And now I must go, or I +shall lose all the drill. Cheer up, Lobelia, +and don't sit here and mope, mind! and if +you have any more trouble, just knock on +the floor, and I'll be up in half a quarter of +a jiffy. Good-bye, dear!" and off she ran, +feeling that at least she had left some degree +of comfort and cheer behind her.</p> + +<p>Soon, however, came something that put +Lobelia Parkins and her troubles out of Peggy's +head for the time. Bertha Haughton +was not at the gymnasium, but when Peggy +came back to her own room after an hour of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +rapture, she found a note pinned on her +pincushion.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Peggy</span>:—Study <i>hard</i>, please, and get +through before this evening. The Snowy Owl is +going to give us a Grand Tell about the wedding +she has been to, and we both want you to come, too. +I'm going to speak to Miss Russell, but you'd better +ask her, too; it will be all right, for the Snowy has +asked permission, anyhow. Eight o'clock, just after +reading; be sure to come on time!</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 4em;">"Affectionately,</span><br /> +"<span class="smcap">Bertha</span>."<br /> +</div></div> + +<p>It was hard to study through that lovely +afternoon, when the other girls, or most of +them, were out-of-doors, playing tennis or +basket-ball, and their voices came in at the +window in every tone of joyousness and delight. +It was very hard to study the detested +rhetoric and history, but Peggy was strong in +her good resolve, and bent steadily over her +books, trying her very best. Once, indeed, +came a sore temptation, when a ball struck +her window lightly, and, going to look out, +she saw Grace Wolfe standing below.</p> + +<p>"Come out, Innocent!" said the Scapegoat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +in her deep, musical tones. "Come and sport +with me!</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"The ship is ready and the wind blows fair,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And I am bound for the sea, Mary Anne!"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Oh! Oh, thank you!" cried Peggy. "I +wish I could, but I have to work now, I'm +afraid."</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Is this a time to think o' wark,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Wi' Scapegoat at the door?"</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>inquired Grace, looking up with her head on +one side. "Why work at this hour, Innocent? +Even the slaves of virtue, even the Owls, are +at play now."</div> + +<p>Peggy leaned out of the window; it really +seemed as if her body would be drawn out +after her longing spirit, which had been +out and away from the first summons.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the Owls!" she said. "That's just +it, Miss Wolfe."</p> + +<p>"No!" interrupted Grace. "Not Miss +Wolfe! Not all Æsop! Impossible to be +wolf and goat at the same time, and do justice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +to either character. Let it be Goat, or +Grace, as you like."</p> + +<p>"Grace, then, thank you! Well, you see, +the Owls,—that is, Bertha asked me to come +to their room this evening, and of course I +want to dreadfully,—though not more dreadfully +than I want to come out now," she +added, wistfully. "And if I do, you see, I must +get my rhetoric done. It's awfully hard, and +I am so stupid about it, it takes me for ever. +Oh, will you ask me again some time, +please?"</p> + +<p>The Scapegoat regarded her for a moment, +standing with the ball in her hand, swaying +her light, graceful body to and fro.</p> + +<p>"Another slave of virtue?" she said. "Can +I permit this? Innocent, I have half a mind +to cause you to come down. I am to be +thrown over for owls, who have, if you will +consider the matter, neither horns nor hoofs? +I am to let you stay and grind through +the afternoon for them and for my Puggy? +Well—"</p> + +<p>Her whole face seemed to lighten with +whimsical determination. She laid her hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +on the fire-escape, and seemed on the point of +mounting it, when suddenly another change +came over her. Her eyes darkened into their +usual melancholy look.</p> + +<p>"Here's luck!" she said, abruptly. "See +you later, Innocent!" She was gone, and +Peggy, with a revulsion of feeling, wished +she had gone with her. Bertha was a dear, +and Miss Merryweather looked lovely, but +neither of them had the fascination of this +strange girl, so unlike any one she had ever +seen in her life.</p> + +<p>It was a forlorn afternoon; but Peggy +stuck to her work manfully, and had the +satisfaction of closing the book at last with +the feeling that she was sure of it now, however +things might be in the morning under +Miss Pugsley's hostile eye.</p> + +<p>There was still a little time left before +supper. She ran out to the lawn, hoping to +find Grace Wolfe still there, but she was +disappointed. The only occupants of the +lawn were half a dozen sophomores clustered +together at one end. Blanche Haight was +among them, and at sight of Peggy she turned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +her back pointedly, and whispered to the +others. They turned with one accord and +stared at Peggy, with a cool insolence that +made her blood boil within her and surge up +in angry red to her forehead. She could not +do anything about it; they had a right to +stare, if they had no better manners. She +returned the look for a moment, then turned +away with a sore and angry heart. Fortunately, +at this moment came out two classmates +of her own whom she knew slightly,—mild, +pleasant girls, with no special traits of +interest, but still friendly and approachable. +They were going to play tennis, and invited +Peggy to join them; so she had a good half-hour +of exercise and pleasure, and came in +with rosy cheeks, and with the cobwebs all +blown away for the time.</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock Peggy was standing before +her glass, putting a last touch to her hair, +and surveying her image with some anxiety. +Did she "look nice?" Peggy had as little +personal vanity as a girl could well have; but +she had learned from her cousin Margaret +that it was part of her duty to look as well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +as she could. Her cousin Rita would have +had her go further than this.</p> + +<p>"Study, my child," Rita would cry, "to +be beautiful! Let it be your dream by night, +your thought by day!" And, in all kindness, +Rita would try to teach her how to cross her +feet so that they might look slender, how to +extend her little finger when she raised her +hand, "not too much, but to an exact point, +<i>chérie!</i>" how to turn her head so as to +show the lines of the neck to advantage. But +Peggy's own good sense, aided by Margaret's +calm wisdom, had told her the inappropriateness +of Rita's graceful airs and poses to her +own sturdy personality. She was to look +nice; more she could not aspire to. So here +she was to-night, in a pretty blue silk waist, +with a serge skirt of a darker shade, her hair +smoothly braided in one mammoth "pigtail," +and tied with blue ribbons, her neat collar +fastened with a pretty pearl brooch. Thus +attired, our Peggy was truly pleasant to look +upon; and her "Is that right, Margaret?" +brought a little satisfied nod of reply from +the smiling image in the glass.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p> + +<p>Drawing near the Owl's Nest, she heard a +hum of voices, and straightway her heart +sank again, and shyness possessed her. There +was a crowd there! They would all be +juniors and seniors, and she the only freshman +among them. How could she go in? Oh! +she almost wished she was up in the other +corridor with the younger girls!</p> + +<p>But at this moment the door opened, and +Bertha's kind face looked out.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, Peggy!" she cried, cordially. +"Come along; there's plenty of room, +for I've saved a place for you. Come!"</p> + +<p>For a moment Peggy hung back, and knew +how Lobelia Parkins felt; then she made an +effort, and followed Bertha into the room.</p> + +<p>The Owl's Nest was a corner room, with +windows on two sides. It seemed to be furnished +chiefly with books. There were the +two brass beds, of course, the twin bureaus, +the desks, and table. All of these, except +the beds, were covered with books; bookshelves +took up most of the wall space, though +there were two or three good pictures, among +them a great photograph of the sea, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +almost dashed the spray in one's face, so perfect +was it. It was at a later visit that Peggy +observed the books; now, she was conscious +of nothing save the girls. The room was +certainly full of them. There were three on +each bed, curled up in every variety of picturesque +and comfortable attitude; two sat +on one of the bureaus, having pushed books +and toilet articles up into a toppling and +highly perilous mountain behind them; four +more crouched somehow on the rather narrow +window-seats. The rest were on the floor, +except two early birds, who had come in time +to get the two chairs. The floor was made +comfortable with sofa-pillows, borrowed from +the whole length of the corridor. Altogether, +there might have been twenty girls in the +room, and every girl was, or seemed to be, +talking as fast as her tongue could move.</p> + +<p>Peggy was hailed with a bird-like call from +one corner.</p> + +<p>"My Veezy-vee! come here, Peggy Montfort, +and sit by me."</p> + +<p>It was Viola Vincent. She was curled up +at the head of one of the beds. She wore the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +prettiest pink tea-gown imaginable, and her +hair was a wonder of puffs and curls.</p> + +<p>"Come here!" she repeated, patting the +pillows. "Lots of room; miles! Let her +come here, Fluffy!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she shall, in a minute, V.," replied +Bertha. "But first,—Toots, here's Peggy +Montfort!"</p> + +<p>The Snowy Owl came swiftly out of the +closet, where she had been performing some +mystic rite; she took Peggy's two hands in +hers, and held them in a warm, firm grasp +that was the very soul of cordiality.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad!" she said. "How's the poor +little thing? Better? I'm sure you did her +a great deal of good."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" stammered Peggy, pleased and +confused. "I couldn't really do anything; +but she is feeling better."</p> + +<p>Gertrude Merryweather nodded wisely. +"My dear, you can do a great deal for her!" +she said. "We'll have a talk sometime; no +chance now. Only, Bertha has been telling +me things, and I'm so glad you are in our +street! There, now V. shall have you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> + +<p>Judge of the glow at Peggy's heart, on +these words from the Junior President, the +best-loved girl—or so it was said—in the +whole school. Those foolish tears actually +got half-way up to her eyes,—only they were +very different from the last tears; but fortunately +Viola's high-pitched babble drove them +back again.</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear!</i> How nice you look! perf'ly +<i>fine!</i> doesn't she, V.? Say, that's a dandy +pin you've got on, simply <i>dandy!</i> There! +isn't this too quaint for anything? You +comfy? so'm I! Room, my dear? gallons of +room! I haven't seen you for an age; where +have you kept yourself? I looked into your +room, though, and it's perf'ly <i>fine!</i> I told +you it would be, when you had things fixed. +Your chintz is too perfectly sweet for anything; +isn't it, V.? We were simply cold +with envy, weren't we, V.?"</p> + +<p>"Do cackle for yourself, if you must cackle, +V.!" responded Vivia Varnham, who sat on +the same bed, a little lower down. "I can't +hear myself think, you make such a noise."</p> + +<p>"No, really?" cried Viola. "But that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +must be such an advantage sometimes, V. +But, say! we came here to hear the Snowy +talk, didn't we? She hasn't had much chance +yet, has she? Are you ready to talk, Snowy? +Oh, you duck! it is too perfectly enchanting +to have you back again. I haven't lived since +you went away, have I, V.? I've been simply +a vegetable, haven't I, V.? Potatoes, my +dear, are lively compared to me. <i>Are</i> you +ready to talk, Snowy?"</p> + +<p>"If you are ready to have me," replied the +Snowy Owl, laughing. "First, however—here!"</p> + +<p>She produced a mammoth box of "marshmallows," +and handed it around. It was +received with a shout.</p> + +<p>"Toast 'em!" cried one. "Hat-pins!" +cried another. There was a movement toward +the gas-jet; but Bertha Haughton checked it +decidedly. "You have come here to hear the +Snowy tell!" she said. "It's a long tell, and +if you begin toasting now, there won't be +time. Tell first, toast afterward! that's what +I say!"</p> + +<p>"Hark to the Fluffy! she speaks well!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +cried the girls. There was silence; and +Gertrude Merryweather, sitting on the floor, +with her hands clasped around her knees, +began her "tell."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs04.png" width="500" height="336" alt="THE GRAND TELL IN THE OWL'S NEST." title="THE GRAND TELL IN THE OWL'S NEST." /> +<span class="caption">THE GRAND TELL IN THE OWL'S NEST.</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>WEDDING BELLS.</h3> + + +<p>"To begin with, girls, this is Fluffy's idea, +not mine! Of course none of you ever saw +our Hildegarde, so I didn't suppose you would +care particularly; but when I was telling the +Fluffy last night, she said it was selfish and +all kinds of things to keep it to ourselves, +and that you must all hear about it; so if you +don't find it interesting, pull out the Fluffy's +feathers, not mine.</p> + +<p>"Hildegarde Grahame—she is Hildegarde +Merryweather now, but I cannot realise it yet—has +been a very dear friend of ours for +several years. We think there is no one like +her in the world; I'll show you a picture of +her by and by. Well, a year ago she became +engaged to my uncle."</p> + +<p>"Your uncle!" cried the girls. "Why, I +thought she was a girl!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So she is a girl, but Roger—well, he is +my uncle, but he isn't so very much older +than I am. That is—he is twenty-five, and +Hildegarde is twenty; so you see it is just +exactly right. There isn't anybody like him, +either. He is as near an angel as a man can +come and be alive; and he is tremendously +clever, really eminent already in his profession, +and we all love him to distraction."</p> + +<p>"Is he handsome?" asked Viola Vincent.</p> + +<p>"I don't know; yes, I think he is. Not a +barber-shop beauty, though. He is tall, and +very strong, broad-shouldered, with the kindest +eyes in the world, and a smile that makes +you crinkle all over with pleasure. Well, +and so they were engaged, and now they are +married; the wedding was on Wednesday, +and this is Friday, and here I am. Now I'll +begin at the very beginning of the day. Of +course we woke up early, and looked out of +the window; and it was all gray and cloudy. +I thought it was going to rain, and I was in +the depths, but Bell—you know Bell, my +sister, at college—was sure it would clear +before seven, and so it did. The sun came<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +out bright and clear, and soon we saw that it +was going to be the most beautiful day that +ever was. We had been out in the fields all +day before, getting flowers, and we had them +all ready in tubs and bowls and pitchers; so +after breakfast we could go right to work on +the decorations. We did the church first. +It is a pretty stone church, with a good +deep chancel. We filled in the back of the +chancel with great ferns—mostly evergreen +ferns, so that they would not wilt—and +palms and things; and then we made banks +and banks of asters and goldenrod,—oh, it +was lovely! Most of them came from the +camp-pasture, Bertha; you remember how +lovely it is in September."</p> + +<p>Bertha nodded. "I should think I did!" +she said. "Most beautiful place I ever saw, +except the rest of it all."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never saw it look more beautiful +than that day before the wedding, when Bell +and the boys and I rode out on our wheels, +and came back by moonlight, with great +bundles of purple and gold tied on our backs +and nodding over our heads. But all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +ferns and the asters and chrysanthemums +and roses came mostly from Hildegarde's own +garden at Braeside, and from Roseholme, Colonel +Ferrers's place. We might have carpeted +the church entirely with asters, if we had +wanted to; as it was, we had great garlands +of them twined over the chancel rail and +swinging among the ferns and goldenrod; +really, I never saw so many flowers at one +time in my life. When that was all done we +went to the house, Braeside, the Grahames' +house, to see if we could help there; but Mrs. +Flower, a friend of Hildegarde's, of whom we +used to be the least little bit jealous before +we knew her, was there, and another friend, +Miss Desmond,—she was one of the bridesmaids,—and +they had everything so beautifully +arranged that there was nothing for us +to do but stand and admire it with all our +eyes. People in New York had sent down all +kinds of splendid flowers, boxes and boxes of +them, so that the house was a perfect bower, +and smelt like the Vale of Cashmere; but we +knew very well that Hilda would like our +flowers best. Then—well, a lot more presents<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +had come since the night before, so as +there was time enough before dressing, we +went in to see them. I don't suppose you +care about the presents, girls!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh! we do!" cried the girls, in chorus. +"We want to hear about every single one, +Snowy."</p> + +<p>"My dears! it would take me all night, +and then I couldn't remember them all. But +I'll try and tell you some of them. Let me +see! Colonel Ferrers gave her a set of sapphires; +the most beautiful things you ever +saw. Necklace and pendant and pin, most +wonderful dark blue stones, set in star-shape. +And Jack Ferrers and his father gave her +some wonderful Roman gold-work—I don't +know how to describe it, I never saw anything +like it—that Jack picked up in Europe. +Then there was silver, heaps and heaps of it, +from relatives in New York and I don't know +where; some of it very handsome indeed, but +I don't care so much about silver, do you? +I remember there were ten salt-cellars, no two +alike. But the things we cared for were the +small presents that came from people we knew;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +people who loved Hildegarde, not just because +she was their grandniece or something, +but because she was herself. Oh, some of +them were funny, girls! There were two +dear old people who had come a long way to +the wedding, a Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, with +whom Hilda spent a summer when she was +about fifteen, and whom she has been fond of +ever since. I should think she would be; the +old lady has a face like Raphael's grandmother—I +can't think of any other way of +describing it; and Mr. Hartley is simply a +duck, the dearest funny old man you ever +saw. Well, they brought Hilda the most +beautiful toilet-set I ever saw or dreamed +of,—something wonderful, all blue dragons +and gilding. Papa said it was very rare; +and Hilda cried when she saw it, and scolded +them dreadfully for bringing it away from its +own room; but still she was delighted to have +it, and says she will never use any other. +Then there was young Doctor Chirk,—funny +name, isn't it?—Mrs. Flower's brother. Such +a nice, bright, jolly fellow! Well, he was part +of that same summer, it seems, and he carved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +a beautiful frame out of wood that grew in +Hartley's Glen; and Mrs. Flower, who paints +very well, had made a picture of the glen +itself—lovely place!—for the frame, or I +suppose the frame was made to fit the picture, +no matter which; and <i>that</i> filled her +with joy.</p> + +<p>"Then there were the people from Bywood. +My dear, Miss Wealthy Bond is the most +beautiful creature I have ever seen, except +two. She is just like live Dresden china, +smiling and dimpling; and the dear quaint +maid who came with her, Martha, had made +Hildegarde's whole winter provision of jellies +and jams, because 'it wasn't likely Hildegarde +would have time herself this first season, +and it wasn't a thing you could trust to +hired help in general.' Miss Bond herself +had brought china—my dear! did you ever +see tortoise-shell crockery? Well, it is a most +beautiful thing, and the art was lost a hundred +years ago, and each piece is worth I don't +know how much; but this dear old lady had +a dozen plates, all hexagonal, too, and not a +single point broken or chipped, and two pitchers,—well,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +I haven't the heart even to think +of those pitchers, I wanted them so,—and +they were all for Hilda, because Hilda had +brought the sunshine back into her life, she +told me.</p> + +<p>"Girls, it was the same story everywhere. +Mrs. Grahame being so delicate, and Hilda so +busy, Bell and I were there a great deal the +few days before the wedding, and we took the +guests to walk and drive and so on. Everywhere +it was the same story, the joy and +brightness and love that this one girl had +carried with her wherever she went. I never +shall forget it—never.</p> + +<p>"Then—let me see—what next? Oh! I +had nearly forgotten the dear little boy, Benny, +Miss Bond's adopted son. He considers Hilda +his own private property, and he was furiously +jealous of Roger and everybody else. When +he first came it was quite sad, really, the child +was so unhappy, and there was no consoling +him. He wanted Hilda to sing to him and +play with him just as she did when she was +staying there at Bywood; and naturally she +couldn't, poor dear, though it was wonderful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +how she managed to be with them all a little +every day, and to see to almost everything, so +that her mother should have no care or worry. +Well, where was I? oh! the little boys. +Hugh Allen, our Hugh,—I can't stop to +tell you about Hugh now, but he is the dearest, +queerest little fellow,—Hugh watched +all this for awhile, and then he took Benny +away with him, down into the garden, and +they were gone a long time. And when they +came back Benny marched straight up to +Roger, and said, 'You are nice! you can have +my girl,' and then marched off again, and +went and cried, poor lamb, till Hugh comforted +him.</p> + +<p>"But I am not getting on with the presents, +am I? We all gave her linen, because she +had to have that, and we wanted to do something +ourselves; so we, my mother and Bell +and Kitty and I, hemmed every one of the +table-cloths and napkins, and embroidered the +marks on all the towels, and had a beautiful +time over it. Mammy read to us part of the +time while we sewed, all the interesting weddings +that she could find in history or fiction,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +and that was great fun; then she wrote some +funny verses to go with them, and they really +were lovely patterns, so it was a nice present, +though strictly necessary, you see. Oh, I +haven't told you about the diamonds! Helena +Desmond was so funny about them! 'Hilda,' +she said, 'it was clear from the beginning that +I must be offered up on the altar of diamonds. +I detest diamonds. They are absolutely uninteresting; +they are almost vulgar. Never +mind, you have to have some, and nobody +else will be stupid and commonplace enough +to give them to you. I had hopes of your +Aunt Emily, but she has expended herself in +lace, and was so happy over it that I hadn't +the heart to whisper "diamonds!" in her ear, +as I had meant to do. Here they are, my +child; the customary horrors!'</p> + +<p>"Well, they were very beautiful, though I +confess I should have liked pearls better for +Hilda. A diamond crescent and star, really +splendid. She is very rich, you know."</p> + +<p>"Is that the great beauty?" asked a girl.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is superb, certainly. Next to +Hilda, perhaps—but I'll come to that presently.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +Well, now perhaps I have told you +half the things, or rather more than half; but +they are the things I cared most about, you +see. I can't go into a list of forks and spoons. +So now I come to the wedding itself."</p> + +<p>The girls drew a long breath and leaned +forward; presents were very well, but weddings +were better.</p> + +<p>"It was at noon, of course. There were +only two bridesmaids, Helena Desmond and +I. Hilda said she wanted only her nearest +and dearest, so she would not ask her cousins, +though I fancy they had hoped to be asked. +She wanted Bell, but Bell said it was positively +necessary that she should play the organ, +and so it was. We wore perfectly plain white +muslin gowns, but, oh, they were so pretty! +with soft pale green sashes, and little wreaths +of ivy in our hair. Hildegarde wanted everything +as simple as possible, so we didn't go +into hats, or any of that kind of nonsense. +Jerry—my brother Gerald—was best man, +and the ushers were Phil and Willy, my other +brothers, and Jack Ferrers and Doctor Chirk +and Hugh Allen. Well, so the hour came.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Helena and I were ready and waiting at +Braeside when Hilda came down-stairs. Girls, +you never saw anything so lovely in your +lives as she was. Her dress was very simple, +too, white embroidered muslin, exquisitely +fine. Colonel Ferrers brought it from India, +years and years ago, for a lovely young girl +who died while he was on his way home. It +had been made in the house, and it looked +just like her, as her dresses always do. She +wore a little gold pin that Roger made for her +himself,—mined the gold and all,—no other +ornament, and a wreath of white roses, roses +that the Roseholme gardener had been nursing +all summer to make them blossom just at +the right time. That was his present; everybody +wanted to do something, you see."</p> + +<p>"What does she look like?" asked a girl.</p> + +<p>"Well, you have to see her to know what +she really looks like, for half of it is the expression +and the look in her eyes. Gray eyes, +so clear and true,—you know she couldn't +say or do anything unkind or false to save +her life,—and a colour just like a wild rose, +and a nose,—well, it's just her own nose,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +tilted up a little, but perfectly delightful; and +when she smiles, you think she has the most +beautiful mouth in the world, though I don't +suppose she really has. Here, this gives you +a little idea of her; just a very little, for it +doesn't begin to think of doing her justice."