“Not at all. I am entirely1 at your disposal,” said Peggy elegantly; and the young people made their way to the cloak-room, swung on coats and sailor hats, and sallied out into the fresh autumn air.
“Mariquita,” said Robert then, using once more the name by which he chose to address Peggy in their confidential2 confabs, “Mariquita, I am in difficulties! There is a microscope advertised in Science this week, that is the very thing I have been pining for for the last six years. I must get it, or die; but the question is—how? You see before you a penniless man.” He looked at Peggy as he spoke3, and met her small, demure4 smile.
“My dear and honourable5 sir—”
“Yes, yes, I know; drop that, Mariquita! Don’t take for granted, like Mellicent, that because a man has a title he must necessarily be a millionaire. Everything is comparative! My father is rich compared to the vicar, but he is really hard-up for a man in his position. He gets almost no rent for his land nowadays, and I am the third son. I haven’t as much pocket-money in a month as Oswald gets through in a week. Now that microscope costs twenty pounds, and if I were to ask the governor for it, he wouldn’t give it to me, but he would sigh and look wretched at being obliged to refuse. He’s a kind-hearted fellow, you know, who doesn’t like to say ‘No,’ and I hate to worry him. Still—that microscope! I must have it. By hook or by crook6, I must have it. I’ve set my mind on that.”
“I’m sure I hope you will, though for my part you must not expect me to look through it. I like things to be pretty, and when you see them through a microscope they generally look hideous7. I saw my own hand once—ugh!” Peggy shuddered8. “Twenty pounds! Well, I can only say that my whole worldly wealth is at your disposal. Draw on me for anything you like—up to seven-and-six! That’s all the money I have till the beginning of the month.”
“Thanks!—I didn’t intend to borrow; I have a better idea than that. I was reading a magazine the other day, and came upon a list of prize competitions. The first prize offered was thirty pounds, and I’m going to win that prize! The microscope costs only twenty pounds, but the extra ten would come in usefully for—I’ll tell you about that later on! The Piccadilly Magazine is very respectable and all that sort of thing; but the governor is one of the good, old-fashioned, conservative fellows, who would be horrified9 if he saw my name figuring in it. I’m bound to consider his feelings, but all the same I’m going to win that prize. It says in the rules—I’ve read them through carefully—that you can ask your friends to help you, so that there would be nothing unfair about going into partnership10 with someone else. What I was going to suggest was that you and I should collaborate11. I’d rather work with you than with any of the others, and I think we could manage it rather well between us. Our contribution should be sent in in your name; that is to say, if you wouldn’t object to seeing yourself in print.”
“I should love it. I’m proud of my name; and it would be a new sensation.” But Peggy spoke in absent-minded fashion, as if her thoughts were running on another subject. Rob had used a word which was unfamiliar12 in her ears, a big word, a word with a delightful13 intellectual roll, and she had not the remotest idea of its meaning. Collaborate! Beautiful! Not for worlds would she confess her ignorance, yet the opportunity could not be thrown away. She must secure the treasure, and add it to her mental store. She put her head on one side, and said pensively—
“I shall be most happy to er—er—In what other words can I express ‘collaborate,’ Rob? I object to repetition?”
“Go shags!” returned Robert briefly14. “I would do the biggest part of the work, of course—that’s only fair, because I want two-thirds of the money—but you could do what you liked, and have ten pounds for your share. Ten pounds would come in very usefully for Christmas.”
“Rather! I’d get mother and father lovely presents, and Mrs Asplin too; and buy books for Esther, and a little gold ring for Mellicent—it’s her idea of happiness to have a gold ring. I’ll help you with pleasure, Rob, and I’m sure we shall get the prize. What have we to do? Compose some poetry?”
“Goodness, no! Fancy me making up poetry! It’s to make up a calendar. There are subjects given for each month—sorrow, love, obedience15, resignation—that sort of thing, and you have to give a quotation17 for each day. It will take some time, but we ought to stand a good chance. You are fond of reading, and know no end of poetry, and where I have a pull is in knowing French and German so well. I can give them some fine translations from the Latin and Greek too, for the matter of that, and put the authors’ names underneath18. That will impress the judges, and make ’em decide in our favour. I’ve been working at it only three days, and I’ve got over fifty quotations19 already. We must keep note-books in our pockets, and jot20 down any ideas that occur to us during the day, and go over them together at night. You will know a lot, I’m sure.”
“‘Sorrow and silence are strong,
and patient endurance is godlike,
Therefore accomplish thy labour of love,
till the heart is made godlike.’”
quoted Peggy with an air; and Rob nodded approval.
