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diff --git a/36015.txt b/36015.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..49da835 --- /dev/null +++ b/36015.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5343 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Miss Peggy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +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: Little Miss Peggy + Only a Nursery Story + +Author: Mrs. Molesworth + +Illustrator: Walter Crane + +Release Date: May 2, 2011 [EBook #36015] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE MISS PEGGY *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: Cover] + + + + +LITTLE MISS PEGGY: + +ONLY A NURSERY STORY + + + "Would I could paint the serious brow, + The eyes that look the world in face, + Half-questioning, doubting, wondering how + This happens thus, or that finds place." + _My Opposite Neighbour._ + +[Illustration: "'What is the matter, little girls?' said the lady." P. +181] + + + + + +LITTLE MISS PEGGY: + +ONLY A NURSERY SToRY + +BY + +MRS. MoLESWoRTH + +WITH PICTURES + +BY + +WALTER CRANE + + + LoNDoN: + MACMILLAN & Co. + AND NEW YORK + 1887 + + + To the Memory of + + E. L. + + THE DEAR YOUNG FRIEND + + WHO SUGGESTED ITS NAME TO THIS LITTLE STORY, + + AND FROM WHOSE LATE HOME, + + SO INTIMATELY ASSOCIATED WITH HER, + + THIS DEDICATION IS MADE. + + BINDON, _August_ 1887. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER I PAGE + A BREAKFAST PARTY 1 + + CHAPTER II + THE WHITE SPOT ON THE HILL 18 + + CHAPTER III + "THE CHILDREN AT THE BACK" 33 + + CHAPTER IV + "REAL" FANCIES 48 + + CHAPTER V + THE LITTLE RED SHOES 65 + + CHAPTER VI + FELLOW-FEELINGS AND SLIPPERS 81 + + CHAPTER VII + A BUN TO THE GOOD 98 + + CHAPTER VIII + UNDER THE BIG UMBRELLA 114 + + CHAPTER IX + THE OPPOSITE HOUSE 131 + + CHAPTER X + "SOAP-BUBBLING" 145 + + CHAPTER XI + UP FERNLEY ROAD 162 + + CHAPTER XII + THE SHOES-LADY AGAIN 178 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + "WHAT IS THE MATTER, LITTLE GIRLS?" SAID THE LADY. _Frontispiece_ + + + PAGE + + HE HAD TO DRUM WITH A SPOON, FIRST IN ONE FAT HAND AND + THEN IN THE OTHER 2 + + THEY WERE SETTLED ON THE HEARTH-RUG--BABY ON PEGGY'S LAP 17 + + "SEE HAL," SHE SAID, "OVER THERE, FAR, FAR AWAY, NEELY IN + THE SKY, DOES YOU SEE THAT BLUEY HILL?" 27 + + SHE WAS RATHER A TERRIBLE-LOOKING OLD WOMAN; SHE ALWAYS + WORE A SHORT BED-GOWN ... AND SHE WAS GENERALLY TO + BE SEEN WITH A PIPE IN HER MOUTH 35 + + "TELL ME WHAT THE LITTLE WHITE HOUSE IS REELY LIKE" 52 + + PEGGY STOOD STILL, HER EYES FIXED ON THE BABY SHOES 68 + + "HERE'S THE OTHER SHOE, I'VE JUST FOUNDED IT" 92 + + SUDDENLY A WINDOW ABOVE OPENED, AND MOTHER WHELAN'S + BEFRILLED FACE WAS THRUST OUT 109 + + AN UMBRELLA ROLLING ITSELF ABOUT ON THE PAVEMENT 127 + + "TO BE SURE," SHE SAID, IN HER MOST GRACIOUS TONE. + "'TIS THE BEAUTIFUL PIPES I HAVE" 138 + + THE BOYS, BOY-LIKE, THOUGHT LITTLE BUT OF WHO COULD + BLOW THE BIGGEST BUBBLES 149 + + HUSHED LIGHT SMILEY TO SLEEP, HER ARM CLASPED ROUND + PEGGY 177 + + + + +CHAPTER I + +A BREAKFAST PARTY + + "Henry was every morning fed + With a full mess of milk and bread." + MARY LAMB. + + +"NO," said Peggy to herself, with a little sigh, "the naughty clouds has +covered it up to-day. I can't see it." + +"Miss Peggy," came nurse's voice from the other side of the room, "your +breakfast's waiting. Come to the table, my dear, and stand quiet while +Master Thor says the grace." + +[Illustration: "--Baby, who required a great deal of room to himself at +table, baby though he was. He had so many things to do during a meal, +you see, which grown-up children think quite unnecessary. He had to drum +with a spoon, first in one fat hand and then in the other; he had to dip +his crust first in nurse's cup of tea and next in Hal's jug of milk to +see which tasted best, and there would have been no fun in doing either +if he hadn't had to stretch a long way across; and besides all this he +felt really obliged now and then to put his feet upon the table for a +change, one at a time, of course."] + +Nurse spoke kindly, but she meant what she said. Peggy turned slowly +from the window and took her place among her brothers. She, and Thorold +and Terence, the two oldest boys, sat opposite nurse, and beside nurse +was Baby, who required a great deal of room to himself at table, baby +though he was. He had so many things to do during a meal, you see, +which grown-up children think quite unnecessary. He had to drum with a +spoon, first in one fat hand and then in the other; he had to dip his +crust first in nurse's cup of tea and next in Hal's jug of milk to see +which tasted best, and there would have been no fun in doing either if +he hadn't had to stretch a long way across; and besides all this he felt +really obliged now and then to put his feet upon the table for a change, +one at a time, of course. For even he, clever as he was, could not have +got both together out of the bars of his chair without toppling over. +Nurse had for some time past been speaking about beginning "to break +Master Baby in," but so far it had not got beyond speaking, and she +contented herself with seating him beside her and giving him a good +quarter of the table to himself, the only objection to which was that it +gave things in general a rather lopsided appearance. + +At the two ends sat Baldwin and Hal. Hal's real name, of course, was +Henry, though he was never called by it. Baldwin, on the contrary, had +no short name, partly perhaps because mamma thought "Baldie" sounded so +ugly, and partly because there was something about Baldwin himself +which made one not inclined to shorten his name. It suited him so well, +for he was broad and comfortable and slow. He was never in a hurry, and +he gave you the feeling that you needn't be in a hurry either. There was +plenty of time for everything, for saying the whole of his name as well +as for everything else. + +That made a lot of brothers, didn't it? Five, counting baby, and to +match them, or rather not to match them--for five and one are not a +match at all--only one little girl! She wondered about it a good deal, +when she had nothing else more interesting to wonder about. It seemed so +very badly managed that she should have five brothers, and that the five +brothers should only have one sister each. It wasn't always so, she +knew. The children at the back had plenty of both brothers and sisters; +she had found that out already. But I must not begin just yet about the +children at the back; you will hear about them in good time. + +There was a nice bowl of bread-and-milk at each child's place, and as +bread-and-milk is much better hot than cold, it was generally eaten up +quickly. But this morning, even after the grace was said, and the four +brothers who weren't baby had got on very well with theirs, Peggy sat, +spoon in hand, gazing before her and not eating at all. + +"What's the matter, Miss Peggy?" said nurse, when she had at last made +Baby understand that he really _wasn't_ to try to put his toes into her +tea-cup, which had struck him suddenly as a very beautiful thing to do; +"you've not begun to eat. Are you waiting for the sugar or the salt, or +can't you fix which you want this morning?" + +For there was a very nice and interesting rule in that nursery that +every morning each child might choose whether he or she would have salt +or sugar in the bread and milk. The only thing was that they had to be +quick about choosing, and that was not always very easy. + +Peggy looked up when nurse spoke to her. + +"Peggy wasn't 'toosing," she said. Then she grew a little red. "_I_ +wasn't 'toosing," she went on. For Peggy was five--five a good while +ago--and she wanted to leave off baby ways of talking. "I was +wondering." + +"Well, eat your breakfast, and when you've got half-way down the bowl +you can tell us what you were wondering about," said nurse. + +Peggy's spoon, already laden, continued its journey to her mouth. But +when it got there, and its contents were safely deposited between her +two red lips, she gave a little cry. + +"Oh!" she said, "it doesn't taste good. There's no salt or sugar." + +"'Cos you didn't put any in, you silly girl," said Thor. "I saw, but I +thought it'd be a good lesson. People shouldn't wonder when they're +eating." + +"Peggy wasn't eating; she was only going to eat," said Terry. "Never +mind, Peg-top. Thor shan't tease you. Which'll you have? Say quick," and +he pulled forward the sugar-basin and the salt-cellar in front of his +sister. + +"Sugar, pelease," said Peggy. "It's so 'told this morning." + +At this Thor burst out laughing. + +"What a Peggy-speech," he said. "Sugar's no warmer than salt." + +"Yes," said Baldwin, solemnly, from the other end of the table. "'Tis. +There's sugar in toffee and in jam, and they're hot, leastways they're +hot to be made. And there's salt in ices, for mamma said they're made +with salt." + +"What rubbish!" said Thor. "Nurse, isn't it rubbish? And when did you +ever see ices, I'd like to know, Baldwin?" + +"I did," Baldwin maintained. "Onst. But I'll not tell you when, if you +say rubbish." + +"It is rubbish all the same, and I'll prove it," said Thor. "You know +that nice smooth white sugar on the top of bridescake?--well, they ice +that to put it on--I know they do. Don't they, nurse?" + +"They call it icing, to be sure," nurse replied. "But that's no proof +that ices themselves mayn't be made with salt, Master Thor, for when you +come to think of it ices have sugar in them." + +"To be sure they have," Thor cried, triumphantly. "Nurse has proved +it--that sugar's no warmer than salt," which was not what nurse had +intended to say at all. + +But now Peggy, who all this time had been steadily eating, looked up +again. + +"Peggy was wondering," she said, "what's clouds. Is clouds alive?" + +Thor was all ready with his "you silly girl" again, but this time Terry +was before him. + +"They can't be alive," he said. "They've got no hands, or feet, or +mouths, and noses, and eyes, and----" + +"They _has_ noses," said Peggy, eagerly. "Peggy's seen them, and they +has wings--the little ones has wings, they fly so fast. And p'raps they +has got proper faces on their other sides, to look at the sun with. I've +seen shiny bits of the other sides turned over." + +"Yes," said Baldwin, solemnly again, as if that settled it, "so has I." + +"But they're not alive, Peggy, they're really not. They fly because the +wind blows them," said Terence. + +"Oh!" said Peggy, with a deep-drawn breath, "I see. Then if we all +blowed very hard at the window, if we all blowed together, couldn't we +blow them away? I do so want to blow them away when they come over my +hills." + +But when she had said this she grew very red, just as if she had told +something she had not meant to tell, and if any one had looked at her +quite close they would have seen that there were tears in her eyes. +Fortunately, however, no one had noticed her last words, for Thorold and +Terence too had burst out laughing at the beginning of her speech. + +"Fancy us all blowing out of the window together," they said. And they +began puffing out their cheeks and pretending to blow very hard, which +made them look so funny that Peggy herself burst out laughing too. + +"I'll tell you what," said Thor, when they were tired of laughing, "that +reminds me of soap-bubbles, we haven't had any for such a time. Nurse, +will you remember to let us have them the first wet half-holiday? +Mamma'll let us if you will." + +"And the pipes?" said nurse. "There was six new got the last time, and +they were to last, certain sure till the next time, and then----" + +"Oh I know," said Thor, "we took them to school and never brought them +back. Never mind--we'll get some more from old Mother Whelan. She always +keeps lots. We'll keep our halfpennies for two Saturdays--that'll do. +But we must be going, Terry and Baldwin. _I'm_ all ready." + +And he jumped up as he spoke, and pulled his satchel of books from under +his chair, where he had put them to be all ready. Baldwin slowly got +down from his place, for he was not only broad, but his legs were very +short, and came up to nurse to be helped on with his little overcoat, +while Terence began rushing about the room in a fuss, looking for one of +his books, which as usual couldn't be found at the last minute. + +"I had it just before breakfast, I'm _sure_ I had," he went on +repeating. "I haven't finished learning it, and I meant to look it over. +Oh dear, what shall I do?" + +The nursery party was too accustomed to Terry's misfortunes to be much +upset by them. Peggy sat still for a moment or two considering. Then she +spoke. + +"Terry," she said, "look in Baby's cot." + +Off flew Terence, returning in triumph, grammar in hand. + +"I'll learn it on the way to school. How did you know it was there, +Peggy?" + +"I sawed you reaching over to kiss Baby when you comed in to ask nurse +for a new shoe-lace this morning," said Peggy, with great pride. + +"Good girl," said Terence, as he slammed the door and rushed downstairs +to overtake his two brothers. + +The nursery seemed very quiet when the three big boys had gone. Quiet +but not idle; there was always a great deal to do first thing of a +morning, and Peggy had her own share of the doing to see to. She took +off her own breakfast pinafore and put on a quite clean one--one that +looked quite clean anyway, just as if it had never been on, even though +it had really been used two or three times. Peggy called it her "prayers +pinafore," and it always lasted a whole week, as it was only worn to go +down to the dining-room for five or ten minutes. Then she washed her +hands and stood still for nurse to give a tidying touch to her soft fair +hair, though it really didn't need it,--Peggy's hair never looked +messy,--and then she took off Hal's over pinafore which he wore on the +top of his blouse at meal-times, and helped him to wash his hands, by +which time nurse and baby were also ready, and the little procession set +off on their journey. If the prayers bell had not sounded yet, or did +not sound as they made their way down, nurse would stop at mamma's door +and tap, and the answer was sure to be "Come in." Then nurse would go on +downstairs with Baby, and Peggy and Hal would trot in to see mamma, and +wait a moment or two till she was ready. She was almost always nearly +ready, unless she was very, very tired; and in that case she would tell +them to go downstairs and come up and see her again after prayers, as +she was going to have breakfast in bed. They rather liked these days, +though of course they were sorry for mamma to be so tired, but it was +very interesting to watch her having her breakfast, and generally one +or two dainty bits of toast and marmalade would find their way to the +two little mouths. + +It was only since last winter that mamma had been so often tired and not +able to get up early. Before then she used always to come up to the +nursery to see her six children at breakfast, and prayers were early +enough for the three boys to stay for them, instead of having them at +school. For mamma was not at all a "lazy" mother, as you might think if +I did not explain. But last winter she had been very ill indeed, so ill +that papa looked dreadfully unhappy, and the boys had to take off their +boots downstairs so as not to make any noise when they passed her door, +and the days seemed very long to Peggy and Hal, worst to Peggy of +course, for Hal was still so little that almost all his life belonged to +the nursery. It was during that time that Peggy first found out the +white spot on the hill, which I am going to tell you about, for she used +to climb up on the window-sill and sit there looking out at whatever +there was to see for hours at a time. + +This morning mamma was evidently not tired, for just as the children +got to the landing on to which her door opened, out she came. + +"Well, darlings," she said, "there you are! Have the boys got off to +school all rightly, nurse?" + +"Oh yes, ma'am," nurse was beginning, but Peggy interrupted her. + +"Terry loosed his book, mamma dear, and Peg--_I_ founded it; I knewed +where it was 'cos I used my eyes like you said." + +"That was a very good thing," said mamma. She had talked to Peggy about +using her eyes a good deal, for Peggy had rather a trick of going to +sleep with her eyes open, like many children, and it becomes a very +tiresome trick if it isn't cured, and makes one miss a great many +chances of being useful to others, and of enjoying pleasant things one's +self. "Poor Terry--I wish he wasn't so careless. Where was his book this +time?" + +"In such a funny place, mamma dear," said Peggy. "In Baby's cot," and at +the sound of his name Baby crowed, which made both Peggy and Hal burst +out laughing, so that mamma had to hold their hands firmly to prevent +their tumbling down stairs. + +After prayers were over nurse took Baby and Hal away, but papa said +Peggy might stay for a few minutes. + +"I've scarcely seen you the last day or two, old woman," he said; "you +were fast asleep when I came home. What have you been about?" + +"About," Peggy repeated, looking puzzled. + +"Well--what have you been doing with yourself?" he said again. + +"I've been doing nothing with _myself_," Peggy replied, gravely. "I've +done my lessons and my sewing, and I've used my eyes." + +"Well, and isn't all that yourself?" asked papa, who was rather a tease. +"You've done your sewing with your fingers and your lessons with your +mind, and you've used your eyes for both--mind, fingers, eyes--those are +all parts of yourself." + +Peggy spread out her two hands on the table and looked at the ten pink +fingers. + +"Them's my fingers," she said, "but I don't know where that other thing +is--that what thinks. I'd like to know where it is. Papa, can't you tell +me?" + +There came a puzzled look into her soft gray eyes--mamma knew that look; +when it stayed long it was rather apt to turn into tears. + +"Arthur," she said to Peggy's papa, "you're too fond of teasing. Peggy +dear, nobody can see that part of you; there are many things we can't +ever see, or hear, or touch, which are real things all the same." + +Peggy's face lightened up again. She nodded her head softly, as if to +say that she understood. Then she got down from her chair and went up to +her father to kiss him and say good-bye. + +"Going already, Peg!" he said. "Don't you like papa teasing you?" + +"I don't mind," said Peggy, graciously; "you're only a big boy, papa. +I'm going 'cos nurse wants me to keep Baby quiet while she makes the +beds." + +But when she got round to the other side of the table to her mother, she +lingered a moment. + +"Mamma," she whispered, "_it's_ not there this morning--Peggy's fairy +house. It's all hided up. Mamma----" + +"Well, darling?" + +"Are you _sure_ it'll come back again?" + +"Quite sure, dear. It's only hidden by the clouds, as I've told you +before. You know you've often been afraid it was gone, and it's always +come again." + +"Yes, to be sure," said Peggy. "What a silly little girl I am, mamma +dear." + +And she laughed her own little gentle laugh. I can't tell how it was +that Peggy's little laugh used sometimes to bring tears to her mother's +eyes. + +When she got up to the nursery again she found she was very much wanted. +Nurse was in the night nursery which opened into the day one, and looked +out to the back of the house just as the other looked to the front. And +Baby was sitting on the hearth-rug, with Hal beside him, both seeming +far from happy. + +"Baby's defful c'oss, Peggy," said poor Hal. + +And Baby, though he couldn't speak, pouted out his lips and looked very +savage at Hal, which of course was very unreasonable and ungrateful of +him, as Hal had been doing everything he could to amuse him, and had +only objected to Baby pulling him across the floor by his curls. + +"Oh Baby," said Peggy, "that isn't good. Poor Hal's hair--see how you've +tugged it." + +For Baby was still grasping some golden threads in his plump fists. + +"Him sinks zem's feaders," said Hal, apologetically. He was so fond of +Baby that he couldn't bear any one to say anything against him except +himself. + +"But Baby must learn hairs isn't feathers," said Peggy, solemnly. "And +it isn't good to let him pull the feathers out of his parrot either, +Hal," she continued, "for some day he might have a _live_ parrot, and +then it would be cooel, and the parrot would _bite_ him--yes it would, +Baby." + +This was too much for Baby. He drew the corner of his mouth down, then +he opened it wide, very wide, and was just going to roar when Peggy +threw her arms round him and kissed him vigorously. + +"He's sorry, Hal--dear Baby--he's so very sorry. Kiss him, Hal. Let's +all kiss together," and the three soft faces all met in a bunch, which +Baby found so amusing that instead of continuing his preparations for a +good cry, he thought better of it, and went off into a laugh. + +"That's right," said Peggy. "Now if you'll both be very good boys I'll +tell you a story. Just wait a minute till I've tooked off my prayers +pinafore." + +She jumped up to do so. While she was unfastening it her eyes moved to +the window; she gave a little cry and ran forward. The day was clearing +up, the sun was beginning faintly to shine, and the clouds were +breaking. + +[Illustration: "And in another moment they were settled on the +hearth-rug--Baby on Peggy's lap--on, and off it too, for it was much too +small to accommodate the whole of him; Hal on the floor beside her, his +curly head leaning on his sister's shoulder in blissful and trustful +content." + +P. 17] + +"Mamma was right," exclaimed Peggy, joyfully; "I can see it--I can +see it! I can see my white house again, my dear little fairy house." + +She would have stayed there gazing out contentedly half the morning if +her little brothers had not called her back. + +"Peggy," said Hal, plaintively, "do tum. Baby's pulling Hal's 'air +adain." + +"Peggy's coming, dear," said the motherly little voice. + +And in another moment they were settled on the hearth-rug--Baby on +Peggy's lap--on, and off it too, for it was much too small to +accommodate the whole of him; Hal on the floor beside her, his curly +head leaning on his sister's shoulder in blissful and trustful content. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE WHITE SPOT ON THE HILL + + "O reader! had you in your mind + Such stores as silent thought can bring, + O gentle reader! you would find + A tale in everything. + What more I have to say is short, + And you must kindly take it: + It is no tale; but, should you think, + Perhaps a tale you'll make it." + W. WORDSWORTH. + + +"TELLING stories," when the teller is only five and some months old, and +the hearers one and a quarter and three, is rather a curious +performance. But Peggy was well used to it, and when in good spirits +quite able to battle with the difficulties of amusing Hal and Baby at +the same time. And these difficulties were not small, for, compared with +Baby, Hal was really "grown-up." + +It is all very well for people who don't know much about tiny children +to speak of them all together, up to--six or seven, let us say--as +"babies," but we who think we _do_ know something about them, can assure +the rest of the world that this is an immense mistake. One year in +nursery arithmetic counts for ten or even more in _real_ "grown-up" +life. There was a great difference between Peggy and Hal for instance, +but a still greater between Hal and Baby, and had there been a new baby +below him again, of course it would have been the greatest of all. Peggy +could not have explained this in words, but she knew it thoroughly all +the same, and she had learnt to take it into account in her treatment of +the two, especially in her stories telling. In reality the story itself +was all for Hal, but there was a sort of running accompaniment for Baby +which he enjoyed very much, and which, to tell the truth, I rather think +Hal found amusing too, though he pretended it was for Baby's sake. + +This morning her glance out of the window had made Peggy feel so happy +that the story promised to be a great success. She sat still for a +minute or two, her arms clasped round Baby's waist, gently rocking +herself and him to and fro, while her gray eyes stared before her, as if +reading stories in the carpet or on the wall. + +"Peggy," said Hal at last, giving her a hug--he had been waiting what he +thought a very long time--"Peggy, 'do on--no, I mean begin, p'ease." + +"Yes, Hal, d'reckly," said Peggy. "It's coming, Hal, yes, now I think +it's comed. Should we do piggies first, to please Baby before we begin?" + +"Piggies is _so_ silly," said Hal, disdainfully. + +"Well, we'll kiss him instead--another kiss all together, he does so +like that;" and when the kissing was over--"now, Baby dear, listen, and +p'raps you'll understand _some_, and if you're good we'll have piggies +soon." + +Baby gave a kind of grunt; perhaps he was thinking of the pigs, but most +likely it was just his way of saying he would be very good. + +"There was onst," Peggy began, "a little girl who lived in a big house +all by herself." + +"Hadn't she no mamma, or nurse, or--or--brudders?" Hal interrupted. + +"No, not none," Peggy went on. "She lived quite alone, and she didn't +like it. The house was as big as a--as a church, and she hadn't no bed, +and no chairs or tables, and there was very, _very_ high stairs." + +"Is there stairs in churches?" asked Hal. + +Peggy looked rather puzzled. + +"Yes, I think there is," she said. "There's people high up in churches, +so there must be stairs. But I didn't say it _were_ a church, Hal; I +only said as big as a church. And the stairs was for Baby--you'll +hear--p'raps there wasn't _reelly_ stairs. Now, Baby; one day a little +piggy-wiggy came up the stairs--one, two, three," and Peggy's hand came +creeping up Baby's foot and leg and across his pinafore and up his bare +arm again, by way of illustrating piggy's progress, "and when he got to +the top he said 'grumph,' and poked his nose into the little girl's +neck"--here Peggy's own nose made a dive among Baby's double chins, to +his exceeding delight, setting him off chuckling to himself for some +time, which left Peggy free to go on with the serious part of the story +for Hal's benefit--"and there was a window in the big house, and the +little girl used to sit there always looking out." + +"Always?" asked Hal again. "All night too? Didn't her ever go to bed?" + +"She hadn't no bed, I told you. No, she didn't sit there all night, 'cos +she couldn't have see'd in the dark. Never mind about the night. She sat +there all day, always looking out, 'cos there was something she liked +to see. If I tell you you won't tell nobody what it was, will you. Hal?" + +Hal looked very mystified, but replied obediently, + +"No, won't tell nobody," he said. + +"Well, then, I'll tell you what it was. It was a----" But at this moment +Baby, having had enough of his own meditations, began to put in a claim +to some special attention. The piggy had to be summoned and made to run +up and down stairs two or three times before he would be satisfied and +allow Peggy to proceed. + +"Well, Peggy?" said Hal eagerly. + +"It was a----" Oh dear, interrupted again! But this time the +interruption was a blessing in disguise. It was nurse come to fetch Baby +for his morning sleep. + +"And thank you, Miss Peggy, my dear, for keeping him so nice and good. I +heard you come up, and I knew they'd be all right with you," she said, +as she walked away with Baby, who was by no means sure that he wanted to +go. + +"Now," said Hal, edging closer to Peggy, "we'll be comfable. Go on, +Peggy--what she sawed." + +"It was a hill--far, far away, neely as far as the sky," said Peggy in a +mysterious tone. "When the sun comed she could see it plain--the hill +and what was there, but when the sun goed she couldn't. There was a +white spot on the hill, Hal, and that white spot was a lovely white +cottage. She knowed it, though she'd never see'd it." + +"How did she know it?" + +"Her mam--no, that's wrong, she hadn't no mamma--well, never mind, +_somebody_'d told her." + +"Were it _God_?" asked Hal, in an awestruck whisper. + +"I don't know. No, I don't think so. I think it's a little naughty to +say that, Hal. No, dear, don't cry," for signs of disturbance were +visible in Hal's round face. "You didn't mean, and it isn't never +naughty when we don't mean, you know. We'll go on about the little girl. +She knowed it was a lovely cottage, and she wanted _very_ much, as much +as could be, to go there, for the big house wasn't pretty, and it was +dark, nearly black, and the cottage was all white." + +"Her house wasn't as nice as _zit_, were it? Zit house isn't b'ack," +said Hal. + +"No," said Peggy, doubtfully. "_It_ wasn't as nice as this, but the +white house was much prettier than this." + +"How?" asked Hal. + +"Oh!" said Peggy, letting her eyes and her fancy rove about together, "I +think it was beautiful all over. It was all shiny white; the walls was +white, and the carpets was white, and the tables and the chairs was +white--all shiny and soft like--like----" + +"Baby's best sash," suggested Hal. + +"Well, p'raps--that'll do. And there was a cow and chickens and sheep, +and a kitchen where you could make cakes, and a garden with lots of +flowers and strawberries----" + +"All white?" asked Hal. + +"No, of course not. Strawberries couldn't be white, and flowers is all +colours. 