</p> + +<p>The girls clustered eagerly to see the photograph, +which was passed on from hand to +hand. It was a lovely face, indeed, at which +they looked; yet, as Gertrude said, the actual +beauty was the least part of its charm. Truth +and kindness shone from it; not the lightest +and most foolish girl there but felt grave for +a moment, meeting that steady look of cheer +and constancy.</p> + +<p>"And yet she looks awfully jolly, too!" +said one, breaking the silence, and voicing +the thought of all.</p> + +<p>"My dear, she is more fun—"</p> + +<p>"Than a goat?" asked a new voice; and +Grace Wolfe slipped in quietly at the window, +and, nodding to the company, took her seat +on the floor.</p> + +<p>"I have heard all!" she said. "Go on, +Snowy! I see now where you got your virtues;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +this young woman has much to answer +for."</p> + +<p>Gertrude looked at her kindly, but said +nothing; in a moment the story went on.</p> + +<p>"We walked over to the church—it is +only a few steps—just as we were, without +any formal arrangement. Hilda held her +mother's hand fast all the time; they were +both very quiet. The dear old black cook +walked with them, crying all the way. Hugh +had Hilda's other hand. I—I can't tell about +this part."</p> + +<p>Gertrude's voice faltered for a moment; +then she went on more steadily.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Ferrers was waiting at the church +door, with his brother, Mr. Raymond Ferrers. +All the ushers were there, too, and we could +see that the church was full. And, oh! just +a little way from the door was a band of little +girls, Hilda's sewing-class, and they all had +baskets of flowers, and scattered them in front +of her as she walked. I forgot to put that in +where it belonged, but it was very pretty, and +if you had seen the way they looked at her!</p> + +<p>"Well, then it all seemed to happen in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +a moment. Mr. Raymond Ferrers took Mrs. +Grahame up the aisle; and then the organ +broke out with the wedding march. I have +heard my sister Bell play pretty well, but +never as she did then. It seemed to fill the +whole world, and yet it was not too loud, +either. Then the ushers went up, and then +Helena and I, and then came our dear bride +on Colonel Ferrers' arm. Roger was waiting +at the altar steps with Gerald. He came +forward to meet her, and took both her +hands,—oh, with such a beautiful look in +his face! and then drew her arm through his, +so proud and quiet and happy, and then the +service went on. They both spoke so clearly, +everybody could hear them, and the ring was +ready, and there was not a mistake anywhere; +only both Jerry and the colonel were on the +point of breaking down, both of them, and +every time the colonel blew his nose I could +see Jerry start and wince. And so they were +married, and the music broke out again, and +Roger put back the veil and kissed his wife; +and—and then they came back down the +aisle, and—and—and that is all!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gertrude had struggled hard for composure. +She had nearly outgrown the childish proneness +to tears, which in early days had earned +her the home sobriquet of "Chelsea Waterworks;" +but this recital touched her too +nearly, and she had overcalculated her power +of self-restraint. Her voice broke altogether, +and she could only nod and smile through +her tears on Bertha, who was regarding her +remorsefully.</p> + +<p>"I ought not to have made you, Toots!" +said Bertha. "I did want them to hear it, +it has been so beautiful. Don't cry, dear!" +But Grace Wolfe came and laid her hand on +Gertrude's shoulder, and spoke in a tone one +hardly ever heard in that voice.</p> + +<p>"Don't stop her!" she said, gravely. "Let +her cry! It's good for her—and for all of +us! Snowy, your friend is a blessed creature, +and you are another."</p> + +<p>No one spoke for a few moments. Peggy +was crying quietly in her corner, and feeling +that she had been at the wedding herself, and +wondering what she should possibly do if +Margaret should ever get married.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>But now the Snowy Owl wiped away her +tears in good earnest, and spoke in her own +cheerful tones.</p> + +<p>"Come, this will never do. Girls, we +have extra time to-night, Miss Russell was +so kind when I told her what I wanted to +do; but even that time will be up if we +don't mind. Volunteers to toast marshmallows!"</p> + +<p>Instantly there was a rush and a cry. A +dozen hands were stretched out. Hat-pins +appeared, as if by magic, brandished on every +side. In another moment a dozen marshmallows +were frizzling over the gas-jets, while +the student lamp did duty for several more. +As soon as one was done, it was popped, hissing +hot, into an open mouth, and the hat-pin, +charged with another freight, returned to the +charge. Cries of mingled joy and anguish +rose on every side.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am burnt entirely! The skin is all +off my lips."</p> + +<p>"Here, for me one!"</p> + +<p>"No, she has had two already! Fluffy, my +turn next!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a merry Babel. The fun rose higher +and higher. Peggy dried her eyes, and looked +on wondering. How could they hear each +other? They were all talking at once, each +one faster than the other.</p> + +<p>"My dear! Perf'ly fine, wasn't it? Oh, +I do love to hear a tell—"</p> + +<p>"When my cousin was married, she had +eight bridesmaids, and they wore just mob +caps, not another thing—"</p> + +<p>"Orange-blossoms are too sweet for anything, +but they make some people—"</p> + +<p>"Simply pea-green, my dear, with fright, +and she had blue woollen socks on over her +white slippers—'something blue,' you know,—and +forgot to take them off—"</p> + +<p>"Her head, and you never saw anything +like it in your life. It measured three yards +around, if it did—"</p> + +<p>"A sunburst, you know, diamonds and +pearls. I adore diamonds, for my part. +Why, to be married without diamonds would +be—"</p> + +<p>"Simply fierce! I should die, I know I +should, before I got half-way up the aisle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +But to see one, and the music and flowers +and all, is—"</p> + +<p>"Dandy! perf'ly dandy! I wouldn't miss +it for all the—"</p> + +<p>"Flounces, my dear, up to the waist, as +true as I sit here! and she said 'No!' She +said: 'Before I'll be flounced to the waist, +I'll—'"</p> + +<p>"Marry a tin peddler! said there was +nothing in the world she'd like better, because +then she could—"</p> + +<p>"Sit still the whole morning without moving +a muscle, for fear of breaking her—"</p> + +<p>"Heart, with forty pearls and sixty diamonds. +Fact, I assure you, my dear! I had +it from—"</p> + +<p>"A perfect brute, not fit for any one to—"</p> + +<p>Here, Destiny knocked on the door; the +round, rosy face of Miss Carey, the housekeeper, +looked in.</p> + +<p>"Girls, you really must go to bed. Miss +Russell sent me to say so. Do you know +what time it is?"</p> + +<p>Grace Wolfe slipped like a shadow out of +the window and was gone unseen; the assembly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +broke up with laughter and cheers for +the Snowy and the Fluffy, and snatches of +talk bubbling all the way along the corridor. +When Peggy reached her room, she found the +Scapegoat already there, sitting on the floor +and chanting solemnly:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I have nailed my Puggy's slippers<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Down upon her closet floor.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">She may pray with both her flippers,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">But she'll never use them more!"</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>BY MOONLIGHT.</h3> + + +<p>The time went quickly enough at Miss +Russell's. Once the routine established, lesson +followed lesson and day followed day +with amazing rapidity. Before Peggy could +realise that she was fairly settled, a month +had passed. It was not so bad now; in fact, +a good deal of it was very pleasant, she was +obliged to admit. Her geometry was a constantly +progressing joy; so was her anatomy, +and she had the happy consciousness that she +was doing well in both studies. This enabled +her to bear up against the bitterness of rhetoric +and of Miss Pugsley. As for the history, +once equally dreaded, its terrors had nearly +vanished. Miss Cortlandt had a way of making +things so clear that one could not help +remembering them once they were explained. +Furthermore, she managed to invest the lay-figures<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +of dead and gone kings and conquerors +with life and motion. Alexander the Great +was no longer a tiresome person in a book, +who cried in an absurd way when there was +nothing left to conquer. That had always +exasperated Peggy, "because if he had had +any sense, he would have gone on, and found +out for himself what a lot more there was, +that his old books and seers and things had +never found out." But now, she found +Alexander in the first place a boy who +knew about horses, which in itself was a +great thing, and in the second place a man +who knew about a great many other things, +and who acted on his knowledge in a variety +of swift and surprising ways. As with this +hero, so with others, till Peggy came to look +forward, actually, to the history hour; which +shows what a teacher can do when she understands +her girls, and knows enough to call +Plutarch and his peers (if any!) to aid her in +her task.</p> + +<p>But when all was said and done, Peggy +was not cut out for a student; and her happiest +hours were not those of even the pleasantest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +class-room. Basket-ball claimed her +for its own, and she proved an apt and ready +learner in this branch of study. Less swift +than Grace Wolfe, who seemed a thing compact +of steel and gossamer, she was far +stronger to meet an attack, and many a +rush came and passed, and left the stalwart +freshman standing steady and undaunted in +her place.</p> + +<p>The hours of sport brought the two girls +nearer and nearer together; and Peggy found +herself yielding more and more—often against +her own judgment—to the fascination of the +lawless girl, who on her part seemed curiously +drawn to the simple, downright, law-abiding +freshman.</p> + +<p>It was about this time that Peggy found +out why her room had been called Broadway. +The nights were still fine and warm, though +it was now October. Apples were ripe in the +neighbouring orchards; and though it was +perfectly practicable and allowable to buy all +the apples one wanted in the daytime, that +method did not approve itself to the wilder +spirits at Miss Russell's school.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>To slide down the fire-escape, slip across +the lawn, keeping well under the trees by the +edge, and so out into the road and down to +the nearest orchard, only a few rods off,—this +was the true way to get apples, and a very +thrilling way it was. Peggy had been a good +deal startled when the first merry party, with +noiseless steps and stifled giggles, came stealing +into her room, and, nodding to her, made +their way out of the window and down the +fire-escape. It never occurred to her to make +any effort to stop them; they were sophomores, +and she only a freshman. She supposed +it was against the rules, but of course +they would not really do any harm; and oh, +what a good time they would have!</p> + +<p>She looked after them with a sigh, and +wished them luck in her heart, a successful +raid, and a safe return. Indeed, it was not +long before they were back, rosy and breathless, +with baskets and pockets stuffed with +apples. The Fresh Freshman, as Peggy was +called, did not fail to receive her share; and +she ate it with a little thrill of vicarious +guilt which was certainly not unpleasant.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +The two Owls never came with these parties; +and somehow Peggy did not mention +the matter to them, though she saw them +constantly, and loved them always more and +more. Sometimes the expeditions were headed +by Grace Wolfe, in her wildest mood; sometimes +it was Viola Vincent, who came tripping +in with a band of her chosen intimates. Viola +had several times asked Peggy to be of the +party, but Peggy had not gone,—she could +hardly have said why. Why was it that +Grace had never asked her? If she had, +perhaps—</p> + +<p>The night came when Grace did ask her.</p> + +<p>Peggy had been studying as usual, and the +signal for "lights out" came while she was +still at her task. Out went the light, for +Peggy was, as we have said, a law-abiding citizen. +She was groping about, not yet used to +the half-light of the growing moon, when the +door opened, and Grace glided in with her +usual noiseless tread. She laid her hand over +Peggy's mouth without a word, and stood +motionless, seeming to listen. Then she said +aloud and deliberately:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I must go this minute. I had no +idea it was so late. Suppose Miss Pugsley +should catch us! You know she goes around +and listens at the doors every now and then, +and looks through the keyholes to see what +is going on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grace!" said Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Fact, I assure you. I sometimes wonder +what Miss Russell would say if she knew it. +That isn't her own style, you see. The fun +of it is, the other never realises that the +wheeze gives her away every time."</p> + +<p>Grace Wolfe had the ears of a fox; but, in +the pause that followed, even Peggy heard, or +fancied she heard, a breathing outside the +door. It was only for an instant, if, indeed, +it had been at all; yet in another moment +a board creaked somewhere along the +corridor, and again in a moment came the +slight but unmistakable sound of a closing +door.</p> + +<p>Grace laughed, and pirouetted merrily on +one foot, looking in the moonlight like a +glimmering sprite.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grace!" repeated Peggy, aghast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +"Was she—could she have been there, do +you think?"</p> + +<p>"She could very easily have been there. +Innocent," replied the Scapegoat. "Indeed, +she was. I saw the glitter of her eye, and a +sweet thing it was."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but how could you? how dared you? +Surely, you will get into dreadful trouble, +Grace."</p> + +<p>"Not I!" said Grace. "She can't report +me, you observe, without saying that she was +listening at the door. And even if she did, +Miss Russell would ask her what I said, and +she would be sad and sorry to relate that. +No! this time I am safe enough, my Prairie +Flower. But come, now that I am here, shall +we be merry?</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"The owl is abroad, the bat, and the toad,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And so is the catamountain.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Shall the Goat be lacking on such a night +as this, or the Wolf either? One has one's +responsibilities toward one's names. Come, +Innocent, we'll go abroad and celebrate my +victory over my Puggy!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>Grace's tone was as quiet as ever, but she +was more excited than Peggy had ever seen +her. Her eyes shone; her hair, which was +very beautiful, was unbraided for some reason—one +never knew what whim would seize +the whimsical one—and hung like a mantle +about her shoulders. Standing thus, with her +hand on the window, she looked, as I have +said, like a creature from another world.</p> + +<p>"Come!" she repeated; and Peggy had +never heard sweeter music than her voice.</p> + +<p>"Do you—do you think I ought to?" +stammered the freshman, moving toward the +window.</p> + +<p>"One owes it to the catamountain!" cried +Grace. "As for the owls,—well, they will +be abroad!" she added, with a low laugh. +"They would be far enough abroad if they +knew. Come, Innocent!"</p> + +<p>She glided out of the window, and Peggy +followed, her heart beating to suffocation, her +cheeks glowing with excitement. To be chosen +by the Lone Wolf (for this was another of the +wild girl's nicknames, the third being Ishmael) +as the companion of one of her solitary rambles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +was perhaps the most thrilling thing that +had ever come into Peggy's simple life. Probably +she would have had courage to resist an +invitation from any of the frolicsome parties +that came and went through her room; she +had no power to resist this. Silently she followed +the Scapegoat down the iron ladder of +the fire-escape, across the lawn, out into the +open road.</p> + +<p>Grace turned to her with one of her sudden +movements, and took both her hands.</p> + +<p>"The world's before us, where to choose!" +she cried. "What shall it be, Innocent? +Shall we climb up into the tower and ring +the fire-bell? or go for apples? This is your +first expedition, you shall choose."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Grace; please! I don't know. +I cannot. I'll go wherever you go, that's +all!"</p> + +<p>The Scapegoat meditated. "On the whole," +she announced, "soda seems to be the thing. +We'll go and have some soda, Innocent."</p> + +<p>"Go down-town?" gasped Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Yes; why not? Only to Mrs. Button's. +You know she is the college grandmother;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +why shouldn't she be ours? Many's the +time Granny Button has sheltered me from +the wrath to come. Besides, I have had no +marshmallows for a week. A vow, a vow! +I have a vow in heaven to have marshmallows +once a week, merely for the honour +of the school."</p> + +<p>Granny Button, as she was called, kept +a neat little shop at the corner of the High +Street. Here she dispensed soda-water, candy, +and cakes to the students of school and college. +She was a little old woman, with a face +like a dry but still sound winter apple, and +she shook her head reprovingly as the two +girls entered.</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Wolfe!" she said. "You +hadn't ought to come here at this time, +now you hadn't, my dear. What do you +want? I declare, I've most of a mind not +to give it to you, for a wild slip as you are. +What would Miss Russell say if she should +come in this blessed minute, Miss Grace?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but she won't, granny!" said Grace, +coolly. "She's gone to a lecture, you see, so +it is all right, truly it is.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I saw her go; one horse was blind,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The tails of both hung down behind,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Their shoes were on their feet.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"I got so exhausted studying, I feared the +vital spark might become extinguished, might +pop out, granny, if I didn't have some soda. +Two pineapple creams, please, and be quick +about it. I'll be getting the marshmallows +while you pour it."</p> + +<p>The old woman filled the long glasses, +shaking her head all the time, and muttering +about naughty girls and dark closets.</p> + +<p>Peggy drank the soda, but it did not taste +very good, and her hand trembled as she held +the glass. Her eyes were fixed on the door, +and every moment she expected to see it open, +and Miss Russell or one of the teachers enter. +But no one came. Grace found the marshmallows, +and in high spirits brought them to +Mrs. Button to count and tie up for her.</p> + +<p>"Granny, you look lovely to-night!" she +said. "Don't try to look cross, Granny Button, +for you don't know how. Smile on me, +lovely one, for we must kiss and part."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, then, we'd better, Miss Grace,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +cried the good woman; "and don't let me see +you here again this long while, save and except +at proper hours. I know well enough +I ought to tell that good lady of all the times +you've been here out of hours. Yes, dear, I +know it well enough, and sometimes it makes +me uneasy in my bed. But you have the +beguiling of the serpent himself, Grace Wolfe, +and you know it, and that's the worst."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" said Grace, pensively; and her +large eyes were full of tender gravity, as she +fixed them on the old woman.</p> + +<p>"I'll add serpent to my menagerie, and +thank you, granny! Nobody ever called you +serpent, did they, dear? Wait till you come +to my time in life, and you'll know what it is +to suffer.</p> + +<p>"Well, Innocent, shall we come? After +all, it is hard to stay where one isn't wanted, +and the only trouble with Granny Button is +that she has no heart."</p> + +<p>"Yes, go, dear!" said the old woman to +Peggy, eagerly. "Go right along home now, +and don't let Miss Grace bring ye out again, +as she's a naughty girl, and so I always tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +her, though I never can say no to her, and +that's the truth. But you are different, dear, +and a freshman, I'll be bound; and don't let +me see ye here again without leave or license, +let alone the hour as is getting on for 'lights +out.'"</p> + +<p>"Fare thee well, my first and fairest!" said +Grace, kissing her hand at the door. "Till +our next meeting!"</p> + +<p>It was only a few steps back from the turn +into the High Street. Peggy's pulse began to +beat more naturally; in a moment, now, they +would be back, safe back, and she would +never do it again, no matter what Grace +thought of her. Fun was fun, but it was +not worth this; and what would Margaret +say?</p> + +<p>Coming up from the High Street, they +skirted a field that lay like waving silver +in the moonlight. Nothing would do but +that Grace must have a run through this +field; she declared that it was her favourite +spot in the world.</p> + +<p>"After all, soda and marshmallows are +carnal!" she insisted. "Our bodies are fed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +Innocent, our souls starve for want of poetry. +There is poetry in all that silver waving. I +must! I must prance, or I shall not rest in +my bed. Come along!"</p> + +<p>And she went flitting about through the +long grass, hither and thither like a will-o'-the-wisp, +her long hair floating around her, +her arms waving in gestures sometimes fantastic, +but always graceful. Peggy could think +of nothing but her cousin Rita, as she used to +dance in the old days at Fernley. What +a pair she and Grace would make! What a +mercy they had never come together. Moreover, +her heart, the heart of a farmer's +daughter, smote her at the treading down of +the grass. She stood at the edge of the field, +now and then calling to her companion and +urging her to come home, but for the most +part simply watching her in mingled terror +and admiration.</p> + +<p>At length the wild spirit was satisfied, and +Grace came flying back, radiant and breathless.</p> + +<p>"That was glorious!" she said. "Poor +little Innocent, you haven't much soul, have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +you? Still, I love you. Come, we will go +back to the shades."</p> + +<p>They neared the gate; as they did so, they +heard voices and the sound of approaching +footsteps. Grace paused for a moment; then +held up her hand with a warning gesture. +Peggy felt her heart turn cold; it was coming! +one of the voices was that of Miss Russell. +It was impossible for them to escape +being seen. The broad stretch of the lawn +lay between them and safety, and the relentless +moonlight lay full upon the hedge which +had lain in shadow when they came out. +Peggy braced herself to meet the shock; but +Grace laid a hand on her arm, and then made +a gesture. A great tree stood just by the +gate of Pentland School; a chestnut-tree, +with low-jutting, wide-spreading branches. +With the swift movement of some woodland +creature, Grace Wolfe swung herself up to +the lowest branch, and motioned Peggy to +follow; Peggy was a good climber, too; more +slowly, but with equal agility, she gained the +branch; then softly, slowly, both girls crept +along, inward and upward, till a thick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +screen of leaves hid them completely from +sight.</p> + +<p>Two ladies came around the turn, and +paused a moment at the gate,—Miss Russell +and Miss Cortlandt. They stood directly +under the chestnut-tree; Peggy could have +dropped a nut down exactly on the crown of +Miss Russell's bonnet; she never knew how +near Grace came to doing so, nor how hard it +was to refrain for her, Peggy's, sake.</p> + +<p>"I hope not!" said Miss Russell. "I do +most earnestly hope not."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid there is little doubt of +it!" replied Miss Cortlandt. "Miss Pugsley +seemed quite positive; I know she means to +bring it up at Faculty Meeting to-morrow +night."</p> + +<p>Miss Russell sighed. "Then it will not be +done in the wisest manner!" she said. "I +can say this to you, Emily, for you understand +her as well as I do. I had hoped," she +continued, "that the whole business would be +over when Wilhelmina Lightwood—well, I +suppose she will always be 'Billy,' even to +me—when Billy went away. I put Peggy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +Montfort there, because she seemed such an +honest, steady, sensible kind of girl. I +thought I could trust Peggy Montfort."</p> + +<p>"I think you can!" said Miss Cortlandt. +"I don't believe Peggy has had any share in +the flittings. But I do think it might perhaps +have been better to tell her all about it, +and put her on her guard. Being a new girl, +she might not feel at liberty to stop the older +ones when they came; and she could not tell +of it. You see, Miss Russell, it is such a +little time since I was a 'girl' myself, that I +haven't got away from their point of view yet."</p> + +<p>"I hope you never will, my dear!" said +Miss Russell, warmly. "It is when I get too +far away from that point of view myself that +I make mistakes. Yes, I ought to have put +the child on her guard; I'll do so to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She looked over toward the school, and +sighed again.</p> + +<p>"Broad is the way that leadeth to destruction!" +she said. "It was Grace who gave it +the name, of course. Poor Grace!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Grace!" echoed Miss Cortlandt; and +then the two passed on.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were two very silent girls who +crossed the lawn five minutes later. Grace +Wolfe held her head high, and walked with +her usual airy grace; her face was grave, but +perhaps no graver than usual. Still, she did +not speak; as for Peggy, she was too bowed +down with shame and wretchedness to think +even of her companion. She had been +trusted; and she had betrayed the trust. +There seemed nothing in the whole world +but that.