“That’s it! That’s the style! Something with a bit of a sermon in it to keep ’em up to the mark for the day. Bravo, Mariquita! you’ll do it splendidly. That’s settled, then. We shall have to work hard, for there is only a month before it must be sent off, and we must finish in good time. When you leave things to the last, something is bound to come in the way. It will take an age to write out three hundred and sixty-five extracts.”
“It will indeed, for they must be very nicely done,” said Peggy fastidiously. “Of course it is most important that the extracts themselves should be good, but it matters almost as much that they should look neat and attractive. Appearances go such a long way.” And when Robert demurred21, and stated his opinion that the judges would not trouble their heads about looks, she stuck firmly to her point.
“Oh, won’t they, though! Just imagine how you would feel if you were in their position, and had to look over scores of ugly, uninteresting manuscripts. You would be bored to death, and, after plodding22 conscientiously23 through a few dozen, you would get so mixed up that you would hardly be able to distinguish one from another. Then suddenly—suddenly,”—Peggy clasped her hands with one of her favourite dramatic gestures—“you would see before you a dainty little volume, prettily24 written, easy to read, easy to hold, nice to look at, and do you mean to say that your heart wouldn’t give a jump, and that you would not take a fancy to the writer from that very moment? Of course you would; and so, if you please, I am going to look after the decorative25 department, and see what can be done. I must give my mind to it—Oh! I’ll tell you what would be just the thing. When I was in the library one day lately I saw some sweet little note-books with pale green leaves and gilt26 edges. I’ll count the pages, and buy enough to make up three hundred and sixty-five, and twelve extra, so as to put one plain sheet between each month. Then we must have a cover. Two pieces of cardboard would do, with gilt edges, and a motto in Old English letters—‘The months in circling-orbit fly.’ Have I read that somewhere, or did I make it up? It sounds very well. Well, what next?” Peggy was growing quite excited, and the restless hands were waving about at a great rate. “Oh, the pages! We shall have to put the date at the top of each. I could do that in gold ink, and make a pretty little skriggle—er—‘arabesque’ I should say, underneath, to give it a finish. Then I’d hand them on to you to write the extracts in your tiny little writing. Rob, it will be splendid! Do you really think we shall get the prize?”
“I mean to get it! We have a good library here, and plenty of time, if we like to use it. I’m going to get up at six every morning. I shan’t fail for want of trying, and if I miss this I’ll win something else. My mind is made up! I’m going to buy that microscope!” Robert tossed his head and looked ferocious27, while Peggy peered in his rugged28 face, and, womanlike, admired him the more for his determination.
They lingered in the garden discussing details, planning out the work, and arranging as to the different books to be overlooked until the tea hour was passed, and Mrs Asplin came to the door and called to them to come in.
“And nothing on your feet but your thin slippers29? Oh, you Peggy!” she exclaimed in despair. “Now you will have a cold, and ten to one it will fly to your throat. I shall have to line you a penny every time you cross the doorstep without changing your shoes. Summer is over, remember. You can’t be too careful in these raw, damp days. Run upstairs this minute and change your stockings.”
Peggy looked meek30, and went to her room at once to obey orders; but the mischief31 was done—she shivered, and could not get warm, her head ached, and her eyes felt heavy. Mrs Asplin looked anxiously at her in the drawing-room after dinner, and finally called her to her side.
“Peggy, come here! Aren’t you well? Let me feel your hand. Child, it’s like a coal! You are in a fever. Why didn’t you tell me at once?”
“Because I—really, it’s nothing, Mrs Asplin! Don’t be worried. I don’t know why I feel so hot. I was shivering only a minute ago.”
“Go straight upstairs and take a dose of ammoniated quinine. Turn on the fire in your room. Max! Robert! Oswald! Esther! Mellicent! will everyone please look after Peggy in the future, and see that she does not run out in her slippers!” cried Mrs Asplin in a despairing voice; and Peggy bolted out of the door, in haste to escape before more reproaches could be hurled32 at her head.
But an alarm of a more serious nature than a threatened cold was to take place before the evening was over. The young people answered briefly, Mrs Asplin turned back to her book, and silence settled down upon the occupants of the drawing-room. It was half-past eight, the servants had carried away the dinner things, and were enjoying their evening’s rest in the kitchen. The vicar was nodding in his easy-chair, the house was so quiet that the tick of the old grandfather clock in the hall could be heard through the half-opened door. Then suddenly came the sound of flying footsteps, the door burst open, and in rushed Peggy once more,—but such a Peggy, such an apparition33 of fear, suffering, and terror as brought a cry of consternation34 from every lip. Her eyes were starting from her head, her face was contorted in spasmodic gaspings for breath, her arms sawed the air like the sails of a windmill, and she flew round and round the room in a wild, unheeding rush.