'Twas the _droind-room_ that was all white." + +"And the milk and the eggs. Zem _is_ white," said Hal, triumphantly. + +"Very well. I didn't say they wasn't. But the story goes on that the +little girl didn't know how to get there; it was so far and so high up. +So she sat and cried all alone at the window." + +"All alone, _poor_ little girl," said Hal, with deep feeling. "Kick, +Peggy, kick, I'm 'doing to cry; make it come right _kick_. The crying's +just coming." + +"Make it wait a minute. I can't make it come right all so quick," said +Peggy. "It's going to come, so make the crying wait. One day she was +crying d'edful, worst than never, 'cos the sun had goned, and she +couldn't see the white cottage no more, and just then she heard +something saying, 'mew, mew,' and it was a kitten outside the window, +and it was just going to fall down and be killed." + +"That's not coming right. I _must_ cry," said Hal. + +"But she opened the window--there now, you see--and she pulled the +kitten in, so it didn't fall down, and it was so pleased it kissed her, +and when it kissed her it turned into a fairy, and it touched her neck +and made wings come, and then it opened the window again and flewed away +with the little girl till they came to the white cottage, and then the +little girl was quite happy for always." + +"Did the fairy stay with her always?" asked Hal. + +"No; fairies never does like that. They go back to fairyland. But the +little girl had nice milk and eggs and cakes, and she made nosegays with +the flowers, and the sun was _always_ shining, so she was quite, _quite_ +happy." + +"Her couldn't be happy all alone," said Hal. "I don't like zat story, +Peggy. You haven't made it nice at all. It's a nonsense story." + +Hal wriggled about and seemed very cross. Poor Peggy was not so much +indignant as distressed at failing in her efforts to amuse him. What was +the matter? It couldn't be that he was getting sleepy--it was far too +early for his morning sleep. + +"It isn't a nonsense story," she said, and she glanced towards the +window as she spoke. Yes, the sun was shining brightly, the morning +clouds had quite melted away; it was going to be a fine day after all. +And clear and white gleamed out the spot on the distant hill which Peggy +loved to gaze at! "Come here, Hal," she said, getting on to her feet and +helping Hal on to his, "come with me to the window and you'll see if +it's a nonsense story. Only you've never to tell nobody. It's Peggy's +own secret." + +[Illustration: 'And above the top of all the houses, clear though faint, +was now to be seen the outline of a range of hills, so softly gray-blue +in the distance that but for the irregular line never changing in its +form, one could easily have fancied it was only the edge of a quickly +passing ridge of clouds. Peggy, however, knew better. + +"See, Hal," she said, "over there, far, far away, _neely_ in the sky, +does you see that bluey hill?"'] + +Hal forgot his crossness in a minute; he felt so proud and honoured. +Peggy led him to the window. It was not a very pretty prospect; they +looked out on to a commonplace street, houses on both sides, though just +opposite there was a little variety in the shape of an old-fashioned, +smoke-dried garden. Beyond that again, more houses, more streets, +stretching away out into suburbs, and somewhere beyond all that again +the mysterious, beautiful, enchanting region which the children spoke +of and believed in as "the country," not really so far off after all, +though to them it seemed so. + +And above the tops of all the houses, clear though faint, was now to be +seen the outline of a range of hills, so softly gray-blue in the +distance that but for the irregular line never changing in its form, one +could easily have fancied it was only the edge of a quickly passing +ridge of clouds. Peggy, however, knew better. + +"See, Hal," she said, "over there, far, far away, _neely_ in the sky, +does you see that bluey hill?" + +Of course he saw, agreeing so readily that Peggy was sure he did not +distinguish rightly, which was soon proved to be the case by his +announcing that "The 'ill were sailing away." + +"No, no, it isn't," Peggy cried. "You've mustooked a cloud, Hal. See +now," and by bringing her own eyes exactly on a level with a certain +spot on the glass she was able to place his correctly, "just over that +little bubble in the window you can see it. Its top goes up above the +bubble and then down and then up again, and it never moves like the +clouds--does you see now, Hallie dear?" + +"Zes, zes," said Hal, "but it's a _wenny_ little 'ill, Peggy." + +"No, dear," his sister explained. "It only looks little 'cos it's so far +away. _You_ is too little to understand, dear, but it's true that it's a +big hill, neely a mounting, Hal. Mamma told me." + +"Oh," said Hal, profoundly impressed and quite convinced. + +"Mountings is _old_ hills, or big hills," Peggy continued, herself +slightly confused. "I don't know if they is the papas and mammas of the +little ones, but I think it's something like that, for onst in church I +heard the clergymunt read that the little hills jumped for joy, so they +must be the children. I'll ask mamma, and then I'll tell you. I'm not +quite sure if he meaned the same kind, for these hills never +jumps--that's how mamma told me to know they wasn't clouds." + +"Zes," said Hal, "but go on about the secret, Peggy. Hal doesn't care +about the 'ills." + +"But the secret's _on_ the hills," replied Peggy. "Look more, Hal--does +you see a teeny, _teeny_ white spot on the bluey hill? Higher up than +the bubble, but not at the top quite?" + +Hal's eyes were good and his faith was great. + +"Zes, zes," he cried. "I does see it--kite plain, Peggy." + +"Well, Hallie," Peggy continued, "_that's_ my secret." + +"Is it the fairy cottage, and is the little girl zere now?" Hal asked, +breathlessly. + +Peggy hesitated. + +"It is a white cottage," she said. "Mamma told me. She looked at it +through a seeing pipe." + +"What's a seeing pipe?" Hal interrupted. + +"I can't tell you just now. Ask mamma to show you hers some day. It's +too difficult to understand, but it makes you see things plain. And +mamma found out it was reelly a cottage, a white cottage, all alone up +on the hill--isn't it sweet of it to be there all alone, Hallie? And she +said I might think it was a fairy cottage and keep it for my own secret, +only I've telled you, Hal, and you mustn't tell nobody." + +"And is it all like Baby's best sash, and are there cakes and f'owers +and cows?" asked Hal. + +"I don't know. I made up the story, you know, Hal, to please you. I've +made lots--mamma said I might. But I've never see'd the cottage, you +know. I _daresay_ it's beautiful, white and gold like the story, that's +why I said it. It does so shine when the sun's on it--look, look, Hal!" + +For as she spoke the sunshine had broken out again more brilliantly; and +the bright, thin sparkle which often dazzles one between the showers in +unsettled weather, lighted up that quarter of the sky where the children +were gazing, and, to their fancy at least, the white spot caught and +reflected the rays. + +"Oh zes, I see," Hal repeated. "But, Peggy, I'd like to _go_ zere and to +see it. Can't we go, Peggy? It would be so nice, nicer than making up +stories. And do you think--oh do you think, Peggy, that p'raps there's +_pigs_ zere, real pigs?" + +He clasped his hands entreatingly as he spoke. Peggy must say there were +pigs. Poor Peggy--it was rather a comedown after her fairy visions. But +she was too kind to say anything to vex Hal. + +"I thought you said pigs was silly," she objected, gently. + +"Playing pigs to make Baby laugh is silly," said Hal, "and pigs going to +market and stayin' at 'ome and roast beefin', is _d'edful_ silly. But +not real pigs." + +"Oh well, then, _you_ may think pigs if you like," said Peggy. "I don't +think I will, but that doesn't matter. You may have them in the cottage +if you like, only you mustn't tell Thor and Terry and Baldwin about it." + +"I won't tell, on'y you _might_ have them too," said Hal discontentedly. +"You're not kind, Peggy." + +"Don't let's talk about the cottage any more, then," said Peggy, though +her own eyes were fixed on the far-off white spot as she spoke. "I think +p'raps, Hallie, you're _rather_ too little to care about it." + +"I'm not," said Hal, "and I do care. But I do like pigs, real pigs. I +sawed zem in the country." + +"You can't remember," said Peggy. "It's two whole years since we was in +the real country, Hallie, and you're only three and a half. I know it's +two years. I heard mamma say so to papa, so you wasn't two then." + +"But I did see zem and I do 'amember, 'cos of pictures," said Hal. + +"Oh yes, dear, there is pictures of pigs in your scrap-book, I know," +Peggy agreed. "You get it now and we'll look for them." + +Off trotted Hal, returning in a minute with his book, and for a quarter +of an hour or so his patient little sister managed to keep him happy and +amused. At the end of that time, however, he began to be cross and +discontented again. Peggy did not know what to make of him this morning, +he was not often so difficult to please. She was very glad when nurse +came in to say it was now _his_ time for his morning sleep, and though +Hal grumbled and scolded and said he was not sleepy she carried him off, +and Peggy was left in peace. + +She was not at a loss to employ herself. At half-past eleven she usually +went down to mamma for an hour's lessons, and it must be nearly that +time now. She got her books together and sat looking over the one verse +she had to learn, her thoughts roving nevertheless in the direction they +loved best--away over the chimneys and the smoke; away, away, up, up to +the fairy cottage on the distant hill. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"THE CHILDREN AT THE BACK" + + "It seems to me if I'd money enough, + My heart would be made of different stuff; + I would think about those whose lot is rough." + MRS. HAWTREY. + + +THESE children's home was not in a very pretty place. In front, as I +have told you, it looked out on to a rather ugly street, and there were +streets and streets beyond that again--streets of straight, stiff, +grim-looking houses, some large and some small, but all commonplace and +dull. And in and out between these bigger streets were narrower and +still uglier ones, scarcely indeed to be called streets, so dark and +poky were they, so dark and poky were the poor houses they contained. + +The street immediately behind the children's house, that on to which its +back windows looked out, was one of these poorer ones, though not by any +means one of the most miserable. And ugly though it was, Peggy was very +fond of gazing out of the night nursery window on to this street, +especially on days when it was "no use," as she called it to herself, +looking out at the front; that meant, as I daresay you can guess, days +on which it was too dull and cloudy to see the distant hills, and above +all the white spot, which had taken such hold on her fancy. For she had +found out some very interesting things in that dingy street. Straight +across from the night nursery window was a very queer miserable sort of +a shop, kept by an old Irishwoman whose name was Mrs. Whelan. It is +rather absurd to call it a shop, though it was a place where things were +bought and sold, for the room in which these buyings and sellings went +on was Mrs. Whelan's kitchen, and bedroom, and sitting-room, and +wash-house, as well as her shop! It was on the first floor, and you got +up to it by a rickety staircase--more like a ladder indeed than a +staircase, and underneath it on the ground-floor lived a cobbler, with +whom Mrs. Whelan used to quarrel at least once a day, though as he was a +patient, much enduring man, the quarrels never went farther than the old +Irishwoman's opening her window and shouting down all manner of +scoldings to the poor fellow, of which he took no notice. + +[Illustration: "She was rather a terrible-looking old woman; she always +wore a short bed-gown, that is a loose kind of jacket roughly drawn in +at the waist, of washed out cotton, which never looked clean, and yet +somehow never seemed to get much dirtier, a black stuff petticoat, and a +cap with flapping frills which quite hid her face unless you were very +near her, and she was generally to be seen with a pipe in her mouth. Her +voice was both loud and shrill, and when she was in a temper you could +almost hear what she said, though the nursery window was shut." P. 35] + +On Sundays the cobbler used to tidy himself up and go off to church +"like a gentleman," the boys said. But Mrs. Whelan, alas, never tidied +herself up, and never went to church, and though she made a great show +of putting a shutter across that part of the window which showed "the +shop," nurse had more than once shaken her head when the children were +dressing for church, and told them not to look over the way, she was +sadly afraid the shutting or shuttering up was all a pretence, and that +Mrs. Whelan made a good penny by her Sunday sales of tobacco and pipes +to the men, or maybe of sugar, candles, or matches to careless +housekeepers who had let their stock run out too late on Saturday night. + +She was rather a terrible-looking old woman; she always wore a short +bed-gown, that is, a loose kind of jacket roughly drawn in at the waist, +of washed-out cotton, which never looked clean, and yet somehow never +seemed to get much dirtier, a black stuff petticoat, and a cap with +flapping frills which quite hid her face unless you were very near her, +and she was generally to be seen with a pipe in her mouth. Her voice was +both loud and shrill, and when she was in a temper you could almost hear +what she said, though the nursery window was shut. All the neighbours +were afraid of her, and in consequence treated her with great respect. +But like most people in this world, she had some good about her, as you +will hear. + +Good or bad, the children, Peggy especially, found Mrs. Whelan very +interesting. Peggy had never seen her nearer than from the window, and +though she had a queer sort of wish to visit the shop and make closer +acquaintance with the old crone, she was far too frightened of her to +think of doing so really. The boys, however, had been several times +inside Mrs. Whelan's dwelling, and used to tell wonderful stories of the +muddle of things it contained, and of the old woman herself. They always +bought their soap-bubble pipes there, "three a penny," and would gladly +have bought some of the toffee-balls and barley-sugar which were also to +be had, if this had not been strictly forbidden by mamma, in spite of +their grumbling. + +"It isn't so _very_ dirty, mamma," they said, "and you get a lot more +for a penny than in a proper shop." + +But mamma would not give in. She knew what Mrs. Whelan was like, as she +used sometimes to go over herself to talk to the poor old woman, but +that, of course, was a different matter. + +"I don't much like your going there at all," she would say, "but it +pleases her for us to buy some trifles now and then." + +But in her heart she wished very much that they were not obliged to live +in this dreary and ugly town, where their poor neighbours were rarely +the sort of people she could let her children know anything of. Mamma, +in _her_ childhood, had lived in that fairyland she called "the +country," and so had papa, and they still looked forward to being there +again, though for the present they were obliged to make the best of +their home in a dingy street. + +It seemed much less dull and dingy to the children than to them, +however. Indeed I don't think the children ever thought about it at all. +The boys were busy at school, and found plenty of both work and play to +make the time pass quickly, and Peggy, who might perhaps have been a +little dull and lonely in her rather shut-up life, had her fancies and +her wonders--her interesting things to look at both at the front and the +back of the house, and mamma to tell all about them to! And this reminds +me that I have not yet told you what it was she was _most_ fond of +watching from the night nursery window. It was not Mrs. Whelan or the +cobbler; it was the tenants of the third or top story of the rickety +old house--the family she always spoke of to herself as "the children at +the back." + +Such a lot of them there were. It was long before Peggy was able to +distinguish them "all from each other," as she said, and it took her +longer still to make names by which she could keep a clear list in her +head. The eldest looked to her quite grown-up, though in reality she was +about thirteen; she was a big red-cheeked girl, though she lived in a +town; her arms were red too, poor thing, especially in winter, for they +were seldom or never covered, and she seemed to be always at work, +scrubbing or washing, or running out to fetch two or three of the little +ones in from playing in the gutter. Peggy called her "Reddy," and though +it was the girl's red cheeks and arms which made her first choose the +name, in a while she came to think of it as meaning "ready" also, for +Peggy did not know much about spelling as yet, and the thought in her +mind of the look of the two words was the same. For a good while Peggy +fancied that Reddy was the nurse or servant of the family, but one day +when she said something of the kind to her own nurse she was quickly put +right. + +"Their servant, my dear! Bless you, no. How could they afford to keep a +servant; they've hard enough work to keep themselves, striving folk +though they seem. There's such a many of them, you see, and mostly so +little--save that big girl and the sister three below her, there's none +really to help the mother. And the cripple must be a great charge." + +"What's the cripple, nursey?" Peggy asked. + +"Why, Miss Peggy, haven't you noticed the white-faced girl on crutches? +You must have seen her dragging up and down in front of the house of a +fine day." + +"Oh yes," said Peggy, "but I didn't know that was called cripple. And +she's quite little; she's as little as me, nurse!" + +"She's older than she looks, poor thing," said nurse--"maybe oldest of +them all." + +This, however, Peggy could not believe. She fixed in her own mind that +"Crippley" came after the two boys who were evidently next to Reddy--she +did not give the boys names, for they did not interest her as much as +the girls. Having so many brothers of her own and no sister, it seemed +to her as if a sister must be the very nicest thing in the world, and of +all the children at the back, the two that she liked most to watch were +a pair of little girls about three years older than herself, whom she +named "The Smileys," "Brown Smiley" and "Light Smiley" when she thought +of them separately, for though they were very like each other, the +colour of their hair was different. They were very jolly little girls, +poorly clad and poorly fed though they were, taking life easily, it +seemed--too easily in the opinion of their eldest sister Reddy, and the +sister next above them--between them and Crippley, according to Peggy's +list. This sister was the only one whose real name Peggy knew, by +hearing it so frequently shouted after her by the mother and Reddy. For +this child, "Mary-Hann," was rather deaf, though it was not till long +afterwards that Peggy found this out. + +"Mary-Hann" was a patient stupid sort of girl, a kind of second in +command to Reddy, and she was like Reddy in appearance, except that she +was several sizes smaller and thinner, so that even supposing that her +arms were as red as her sister's they did not strike one in the same +way. + +Below the Smileys came another boy, who was generally to be seen in +their company, and who, according to Peggy, rejoiced in the name of +"Tip." And below Tip were a few babies, in reality I believe never more +than three, during the years through which their little over-the-way +neighbour watched them. But even she was obliged to give up hopes of +classifying the babies, for there always seemed to be _a_ baby about the +same age, and one or two others just struggling into standing or rather +tumbling alone, and for ever being picked up by Reddy or her attendant +sprite Mary-Hann. + +Such were Peggy's "children at the back." And many a dull day when it +was too rainy to go a walk, and too cloudy to be "any use" to gaze out +at the front of the house, did these poor children, little as they +guessed it, help to make pass more quickly and pleasantly for the +sisterless maiden. Many a morning when Hal and Baby were asleep and +nurse was glad to have an hour or so for a bit of ironing, or some work +of the kind down in the kitchen--for my Peggy's papa and mamma were not +rich and could not keep many servants, so that nurse, though she was +plain and homely in her ways, was of far more use than a smarter young +woman to them--many a morning did the little girl, left in the night +nursery in charge of her sleeping brothers, take up her stand at the +window which overlooked Mrs. Whelan's and the cobbler and the Smileys +with all their brothers and sisters. There was always something new to +see or to ask nurse to explain afterwards. For ever so long it took up +Peggy's thoughts, and gave much conversation in the nursery to "plan" +how the ten or eleven children, not to speak of the papa and mamma, +_could_ all find place in two rooms. It kept Peggy awake at night, +especially if the weather happened to be at all hot or close, to think +how _very_ uncomfortable poor Reddy and Crippley and Mary-Hann and the +Smileys must be, all sleeping in one bed as nurse said was too probably +the case. And it was the greatest relief to her mind, and to nurse's +too, I do believe, to discover by means of some cautious inquiries of +the cobbler when nurse took him over some of the boys' boots to mend, +that the family was not so short of space as they had feared. + +"They've two other rooms, Miss Peggy, as doesn't show to the front," +said nurse, "two attics with sloping windows in the roof to their back +again. And they're striving folk, he says, as indeed any one may see for +theirselves." + +"Then how shall we plan it now, I wonder," said Peggy, looking across to +the Smileys' mansion with new respect. But nurse had already left the +room, and perhaps, now she was satisfied their neighbours were not +quite so much to be pitied, would scarcely have had patience to listen +to Peggy's "wonderings" about them. So the little girl went on to +herself-- + +"I should think the downstairs room is the papa's and mamma's and the +teeniest baby's, and perhaps Crippley sleeps there, as she's ill, like +me when I had the hooping-cough and I couldn't sleep and mamma kept +jumping up to me. And then the big boys and Tip has one room--'ticks,' +nurse calls the rooms with windows in the roof. I think I'd like to +sleep in a 'tick' room; you must see the stars so plain without getting +up; and--and--let me see, Reddy and Mary-Hann and the Smileys and the +old babies--no, that's too many--and I don't know how many old babies +there is. We'll say _one_--if there's another it must be a boy and go in +the boys' tick--and that makes Reddy and Mary----" + +"Miss Peggy, your mamma's ready for your lessons," came the housemaid's +voice at the door, and Peggy hurried off. But she was rather in a brown +study at her lessons that morning. Mamma could not make her out at all, +till at last she shut up the books for a minute and made Peggy tell her +where her thoughts were wool-gathering. + +"Not so very far away, mamma dear," said Peggy, laughing. She never +could help laughing when mamma said "funny things like that." "Not so +very far away. I was only wondering about the children at the back." + +She called them always "the children at the back" when she spoke of +them--for even to mamma she would have felt shy of telling her own names +for them. And then she went on to repeat what nurse had heard from the +cobbler. Mamma agreed that it was very interesting, and she too was +pleased to think "the children at the back's house," as Peggy called it, +was more commodious than might have been expected. But still, even such +interesting things as that must not be allowed to interfere with +lessons, Peggy must put it all out of her head till they were done with, +and then mamma would talk about it with her. + +"Only, mamma," said Peggy, "I don't know what com--commo--that long word +you said, means." + +"I should not have used it, perhaps," said mamma. "And yet I don't know. +If we only used the words you understand already, you would never learn +new ones--eh, Peggy! Commodious just means large, and not narrow and +squeezed up." + +Peggy nodded her head, which meant that she quite understood, and then +the lessons went on smoothly again. + +When they were over, mamma talked about poor people, especially about +poor children, to Peggy, and explained to her more than she had ever +done before about what being poor really means. It made Peggy feel and +look rather sad, and once or twice mamma was afraid she was going to +cry, which, of course, she did not wish her to do. But Peggy choked down +the crying feeling, because she knew it would make her mother sorry and +would not do the poor people any good. + +"Mamma," she said, "it _neely_ makes me cry, but I won't. But when I'm +big can't I do something for the children at the back?" + +"They won't be children then, Peggy dear. You may be able to do +something for them without waiting for that. I'll think about it. I +don't fancy they are so _very_ poor. As I have been telling you, there +are many far poorer. But I daresay they have very few pleasures in their +lives. We might try to think of a little sunshine for them now and +then." + +"The Smile----" began Peggy, but she stopped suddenly, growing red--"the +littler ones do play a good deal in the gutter, mamma dear," she said, +anxious to state things quite fairly; "but I don't think that's _very_ +nice play, and the sun very seldom shines there. And Red--the big ones, +mamma dear, and the one that goes on--I can't remember the name of those +sticks." + +"Crutches," said mamma. + +"Yes, crutches--_her_ never has no plays at all, I don't think. She'd +have more sunshine at the 'nother side of our house, mamma dear." + +Mamma smiled. Peggy did not understand that mamma did not mean +"sunshine" exactly as she took it; she forgot, too, that of actual +sunshine more fell on the back street than she thought of. For it was +only on dull or rainy days that she looked out much on the children at +the back. On fine days her eyes were busy in another direction. + +"I'll think about it," said mamma. So Peggy for the present was +satisfied. + +This talk about the Smileys and the rest of them had been a day or two +before the morning on which we first saw Peggy--the morning that Thor +tried so to make fun of her about choosing sugar in her bread and milk, +because it was cold. Mamma had not said any more about the children at +the back, and this particular morning Peggy herself was not thinking +very much about them. Her head was running a good deal on the white +cottage and all her fancies about it, and she was feeling rather +disappointed that she had not succeeded better in amusing Hal by her +stories. + +"It must be, I suppose," she said to herself, "that he's rather too +little for that kind of fancy stories. I wonder if Baldwin would like +them; it would be nice to have somebody to make fancies with me." + +But somehow Baldwin and the fairy cottage did not seem to match. And +Thor and Terry were both much too big--Thor would laugh at her, and +Terry would think it a waste of time; he had so many other things to +amuse himself about. No, Peggy could not think of any one who would +"understand," she decided, with a sigh! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"REAL" FANCIES + + "Mine be a cot beside the hill." + SAMUEL ROGERS. + + +JUST then came the usual summons to her lessons. Mamma was waiting for +her little girl in the corner of the drawing-room, where she always sat +when she was teaching Peggy. It was a very nice corner, near the fire, +for though it was not winter it was rather chilly, and mamma often felt +cold. Thor used to tell her that she should take a good run or have a +game of cricket to warm her; it would be much better than sitting near +the fire. Peggy thought it was rather unkind of Thor to say so, but +mamma only laughed at him, so perhaps it was just his boy way of +speaking. + +Peggy said her lessons quite well, but she looked rather grave; no +smiles lighted up her face, and when lessons were over she sat still +without speaking, and seemed as if she scarcely knew what she wanted to +do with herself. + +"Is there anything the matter, dear?" mamma asked. + +"I'm rather tired, I think, mamma," Peggy replied. + +"Tired!" mamma repeated, in some surprise. It wasn't often that Peggy +talked of being tired. "What is that with? You've not been worrying +yourself about the children who live over Mrs. Whelan's, I hope? You +mustn't do that, you know, dear; it would do you harm and them no good." + +For mamma knew that Peggy sometimes did "worry" about things--"Once she +takes a thing in her head she'll work herself up so, for all she seems +so quiet," nurse would say. + +"No, mamma dear," Peggy replied; "I'm not tired because of that. I like +thinking about the children at the back. I wish----" + +"What?" said mamma. + +"I wish I'd sisters like them. I'm rather lonely, mamma. I do think God +might have gaved _one_ sister to Peggy, and not such a great lot to the +children at the back." + +"But you have your brothers, my dear little girl. You might have been an +only child." + +"The big ones is always neely at school, and Hal's too little to +understand. It's Hal that's tired me, mamma dear. He was so d'edfully +cross afore nurse put him to bed." + +"Cross, was he?" said mamma. "I'm afraid he must be getting those last +teeth. He may be cross for some time; if so, it would not do to leave +him." She seemed to be speaking to herself, but when she caught sight of +Peggy's puzzled face she stopped. "Tell me about Hal, dear," she went +on. "What was it that tired you so?" + +"I was trying to amuse him and tell him stories about my white cottage +up on the hill, and he was so cross. He couldn't understand, and he said +they was 'nonsense' stories." + +"He is too little, perhaps, to care for fancies," said her mother, +consolingly. "You must wait till he is a little older, Peggy dear." + +"But when he's older he'll be a _boy_, mamma," said Peggy; "he'll be +like Thor and Terry, who don't care for things like that, or Baldwin, +who thinks stories stupid. Oh, mamma, I wish I had a sister. _That's_ +what I want," she added, with conviction. + +Mamma smiled. + +"Poor Peggy," she said. "I'm afraid it can't be helped. You can never +have a sister near your own age, and I'm afraid a baby sister, even if +you had one, would be no good." + +"Oh no, we've had enough babies," said Peggy, decidedly. "But, mamma, +mightn't there be some little girl who'd play with me like a sister? If +there _is_ a fairy living in that cottage, mamma, how I do wish she +would find a little girl for me!" + +Mamma looked a very little bit troubled. + +"Peggy dear," she said, "you mustn't let your fancies run away with you +too far. I told you they would do you no harm if you kept plain in your +head that they _were_ fancies, but you mustn't forget that. You know +there couldn't really be a fairy living in that little white cottage." + +"No," Peggy agreed, "I know that, mamma, because fairies _really_ live +in fairyland." + +She looked up gravely into her mother's face as she said so. Mamma could +not help laughing. + +"Fairies _really_," she said, "live in Peggy's funny little head, and in +many other funny little heads, I have no doubt. But nowhere----" + +[Illustration: "Mama dear," she began, "will you tell me what the little +white house is reely like, then? If you will, I'll promise not to think +there's fairies there--only----" + +"Only what, dear?" + +"If you don't mind," said Peggy, very anxious not to hurt her mother's +feelings, "I'd _rather_ not have pigs. I don't think I like pigs very +much." + +P. 52] + +"Mamma, mamma," Peggy interrupted, putting her fingers in her ears as +she spoke, "I _won't_ listen. You mustn't, mustn't say that. I must have +my fairies, mamma. I've no sisters." + +"Well, keep them in fairyland then, or at least only let them out for +visits now and then. But don't mix them up with real things too much, or +you will get quite a confusion, and never be sure if you're awake or +dreaming." + +Peggy seemed to consider this over very seriously. After a minute or too +she lifted her face again, and looked straight into her mother's with +her earnest gray eyes. + +"Mamma dear," she began, "will you tell me what the little white house +is _reely_ like, then? If you will, I'll promise not to think there's +fairies there--only----" + +"Only what, dear?" + +"If you don't mind," said Peggy, very anxious not to hurt her mother's +feelings, "I'd _rather_ not have pigs. I don't think I like pigs very +much." + +"Well, we needn't have pigs then. But remember I can only 'fancy' it. +I've never seen that particular cottage, you see, Peggy. But I have seen +other cottages in Brackenshire, and so I can fancy what it _most likely_ +is. You see there are different kinds of fancying--there's fancying +that is all fancy, like fairy stories, and there's fancying that might +be true and real, and that very likely is true and real. Do you +understand?" + +"Yes," said Peggy, drawing a deep breath. "Well, mamma, go on +real-fancying, please. What's that place you've been at--Brat--what is +it?" + +"Brackenshire," mamma replied. "That's the name of that part of the +country that we see far off, from the windows upstairs." + +"And is all the cottages white there, and is they _very_ pretty?" asked +Peggy, with deep interest. "Oh, mamma, do tell me, quick." + +"I don't know if they're all white, but I think they are mostly. And +there are some pretty and some ugly. Of course it depends a good deal +upon the people that live in them. If they're nice, clean, busy people, +who like their house to be neat and pretty, and work hard to keep it so, +of course it's much more likely to be so than if they were careless and +lazy." + +"Oh," said Peggy, clasping her hands. "I do so hope my cottage has nice +people living in it. I _think_ it has, don't you, mamma? It looks _so_ +white." + +"My dear Peggy," said mamma, smiling, "we can't tell, when it's so far +away. But we may hope so." + +"Yes," said Peggy, "we'll hope so, and we'll think so." But then a +rather puzzled look came over her face again, though she smiled too. +"Mamma," she went on, "there's such a funny thing come into my head, +only I don't know quite how to say it. I think that the far-away helps +to make it pretty--why is far-away so pretty, mamma?" + +Mamma smiled again. + +"I'm afraid I can't tell you why. Wouldn't it spoil some things if we +knew the why of them, little Peggy?" + +Peggy did not answer. This was another new thought for her, and rather a +difficult one. She put it away in her mind, in one of the rather far +back cupboards there, and locked it up, to think about it afterwards. + +"Mamma," she said, coaxingly, "I want you to tell me a real fancy about +the cottage. It will be so nice when I look at it to think it's most +likely _reely_ like that." + +"Well, then, let us see," mamma began. + +"Wait just one minute, mamma dear, till I've shut my eyes. First I must +get the bluey hills and the white spot into them, and then I'll shut +them and see what you tell. Yes--that's all right now." + +So mamma went on. + +"I fancy a cottage on the side of a hill. The cottage is white, of +course, and the hill is green. Not very green--a kind of brown-green, +for the grass is short and close, nibbled by the sheep and cows that +find their living on the hill most of the year. The cottage is very +white, for last summer it had a nice wash all over, and that lasts clean +a good while in the country. There is a little low wall round it +shutting it in from the hillside, and this wall is not very white, +though it once was so, for it is covered with creeping plants, so that +you can scarcely see what its own colour is. At the front of the house +there is a little garden, quite a tiny one--there are potatoes and +gooseberry bushes and cabbages at one side, but in front of them are +some nice old-fashioned flowers, and at the other side there are +strawberry plants, and behind them some rose-bushes. In summer I am sure +there will be some pretty roses." + +"Oh how nice," said Peggy; "go on, go on, please." + +"There is a funny little wooden shed behind the house, leaning against +the wall, which has a door big enough for a child to go in by, or a big +person if they stooped down very much, and besides this it has a _very_ +little door in the wall, leading on to the hillside. Can you guess what +the shed is for, Peggy, and what the tiny door is for?" + +Peggy thought and thought, but her country knowledge was but scanty. + +"I can't think," she said. "It couldn't be for pigs, 'cos there isn't +any in the cottage. Nor it couldn't be for cows, 'cos cows is so big." + +"What should you say to cocks and hens, Peggy? There are to be fresh +eggs there, aren't there? And chickens sometimes. I rather think they +take eggs and chickens to market, don't they?" + +"Oh yes, I'm sure they do. How stupid I am! Of course the little wooden +house is for cocks and hens. You're making it lovelily, mamma. What is +it like inside, and who lives in it? I do so want to know." + +"Inside?" said mamma. "I'm almost afraid you might be disappointed, +Peggy, if you've never been in a real cottage. There are so many that +look very pretty outside and are not at all pretty inside. But at least +we may think it is neat and clean. There are only two rooms, Peggy--a +kitchen which you go straight into, and another room which opens out of +it. The kitchen is very bright and pleasant; there is a table before the +window with some flower-pots on it, in which both winter and summer +there are plants growing. There is a large cupboard of dark old wood +standing against the wall, and a sort of sofa that is called a settle +with cushions covered with red cotton, standing near the fireplace. +There are shelves, too, on which stand some dishes and two or three +shining pots and pans, the ugly black ones are kept in a little back +kitchen where most of the cooking is done, so that the front kitchen +should be kept as nice as possible." + +"That makes another room, mamma dear. You said there was only two." + +"Oh, but it's so very tiny you couldn't call it a room. The second room +is a bedroom, but the best pieces of furniture are kept there. There is +a nice chest of drawers and a rocking-chair, and there is a very funny +wooden cradle, standing right down on the floor, not at all like Baby's +cot. And in this cradle is a nice, fat, bright-eyed little baby." + +"A baby," said Peggy, doubtfully. + +"Yes, to be sure. There's always a baby in a cottage, unless you'd +rather have a very old couple whose babies are grown-up men and women, +out in the world." + +"No," said Peggy, "I don't want that. A very old woman in a cottage +would be _razer_ like a witch, or else it could make me think of Red +Riding-Hood's grandmother, and that is _so_ sad. No, I don't mind the +baby if it has a nice mamma--but only one baby, pelease, mamma dear. I +don't want _lots_, like the children at the back, they're always +tumbling about and sc'eaming so." + +"Oh no, we won't have it like that. We'll only have one baby--a very +contented nice baby, and its mamma is very nice too. She's got quite a +pretty rosy face, and she stands at the door every morning to see her +husband go off to his work, and every evening to watch for him coming +back again, and she holds the baby up in her arms and it laughs and +crows." + +"Yes," said Peggy, "that'll do. And the eggs and the chickens, mamma?" + +"Oh yes, she takes great care of the cocks and hens, and never forgets +to go outside the garden to feed them on the hill, and in the evening +they all come home of themselves through the little door in the wall. +There's a very nice cat in the cottage too; it sits purring on the +front steps on fine days, as if it thought the cottage and garden and +everything else belonged to it. And----" + +But suddenly the clock struck. Up started mamma. + +"Peggy, darling, I had no idea it was so late. And I have to go out the +moment after luncheon, and I have still two letters to write. I am a +greater baby than any of you! Run off, dear, and tell nurse I want to +speak to her before I go out." + +"And to-morrow," said Peggy, "to-morrow, will you tell me some more +about the white cottage, mamma? It _is_ so nice--I don't think you're a +baby at all, mamma. A baby couldn't make it up so lovelily." + +And Peggy set off upstairs in great content. The white spot would give +her more pleasure than ever, now that she knew what sort of _real_ +fancies to have about it. + +"And to-morrow," she said to herself, "to-morrow mamma will tell me +more, lots more. If I say my lessons very goodly, p'raps mamma will tell +me some more every day. And p'raps Hallie would like those kinds better +than about fairies, and wouldn't call _them_ nonsense stories." + +Poor little Peggy--"to-morrow" brought news which put her pretty fancies +about the white cottage out of her head for a while. + +She gave her mother's message to nurse, and after dinner nurse went +downstairs. When she came up again she looked rather grave, and Peggy +thought perhaps she was unhappy about Hal, who was still cross and had +bright red spots on his cheeks. + +"Does you think poor Hallie is ill, nurse?" asked Peggy in a low voice, +for Hal not to hear. + +"No, my dear, it's only his teeth. But they'll make him fractious for a +while, I'm afraid, and he's not a very strong child, not near so strong +as Baby and the big boys." + +"Poor Hallie," said Peggy, with great sympathy. "I'll be very good to +him even if he is very cross, nurse." + +Nurse did not answer for a minute, and she still looked very grave. + +"Why do you look so sad, nurse, if it isn't about Hal?" asked Peggy, +impatiently. + +"Did I look sad, Miss Peggy? I didn't know it. I was thinking about some +things your mamma was speaking of to me." + +"Oh!" said Peggy, "was it about our new frocks? Mamma and you is always +very busy when we need new frocks, I know." + +"Yes, dear," said nurse, but that was all. + +Then Peggy and Hal and nurse and Baby went out for a walk. They did not +go very far, for it was what nurse called a queer-tempered day. Between +the gleams of blue sky and sunshine there came sharp little storms and +showers. It was April weather, though April had not yet begun. + +"Which way are we going?" Peggy asked, as they set off, she and Hal +hand-in-hand, just in front of nurse and the perambulator. She _hoped_ +nurse would say "up Fernley Road," because Fernley Road led straight on +towards the hills--so at least it seemed to Peggy. Their street ran into +Fernley Road at one end, so that Fernley Road was what is called at +right angles with it, and Peggy felt sure that if you walked far enough +along the road you _could_ not but come to "the beginning of the hills." + +But to-day Peggy was to be disappointed. + +"We can't go far, Miss Peggy, and we must go to Field's about Master +Hal's new boots. It looks as if it might rain, so perhaps we'd better go +straight there. You know the way, Miss Peggy?--right on to the end of +this street and then turn to the left." + +Peggy gave a little sigh, but trotted on quietly. Hal began grumbling. + +"What is I to have new boots for?" he said. "I doesn't want new boots." + +"Oh, Hal," said Peggy, "I think it's very nice indeed to have new boots. +They shine so, and sometimes they do make such a lovely squeaking." + +But Hal wasn't in a humour to be pleased with anything, so Peggy tried +to change the subject. + +"Nurse says we are to turn to the left at the end of this street," she +said. "Does you know which is the left, Hal? _I_ do, 'cos of my pocket +in my frock. First I feel for my pocket, and when it's there I say 'all +right,' and then I know that's the right, and when it isn't there I +_can't_ say 'all right,' and so I know the side it isn't at is the +left." + +Hal listened with some interest, but a slight tinge of contempt for +feminine garments. + +"Boys has pockets at each sides, so all boys' sides is right," he said. + +But Peggy was by this time in the midst of her researches for her +pocket, so she did not argue the point. + +"Here it is!" she exclaimed, "all right, so the nother side is left. +_This_ way, Hallie," and very proud to show nurse that she had +understood her directions, she led her little brother down the street +into which they had now turned. + +There were shops in this street, which made it more amusing than the one +in which the children lived, even though they had seen them so often +that they knew pretty well all that was worth looking at in the +windows--that is to say, in the picture-shops and the toy-shops, and +perhaps in the confectioner's. All others were passed by as a matter of +course. Field's, the shoemaker's, was not quite so stupid as some, +because under a glass shade, in the midst of all the real boots and +shoes, were half a dozen pairs of dolls' ones, which Peggy thought quite +lovely, though apparently no one else was of her opinion, as the tiny +things stayed there day after day without a single pair being sold. +Peggy herself could remember them for what seemed to her a very long +time, and Baldwin, who owned to having admired them when he was +"little," assured her they had been there since she was quite a baby; he +could remember having "run on" to look at them in the days when he and +Terry had trotted in front and nurse had perambulated Peggy behind. + +The little boots and shoes came into Peggy's mind just now, partly +perhaps because Hal was hanging back so, and she was afraid he would be +cross if she asked him to walk quicker. + +"Let's run on and look at the tiny shoes in Field's window," she said. +"We can wait there till nurse comes up to us. She'll see us." + +This roused Hal to bestir himself, and they were soon at the +shoemaker's. + +"_Isn't_ they sweet?" said Peggy. "If I had a gold pound of my very own, +Hal, I'd buy some of them." + +"Would you?" said Hal, doubtfully. "No, if _I_ had a gold pound I'd----" + +But just then nurse came up to them and they were all marched into the +shop. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE LITTLE RED SHOES + + "Pif-paf Pottrie, what trade are you? Are you a tailor?" + "Better still!" "A shoemaker?" + BROTHERS GRIMM. + + +THERE was another reason why the children liked Field's shop. At the +back of it was a sort of little room railed off by a low wooden +partition with curtains at the top, into which customers were shown to +try on and be fitted with new boots or shoes. This little room within a +room had always greatly taken Peggy's fancy; she had often talked it +over with her brothers, and wished they could copy it in their nursery. +Inside it had comfortable cushioned seats all round, making it look like +one of the large, square, cushioned pews still to be found in some old +churches, pews which all children who have ever sat in them dearly love. + +There was always some excitement in peeping into this little room to +see if any one was already there; if that were the case the children +knew they should have to be "tried on" in the outer shop. To-day, +however, there was no doubt about the matter--Miss Field, who acted as +her father's shop-woman, marshalled them all straight into the curtained +recess without delay; there was no one there--and when Peggy and Hal had +with some difficulty twisted themselves on to the seats with as much +formality as if they were settling themselves in church, and nurse had +explained what they had come for, the girl began operations by taking +off one of Hal's boots to serve as a pattern for his size. + +"The same make as these, I suppose?" she asked. + +"No, miss, a little thicker, I think. They're to be good strong ones for +country wear," said nurse. + +Peggy looked up with surprise. + +"For the country, nursie," she said. "He'll have weared them out before +it's time for us to go to the country. It won't be summer for a long +while, and last year we didn't go even when summer comed." + +Nurse looked a little vexed. Miss Field, though smiling and +good-natured, was not a special favourite of nurse's; she was too fond +of talking, and she stood there now looking very much amused at Peggy's +remonstrance. + +"If you didn't go to the country last year, Miss Margaret," said nurse, +"more reason that you'll go this. But little girls can't know +everything." + +Peggy opened her eyes and her mouth. She was just going to ask nurse +what was the matter, which would not have made things better, I am +afraid, when Baby changed the subject by bursting out crying. Poor +Baby--he did not like the little curtained-off room at all; it was +rather dark, and he felt frightened, and as was of course the most +sensible thing to do under the circumstances, as he could not speak, he +cried. + +"Dear, dear," said nurse, after vainly trying to soothe him, "he doesn't +like being in here, the poor lamb. He's frightened. I'll never get him +quiet here. Miss Peggy, love," forgetting in her hurry the presence of +Miss Field, for before strangers Peggy was always "Miss Margaret," with +nurse, "I'll have to put him back in his perambulator at the door, and +if you'll stand beside him he'll be quite content." + +[Illustration: "Baby did not interrupt her; he was quite content now he +was out in the light and the open air, and amused himself after his own +fashion by crowing and chuckling to the passers-by. So Peggy stood +still, her eyes fixed on the baby shoes. They were of all colours, black +and red and bronze and blue--it was difficult to say which was the +prettiest." p.p. 68-69] + +And nurse got up as she spoke. Peggy slid herself down slowly and +reluctantly from her seat; she would have liked to stay and watch Hal +being fitted with boots, and she would have liked still more to ask +nurse what she meant by speaking of the country so long before the time, +but it was Peggy's habit to do what she was told without delay, and she +knew she could ask nurse what she wanted afterwards. So with one +regretful look back at the snug corner where Hal was sitting comfortably +staring at his stockinged toes, she trotted across the shop to the door +where Baby, quite restored to good humour, was being settled in his +carriage. + +"There now, he'll be quite happy. Nurse will come soon, dear. Just let +him stay here in the doorway; he can see all the boots and shoes in the +window--that will amuse him." + +"Yes," said Peggy, adding in her own mind that she would have a good +look at the dear, tiny dolls' ones and fix which she would like to buy +if she had the money. + +Baby did not interrupt her; he was quite content now he was out in the +light and the open air, and amused himself after his own fashion by +crowing and chuckling to the passers-by. So Peggy stood still, her eyes +fixed on the baby shoes. They were of all colours, black and red and +bronze and blue--it was difficult to say which were the prettiest. +Peggy had almost decided upon a red pair, and was wondering how much +money it would take to buy them, when some one touched her on the +shoulder. She looked up; a lady was standing behind her, smiling in +amusement. + +"What are you gazing at so, my dear? Is this your baby in the +perambulator? You had better wheel him a little bit farther back, or may +I do so for you?