</p> + +<p>They parted outside Peggy's window. +Grace was going up a story higher on the +fire-escape, Peggy did not think nor ask +where.</p> + +<p>No word was spoken; only, Grace laid her +hand on Peggy's shoulder and looked in her +face for a moment. Peggy could not speak, +could only shake her head. A single sob +broke from her lips; then she hurried in, +and closed the window behind her.</p> + +<p>Then Grace Wolfe did a singular thing. +Standing on the iron step, she took from her +pocket the packet of marshmallows, and +deliberately scattered them over the lawn,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +throwing each one as far as her arm could +reach.</p> + +<p>"For the frogs!" she explained, aloud. +"With the compliments of the Goat, the +Wolf, and the Serpent,—to which is now +added the Beast which Perishes!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>FACULTY MEETING AND BEDLAM.</h3> + + +<p>"Have you proof of this, Miss Pugsley?"</p> + +<p>"I am perfectly sure of it, Miss Russell!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am sure you would be, before you +spoke of it; but have you the proof? Of +course, before taking any such serious step as +you propose, I should, in justice to all, be +obliged to ask for positive proof."</p> + +<p>"Proof!" cried Miss Pugsley, in some excitement. +"Proof enough! Look at my bonnet, +Miss Russell. Oblige me by smelling of +it. I can never wear it again, never! I tell +you, brandy has been poured over it. Here +are the slippers!" She produced a pair of +slippers which were certainly in a sad condition. +"They were nailed—nailed with tenpenny +nails, to the floor of my closet; they +are totally ruined. Look—I ask you all, +ladies, to look at my hand-glass!" She held<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +up the glass; and at the sight Emily Cortlandt +had one of those violent fits of coughing +that often troubled her; this one was so bad +that she was obliged to leave the room for a +moment. The worst of it was that one or +two of the other teachers seemed to have +caught the infection, for there was a regular +outbreak of coughing and choking, which only +a severe glance from Miss Russell checked.</p> + +<p>Somebody had painted a face on the little +mirror. It covered the whole surface; the +face of a monkey, with grinning mouth, and +twinkling, malicious eyes; it had an undoubted +resemblance to Miss Pugsley. As +she held it up with a tragic gesture, the effect +was so absurd that even Miss Russell might +have wished that she could—cough!</p> + +<p>"It lay on my dressing-table, face downward," +Miss Pugsley went on. "I had just +done my hair for tea,—I am scrupulous in +such matters,—and took up the glass to see +that my pug was straight behind. I looked—and +saw this. Ladies, I could have fainted on +the floor. My nerves being what they are, it +is a marvel that I did not."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am very, very sorry, Miss Pugsley," said +Miss Russell, gravely. "If I knew who had +done this—"</p> + +<p>"But I tell you I do know, Miss Russell!" +cried Miss Pugsley, vindictively. "I tell you +that there is only one girl in the school who +is capable of all this, and that girl is Grace +Wolfe!"</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence.</p> + +<p>"Have you found Grace in your room at +any time, Miss Pugsley?" demanded Miss +Russell.</p> + +<p>No, Miss Pugsley had not, but that made +no difference. Grace had done the things, +there was no shadow of a doubt of it.</p> + +<p>"Have you been careful to lock your door +when you left the room?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Russell, you know that locks and +bolts make no possible difference to Grace +Wolfe. The girl is cut out for a malefactor. +I prophesy that she will be in +State's prison before she has been out of +school a year."</p> + +<p>"I must request you not to speak in this +way of any of my young ladies," said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +Principal, sternly. "You have been the victim +of some very malicious practical jokes, +Miss Pugsley. I shall look into the matter +thoroughly, and shall do my best to discover +the offender, and shall punish her—or them—as +I think best." She laid a slight emphasis +on the last words.</p> + +<p>"Then you refuse to expel Grace Wolfe?" +said Miss Pugsley, quivering with anger.</p> + +<p>"On such evidence as you have brought +forward to-night? certainly," said Miss Russell, +with some severity. "I have no proof +whatever that Miss Wolfe played any of these +pranks, though I admit it is probable that she +may have done so. You found the bandbox +outside your door, where Bridget admits she +left it several days before. You left your +door unlocked on a rainy half-holiday, when +sixty or more girls were constantly passing +and repassing; there are half a dozen girls, +I am sorry to say, who might have been +tempted by the open door to play some prank +of the kind which seems so clever to children, +and so silly to older people."</p> + +<p>Why did Miss Russell look toward the window<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +as she spoke? But now she was looking +at Miss Pugsley again.</p> + +<p>"You and Grace are not friends, I know, +Miss Pugsley," she went on. "I am sorry for +it, for I think all the rest of us feel how much +that is fine and noble might—may still be +brought out of that untamed spirit. She has +never known a mother, remember. The name +of the Scapegoat, which she has given herself, +may, I sometimes think, reflect blame on the +rest of us as well as on her. It is true that, +whatever mischief is afoot, it is sure to be +laid at Grace's door. This is mainly her own +fault, of course—"</p> + +<p>"I should think so!" snorted Miss Pugsley.</p> + +<p>"But not entirely," the Principal went on. +"There are other mischievous girls in the +school. I should like to know how Grace +has been doing this month in her various +classes," she added, turning to the other +teachers.</p> + +<p>On this point the testimony was unanimous. +Grace Wolfe led many of the classes; she was +well up in all, and had passed her examinations +in a way that did credit both to her intelligence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +and her industry. Thus testified +every teacher, except the small brown mouse +who taught drawing in Pentland School. +This mouse, Miss Mink by name, had crept +away silently, and left the room, after one +glance at the hand-glass; she knew that but +one hand in the school could have drawn that +monkey, and though her heart swelled with +pride, she feared for her darling pupil.</p> + +<p>There was a pause after the teachers had +given their testimony; then Miss Pugsley +returned to the attack.</p> + +<p>"I certainly hope justice will be done, Miss +Russell," she said, with a smile of sweetened +vinegar. "It would be a great pity, wouldn't +it, if the school got the reputation—he! he!—of +injustice and favouritism?"</p> + +<p>"It would," said the Principal, gravely.</p> + +<p>"But there is another matter that I feel +bound to speak of before we separate," Miss +Pugsley went on. "Are you aware that room +No. 18, in corridor A, the room formerly occupied +by Miss Lightwood, is again being used +as a place of exit for parties of students going +on lawless expeditions?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Principal looked at her steadily.</p> + +<p>"I fear that is true," said one of the other +teachers. "I had meant to speak to you +before about it, Miss Russell, but waited till +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Of course it makes no possible difference +to me!" cried Miss Pugsley. "It is not my +corridor, and I have no authority there; but +as long as one is in the school, of course one +must consider the honour of it, you know, and +I am glad some one else is here to bear me +out in <i>this</i> complaint."</p> + +<p>The Principal still looked at Miss Pugsley; +teachers who had been long in the school were +glad that she was not looking at them in that +way.</p> + +<p>"I have heard of this matter before," Miss +Russell said, at last. "I am going to devote +my own time to investigating it, and think I +shall need no help; though I thank you," it +was to Miss Ivors that she spoke, "for bringing +it to my notice, as it was right for you to +do. I think I need not detain you longer, +ladies."</p> + +<p>When the teachers were gone, Miss Russell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +stepped to the window and said, softly, +"Grace!"</p> + +<p>There was no reply. An owl hooted in the +distance; a bird chirped somewhere near by. +That was all.</p> + +<p>"Grace!" said the Principal again. "If +you are there, I wish you would come in and +let me speak to you."</p> + +<p>Still no reply. After waiting a moment, +the Principal closed the window with a sigh. +On leaving the room she paused a moment to +look at the photograph of a lovely young +woman, in the dress of twenty years ago, +which stood on her desk.</p> + +<p>"Dear Edith!" said Miss Russell. "My +first pupil! I'll keep your girl for you, Edith, +if I can!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Was Grace Wolfe outside the window when +the Principal called her? Who can tell? It +is certain that ten minutes after she was at +the supper in Bedlam.</p> + +<p>The tenant of Bedlam, Miss Cornelia Hatch +(familiarly known as Colney Hatch, in remembrance +of the famous English Insane<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +Asylum), was not actually mad, though many +of the scholars thought her so. She was a +special student of natural history, botany, and +zoology; she was absent-minded and forgetful +to the last degree. When she came into class, +she often had to be brought there, some good-natured +classmate dragging her away by main +force from her private experiments. If she +did remember to come of her own accord, she +was apt to have a half-completed articulation +hanging around her neck, or a dried frog skin +stuck behind her ear for safe-keeping. Her +hair was generally untidy, owing to this habit +of sticking things in it while she worked; you +never could tell what it would be, vertebræ, +or seaweed, or pine-cones, but you could +safely reckon on finding something extraneous +in Colney's ruffled black hair. As for +her clothes, she was usually enveloped in a +huge brown gingham apron, with many pockets, +which held snakes, or eggs, or roots, or +anything else that would not go comfortably +in her hair. When the apron became too +dirty (she had had two at the beginning of +the term, but one had been destroyed in an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +explosion), Miss Carey took it away and +washed it, while Colney went around looking +scared and miserable in a queer flannel gown +of a pinkish shade. Report said it had once +been brown, but that the colour had been +changed by the fumes of something or other, +no one knew what. Sometimes she had buttons +on frock and apron, more often not. +Periodically, Miss Carey or the Owls descended +upon her, and sewed on her buttons +and mended her up generally; and she was +very grateful, and said how nice it was to +have buttons. But she soon pulled them off +again, because she never had time to do anything +but tear her clothes off when she went +to bed, and drag them on again when she got +up. When a button flew off, she pinned the +place over, if a pin was in sight; if not, she +went without; it made no difference to her, +and she was not conscious of it in five minutes. +Miss Russell, and most of the teachers, were +very tender with Colney. She was poor, and +meant to work her way through college; even +now she paid part of her schooling by stuffing +birds and setting up skeletons for one of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +college professors. If she did not kill herself +or somebody else before she graduated, Miss +Russell looked forward to a distinguished +career for the tenant of Bedlam; so, as I have +said, she was tender and patient with her; +and good Miss Carey mended her when she +could, and saw that she remembered to eat +her dinner, and Miss Boyle and Miss Mink +rejoiced over her, and Miss Cortlandt led her +gently through English literature, giving her +Walton and Bacon and all the scientific men +of letters that she could find. Only one teacher +failed to do her best to smooth poor Colney's +path through school; that was Miss Pugsley. +Rhetoric was simply an empty noise to the +girl. She never by any chance knew a lesson, +and Miss Pugsley lashed her with so cruel +a tongue that Peggy used to ache and smart +for her as well as for herself, and would get +hold of Colney's hand and hold it and squeeze +it, growing red the while with pity and anger. +But Colney never noticed it half as much as +Peggy did; she used to look at the angry +teacher for a few minutes in an abstracted +kind of way, and then retire within herself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +and make imaginary experiments. This was +what happened on the dreadful day when +Miss Pugsley said:</p> + +<p>"The subject of this sentence is <i>I</i>. How +do we go to work to form the predicate, Miss +Hatch?"</p> + +<p>Cornelia started, but replied, instantly:</p> + +<p>"By mixing one part hydrogen with three +parts—"</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Miss Pugsley, with ominous +calm. "And what happens next, pray?"</p> + +<p>"It turns green, and explodes with a loud +report."</p> + +<p>And this was exactly what did happen. +Poor Colney!</p> + +<p>Peggy Montfort did not form one of the +party in Bedlam that night. The room lay +at the extreme end of the corridor, round a +corner, so that it was in a manner shut off +from the rest of the wing. It was an extraordinary +place. Stretched on the walls, dried +or drying, were specimens of every possible +variety,—bats, frogs, snake skins, bird skins. +Along the mantelpiece were jars and bottles, +all containing other specimens preserved in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +spirits. In one corner stood part of a human +skeleton. It stood on one leg, with a jaunty +air, having indeed but one leg to stand on; +both arms were wanting, but the skull, which +was a very fine one, made up for much. On +account of this fragmentary skeleton, few of +the younger girls ever dared to enter Bedlam, +and some of them would run past the door +with face averted, and beating heart, fearing +lest the door should be open and they should +catch a glimpse of the gruesome thing. But +this object was the pride of Colney's heart. +She could not, of course, afford to buy a whole +skeleton, so she was collecting one, bit by bit; +even Peggy had been quite uncomfortable one +day, when Colney had told her, hanging over +each bone with delight, where and how she +had come by each one. It was always honestly, +one could be sure of that.</p> + +<p>Everywhere in the room, underfoot and +overhead, were setting-boards and pill-boxes, +blowpipes and crucibles. One could not move +without upsetting something; and yet it was +here that the Gang came to have its annual +supper.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>Colney Hatch was dissecting a mouse. +She was perfectly happy, and oblivious of +the world, when the door opened, and in +came fluttering the wild spirits of the junior +and sophomore classes. Last year the sophomores +had been freshmen, and must not know +anything about the Gang, save in wondering +envious whispers and surmises. Next year +the juniors would be seniors, and they too +must forget that such a thing as the Gang +had been, and think only of dramatics, examinations, +and graduation. Such had been the +unwritten law at Miss Russell's, since time was.</p> + +<p>Here were Vanity and Vexation of Spirit, +one smiling and dimpling, the other with her +usual air of blasé superiority. Here was +Blanche Haight, the leader among the sophomores; +here were six or eight girls, in fact, +chosen from the two classes for the same +characteristics, lawlessness and love of fun; +last but not least, here was Grace Wolfe, the +acknowledged leader and queen of the Gang, +when she deigned to be so.</p> + +<p>Grace was in her wildest mood to-night. +She danced solemnly around poor Colney,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +who looked up in dismay from her mouse as +the silent crowd came pouring in, and assured +her that her last hour was come.</p> + +<p>"We are the Secret Tribunal!" she cried. +"We have come to make a pile of all your +rubbish, Colney, and burn it, with you on +top, like the Phœnix. I am sure you would +come up out of the ashes, if we left the mouse +out for you to finish."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do be careful, please, Goat!" cried +Colney Hatch. "Don't sit down on that +frog, he isn't dry! Dear me! do you—do +want anything, girls?"</p> + +<p>"We want your room, my love; and your +company!" replied Grace. "Yet we are merciful. +Here!"</p> + +<p>She twirled Cornelia's chair around, and set +her with her face to the wall; then moved +the lamp so that its light fell on the board in +her lap.</p> + +<p>"There!" she said. "Finish him, poor old +dear, and we'll wake you up when supper's +ready. Now then! who's brought what?"</p> + +<p>Then, from pockets, from surplice folds, +from shawls and cloaks hung carelessly over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +the arm, came forth a strange array of articles. +One had brought a chicken, one a +cake. Here was a Dutch cheese, a tin of +crackers, a bottle of coffee, a bottle of olives, +and a box of sardines. Grace herself told in +high glee how she had met one of the teachers +in the corridor, and had stood for five minutes +talking about the next day's lesson. "And +with this under me cloak the while!" and +with a dramatic gesture she produced and +held out a dish of lobster salad.</p> + +<p>"If it had been potato," she declared, "I +had been lost; the onion had betrayed me. +Blessings on the bland, the seductive mayonnaise, +which veiled the ardent lobster and his +smell. She did smell it, however, and said, +so cheerfully, poor dear, that Miss Carey was +evidently going to give us a surprise to-morrow, +for she smelt lobster. It was Miss Cortlandt, +too; I did want to say, 'Oh, come +along, and have some!' She is a rectangular +fragment of baked clay, used for building +purposes, Miss Cortlandt is."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Goat?" asked some +one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I never use slang, as you know!" replied +Grace, gravely. "It argues a poverty of intellect, +as well as a small vocabulary. I +suppose you would have said she was a brick, +my child."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Goat, how funny you are!" giggled +the girls.</p> + +<p>"Not at all, I assure you," said Grace, +unmoved. "But I pray you fall to! Have +some salad, Vanity? yes, I'll take a wing, +thank you."</p> + +<p>"Isn't this perf'ly fine?" cried Viola Vincent. +They were all seated by this time, +some on the floor, others wherever they could +find a few inches of spare room, and were +dispensing the viands with reckless liberality. +"I say! I wish we had these every week, +instead of only once a year. Why, it's just +as easy! Oh, what an elegant cream pie! +Give me some!"</p> + +<p>"No!" said Grace Wolfe, with emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Why not? What's the matter, Goat?"</p> + +<p>"I will <i>not</i> have pies called elegant while +I am leader of this Gang," said Grace. "Take +my life, if you will, but spare my feelings!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right," said Viola, cheerily. "Your +own way, Goat. I'd just as lief call it dandy, +and it <i>is</i> dandy, you can't deny that."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the Goat is thinking of succeeding +her Puggy in the rhetoric chair!" said +Blanche Haight, with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am thinking of stopping your—" +began Grace; but she checked herself, +and turned away abruptly.</p> + +<p>"Look at Colney!" said Vivia Varnham. +"Isn't she too perfectly killing? She doesn't +know we are here, I believe. Look at her +hair, girls! It gets more ratty, not to say +woozzy, every day. I wonder when she +brushed it last."</p> + +<p>"Possibly when you brushed your manners," +said the Scapegoat. "Colney is our +hostess, I beg to remind you. And nobody +giving her a bite of supper!"</p> + +<p>She rose from the floor, piled a plate with +good things, and went over to the corner +where Colney Hatch was bending over her +mouse, conscious of nothing else.</p> + +<p>"Here, Colney; here's your supper."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, Grace," said Colney, looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +up for a moment. "But I can't, you +know. Both my hands are full, you see."</p> + +<p>"Then open your mouth," commanded the +Scapegoat, in tones of authority.</p> + +<p>Colney obeyed meekly, and Grace stood +over her, feeding her like a baby with the +choicest morsels, and now and then casting +a glance over her shoulder at the others. +Grace's gaiety was fitful to-night, certainly. +When she first came in she had been the life +of the party; now, as she stood there in the +corner, her brow was overcast, her eyes +gloomy. What ailed the Lone Wolf?</p> + +<p>What were they saying over there? They, +at least, were at the very height of glee, +breaking into gusts of giggling, into whisperings +ending in squeaks and smothered screams.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow night? Hurrah! Through +Broadway, of course."</p> + +<p>"Freshy? Oh, Freshy won't say anything. +She wouldn't dare to, in the first place."</p> + +<p>"She'd dare fast enough," said Viola. +"She isn't afraid of anything, Freshy isn't. +But she's safe, she won't say anything."</p> + +<p>"What's all this?" demanded the Scapegoat,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +coming back with the empty plate. +"Plans? Does one hear them?"</p> + +<p>"The apples are all gone," said Kitty +Green. "We're going for some to-morrow +night, Goat. You'll go, too, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Going out through Broadway," said Viola. +"We haven't been out for more than a week, +and the moon will be nearly full to-morrow. +It'll be perf'ly fine, Goat, won't it?"</p> + +<p>"Veto!" said Grace, calmly.</p> + +<p>"Veto? Why, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"What's wrong?"</p> + +<p>"What has happened?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing has happened. Boots are no +longer free, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Do speak English, Grace Wolfe! What +do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"There—are—to—be—no more—free-booting +expeditions—through Broadway. Is +that sufficiently plain, or shall I spell the +words?"</p> + +<p>Blanche Haight rose to her feet, several +of the other girls following her. "What is +the matter with you to-night, Goat?" she said. +"We don't seem to succeed in satisfying you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +Aren't we good enough company for you, perhaps?" +And Blanche sneered in her own +particular manner, of which she was proud.</p> + +<p>"I make no remarks," said the Scapegoat, +in her quietest tones. "I have not been personal. +I merely say, while I lead this Gang, +there will be no more expeditions through +Broadway."</p> + +<p>"And how long do you suppose you will +lead this Gang, if you play the part of Pope +and emperor?" demanded Blanche.</p> + +<p>The other girls began to murmur and protest +at this. "Listen to the Goat!" said one +and another. "She must have some reason, +or she wouldn't act so."</p> + +<p>But Grace seized her opportunity.</p> + +<p>"How long?" she repeated. "Not an +hour! not a second! I resign. My last act +is to break up this meeting. To your tents, +O Israel!"</p> + +<p>Then arose such a confusion of whispering, +exclaiming, disclaiming, entreating, protesting, +that no one voice could be heard. The +owner of the room, fairly roused for a moment +(but indeed she had finished the mouse),<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +turned round to see what was wrong. For a +moment she saw the two leaders, Grace and +Blanche, facing each other, the one pale and +quiet, the other red with anger, her eyes darting +spiteful flames. Next moment, Grace +made a single quick movement, and the room +was in darkness. She had blown out the +lamp.</p> + +<p>"To your tents!" she repeated, sternly. +And, hurrying, whispering, stumbling over +the remains of their feast scattered on the +floor, the frightened girls obeyed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>TEACHER AND PUPIL.</h3> + + +<p>The day after the escapade was the worst +one that Peggy Montfort had ever known. +She was too strong and healthy to lie awake +all night, though it was much later than usual +before she ceased to toss in uneasy wretchedness +and lay peacefully sleeping. When morning +came, she woke, and for a moment greeted +the bright day joyfully. Then remembrance +came like a hand at her throat, and she shivered, +and all the blue seemed to fade away, +and leave nothing but cold, miserable gray +over all the world. What had she done? What +would Uncle John and Margaret, what would +Brother Hugh think, if they should know +this? Slowly and heavily she dressed and +went down to breakfast. There, it seemed as +if everybody knew what she had done. Miss +Russell's eyes rested thoughtfully on her as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +she bade her good morning; Peggy shrank +away, and could not meet the gaze. If she +did not know now, she would soon. "An +honest, steady, sensible girl!" Well, Miss Russell +would find she had been mistaken, that +was all; and of course she would never trust +again where she had once been deceived. And +yet Peggy knew in her heart that there was +no girl in the school who was so little likely +to do this thing again as herself. She was by +nature, as I have said, a law-abiding creature, +with a natural reverence for authority. To +have set the law at defiance was bad enough; +to have done it secretly, and betrayed the +trust that had been placed in her, that was +worse! That was beyond possibility of pardon. +Thus argued Peggy in her wretchedness; +and all through the morning she went +over it again and again, and yet again, seeing +no help or comfort anywhere. Bertha Haughton, +always quick in sympathy, saw the +trouble in her friend's face, and came over in +"gym" and begged to know what was the +matter. Wasn't Peggy well? Had anything +happened to trouble her? Peggy shook her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +head; she could not tell even this good friend—yet. +There was some one else who must +be told first. She promised to come to the +Owls' Nest later in the day, and Bertha was +forced to be content with this, and left her +with a vague sense of uneasiness and a feeling +that somehow little Peggy had grown +suddenly older and more mature. Yes, there +is nothing like trouble for that!</p> + +<p>It was almost a relief when the summons +came.</p> + +<p>"Miss Montfort, Miss Russell would like to +see you in the study."