“Peggy, my child! my child! what is the matter? Oh, Austin—oh! What shall we do?” cried Mrs Asplin, trying to catch hold of the flying arms, only to be waved off with frenzied36 energy. Mellicent dissolved into tears and retreated behind the sofa, under the impression that Peggy had suddenly taken leave of her senses, and practical Esther rushed upstairs to search for a clue to the mystery among the medicine bellies37 on Peggy’s table. She was absent only for a few minutes; but it seemed like an hour to the watchers, for Peggy’s face grew more and more agonised, she seemed on the verge38 of suffocation39, and could neither speak nor endure anyone to approach within yards of her mad career. Presently, however, she began to falter40, to draw her breath in longer gasps41, and as she did so there emerged from her lips a series of loud whooping42 sounds, like the crowing of a cock, or the noise made by a child in the convulsions of whooping-cough. The air was making its way to the lungs after the temporary stoppage, and the result would have been comical if any of the hearers had been in a mood for jesting, which, in good truth, they were not.
“Thank Heaven! She will be better now. Open the window and leave her alone. Don’t try to make her speak. What in the world has the child been doing?” cried the vicar wonderingly; and at that moment Esther entered, bearing in her hand the explanation of the mystery—a bottle labelled “Spirits of Ammonia,” and a tumbler about an eighth full of a white milky-looking fluid.
“They were in the front of the table. The other things had not been moved. I believe she has never looked at the labels, but seized the first bottle that came to her hand—this dreadfully strong ammonia which you gave her for the gnat16 bites when she first came.”
A groan43 of assent44 came from the sofa on which Peggy lay, choking no longer, but ghastly white, and drawing her breath in painful gasps. Mrs Asplin sniffed45 at the contents of the tumbler, only to jerk back her head with watery46 eyes and reddened lips.
“No wonder that the child was nearly choked! The marvel47 is that she had ever regained48 her breath after such a mistake. Her throat must be raw!” She hurried out of the room to concoct49 a soothing50 draught51, at which Peggy supped at intervals52 during the evening, croaking53 out a hoarse54, “Better, thank you!” in reply to inquiries55, and looking so small and pathetic in her nest of cushions that the hearts of the beholders softened56 at the sight. Before bedtime, however, she revived considerably57, and, her elastic58 spirits coming to her aid, entertained the listeners with a husky but dramatic account of her proceedings59. How she had not troubled to turn the gas full up, and had just seized the bottle, tilted60 some of the contents into a tumbler in which there was a small portion of water, without troubling to measure it out, and gulped61 it down without delay. Her description of the feelings which ensued was a really clever piece of word-painting, but behind the pretence62 of horror at her own carelessness there rang a hardly concealed63 note of pride, as though, in thus risking her life, she had done something quite clever and distinguished64.
Mrs Asplin exhausted65 herself in “Ohs!” and “Ahs!” of sympathy, and had nothing harsher to say than—
“Well now, dearie, you’ll be more careful another time, won’t you?” But the vicar’s long face grew longer than ever as he listened, and the lines deepened in his forehead. Peggy was inexperienced in danger-signals, but Esther and Mellicent recognised the well-known signs, and were at no loss to understand the meaning of that quiet, “A word with you in the study, Mariquita, if you please!” with which he rose from the breakfast-table next morning.
Peggy’s throat was still sore, and she fondly imagined that anxiety on its behalf was the cause of the summons, but she was speedily undeceived, for the vicar motioned towards a chair, and said, in short grave sentences, as his manner was when annoyed—
“I wish to speak to you about the event of last night; I am afraid that you hardly realise the matter in its true light. I was not at all pleased with the manner in which you gave your explanation. You appeared to imagine that you had done something clever and amusing. I take a very different view. You showed a reprehensible66 carelessness in trifling67 with medicines in the dark; it might have caused you your life, or, at best, a serious injury. As it was, you brought pain upon yourself, and gave us all a serious alarm. I see nothing amusing in such behaviour, but consider it stupid, and careless to an almost criminal extent.”
Peggy stood motionless, eyes cast down, hands clasped before her—a picture of injured innocence68. She did not say a word in self-defence, but her feelings were so plainly written on her face that the vicar’s eyes flashed with impatience69.
“Well, what have you to say?”
Peggy sighed in dolorous70 fashion.
“I am sorry; I know it was careless. I am always doing things like that. So is Arthur. So was father when he was a boy. It’s in the family. It’s unfortunate, but—”
“Mariquita,” said the vicar sternly, “you are not sorry! If I had seen that you were penitent71, I should not have spoken, for you would have been sufficiently72 punished by your own sufferings, but you are not sorry; you are, on the whole, rather proud of the escapade! Look into your own heart and see if it is not so?”
