'Oh, I know; that old farmhouse by the river. We've often passed it on our way to Wyngates. Why, you're quite in the country! Do you go to school, or have you a governess?'
'I go to Warford High School. We drive in every day.'
'To the High School!' said Phyllis, with uplifted eyebrows. 'Well, I suppose it's all right for farmer's daughters. Marjorie and I go to a London boarding school.'
Peggy was furious. If she could only have thought of a suitable retort, she would have said something stinging; but usually our smartest remarks occur to us when the occasion has long passed by, and perhaps it is all the better, for we are saved from bitter words, which, once spoken, are not easily forgotten by the hearers, however keenly we may regret them ourselves. As it was, she could only walk away with what dignity she could summon; for tea was over, the boys were rushing back to cricket, and the girls collecting in little groups to arrange tennis sets.
'Come and look round the garden, Peggy,' said Maud, at last taking some notice of her friend. 'We've scarcely seen anything of you all the afternoon!'
Peggy forebore to remark that it was not her fault, and, cheering up a little, she joined the select circle whom Maud was conducting through the greenhouses and conservatories. The Middletons had a fine collection of orchids and rare plants, which were much admired by the young visitors, though simple Peggy could not help thinking they were not half so pretty as the roses and lilies in the old garden at home, and certainly the grand Scotch gardener was not nearly so nice as David or Joe, for he seemed quite to resent their presence and followed them about grimly, for fear they should disturb anything, or pluck any of the fruit or flowers.
'We're going to London next week,' drawled Maud, in her most grown-up manner. 'We've taken a house in Mayfair. Mother always likes to go up for a while during the season. We've so many friends, don't you know. I expect we shall have a lovely time. We drive in the Park every day, and father has promised to take us to "Lohengrin." Have you seen it, Linda?'
Linda had not seen it, but she had been to other operas, and was only too pleased to air her knowledge, so the conversation turned upon plays and actors, and Peggy, who had never been inside a theatre in her life, could only stand and listen. She felt so shy and stupid, and so apart from the other girls, that she began to wish heartily that she had never come, and long for the hour when it would be time to go home, and even to wonder how she could ever have thought she liked Maud so much—'though she was quite different to this at the dancing-lessons,' she reflected.
A welcome diversion came outside, however, in the shape of a beautiful white Persian kitten, who submitted to pettings with gracious condescension, arching her back and purring loudly.
'I'll fetch Carlo,' said Maud, who was genuinely fond of her pets, and liked to show them to an appreciative audience.