</p> + +<p>Peggy steadied herself for the encounter, +and went quietly. If only she could be met +with a cold look, it would be easier, somehow—but +no! the Principal's gray eyes were as +kind as ever, her smile as gravely sweet, as +she said, pleasantly, "Good morning, Miss +Montfort. Good afternoon, I should say; I +forgot how late it was. Sit down for a moment, +will you? I want to ask you about +something."</p> + +<p>Peggy did not want to sit down. She +wanted to stand still and go through with it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +and then get away to her own room. But +there was no disregarding the request, so she +sat down on the edge of a chair and set her +teeth.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know where to begin!" said Miss +Russell. "I am going to take you into my +confidence—Peggy."</p> + +<p>Peggy shivered a little, but said nothing, +only set her teeth harder.</p> + +<p>"There has been a good deal of trouble," +Miss Russell went on, "a good deal of trouble +in former years with the room which you now +occupy. The girl who occupied it was—was +wild and undisciplined, and took pleasure in +breaking bounds, and in inducing others to do +so. She—there were a number of girls who +used to go out without leave, by way of the +fire-escape outside the window."</p> + +<p>She paused a moment, and looked at Peggy, +but Peggy made no sign.</p> + +<p>"That girl—left the school last year, not +to return; but there are several still here who +used to share in those wild pranks (undertaken +in mere thoughtlessness, I am glad to +think, and not with any evil intent), and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +have been afraid—in fact, it has come to my +ears, that the room was again being used for +the same purpose."</p> + +<p>She paused again; but still Peggy was +silent. What could she say? Besides, no +question had been asked her—yet!</p> + +<p>The question came. "You are silent, Peggy. +Do you know anything about this matter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Russell!" said Peggy, faintly.</p> + +<p>"I feel," said the Principal, in a tone of +regret, "that I have been to blame in not +warning you of this beforehand, and putting +you on your guard. I had hoped that when +Bil—when the young lady of whom I spoke +was gone, the whole thing would die out; it is +a distressing thing to warn a pupil against her +schoolmates. Still, I feel that in this case I +ought to have done so. I place entire confidence +in you, Peggy. I am sure that you +would not yourself break the rules of the +school; but you may have been put to inconvenience +and distress by the lawlessness of +others. I am very sorry if this has been the +case."</p> + +<p>Peggy shut her eyes tight, and said "Margaret!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +twice to herself. Then she looked at +the Principal.</p> + +<p>"Miss Russell," she said,—she tried to +steady her voice, but it would come strange +and shaky,—"you are mistaken about me. +I am not the kind of girl you think I am. I—I +went out last night without leave, by the +fire-escape."</p> + +<p>There was a silence.</p> + +<p>"Who induced you—that is, with whom +did you go?" asked Miss Russell, presently.</p> + +<p>"I—I didn't say that any one else went."</p> + +<p>"No, my dear, you did not say so. But—" +and here Miss Russell rose, and, crossing +the room, laid her hand on Peggy's shoulder; +"if I know anything at all of girls, you did +not go alone, and you did not go of your own +motion. And—Peggy, if you were not the +kind of girl I thought you, you would not be +feeling as you do now about the whole thing."</p> + +<p>This was too much. Peggy could have +borne, or she thought she could have borne, +anger or scorn, or the cold indifference that +is born of contempt; but the kind tone, the +look of affectionate inquiry, the friendly hand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +on her shoulder,—all this she could not bear. +She covered her face with her hands and burst +into a passion of tears.</p> + +<p>It seemed hours that she wept, and sobbed, +and wept again. It did not seem as if she +could ever stop, the tears came rushing so +fast and so violently; but however long it +was, Miss Russell did not try to stop or check +her, only stood by with her hand on the girl's +shoulder, patting it now and then, or putting +back with the other hand—such a soft, firm, +motherly hand it was!—the stray locks +which kept falling over Peggy's face as the +sobs shook her from head to foot.</p> + +<p>At last, however, the storm abated a little; +and then, while Peggy was trying to dry her +tears, and the choking sobs were subsiding +into long, deep breathings, Miss Russell spoke +again.</p> + +<p>"Peggy, we teachers have to go a good +deal by instinct, do you know it? It is not +possible for me, for example, to know every +one of seventy-odd girls as I ought to know +her, by actual contact and communion. But +I have acquired a sort of sense,—I hardly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +know what to call it,—an insight by means +of which I can tell pretty well what a girl's +standard of life is, and how I can best help +her. I know that now I can best help you +and myself by saying—and meaning—just +what I said before. I place entire confidence +in you, Peggy Montfort."</p> + +<p>Peggy looked up in amazement; could she +believe what she heard?</p> + +<p>"To some girls," the Principal went on, +"the taste of stolen fruit is sweet, and having +once tasted it, they hanker for more. To +you, it is bitter."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Peggy; and the gasping exclamation +was enough.</p> + +<p>"Very bitter!" said the Principal. "I +speak not from impulse, but from experience, +when I tell you that there is no girl in the +school to-day whom I could sooner trust not +to commit this offence than you, who committed +it last night."</p> + +<p>Her own thought, almost her own words. +Peggy raise her head again, and this time her +eyes were full of a new hope, a new courage.</p> + +<p>"I believe that is true, Miss Russell," she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +said, simply. "I had thought that myself, +but I didn't suppose—I didn't think—"</p> + +<p>"You did not think that I would know +enough to understand it!" said Miss Russell, +smiling. "Well, you see I do, though we +both owe it partly to dear Emily Cortlandt, +who reminded me of my duty and of your +position. Now, Peggy, I have a recitation, +and we must part. I put you in charge of +'Broadway,' fully and freely. No one must +come in, and no one must go out, by that +window. And if you have any trouble," she +added, with a smile, "if you have any trouble +and do not think it right to tell me, call for +the Owls, and they will help you. Good-bye, +my child!"</p> + +<p>She held out her hand, and Peggy took it +with a wild desire to kiss it, or to fall down +and kiss the hem of her gown who had shown +herself thus an angel of sympathy and kindness. +But the Principal bent down and kissed +the girl's forehead lightly and tenderly.</p> + +<p>"We shall be friends always now," she +said, simply. "Don't forget, Peggy!"</p> + +<p>She was gone, and Peggy took her own<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +way in the opposite direction, hardly knowing +whither she was going. Her heart was +so full of joy and love and gratitude, it +seemed as if she must break out into singing +or shouting. Was ever any one so kind, so +noble, so lovely? How could any one not +try to do her very, very best, to deserve +the care and friendship of such a teacher as +this?</p> + +<p>Passing as if on wings through the geometry +room, she saw a figure crouching over a +desk, and was aware of Rose Barclay, bent +over her book, and crying bitterly. Nothing +could hold Peggy back in that moment of +exaltation. In an instant she was at the +girl's side. "Let me help you!" she cried. +"Please let me; I know I can."</p> + +<p>Rose Barclay looked up fiercely. "I asked +you to help me, once!" she said. "I am not +likely to ask again. Go away, please, and let +me alone."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't!" said stout Peggy. "You +never would let me explain, but now you are +going to let me. I couldn't show you my example, +and I wouldn't, and I never will; but I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +could make you see how to do your own right, +and that's what I am going to do now."</p> + +<p>Down she sat without more ado; took the +pencil from the unwilling hand, and set to +work on an imaginary problem. Rose Barclay +sat still for a moment with averted +face, pride and shame doing their best to +silence the better voices within her. At +length she stole a glance at Peggy's face, and +there beheld such a shining expanse of goodwill +and friendliness that Pride and Co. gave +up the battle, and retreated into their dens. +Heaving a long sigh of relief, she bent forward, +and soon was following with all her +might Peggy's clear and lucid explanation.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes!" said Rose, at last. "Why, +I do see. Why, I do believe I could do that +myself."</p> + +<p>"Of course you can!" said Peggy. "Here, +take the pencil, and I'll give you one."</p> + +<p>She did so, and, after some screwing of the +mouth and knitting of the brows, Rose actually +did do it, and felt like Wellington after +Waterloo. Then, at Peggy's instigation, she +tackled the actual lesson, and, steered by Professor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +Peggy, went through it triumphantly. +Then she turned on her instructor.</p> + +<p>"What made you come and help me, Peggy +Montfort? I've been perfectly hateful to you, +you know I have. I wouldn't have helped +you, if you had acted the way I have."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, you would," said Peggy, good-naturedly.</p> + +<p>"Why—why, you have been crying, too!" +said Rose, examining her benefactress more +closely. "Peggy, you have been crying +awfully, I know you have."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have," said Peggy; "I have cried +my eyes out, and I never was so happy in my +life. Come on, and have a game of ball!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>DECORATION—AND OTHER THINGS.</h3> + + +<p>The Junior Reception was "on." In fact, +it was to take place this very evening, and an +air of subdued excitement hung over the +whole school. All the other classes were +invited, as well as the Faculty and many +friends from outside; it was sure to be a +delightful occasion. Peggy was fortunate +enough to be one of the auxiliaries called in +by the Snowy Owl to help in the decorations, +and she counted it a high privilege, as indeed +it was. As a general thing, there is more +sympathy between juniors and freshmen than +between any other two classes in school or +college; various reasons may be assigned for +this, but it remains the fact. Besides this, +however, Peggy felt a very special bond +with the "Jews," because her dearest friends<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +were among them. This had come about +partly from the accident of her coming late to +school, and so being put into the junior corridor; +but it was still more due to her making +instant acquaintance, as we have seen, with +the Fluffy Owl, and through her with the +beloved and powerful Snowy. These two +girls, through their wise and gentle ways, +were a power for good in the whole school, +and especially in their own class. They were +queens of the steady and right-minded majority, +while Grace Wolfe led the wilder and +less disciplined spirits. The Owls went their +quiet way, and troubled themselves little, less +perhaps than they should have done, about +the doings of the "Gang." They were busy +with study, with basket-ball, with a hundred +things; they could not always know (especially +when pains were taken that they should +not know) what tricks the Scapegoat and her +wild mates were up to.</p> + +<p>Both Owls had a real affection for Peggy, +and though they knew nothing as yet of the +recent escapade, they felt that it would be +well to keep her rather under their wing, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +more so that Grace had undoubtedly taken a +fancy to the child, too.</p> + +<p>"She's too fascinating!" said the Snowy. +"We shall have the Innocent falling in love +with her if we don't look out, and that would +never do!"</p> + +<p>"Never!" said the Fluffy, shaking her +head wisely; but she added, in an undertone, +"If only the mischief isn't done already!"</p> + +<p>So the two asked Peggy to help them in +the work of preparing the gymnasium for the +great event, and she consented with delight. +She was making plenty of friends in her own +class, oh, yes; especially now that she and +Rose Barclay had made it up. She was the +one stay and comfort of poor little Lobelia +Parkins, and was devotedly kind to that forlorn +creature, taking her out to walk almost +by main force, and presenting to all comers a +front of such stalwart, not to say pugnacious, +determination, that no one dared to molest +the girl when Peggy was with her. Spite of +all this, however, her heart remained in Corridor +A, and she would have left the whole +freshman class in the lurch at one whistle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +from the Owls—or, alas! from the Scapegoat.</p> + +<p>But all this is by the way, and does not +help us to get up the Junior Reception.</p> + +<p>There had been an early morning expedition +to the neighbouring woods (not, however, +through the fire-escape), and Peggy and +the Owls had returned each with a wheelbarrow-load +of boughs and ground pine and +all manner of pleasant woodland things. +The leaves had turned, and were glowing +with scarlet and gold and russet. These +were put in water, lest they should begin to +curl and wither before night; while the evergreens +were heaped in a corner and left to +their fate. Now it was afternoon, and the +girls, released from their tasks, had flown to +the scene of action. Already the gymnasium +began to assume a festive appearance. Several +garlands were in place, and on the floor +sat six or eight juniors, busily weaving +more. Ladders stood here and there. At +the top of one stood the Snowy Owl, arranging +a "trophy," as she called it, of brilliant +leaves, on another, Peggy was valiantly hammering,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +as she arranged in festoons the long +folds of green and white bunting that the +Fluffy handed up to her. The Fluffy was a +curious sight, being swathed in bunting from +head to foot. When Peggy demanded "more +slack," she simply turned around a few times +and unrolled herself, thus presenting the +appearance of an animated spool.</p> + +<p>"It's effective," said Gertrude, surveying +her from her perch, "but I can't say that it +looks comfortable. How ever did you get +yourself into such a snarl, Fluff?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I was measuring it, don't you +know?" said Bertha, "and it got all into a +heap on the floor, and there was so much of +it I didn't know what to do. So I began to +roll it round and round myself, and the first +thing I knew I was the cocoon-thing you see +before you. I feel as if I ought to come out +a butterfly, somehow."</p> + +<p>"They are lovely colours!" said Peggy. +"There's nothing so pretty as green and +white. How do you choose your colours? +We haven't chosen ours yet, but I suppose we +shall soon."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Snowy chose them," said Bertha. +"They were Sir Somebody-or-other's colours at +the Siege of Acre. I wanted scarlet, because +that was Launcelot's—"</p> + +<p>"Fluffy! it was nothing of the kind!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know what I mean, Snowy; +don't make a cannibal meal of me. Scarlet +was Elaine's colour, and Launcelot wore it; +that was what I meant."</p> + +<p>"I thought—" said Peggy, timidly, "I +thought she was the Lily Maid; I thought +she wore white."</p> + +<p>"Did, herself," said the Snowy, with her +mouth full of tacks. "But she gave him a +scarlet sleeve embroidered with pearls, and he +wore it on his helmet, and that was what +made Guinevere throw the diamonds into the +river."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Peggy, meekly. She had +tried to read the "Idyls of the King," but +could not make out much except the fighting +parts.</p> + +<p>"Never understood why they had sleeves so +often," said Bertha, abstractedly bunching the +green and white draperies. "Never could see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +how they got the sleeve on the helmet in any +kind of shape. What sort of sleeves did they +have then, anyhow? Why, they were those +tight ones, weren't they, with a slashed cap at +the top? Well, now, Snowy, that would look +perfectly absurd on a helmet, you know it +would."</p> + +<p>The Snowy deigned no reply; or perhaps +the tacks were in a perilous position at that +moment. Bertha went on, thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>"A balloon sleeve, now, would be more +sensible; you could slip it over the helmet, +and it would look like—like the shade of a +piano lamp. But somehow, whenever I read +about it, I see a small, tight, red sleeve, spread +out like a red flannel bandage, as if the helmet +had a sore throat—"</p> + +<p>"Fluffy, you are talking absolute nonsense!" +said Gertrude, regaining utterance. +"And after all, they had gloves oftener than +sleeves; not that that makes it much better. +For my part, I always think of a glove with +all the five fingers sticking up out of the middle +of the crown, as if they had tried to be feathers +and been nipped in the bud."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Feathers don't bud!" said Bertha, handing +up more slack.</p> + +<p>"But the real thing," Gertrude went on, +"the beautiful, graceful thing for the knight +to wear, was the scarf. He could do anything +he liked with that; tie it around his +helmet, or across his breast,—that was the +proper way of course,—or around his waist.</p> + +<p>"A green scarf, that is what I would have! +Very soft, so that it would go through a +finger-ring, and yet wide enough to shake out +into wonderful folds, you know, so that he could +wrap himself up in it, and think of me, and—what's +the matter, Peggy, why do you sigh?"</p> + +<p>"Did I sigh?" said Peggy, looking confused. +"It was nothing, Snowy. I was only +thinking—thinking how stupid I was, and +how Margaret would like all the things you +talk about."</p> + +<p>"Meaning sleeves?"</p> + +<p>"No, oh, no! but about knights, and chivalry, +and all that kind of thing. Margaret +loves it so! She used to try to read Froissart +to me, but it always put me to sleep. I suppose +you like Froissart, Gertrude?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>She spoke so wistfully that Gertrude took +the tacks out of her mouth (she should never +have put them in; a junior should have +known better!) that she might reply the +better.</p> + +<p>"Why, Peggy, yes, I do like Froissart, but +it never troubles me when people don't care +for my kind of books. You see, there are so +many kinds, such an endless variety, and +good in so many different ways. Now you, +for example, would like the Jungle Books, +and the 'Cruise of the <i>Cachalot</i>,' and all kinds +of books of adventure."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what is adventure if Froissart +isn't," Bertha put in.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but it's all too far away, too remote. +I know how Peggy feels, because I have a +cousin who is just that way. She used to +think she should never read anything at all; +then one day she got hold of Kipling, and the +worlds opened, and the doors thereof. Just +you come to me for the Jungle Books some +day, Innocent, and you'll see. Look here, I +want lots and lots, and again lots more leaves. +Where are they all? I don't see any more, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +there must be any quantity. I brought in a +whole copse, myself."</p> + +<p>"We put them all into the old swimming-tank, +don't you remember? Oh, no; you went +in before we had finished this morning. Well, +they are there. Stay where you are, Snowy, +and Peggy and I will get a couple of loads."</p> + +<p>The two girls ran down-stairs to the lower +floor. Part of this was taken up, as we have +already seen, by dressing-rooms, but it was +only a small part. The larger space was occupied +by the great swimming-tank, five feet +deep, and twenty by thirty feet in area. The +tank was not used now, but the water was +still connected, and could be turned on by +special permission. Now, accordingly, the +water in the bottom was about two feet deep, +and the whole surface was a blaze of autumn +colours, great branches of maple, oak, and ash +covering it completely.</p> + +<p>"Pretty, isn't it?" said Bertha. "Like a +little sunset sea all alone by itself, without +any sun to set. The next question is, how +are we to get at them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's easy enough!" said Peggy. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +can reach them easily from the edge, and I'll +hand them over to you."</p> + +<p>Suiting the action to the word, she climbed +up on the broad marble slab which formed the +edge of the great tank.</p> + +<p>Then, bending down, she brought up a +great branch of golden maple, fresh and dripping. +She shook it, and a diamond shower +fell back on the dark space left vacant; then +another branch floated quietly over and filled +the space again.</p> + +<p>"You'll be wet through!" said Bertha. "I +don't suppose you care?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed! I'd rather be wet than not, +when I'm doing things."</p> + +<p>"I'll remember that," said Bertha, slyly, +"and come round with a watering-can next +time you are reciting your rhetoric. Give me +some red now; oh, that is a beauty! There! +that's enough for one load; unless you see +just one more little one that is superlatively +beautiful."</p> + +<p>"That is just what I do see! Hold on a +minute! this is such a beauty, you must have +it, if I—oh!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> + +<p>Peggy had been leaning as far as she could +over the broad tank, fishing for the gay +branch, which floated provokingly just out of +reach. At last she touched it—grasped it—drew +it toward her; when all in a moment +she slipped on the marble, now wet and glossy +with the falling drops, clutched the air—slipped +again—and fell headlong into the +tank, with a mighty splash.</p> + +<p>Bertha shrieked. There was an answering +shriek from above, and Gertrude, followed by +all the other girls, came flying down the +stairs.</p> + +<p>"What has happened? What—where is +Peggy?"</p> + +<p>"In the tank!" cried Bertha. "Oh! dear +me, what shall we do? Peggy, are you much +hurt?"</p> + +<p>"No; I—think not!" spluttered Peggy. "I +came down on my nose, that's all. Feels as +if it was broken, but I don't know—no! It +doesn't crack when I wiggle it. It's bleeding +a good deal, though. Perhaps I'd better stay +in till it stops."</p> + +<p>Bertha tried to climb up to the perch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +which Peggy had so suddenly left vacant, +but in vain; her legs were far too short. +Gertrude, however, came with a flying leap, +and scrambled cat-like up the side of the tank. +Looking down, with the kindest heart in the +world, and a world of sympathy to fill it, she +still could not help bursting into a peal of +laughter. Peggy, sitting in the tank, crowned +with gold and scarlet leaves, and dripping like +Undine, was certainly a funny spectacle.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do forgive me for laughing, Peggy +dear!" cried Gertrude. "You—you do look +funny, but I'm dreadfully sorry."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm laughing myself," said Peggy, +"I don't see why you shouldn't. But did you +ever hear of a water-nymph with a nosebleed? +If I could only get at my pocket—"</p> + +<p>"Here, take mine," and Gertrude dropped +her handkerchief, which Peggy caught adroitly.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 271px;"> +<img src="images/gs05.png" width="271" height="400" alt=""'HERE! TAKE MY HAND AND SCRAMBLE OUT.'"" title=""'HERE! TAKE MY HAND AND SCRAMBLE OUT.'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'HERE! TAKE MY HAND AND SCRAMBLE OUT.'"</span> +</div> + +<p>"My dear," Gertrude went on, "it seems +so strange to have some one besides me +falling about and dropping herself. I used +to be the one, always. They called me +'Dropsy' at home; and I fell in here last +year, Peggy, and I know exactly how it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +feels. Here! take my hand and scramble +out."</p> + +<p>Peggy, still sitting in the water, which +covered her to the waist, looked about her +thoughtfully. "It seems a pity, now I <i>am</i> +here, not to have some good of it," she said, +philosophically.</p> + +<p>"If it were only a foot deeper, or I weren't +bothered with all these petticoats, I might +have a good swim. However, I suppose I +may as well get out—if I can. Take care, +Snowy—oh! take care!"</p> + +<p>Alas! for the Snowy Owl! After all, she +was still Gertrude Merryweather. The marble +was wet—she bent down to take Peggy's +hand—here was another tremendous splash, +and two Undines sat in the tank, gazing +speechless on each other. This was too much +for the composure of any one. Both Peggy +and Gertrude sat helpless, shaking with +laughter, and absolutely unable to move. +Bertha, outside, fairly went into hysterics, +and laughed and screamed in one breath; +while the other girls raised such a clamour of +mingled mirth and terror that Emily Cortlandt,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +who had just come in to take a look at +the decorations, came running down-stairs, +dreading she knew not what.</p> + +<p>One look over the edge of the tank, and +Miss Cortlandt was not so very much better +than the rest of them; but she recovered herself +sooner. Wiping her eyes, she proceeded +at once to the business of rescuing the two +involuntary divers. It proved impossible for +them to climb up, the sides being too slippery, +and the flying leap being out of the question +in two feet of water. She brought a short +ladder, and in another moment first one +nymph and then the other came up from +their fountain, and dripped little rivers on the +floor.</p> + +<p>"Is either of you hurt?" asked Miss +Cortlandt.</p> + +<p>"Not I!" said Gertrude, ruefully. "I fell +on top of poor Peggy, and she makes a perfect +cushion. How are you, Peggy? Did I +half kill you?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit! I think perhaps I've sprained +my wrist a little, but that was when I went +in myself. No, I'm all right; truly I am,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +Miss Cortlandt. I'll just go and change my +clothes, and then come back and finish."</p> + +<p>Emily Cortlandt did not come of amphibious +stock. "You will do nothing of the kind!" +she said. "You <i>ought</i> to go to bed, Peggy, +and Gertrude, too; but I suppose you would +think that a terrible piece of injustice."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Cortlandt, we should!" replied +both girls, in a breath.