He paused, looking at her with grave, expectant eyes, but there was no sign of conviction upon the set face. The eyes were still lowered, the lips drooped73 with an expression of patient endurance. There was silence in the room while Peggy studied the carpet, and the vicar gazed at her downcast face. A moment before he had been on the verge of anger, but the sternness melted away in that silence, and gave place to an anxious tenderness. Here was a little human soul committed to his care—how could he help? how best guide and train? The long, grave face grew beautiful in that moment with the expression which it wore every Sunday as he gazed around the church at the beginning of the sermon, noting this one and that, having a swift realisation of their needs and failings, and breathing a prayer to God that He would give to his lips the right word, to his heart the right thought, to meet the needs of his people. Evidently, sternness and outspoken74 blame was not the best way to touch the girl before him. He must try another mode.
“Peggy,” he said quietly, “do you think you realise what a heavy responsibility we laid upon ourselves when we undertook the care of you for these three years? If any accident happened to you beneath our roof, have you ever imagined what would be our misery75 and remorse76 at sending the news to your parents? About their feelings I do not speak; you can realise them for yourself. We safeguard you with every precaution in our power; we pray morning and night that you may be preserved in safety; is it too much to ask that you will do your part by showing more forethought, and by exercising some little care in the daily duties of life? I ask it for our sakes as well as your own.”
A pink flush spread over Peggy’s cheeks; she gulped nervously77 and raised her eyes to the vicar’s face. Twice her lips opened as if to speak, but the natural reserve, which made it agony to her to express her deepest feelings, closed them again before a word had been spoken. The question was not answered, but a little hand shot out and nestled in Mr Asplin’s with a spasmodic grip which was full of eloquence78.
“Yes, dear, I know you will! I know you will!” he said, answering the unspoken promise, and looking down at her with one of his sweet, kindly79 smiles. “It will be a comfort to my wife as well as myself. She is very nervous about you. She was upstairs three times in the night, to satisfy herself that you were well after your fright, and is too tired herself to come downstairs this morning. She is always bright and cheery, but she is not very strong. You would be sorry to make her ill.”
No answer, only another grip of the hand, and a sudden straightening of the lips, as if they were pressed together to avoid an involuntary trembling. There is something especially touching80 in the sight of restrained emotion; and as the vicar thought of his own two daughters, his heart was very tender over the girl whose parents were separated from her by six thousand miles of land and sea.
“Well now, dear, I have said my say, and that is an end of it. I don’t like finding fault, but my dear wife has thrown that duty on my shoulders by being too tender-hearted to say a word of blame even when it is needed. Her method works very well, as a rule, but there are occasions when it would be criminal to withhold81 a just reprimand.” The vicar stopped short, and a spasm35 of laughter crossed his face. Peggy’s fingers had twitched82 within his own as he spoke those last two words, and her eyes had dilated83 with interest. He knew as well as if he had been told that she was gloating over the new expression, and mentally noting it for future use. Nothing, however, could have been sweeter or more natural than the manner in which she sidled against him, and murmured—
“Thank you so much. I am sorry! I will truly try;” and he watched her out of the room with a smile of tender amusement.
“A nice child—a good child—feels deeply. I can rely upon her to do her best.”
Robert was hanging about in the passage, ready, as usual, to fulfil his vows84 of support, and Peggy slid her hand through his arm and sauntered slowly with him towards the schoolroom. Like the two girls, he had been at no loss to understand the reason of the call to the study, and would fain have expressed his sympathy, but Peggy stopped him with uplifted finger.
“No, no—he was perfectly85 right. You must not blame him. I have been guilty of reprehensible carelessness, and merited a reprimand!”
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1
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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demure
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| adj.严肃的；端庄的 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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collaborate
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| vi.协作，合作；协调 | |
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unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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gnat
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| v.对小事斤斤计较，琐事 | |
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quotation
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| n.引文，引语，语录；报价，牌价，行情 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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quotations
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| n.引用( quotation的名词复数 )；[商业]行情（报告）；（货物或股票的）市价；时价 | |
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jot
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demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plodding
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conscientiously
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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decorative
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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slippers
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meek
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mischief
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hurled
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apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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verge
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suffocation
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falter
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| vi.(嗓音)颤抖，结巴地说；犹豫；蹒跚 | |
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gasps
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| v.喘气( gasp的第三人称单数 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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concoct
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| v.调合，制造 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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croaking
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的现在分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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reprehensible
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| adj.该受责备的 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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dolorous
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| adj.悲伤的；忧愁的 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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withhold
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| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
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twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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