--he has worked himself too far into the doorway." + +Peggy looked up questioningly in the lady's face. Like many children she +did not like being spoken to by strangers in any unceremonious way; she +felt as if it were rather a freedom. + +But the face that met hers was too kind and bright and pleasant to +resist, and though Peggy still looked grave, it was only that she felt +rather shy. + +"Yes," she said, "he's our baby. I was looking at those sweet little +shoes. I didn't see Baby had pushed hisself away. Thank you," as the +lady gently moved the perambulator a little farther to one side. + +"You and Baby are not alone? Are you waiting for some one?" she asked. + +"Nurse is having Hal tried on for new boots," Peggy replied, "and Baby +didn't like the shop 'cos it were rather dark." + +"And so his kind little sister is taking care of him. I see," said the +lady. "And what are the sweet little shoes you like so much to look at? +Are they some that would fit Baby?" + +"Oh no," said Peggy, "they'd be too little for him. Baby _is_ rather +fat. Oh no, it's _those_ under the glass basin turned upside down," and +she pointed to the dolls' shoes. "Aren't they lovely? I've seen them +ever since I was quite little--I suppose they'd cost a great lot," and +Peggy sighed. + +"Which do you think the prettiest?" asked the lady. + +"The red ones," Peggy replied. + +"Well, I almost think I agree with you," said the lady. "Good-bye, my +dear, don't let Baby run himself out into the street." And with a kind +smile she went on into the shop. + +She passed back again in a few minutes. + +"Still there?" she said, nodding to Peggy, and then she made her way +down the street and was soon out of sight. Peggy's attention, since the +lady had warned her, had been entirely given to Baby, otherwise she +might perhaps have noticed a very wonderful thing that had happened in +the shop-window. The pair of red dolls' shoes was no longer there! They +had been quietly withdrawn from the case in which they, with their +companions, had spent a peaceful, but it must be allowed a rather dull +life for some years. + +In another minute nurse and Hal made their appearance, and Hal had a +parcel, which he was clutching tightly in both hands. + +"My new boots is _so_ shiny," he said, "I do so hope they'll squeak. +Does you think they will, nursie? But isn't poor Peggy to have new +boots, too? _Poor_ Peggy!" + +Peggy looked down at her feet. + +"Mine isn't wored out yet," she said; "it would take all poor mamma's +money to buy new boots for us _all_." + +"Never fear," said nurse, who heard rather a martyr tone in Peggy's +voice, "you'll not be forgotten, Miss Peggy. But Master Hal, hadn't you +better put your boots in the perambulator? You'll be tired of carrying +them, for we're not going straight home." + +Hal looked as if he were going to grumble at this, but before he had +time to say anything, Miss Field came hurrying out of the shop. + +"Oh, you're still here," she said; "that's all right. The lady who's +just left told father to give this little parcel to missie here," and +she held out something to Peggy, who was so astonished that for a moment +or two she only stared at the girl without offering to take the tiny +packet. + +"For me," she said at last. + +"Yes, missie, to be sure--for you, as I say." + +Peggy took the parcel, and began slowly to undo it. Something red peeped +out--Peggy's eyes glistened--then her cheeks grew nearly as scarlet as +the contents of the packet, and she seemed to gasp for breath, as she +held out for Hal and nurse to see the little red shoes which five +minutes before she had been admiring under the glass shade. + +"Nursie, Hal," she exclaimed, "see, oh see! The sweet little shoes--for +me--for my very own." + +Nurse was only too ready to be pleased, but with the prudence of a +"grown-up" person she hesitated a moment. + +"Are you sure there's no mistake, miss?" she said, anxiously. "Do you +know the lady's name? Is she a friend of Missis's, I wonder?" + +The girl shook her head. + +"Can't say, I'm sure," she replied. "She's a stranger to us. She only +just bought a pair of cork soles and these here. There's no mistake, +that, I'm sure of. She must have seen the young lady was admiring of +them." + +"Yes," said Peggy, "she asked me which was the prettiest, and I said the +red ones." + +"You see?" said Miss Field to nurse. "Well, missie, I hope as they'll +fit Miss Dolly, and then you'll give us your custom when they're worn +out, won't you?" + +And with a good-natured laugh she turned back into the shop. + +"It's all right, nursie, isn't it? Do say it is. I may keep them; they +_is_ mine, isn't they?" said Peggy, in very unusual excitement. + +Nurse still looked undecided. + +"I don't quite know what to say, my dear," she replied. "We must ask +your mamma. I shouldn't think she'd object, seeing as it was so kindly +meant. And we can't give back the shoes now they're bought and paid for. +It wouldn't be fair to the lady to give them back to Field just to be +sold again. It wasn't _him_ she wanted to give a present to." + +"No," said Peggy, trotting along beside the perambulator and clasping +her little parcel as Hal was clasping his bigger one, "it was _me_ she +wanted to please. She's a _very_ kind lady, isn't she, nursie? I'm sure +they cost a great lot of money--p'raps a pound. Oh! I do so hope mamma +will say I may keep them for my very own. Can't we go home now this +minute to ask her?" + +"We shouldn't find her in if we did," said nurse, "and we've had nothing +of a walk so far. But don't you worry, Miss Peggy. I'm sure your mamma +will not mind." + +Peggy's anxious eager little face calmed down at this; a corner of the +paper in which her treasures were wrapped up was torn. She saw the +scarlet leather peeping out, and a gleam of delight danced out of her +eyes; she bent her head down and kissed the speck of bright colour +ecstatically, murmuring to herself as she did so, "Oh, how happy I am!" + +Nurse overheard the words. + +"Missis will never have the heart to take them from her, poor dear," she +thought. "She'll be only too pleased for Miss Peggy to have something to +cheer her up when she has to be told about our going." + +And Peggy, in blissful ignorance of any threatening cloud to spoil her +pleasure, marched on, scarcely feeling the ground beneath her feet; as +happy as if the tiny red shoes had been a pair of fairy ones to fit her +own little feet. + +Mamma was not at home when they got in, even though they made a pretty +long round, coming back by Fernley Road, which, however, Peggy did not +care about as much as when they set off by it. For coming back, of +course she could not see the hills without turning round, nor could she +have the feeling that every step was taking her nearer to them. The +weather was clearing when they came in; from the nursery window the sky +towards the west had a faint flush upon it, which looked as if the +sunset were going to be a rosy one. + +"Red at night," Peggy said to herself as she glanced out; "nursie, that +means a fine day, doesn't it?" + +"So they say," nurse replied. + +"Then it'll be a fine day to-morrow, and I'll see the cottage, and I'll +put the little shoes on the window-sill, so that they shall see it +too--the _dear_ little sweets," chattered the child to herself. + +Hal meanwhile was seated on the floor, engaged in a more practical way, +namely, _trying_ to try on his new boots. But "new boots," as he said +himself, "is stiff." Hal pulled and tugged till he grew very red in the +face, but all in vain. + +"Oh, Peggy!" he said, "do help me. I does so want to hear them squeak, +and to 'upprise the boys when they come in." + +Down went kind Peggy on the floor, and thanks to her the boots were got +on, though the buttoning of them was beyond her skill. Hal was quite +happy, though. + +"They do squeak, don't they, Peggy?" he said; "and nurse'll let me wear +them a little for them to get used to my feet 'afore we go to the +country." + +"You mean for your feet to get used to them, Hallie," said Peggy. "But +there's lots of time for that. Why, they'll be half wored out before we +go to the country if you begin them now." + +"'Tisn't nonsense," said Hal, sturdily. "Nurse said so to that girl in +the shop." + +Peggy felt very puzzled. + +"But, Hal," she was beginning, when a voice interrupted her. It was +nurse. She had been downstairs, having heard the front door bell ring. + +"Miss Peggy, your mamma wants you. She's come in. You'll find her in her +own room." + +"Nursie," she said, "Hal's been saying----" + +"You mustn't keep your mamma waiting," said nurse. "I've told her about +the little shoes." + +"I'll take them to show her--won't she be pleased?" said Peggy, seizing +the little parcel which she had put down while helping Hal. + +And off she set. + +She stopped at her mother's door; it was only half shut, so she did not +need to knock. + +"Mamma dear, it's me--Peggy," she said. + +"Come in, darling," mamma's voice replied. + +"I've brought you the _sweet_ little red shoes to see," said Peggy, +carefully unfolding the paper which held her treasures, and holding them +out for mamma's admiration. + +"They are very pretty indeed--really lovely little shoes," she said, +handling them with care, but so as to see them thoroughly. "It was +_very_ kind of that lady. I wonder who she was? Of course in a general +way I wouldn't like you to take presents from strangers, but she must +have done it in such a very nice way. Was she an old lady, Peggy?" + +"Oh yes!" said Peggy, "quite old. She was neely as big as you, mamma +dear. I daresay she's _neely_ as old as you are." + +Mamma began to laugh. + +"You little goose," she said. But Peggy didn't see anything to laugh at +in what she had said, and her face remained quite sober. + +"I don't understand you, mamma dear," she said. + +"Well, listen then; didn't Hal buy a pair of new boots for himself +to-day?" mamma began. + +"No, mamma dear. Nurse buyed them _for_ he," Peggy replied. + +"Or rather _I_ bought them, for it was my money nurse paid for them +with, if you are so very precise, Miss Peggy. But never mind about that. +All I want you to understand is the difference between 'big' and 'old.' +Hal's boots are much bigger than these tiny things, but they are not on +that account _older_." + +Peggy began to laugh. + +"No, mamma dear. P'raps Hallie's boots is younger than my sweet little +red shoes, for they has been a great long while in the shop window, and +Baldwin and Terry sawed them when they was little." + +"Not 'younger,' Peggy dear; 'newer,' you mean. Boots aren't alive. You +only speak of live things as 'young.'" + +Peggy sighed. + +"It is rather difficult to understand, mamma dear." + +"It will all come by degrees," said mamma. "When I was a little girl I +know I thought for a long time that the moon was the mamma of the stars, +because she looked so much bigger." + +"I think that's very nice, mamma, though, of course, I understand it's +only a _fancy_ fancy. I haven't seen the moon for a long time, mamma. +May I ask nurse to wake me up the next time the moon comes?" + +"You needn't wait till dark to see the moon," said mamma. "She can often +be seen by daylight, though, of course, she doesn't look so pretty then, +as in the dark sky which shows her off better. But, of course, the sky +here is so often dull with the smoke of the town that we can't see her +as clearly in the daytime as where the air is purer." + +"Like in the country, mamma," said Peggy. "It's _always_ clear in the +country, isn't it?" + +"Not quite always," said mamma, smiling. "But, Peggy dear, speaking of +the country----" + +"Oh yes!" Peggy interrupted, "I want to tell you, mamma, what a silly +thing Hallie _would_ say about going to the country;" and she told her +mother all that Hal had said about his boots, and indeed what nurse had +said too; "and nursie was just a weeay, teeny bit cross to me, mamma +dear," said Peggy, plaintively. "She wouldn't say she'd mistooked about +it." + +Mamma looked rather grave, and instead of saying at once that of course +nurse had only meant that Hal's boots should last till the summer, she +took Peggy on her knee and kissed her--kissed her in rather a "funny" +way, thought Peggy, so that she looked up and said-- + +"Mamma dear, why do you kiss me like that?" + +Instead of answering, mamma kissed her again, which almost made Peggy +laugh. + +But mamma was not laughing. + +"My own little Peggy," she said, "I have something to tell you which I +am afraid will make you unhappy. It is making _me_ very unhappy, I +know." + +"Poor dear little mamma," said Peggy, and as she spoke she put up her +little hand and stroked her mother's face. "Don't be unhappy if it isn't +anything _very_ bad. Tell Peggy about it, mamma dear." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +FELLOW-FEELINGS AND SLIPPERS + + "If I'd as much money as I could tell + I never would cry 'old clothes to sell'!" + _London Cries._ + + +MAMMA hesitated a moment. Then she began. + +"You know, Peggy, my pet," she said, "for a good while now I haven't +been as strong and well as I used to be----" + +"Stop, mamma, stop," said Peggy, with a sort of cry, and as she spoke +she threw up her hands and pressed them hard against her ears; "I know +what you're going to say, but I can't bear it, no, I can't. Oh mamma, +you're not to say you're going to die." + +For all answer mamma caught Peggy into her arms and kissed her again and +again. For a minute or two it seemed as if she could not speak, but at +last she got her voice. And then, rather to Peggy's surprise, she saw +that although there were tears in mamma's eyes, and even one or two +trickling down her face, she was smiling too. + +"My darling Peggy," she said, "did I frighten you? I am so, so sorry. Oh +no, darling, it is nothing like that. Please God I shall live to see my +Peggy as old as I am now, and older, I hope. No, no, dear, it is nothing +so very sad I was going to tell you. It is only that the doctor says the +best way for me to get quite well and strong again is to go away for a +while to have change of air as it is called, in some nice country +place." + +"In the country," said Peggy, her eyes brightening with pleasure. "Oh, +how nice! will it perhaps be that country where my cottage is? Oh, dear +mamma, how lovely! And when are we to go? May we begin packing to-day? +And how could you think it would make me unhappy----" she went on, +suddenly remembering what her mother had said at first. + +Mamma's face did not brighten up at all. + +"Peggy dear, it is very hard for me to tell you," she said. "Of course, +if we had all been going together it would have been only happy. But +that's just the thing. I can't take you with me, my sweet. Baby must go, +because nurse must, and Hallie too. But the friend I am going to stay +with can't have more of us than the two little ones, and nurse, and +me--it is very, very good of her to take so many." + +"Couldn't I sleep with you, mamma dear?" said Peggy in a queer little +voice, the tone of which went to mamma's heart. + +"My pet, Hallie must sleep with me, as it is. My friend's house isn't +very big. And there's another reason why I can't take you--I'm not sure +if you could understand----" + +"Tell it me, please, mamma." + +"The lady I am going to had a little girl just like you--I mean just the +same age, and rather like you altogether, I think. And the poor little +girl died two years ago, Peggy. Since then it is a pain to her mother to +see other little girls. When you are bigger and not so like what her +little girl was, I daresay she won't mind." + +Peggy had been listening, her whole soul in her eyes. + +"I understand," she said. "I wouldn't like to go if it would make that +lady cry--if it hadn't been for that--oh mamma, I could have squeezed +myself up so very tight in the bed! You and Hallie wouldn't have knowed +I were there. But I wouldn't like to make her cry. I am so sorry about +that little girl. Mamma, how is it that dying is so nice, about going to +heaven, you know, and _still_ it is so sorry?" + +"There is the parting," said mamma. + +"Yes--that must be it. And, mamma, I hope it isn't naughty, but if you +were to die I'd be _very_ sorry not to see you again just the same--even +if you were to be a very pretty angel, with shiny clothes and all that, +I'd want you to be my own old mamma." + +"I would be your own old mamma, dear. I am sure you would feel I was the +same." + +"I'm so glad," said Peggy. "Still it is sad to die," and she sighed. +"Mamma dear, you won't be very long away, will you? It'll only be a +little short parting, won't it?" + +"Only a few weeks, dear. And I hope you won't be unhappy even though you +must be a little lonely." + +"If only I had a sister," said Peggy. + +But mamma went on to tell her all she had planned. Miss Earnshaw, a +dressmaker who used sometimes to come and sew, was to be with Peggy as +much as she could. She was a gentle nice girl, and Peggy liked her. + +"She has several things to make for me just now," said mamma, "and as +she lives near, she will try to come every day, so that she will be with +you at dinner and tea. And Fanny will help you to dress and undress, and +either she or Miss Earnshaw will take you a walk every day that it is +fine enough. And then in the evenings, of course, the boys will be at +home, and papa will see you every morning before he goes." + +"And I daresay he'll come up to see me in bed at night too," said Peggy. +Then she was silent for a minute or two; the truth was, I think, that +she was trying hard to swallow down a lump in her throat that _would_ +come, and to blink away two or three tiresome tears that kept creeping +up to her eyes. + +Two days later and they were gone. Mamma, nurse, Hal, and Baby, with +papa to see them off, and two boxes outside the cab, and of course a +whole lot of smaller packages inside. + +Peggy stood at the front-door, nodding and kissing her hand and making a +smile, as broad a one as she possibly could, to show that she was not +crying. + +When they were gone, really gone, and Fanny had shut the door, she +turned kindly to Peggy. + +"Now, Miss Peggy, love, what will you do? Miss Earnshaw won't be here +till to-morrow. I'll try to be ready so as to take you out this +afternoon if it's fine, for it's not a half-holiday. It'd be very dull +for you all day alone--to-morrow the young gentlemen will be at home as +it's Saturday." + +A bright idea struck Peggy. + +"Fanny," she said, "did mamma or nurse say anything about soap-bubbles?" + +Fanny shook her head. + +"No, miss. But I'm sure there'd be no objection to your playing at them +if you liked. I can easy get a little basin and some soap and water for +you. But have you a pipe?" + +Peggy shook her head. + +"It isn't for me, Fanny, thank you," she said. "It's for my brothers +most. I'd like to make a surprise for them while mamma's away." + +"Yes, that would be very nice," said Fanny, who had been charged at all +costs to make Peggy happy. "We'll talk about it. But I'd better get on +with my work, so as to get out a bit this afternoon." + +"Very well. I'll go up to the nursery," said the little girl. + +The nursery seemed very strange. Peggy had never seen it look quite so +empty. Not only were nurse and the little ones gone, but it seemed as +if everything belonging to them had gone too, for nurse had sat up late +the night before and got up very early this same morning to put +everything into perfect order before leaving. The tidiness was quite +unnatural. Peggy sat down in a corner and gave a deep sigh. Just then +she did not even care to turn to the window, where the sunshine was +pouring in brightly, sparkling on the two little scarlet shoes, standing +side by side on the sill, where Peggy placed them every fine morning, +that they might enjoy the sight of the white cottage on the hill! + +"I almost wish it was raining," she half whispered to herself, till she +remembered how very disagreeable a wet day would have been for mamma and +the others to travel on. "I hope it will be a sunny day when they come +back," she added, as a sort of make-up for her forgetfulness. + +And then she got up and wandered into the other room. Here one of Hal's +old shoes, which had fallen out of a bundle of things to be given away +which nurse had taken downstairs just before going, was lying on the +floor. Peggy stooped and picked it up. How well she knew the look of +Hal's shoes; there was the round bump of his big toe, and the hole at +the corner where a bit of his red sock used to peep out! It gave her a +strange dreamy feeling as she looked at it. It seemed as if it could not +be true that Hallie was far away--"far, far away" by this time, thought +Peggy, for she always felt as if the moment people were in the railway +they were whizzed off hundreds of miles in an instant. She stroked the +poor old shoe lovingly and kissed it. I don't think just then she would +have parted with it for anything; it would have cost her less to give +away the lovely little scarlet ones. + +The thought of the old clothes turned her mind to the children at the +back. + +"I wonder if nurse gave them any of Hal's and Baby's old things," she +said to herself. + +And she went to the window with a vague idea of looking to see. She had +not watched the Smileys or their relations much for some days; she had +been busy helping mamma and nurse in various little ways, and her mind +had been very full of the going away. She almost felt as if she had +neglected her opposite neighbours, though, of course, they knew nothing +about it, and she was quite pleased to see them all there as usual, or +even more than usual. For it was so fine a day that Reddy and her +mother were evidently having a grand turn-out--a sort of spring +cleaning, I suppose. + +Small pieces of carpet, and one or two mats, much the worse for wear, +were hanging out at the open windows. Reddy's head, tied up in a cloth +to keep the dust out of her hair, was to be seen every minute or two, as +she thumped about with a long broom, and Mary-Hann presently appeared +with a pail of soapy water which she emptied at a grid in the gutter. +Mary-Hann looked rather depressed, but Reddy's spirits were fully equal +to the occasion. Had the window been open, Peggy felt sure she would +have been able to hear her shouting to her sister to "look sharp," or to +"mind what she was about," even more vigorously than usual. + +The rest of the family, excepting, of course, the boys, were assembled +on the pavement in front of Mr. Crick the cobbler's shop. He too had +opened his window to enjoy the fine day, and in the background he could +be dimly seen working, as dingy and leathery as ever. Mrs. Whelan's +frilled cap and pipe looked out for a moment and then disappeared again. +Apparently just then there was nobody or nothing she _could_ scold. + +For the poor children on the pavement were behaving very quietly. The +Smileys had stayed at home from school to mind the babies, with a view +to smoothing the way for the spring cleaning, no doubt, and were +sitting, each with a child on her lap, in two little old chairs they had +carried down. Crippley was rocking herself gently in her chair beside +them, and the last baby but two, as Peggy then thought, was on his knees +on the ground, amusing himself with two or three oyster shells and a few +marbles. All these particulars Peggy, from her high-up nursery window, +could not, of course, see clearly, but she saw enough to make her sigh +deeply as she thought that after all, the Smileys were much to be +envied. + +"I daresay they're telling theirselves stories," she said to herself. +"They look so comfable." + +Just then the big baby happened to come more in sight, and she saw that +one of the things he was playing with was a little shoe--an odd one +apparently. He had filled it with marbles, and was pulling it across the +stones. Up jumped Peggy from her seat on the window-sill. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, though there was no one to hear, "it must be the +nother shoe of this. What a pity! They'd do for Tip, and p'raps they've +thought there wasn't a nother. How I would like to take it them! I'll +call Fanny and see if she'll run across with it." + +Downstairs she went, calling Fanny from time to time as she journeyed. +But no Fanny replied; she was down in the kitchen, and to the kitchen +Peggy knew mamma would not like her to go. She stood at last in the +passage wondering what to do, when, glancing round, she noticed that the +back-door opening into the yard was temptingly open. Peggy peeped +out--there was no one there, but, still more tempting, the door leading +into the small back street--the door just opposite the Smiley +mansion--stood open, wide open too, and even from where she was the +little girl could catch sight of the group on the other side of the +narrow street. + +She trotted across the yard, and stood for a minute, the shoe in her +hand, gazing at the six children. The sound of their voices reached her. + +"Halfred is quite took up with his shoe," said Brown Smiley. "I told +mother she moight as well give it he--a hodd shoe's no good to nobody." + +"'Tis a pity there wasn't the two of 'em," said Crippley, in a thin, +rather squeaky voice. "They'd a done bee-yutiful for----" + +[Illustration: '"For Tip--yes, that's what _I_ were thinking," cried an +eager little voice. "Here's the other shoe; I've just founded it." + +And little Peggy, with her neat hair and clean pinafore, stood in the +middle of the children holding out Hal's slipper, and smiling at them +like an old friend.' + +P. 92] + +"For Tip--yes, that's what _I_ were thinking," cried an eager little +voice. "Here's the other shoe; I've just founded it." + +And little Peggy, with her neat hair and clean pinafore, stood in the +middle of the children holding out Hal's slipper, and smiling at them, +like an old friend. + +For a moment or two they were all too astonished to speak; they could +scarcely have stared more had they caught sight of a pair of wings on +her shoulders, by means of which she had flown down from the sky. + +Then Light Smiley nudged Crippley, and murmured something which Peggy +could not clearly hear, about "th' young lady hopposite." + +"Thank you, miss," then said Crippley, not quite knowing what to say. +"Here, Halfred, you'll have to find summat else to make a carridge of; +give us the shoe--there's a good boy." + +Halfred stopped playing, and still on his knees on the pavement stared +up suspiciously at his sister. Brown Smiley, by way of taking part in +what was going on, swooped down over him and caught up the shoe before +he saw what she was doing, cleverly managing to hold her baby on her +knee all the same. + +"'Ere it be," she said. "Sarah, put Florence on Lizzie's lap for a +minute, and run you upstairs with them two shoes to mother. They'll do +splendid for Tommy, they will. And thank the young lady." + +Sarah, otherwise Light Smiley, got up obediently, deposited _her_ baby +on Crippley's lap and held out her hand to Peggy for the other shoe, +bobbing as she did so, with a "Thank you, miss." + +Peggy left off smiling and looked rather puzzled. + +"For Tommy," she repeated. "Who is Tommy? I thought they'd do for Tip. +I----" + +It was now the sisters' turn to stare, but they had not much time to do +so, for Halfred, who had taken all this time to arrive at the knowledge +that his new plaything had been taken from him, suddenly burst into a +loud howl--so loud, so deliberate and determined, that Peggy stopped +short, and all the group seemed for a moment struck dumb. + +Brown Smiley was the first to speak. + +"Come, now, Halfred," she said, "where's your manners? You'd never stop +Tommy having a nice pair o' shoes." + +But Halfred continued to weep--he gazed up at Peggy, the tears streaming +down his smutty face, his mouth wide open, howling hopelessly. + +"Poor little boy," said Peggy, looking ready to cry herself. "I wish I'd +a nother old shoe for him." + +"Bless you, miss, he's always a-crying--there's no need to worry," said +Crippley, whose real name was Lizzie. "Take him in with you, Sarah, and +tell mother he's a naughty boy, that's what he is," and Light Smiley +picked him up and ran off with him in such a hurry that Peggy stood +still repeating "poor little boy" before she knew what had become of +him. + +Quiet was restored, however. Peggy, having done what she came for, +should have gone home, but the attractions of society were too much for +her. She lingered--Crippley pushed Sarah's empty chair towards her. + +"Take a seat, miss," she said. "You'll excuse me not gettin' up. Onst +I'm a-sittin' down, it's not so heasy." + +Peggy looked at her with great interest. + +"Does it hurt much?" she asked. + +Lizzie smiled in a superior way. + +"Bless you," she said again, "_hurt's_ no word for it. It's hall +over--but it's time I were used to it--never mind about me, missy. I'm +sure it was most obligin' of you to bring the shoe, but won't your mamma +and your nurse scold you?" + +"My mamma's gone away, and so has my nurse," said Peggy. "I'm all +alone." + +All the eyes looked up with sympathy. + +"Deary me, who'd a thought it?" said Brown Smiley. "But there must be +somebody to do for you, miss." + +"To what?" asked Peggy. "Of course there's cook, and Fanny, and my +brothers, and my papa when he comes home." + +Brown Smiley looked relieved. She was only a very little girl, not more +than three years older than Peggy herself, though she seemed so much +more, and she had really thought that the little visitor meant to say +she was quite, quite by herself. + +"Oh!" she said, "that's not being real alone." + +"But it is," persisted Peggy. "It is very alone, I can tell you. I've +nobody to play with, and nothing to do 'cept to look out of the window +at you playing, and at the nother window at----" + +"The winder to the front," said Lizzie, eagerly. "It must be splendid at +your front, miss. Father told me onst you could see the 'ills--ever so +far right away in Brackenshire. Some day if I could but get along a bit +better I'd like fine to go round to your front, miss. I've never seed a +'ill." + +Lizzie was quite out of breath with excitement. Peggy answered eagerly, + +"Oh I do wish you could come to our day nursery window. When it's fine +you can see the mountings--that's old, no, big hills, you know. And--on +one of them you can see a white cottage; it does so shine in the sun." + +"Bless me," said Lizzie, and both the Smileys, for Sarah had come back +by now, stood listening with open mouths. + +"Father's from Brackenshire," said Light Smiley, whose real name was +Sarah. She spoke rather timidly, for she was well kept in her place by +her four elder sisters. For a wonder they did not snub her. + +"Yes, he be," added Matilda, "and he's told us it's bee-yutiful over +there. He lived in a cottage, he did, when he were a little lad." + +"Mebbe 'tis father's cottage miss sees shining," ventured Sarah. But +this time she was not so lucky. + +"Rubbish, Sarah," said Lizzie. "There's more'n one cottage in +Brackenshire." + +"And there's a mamma and a baby--and a papa who goes to work, in my +cottage," said Peggy. "So I don't think it could be----" but here she +grew confused, remembering that all about the white cottage was only +fancy, and that besides the Smileys' father _might_ have lived there +long ago. She got rather red, feeling somehow as if it was not very kind +of her not to like the idea of its being his cottage. She had seen him +once or twice; he looked big and rough, and his clothes were old--she +could not fancy him ever having lived in her dainty white house. + +Just then came a loud voice from the upper story, demanding Sarah. + +"'Tis Mother Whelan," said Brown Smiley, starting up. "Rebecca said as +how I was to run of an errant for her. It's time I were off." + +Peggy turned to go. + +"I must go home," she said. "P'raps I'll come again some day. If mamma +was at home I'd ask her if you mightn't come to look out of the nursery +window," she added, turning to Lizzie. + +"Bless you," said the poor girl, "I'd never get up the stairs; thank you +all the same." + +And with a deep sigh of regret at having to leave such pleasant company, +Peggy ran across the street home. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A BUN TO THE GOOD + + "The little gift from out our store." + + +THE yard door was still open; so was the house door. Peggy met no one as +she ran in. + +"Fanny's upstairs, p'raps," she said to herself. But no, she saw nothing +of Fanny either on the way up or in the nursery. She did not feel dull +or lonely now, however. She went to the back window and stood there for +a minute looking at Crippley and Light Smiley, who were still there with +the two babies. How funny it seemed that just a moment or two ago she +had been down there actually talking to them! She could scarcely believe +they were the very same children whom for so long she had known by +sight. + +"I am so glad I found the shoe," thought Peggy. "I wish, oh I do wish I +could have a tea-party, and 'avite them all to tea. I daresay the +father could carry Crippley upstairs--he's a very big man." + +The thought of the father carried her thoughts to Brackenshire and the +cottage on the hill, and she went into the day-nursery to look if the +white spot was still to be seen. Yes, it was very bright and clear in +the sunshine. Peggy gazed at it while a smile broke over her grave +little face. + +"How I do wish I could go there," she thought. "I wonder if the Smileys' +father 'amembers about when he was a little boy, quite well. If he +wasn't such a 'nugly man we might ask him to tell us stories about it." + +Then she caught sight of the little scarlet shoes patiently standing on +the window-sill. + +"Dear little shoes," she said. "Peggy was neely forgetting you," and she +took them up and kissed them. "Next time I go to see the Smileys," she +thought, "I'll take the red shoes with me to show them. They _will_ be +pleased." + +Then she got out her work and sat down to do it, placing her chair where +she could see the hills from, the little shoes in her lap, feeling quite +happy and contented. It seemed but a little while till Fanny came up to +lay the cloth for Peggy's dinner. She had been working extra hard that +morning, so as to be ready for the afternoon, and perhaps her head was a +little confused. And so when Peggy began telling her her adventures she +did not listen attentively, and answered "yes" and "no" without really +knowing what she was saying. + +"And so when I couldn't find you, Fanny, I just runned over with the +'nother shoe myself. And the poor little boy what was playing with +the--the _not_ the 'nother one, you know, did so cry, but I think he +soon left off. And some day I'm going to ask mamma to let me 'avite them +all to tea, for them to see the hills, and----" but here Peggy stopped, +"the hills, you know, out of the window." + +"Yes, dear; very nice," said Fanny. "You've been a good little girl to +amuse yourself so quietly all the morning and give no trouble. I do +wonder if the washerwoman knows to come for the nursery things, or if I +must send," she went on, speaking, though aloud, to herself. + +So Peggy felt perfectly happy about all she had done, not indeed that +she had had the slightest misgiving. + +The afternoon passed very pleasantly. It was quite a treat to Peggy to +go a walk in a grown-up sort of way with Fanny, trotting by her side +and talking comfortably, instead of having to take Hal's hand and +lugging him along to keep well in front of the perambulator. They went +up the Ferndale Road--a good way, farther than Peggy had ever been--so +far indeed that she could scarcely understand how it was the hills did +not seem much nearer than from the nursery window, but when she asked +Fanny, Fanny said it was often so with hills--"nothing is more +undependable." Peggy did not quite understand her, but put it away in +her head to think about afterwards. + +And when they came home it was nearly tea-time. Peggy felt quite +comfortably tired when she had taken off her things and began to help +Fanny to get tea ready for the boys, and when they arrived, all three +very hungry and rather low-spirited at the thought of mamma and nurse +being away, it was very nice for them to find the nursery quite as tidy +as usual--indeed, perhaps, rather tidier--and Peggy, with a bright face, +waiting with great pride to pour out tea for them. + +"I think you're a very good housekeeper, Peg," said Terence, who was +always the first to say something pleasant. + +"Not so bad," agreed Thorold, patronisingly. + +Baldwin sat still, looking before him solemnly, and considering his +words, as was his way before _he_ said anything. + +"I think," he began at last, "I think that when I'm a big man I'll live +in a cottage all alone with Peggy, and not no one else." + +Peggy turned to him with sparkling eyes. + +"A _white_ cottage, Baldwin dear; do say a white cottage," she +entreated. + +"I don't mind--a white cottage, but quite a tiny one," he replied. + +"Hum!" said Thor, "that's very good-natured, I must say. There'll be no +room for visitors, do you hear, Terry?" + +"Oh yes; p'raps there will sometimes," said Peggy. + +"You'll let your poor old Terry come, won't you, Peg-top?" said Terence, +coaxingly. + +"Dear Terry," said Peggy. + +"Haven't you been very dull all day alone, by the bye?" Terence went on. + +"Not very," Peggy replied. "Fanny took me a nice walk, and this +morning----" But she stopped short before telling more. She was afraid +that Thorold would laugh at her if she said how much she liked the +children at the back, and then she had another reason. She wanted to +"surprise" her brothers with a present of pipes for soap-bubbles, and +very likely if she began talking about the back street at all it would +make them think of Mrs. Whelan's, and then they might think of the pipes +for themselves, which Peggy did not wish at all. She felt quite big and +managing since she had paid a visit to the Smileys, and had a plan for +going to buy the pipes "all by my own self." + +"To-morrow," said Thorold, "there's to be a party at our school. We're +all three to go." + +Peggy's face fell. + +"It's Saturday," she said. "I thought you'd have stayed with me." + +Terence and Baldwin looked sorry. + +"_I'll_ stay at home," said Terry. + +"No," said Thor, "I really don't think you can. They're counting on you +for some of the games. Peg won't mind much for once, will you? I'm sorry +too." + +But before Peggy had time to reply, Baldwin broke in. + +"I'll stay at home with Peg-top," he said, in his slow, distinct way. +"It won't matter for me not going. I'm one of the little ones." + +"And we'll go a nice walk, won't we, Baldwin?" said Peggy, quite happy +again. "And I daresay we may have something nice for tea. I'll ask +papa," she added to herself. "I'm sure he'll give me some pennies when +he hears how good Baldwin is." + +Miss Earnshaw came the next morning, and in the interest of being +measured for her new spring frock, and watching it being cut out, and +considering what she herself could make with the scraps which the young +dressmaker gave her, the time passed very pleasantly for Peggy. + +Miss Earnshaw admired the red shoes very much, and was interested to +hear the story of the unknown lady who had given them to Peggy, and told +a story of a similar adventure of her own when she was a little girl. +And after dinner she, for Fanny was very busy, took Peggy and Baldwin +out for a walk, and on their way home they went to the confectioner's +and bought six halfpenny buns with the three pennies papa had given +Peggy that morning. At least the children thought there were only six, +but greatly to their surprise, when they undid the parcel on the nursery +table, out rolled seven! + +"Oh dear!" said Peggy, "she's gave us one too many. Must we go back to +the shop with it, do you think, Miss Earnshaw? It's such a long way." + +"I'll go," said Baldwin, beginning to fasten his boots again. + +But Miss Earnshaw assured them it was all right. + +"You always get thirteen of any penny buns or cakes for a shilling," she +said; "and some shops will give you seven halfpenny ones for threepence. +That's how it is. Did you never hear speak of a baker's dozen?" + +Still Peggy did not feel satisfied. + +"It isn't comfable," she said, giving herself a little wriggle--a trick +of hers when she was put out. "Six would have been much nicer--just two +for each," for Miss Earnshaw was to have tea with her and Baldwin. + +The young dressmaker smiled. + +"You _are_ funny, Miss Peggy," she said. "Well, run off now and get +ready for tea. We'll have Fanny bringing it up in a minute." + +Peggy, the seventh bun still much on her mind, went slowly into the +night nursery. Before beginning to take off her hat she strolled to the +window and looked out. She had seen none of the children to-day. Now, +Brown Smiley was standing just in front of the house, a basket on her +arm, staring up and down the street. She had been "of an errant" for +Mrs. Whelan, but Mrs. Whelan's door was locked; she was either asleep or +counting her money, and the little girl knew that if she went on +knocking the old woman would get into a rage, so she was "waitin' a +bit." She liked better to do her waiting in the street, for she had been +busy indoors all the morning, and it was a change to stand there looking +about her. + +Peggy gazed at her for a moment or two. Then an idea struck her. She ran +back into the nursery and seized a bun--the odd bun. + +"They're all mine, you know," she called out to Baldwin; "but we'll have +two each still." + +Baldwin looked up in surprise. "What are you going to do with it?" he +began to say, but Peggy was out of sight. + +She was soon downstairs, and easily opened the back door. But the yard +door was fastened; she found some difficulty in turning the big key. She +managed it at last, however, and saw to her delight that Brown Smiley +was still there. + +"Brown," began Peggy, but suddenly recollecting that the Smileys had +real names, she stopped short, and ran across the street. "I can't +'amember your name," she exclaimed, breathlessly, "but I've brought you +this," and she held out the bun. + +Brown Smiley's face smiled all over. + +"Lor', miss," she exclaimed. "You are kind, to be sure. Mayn't I give it +to Lizzie? She's been very bad to-day, and she's eat next to nought. +This 'ere'll be tasty-like." + +"Lizzie," repeated Peggy, "which is Lizzie? Oh yes, I know, it's +Crippley." + +Brown Smiley looked rather hurt. + +"It's not her fault, miss," she said. "I'd not like her to hear herself +called like that." + +Peggy's face showed extreme surprise. + +"How do you mean?" she said. "I've made names for you all. I didn't know +your real ones." + +Brown Smiley looked at her and saw in a moment that there was nothing to +be vexed about. + +"To be sure, miss. Beg your pardon. Well, she that's lame's Lizzie, and +me, I'm Matilda-Jane." + +"Oh yes," interrupted Peggy. "Well, you may give her the bun if you +like. It's very kind of you, for I meant it for you. I'd like----" she +went on, "I'd like to give you more, but you see papa gaved me the +pennies for us, and p'raps he'd be vexed." + +"To be sure, to be sure, that'd never do," replied Matilda, quickly. +"But oh, miss, we've been asking father about Brackenshire, and the +cottages. 'Tis Brackenshire 'ills, sure enough, that's seen from your +front." + +"I knew that," said Peggy, in a superior way. + +But Brown Smiley was too eager to feel herself snubbed. + +"And oh, but he says it is bee-yutiful there--over on the 'ills. The +air's that fresh, and there's flowers and big-leaved things as they +calls ferns and brackens." + +"And white cottages?" asked Peggy, anxiously. + +"There's cottages--I didn't think for to ask if they was all white. My! +If we could but go there some fine day. Father says it's not so far; +many's the time he's walked over there and back again the next morning +when he first comed to work here, you see, miss, and his 'ome was still +over there like." + +"Yes, in the white cottage," said Peggy. She had made up her mind that +it was unkind not to "let it be" that the Smileys' father had lived in +that very cottage, for he did seem to be a nice man in spite of his +bigness and his dingy workman's clothes. If he wasn't nice and kind she +didn't think the children would talk of him as they did. + +[Illustration: "I can't 'amember your name," she exclaimed breathlessly, +"but I've brought you this," and she held out the bun. + +Brown Smiley's face smiled all over. + +"Lor', miss," she exclaimed. "You are kind to be sure. Mayn't I give it +to Lizzie? She's been very bad to-day, and she's eat next to nought. +This 'ere'll be tasty-like." + + * * * * * + +But suddenly a window above opened, and Mother Whelan's befrilled face +was thrust out. + +"What are ye about there then, and me fire burning itself away, and me +tea ready, waiting for the bread? What's the young lady chatterin' to +the like o' you for? Go home, missy, darlin', go home." + +P.P. 107-9] + +But she spoke absently; Matilda-Jane's words had put thoughts in her +head which seemed to make her almost giddy. Brown Smiley stared at her +for a minute. + +"How she do cling to them cottages being white," she thought to herself, +"but there--if it pleases her! She's but a little one." "White if you +please, miss," she replied, "though I can't say as I had it from +father." + +But suddenly a window above opened, and Mother Whelan's befrilled face +was thrust out. + +"What are ye about there then, and me fire burning itself away, and me +tea ready, waiting for the bread? What's the young lady chatterin' to +the likes o' you for? Go home, missy, darlin', go home." + +The two children jumped as if they had been shot. + +"Will she beat you?" whispered Peggy, looking very frightened. But Brown +Smiley shook her little round head and laughed. + +"She won't have a chance, and she dursn't not to say beat us--father'd +be down on her--but she doesn't think nought of a good shakin'. But I'll +push the basket in and run off if she's in a real wax." + +"Good-bye, then. You must tell me lots more about the hills. Ask your +father all you can," and so saying, Peggy flew home again. + +"Where've you been, what did you do with the bun?" asked Baldwin, as +soon as she came in to the nursery. + +"I runned down with it, and gaved it to a little girl I saw in the +street," said Peggy. + +"Very kind and nice, I'm sure," said Miss Earnshaw. "Was it a beggar, +Miss Peggy? You're sure your mamma and nurse wouldn't mind?" she added, +rather anxiously. + +"Oh no," said Peggy. "It's not a _beggar_. It's a proper little poor +girl what nurse gives our nold clothes to." + +"Oh," said Baldwin, "one of the children over the cobbler's, I suppose. +But, Peggy," he was going on to say he didn't think his sister had ever +been allowed to run down to the back street to speak to them, only he +was so slow and so long of making up his mind that, as Fanny just then +came in with the tea, which made a little bustle, nobody attended to +him, and Miss Earnshaw remained quite satisfied that all was right. + +The buns tasted very good--all the better to Peggy from the feeling +that poor lame Lizzie was perhaps eating hers at that same moment, and +finding it "tasty." + +"Does lame people ever get quite better?" she asked the young +dressmaker. + +"That depends," Miss Earnshaw replied. "If it's through a fall or +something that way, outside of them so to say, there's many as gets +better. But if it's _in_ them, in the constitution, there's many as +stays lame all their lives through." + +Peggy wriggled a little. She didn't like to think about it much. It +sounded so mysterious. + +"What part's that?" she asked; "that big word." + +"Constitootion," said Baldwin, as if he was trying to spell +"Constantinople." + +Miss Earnshaw laughed. She lived alone with her mother, and was not much +used to children. But she was so pleasant-tempered and gentle that she +easily got into their ways. + +"I shouldn't use such long words," she said. "Our constitution just +means ourselves--the way we're made. A strong, healthy person is said to +have a good constitution, and a weakly person has a poor one." + +Baldwin and Peggy both sat silent for a minute, thinking over what she +said. + +"I don't see how that's to do with crippling," said Peggy at last. "Does +you mean," she went on, "that p'raps lame people's legs is made +wrong--by mistake, you know. _In course_ God wouldn't do it of purpose, +would he?" + +Baldwin looked rather startled. + +"Peggy," he said, "I don't think you should speak that way." + +Peggy turned her gray eyes full upon him. + +"I don't mean to say anything naughty," she said. "_Is_ it naughty, Miss +Earnshaw?" + +The young dressmaker had herself been rather taken aback by Peggy's +queer speech, and for a moment or two scarcely knew what to say. But +then her face cleared again. + +"God can't make mistakes, Miss Peggy," she said, "and He is always kind. +All the same there's many things that seem like one or the other, I +know. It must be that there's reasons for them that we can't see--like +when a doctor hurts anybody, it seems unkind, but it's _really_ to do +them good." + +"Like when our doctor cutted poor Baby's tooths to make them come +through," said Peggy, eagerly. "They was all _bleeding_, bleeding ever +so, Miss Earnshaw. Baby didn't understand, and he was _very_ angry. He +always sc'eams at the doctor now. I almost think he'd like to kill him." + +Baldwin opened his mouth wide at these bloodthirsty sentiments of +Baby's. He was too shocked to speak. + +"But it is only 'cos he doesn't understand," Peggy went on, placidly. +"_I_ don't sc'eam at the doctor. I speak to him quite goodly, 'cos, you +see, _I_ understand." + +Baldwin closed his mouth again. He looked at Peggy with admiring +respect. + +"Yes," agreed Miss Earnshaw, greatly relieved at the turn their talk had +taken, "that's just it, Miss Peggy. You couldn't have put it better." + +"Peggy," said Baldwin, "when you're big you should be a clergymunt." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +UNDER THE BIG UMBRELLA + + "As I was going up Pippin Hill, + Pippin Hill was dirty, + There I met a pretty miss, + And she dropped me a curtsey." + _Old Nursery Rhyme._ + + +NOTHING particular happened during the next few days. Peggy's little +life went on regularly and peacefully. Miss Earnshaw came every morning, +and either she or Fanny took Peggy a walk every afternoon, except twice +when it rained, to the little girl's great disappointment. + +The second of these wet days happened to be Friday. Peggy stood at the +front nursery window that morning looking out rather sadly. There were +no hills--no white spot to be seen, of course. + +"I wonder what the Smileys do when it rains all day," she said to +herself. "I think I'll go to the back window and look if I can see any +of them." + +She had scarcely caught sight of her neighbours for some days. Only now +and then she had seen the little ones tumbling about on the pavement, +and once or twice the elder girls had brought their chairs down and sat +there sewing. Lizzie had never come out. Peggy feared she must be still +ill, and perhaps that made the others extra busy. It was not likely any +of them would come out to-day, as it was raining so; but _sometimes_ she +was able to see their faces at the window. And on a rainy day some of +the little ones at least would perhaps be looking out. + +She turned to go to the other nursery when Miss Earnshaw spoke to her. + +"I wouldn't be so vexed at its being wet to-day, Miss Peggy, if I was +you," she said. "It'll be much worse if it's wet to-morrow, for it's +your brothers' half-holiday." + +"Is to-morrow Saturday?" asked Peggy. + +"To be sure it is. And I'm afraid I can't possibly stay here in the +afternoon. I've got to go to see a lady some way off about some work. I +wish she hadn't fixed for Saturday. If it's fine it won't matter so +much. Fanny and I were saying you could all go a nice walk--the young +gentlemen and you, with her. But if it's wet I don't know however she'll +manage you all in the house." + +Suddenly Peggy's eyes began to sparkle. + +"Miss Earnshaw," she said, "I've thought of something. If you'll ask +Fanny, I'm sure she'll say we can; we've not had them for such a long +time, and I've got my four pennies and a halfpenny--that'll get six, you +know, in case any's brokened." + +Miss Earnshaw looked at her and then began to laugh. + +"Miss Peggy dear, you must tell me first what you mean," she said. "Your +thoughts come so fast that they run ahead of your words. What is it you +mean to get six of--not buns?" + +"Buns!" repeated Peggy. "You can't blow bubbles with buns. No, of course +I meant pipes. Nice white pipes to blow soap-bubbles." + +"Oh, to be sure," said Miss Earnshaw. "That's a very good idea, Miss +Peggy, in case to-morrow afternoon's wet, and I shouldn't wonder if it +was." + +"And you'll ask Fanny?" + +"Of course; you can ask her yourself for that matter. I'm sure she's the +last to grudge you anything that'd please you and the young gentlemen. +And even if soap-bubbles are rather messy sometimes, it's easy to wipe +up. It's not like anything dirty." + +"Soap must be clean, mustn't it?" said Peggy, laughing. "But don't tell +the boys, pelease, dear Miss Earnshaw. I do so want to 'apprise them. I +can get the pipes to-morrow morning. I know where to get them," and +quite happy, Peggy trotted off to take out her money-box and look to be +quite sure that the three pennies and three halfpennies were there in +safety, where for some weeks they had been waiting. + +"Bless her heart," said the young dressmaker. "She is the sweetest +little innocent darling that ever lived." + +After looking over her pennies Peggy turned to the window. No, none of +the Smileys were to be seen. + +"Never mind," said Peggy to herself. "I'll p'raps see them to-morrow +when I go for the pipes. I almost hope it'll be a wet day. It will be so +nice to blow soap-bubbles. Only," and she sighed a little, "it does seem +such a very long time since I sawed the white cottage." + +To-morrow _was_ rainy, very rainy, with no look of "going to clear up" +about it. The boys grumbled a good deal at breakfast at the doleful +prospect of a dull half-holiday in the house. + +"And papa's going away to-day till Monday," said Thorold; "so there'll +be no going down to the dining-room to sit beside him while he's at +dinner for a change." + +"Poor papa," said Peggy, "he'll get very wet going such a long way." + +"Nonsense, you little goose," said Thor, crossly. "People don't get wet +in cabs and railway carriages." + +"I forgot," said Peggy, meekly. + +"You shouldn't call her a goose, Thor," said Terence. "It's very +disagreeable to travel on a very rainy day. I've often heard people say +so." + +"I wish I was going to travel, rainy or not, I know that," grumbled +Thorold. "Here we shall be mewed up in this stupid nursery all the +afternoon with nothing to do." + +"There's lots of things to do," said Baldwin. "I think I'll write a +letter to mamma for one thing. And I want to tidy my treasure-box +and----" + +"You're a stupid," said Thorold. "You're too fat and slow to have any +spirit in you." + +"Now, Thorold, I say that's not fair," said Terry. + +"Would it show spirit to grumble? You'd be down upon him if he did. +There's no pleasing you." + +"_I_ know something that would please him," said Peggy, who was +trembling between eagerness to tell and determination _not_ to tell her +"surprise." + +"What?" said Thor, rather grumpily still. + +"I'm not going to tell you till you come home. And it'll only be if it's +a rainy afternoon," said Peggy. + +Terence and Baldwin pricked up their ears. + +"Oh, do tell us, Peg-top," they said. + +But the little girl shook her head. + +"No, no," she replied. "I've promised myself--_quite_ promised not." + +"There's a reason for you," said Thor. But his tone was more +good-natured now. He felt ashamed of being so cross when the little ones +were so kind and bright. + +"I'll really, _truly_ tell you when you come back from school," said +Peggy, and with this assurance the boys had to content themselves. + +Miss Earnshaw arrived as usual, or rather not as usual, for she was +dripping, poor thing, and had to leave her waterproof downstairs in the +kitchen. + +"What weather, Miss Peggy," she said, as she came in. "I thought it +would be a wet day, but not such a pour. It is unfortunate that I have +to go so far to-day, isn't it? And I'm sorry to leave you children alone +too." + +"Never mind," said Peggy, cheerily; "we'll be quite happy with the soap +bubbles. I've got my money quite ready. Mayn't I go and get the pipes +now?" + +"Out, my dear? In such weather!" exclaimed Miss Earnshaw. + +"Oh, but it's _quite_ near," said Peggy. "Just hop out of the door and +you're there. The boys always buy their pipes there, and mamma goes +there herself sometimes to see the old woman." + +"Well, wait a bit, any way. It can't go on raining as fast as this all +the morning surely. It's real cats and dogs." + +Peggy looked up in surprise. + +"Cats and dogs, Miss Earnshaw?" she repeated. + +"Oh, bless you, my dear, it's only a way of speaking," said the +dressmaker, a little impatiently, for she was not very much accustomed +to children. "It just means raining _very_ hard." + +Peggy went to the window to look out for herself. Yes indeed it was +raining very hard. The little girl could not help sighing a little as +she gazed at the thick even gray of the clouds, hiding like a curtain +every trace of the distant hills she was so fond of. + +"I won't put out the little red shoes to-day," she said to herself, +"there's nothing for them to see." + +Then other thoughts crept into her mind. + +"I wonder if it's raining at the white cottage too," she said to +herself. And aloud she asked a question. + +"Miss Earnshaw, pelease, does it ever rain in the country?" she said. + +"Rain in the country! I should rather think it did. Worse than in town, +you might say--that's to say, where there's less shelter, you'll get +wetter and dirtier in the country, only of course it's not the same kind +of really black sooty rain. But as for mud in country lanes! I shall see +something of it this afternoon, I expect." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Peggy. "I thought it never rained in the +country. I thought it was always quite pretty and lovely," and she +sighed deeply. "I wonder what people who live in little cottages in the +country do all day when it rains," she said. + +"Why, my dear, much the same as other folk, I should say. They have +their rooms to clean, and their dinner to cook, and their children to +look after. Still I daresay it'd be a bit drearier in the country of a +right-down wet day like this, even than in town. I've never lived there +myself, except for a week at a time at most, but mother was all her +young days in the country." + +"Everybody's fathers and mothers lived there," said Peggy, rather +petulantly. "Why don't peoples let their children live there now?" + +Miss Earnshaw laughed a little. Peggy did not like her to laugh in that +way, and she gave herself a little wriggle, though poor Miss Earnshaw +certainly did not mean to vex her. + +"There are plenty of children in the country too, Miss Peggy," she said. +"Mother's youngest sister has twelve." + +"Twelve," repeated Peggy, "_how_ nice! at least if there's lots of +sisters among them, and no very little babies. Do they live over in that +country?" she went on, pointing in the direction of the invisible hills, +"that country called Brack---- You know the name." + +"Brackenshire," said Miss Earnshaw, "no, my mother comes from much +farther off. A very pretty place it must be by what she says. Not but +what Brackenshire's a pretty country too. I've been there several times +with the Sunday school for a treat." + +"And did you see the hills and the white cottages?" asked Peggy +breathlessly. + +"Oh yes, the hills are beautiful, and there's lots of cottages of all +kinds. They look pretty among the trees, even though they're only poor +little places, most of them." + +"The white ones is the prettiest," said Peggy, as if she knew all about +it. + +"Yes, I daresay," said Miss Earnshaw, without paying much attention; she +had got to rather a difficult part of the sleeve she was making. + +"Did you ever walk all the way there when you was a little girl?" Peggy +went on. + +"Oh yes, of course," Miss Earnshaw replied, without the least idea of +what she was answering. + +"Really!" said Peggy, "how nice!" Then seeing that the dressmaker was +absorbed in her work: "Miss Earnshaw," she said, "I'm going for the +pipes now. It isn't raining _quite_ so fast, and I'll not be long." + +"Very well, my dear," Miss Earnshaw replied, and Peggy went off to fetch +her pennies from the drawer in the other nursery where she kept them. +She had a new idea in her head, an idea which Miss Earnshaw's careless +words had helped to put there, little as she knew it. + +"If I see the Smileys," thought Peggy, "I'll tell them what she said." + +She glanced out of the window, dear me, how lucky! There stood Brown +Smiley looking out at the door, as if she were hesitating before making +a plunge into the dripping wet street. It did seem at the back as if it +were raining faster than in front. Peggy opened the cupboard and took +out her little cloak which was hanging there. + +"I won't put on my hat," she thought, "'cos nurse says the rain spoils +the feavers. I'll get a numbrella downstairs, and then I _can't_ get +wet, and here's my pennies all right in my pocket. I do hope Brown +Smiley will wait till I get down." + +She made all the haste she could, and found, as she expected, an +umbrella in the stand downstairs. It was not very easy to open, but she +succeeded at last, then came, however, another difficulty, she could not +get herself and the umbrella through the back door together. + +"Dear me," thought Peggy, "I wonder how people does with their +numbrellas. They _must_ open them in the house, else they'd get wet +standing outside while they're doing it. I never looked to see how nurse +does, but then we almost never go out when it's rainy. I 'appose it's +one of the hard things big peoples has to learn. Oh, dear! _won't_ it +come through?" + +No, she couldn't manage it, at least not with herself under it. At last +a brilliant idea struck Peggy; anything was better than closing the +tiresome thing now she _had_ got it opened--she would send it first and +follow after herself. So the umbrella was passed through, and went +slipping down the two or three steps that led into the yard, where it +lay gaping up reproachfully at Peggy, who felt inclined to call out +"Never mind, poor thing, I'm coming d'reckly." + +And as "d'reckly" as possible she did come, carefully closing the door +behind her, for fear the rain should get into the house, which, together +with the picking up of the umbrella, far too big and heavy a one for a +tiny girl, took so long that I am afraid a good many drops had time to +fall on the fair uncovered head before it got under shelter again. + +But little cared Peggy. She felt as proud as a peacock, the umbrella +representing the tail, you understand, when she found herself outside +the yard door, which behaved very amiably, fairly under weigh for her +voyage across the street. She could see nothing before her; fortunately, +however, no carriages or carts ever came down the narrow back way. + +Half-way over Peggy stopped short--she had forgotten to look if Brown +Smiley was still standing there. It was not easy to get a peep from +under the umbrella, without tilting it and herself backwards on to the +muddy road, but with great care Peggy managed it. Ah dear, what a +disappointment! There was no little girl in front of the cobbler's +window, but glancing to one side, Peggy caught sight of the small figure +with a shawl of "mother's" quaintly drawn over the head, trotting away +down the street. With a cry Peggy dashed after her. + +"Oh, Brown Smiley," she called out, "do come back. I'm too frightened to +go to buy the pipes alone," for what with her struggles and her +excitement, the little damsel's nerves were rather upset. "Oh, Brown +Smiley--no--no, that's not her name, oh what _is_ your name, Brown +Smiley?" and on along the rough pavement behind the little messenger she +rushed, if indeed poor Peggy's toddling, flopping from one side to +another progress, could possibly be called "rushing." + +[Illustration: "But an umbrella rolling itself about on the pavement, an +umbrella from which proceeds most piteous wails, an umbrella from +underneath which, when you get close to it, you see two little feet +sticking out, and by degrees two neat black legs, and then a muddle of +short skirts, which by rights should be draping the legs, but have +somehow got all turned upside down like a bird's feathers ruffled up the +wrong way--_such_ an umbrella, or perhaps I should say an umbrella in +such circumstances, may certainly be called a strange sight, may it +not?" + +P. 127] + +It came to an end quickly--the paving-stones were rough and uneven, the +small feet had only "my noldest house-shoes" to protect them, and the +"numbrella" was sadly in the way; there came suddenly a sharp cry, so +piercing and distressful that even Matilda-Jane, accustomed as she was +to childish sounds of woe of every kind and pitch, was startled enough +to turn round and look behind her. + +"Can it be Halfred come a-runnin' after me?" she said to herself. But +the sight that met her eyes puzzled her so, that at the risk of Mother +Whelan's scoldings for being so long, she could not resist running back +to examine for herself the strange object. This was nothing more nor +less than an umbrella, and an umbrella in itself is not an uncommon +sight. But an umbrella rolling itself about on the pavement, an umbrella +from which proceeds most piteous wails, an umbrella from underneath +which, when you get close to it, you see two little feet sticking out +and by degrees two neat black legs, and then a muddle of short skirts, +which by rights should be draping the legs, but have somehow got all +turned upside down like a bird's feathers ruffled up the wrong +way--_such_ an umbrella, or perhaps I should say an umbrella in such +circumstances, certainly may be called a strange sight, may it not? + +Matilda-Jane Simpkins, for that was Brown Smiley's whole long name, +thought so any way, for she stood stock still, staring, and the only +thing she could collect herself enough to say was, "Lor'!" + +But her state of stupefaction only lasted half a moment. She was a +practical and business-like little person; before there was time for +another cry for help, she had disentangled the umbrella and its owner, +and set the latter on her feet again, sobbing piteously, and dreadfully +dirty and muddy, but otherwise not much the worse. + +Then Matilda-Jane gave vent to another exclamation. + +"Bless me, missy, it's _you_!" she cried. "Whatever are you a-doing of +to be out in the rain all alone, with no 'at and a humbrella four sizes +too big for the likes of you, and them paper-soled things on yer feet? +and, oh my! ain't yer frock muddy? What'll your folk say to you? Or is +they all away and left you and the cat to keep 'ouse?" + +"I was running after you, Brown Smiley," sobbed Peggy. She could not +quite make out if Matilda-Jane was making fun of her or not, and, +indeed, to do Matilda justice, she had no such intention. "I was running +after _you_," Peggy repeated, "and you _wouldn't_ stop, and I couldn't +run fast 'cos of the numbrella, and so I felled down." + +"Never mind, missy dear, you'll be none the worse, you'll see. Only, +will they give it you when you go home for dirtying of your frock?" + +"Give it me?" repeated Peggy. + +"Yes, give it you; will you get it--will you catch it?" said Matilda, +impatiently. + +"I don't know what you mean," Peggy replied. + +Matilda wasted no more words on her. She took her by the arm, umbrella +and all, and trotted her down the street again till they had reached the +Smiley mansion. Then she drew Peggy inside the doorway of the passage, +whence a stair led up to Mrs. Whelan's, and to the Simpkins's own rooms +above that again, and having shut up the umbrella with such perfect ease +that Peggy gazed at her in admiration, she tried to explain her meaning. + +"Look 'ere now, miss;" she said, "which'll you do--go straight +over-the-way 'ome, just as you are, or come in along of _huz_ and get +yerself cleaned up a bit?" + +"Oh, I'll go in with you, pelease," sobbed Peggy. + +"P'raps Miss Earnshaw wouldn't scold me. She let me come, and I didn't +fell down on purpose. But I _know_ she wouldn't let me come out +again--I'm sure she wouldn't, and I do so want to get the pipes my own +self. You'll take me to Mrs. Whelan's, won't you, dear Brown Smiley?" + +"I'll catch it when she sees I haven't done her errant," said Matilda. +"But never mind; she'll not be so bad with you there, maybe. Come up +with me, missy, and I'll get Rebecca to wipe you a bit," and she began +the ascent of the narrow staircase, followed by Peggy. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE OPPOSITE HOUSE + + "There was an old woman that lived in a shoe, + She had so many children she didn't know what to do." + _Nursery Rhymes._ + + +IN spite of her misfortunes, Peggy could not help feeling very pleased +at finding herself at last inside the house she had watched so often +from the outside. It was certainly not a pretty house--a big person +would probably have thought it a very poor and uninteresting one; but it +was not dirty. The old wooden steps were scrubbed down once a week +regularly, so there was nothing to strike the little girl as +disagreeable, and it seemed delightfully queer and mysterious as she +climbed the steep, uneven staircase, which grew darker and darker as +they went on, so that but for Brown Smiley's voice in front, Peggy would +not have had the least idea where she was going. + +"There's Mother Whelan's door," Matilda said in a half whisper, as if +afraid of the old woman's pouncing out upon them, and Peggy wondered how +she knew it, for to her everything was perfectly dark; "but we'll go +upstairs first to Rebecca," and on they climbed. + +Suddenly, what seemed for a moment a blaze of brilliant light from the +contrast with the darkness where they were, broke upon them. Peggy quite +started. But it was only the opening of a door. + +"Is that you, Matilda-Jane? My, but you have been sharp. I should think +old Whelan 'ud be pleased for onst." + +The speaker was Reddy; she stood in the doorway, her bare red arms +shining, as they always did, from being so often up to the elbows in +soap and water. + +"Oh, Rebecca, don't say nothin', but I've not been of my errant yet. +Now, don't ye begin at me--'tweren't of my fault. I was a-'urryin' along +when I saw miss 'ere a-rollin' in the wet with her humberellar, and I +'ad to pick her up. She's that muddy we were afeard they'd give it her +over the way--her mar's away. So I told her as you'd tidy her up a bit. +Come along, missy. Rebecca's got a good 'eart, has Rebecca; she'll +clean you nicely, you'll see." + +For at the sound of Rebecca's sharp voice poor Peggy had slunk back into +the friendly gloom of the staircase. But she came creeping forward now, +so that Reddy saw her. + +"Lor'!" said the big girl, "little miss from the hopposite winder to be +sure." + +This quite restored Peggy's courage. + +"Have you seen me at the window?" she said. "How funny! I've looked at +you lotses and lotses of times, but I never thought of you looking at +me." + +To which both sisters replied with their favourite exclamation, "Lor'!" + +Just then came a voice from inside. + +"Shut the door there, Rebecca, can't you? If there's one thing I can't +abide, and you might know it, it's a hopen door, and the draught right +on baby's head." + +Rebecca took Peggy by the hand and drew her into the room, and while she +was relating the story of little missy's misfortunes to her mother, +little missy looked round her with the greatest interest. + +It was a small room, but oh, how full of children! Dinner was being got +ready "against father and the boys coming home," Matilda said, but where +father and the boys could possibly find space to stand, much less to +sit, Peggy lay awake wondering for a long time that night. She counted +over all those already present, and found they were all there except +Lizzie, the lame girl. And besides the two babies and Alfred, whom she +knew by sight, she was amazed to see a fourth, a very tiny doll of a +thing--the tiniest thing she had ever seen, but which they all were as +proud of as if there had never been a baby among them before. At this +moment it was reposing in the arms of Mary-Hann; Light Smiley, whose +real name was Sarah, you remember, was taking charge of the two big +babies in one corner, while Reddy and her mother were busy at the fire, +and "Halfred" was amusing himself quietly with some marbles, apparently +his natural occupation. + +What a lot of them! Peggy began to feel less sure that she would like to +have as many sisters as the Smileys. Still they all looked happy, and +their mother, whom Peggy had never seen before, had really a very kind +face. + +"I'll see to the pot, Rebecca," she said; "just you wipe missy's frock a +bit. 'Twill be none the worse, you'll see. And so your dear mar's away +missy. I 'ope the change'll do her good." + +"Yes, thank you," said Peggy. "She's gone to the country. Did you ever +live in the country? And was it in a white cottage?" + +Mrs. Simpkins smiled. + +"No, missy, I'm town-bred. 'Tis father as knows all about the country; +he's a Brackenshire man." + +"Oh yes," said Peggy, "I forgot. It's Miss Earnshaw's mother I was +thinking of." + +"But father," said Matilda, "_he_ can tell lots of tales about the +country." + +"I wish he was at home," said Peggy. "But I must go, now my frock's +cleaned. Some day p'raps I'll come again. Thank you, Reddy," at which +Rebecca, who had been vigorously rubbing Peggy's skirts, stared and +looked as if she were going to say "Lor'!" "I'm going to buy soap-bubble +pipes at Mrs. Whelan's," Peggy went on, for she was losing her shyness +now; "that's what I comed out in the rain for. We're going to play at +soap-bubbles this afternoon, 'cos it's too wet to go out a walk." + +All the Smileys listened with great interest. + +"Mayn't Brown--I mean Matilda-Jane--come with me, pelease?" said Peggy. +"I'm _razer_ frightened to go to buy them alone; sometimes that old +woman does look so cross." + +"She looks what she is then," said Reddy, "'cept for one thing; she's +awful good to Lizzie. She's a-sittin' down there this very minute as is, +is Lizzie, to be out o' the way like when mother and me's cleaning, you +see, miss." + +Brown Smiley's face had grown grave. + +"I dursn't let Mother Whelan see as I've not gone," she said, "but if +missy doesn't like to go alone--not as she'd be sharp to the likes of +you, but still----" + +"_I'll_ go," said little Sarah, Light Smiley, that is to say. "Jest you +see to the childer will ye, Mary-Hann?" she shouted to the deaf sister. +"I won't be harf a minute." + +"And you, Matilda-Jane, off with you," said Rebecca, which advice Brown +Smiley instantly followed. + +Sarah took Peggy's hand to escort her down the dark staircase again. +Light Smiley was, of all the family perhaps, Peggy's favourite. She was +two years or so older than her little opposite neighbour, but she +scarcely looked it, for both she and Brown Smiley were small and slight, +and when you came to speak to them both, Sarah seemed a good deal +younger than Matilda; she was so much less managing and decided in +manner, but on the present occasion Peggy would have preferred the elder +Smiley, for to tell the truth her heart was beginning to beat much +faster than usual at the thought of facing Mrs. Whelan in her den. + +"Isn't you frightened, Light Smiley?" asked the little girl when the two +stopped, and Peggy knew by this that they must be at the old woman's +door. + +"Oh no," Sarah replied. "Tisn't as if we'd been up to any mischief, you +see. And Lizzie's there. She's mostly quiet when Lizzie's there." + +So saying she pushed the door open. It had a bell inside, which +forthwith began to tinkle loudly, and made Peggy start. This bell was +the pride of Mrs. Whelan's heart; it made such a distinction, she +thought, between her and the rest of the tenants of the house, and the +more noisily it rang the better pleased she was. Sarah knew this, and +gave the door a good shove, at the same time pulling Peggy into the +room. + +"What's it yer afther now, and what's become of Matilda-Jane?" called +out the old woman, not, at the first moment, catching sight of Peggy. + +"It's little missy from over-the-way," Sarah hastened to explain; +"she's come to buy some pipes of you, Mother Whelan." + +[Illustration: "To be sure," she said in her most gracious tone. "'Tis +the beautiful pipes I have. And 'tis proud I am to say the purty young +lady," and on she went with a long flattering speech about Peggy's +likeness to her "swate mother," and inquiries after the lady's health, +all the time she was reaching down from a high shelf an old broken +cardboard box, containing her stock of clay pipes. + +P. 138.] + +Mrs. Whelan looked at Peggy where she stood behind Sarah, gravely +staring about her. + +"To be sure," she said in her most gracious tone. "'Tis the beautiful +pipes I have. And 'tis proud I am to say the purty young lady," and on +she went with a long flattering speech about Peggy's likeness to her +"swate mother," and inquiries after the lady's health, all the time she +was reaching down from a high shelf an old broken cardboard box, +containing her stock of clay pipes. + +Peggy did not answer. In the first place, thanks to the old woman's +Irish accent and queer way of speaking she did not understand a quarter +of what she said. Then her eyes were busy gazing all about, and her nose +was even less pleasantly occupied, for there was a very strong smell in +the room. It was a sort of mixed smell of everything--not like the +curious "everything" smell that one knows so well in a village shop in +the country, which for my part I think rather nice--a smell of tea, and +coffee, and bacon, and nuts, and soap, and matting, and brown holland, +and spices, and dried herbs, all mixed together, but with a clean +feeling about it--no, the smell in Mrs. Whelan's was much stuffier +and snuffier. For joined to the odour of all the things I have named was +that of herrings and tobacco smoke, and, I rather fear, of whisky. And +besides all this, I am very much afraid that not only a spring cleaning +but a summer or autumn or winter cleaning, were unknown events in the +old woman's room. No wonder that Peggy, fresh from the soft-soap-and-water +smell of the Simpkins's upstairs, sniffed uneasily and wished Mrs. +Whelan would be quick with the pipes; her head felt so queer and +confused. + +But looking round she caught sight of a very interesting object; this +was Lizzie, rocking herself gently on her chair in a corner, and seeming +quite at home. Peggy ran--no she couldn't run--the room was so crowded, +for a counter stood across one end, and in the other a big square old +bedstead, and between the two were a table and one or two chairs, and an +old tumble-down chest of drawers--made her way over to Lizzie. + +"How do you do, Crip--Lizzie, I mean? I hope your pains aren't very bad +to-day?" + +"Not so very, thank you, miss," said the poor girl. "It's nice and quiet +in here, and the quiet does me a deal o' good." + +Peggy sighed. + +"I don't like being very quiet," she said. "I wish you could come over +to the nursery; now that Hal and baby and nurse are away it's dreffully +quiet." + +"But you wouldn't care to change places with me, would you, missy?" said +Lizzie. "I'm thinking you'd have noise enough if you were upstairs +sometimes. My--it do go through one's head, to be sure." + +Peggy looked very sympathising. + +"Aren't you frightened of _her_?" she whispered, nodding gently towards +Mrs. Whelan. + +"Not a bit of it," said Lizzie, also lowering her voice; "she's right +down good to me, is the old body. She do scold now and then and no +mistake, but bless you, she'd never lay a finger on me, and it's no +wonder she's in a taking with the children when they kicks up a hextra +row, so to say." + +Peggy's mouth had opened gradually during this speech, and now it +remained so. She could not understand half Lizzie's words, but she had +no time to ask for an explanation, for just then Light Smiley called to +her to come and look at the pipes which were by this time waiting for +her on the counter. + +They were the cleanest things in the room--the only clean things it +seemed to Peggy as she lifted them up one by one to choose six very nice +ones. And then she paid her pennies and ran back to shake hands with +Lizzie and say good-bye to her--she wondered if she should shake hands +with Mrs. Whelan too, but fortunately the old woman did not seem to +expect it, and Peggy felt very thankful, for her brown wrinkled hands +looked sadly dirty to the little girl, dirtier perhaps than they really +were. + +"I like your house much better than hers," said Peggy, when she and +Light Smiley were down at the bottom of the stairs again; "it smells +much nicer." + +"Mother and Rebecca's all for scrubbing, that's certing," replied Sarah, +with a smile of pleasure--of course all little girls like to hear their +homes praised--"but she's not bad to Lizzie, is old Whelan," as if that +settled the whole question, and Peggy felt she must not say any more +about the dirty room. + +Light Smiley felt it her duty to see "missy" safe across the street. +Peggy's hands were laden with the precious pipes, and Sarah carried the +big umbrella over the two of them. They chattered as they picked their +way through the mud and stood for a minute or two at the yard-door of +Peggy's house. Light Smiley peeped in. + +"Lor'," she said, expressing her feelings in the same way as her +sisters, "yours must be a fine house, missy. All that there back-yard +for yerselves." + +"You should see the droind-room, and mamma's room; there's a marble top +to the washing-stand," said Peggy, with pride. + +"Lor'," said Sarah again. + +"Some day," Peggy went on, excited by Sarah's admiration, "_some_ day +when my mamma comes home, I'm going to ask her to let me have a +tea-party of you _all_--in the nursery, you know. The nursery's nice +too, at least I daresay you'd like it." + +"Is that the winder where you sees us from?" asked Sarah. "Matilda-Jane +says as how we could see you too quite plain at it if you put your face +quite close to the glass." + +"I can't," said Peggy. "There's the toilet-table close to the window--at +least, it's really a chest of drawers, you know, but there's a +looking-glass on the top and a white cover, so it's like a toilet-table +for nurse, though it's too high up for me. I have to stand on a chair if +I want to see myself popperly." + +"Dear!" said Sarah sympathisingly. + +"And I can only see you by scrooging into the corner, and the curting's +there. No, you couldn't ever see me well up at the window. But that's +not the nursery where we'd have tea. That's only the night nursery. The +other one's to the front; that's the window where you can see the hills +far away." + +"In the country, where father used to live. Oh yes, I know. I heerd +Matilda-Jane a-asking 'im about it," said Sarah. + +"Oh, and did he tell you any more? Do ask him if it's really not far to +get there," said Peggy, eagerly. + +Sarah nodded. + +"I won't forget," she said; "and then, missy, when you axes us to the +tea-party, I'll be able to tell you all about it." + +She did not mean to be cunning, poor little girl, but she was rather +afraid Peggy might forget about the tea-party, and she thought it was +not a bad plan to say something which might help to make her remember +it. + +"Yes," Peggy replied, "that would be lovely. Do make him tell all you +can, Light Smiley. Oh, I do wish mamma would come home now, and I'd ask +her about the tea-party immediately. I'm sure she'd let me, for she +likes us to be kind to poor people." + +Sarah drew herself up a little at this. + +"We're not--not to say _poor_ folk," she said, with some dignity. +"There's a many of us, and it's hard enough work, but still----" + +"Oh, don't be vexed," said Peggy. "I know you're not like--like beggars, +you know. And I think _we're_ rather poor too. Mamma often says papa has +to work hard." + +Sarah grew quite friendly again. + +"I take it folks isn't often rich when they've a lot of children," she +began, but the sound of a window opening across the street made her +start. "Bless me," she said, "I must run. There's Rebecca a-going to +scold me for standing talking. Good-bye, miss, I'll not forget to ask +father." + +And Sarah darted away, carrying with her the umbrella, quite forgetting +that it was Peggy's. Peggy forgot it too, and it was not raining so fast +now, so there was less to remind her. She shut the door and ran across +the yard. The house door still stood open, and she made her way up to +the nursery without meeting any one. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +"SOAP-BUBBLING" + + "And every colour see I there." + _The Rainbow_, CHARLES LAMB. + + +THERE was no one upstairs. Miss Earnshaw had gone down to the kitchen to +iron the seams of her work, without giving special thought to Peggy. If +any one had asked her where the child was she would have probably +answered that she was counting over her money in the night nursery. So +she was rather surprised when coming upstairs again in a few minutes she +was met by Peggy flying to meet her with the pipes in her hand. + +"I've got them, Miss Earnshaw; aren't they beauties?" she cried. "And I +don't think my frock's reely spoilt? It only just looks a _little_ funny +where the mud was." + +"Bless me!" exclaimed the young dressmaker, "wherever have you been, +Miss Peggy? No, your frock'll brush all right; but you don't mean to say +you've been out in the rain? You should have asked me, my dear." + +She spoke rather reproachfully; she was a little vexed with herself for +not having looked after the child better, but Peggy was one of those +quiet "old-fashioned" children, who never seem to need looking after. + +"I did ask you," said Peggy, opening wide her eyes, "and you said, 'Very +well, my dear.'" + +Miss Earnshaw couldn't help smiling. + +"I must have been thinking more of your new frock than of yourself," she +said. "However, I hope it's done you no harm. Your stockings aren't +wet?" + +"Oh no," said Peggy; "my slippers were a weeny bit wet, so I've changed +them. My frock wouldn't have been dirtied, only I felled in the wet, +Miss Earnshaw, but Brown--one of the little girls, you know, that lives +in the house where the shop is--picked me up, and there's no harm done, +is there? And I've got the pipes, and won't my brothers be peleased," +she chirruped on in her soft, cheery way. + +Miss Earnshaw could not blame her, though she determined to be more on +the look-out for the future. And soon after came twelve o'clock, and +then the young dressmaker was obliged to go, bidding Peggy "Good-bye +till Monday morning." + +The boys came home wet and hungry, and grumbling a good deal at the +rainy half-holiday. Peggy had hidden the six pipes in her little bed, +but after dinner she made the three boys shut their eyes while she +fetched them out and laid them in a row on the table. Then, "You may +look now," she said; "it's my apprise," and she stood at one side to +enjoy the sight of their pleasure. + +"Hurrah," cried Terry, "pipes for soap-bubbles! Isn't it jolly? Isn't +Peggy a brick?" + +"Dear Peggy," said Baldwin, holding up his plump face for a kiss. + +"Poor old Peg-top," said Thor, patronisingly. "They seem very good +pipes; and as there's six of them, you and I can break one a-piece if we +like, Terry, without its mattering." + +Peggy looked rather anxious at this. + +"Don't try to break them, Thor, pelease," she said; "for if you beginned +breaking it might go on, and then it would be all spoilt like the last +time, for there's no fun in soap-bubbling by turns." + +"No, that's quite true," said Terry. "You remember the last time how +stupid it was. But of course we won't break any, 'specially as they're +yours, Peggy. We'll try and keep them good for another time." + +"Did you spend all your pennies for them?" asked Baldwin, +sympathisingly. + +"Not quite all," said Peggy. "I choosed them myself," she went on, +importantly. "There was a lot in a box." + +"Why, where did you get them? You didn't go yourself to old Whelan's, +surely?" asked Thor, sharply. + +"Yes, I runned across the road," said Peggy. "You always get them there, +Thor." + +"But it's quite different. I can tell you mamma won't be very pleased +when she comes home to hear you've been so disobedient." + +Poor Peggy's face, so bright and happy, clouded over, and she seemed on +the point of bursting into tears. + +"I weren't disobedient," she began. "Miss Earnshaw said, 'Very well, +dear,' and so I thought----" + +[Illustration: "They were soon all four very happy at the pretty play. +The prettiness of it was what Peggy most enjoyed the most; the boys, +boy-like, thought little but of who could blow the biggest bubbles, +which, as everybody knows, are seldom as rich in colour as smaller +ones." + +P. 149] + +"Of course," interrupted Terry; "Peggy's never disobedient, Thor. We'll +ask mamma when she comes home; but she won't be vexed with you, +darling. You won't need to go again before then." + +"No," said Peggy, comforted, "I don't want to go again, Terry dear. It +doesn't smell very nice in the shop. But the _children's_ house is very +clean, Terry. I'm sure mamma would let us go _there_." + +"Those Simpkinses over old Whelan's," said Terry. "Oh yes, I know mother +goes there herself sometimes, though as for that she goes to old +Whelan's too. But we're wasting time; let's ask Fanny for a tin basin +and lots of soap." + +They were soon all four very happy at the pretty play. The prettiness of +it was what Peggy enjoyed the most; the boys, boy-like, thought little +but of who could blow the biggest bubbles, which, as everybody knows, +are seldom as rich in colour as smaller ones. + +"I like the rainbowiest ones best," said Peggy. "I don't care for those +'normous ones Thor makes. Do you, Baldwin?" + +Baldwin stopped to consider. + +"I suppose very big things aren't never so pretty as littler things," he +said at last, when a sort of grunt from Terry interrupted him. Terry +could not speak, his cheeks were all puffed out round the pipe, and he +dared not stop blowing. He could only grunt and nod his head sharply to +catch their attention to the wonderful triumph in soap-bubbles floating +before his nose. There was a big one, as big as any of Thorold's, and up +on the top of it a lovely every-coloured wee one, the most brilliant the +children had ever seen--a real rainbow ball. + +They all clapped their hands, at least Peggy and Baldwin did so. Thorold +shouted, "Hurrah for Terry's new invention. It's like a monkey riding on +an elephant." But Peggy did not think that was a pretty idea. + +"It's more like one of the very little stars sitting on the sun's knee," +was her comparison, which Baldwin corrected to the moon--the sun was too +yellow, he said, to be like a no-colour bubble. + +Then they all set to work to try to make double-bubbles, and Thor +actually managed to make three, one on the top of the other. And Terry +made a very big one run ever so far along the carpet without breaking, +bobbing and dancing along as he blew it ever so gently. + +And as a finish-up they all four put their pipes into the basin and blew +together, making what they called "bubble-pudding," till the pudding +seemed to get angry and gurgled and wobbled itself up so high that it +ended by toppling over, and coming to an untimely end as a little spot +of soapy water on the table. + +"Pride must have a fall, you see," said Thor. + +"It's like the story of the frog that tried to be as big as an ox," said +Terence, at which they all laughed as a very good joke. + +Altogether Peggy's pipes turned out a great success, and the rainy +afternoon passed very happily. + +The Sunday that came after that Saturday was showery, sunny, and rainy +by turns, like a child who having had a great fit of crying and sobbing +can't get over it all at once, and keeps breaking into little bursts of +tears again, long after the sorrow is all over. But by Monday morning +the world--Peggy's world, that is to say--seemed to have quite recovered +its spirits. The sun came out smiling with pleasure, and even the town +birds, who know so little about trees, and grass, and flowers, and all +those delightful things, hopped about and chirruped as nicely as could +be. The boys set off to school in good spirits, and while Fanny was +taking down the breakfast-things Peggy got out the little red shoes, and +set them on the window-sill, where they had not been for several days. + +"There, dear little red shoes," she said, softly, "you may look out +again at the pretty sun and the sky, and the fairy cottage up on the +mounting. You can see it quite plain to-day, dear little shoes. The +clouds is all gone away, and it's shinin' out all white and beautiful, +and I daresay the mamma's standin' at the door with the baby--or +p'raps," Peggy was never very partial to the baby, "it's asleep in its +cradle. Yes, I think that's it. And the hens and cocks and chickens is +all pecking about, and the cows moo'in. Oh, _how_ I do wish we could go +and see them all, don't you, dear little shoes?" + +She stood gazing up at the tiny white speck, to other eyes almost +invisible, as if by much gazing it would grow nearer and clearer to her; +there was a smile on her little face, sweet visions floated before +Peggy's mind of a day, "some day," when mamma should take her out "to +the country," to see for herself the lovely and delightful sights that +same dear mamma had described. + +Suddenly Fanny's voice brought her back to present things. Fanny was +looking rather troubled. + +"Miss Peggy, love," she said, "cook and I can't think what's making Miss +Earnshaw so late this morning. She's always so sharp to her time. I +don't like leaving you alone, but I don't know what else to do. Monday's +the orkardest day, for we're always so busy downstairs, and your papa +was just saying this morning that I was to tell Miss Earnshaw to take +you a nice long walk towards the country, seeing as it's so fine a day. +It will be right down tiresome, it will, if she don't come." + +"Never mind, Fanny," said Peggy. "I don't mind much being alone, and I +daresay Miss Earnshaw will come. I _should_ like to go a nice walk +to-day," she could not help adding, with a longing glance out at the +sunny sky. + +"To be sure you would," said Fanny, "and it stands to reason as you +won't be well if you don't get no fresh air. I hope to goodness the girl +will come, but I doubt it--her mother's ill maybe, and she's no one to +send. Well, dear, you'll try and amuse yourself, and I'll get on +downstairs as fast as I can." + +Peggy went back to the window and stood there for a minute or two, +feeling rather sad. It did seem hard that things should go so very +"contrarily" sometimes. + +"Just when it's such a fine day," she thought, "Miss Earnshaw doesn't +come. And on Saturday when we _couldn't_ have goned a walk she did +come. Only on Saturday it did rain very badly in the afternoon and she +didn't stay, so that wasn't a pity." + +Then her thoughts went wandering off to what the dressmaker had told her +of having to go a long way out into the country on Saturday afternoon, +and of how wet and muddy the lanes would be. Peggy sighed; she +_couldn't_ believe country lanes could ever be anything but delightful. + +"Oh how _very_ pretty they must be to-day," she said to herself, "with +all the little flowers coming peeping out, and the birds singing, and +the cocks and hens, and the cows, and--and----" she was becoming a +little confused. Indeed she wasn't _quite_ sure what a "lane" really +meant--she knew it was some kind of a way to walk along, but she had +heard the word "path" too,--were "lane" and "path" quite the same? she +wondered. And while she was wondering and gazing out of the window, she +was startled all of a sudden by a soft, faint tap at the door. So soft +and faint that if it had been at the window instead of at the door it +might have been taken for the flap of a sparrow's wing as it flew past. +Peggy stood quite still and listened; she heard nothing more, and was +beginning to think it must have been her fancy, when again it came, and +this time rather more loudly. "Tap, tap." Yes, "certingly," thought +Peggy, "there's somebody there." + +She felt a little, a _very_ little frightened. + +Should she go to the door and peep out, or should she call "Come in"? +she asked herself. And one or two of the "ogre" stories that Thorold and +Terry were so fond of in their "Grimm's Tales," _would_ keep coming into +her head--stories of little princesses shut up alone, or of giants +prowling about to find a nice tender child for supper. Peggy shivered. +But after all what was the use of standing there fancying things? It was +broad, sunny daylight--not at all the time for ogres or such-like to be +abroad. Peggy began to laugh at her own silliness. + +"Very likely," she thought, "it's Miss Earnshaw playing me a trick to +'apprise me, 'cos she's so late this morning." + +This idea quite took away her fear. + +"It's you, Miss Earnshaw, I'm quite sure it's you," she called out; +"come in quick, you funny Miss Earnshaw. Come in." + +But though the door slowly opened, no Miss Earnshaw appeared. Peggy +began to think this was carrying fun too far. + +"Why don't you come in quick?" she said, her voice beginning to tremble +a little. + +The door opened a little farther. + +"Missy," said a low voice, a childish hesitating voice, quite different +from Miss Earnshaw's quick bright way of speaking, "Missy, please, it's +me, Sarah, please, miss." + +And the door opened more widely, and in came, slowly and timidly still, +a small figure well known to Peggy. It was none other than Light Smiley. + +Peggy could hardly speak. She was so very much astonished. + +"Light Smiley--Sarah, I mean," she exclaimed, "how did you come? Did you +see Fanny? Did she tell you to come upstairs?" + +Sarah shook her head. + +"I don't know who Fanny is, missy. I just comed in of myself. The doors +was both open, and I didn't meet nobody. I didn't like for to ring or +knock. I thought mebbe your folk'd scold if I did--a gel like me. Mother +knows I've comed; she said as how I'd better bring it myself." + +And she held up what Peggy had not noticed that she was carrying--the +big umbrella that had caused so much trouble two days before. + +"The numbrella," cried Peggy. "Oh thank you, Sarah, for bringing it +back. I never thought of it! How stupid it was of me." + +"Mother told me for to bring it to the door and give it in," Sarah went +on. "I didn't mean to come upstairs, but, the door was open, you see, +miss, and I knowed your nussery was at the top, and--I 'ope it's not a +liberty." + +"No, no," said Peggy, her hospitable feelings awaking to see that her +little visitor was still standing timidly in the doorway, "I'm _very_ +glad you've comed. You don't know how glad I am. It's so lonely all by +myself--Miss Earnshaw hasn't come this morning. Come in, Light Smiley, +do come in. Oh how nice! I can show you the mountings and the little +white cottage shining in the sun." + +She drew Sarah forwards. But before the child looked out of the window, +her eyes were caught by the tiny red slippers on the sill. + +"Lor'," she said breathlessly, "what splendid shoes! Are they for--for +your dolly, missy? They're too small for a baby, bain't they?" + +"Oh yes," said Peggy, "they're too small for our baby, a great deal. But +then he's very fat." + +"They'd be too small for ours too, though she's not a hextra fine child +for her age. She were a very poor specimint for a good bit, mother says, +but she's pickin' up now she's got some teeth through. My--but them +shoes is neat, to be sure! They must be for a dolly." + +"_I've_ no doll they'd do for," said Peggy, "but I like them just for +theirselves. _I_ always put them to stand there on a fine day; they like +to look out of the window." + +Sarah stared at Peggy as if she thought she was rather out of her +mind!--indeed the children at the back had hinted to each other that +missy, for all she was a real little lady, was very funny-like +sometimes. But Peggy was quite unconscious of it. + +"Lor'," said Sarah at last, "how can shoes see, they've no eyes, missy?" + +"But you can _fancy_ they have. Don't you ever play in your mind at +fancying?" asked Peggy. "I think it's the nicest part of being alive, +and mamma says it's no harm if we keep remembering it's not real. But +never mind about that--do look at the hills, Sarah, and oh, _can_ you +see the white speck shining in the sun? _That's_ the cottage--I call it +my cottage, but _p'raps_," rather unwillingly, "it's the one your papa +lived in when he was little." + +"D'ye really think so?" said Sarah, eagerly. "It's Brackenshire over +there to be sure, and father's 'ome was up an 'ill--deary me, to think +as it might be the very place. See it--to be sure I do, as plain as +plain. It do seem a good bit off, but father he says it's no more'n a +tidy walk. He's almost promised he'll take some on us there some fine +day when he's an 'oliday. I axed 'im all I could think of--missy--all +about the cocks and 'ens and cows and pigses." + +"Not pigs," interrupted Peggy. "I don't like pigs, and I won't have them +in my cottage." + +"I wasn't a-talking of your cottage," said Sarah, humbly. "'Twas what +father told us of all the things he seed in the country when he were a +boy there. There's lots of pigses in Brackenshire." + +"Never mind. We won't have any," persisted Peggy. "But oh, Light Smiley, +do look how splendid the sky is--all blue and all so shiny. I never +sawed such a lovely day. I would so like to go a walk." + +"And why shouldn't you?" asked Sarah. + +"There's no one to take me," sighed Peggy. "It's Monday, and Fanny's +very busy on Mondays, and I told you that tiresome Miss Earnshaw's not +comed." + +Sarah considered a little. + +"Tell you what, missy," she said, "why shouldn't we--you and me--go a +walk? I'm sure mother'd let me. I've got my 'at, all 'andy, and I did +say to mother if so as missy seed me I might stop a bit, and she were +quite agreeable. I'm a deal older nor you, and I can take care of you +nicely. Mother's training me for the nussery." + +Peggy started up in delight. She had been half sitting on the +window-sill, beside the shoes. + +"Oh, Light Smiley," she said, "how lovely! Of course you could take care +of me. We'd go up Fernley Road, straight up--that's the way to +Brackenshire, you know, and p'raps we might go far enough to see the +white cottage plainer. If it's not a very long way to get there, we'd be +sure to see it much plainer if we walked a mile or two. A mile isn't +very far. Oh, do let's go--quick! quick!" + +But Sarah stopped her. + +"You'd best tell your folks first, missy," she said. "They'll let you go +and be glad of it, I should say, if they're so busy, and seein' as they +let you come over to our 'ouse, and your mar knowin' us and all." + +"It was Miss Earnshaw that let me go," said Peggy, "and then she said +she didn't know I'd goned. And Thor said--oh no, he only said I +shouldn't have goned to the shop. But I'll ask Fanny--I'll tell you what +I'll do. I'll put on my boots and my hat and jacket--you shall help me, +Sarah, and then we'll go down and I'll call to Fanny from the top of the +kitchen stairs and ask her if I may go out with you, Sarah, dear. I'm +sure she'll say I may." + +So the two little maidens went into the night nursery, where Light +Smiley was greatly interested in looking at her own dwelling-place from +other people's windows, and quite in her element too, seeing that she +was being trained for the nursery, in getting out Peggy's walking +things, buttoning her boots, and all the rest of it. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +UP FERNLEY ROAD + + "But the way is long and toilsome, + And the road is drear and hard; + Little heads and hearts are aching, + Little feet with thorns are scarred." + _The Children's Journey._ + + +LIGHT SMILEY kept looking round the room with great satisfaction. + +"It is nice in 'ere and no mistake," she said at last. "Your 'ats and +coats and frocks all in a row, as neat as neat, and these little white +beds a sight to be seen. I should love for Rebecca and Matilda-Jane to +see it." + +"They will," said Peggy, "when I avite you all to a tea-party, you +know." + +Sarah drew a deep breath. A tea-party in these beautiful nurseries +seemed almost too good ever to come true. + +"Is there a many nusseries as nice as this 'un, do you think, missy? I +do 'ope as I'll get into a nice one when I'm big enough. One 'ud take a +pride in keeping it clean and tidy." + +"I don't think this is at all a _grand_ one," Peggy replied. "Mamma's +was much grander when she was little, I know. But, of course, she's very +pertickler, and so's nurse, about it being very tidy." + +And then, Peggy being ready, the quaint pair of friends took each +other's hands and set off to the top of the kitchen stairs. + +"Should we take the humberellar?" said Sarah, suddenly stopping at the +foot of the first little flight of stairs. "I don't think it looks any +ways like rain, still one never knows, and I can carry it easy." + +In her heart she hoped Peggy would say yes. For to Sarah's eyes the +clumsy umbrella was a very "genteel" one indeed, and she felt as if it +would add distinction to their appearance. + +Peggy, not looking at it from this point of view, hesitated. + +"P'raps it would do to keep the sun off us," she said. "My parasol's +wored out, so I can't take it. Mamma's going to get me a new one." + +Sarah ran back and fetched the umbrella. + +When they got to the door at the top of the kitchen stairs, Peggy opened +it and called down softly, "Fanny, are you there? Can you hear me?" for +she was not allowed to go down to the kitchen by herself. + +But no one answered. Fanny was busy washing in the back kitchen with +both doors shut to keep in the steam, and the cook had gone out to the +butcher's. + +"Fanny," called Peggy again. + +Then a voice came at last in return. + +"Is it anything I can tell the cook when she comes in, please, miss?" +and a boy came forward out of the kitchen and stood at the foot of the +steep stone stairs. "I'm the baker's boy, and I met cook and she told me +to wait; she'd be back with change to pay the book in a minute. There's +no one here." + +Peggy turned to Sarah in distress. + +"Fanny must be out too," she said. + +"Well, it'll be all right if the boy 'ull tell her, won't it, missy? +'Tisn't the cook," she went on, speaking to the boy herself, "'tis +t'other one. Jest you tell her when she comes in that miss has gone out +a little walk with me--Sarah Simpkins--she'll know. I'll take good care +of missy." + +"All right," said the boy, with no doubt that so it was, and thinking, +if he thought at all, that Sarah Simpkins must be a little nurse-girl, +or something of the kind about the house, though certainly a small +specimen to be in service! He whistled as he turned away, and something +in the cheerful sound of his whistle helped to satisfy Peggy that all +_was_ right! + +"He's a nice boy," she said to Sarah. "He won't forget, will he?" + +"Not he," Sarah replied. "He'll tell 'em fast enough. And as like as not +we'll meet 'em along the street as we go. Is Webb's your butcher, +missy--'tis just at the corner of Fernley Road?" + +Peggy shook her head. + +"I don't know," she said, feeling rather ashamed of her ignorance; "but +I'd like to meet Fanny, so, pelease, let us go that way." + +And off the two set, by the front door this time, quite easy in their +minds though, as far as they knew, the baker's boy was the only guardian +of the house. + +They trotted down the street in the sunshine; it was very bright and +fine--the air, even there in the smoky town, felt this morning +deliciously fresh and spring-like. + +"How nice it is," said Peggy, drawing a deep breath; "it's just like +summer. I'd like to go a quite long walk, wouldn't you, Sarah?" + +Light Smiley looked about her approvingly. + +"Yes," she said, "I does enjoy a real fine day. And in the country it +must be right-down fust-rate." + +"Oh, the country!" said Peggy; "oh dear, how I do wish we could go as +far as the country!" + +"Well," said Sarah, "if we walk fast we might come within sight of it. +There's nice trees and gardings up Fernley Road, and that's a sort of +country, isn't it, missy?" + +They were at the corner of the road by this time, but there was no sign +of Fanny or cook. "Webb's" shop stood a little way down the other side, +but as far as they could see it was empty. + +"P'raps your folk don't deal there," said Sarah, to which Peggy had +nothing to say, and they stood looking about them in an uncertain kind +of way. + +"We may as well go on a bit," said Sarah at last, "that there boy's sure +to tell." + +Peggy had no objection, and they set off along Fernley Road at a pretty +brisk pace. + +They had not very far to go before, as Sarah said, the road grew less +town-like; the houses had little gardens round them, some of which were +prettily kept, and after a while they came to a field or two, not yet +built upon, though great placards stuck up on posts told that they were +waiting to be sold for that purpose. They were very towny sort of fields +certainly, still the bright spring sunshine made the best of them as of +everything else this morning, and the two children looked at them with +pleasure. + +"There's nicer fields still, a bit farther on," said Sarah. "I've been +along this 'ere road several times. It goes on and on right into the +country." + +"I know," said Peggy, "it goes on into the country of the mountings. +But, Sarah," she said, stopping short, and looking rather distressed, "I +don't think we see them any plainer than from the nursery window, and +the white cottage doesn't look even as plain. Are you sure we're going +the right way?" + +"We couldn't go wrong," answered Sarah, "there's no other way. But we've +come no distance yet, missy, and you see there's ups and downs in the +road that comes between us and the 'ills somehow. I suppose at the +window we could see straight-forward-like, and then we was 'igher up." + +"Yes, that must be it," said Peggy; "but I would like to go far enough +to see a _little_ plainer, Sarah, wouldn't you? I've got the red shoes +in my pocket, you know, and when we come to a place where we can see +very nice and clear I'll take them out and let them see too." + +"Lor'," said Sarah, "you _are_ funny, missy." + +But she smiled so good-naturedly that Peggy did not mind. + +After a bit they came to a place where another road crossed the one they +were on. This other road was planted with trees along one side, and the +shade they cast looked cool and tempting. + +"I wish we could go along that way," said Peggy, "but it would be the +wrong way. It doesn't go on to the mountings." + +Sarah did not answer for a minute. She was trying to spell out some +letters that were painted up on the corner of a wall, which enclosed the +garden of a house standing in the road they were looking down. + +"'B, R, A,'" she began, "'B, R, A, C, K:' it's it, just look, missy. +Bain't that Brackenshire as large as life? 'Brackenshire Road.' It must +be this way," and she looked quite delighted. + +"But how can it be?" objected Peggy. "This road _doesn't_ go to the +hills, Sarah. They're straight in front." + +"But maybe it slopes round again after a bit," said Sarah. "Lots of +roads does that way, and runs the same way really, though you wouldn't +think so at the start. It stands to reason, when it's got the name +painted up, it must lead Brackenshire way;" and then suddenly, as a man +with a basket on his arm appeared coming out of one of the houses, she +darted up to him. + +"Please, mister, does this road lead to Brackenshire?" she asked. + +The man did not look very good-natured. + +"Lead to where?" he said, gruffly. + +"To Brackenshire--it's painted up on the wall, but we want to be sure." + +"If it's painted up on the wall, what's the sense of askin' me?" he +said. "If you go far enough no doubt you'll get there. There's more'n +one road to Brackenshire." + +Sarah was quite satisfied. + +"You see," she said to Peggy, running back to her, "it's all right. If +we go along this 'ere road a bit, I 'specs it'll turn again and then +we'll see the 'ills straight in front." + +Peggy had no objection. Fernley Road was bare and glaring just about +there, and the trees were very tempting. + +"It's really getting like the country," said Peggy, as they passed +several pretty gardens, larger and much prettier than the small ones in +Fernley Road. + +"Yes," Light Smiley agreed, "but though gardings is nice, I don't hold +with gardings anything like as much as fields. Fields _is_ splendid +where you can race about and jump and do just as you like, and no fears +of breakin' flowers or nothink." + +"Do you think we shall come to fields like that soon?" said Peggy. "If +there was a very nice one we might go into it p'raps and rest a little, +and look at the mountings. I wish we could begin to see the mountings +again, Sarah, it seems quite strange without them, and I'm getting +rather tired of looking at gardens when we can't go inside them, aren't +you?" + +Sarah was feeling very contented and happy. She was, though a little +body for her age, much stronger than Peggy, as well as two years older, +and she looked at her companion with surprise when she began already to +talk of "resting." + +"Lor', missy, you bain't tired already," she was beginning, when she +suddenly caught sight of something which made her interrupt herself. +This was another road crossing the one they were on at right angles, and +running therefore in the same direction as Fernley Road again. "'Ere's +our way," she cried, "now didn't I tell you so? And this way goes +slopin' up a bit, you see. When we get to the top we'll see the 'ills +straight 'afore us, and 'ave a beeyutiful view." + +Peggy's rather flagging steps grew brisker at this, and the two ran +gaily along the new road for a little way. But running uphill is tiring, +and it seemed to take them a long time to get to the top of the slope, +and when they did so, it was only to be disappointed. Neither mountains +nor hills nor white cottage were to be seen, only before them a rather +narrow sort of lane, sloping downwards now and seeming to lead into some +rather rough waste ground, where it ended. Peggy's face grew rather +doleful, but Sarah was quite equal to the occasion. A little down the +hill she spied a stile, over which she persuaded Peggy to climb. They +found themselves in a potato field, but a potato field with a path down +the middle; it was a large field and at the other end of the path was a +gate, opening on to a cart track scarcely worthy the name of a lane. +The children followed it, however, till another stile tempted them +again, this time into a little wood, where they got rather torn and +scratched by brambles and nettles as they could not easily find a path, +and Sarah fancied by forcing their way through the bushes they would be +sure to come out on to the road again. + +It was not, however, till they had wandered backwards among the trees +and brambles for some time that they got on to a real path, and they had +to walk a good way along this till they at last came on another gate, +this time sure enough opening into the high road. + +Sarah's spirits recovered at once. + +"'Ere we are," she said cheerfully, "all right. 