</p> + +<p>"And I know that you have both been +brought up more or less like whales; so I'll +let you off with camphor pills and peppermint +drops. Those you <i>must</i> have. Run along +and change everything—everything, mind!—and +I'll come around in five minutes and dose +you. Run, now; make it a race, and I'll add +hot lemonade to the stakes,—first prize and +booby prize!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Cortlandt," cried the two Undines; +and off they set in a shower of spray, +with the other girls at their heels.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>AN ADVENTURE.</h3> + + +<p>It all came from Peggy's forgetting her +handkerchief. That was nothing remarkable. +Rapidly though our heroine was developing, +there was still plenty of the old Peggy left; +and when she looked up at Miss Russell with +a certain imploring gaze, the Principal was +apt to say, without waiting for anything +further: "Yes, Peggy, you may; but do try +to remember it next time!"</p> + +<p>But this time it was well that Peggy had +not remembered it. She stumbled across the +long dining-room quite in her own way, stubbing +her toe against a sophomore's chair, and +sending the sophomore's spoon clattering to +the ground. Stooping, in confusion, to pick +it up, with muttered apologies, she encountered +the sophomore's head bent down for the same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +purpose, and some mutual star-gazing ensued. +Finally she did manage to get out of the room, +after cannoning against the door and taking +most of the skin off her nose, and made her +way up-stairs ruefully, rubbing the places that +hurt most, and wondering where in her anatomy +lay the "clumsy bone" that her father +always talked about. "And it isn't there all +the time!" said poor Peggy. "Sometimes I +don't fall into anything for days, and then, all +at once, it's like this!"</p> + +<p>Shaking her head dolefully, she reached her +own room, got the handkerchief, remembered +with a great effort to shut the drawer, and +came out into the corridor again—to come +face to face with a man emerging from the +opposite room.</p> + +<p>The opposite room was Vanity Fair; and the +man's hands were full of trinkets and knickknacks, +and his pockets bulged in a suspicious +way. He cast a wild glance over Peggy's +shoulder at the open door of her room and the +fire-escape beyond; evidently he had entered +by that way, and counted on the dinner-hour's +keeping every one below stairs till he got safe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +away. Now, however, baffled in this, he +turned down the corridor with some degree of +composure.</p> + +<p>"Stop!" said Peggy. "Who are you, and +what are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"I'm the plumber, miss," said the man, +still walking away.</p> + +<p>"Put down those things!" cried Peggy. +"Do you hear? or I'll call the police!"</p> + +<p>Apparently the man did not hear, or else +did not fancy the idea suggested to him, for +he began to run down the long corridor as fast +as he could go.</p> + +<p>So it came to pass that the school, waiting +peacefully for its pudding, heard a sound of +hasty feet scurrying down the stairs. Then, +all in a rush, came past the door the flying +figure of a man, with Peggy Montfort in hot +pursuit.</p> + +<p>"Stop thief!" Peggy shouted it once, and +then prudently saved her breath. The man +fumbled for an instant at the front door, +gave it up, darted into Miss Russell's study. +Crash went a window; he was out, with +Peggy at his heels, and away across the lawn.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Stop thief!" the cry rang through the +school; and, lo! in the twinkling of an eye +there was no school there. The long dining-room +was emptied as if by magic; the front +door flew open, and out streamed the seventy +maidens, all crying "Stop thief!" all running +their very best to come up with the +flying pair.</p> + +<p>There were some good runners at Pentland +School; but after the first few minutes of +running together, jostling and pushing, two +girls drew rapidly away from the rest, and +soon left them far behind. Gertrude Merryweather +and Grace Wolfe had long been +friendly rivals in what they called the royal +sport of running. Perhaps neither of them +was sorry of this opportunity for a "good +spurt." Certainly it was a pretty sight, the +two tall, graceful creatures, lithe and long-limbed +as young greyhounds, speeding over +the ground, their arms held close at their +sides, their eyes flashing, youth and strength +seeming to radiate from them as they ran. +Now one drew ahead a little, now the other; +but for the most part they kept side by side,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +for both were running their best, not only for +the joy and honour of the thing, but because +it was necessary to arrive, to help Peggy and +catch the thief.</p> + +<p>The thief was evidently not a trained athlete, +but he was doing his best. He had cut +himself a good deal in smashing the window, +and had thrown away part of his booty, hoping +that his relentless pursuer might be content, +and might stop to pick up the brooches +and belt-buckles that lay at her feet; but +Peggy never looked at them, and held on +straight after him, gaining, undoubtedly gaining. +The man doubled back across the lawn, +hoping to reach the gate and safety; but Peggy +headed him off as quietly and coolly as if he +were an unruly steer in the home stock-yard. +Again he doubled, and again the girl was +running in a diagonal to cut off his approach +to the wished-for retreat. But now he caught +sight of the two tall avengers bearing down +upon him, and the school in full cry behind. +He made a desperate spurt and reached the +gate; it was half open, and as he rushed +through he slammed it behind him with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +hoarse shout of defiance. But much Peggy +cared for gates! She was over in an instant, +and at his heels again. And realising this, +the rascal suddenly changed his tactics. He +stopped short, and, turning on Peggy a villainous +face, bade her with an oath, "Come on, +and see what she would get for it!"</p> + +<p>The words had not left his lips, when a +ludicrous change came over the man's face. +He uttered a wild yell, and fell headlong, +almost at Peggy's feet. When Peggy saw this, +she knew what to do; and when Grace and +Gertrude came flying up a moment after, they +found her sitting quietly on the rascal's head, +and telling Colney Hatch to go for the police.</p> + +<p>Colney had been watching the evolutions +of a new and extremely interesting spider. +The spider had made her web in the hedge +beside the road; and Colney, as soon as morning +recitations were over, had hastened thither, +and sat down under the hedge to watch, +undisturbed by thoughts of dinner or of any +other known thing. So watching, it came to +pass that she heard the sound of rushing feet +so close that it actually did disturb her; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +looked up to see an extremely ill-looking fellow +in full flight, hotly pursued by Peggy +Montfort. When he turned to bay, it was +within a foot of the spot where Colney sat +under the hedge; and without more ado +Colney stretched out her long, lean hand, and, +grabbing the fellow by the ankles, "tripped +up his heels, and he fell on his nose."</p> + +<p>Presently up came the school, panting and +breathless; with them Miss Cortlandt, who +had been saying to herself that if she ever let +herself get out of practice in running again +she would know the reason why. Finally, +up came William the chore-man from one +direction (for Miss Russell had gone straight +to the kitchen and given the alarm there), +and the next-door neighbour from the other; +whereupon Constable Peggy got up from her +uneasy seat, and handed over her prize to the +tender mercies of his own sex.</p> + +<p>"Git up, ye varmint!" said William, stirring +the prostrate figure with his foot. "Git +up, and say what ye've got to say for yerself."</p> + +<p>The man got up, bewildered, and shaking +his head as if he expected it to come off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She 'most killed me!" he spluttered. "I +ain't got no breath left in my body."</p> + +<p>"Small loss if ye hain't!" retorted William. +"What's he ben doin', gals?" William never +<i>would</i> say "young ladies," which distressed +Miss Russell; but he was <i>so</i> valuable, as she +said.</p> + +<p>"Stealing!" said Peggy, briefly. "I met +him coming out of one of the rooms."</p> + +<p>"I snum!" said William. "You're a nice +kind o' harmonium, ben't ye? Tu'n out yer +pockets!"</p> + +<p>"She sot down on my head!" muttered +the man. "Somethin' come up out o' the +ground at me and knocked me down, and +then she sot down on my head. I'm 'most +killed, I tell ye!"</p> + +<p>"Well, who cares if ye be?" replied +William, with some irritation. "It's a pity +she didn't finish the job, that's all I've got to +say. Tu'n out yer pockets, will ye?"</p> + +<p>The man obeyed unwillingly, still muttering; +and out came a mass of lockets, pins, and chains, +enough, in spite of those he had thrown away, +to furnish half the girls in the school.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + +<p>After searching to see the surrender was +complete, William adjured the next-door +neighbour, a stout and silent person named +Simpson, who had been standing by, to +"take t'other arm, and we'll walk him +down to the lock-up jest as easy!" The +thief begged and prayed, and, finding that +useless, took to cursing and swearing; whereupon +William and Mr. Simpson marched +him off in short order, and all three disappeared +around the turn leading to the High +Street.</p> + +<p>The school was left standing in the road, +still panting with haste and excitement. +They had been silent during William's colloquy +with the man, but now the strings of +their tongues were loosened, and the flood +of speech broke loose.</p> + +<p>"My dear!"</p> + +<p>"My <i>dear!</i> I never was so excited in my +life, were you?"</p> + +<p>"Where did he come from?"</p> + +<p>"Who saw him first?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Peggy Montfort, of course! Didn't +you see her?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No; I just ran, because every one else +was—"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly distracted! I never heard of +such a thing."</p> + +<p>"He was in the closet—"</p> + +<p>"No; he was on the stairs—"</p> + +<p>"Just getting out of the window—"</p> + +<p>"With just her bare hands, I tell you. Just +took a—"</p> + +<p>"Pair of earrings, nothing else in the +world."</p> + +<p>"But who was he—where did he come +from? What does Peggy say about it?"</p> + +<p>"Girls! <i>girls!</i>" cried Miss Cortlandt. "Will +you please be silent for a moment? Peggy +has not had a chance to say a word yet, +and I for one want to hear her story. +Have you got your breath yet, Peggy? +because we all want to hear, very much +indeed."</p> + +<p>"There isn't much to tell," said Peggy, +blushing. "I went up to get my handkerchief,—I +had forgotten it,—and as I was +coming out of my room, this fellow was just +coming out of the other room."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What other room? Whose was it?" cried +a dozen voices.</p> + +<p>"Why, Van—I mean No. 17, Miss Vincent +and Miss Varnham's room."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!" a shrill scream was heard; +and Viola Vincent pushed her way through +the crowd of girls, and threw herself upon +Peggy.</p> + +<p>"My Veezy-vee!" she cried. "It was my +room! V., do you hear? It was our room +that horrid wretch was robbing. My dear, if +we had been there we should have been murdered +in our beds, I know we should. Peggy +Montfort has saved our lives. Isn't it perfectly +awful?"</p> + +<p>"That she should have saved your lives?" +asked the Snowy Owl, laughing. "Come to +your senses, Vanity, and don't strangle Peggy. +She's black in the face, and I shall have to +set about saving her life if you don't let her +go."</p> + +<p>Released from Viola's embrace, Peggy +gasped, and shook herself like a Newfoundland +puppy.</p> + +<p>"Don't be ridiculous, Vanity!" she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +looking at once pleased and shamefaced. "It +wasn't anything, of course; it was just what +any one else would have done. But do look +out for your things! They are scattered all +about the lawn; he threw away a lot of them +when he first came out, and we shall be stepping +on them if we don't take care. Oh! oh, +please don't say anything more about it. It +was just the merest chance I happened to go +up." This was to Vivia Varnham, who, +trying to overcome her ungraciousness, was +expressing her gratitude for what Peggy had +done. It was evidently an effort and was not +pleasant for either girl.</p> + +<p>The girls scattered over the lawn, picking +up here a hairpin, there a brooch or +buckle. It really seemed as if Vanity Fair +was stocked like a jeweller's shop. Gertrude +Merryweather, standing by Peggy, uttered an +exclamation. "My dear! Peggy! Why, you +are all over blood! You are bleeding now. +What—where—oh! oh, Fluffy, <i>look</i> here!" +Bertha came running, as Gertrude lifted Peggy's +arm, which was indeed dripping blood. +Both girls exclaimed in horror, and Bertha<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +turned quite white; but Peggy looked at it +coolly.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said. "That must be where I +went through the window after him."</p> + +<p>"The window?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, didn't you hear the crash? He +smashed the window in Miss Russell's study +and got out, and I followed him, of course. +It isn't anything. Why, I didn't feel it till +you spoke."</p> + +<p>"That is excitement!" said the Snowy +Owl. "You must come in and be bandaged +this minute, Peggy! Come right along to +the Nest; I have bandages and lint all +ready."</p> + +<p>The Snowy Owl was all on fire with ardour +and sympathy. Peggy looked at her in surprise, +but the Fluffy Owl laughed. "You +have struck the Snowy's hobby," she said. +"She is going to study medicine, you know. +Go along; she will be happy all the rest of +the day, bandaging and cosseting you."</p> + +<p>"But it doesn't hurt!" said Peggy, still +wondering.</p> + +<p>"Never mind!" said the Snowy Owl. "It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +ought to hurt, Peggy Montfort, and it will +hurt in a little while. Come along and be +bandaged!" and, meekly wondering, Peggy +went.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>PEGGY VICTRIX!</h3> + + +<p>"Well, it certainly was a great success!" +said the Scapegoat. It was the day after the +reception, and she had drifted into the Owls' +Nest toward twilight, and now stood by the +mantelpiece, swaying backward and forward +in the light, wind-blown way she had.</p> + +<p>"A great success!" she repeated, thoughtfully. +"Why, it was actually pleasant! +How did you manage it?"</p> + +<p>"We didn't manage it," said honest Bertha. +"It just came so. Everybody was ready to +have a good time, and had it; that was all."</p> + +<p>"More than that!" said Grace, absent-mindedly. +"There has to be a knack, or +something, and you have it. I haven't. I +couldn't do it, even if I wanted to, and I don't +think I do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do what?" said the Snowy.</p> + +<p>"Be an Owl!" said Grace. Suddenly she +left her hold of the shelf, and turned upon +them almost fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" she exclaimed. "Tell +me that, will you? It is all natural to you. +Your blood flows quietly, and you like quiet, +orderly ways, and never want to throw things +about, or smash a window. I tell you I have +to, sometimes. Look here!"</p> + +<p>She caught up a vase from the shelf, and +seemed on the point of flinging it through the +closed window, but Gertrude laid her hand +on her arm firmly. "You may have a right +to throw your own things, my dear," she said, +good-naturedly. "You have no possible right +to throw mine, and 'with all respect, I do +object!'"</p> + +<p>Grace gave a short laugh, and set the vase +down again; but she still looked frowningly +at the two girls, and presently she went on.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well for you, I tell you. +You have a home, and a—my mother died +when I was five years old. My father—"</p> + +<p>"Grace, dear," said Gertrude; "come and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +sit down here by me, and tell me about your +mother. I have seen her picture; she must +have been lovely."</p> + +<p>But Grace shook her head fiercely.</p> + +<p>"My father is an actor, and I want to be +one, too, but he promised my mother before +she died—she didn't want me to be one. +What do I care about all this stuff we are +learning here? I tell you I want to take a +tambourine and go on the road with a hand-organ +man. That would be life! I would, +too, if I only had the luck to have hair and +eyes like yours, Fluffy."</p> + +<p>"You could wear a wig, of course," said +Bertha, soberly. "The eyes would be a difficulty, +though, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am here now! and I'm supposed +to stay another year, and then go to college. +Four—five years more of bondage, and tasks, +and lectures on good behaviour! Am I likely +to stand it, I ask you?"</p> + +<p>"I hope so!" said Gertrude, steadily. "It +would be a thousand pities if you didn't, +Grace, and you know it as well as I do."</p> + +<p>"And if I do, it must be in my own way!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +cried the wild girl, swinging round again on +her heel. "And if I can make things more +endurable here—if I can get rid of—it must +be in my own way, I tell you. Snowy, you +are like your name, I suppose. You are +white and gold and calm,—I don't know +what you are, except that we are not of the +same flesh. I tell you, I turn to fire inside! +I must break out, I must go off when the fit +comes on me. I do no harm! It doesn't hurt +anybody for me to go down the wall and cool +myself with a run in the fields. Why can't I +be let alone? I am not a child! I tell you it +is the way I am made!"</p> + +<p>The Snowy Owl rose, and, going to the fireplace, +laid her arm around Grace's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"You are making yourself!" she said. +"It's your own life, Wolf; are you making it +worse or better?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not doing either. I am taking it as +it comes, as it was meant to come."</p> + +<p>Gertrude shook her head quietly.</p> + +<p>"That can't be!" she said. "That is impossible, +Wolf. We have to be growing one +way or the other; we can't stay as we are,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +for a year or a day. And there's another +thing: you don't seem to think about the +others, about the effect on the school. If you +are to break the laws, why should not every +one do the same?"</p> + +<p>"Because they are different!" said Grace, +sullenly.</p> + +<p>"You don't know that! They may have the +same temptations, and be stronger than you +to resist them. You ought to be a strong +girl, Grace, and, instead of that, you are weak—as +weak as water."</p> + +<p>"Weak? I!" cried Grace, her eyes blazing. +"If any one else had said that to me, Gertrude +Merryweather, I would—"</p> + +<p>"But no one else would say it to you!" +said Gertrude. "Because no one else—except +Miss Russell—cares as much as I do—Fluffy +and I. We love you too much, Grace, +to flatter you and follow you, as most of them +do. I tell you, and you may take it as simple +truth, for it is nothing else, that which you +think strength is simply weakness,—lamentable +weakness. And as for your influence on +the other girls—just listen a moment!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p> + +<p>Taking up a little book from the table, she +opened it—indeed it seemed to open of its +own accord at the place—and read:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Of thee from the hill-top looking down;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The heifer that lows in the upland farm,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">The sexton, tolling his bell at noon,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Deems not that great Napoleon</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Stops his horse, and lists with delight,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Whilst his files sweep round yon Alpine height;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nor knowest thou what argument</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thy life to thy neighbour's creed hath lent.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">All are needed by each one;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nothing is fair or good alone.'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>There was silence when she finished reading. +Then—"What is that?" asked Grace, +stretching out her hand. "Give it to me!"</p> + +<p>"Emerson. Take him home with you, +and let him talk to you; he speaks well."</p> + +<p>Grace took the book, looked it over, and +dropped it into her pocket. For a moment +she leaned her head against Gertrude's arm, +and a sigh broke from her involuntarily. +Then, all in a moment, a change came. Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +face lightened in an indescribable way, and +her eyebrows lifted with a look that both +girls knew well.</p> + +<p>"And have you heard the news?" she said. +"There is a rumour that my Puggy leaves me +at the end of the term. How to exist, I ask +you, without her? Othello's occupation would +be gone indeed."</p> + +<p>"No! is it true? Why is she going? What +does it mean?"</p> + +<p>Grace shrugged her shoulders with an elfish +gesture.</p> + +<p>"How should I know? It appears she sees +ghosts. A ghost must be hard up, one would +think, to visit my Puggy; there ought to be +an asylum for impoverished spectres. Would +you subscribe for it, Owls? Good-bye! I must +go. You mean well, and I don't bear malice. +Oh! by the by,—" she came back for an +instant, and stood balancing herself on one +foot and looking round the edge of the door, +and she certainly looked hardly human,—"I +forgot the thing I came for. Stand by the +Innocent this evening, will you, if she should +get into trouble? I am sent for to the study,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +and shall be in for a good hour's lecture, and +then bed."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Goat? What is it?" +asked both girls, anxiously. But the Goat +was gone.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Peggy was enjoying herself extremely. She +had learned all her lessons, for a wonder, and +now she had curled herself up in a corner +with the "Jungle Book," and the rest of the +world was forgotten. There was nobody, +there never had been anybody, but Mowgli +and the Wolves. She had hunted with them, +she had slain Shere-Khan, she had talked +with Baloo and Bagheera. Her outdoor nature +had responded in every fibre to the call +of the Master of Magic, and he filled her with +joy and wonder. As the Snowy had said, the +worlds were opening, and the doors thereof.</p> + +<p>Things being thus with her, she hardly +heard her own door open softly. Before she +had torn her eyes from the enchanted page, +the room was filled with silent, flitting figures—as +it had been often filled before. The +girls nodded to her with silent laughter and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +friendly gestures. In another moment they +would have been at the window; but Peggy +was not dreaming now. In an instant she had +sprung from her corner among the cushions, +and stood before the window, with arms outspread. +"No!" she said.</p> + +<p>The girls recoiled, paused, in amazement. +There were six of them: the two V's, Blanche +Haight, and three other sophomores. Peggy +saw with a throb of joy that Grace Wolfe was +not among them. That would have made it +harder.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean?" asked Vivia +Varnham, with her cold smile. "You have +never made any trouble before, Peggy; isn't +it rather late in the day?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's only in fun!" cried Viola Vincent. +"Aren't you, Veezy-vee? Why, she's +acting, girls, and she does it elegantly. It's +perf'ly fine, Veezy-vee. I didn't know you +had it in you."</p> + +<p>"No, I am not acting," said Peggy, quietly. +"I am sorry, girls, but you can't go out. +You never can go out again, so long as I am +here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Upon my word!" cried Blanche Haight, +who had not spoken yet. "This seems to be +a pretty state of things. Perhaps you are not +aware, Miss Montfort, that this exit was used, +long before you came to adorn the school with +your presence. We acknowledge no right +of yours to forbid us the use of it. Stand +out of the way, please."</p> + +<p>For <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'all'">a</ins> reply, Peggy backed against the +window; her face assumed an expression with +which her family was acquainted.</p> + +<p>"When Peggy looks dour," Jean used to +say, "look out for rising winds and a falling +barometer!"</p> + +<p>Then Viola came forward, and began to +plead, in her pretty, wheedling way.</p> + +<p>"Let us go, just this once; that's a dear, +good Veezy. I know what has happened; +Miss Russell has found out, hasn't she?"</p> + +<p>Peggy nodded.</p> + +<p>"And she has spoken to you, and of course +I know just how you feel. But you see, +Peggy, we have an appointment this time, +truly we have, with some college girls, and +you wouldn't make us break it, would you,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +Veezy? Of course you don't want us to go, +and we won't again,—at least most probably +we won't, if it is going to get you into trouble. +But we really <i>have</i> to go this time, Peggy, +dear, so do be nice and sweet, and let us +pass."</p> + +<p>"No," said Peggy. "I'm sorry, Viola, but +it's no use. Nothing you can say will make +any difference."</p> + +<p>"Possibly not!" said Blanche Haight; she +pushed Viola aside without ceremony, and +came close to Peggy.</p> + +<p>"Possibly nothing we can say will make a +difference, Miss Montfort, but something we +can <i>do</i> may make a good deal. I ask you, +fair and square, will you come away from +that window? We are six to one, and I give +you the chance of settling this in a quiet and +friendly way. Will you come away from that +window?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Peggy, "I will not. Is that +square enough?"</p> + +<p>"Then, girls," said Blanche, turning to her +followers, "we must help ourselves. We +shall see whether one freshman is going to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +block the way of the Gang! You take one +arm, Viola, and I'll take the other."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't hurt her!" cried Viola. "Don't +hurt her, Blanche. I'm awfully fond of +Peggy. I know she only means to do what +she thinks she ought to. Peggy, do give up! +You are all alone, and there are six of us. +Do give up, Peggy; for my sake, Peggy! +I—I'll give you my gold bangle, the one with +the locket, if you'll only give up, Peggy!"</p> + +<p>Peggy smiled, and said nothing. She could +not be angry with the little butterfly, but +there was no use in wasting breath; she +might need all she had.</p> + +<p>Blanche Haight seized one arm, Vivia Varnham +the other, and tried to drag her away +from the window by main force. With her +favourite Newfoundland-dog motion, Peggy +shook them off, planted a quick blow here, another +there, and her assailants staggered back +for a moment. In another instant, however, +they returned to the attack, and this time the +other sophomores joined, and all five threw +themselves on Peggy. Once more she shook +them off, but they closed in again, and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +struggle began, all the more fierce that no word +was spoken, no cry uttered. No cry, that is, +by the combatants. When the five set upon +Peggy, Viola ran in and made an effort to +pull them off, with piteous entreaties. But +no one paid the smallest heed to her, and the +poor little butterfly, frightened and distressed, +burst into tears, and ran away.</p> + +<p>At the same moment, any one who had +been listening in quiet might have heard a +singular sound that seemed to come from +above, from outside—no one could tell from +where; the cry of an owl, followed by a long, +low howl. Three times this was repeated; +and many a junior, studying under her +lamp, looked up and said, "What is up +now, I wonder?" for the sound recalled +freshman days, before the Lone Wolf and +the two Owls had come to the parting of the +ways.</p> + +<p>Three minutes later, two figures, speeding +silently along Corridor A, were met at a turn +by a third, which flung itself sobbing upon +them.</p> + + +<p>"Oh, Snowy, oh, Fluffy, they are killing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +Peggy Montfort! I was coming to call you—oh, +be quick! be quick!"</p> + +<p>Without stopping, somehow the Snowy +Owl managed to open a door and thrust +Viola in. It was to be noticed that neither +girl looked at her. They ran on, swift and +silent.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs06.png" width="500" height="337" alt=""WITH ONE OF HER SUDDEN MOVEMENTS SHE HAD THROWN OFF HER ASSAILANTS."" title=""WITH ONE OF HER SUDDEN MOVEMENTS SHE HAD THROWN OFF HER ASSAILANTS."" /> +<span class="caption">"WITH ONE OF HER SUDDEN MOVEMENTS SHE HAD THROWN OFF HER ASSAILANTS."</span> +</div> + +<p>Indeed, it was time! Peggy's lip was bleeding, +where Vivia Varnham's head had struck +against it as she fell, tripped by a pretty trick +that was learned on the Western farm. Her +hair was dragged down and hung in her eyes, +her dress was torn in a dozen places. +With one of her sudden movements she had +thrown off her assailants, and stood for an +instant alone, looking the very Spirit of Battle, +with blazing eyes and scarlet cheeks. +Blanche Haight rushed at her again, and this +time Peggy seized her around the waist in a +deadly grip. The others closed in once more, +furious, determined this time to finish with +the insolent freshman. It was like to go +hard with Peggy Montfort this time.</p> + +<p>What happened? A flash, the glance of an +eye, and all was changed. The assailants fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +back, staggering across the room, gasping and +staring; and the Snowy and the Fluffy Owl +were standing shoulder to shoulder with +Peggy, one on either side, with stern and +angry looks.</p> + +<p>For a moment there was dead silence, save +for the hard breathing as Blanche Haight +tried to wriggle out of the iron grasp that +held her—in vain! Then Gertrude Merryweather +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Miss Varnham, Miss Floyd, Miss Johnson, +Miss White, Miss—who is this?—Miss +Haight. Found out of bounds and out of +hours, making a disturbance in the rooms. +To be reported to the Principal. Go to your +rooms, if you please!"</p> + +<p>Was this the Snowy Owl, gentle and +friendly, beloved of all? No! it was the +Junior President and the Monitor of Corridor +A. She might have been an avenging angel +as she stood there, tall and white and severe.</p> + +<p>Her face softened as she bent over Peggy. +"You can let her go now!" she said. "We +are here, Peggy, Bertha and I. It is all +right! Let her go, child!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> + +<p>Slowly and reluctantly Peggy loosed her +hold, and Blanche, half-fainting, dropped +upon the bed. She looked with feeble venom +at the two rescuers.</p> + +<p>"Spying, eh?" she whispered. "Very +dignified, I'm sure, for a president. That little +sneak Viola Vincent was here too, mind! +Put her down in your precious report."</p> + +<p>"I don't see Miss Vincent here!" said +Gertrude, coldly. "Go to your rooms, if you +please! I think I understand the case thoroughly, +Blanche, thank you. Will you go, or +shall we help you?"</p> + +<p>But Blanche preferred to go unaided. +Silent as they had come, they slunk away, +flitting like shadows along the corridor. And +when they were gone, the two Owls sat down +on the bed and took Peggy between them, +and rocked, and petted, and soothed her; for +lo! the Goddess of Battle was crying like a +three years' child.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>ON SPY HILL.</h3> + + +<p>Things were quietly managed at Pentland +School; there was never any outcry, any open +flurry of excitement and gossip. Many of the +scholars never knew why five girls left school +in the middle of the term. The seniors who +did know shrugged their shoulders, and said +it was a pity to have such things take the +girls' minds off their parts—looking at +everything from the point of view of Senior +Dramatics. The juniors looked pretty sober +for a week, even the sophomore spirits were +dashed for the time. But nothing was said +openly, and after awhile the scared whisperings +died away, and work and play went +on as usual. Poor little Viola Vincent +mourned deeply the loss of her mate. She +herself had escaped with a severe reprimand,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +having gone to Miss Russell to plead Vivia's +cause, and confessing frankly her own share +in the escapade. Vivia was anything but an +agreeable girl; but she and Viola had grown +up together, next-door neighbours and companions +from their cradles, and Viola was lost +without her. She threw herself upon Peggy +for consolation, and Peggy found herself in +the curious position of protecting and comforting +a junior, and a girl two years older +than herself. Viola would come in, and, curling +herself up in the corner of Peggy's divan, +declare that she had come for a good cry. +A few sniffs would follow, and then perhaps +actual tears, but more likely a river of speech.</p> + +<p>"It's no use, Peggy! I cannot live! I +simply can <i>not</i> live on in this way. I know +V. was horrid to you—yes, she was! Oh, I +am not blind, you know, if I am a goose! She +was horrid to most of the girls, I know she +was, but she was good to me, generally, and +it didn't matter much if she wasn't. I was +used to her little ways, and I didn't mind. +And I have always had her, you see, all my +life, and I don't—see—how I <i>can</i> get along<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +without her. I wanted to be expelled, too! +Yes, I did! that was why I told Miss Russell +about my being there and all; I thought she +would be sure to send me away, too. I think +it was very unjust of her not to, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>"Viola, don't talk so! You had nothing +to do with the—the attack, or any violence. +You would have gone away quietly when I +said you could not use the window; you +know you would."</p> + +<p>"How do you know I would have? I might +have torn you limb from limb, Peggy, for all +you can say. What are you laughing at?"</p> + +<p>For this statement, coming from a small +person with a grasp about as powerful as that +of a week-old kitten, was too much for the +stalwart Peggy's composure.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what I am when I am +roused!" Viola went on. "I'm awful, simply +awful!" And she opened her blue eyes wide, +and looked like a tragic baby.</p> + +<p>"But—my! Peggy, how you did look that +night! I wonder this whole room didn't turn +blue with fright. I was frightened almost to +death; I wonder I'm alive to-day. Well,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +wasn't it too perf'ly awful for anything, the +whole thing?"</p> + +<p>"It was pretty bad!" Peggy assented. +"But it's all over now, Viola; I would try +not to dwell on it too much, if I were you. +Of course I know how you must miss Vivia, +and I'm dreadfully sorry about it all. But +just think how dear the Owls have been to +both of us."</p> + +<p>"Haven't they?" cried Viola, drying her +tears, her eyes brightening. "Aren't they +too perfectly lovely for anything, the Owls? +I think the Snowy is just the sweetest thing +that ever lived in this world, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I think she's one of them," said honest +Peggy. "But I'm just as fond of Bertha. +She was my first friend here, my very first."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how funny you were that first day, +Peggy!" cried Viola, laughing now, her sorrows +forgotten for the time. "You were +too killing! I thought I should have died, +when you went tumbling all over yourself. +You <i>were</i> killing, weren't you, now?"</p> + +<p>"You seem to have survived!" said +Peggy, good-naturedly. It was not pleasant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +to be laughed at, but no one ever minded +Viola.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" demanded Viola, +as Peggy got out her "Tam" and pinned it +on with a resolute air. "Peggy, you are not +going out, just when I have come to see you? +I was so lonely, and I wanted some one to +talk to; and now the minute I come, you get +up and go away. I must say I don't think +you are very polite." And Viola pouted and +looked like a child of six instead of a girl of +sixteen.</p> + +<p>"Viola!" said Peggy. "You have been +here an hour and a half, do you know it? and +I must have a walk; I haven't been outside +the door this afternoon. Put on your Tam +and come along with me! You'd feel ever so +much better if you would take more exercise."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I shouldn't! and I cannot see +what you want to be walk, walking, all the +everlasting time for, Peggy Montfort. What's +the use of it?"</p> + +<p>"The use?" cried Peggy, with sparkling +eyes. "Why, there's all the use in the world.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +In the first place, it makes you strong and +healthy, and keeps you well."</p> + +<p>"Oh! but gym does that! We have to do +gym, and I don't mind that; in fact it's rather +fun, only it spoils your figure dreadfully."</p> + +<p>"But gym isn't enough, if you don't take +any other exercise," said Peggy. "And besides, +V., just think of the <i>joy</i> of walking and +running. Why, you see all the things growing, +and breathe the air, and—and—hear the +birds, and the water, and—well, I shouldn't +want to live if I couldn't walk, that's all. +Come along, and you'll see!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't, I'm too tired."</p> + +<p>"You are tired, because you have been +sitting in the house all day. And you are +pale, and—"</p> + +<p>"No! am I?" cried Viola, running to the +glass. "I'm so glad! I just love to be pale, +it's so interesting. It makes my eyes look +larger, too, doesn't it, Peggy? They do look +very large to-day, don't they, Peggy?"</p> + +<p>Peggy sighed. "You do discourage me, +Viola!" she said. "Well, good-bye. I must +go. The others are waiting for me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What others? Who else is going? What +are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I told you! We are going to walk."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what <i>for?</i> Are you going to the +shops, or going to see somebody? I can't see +<i>any</i> sense in just stupid walking, without any +object. And you didn't tell me who was +going."</p> + +<p>"You didn't give me a chance. Well, +Rose Barclay is going, and two other freshmen +whom I don't think you know, Clara +Fair and Ethel Bird—and Lobelia Parkins."</p> + +<p>"Peggy Montfort! why <i>do</i> you go with +that little animal? I've told you before that +I could not, for the honour of the corridor, +have you seen with a creature that looks like +that. Let her go with Colney Hatch if she +wants company; they'd be two of a kind."</p> + +<p>"Colney Hatch is one of the brightest girls +in school, Miss Cortlandt says so!"</p> + +<p>"Very likely; but that doesn't make her a +fit associate for you, my Veezy-vee. You +never seem to understand about different sets. +I want you to belong to the smart set, and +you won't."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do the Owls belong to it?" demanded +Peggy, turning red.</p> + +<p>"Peggy, how dense you are! The Owls +don't belong to any set because they won't. +Of course they could belong to any set they +pleased."</p> + +<p>"Does Grace Wolfe belong to it?"</p> + +<p>"The Goat? Why, she used to; but she's so +awfully queer, you know; the Goat has grown +too awfully queer for anything. She stays by +herself mostly, ever since she cut loose from +the Gang. And Vivia is gone," she wailed, +"and Blanche Haight,—Blanchey was not +very nice, but her gowns fitted like a seraph's, +and the style to her hats was too +perfectly killing for anything, you know it +was. And now there isn't any one, not a +single soul, that I care to talk to about +clothes. I've had my pink waist done over, +and it's simply dandy—the sweetest thing +you ever saw in your life; and nobody cares. +I am so unhappy!"</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen that new hat you told me +about!" said Peggy, with a happy stroke of +diplomacy. If any one had told Margaret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +Montfort that her Peggy would ever develop +a talent for diplomacy she would have opened +her eyes wide indeed; but one learns many +things at boarding-school.</p> + +<p>Viola brightened at once.</p> + +<p>"No! didn't I?" she cried, her whole manner +changing. "Would you like to see it, +Peggy? It is really too cute for anything, it +just <i>is!</i> What makes you shut up your +mouth that way?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing! Well, yes, it is something. +You won't mind if I tell you? Well, I used to +say 'cute,' and Margaret showed me what +bad English it was, and how silly it sounded. +So I made up my mind to stop it, and every +time I wanted to say it I screwed up my mouth +and counted ten. Just the same with 'elegant.' +I've broken myself of that, too, but it +was hard work."</p> + +<p>"Elegant! simply elegant!" repeated Viola, +thoughtfully. "The Goat won't let you +say that, either, or the Owls. What's the use +of being so fussy? besides, elegant is a real +word, they can't say it isn't, so now!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! of course it is, and it has its real<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +use. You can speak of an elegant dress, or an +elegant carriage, and then it's all right; but +I used to say I had had an elegant time, don't +you know? and talk about elegant cake, and +all that kind of thing. And when once you +have learned better, it does sound awfully +silly."</p> + +<p>"Well, they make just as much fuss about +'awful,' and there you are saying that, and +you say it all the time."</p> + +<p>"I know!" said poor Peggy, hanging her +head. "I know I do, though I try awfully +hard not to. There! that's the way it is. It +does seem as if I couldn't get over that, but +I'm going on trying. And if you don't get +your hat this minute, V., I shall go without +you. I can't wait any longer. It's awfully—it's +<i>very</i> late."</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm coming, as fast as I can; how +impatient you are, Peggy! You aren't half +as fond of me as I am of you, or you would +not be in such a hurry to get away to that +little fright. There, here it is! Now isn't +that dandy, simply dandy? I do think it is +too perf'ly sweet for anything!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a pretty hat, and Viola certainly +looked charming in it. She was so pleased +with her appearance that she could not resist +the temptation of "showing off" to the other +girls; so she followed Peggy down to the +lawn, where a little group was already gathered. +At sight of a junior, even so unformidable +a junior as Viola Vincent, poor little +Lobelia Parkins shrank into a small knotted +heap of misery. Through Peggy's intercession, +Rose Barclay and the two other freshmen +had been kind to her, and had agreed to +let her share their walks, which they took +now semi-weekly under Peggy's leadership. +None of them cared for her, or felt much +interest in her, but they did care for Peggy +Montfort, partly because she was the strongest +girl in the class, partly because of the fame +that had accrued to her since her exploit in +resisting and breaking up the famous Gang; +but mostly, perhaps, because everybody felt +and said that Peggy Montfort was "all right," +which in schoolgirl parlance meant that she +was a cheerful, kindly, and right-minded girl. +So, though her chief friends were still among<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +the juniors, she was well known and well +liked in her own class.</p> + +<p>Peggy took Lobelia's hand, and drew it +resolutely through her arm.</p> + +<p>"We'll lead the way!" she cried. "Rose +and Viola, you two come next, and Clara and +Ethel bring up the rear. How's that?"</p> + +<p>All agreed to the arrangement; and the six +started off in high spirits.</p> + +<p>"Where are we going to-day?" asked Rose +Barclay. "Don't kill us, Peggy! I haven't +got over being stiff yet, from the last tramp. +It was jolly, though."</p> + +<p>"It was splendid!" chimed in Ethel Bird. +"Why, I had no idea what pretty places there +were about here. Shall we go to the woods +again?"</p> + +<p>"I thought of going up Spy Hill!" said +Peggy. "It isn't very high, and there's a +lovely view from the top."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I never can get as far as that!" cried +Viola, aghast. "You said a little walk, Peggy, +and that is miles and miles, I know it is. Oh, +I think I'll go back."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't!" cried Rose, in a tone of heartfelt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +interest that won Viola's susceptible heart. +"It isn't very far, truly it isn't; and I want +to ask you where you got that hat. It is too +perfectly lovely for anything! I've got to +have a new hat, and I do wish—"</p> + +<p>"My dear!" cried Viola, dimpling all over +with pleasure, "I'll tell you all about it. You +see—"</p> + +<p>There was no more trouble with Viola. +Peggy chuckled, and started off at a round +pace, the others following.</p> + +<p>The two Owls, standing at their window +with arms intertwined, just thinking of taking +a little flutter in the cool of the afternoon, +looked after them with friendly eyes.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with Peggy Montfort?" +said the Fluffy to the Snowy.</p> + +<p>"<i>She's</i> all right!" said the Snowy to the +Fluffy. And then they looked at each other +sternly, and shook their heads in grave rebuke. +"My dear," they said both together, +"we are surprised!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>WHAT WAS THE MATTER WITH LOBELIA +PARKINS?</h3> + + +<p>"Lobelia, I insist upon knowing!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peggy, please don't ask me!"</p> + +<p>"But I will ask you. I do ask you. What +is it that you are afraid of? I shall find out +sooner or later, so you might as well give up +at once and tell me."</p> + +<p>Lobelia looked around her uneasily. She +and Peggy were sitting in a cosy little hollow +under the lee of a great brown rock, waiting +for the others to come up.</p> + +<p>"Come!" said Peggy. "There's nobody +behind that rock. What is the matter with +you, Lobelia Parkins, and why don't you +sleep? Out with it!"</p> + +<p>Lobelia sighed, and twisted her buttons. +"I—I never am a very good sleeper," she +said at last. "I—I'm nervous, Peggy. And +then—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And then, what?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me! I can't tell you. You +won't believe me if I tell you. Things come +into my room and frighten me."</p> + +<p>"Things? What do you mean, Lobelia?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what I mean!" cried the +poor girl, looking about her again, as if in +dread of some unseen terror. "I don't know +who it is, or what it is. Something—or +somebody—comes through my room at night +and goes out of the window."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Peggy. "Well, go on. How +long has this been going on?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, ever so long! At first—Peggy, you +will feel badly if I tell you this."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I've got to feel badly," said +Peggy, stoutly. "Though I can't see what I +have to do with it—so far. I'll have plenty +to do with it from now on!" she added, significantly. +"Go on, Lobelia."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know that time you were so +good to me, Peggy; when Blanche Haight and +those others were teasing me, and you came +in like a lioness and drove them off. I never +shall forget it as long as I live, Peggy, never!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Peggy. "It wasn't anything +at all. Don't be absurd, Lobelia. Well, +what since then?"</p> + +<p>"It began after that. She—I know that +it used to be Blanche Haight then—she used +to come in after I was in bed, and frighten +me. She had a sheet on, and at first I +thought it was a ghost, and I fainted the first +time, I think; and then she used—she used +to make faces and pinch me, and one time I +saw her ring, and so I knew who it was."</p> + +<p>"The cowardly brute!" muttered Peggy. +"It's well for her that she's out of this school. +Now, Lobelia Parkins, why, in the name of +all that is feeble-minded and ridiculous, didn't +you tell me this before?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I couldn't!" said Lobelia. "I had +given you enough trouble, Peggy. And +besides—"</p> + +<p>"Well! besides what?"</p> + +<p>"I was afraid! I was afraid she would +kill me if I told."</p> + +<p>"My goodness gracious <i>me!</i>" cried Peggy, +bouncing on her mossy seat, till Lobelia shrank +away scared and trembling. "Do you think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +we live in the Middle Ages, Lobelia Parkins? +This is what comes of reading history; it +puts all those old-fangled notions into your +head, till you have no sense left. I know! +You had all that stuff about Florence and +Rome, and poisoning, and all that. I had it +too; awful stuff, and probably two-thirds lies. +History is the father of lies, you know; +somebody says so somewhere."</p> + +<p>"I—I thought it was Herodotus who was +called that," Lobelia ventured, timidly.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it was; it's all the same."</p> + +<p>"No, I am wrong. Herodotus was called +the father of history, and then some other +people said he was the father of lies; but now +it has all come true, so he isn't any more!"</p> + +<p>Lobelia, who was stupid and painstaking, +proffered this lucid explanation painfully, and +then gasped; it seemed a liberty for her to +explain anything to anybody.</p> + +<p>"Who cares?" said Peggy. "He's dead, +anyhow. Oh, how it used to provoke my +dearest Margaret when I said that. I only +mean, I never see how it can matter so much +as people think. But you are not dead,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +Lobelia; and the idea of your being killed, +here in this school, in the nineteenth century! +Why, it is absurd, don't you see? It +is funny! You must laugh about it, my +dear!"</p> + +<p>Lobelia, with an effort, produced a watery +smile; seeing which, Peggy's mood changed, +and she laid her hand instantly on the skinny, +shrinking arm.</p> + +<p>"My dear, don't think I was laughing at +<i>you</i>," she cried, warmly. "No; I am going +to be furious in a minute, when I get round to +that part again. Well, but Lobelia, Blanche +Haight is gone now, and a good riddance, and +yet you say you are still afraid. What are +you afraid of?"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know who it is now!" said +Lobelia. "But some one comes through, just +the same."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean, just the same? some +one pinches you?"</p> + +<p>"No! oh, no! this person never speaks to +me or looks at me. It—she—only wants +to go through the window. It has something +light gray over its head and shoulders. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +goes down the fire-escape and stays about +half an hour, and then comes back. I—I +don't mind it so very much, now. I dare +say it's all right, only—I can't sleep very +well, you know."</p> + +<p>"I see!" said Peggy. "Well, I think we +can settle that matter, Lobelia. Hush! here +come the others. We won't say anything +more about it now. Well, girls, how did it +go? Isn't it a lovely little scramble?"</p> + +<p>Rose Barclay and Viola appeared, with the +other two just behind. Viola was panting, +and her delicate colour was deepened by +exertion till she was almost as rosy as her +companion.</p> + +<p>"My dear!" she cried. "You are responsible +for my life! I am killed; simply killed, +Peggy Montfort. I shall never recover from +this awful fatigue, I know I shall not."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Peggy, briefly. "Here! +sit down here, V., and get your breath; you'll +be all right in a minute. It wasn't bad, was +it, Rose?"</p> + +<p>"It was a bit stiff in one place!" Rose +admitted. "I rather think we took the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +wrong turn, Peggy. Did you say left, after +the big pine?"</p> + +<p>"No, right; you didn't come up that +bank? Poor little V.! no wonder she thinks +she is killed. Let me take your hat off, V., +and get you some water or something."</p> + +<p>But Viola refused to part with her hat. +She sat panting and crimson, and seemed +really exhausted. Peggy eyed her with remorse. +"I couldn't know that you would +take the wrong turn, could I?" she said. +"I'm awfully sorry!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but it was fine!" said Ethel Bird. +"How do you find out all these places, +Peggy? This is just lovely, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"By looking," said Peggy. "I like to +poke about, and I came on this the other day. +See, here's a little baby spring, trickling +right out of the rock here. Isn't it pretty? +and the water is clear and cold as ice. Shall +I make you a leaf-cup, Viola? The best way, +though, is to put your mouth down and drink, +this way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I never would do that!" cried Clara +Fair. "Why, a snake might go right down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +your throat, Peggy Montfort; truly it might. +There was a man—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't talk about a man!" cried Rose +Barclay. "How could you, Clara? You +remind me of my German lesson."