'Ere's Fernley Road +again. Nothink to do but to turn round and go 'ome if you're tired, +missy. _I'm_ not tired, but if you'd rayther go no farther----" + +Peggy did not answer for a moment; she was staring about her on all +sides. The prospect was not a very inviting one; the road was bare and +ugly, dreadfully dusty, and there was no shade anywhere, and at a little +distance some great tall chimneys were to be seen, the chimneys of some +iron-works, from which smoke poured forth. There were a good many +little houses near the tall chimneys, they were the houses of the people +who worked there, but they were not sweet little cottages such as Peggy +dreamed of. Indeed they looked more like a very small ugly town, than +like rows of cottages on a country road. + +"This isn't a pretty road at all," said Peggy at last, rather crossly I +am afraid, "it is very nugly, and you shouldn't have brought me here, +Sarah. I can't see the mountings; they is quite goned away, more goned +away than when it rains, for then they're only behind the clouds. This +isn't Fernley Road, Light Smiley. I do believe you've losted us, and +Peggy's so tired, and very, very un'appy." + +It was Peggy's way when she grew low-spirited to speak more babyishly +than usual; at such times it was too much trouble to think about being a +big girl. Poor Sarah looked dreadfully distressed. + +"Oh, missy dear, don't cry," she said. "If it bain't Fernley Road, it's +_a_ road any way, and there's no call to be frightened. We can ax our +way, but I'd rayther not ax it at the cottages, for they might think I +was a tramp that'd stoled you away." + +"And what would they do then?" asked Peggy, leaving off crying for a +minute. + +"They'd 'av me up mebbe, and put us in the lock-ups." + +"What's that?" + +"The place where the pl'ice leaves folk as they isn't sure about." + +"Prison, do you mean?" said Peggy, growing very pale. + +"Well, not ezackly, but somethin' like." + +Peggy caught hold of Sarah in sudden terror. + +"Oh come along, Light Smiley, quick, quick. Let's get back into the +fields and hide or anything. Oh come quick, for fear they should catch +us." And she tugged at Sarah, trying to drag her along the road. + +"Stop, missy, don't take on so; there's no need. We'll just go along +quietly and no one'll notice us, only you stop crying, and then no +one'll think any 'arm. We'll not go back the way we came, it's so +drefful thorny, but we'll look out for another road or a path. I 'spects +you're right enough--this 'ere bain't Fernley Road." + +Peggy swallowed down her sobs. + +"I don't think you look quite big enough to have stolened me, Sarah," +she said at last. "But I would like to get back into the fields quick. +If only we could see the mountings again, I wouldn't be quite so +frightened." + +They had not gone far before they came upon a gateway and a path leading +through a field where there seemed no difficulties. Crossing it they +found themselves at the edge of the thorny wood, which they skirted for +some way. Peggy's energy, born of fear, began to fail. + +"Sarah," she said at last, bursting into fresh tears, "Peggy can't go no +farther, and I'm so hungry too. I'm sure it's long past dinner-time. You +must sit down and rest; p'raps if I rested a little, I wouldn't feel so +very un'appy." + +Sarah looked at her almost in despair. She herself was worried and +vexed, very afraid too of the scolding which certainly awaited her at +home, but she was not tired nor dispirited, though very sorry for Peggy, +and quite aware that it was she and not "missy" who was to blame for +this unlucky expedition. + +"I'd like to get on," she said, "we're sure to get back into a road +as'll take us 'ome before long. Couldn't I carry you, missy?" + +"No," said Peggy, "you're far too little. And I can't walk any more +without resting. You're very unkind, Light Smiley, and I wish I'd never +seen you." + +Poor Sarah bore this bitter reproach in silence. + +She looked about for a comfortable seat in the hedge, and settled +herself so that Peggy could rest against her. The sunshine, though it +had seemed hot and glaring on the bare dusty road was not really very +powerful, for it was only late April, though a very summerlike day. +Peggy left off crying and said no more, but leant contentedly enough +against Sarah. + +"I'm comf'able now," she said, closing her eyes. "Thank you, Light +Smiley. I'll soon be rested, and then we'll go on." + +But in a moment or two, by the way she breathed, Sarah saw that she had +fallen asleep. + +[Illustration: "And at last, though she was really so anxious and +distressed, the quiet and the milder air, and the idleness perhaps, to +which none of the Simpkins family were much accustomed, all joined +together and by degrees hushed poor Light Smiley to sleep, her arms +clasped round Peggy as if to protect her from any possible danger." + +P. 177] + +"Bless us," thought the little guardian to herself, "she may sleep for +hours. Whatever 'ull I do? She's that tired--and when she wakes she'll +be that 'ungry, there'll be no getting her along. She'll be quite +faint-like. If I dared leave her, I'd run on till I found the road and +got somebody to 'elp carry her. But I dursn't. If she woked up and me +gone, she'd be runnin' who knows where, and mebbe never be found again. +Poor missy--it'll be lock-ups and no mistake, wusser I dessay for me, +and quite right too. Mother'll never say I'm fit for a nussery after +makin' sich a fool of myself." + +And in spite of her courage, the tears began to trickle down Sarah's +face. Peggy looked so white and tiny, lying there almost in her arms, +that it made her heart ache to see her. So she shut her own eyes and +tried to think what to do. And the thinking grew gradually confused and +mixed up with all sorts of other thinkings. Sarah fancied she heard her +mother calling her, and she tried to answer, but somehow the words would +not come. + +And at last, though she was really so anxious and distressed, the quiet +and the mild air, and the idleness perhaps, to which none of the +Simpkins family were much accustomed, all joined together and by degrees +hushed poor Light Smiley to sleep, her arms clasped round Peggy as if to +protect her from any possible danger. + +It would have been a touching picture, had there been any one there to +see. Unluckily, not merely for the sake of the picture, but for that of +the children themselves, there was no one. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE SHOES-LADY AGAIN + + "I'll love you through the happy years, + Till I'm a nice old lady." + _Poems written for a Child._ + + +WHEN they woke, both of them at the same moment it seemed, though +probably one had roused the other without knowing it, the sun had gone, +the sky looked dull, it felt chilly and strange. Peggy had thought it +must be past dinner-time before they had sat down to rest; it seemed now +as if it must be past tea-time too! + +Sarah started up, Peggy feebly clinging to her. + +"Oh dear, dear," said Sarah, "I shouldn't have gone to sleep, and it's +got that cold!" She was shivering herself, but Peggy seemed much the +worse of the two. She was white and pinched looking, and as if she were +half stupefied. + +"I'm so cold," she said, "and so hungry. I thought I was in bed at home. +I do so want to go home. I'm sure it's very late, Light Smiley; do take +me home." + +"I'm sure, missy, it's what I want to do," said poor Sarah. "I'm afeared +it's a-going to rain, and whatever 'ull we do then? You wouldn't wait +'ere a minute, would you, while I run to see if there's a road near?" + +"No, no," said Peggy, "I won't stay alone. I'm very, very frightened, +Light Smiley, and I think I'm going to die." + +"Oh Lor', missy, don't you say that," said Sarah, in terror. "If you +can't walk I'll carry you." + +"I'll try to walk," said Peggy, picking up some spirit when she saw +Sarah's white face. + +And then the two set off again, dazed and miserable, very different from +the bright little pair that had started up Fernley Road that morning. + +Things, however, having got to the worst, began to mend, or at least +were beginning to mend for them, though Peggy and Sarah did not just yet +know it. Not far from the edge of the field where they were, a little +bridle-path led into a lane, and a few yards down this lane brought +them out upon Fernley Road again at last. + +"I see the mountings," cried Peggy, "oh, Light Smiley, Peggy sees the +mountings. P'raps we won't die, oh p'raps we'll get home safe again." + +But though she had been trying to be brave, now that she began to hope +again, it was too much for her poor little nerves--Peggy burst into loud +sobbing. + +"Oh, dear missy, try not to cry," said Sarah. "There--there--where's +your hankercher?" and she dived into Peggy's pocket in search of it. And +as she pulled it out, out tumbled at the same time the two little +scarlet shoes, falling on the ground. + +"Oh Light Smiley, my red shoes. They'll be all spoilt and dirtied," said +Peggy, as well as she could, for Sarah was dabbing the handkerchief all +over her face. + +Sarah stooped to pick them up; both children were too much engaged to +notice the sound of wheels coming quickly along the quiet road. But the +sight of a speck of dirt on one of the shoes set Peggy off crying again, +and she cried for once pretty loudly. The wheels came nearer, and then +stopped, and this made Sarah look round. A pony-carriage driven by a +lady had drawn up just beside them. The groom, sitting behind, jumped +down, though looking as if he did not know what he was to do. + +"What is the matter, little girls?" said the lady. + +"It's, please'm--we've lost our road--it's all along o' me, mum--but I +didn't mean no 'arm, only missy's that wore out'm, and----" but before +Sarah could get farther, she was stopped by a sort of cry from both the +lady and Peggy at once. + +"Oh, oh," called out Peggy, "it's the shoes-lady--oh, pelease, pelease, +take me home," and she seemed ready to dart into the lady's arms. + +"I do believe," _she_ said, "I do believe it's the little girl I saw at +the bootmaker's, and--yes, of course it is--there are the shoes +themselves! My dear child, whatever are you doing to be so far from +home--at least I suppose you live in the town?--and what have you got +the dolly's shoes with you for?" + +"I brought them for them to see the mountings and the white cottage," +sobbed Peggy; "but I'm so cold and hungry, pelease take me home, oh, +pelease, do." + +The lady seemed rather troubled. Even if she had not remembered Peggy, +she would have seen in a moment that she was a little lady, though +Peggy looked miserable enough with her torn clothes, and scratched and +tear-stained face. + +"Poor child," she said, "tell me your name, and where you live." + +"I'm Peggy, but I don't 'amember my nother name, 'cos I'm tired and it's +very long," she said. + +The lady looked at Sarah. Sarah shook her head. + +"No, mum, I don't know it neither, but I knows the name of the street. +'Tis Bernard Street'm--off Fernley Road, and their back winders looks +over to us. We're Simpkinses'm, and missy's mar knows as we're +'speckable, and mother she never thought when she told me to take back +the humberellar, as I'd lead missy sich a dance. I'll never do for the +nussery, no never. I'm not steady enough," and here Light Smiley gave +signs of crying herself. + +It was not easy for the lady to make out the story, but by degrees, with +patience she did so. But while talking she had lifted Peggy into the +carriage beside her, and wrapped her up in a shawl that lay on the seat, +Peggy nestling in, quite contentedly. + +"Now," said the lady, "you get in too, Sarah Simpkins, and I'll drive +you both home. I was on my way home out into the country, but I can't +leave you here on the road. This is Fernley Road, but it's quite four +miles from the town." + +In scrambled Sarah, divided between fear of her own and Peggy's +relations' scoldings when they got home, and the delight and honour of +driving in a carriage! The groom would have liked to look grumpy, I am +quite sure, but he dared not. Peggy, for her part, crept closer and +closer to the lady, and ended by falling asleep again, so that it was a +good thing Light Smiley was sitting on the other side, to keep her from +falling out. + +The four miles seemed very short to Sarah, and as they got into the +outskirts of the town her face grew longer and longer. + +"I'm more'n half a mind to run away, I 'ave," she said to herself, quite +unaware she was speaking aloud. "It'll be more'n I can stand, mother and +Rebecca and all on 'em down on me, for I didn't mean no 'arm. I'd best +run away." + +The lady turned to her, hitherto she had not taken much notice of Sarah, +but now she felt sorry for the little girl. + +"What are you saying, my dear?" she said gently, though all the same her +voice made Sarah jump. "Are you afraid of going home? You have not done +anything naughty, exactly, as far as I understand. It was only +thoughtless. I will go with you to your home if you like, and explain to +your mother how it was." + +"Oh thank you, mum," said Sarah, eagerly, her spirits rising again at +once; "you see, mum, I do so want to be in the nussery onst I'm big +enough, and I was so afeared mother'd never think of it again. I only +wanted to please little missy, for she seemed so lonely like, her mar +and all bein' away and no one for to take her a walk. She's a sweet +little missy, she is, but she's only a baby, so to say; she do have such +funny fancies. 'Twas all to see the cottage on the 'ills she wanted to +come up Fernley Road so badly." + +"The cottage--what cottage?" asked the lady. + +Sarah tried to explain, and gradually the lady got to understand what +little Peggy had meant about bringing the red shoes "to see the +mountings and the cottage." + +"She's always a-talking of the country, and father lived there when he +was a boy, and missy had got it in her 'ead that he lived in a white +cottage, like the one she fancies about," Sarah went on. + +"I would like to take her out into the real country, poor little pet," +said the lady, looking tenderly at the sweet tiny face of the sleeping +child. She loved all children, but little girls of Peggy's age were +especially dear to her, for many years before she had had a younger +sister who had died, and the thought of her had come into her mind the +first time she had seen Peggy at the door of the shoe shop. "If I can +see any of her friends I will ask them to let her spend a day with me," +she went on, speaking more to herself than to Sarah. + +As they turned into Bernard Street a cab dashed past them coming very +fast from the opposite direction. It drew up in front of the house which +Sarah was just that moment pointing out to the lady as Peggy's home, and +a gentleman, followed by a young woman, sprang out. The door was opened +almost as soon as they rang, and then the three, the other servant who +had answered the bell, the young woman and the gentleman, all stood +together on the steps talking so anxiously and eagerly that for a moment +or two they did not notice the pony-carriage, and though the groom knew +the whole story by this time and had jumped down at once, he was far +too proper to do anything till he had his lady's orders. + +"Ask the gentleman to speak to me," said the lady, "and you jump out, +little Sarah. I think he must be Peggy's father." + +He had turned round by this time and came hurrying forward. The moment +the lady saw him she knew she had guessed right. He was so like +Peggy--fair and gray-eyed, and with the same gentle expression, and very +young looking to be the father not only of Peggy, but of _big_ little +boys like Thor and Terry. His face looked pale and anxious, but the +moment he caught sight of the little sleeping figure leaning against the +lady it all lighted up and a red flush came into his cheeks. + +"Oh--thank God," he exclaimed, "my little Peggy! You have found her! How +good of you! But--she is not hurt?--she is all right?" + +"Yes--yes--only cold and hungry and tired," said the lady eagerly, for +Peggy did look rather miserable still. "Will you lift her out?" and as +he did so, she got out herself, and turned to Sarah. "May I bring this +other child in for a moment," she said, "and then I can explain it all?" + +Sarah followed gladly, but a sudden thought struck her, "Please'm," she +said, bravely, though the tears came to her eyes as she spoke, "p'raps +I'd best run 'ome; mother'll be frightened about me." + +"But I promised you should not be scolded," said the lady; "stay," and +she turned to Fanny, "she lives close to, she says." + +"At the back--over the cobbler's," said Sarah, readily. + +"Can you let her mother know she's all right, then? And say I am coming +to speak to her in a moment," said the lady, and Fanny went off. She had +been so terrified about Peggy, and so afraid that she would be blamed +for carelessness, that she dared not wait, though she was dying with +curiosity to know the whole story and what one of the Simpkins children +could have had to do with it. + +Peggy awoke by the time her father had got her into the dining-room, +where cook had made a good fire and laid out Peggy's dinner and tea in +one to be all ready, for the poor woman had been hoping every instant +for the last few hours that the little girl would be brought home again. +It had been difficult to find Peggy's father, as he was not at his +office, and Fanny had been there two or three times to fetch him. + +"Oh dear papa," were Peggy's first words, "I'm so glad to be home. I'll +never go up Fernley Road again; but I did so want to see the cottage and +the mountings plainer. And it wasn't Light Smiley's fault. She was very +good to me, and I was very cross." + +This did not much clear up matters. Indeed Peggy's papa was afraid for a +minute or two that his little girl was going to have a fever, and that +her mind was wandering. But all such fears were soon set at rest, and +when the lady went off with Sarah, she left Peggy setting to work very +happily at her dinner or tea, she was not sure which to call it. + +"And you will let her come to spend the day with me to-morrow?" said the +lady, as she shook hands with Peggy's father. "I shall be driving this +way, and I can call for her. I should not be happy not to know that she +was none the worse for her adventures to-day." + +Then the lady took Sarah by the hand and went round with her to her home +in the back street, telling the groom to wait for her at the corner. + +It was well she went herself, for otherwise I am afraid poor Light +Smiley would not have escaped the scolding she dreaded. Her mother and +sisters had been very unhappy and frightened about her, and when +people--especially poor mothers like Mrs. Simpkins, with "so many +children that they don't know what to do"--are anxious and frightened, I +have often noticed that it makes them very cross. + +As it was, however, the lady managed to smoothe it all down, and before +she left she got not only Sarah's mother, but Rebecca and Mary-Hann and +all of them to promise to say no more about it. + +"'Tisn't only for myself I was feelin' so put about, you see, ma'am," +said Mrs. Simpkins, "but when I sent over the way and found the little +missy was not to be found it flashed upon me like a lightenin' +streak--it did that, ma'am--that the two was off together. And if any +'arm had come to the little lady through one of mine, so to say, it +would 'ave gone nigh to break my 'art. For their mar is a sweet lady--a +real feelin' lady is their mar." + +"And a kind friend to you, I daresay," said the stranger. + +"Couldn't be a kinder as far as friendly words and old clotheses goes," +said Mrs. Simpkins. "But she's a large little fam'ly of her own, and not +so very strong in 'ealth, and plenty to do with their money. And so to +speak strangers in the place, though she 'ave said she'd do her best to +get a place in a nice fam'ly for one of my girls." + +The lady glanced at the group of sisters. + +"Yes," she said, "I should think you could spare one or two. How would +you like to be in a kitchen?" she added, turning to Rebecca. + +The girl blushed so that her face matched her arms, and she looked more +"reddy" than ever. But she shook her head. + +"I'm afraid----" she began. + +"No, ma'am, thank you kindly, but I couldn't spare Rebecca," the mother +interrupted. "If it were for Mary-Hann now--Matilda-Jane's coming on and +could take her place. Only, for I couldn't deceive you, ma'am, she's +rather deaf." + +"I shouldn't mind that," said the lady, who was pleased by Mary-Ann's +bright eyes and pleasant face. "I think deaf people sometimes work +better than quick-hearing ones, besides, it may perhaps be cured. I will +speak about her to my housekeeper and let you know. And you, Sarah, you +are to be in the nursery some day." + +Sarah grinned with delight. + +"Not just yet," said Mrs. Simpkins; "she 'ave a deal to learn, 'ave +Sarah. Schooling and stiddiness to begin with. She don't mean no 'arm, +I'll allow." + +"No; I'm sure she wants to be a very good girl," said the lady. "She was +very kind and gentle to little Miss Peggy. So I won't forget you either, +Sarah, when the time comes." + +And then the lady said good-bye to them all, and Mrs. Simpkins's heart +felt lighter than for long, for she was sure that through this new +friend she might get the start in life she had been hoping for, for her +many daughters. + +Peggy slept off her fatigue, and by the next morning she was quite +bright again and able to listen to and understand papa's explanation of +how, though without meaning to be disobedient, she had done wrong the +day before in setting off with Sarah Simpkins as she had done. Two or +three tears rolled slowly down her cheeks as she heard what he said. + +"I meant to be so good while mamma was away," she whispered. "But I'll +never do it again, papa. I'll stay quiet in the nursery all alone, even +if Miss Earnshaw doesn't come back at all." + +For a message had come from the dressmaker that her mother was very ill, +as Fanny had feared, and that she was afraid she would not be able to +leave her for several days. + +"It won't be so bad as that, dear," said her father. "Mamma will be back +in five days now, and I don't think you are likely to be left alone in +the nursery--certainly not to-day;" and then he told her about the lady +having asked her to spend the day out in the country with her, and that +Peggy must be ready by twelve o'clock, not to keep her new friend +waiting. + +Peggy's eyes gleamed with delight. + +"Out into the country?" she said. "Oh, how lovely! And oh, papa, do you +think _p'raps_ she lives in a white cottage?" + +Papa shook his head. + +"I'm afraid it's not a cottage at all where she lives," he said. "But +I'm sure it is a very pretty house, and let us hope it is a white one." + +"No," said Peggy, "you don't understand, papa--not as well as mamma +does. I don't care what colour it is if it's only an 'ouse." + +And she couldn't understand why papa laughed so that he really couldn't +correct her. "I'm afraid, Peggy," he said, "you've been taking lessons +from little Miss Simpkins. It's time mamma came home again to look after +you." + +"Yes, I wish mamma was come home again," said Peggy. "We can't do +without her, can we, papa?" + +But when the dear little pony carriage came up to the door, and Peggy +got in and drove off with her kind friend, she was so happy that she had +not even time to wish for mamma. + +And what a delightful day she had! The lady's house was very pretty, and +the gardens and woods in which it stood even prettier in Peggy's +opinion. And though it was not a cottage, there were all the country +things to see which Peggy was so fond of--cocks and hens, and cows, and +in one field lots of sheep and sweet little lambkins. There were pigs +too, which Peggy would not look at, but ran away to the other end of the +yard as soon as she heard them "grumphing," which amused the lady very +much. And in the afternoon she went a walk with her friend through the +village, where there were several pretty cottages, but none that quite +fitted Peggy's fancy. When they came in again Peggy stood at the +drawing-room window, which looked out towards Brackenshire, without +speaking. + +"You like that view, don't you, dear?" said the lady. "You can see the +hills?" + +"Yes," said Peggy, "I can see the mountings, but not the white cottage. +It's got turned wrong somehow, from here. I can only see _it_ from the +nursery window at home," and she gave a very little sigh. + +"Some day," said the lady, "some day in the summer when the afternoons +are very long, I will drive you right out a long way among the hills, +and perhaps we'll find the cottage then. For I hope your mamma will +often let you come to see me, my little Peggy." + +"Yes," said Peggy, "that would be lovely. I _wonder_ if we'd find the +white cottage." + +No, they never did! The sweet long summer days came, and many a bright +and happy one Peggy spent with her kind friend, but they never found the +white cottage on the hill. Peggy knew it so well in her mind, she felt +she could not mistake it, but though she saw many white cottages which +any one else _might_ have thought was it, she knew better. And each +time, though she sighed a little, she hoped again. + +But before another summer came round Peggy and her father and mother, +and Thor, and Terry, and Hal, and Baldwin, and Baby had all gone +away--far away to the south, many hours' journey from the dingy town +and the Fernley Road, and the queer old house in the back street where +lived the cobbler and old Mother Whelan and Brown Smiley and Light +Smiley and all the rest of them. Far away too from the hills and the +strange white speck in the distance which Peggy called her cottage. + +So it never was more than a dream to her after all, and perhaps--perhaps +it was best so? For nothing has ever spoilt the sweetness and the +mystery of the childish fancy--she can see it with her mind's eye +still--the soft white speck on the far-away, blue hills--she can see it +and think of it and make fancies about it even now--now that she has +climbed a long, long way up the mountain of life, and will soon be +creeping slowly down the other side, where the sun still shines, +however, and there are even more beautiful things to hope for than the +sweetest dreams of childhood. + + +THE END + + + _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh._ + + * * * * * + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Obvious punctuation errors repaired. + +Page 16, caption of illustration, "accomodate" changed to "accommodate" +(to accommodate the whole) + +Page 47, word "a" added to text (it a waste of time) + +Page 101, the text mentions a "Ferndale Road". There are many references +elsewhere to "Fernley Road" so this might be a misprint. It was +retained. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Little Miss Peggy, by Mrs. Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE MISS PEGGY *** + +***** This file should be named 36015.txt or 36015.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/0/1/36015/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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