</p> + +<p>"I never said a word about your German +lesson," said Clara, who was literal and +matter-of-fact.</p> + +<p>"No, but you reminded me," said Rose, +who was imaginative and poetic. "All the +morning I was saying to myself:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Der dickere Mann,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Des dickeren Mannes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Dem dickeren Manne,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Den dickeren Mann.'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"You seem to have learned it, anyhow," +said Peggy, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but that isn't all!" said Rose. +"There is more horror. It goes on, you +know:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Die dickeren Männer,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Der dickeren Männer,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Den dickeren Männern,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Die dickeren Männer.'"</span><br /></div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>"I think foreign languages are the silliest +things in the world!" declared Peggy. +"Well, I do! Such perfect foolishness as they +talk! I have no patience with them."</p> + +<p>"Well, but Peggy, they aren't foreign +when they are at home!" protested Ethel.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I wish they would stay at +home. I don't know whether German is so +bad, though that sounds awful, all that you +said just now, Rose; but I have French; and +I have to try to mince and simper, and twist +my mouth up into all kinds of shapes, just +saying things that are too silly to <i>be</i> said. +I wish there was a law that no one in this +country should ever speak anything but +English. It would be ever so much more +sensible."</p> + +<p>"So it would!" assented Rose. "I say! +what a pity we didn't think to bring something +to eat! I'm awfully hungry, walking +all this way."</p> + +<p>"All this way, Rose!" said Peggy. "Why, +how far do you think it is?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, four or five miles, I'm sure!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it isn't two. Look here, girls,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +what is the reason none of you seem to know +how to walk?"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? We have walked, +haven't we? Here we are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you call this a walk! that's just it, I +tell you. You walk a mile, or two at the +very most, and you think you have done +something wonderful; and poor Viola is all +tired out, and says she will never come again. +Well, but this isn't what <i>I</i> call walking, you +know. Why, I went with the Owls the other +day, and we walked fifteen miles if we did a +step, and it was perfectly glorious. <i>That's</i> +what <i>I</i> call walking, and I do wonder how it +is that none of you ever learned. You are +all strong and well, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>Yes, they were all strong and well; except +Viola, who still declared she had got her +death, and should never recover.</p> + +<p>"Well, but what's the use?" asked Rose. +"I think this is great fun, to come to a pretty +place like this, and sit and talk and look at +the view; but just to go on walking and +stalking along the way you and the Owls do,—what's +the use of it? We are not ostriches,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +and why should we pretend we are? Besides, +it takes such a lot of time."</p> + +<p>"And what would you be doing with your +time?" asked Peggy, hotly. "Reading +stories, or just sitting, sitting, and talking, +talking. My goodness gracious <i>me!</i> the +way some of the girls just sit around all +their spare time, doing nothing, makes me +tired. Why, if I hadn't stalked, as you call +it, how would you have come here to-day, +and seen the prettiest place you ever saw +since you came here—for it is, and you can't +deny it, girls. I do hate to see people doing +nothing. I don't much care what they do, +so long as it is <i>something!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Peggy, you're getting very ferocious, do +you know it?" said Clara Fair. "And, after +all, we did come, and now we are doing just +as much as you are, and why are you shouting +at us?"</p> + +<p>"I won't shout any more," said Peggy, +laughing. "I suppose we all have our hobbies, +haven't we? Walking is one of mine; +and you are going to like it just as much as I +do, girls, before we get through the term.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +Why, there are about twenty of the loveliest +walks, and none of them—hallo!"</p> + +<p>Peggy stopped abruptly, and seemed to +listen.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked Rose. "I +didn't hear anything."</p> + +<p>"I thought I did," said Peggy, quietly. +"Be still a minute, will you?"</p> + +<p>She bent her head. There was a moment +of perfect silence; then, somewhere close at +hand, a singular dry, rattling sound.</p> + +<p>"What a queer noise!" said Ethel. "What +is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's time to go home, girls!" said Peggy. +"You'd better start along, and I'll come behind +you. Come, Viola, give me your hand—so! +Now take her, Rose, and hurry along! +Lobelia, go with them, will you?"</p> + +<p>"What upon earth is the matter, Peggy +Montfort?" asked Rose, eyeing her curiously. +"What do you want to get us out of the way +for? I believe you have found something, +and want to keep it to yourself."</p> + +<p>"Rose, <i>please</i> go!" said Peggy, earnestly. +"I am coming, I tell you. No, not there!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +that way—along by the big pine. Keep +away from the rock—so! Now hurry, and +I'm coming right along."</p> + +<p>The girls hardly knew why they obeyed; +but there was such a singular earnestness in +Peggy's look and gesture that they did not +stay to question her, but one and all—or so +it seemed—turned and hastened down the +side of the hill.</p> + +<p>No sooner were their backs turned than +Peggy, whose keen eyes had been fixed all +this time on one spot, moved swiftly behind +a great rock that stood close by. There, +stooping, she sought with eager hands and +eyes; sought and found a stout stick. She +tried its strength—it was strong and tough. +Then warily she came back, and looked once +more at the pile of withered leaves that had +riveted her attention before. The pile seemed +to move—to undulate; and from it came +once more the dry, rattling sound. Something +reared itself, brown and slender; at the +same instant a shriek rang through the wood. +It did not come from Peggy's lips. Like a +flash, the girl had sprung forward, and caught<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +the snake's neck under her crotched stick, just +as he was raising himself to strike. Pinned +firmly to the earth, the creature could only +twist and wriggle in impotent rage. Looking +around coolly, Peggy saw Lobelia's face peering +around the trunk of a tree, pale with +horror.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said Peggy. "You are a nice +obedient child, aren't you? Since you are +there, you might get me a good stone; he's +all right; he can't get his head round."</p> + +<p>Gasping and trembling, Lobelia found and +brought a stone, which she held out at arm's +length.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peggy!" she whispered. "Is it—is +it a rattlesnake?"</p> + +<p>"That's what!" said Peggy, relapsing into +slang in the absorption of the moment. "He +won't be a rattlesnake much longer, though. +There! now you can look, Lobelia; he's dead. +I tell you he's dead, as dead as Julius Cæsar. +What are you crying for, child?"</p> + +<p>Lobelia came forward, trembling and cringing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peggy, I knew it was. I didn't say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +anything, because I thought you wouldn't +want me to—"</p> + +<p>"Quite right," said Peggy. "Sensible +rabbit!"</p> + +<p>"And—and I am terribly afraid of snakes—oh, +I was sure you would be killed, +Peggy!"</p> + +<p>"And so you came back to be killed with +me? Lobelia, what a foolish girl you are. +There, there, don't cry. Why, the snake isn't +crying, and he really has been killed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Peggy, if you had been killed, I +should have died. I shouldn't have needed +any snake to kill me."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Peggy, gruffly. "Lobelia, +do stop crying. My goodness gracious +<i>me</i>, come along, or we shall have them all +back again after us. I'm going to bring him +too, and get Colney to dry him for me. He's +a beauty! look at him, Lobelia! Not look +at him? Why, I tell you he's dead, as dead +as—who was he?—the Father of Lies! +Come along, now."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>THE TERROR BY NIGHT.</h3> + + +<p>All was quiet in No. 18, Corridor C. It +was the room directly above Peggy; and was +tenanted, as we have seen, by Lobelia Parkins. +Lobelia was in bed at this moment, +though it was before the usual bedtime. She +had felt ill and dizzy-brained for several days, +and Peggy had begged her to go to bed early +and get a good long sleep. Peggy herself lay +on a mattress on the floor. It was against +the rule, but for once the law-abiding Peggy +was wilfully breaking the rule. She felt strong +in Miss Russell's confidence in her; and she +meant to find out who and what it was that +was "frightening Lobelia silly," as she expressed +it. Accordingly, here she was, in her +wrapper, with a blanket rolled around her. +The night was warm, and the window was +thrown wide open, Peggy having been brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +up to love fresh air. Lobelia shivered, but +would rather have frozen stiff than say a +word, if Peggy preferred to have the room +cold. Each girl hoped the other was asleep. +Lobelia hardly dared to breathe; she lay still +as a mouse, feeling a delightful sense of comfort +and security, such as she had not felt since +she came to this nightmare of a place. Not +to be alone any more, with the night and the +terrible things it brought; to have this +friend, so strong, so kind, so helpful, lying +close beside the bed, ready to help, to comfort,—Lobelia's +poor shrinking spirit took +courage, and she held her breath now and +then, for the pure pleasure of hearing Peggy's +calm, regular breathing. Surely she must be +asleep! She could not breathe like that unless +she were sleeping quietly. Oh, might nothing +happen to break her friend's rest!</p> + +<p>Peggy was very nearly asleep, it was true. +She had meant to stay awake as long as there +was any possibility of any one's coming into +the room. She was valiantly wide awake at +first, and lay blinking at the moon, which +Was shining in the most obliging manner full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +upon the spot where she lay. Peggy wondered +what those mountains were like which +made the strange figures on the broad, silver +disk. They must be tremendous! Think of +them, miles high, with deep, awful valleys +between, and all dead and white and dry like +bone. And all they seemed to be good for +now was for us to make faces and things out +of, and stories—to please—the—children. +Peggy was getting very sleepy. She opened +her eyes wider, and stared harder at the +moon. It seemed to be staring back. They +were certainly eyes, not—mountains—and +one of them was winking at her; and now +she seemed to hear a sound, a voice, coming +from far, far—ages away, and saying, +whispering—</p> + +<p>Then, all in a moment, sleep, and the moon +and its mountains were as if they had never +been.</p> + +<p>The door opened, swiftly and noiselessly, +and some one darted in,—a tall, slender figure, +with gray drapery over the head and +shoulders. It turned and halted, facing the +door. Peggy sprang up in bull-dog silence,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +and was about to fling herself bodily on the +intruder; but an arm thrown out, a familiar +gesture, a whispered word, checked her, and +she stood motionless, hardly drawing breath. +Next moment footsteps were heard in the +corridor, as of some one hastening, and making +every effort to be silent. The door was +pushed hastily open, and Miss Pugsley stood +on the threshold. She was panting, and her +dress was disarranged.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she cried, in a spiteful whisper. +"I have caught you at last, have I? I know +you, miss! No need to hide your face! I +know you well enough, and this is the end +of your fine doings. Lift up that veil, I +command you!"</p> + +<p>The gray figure advanced toward her one +step, and lifted the veil; and even Peggy's +stout heart turned to water within her. Miss +Pugsley recoiled with a wild shriek from the +waxen countenance, the hollow burning eyes, +the fleshless, grinning lips; recoiled, staggered, +and fled back moaning along the +corridor. The gray figure dropped its veil +and darted in pursuit. Peggy, running to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +the door, saw them vanish around the corner; +then she returned, to find Lobelia fallen into +a dead faint, her head hanging over the side +of the bed.</p> + +<p>As she bent over her anxiously, rubbing +her hands and trying to rouse her, a single +board creaked in the corridor; next moment +the gray figure entered again, this time +quietly and without hurry. The veil was +thrown back, revealing a well-known face. +The hideous death's head was now carried in +the hand.</p> + +<p>"Sorry if I alarmed you, Innocent!" said +Grace Wolfe. "What in the name of unreason +are you doing here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grace, she has fainted!" cried Peggy. +"Help me! Bring some water, do!"</p> + +<p>Grace vanished again, and was back in two +minutes with water and smelling-salts. As +they bent over the unconscious girl, bathing +her temples and holding the salts to her nose, +a few hurried sentences were exchanged.</p> + +<p>"What was it? What have you there, +Grace?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/gs07.png" width="404" height="300" alt=""'OH, GRACE, SHE HAS FAINTED!'"" title=""'OH, GRACE, SHE HAS FAINTED!'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'OH, GRACE, SHE HAS FAINTED!'"</span> +</div> + +<p>"Oh, nothing; merely Colney's skull; not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +her own, you understand, but that of her +charmer."</p> + +<p>"But—but the eyes glared! I saw them +glare, like fire."</p> + +<p>"Phosphorus, my sweet babe! Hast no +chemistry to thy name? 'Twere well to +mend thy ways."</p> + +<p>"And why—what were you doing, Grace? +Oh, see what you have done! Look at this +poor child, and tell me why you came to play +such pranks in her room."</p> + +<p>Peggy's voice was stern enough. She forgot +her love and admiration for Grace; she +only saw what seemed like wanton cruelty +toward a forlorn and helpless creature, and +her blood was up.</p> + +<p>Grace shrugged her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," she said. "I am even very +sorry, Innocent. What more would you +have? I didn't mean to come in; indeed, I +had no thought of the little creature at all. +I had a vow that the next time that woman +looked through my keyhole she should repent +it. I think she did. If she does it again, I'll +shoot her; I've just told her so."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why—how did you know? What did +she do?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, child, I can't always tell you how I +know things. I feel them in my bones. This +is full moon, and it was borne in upon me that +she thought I would be up to something to-night, +and would be upon the watch; so I +went on the watch, too. I arranged a pretty +scene of confusion in my room, open window, +things all thrown about,—just as it would +look if I had been having a lark; left the +light burning, went and borrowed this soulful +smiler, and treated it a little,—no, Colney +knows nothing about it; no use in getting her +into trouble; then I took my mosquito-netting +mantle, and hid in the broom-closet near my +door. Sure enough, I hadn't been there long +when along comes my Puggy, in felt slippers, +and looks in at my keyhole. I waited, to +make sure, then I came gliding past, without +observing her, you see, corridor being pretty +dark. She observed me, however, and pursued. +I led her quite a pretty dance, till I +thought her breath would be getting short, +and then I turned in here, partly because it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +was handy, partly because—well, I have +been in the habit of passing through here, +when the kid was asleep. See! she's opening +her eyes. Speak to her, you! She's more +used to you."</p> + +<p>Peggy lifted Lobelia's head into her lap. +"How are you now, dear?" she asked, stroking +the thin hair affectionately. "Lobelia, +it's Peggy! You are all right; there's no +one here, no one to hurt you. That—that +was only a trick, Lobelia."</p> + +<p>Lobelia moaned, but made no reply. Grace +leaned forward. "Peggy is right," she said, +softly. "It was a trick, Lobelia, and not +meant for you at all. I—I never thought +about you, I'm afraid. Do you feel better +now? I'm truly sorry, my dear."</p> + +<p>There was no answering look of intelligence +in Lobelia's face. She lay shivering, with +wide, frightened eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grace, I'm afraid she's ill!" said +Peggy. "See! she doesn't seem to know us. +What shall we do? Lobelia! Do look at me! +Do speak to me! Oh, Grace, what shall we +do? Where are you going?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am going to call Miss Russell," said +Grace.</p> + +<p>Miss Russell came presently, and looked +very grave when she saw Lobelia's face, which +was now flushed with fever, her eyes still +staring wide, as if they saw some dreadful +vision.</p> + +<p>"What has happened?" she said, briefly. +"I must have the truth!"</p> + +<p>Grace told her the truth, every word, not +keeping back anything: merely adding that +Peggy had nothing to do with it all.</p> + +<p>"And what were you doing here, Peggy?" +asked Miss Russell.</p> + +<p>Peggy explained. "I meant to tell whatever +I found out, to-morrow, Miss Russell," +she added. "I thought you would want me +to discover what—what had been going on."</p> + +<p>Miss Russell nodded. "Go to your rooms +now, girls," was all she said. "Or—no; +Peggy, ask Miss Cortlandt to send at once for +Doctor Hendon. Grace, you will remain in +your room till I come to you."</p> + +<p>Grace tried to rise in obedience; but the +sick girl grasped her dress, and held it tight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +"Don't leave me," she said, in a hardly audible +whisper.</p> + +<p>"You don't want me, you poor thing!" +said Grace; and though she spoke low, her +tone was very bitter. "Let me go, and you +shall never see me again. Don't trouble +about me, Miss Russell. I'll pack my trunk, +and be off in the morning before any one is +awake."</p> + +<p>"You will do as I tell you," said Miss Russell, +quietly. "Peggy, go quickly! Now, +my poor child, let me take your hand. Move +softly, Grace, and I think you can slip away."</p> + +<p>Grace tried once more to loosen the hold of +the cramped, skinny hand, but Lobelia only +clutched the tighter; and now, in her delirium, +she caught Grace's hand with her +other one, and held it tight, tight. "Don't +leave me!" she muttered. "Peggy, Peggy, +don't leave me!"</p> + +<p>Upon this, Grace looked up at Miss Russell; +the hard, defiant look was gone, the wild blue +eyes were swimming in tears. "Let me stay," +she murmured. "Miss Russell, let me stay +with her. I'll go away after she gets well.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +She thinks I am Peggy, and you know I am a +good nurse. Let me stay and take care of +her, and I will bless you all my life, even if I +never see you again."</p> + +<p>"You shall stay," said Miss Russell. "My +poor Grace, this may be the hardest and heaviest +punishment I could give you. You shall +stay, and see what your cruel and wilful carelessness +has brought to pass. God help us +and you!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>WAITING.</h3> + + +<p>In the dreadful days that followed, Grace +Wolfe hardly left the sick girl's side. The +doctor came, and pronounced the trouble a +brain fever, brought on by fear and worry. +A trained nurse came and took charge. +Lobelia submitted to her care, but her one +conscious instinct was that of clinging to +Grace. Whether, as seemed most probable, +she took her for Peggy, or whether she simply +felt and craved the magnetism of the +wild girl's touch and presence, they could not +tell; but she was never quiet save when +Grace's hand was resting on her. Her aunt +came, her sole living relative; and seeing +her, poor Lobelia was explained. Prim, +fussy, and forbidding, her rich dress showing +the same utter tastelessness that marked that +of her niece, Miss Parkins was not the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +woman one would have chosen to be the +mother of a girl like Lobelia. She looked at +the sick girl, and said it was very unfortunate; +she was always having illnesses, and +had given them no end of anxiety.</p> + +<p>"She has had everything that money could +buy!" she said, over and over. "It has +never seemed to make any difference; her +mother was the same sort of person, unreasonable, +always wanting what she couldn't +have. My brother had a great deal of trouble +with her, and Lobelia is like her. I have +tried to do my duty by her. Do you think +she will get well, doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do think she will get well!" +replied Doctor Hendon, glaring at her in a +way that made Miss Russell feel alarm for her +safety. "I think she will get well if she +stays here, and has care and tenderness and +sympathetic treatment. You are her sister?" +He turned upon Grace, who sat beside the bed, +passing her light hand over the sick girl's +forehead with smooth, regular strokes.</p> + +<p>"No," said Miss Russell. "This is one +of the pupils, Miss Wolfe. She—was in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +room when this attack came on, and Lobelia +has clung to her from the first in a singular +manner. I did not dare to remove +her, and so, as you see, she has simply +stayed here, helping the nurse."</p> + +<p>"I see!" said the doctor. "I suppose +she was—hum! stay close by her!" this +was to Grace. "You have a touch, I see. +Probably you have been kind to her,—poor, +forlorn, miserable little creature as ever I saw +in my life!" The last words were hurried out +as if they were one, in a gruff, not to say +savage whisper.</p> + +<p>Grace looked up at him. "I am the cause +of her illness," she said, quietly. "I have +never been kind to her, or taken any notice +of her. I have come through her room, +using it for a passage when I was breaking +bounds, and have frightened her—to death."</p> + +<p>The doctor looked at her under his bushy +eyebrows. "That may all be so!" he said. +"All the same, you may now have the chance +of saving her life. Stay by her, that's all I +have to say to you."</p> + +<p>"And what have you to say to me, doctor?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +asked Miss Parkins. "I have a great +responsibility. Lobelia will inherit a large +fortune if she lives. She has had everything +that money—"</p> + +<p>"You can go home!" said Doctor Hendon, +with a sudden movement suggestive of biting. +"Go home, and stay there—I—mean, have +things ready for her when she is ready for a +change. Good morning! Ya-ouw!" this last +was a manner of snarl with which he favoured +Miss Parkins as he trotted out of the +room. The lady stared after him. "Is he a +little touched?" she asked. "He doesn't +seem quite sane."</p> + +<p>Miss Russell assured her that Doctor Hendon +was eminently sane, and got her out of +the room as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>Grace remained, and hour by hour kept +her watch at the sick girl's pillow, laying her +magic touch on the burning brow, singing the +soft songs that seemed more than anything +else to soothe the sufferer. So sitting, hour +by hour, day after day, the old life seemed to +slip away from Grace Wolfe. She felt it +going, felt the change coming on spirit and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +thought, but made no effort to hinder the +change. All the restlessness, the wild longing +for freedom, the beating her head against +the friendly bars,—where was it now? She +was content to sit here, watching with the +nurse the changes that came over the face of +their patient. They talked together in low +voices which soothed rather than disturbed; +one asking, the other relating, the woman +of experience and the eager girl exchanged +thoughts and confidences. Many times in +the day the girls came to the door, Peggy +and the Owls, and now and then an anxious, +frightened freshman. Peggy had longed to +assist in the nursing, but she had too heavy +a hand, and hers was not the gift. Gertrude +Merryweather had it, and she sometimes +took Grace's place, and sent her down +for a breath of fresh air and a run with +Bertha or Peggy on the lawn. Grace went +obediently, for she knew she must keep up +her strength; but she was always back again +at the first possible instant, and her thoughts +never seemed to go with her, but stayed at +her post.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My dear," said Miss Russell once, "I +cannot let you wear yourself out. Let Gertrude +watch to-night while Miss Carter rests!" +But Grace only said, "I'd give my life if I +could, Miss Russell. She's going to get well +if my life can do it!" and Miss Russell, looking +into the blue eyes and meeting the spirit +of resolution that shone there, could only kiss +the girl's cheek and pass on.</p> + +<p>Lobelia was very ill, and a shadow hung +over the whole school. Lessons went on as +usual, but the girls spoke low in their recitations, +and there was an unconscious hurry in +both teachers and pupils, all anxious to get +through, to ask and hear the last tidings from +the sickroom. In those days, too, teachers +and pupils learned to know each other as +never before. The grave women who cared so +much—so strangely much, it often seemed—whether +a lesson were well or ill learned, who +made such a fuss about trifles, and set such +hard tasks, and made such unreasonable +rules, behold! they were just as anxious and +troubled as if Lobelia had been one of their +own number, instead of the most insignificant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +freshman in the whole school. Miss Boyle +was not simply a mathematical machine, Rose +Barclay found out. She really cared about +them, cared enough to call them into her +room, and want to hear all about that last +walk, when Peggy had killed the rattlesnake,—oh, +how brave Peggy had been,—and how +poor Lobelia had seen it, too, and with her +inborn terror of snakes had perhaps got the +first panic that, after brooding and brooding, +and being added to the terror by nights, had +ended in this.</p> + +<p>Miss Pugsley was gone. Her departure +had hardly been noticed, was well-nigh forgotten +by this time; but Colney Hatch found +Miss Mink sniffing mouse-like sniffs in a +corner, and wept with her, and offered her a +live bat that she had just caught, by way of +consolation. But their tears were for Grace, +for they hardly knew Lobelia save by sight.</p> + +<p>As for Miss Russell and Emily Cortlandt, +they were the life and stay of the school in +these days. Steadfast and cheerful, always +hopeful, bringing forward every favourable +symptom and sharing it with the whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +school; not a girl of all the seventy-odd who +did not feel their sympathy and friendship +like strong hands ready to take theirs and +uphold them.</p> + +<p>One day, when things were at the worst, +Peggy found Viola in her room, crying on the +divan.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" she asked, rather +briefly. Viola's troubles seemed microscopic +in this time of heart-wringing anxiety.</p> + +<p>Viola raised her head, and her eyes were +red with weeping.</p> + +<p>"They say she's going to die, Peggy!" +she said.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Peggy, gruffly. "Who +says so?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, all the girls. They say Doctor Hendon +shook his head when he went out this morning; +you know that's a very bad sign. Oh, +Peggy, I wish I had been good to the poor +little thing. You have always been good to +her. I don't believe you suffered as much +as I did from her clothes, but I wish I had +been good to her all the same. Peggy, if +she gets well, I'm going to do over her hats<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +for her, and try to make her look different. +Peggy, where are you going? Don't leave +me! Lobelia is going to die, and I feel so +frightened."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she is going to die," said +Peggy. "I am going to the study to see +Miss Russell; come with me if you like, +V."</p> + +<p>Viola crept along beside her, cowering in +Peggy's shadow as they passed the door of +the sick-room. Peggy paused to listen. +From within came the sound of soft singing, +and the faint rustle of a wood fire. What +was Grace singing? one of the quaint French +songs that she loved,—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Trois anges sont venus ce soir,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">M'apportaient de bien belles choses;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">L'un d'eux avaient un encensoir,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Le deuxième un chapelet de roses.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Et le troisième avait en main</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Une robe toute fleurie,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">De perles, d'or et de jasmin,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Comme en a Madame Marie.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">Noël! Noël!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Nous venons du ciel,</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">T'apporter ce que tu desires;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Car le bon Dieu,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Au fond du ciel bleu,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A chagrin lorsque tu soupires!"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>The two girls crept softly past, Viola +wiping the tears from her eyes. They went +down to the study, and, knocking gently, +were bidden to enter. Miss Russell and Miss +Cortlandt were sitting together, and at their +feet sat the Snowy and the Fluffy Owls, +curled up on two hassocks. Peggy looked in +timidly.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Peggy!" said Miss Russell's +cheerful voice. "Who is that with you? Oh, +Viola? come in, my dear! Do you want anything?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Russell," said Peggy. "I—I +just wanted to come in, that was all."</p> + +<p>"So did we!" said the Fluffy. "We just +came, and we feel so much better. Sit down +here, Peggy."</p> + +<p>She patted the floor beside her, and Peggy +and Viola sat down. Peggy heaved a sigh of +relief. "I thought you would let us come," +she said. "It's so dreadful not to be able to +do anything, isn't it, Miss Russell? If we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +could help in any way, or feel that we were +doing anything at all, it wouldn't be so bad. +I came by the door just now, and Grace was +singing, and it all sounded so quiet and peaceful. +You think it is all going well, don't you, +Miss Russell? You don't think she is worse +to-day, do you, Miss Russell?"</p> + +<p>Miss Russell put back Peggy's hair, which +had fallen into her eyes as she looked up +eagerly. "Dear," she said, "I was just telling +Gertrude and Bertha how it is. Doctor +Hendon thinks there will be a change to-day; +he thinks the crisis is coming. It is a time +of great danger, but he has good hope, and +we must have it, too. And, girls, you are all +longing to help; now, you can help us to-day. +You can help very much indeed. The house +must be kept absolutely quiet this afternoon. +The girls are in their rooms now; but if you +could get them off for a walk, some of them, +and send the rest to the gymnasium, you +would be doing us all a service. Miss Cortlandt +is going to the gymnasium, and she +will give them a drill, or let them dance, if +they like—you don't think they feel like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +dancing? No more do I! I shall not leave +Lobelia's room myself till the change comes; +I am going back there now, as soon as the +doctor comes. Ah! there he is now! Remember, +dear girls, quiet; and for the rest, +hope and patience—and trust!"</p> + +<p>She kissed them each in turn, quietly and +gravely, and was gone. Turning to Emily +Cortlandt, they saw that her eyes were full +of tears; yet she spoke cheerfully. "Miss +Russell is so wise, girls!" she said. "I am +sure you will do all you can—it is an anxious +time. One thing she forgot to say,—I +wouldn't let the other girls know, if you can +help it, how grave the danger is. Some of +them are nervous, and might have hysterics, +or even be ill. Viola, my child, you look +very pale. Don't you feel well?"</p> + +<p>Viola was trembling all over. She came +close to Miss Cortlandt and nestled up to +her like a little child. "I'm afraid!" she +said, simply. "I never was near where anybody +died. I'm dreadfully afraid, Miss Cortlandt."</p> + +<p>Very gently Emily Cortlandt spoke then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +to the frightened child, and to the other three +girls, whose strong, sensible faces were grave +enough, but who were able to possess themselves +in courage and quiet. She told them +some of her thoughts, the thoughts of a +gentle Christian woman; of the hope and +love and promise that made death seem to her +only the white door that led into life, a life +toward which we must all look, and for +which we must shape ourselves as we pass +through this world of joy and sorrow. She +told them of young lives which had seemed +cruelly cut off here; and of how it was her +thought that death had been to them not the +end, but the beginning; and of the lovely +light they had shed behind them, of gentleness +and hope and love. Then she spoke +more brightly, and told them how strong, +after all, life was in the young, and how one +could always hope, while even a spark remained. +Doctor Hendon had good hope, she +repeated, and they must have it, too.</p> + +<p>"And now," she said, "I must go, and you +must go, too. Find the girls quietly, and +bring them to me, or take them out for one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +of your good walks; and let us, whatever we +do, do it cheerfully!"</p> + +<p>Faithfully the Owls and Peggy laboured, +that November afternoon. First they soothed +and comforted Viola, finishing the good work +that Miss Cortlandt had begun; and they +induced her to go to the gymnasium and take +a party with her. Then they went about +softly from door to door through the corridors, +not spreading any alarm, merely saying +that Miss Russell thought they would +all better go out, as the afternoon was so +fine, and that they were to go quietly, as +Lobelia might be asleep. Before long, without +noise or confusion, the whole school was +out, either in the gymnasium or on the road. +The walkers divided into three parties, +Peggy leading the freshmen, Gertrude the +juniors, while Bertha marshalled the sophomores, +who came like lambs, half proud, half +shy, at being under the leadership of the renowned +Fluffy. The seniors, of course, could +be trusted to take care of themselves. They +were a small class, and somehow—as happens +in every school with one class and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +another—had never made themselves a +power; they had gone now with the rest +to the gymnasium.</p> + +<p>Peggy, as she walked at the head of her +troop, tried to feel her cousin Margaret's +hand in hers. Always humble, and distrustful +of her own powers, she tried hard to think +what Margaret would do in her place. She +would tell stories, probably, wonderful stories +of heroes and great deeds. Ah! but Peggy +did not know the stories in the books; they +never stayed by her. Well, then, she must +tell what she did know! She found herself +talking about her home life, the home on the +great Western ranch; of her father and +brothers, and the many feats in their strong, +active life. Here, if she had only known it, +were stories better than any in Margaret's +books. How Brother Jim hunted the white +wolf for three days in the mountains; how +Hugh set the trap for the young grizzly, and +more wonderful, how he tamed him and made +him his friend and servant; how Father +Montfort saved the three men who were +snowed up in Desolation Gulch, and brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +them out one by one on his shoulders, just as +their last biscuit was gone and they had sat +down to die,—on and on went the tale, for it +was a story without an end. On and on +went the girls, too, unconscious of their +going, forgetting to think they were tired, +forgetting everything save the joy of listening. +The shadows were lengthening fast +when Peggy, still relating, turned her face +homeward, wondering with thankfulness, as +she noted the position of the sun, how she +had been able to take them so far without +once hearing a groan or a sigh of weariness. +She looked around, and saw only sparkling +eyes and rosy cheeks. "A month ago," she +thought, "they would have said I had almost +killed them. They really are hardening, and +I'm so glad!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, go on, Peggy!" cried Rose Barclay. +"You are never going to stop there! What +became of the one with the wooden leg? +We must know!"</p> + +<p>On went the story, and on went the girls; +the sun sank lower and lower, the shadows +crept longer and longer, the air grew cool and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +thin with the coming night. The man with +the wooden leg had chopped it up for fuel, +and Father Montfort had brought him and all +the others in triumph to the ranch, and set +them down by the fire, when— "Oh, dear +me!" cried Ethel Fair. "What a shame, +girls! Here we are at the gate. I say! let's +go on a little farther, Peggy."</p> + +<p>But Peggy was wise, and knew when to +stop; besides, now that she was near the +house again, the anxiety and distress that had +been lulled by the walk and the story-telling, +came back like a flood, and filled her heart. +They were crossing the lawn; what tidings +would greet them at the door? Some one was +standing there now; Miss Cortlandt, was it? +no, Miss Russell herself. She was waiting for +them with the news; would it be good or +bad? Peggy hung back for an instant; then +she walked steadily forward. "Quiet, girls!" +was all she said. "I think Miss Russell has +something to tell us."</p> + +<p>They were at the foot of the steps now; +and Miss Russell was coming down to meet +them, running, the grave and stately woman,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +to meet them, like a girl. Her hands were +outstretched, her face was all aglow with joy, +the glad tears ran down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"It is over!" she whispered. "Softly, my +dear children. Come softly in. The crisis is +over, and the child will live! Come with me, +and let us thank God together!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE END AND THE BEGINNING.</h3> + + +<p>It was a month later. The first snow had +fallen, and the lawn was white with it, and +all the trees and bushes powdered with frost. +Coming out of the class-room one day, her +heart singing of sines and cosines and tangents, +Peggy found the Snowy and the Fluffy +waiting for her at the door, with radiant +faces.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what?" cried Peggy. "A letter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Gertrude. "It has just come, +though the postmark is two or three days ago. +Where shall we go to read it? Your room, +Peggy? So we will; it's nearer than the +Nest, and I know you can't wait."</p> + +<p>Grace's letters were indeed things to wait +for in those days. She had gone to Lobelia's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +home with her; for, on coming to herself, the +invalid had still clung to her new friend, with +a persistency strange in one so timid and fearful. +Convalescence came, with its unwilling +fretfulness, its fits of unreason. Still Lobelia +clung to Grace, and no one else could make +her listen and obey. The nurse laughed, and +said she might as well go, and leave her diploma +with Miss Wolfe; yet stayed, for the +two worked together in pleasant harmony and +friendship. At last, Doctor Hendon ordered +a change of scene, and now, too, Grace must +go with her. The Parkins mansion was +within driving distance of Pentland; the +whole school had turned out to see the departure, +the sick girl lying on cushions, her +thin face already showing the signs of returning +health, and really transfigured by the +light of love and gratitude that beamed from +it, as she looked from Grace to Peggy, and +back again to Grace. She beckoned to Peggy, +who pressed to her side and bent over her. +"What is it, dear?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Peggy!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Lobelia."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Peggy, you don't mind?"</p> + +<p>"Mind what? I don't mind anything, now +that you are getting well."</p> + +<p>"You—you were my first friend, the only +friend I had. You don't mind—that I love +her? I couldn't help it, Peggy. She kept +me alive, you see. Often and often, when I +was drifting away, and ready to die, she held +me, and would not let me go. You are sure +you don't mind, Peggy?"</p> + +<p>Peggy kissed her heartily, and told her not +to talk nonsense. "If you didn't love her," +she said, "I'd have nothing to do with you, +Lobelia Parkins. Do you hear that? Nothing! +I wouldn't speak to you in the street, +if I met you."</p> + +<p>Lobelia smiled, and leaned back on the +cushions with closed eyes and a look of absolute +content. "You are so funny, Peggy!" +she murmured. "She is funny, too. I like +people who are funny. Good-bye, and thank +everybody. Everybody is so kind!"</p> + +<p>The carriage drove away, and the last thing +the girls saw was Grace's face, looking down +at her charge; grave as ever,—Grace rarely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +smiled, and they hardly knew the sound of +her laugh,—but bright as Lobelia's own with +love and purpose and gladness. So they +passed out of sight.</p> + +<p>And since then had come letters every week, +telling of the child's progress; one to Miss +Russell always, and one to the Owls or to +Peggy. It was one of these that Gertrude +took from her pocket now and opened, as they +sat together on Peggy's divan.</p> + +<p>"You see, it is dated three days ago; probably +been carried in a pocket, from the look +of it."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Snowy, also Fluffy</span>:—Tu whit! She +has been gaining so fast this week, we shall soon forget +she has been ill at all. She can eat anything she +likes, and she likes a great deal. Miss P. keeps exclaiming +at her appetite. Apparently the child never +ate anything before she went to school. The rule of +the house is, or was, one shredded wheat Abomination +for breakfast, one chop for dinner, one smoked herring +for supper. All this served on huge and hideous +silver dishes. This order is changed. Miss Parkins +almost fainted when I ordered the first meal. She +weeps every day over the butcher's book, but the +child fattens apace, and all is well. I had to frighten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +her—the aunt—a little, though, before things went +smoothly.</p> + +<p>"Yesterday we explored the house, the Babe and +I. The amazing thing is that she lived at all after +she got her eyes open. Apparently every article cost +a thousand dollars; most awful old mausoleum you +can imagine; you never saw such a place, for there +couldn't be two. The bed I sleep in has all-round +curtains of apple-green plush, with bead fringe three +inches deep. The mantelpiece and table-top and so +on are gray marble, and the ornaments are two +deformed gilt cherubs holding a slop-jar with a +clock-face in the middle of it. Also two unspeakable +alabaster jugs, three feet high, and two Parian +busts under glass cases. They are supposed to be +Luther and Melanchthon; I think they are Lucifer +and Mammon. Well, the poor little thing is used to +it, and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'does't'">doesn't</ins> know what is the matter. Wait till +Monday week,—I mean till some future day,—and +she shall know, but not now. She doesn't think it +a homelike house, she says!</p> + +<p>"I shall be coming back almost any time now, as +soon as I can get away. It's dreadful to leave her,—'I'm +wae to think upo' yon den, e'en for her sake,'—but +I must get back before exams, and she is really +all right, only not of course wholly strong yet. She +will come back next term; and meanwhile she is to +travel with an old servant who was her nurse, and +who has some spark of humanity in her composition.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm coming back, I tell you; at least, something +is coming back. I don't say whether it will be the +Goat or the Wolf, or what; I'm pretty sure that—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Lawk a mercy on me,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;">This is none of I!'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Good-bye, you feathered things! How do feathers +feel? How do you get about? There are good points +about the creature, I can see that; you can see in the +dark—but so could the Wolf! and it would be nice to +be able to ruffle up your feathers and put a tongue +in every wound of Puggy's—but she is gone, isn't +she? Alas! and if you don't know Shakespeare when +I talk him, why, you are an ignorant set, and don't +deserve your names. This is for the Innocent, too, +mind! Give her my love, and tell her—never mind; +I'll tell her myself.</p> + +<p>"So no more at present, Respected Fowls, from +your most obedient, humble servant,</p> + +<div class='sig'> +"<span class="smcap">The Hybrid</span>."<br /> +</div></div> + +<p>The three girls were silent for a moment +after Gertrude had folded the letter again. +Then, "Do you suppose she will really be +changed?" asked Peggy. "I—I don't think +I want Grace to be changed, do you, girls?"</p> + +<p>"That depends!" said Bertha, with her +chin on her hands, in her favourite judicial<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +attitude. "Of course it would be despair if +we should lose her real, true self. If she could +only stay Grace Wolfe, and change her point +of view, why, then—"</p> + +<p>"That is just what she will do, I feel sure +of it," said Gertrude, earnestly. "She has +been through an experience—oh, we can't +know what it has been, girls, because we are +just plain people, you know, and Grace is—well, +I think she has genius, or something +very like it. If only the power and the sweetness +and brightness are turned into helping, +you see, instead of hindering—oh, how +much she can do! and I believe she's going +to do it, too. But come, Fluffy, I must go +home. Won't you come, Peggy? We have +half an hour before study-time."</p> + +<p>Peggy followed only too gladly along the +corridor; it was always a treat to spend half +an hour in the Owl's Nest. Gertrude was +first; she opened the door of her room, and +paused on the threshold with a low cry. +Bertha and Peggy hurried forward and looked +over her shoulder—to see a strange sight.</p> + +<p>Something—or somebody—was sitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +on the window-seat. Something gray and +soft. It had a round feathered head, with +two feathery horns jutting from it; it had +round bright eyes, which blinked curiously +at the astonished girls. Below the head were—arms, +were they, or wings? They were +feathery too, and they drooped over something +that might be a skirt, though no feet +were visible. In the gathering twilight the +figure sat on the window-seat and blinked, +looking like nothing that was in heaven or +earth; and the three girls stood and stared, +holding each other's hands. Presently the +silence was broken.</p> + +<p>"Bubo Virginianus!" said a grave, melodious +voice from under the feathers. "The +Great Horned Owl. Description: Large and +strongly organised; ear-tufts large, erectile; +bill strong, fully curved; wing rather long; +third quill usually longest; tail short; legs +and toes—"</p> + +<p>"Grace!" cried Gertrude Merryweather.</p> + +<p>"Tu whit!" replied the figure. "I may +also in this connection remark, tu whoo! +This well-known bird is a resident in all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +New England schools—I should say States—throughout +the year. It is not so common +in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and +Rhode Island as in the other States, where, +in the vast tracts of forest, it is quite +abundant. Samuels. Easy there! spare the +Plumage!"</p> + +<p>The three girls had flung themselves upon +the strange figure, which flapped its arms for +a moment, as if contemplating flight. Then, +waving them off with one arm, it lifted the +feathered head, and gazed at them with +melancholy blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"Tu whit!" repeated the Scapegoat. "I +may be allowed, <i>in</i> this connection, to repeat, +tu whoo! Don't kill me, Innocent; I should +be less useful dead."</p> + +<p>It did seem as if they would hug her to +death. They laughed, they cried, they questioned, +they talked, all in one breath; no one +would have recognised the sedate Owls or the +sensible Peggy. Grace regarded them with +grave benignity, as she untied the owl's head, +and loosed the feathered cape from her +shoulders.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rather neat, I thought?" she said, turning +the head around on her hand. "The beak +is a little wobbly, but the general character—eh?—is +pretty good? I couldn't manage the +toes and claws; there wasn't time, and, +besides, they would have excited remark, +even if the weather had been warm enough +to make them comfortable for travelling. +Well, my Snowy, my Fluffy, how is it? Is +there room for another Owl in the forest?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Grace!" cried Bertha.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear!" cried Gertrude; and their +arms were around her again, while Peggy +sat down on the floor and fairly burst into +tears.</p> + +<p>Grace was silent for a little, her head resting +on Gertrude's shoulder. When she spoke, +her voice had not its usual even flow, but +hesitated, almost faltered, now and then.</p> + +<p>"I am going to try!" she said. "It will +take a long time, my Owls, and you will have +to be very patient with me. I shall probably +never be wholly domesticated, but—but you +will help me, and the Innocent here will help +me; won't you, Innocent?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Grace, if I only could? but what can +I do? I don't see how I can ever do +anything!"</p> + +<p>"You began it all!" said Grace. "The +way you looked—that night I made you go +out, little Peggy. You didn't know, but the +face of an Innocent can be a terrible thing, +and I saw, and knew—things I hadn't +known before. No need of going back to +that now. But—Snowy—Samuels says I +make an amusing pet in captivity. You'll +try me?"</p> + +<p>"Won't we!" cried the Snowy Owl. +"Grace, dear, we'll all try together. Oh, we +all have to keep trying, don't we, all our +lives long? It wouldn't be worth anything if +we didn't have to try, to work and fight for +it. It shall be we three against the world,—the +Snowy, the Fluffy, and the Horny. No, +we four, for what should we do without our +Peggy? Get up, Peggy, you ridiculous child; +stop crying, and come and sit here close by +us."</p> +<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;"> +<img src="images/gs08.png" width="320" height="300" alt=""'WE FOUR AGAINST THE WORLD!'"" title=""'WE FOUR AGAINST THE WORLD!'"" /> +<span class="caption">"'WE FOUR AGAINST THE WORLD!'"</span> +</div> +<p>"Oh!" cried Peggy. "Isn't there some +kind of Owl that I could be? I am too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +stupid, of course, but I might be a screech-owl, +don't you think so, Snowy?"</p> + +<p>Grace held up her hand. "Forbid the +thought!" she said, gravely. "Who would +get us our mice? We must have a Human +Being connected with us. I think of moving +into Bedlam, as Colney has a fine assortment +of mice on hand generally. I refuse bats, +probably on account of the strong musky +odour, but a mouse dragged across the floor +of my cage fills me with excitement. Samuels, +part of it at least. No, we must have a +Human Being in the Owlery, and that Human +Being must be the Innocent. We Four +against the World, then! Hands on it, my +Owls!"</p> + +<p>The four girls stood up, and, joining hands, +looked in each other's faces. "We Four +against the World!" they repeated. "The +Snowy, the Fluffy, the Horny, and the Innocent; +Hurrah for us!" and the shout they +raised brought the whole corridor running to +see what was going on.</p> + + +<h2>THE END.</h2> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> +<p>Page 5, caption was missing from original. Added from the List of +Illustrations.</p> +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Peggy, by Laura E. 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