“I—don’t—know—” she said miserably.
“Don’t know,” Mrs. Forest smiled disagreeably, “I will ask Miss Parsons what she thinks.”
Peggy looked up from her contemplation of the carpet and gave a little gasp.
“Oh, I’m not in a frame of mind to think they’re very important one way or another,” she replied, with an entirely maddening smile of deprecation. Her dimple flashed in and out of her cheek and she met Mrs. Forest’s gaze with an unperturbed calm.
“Your penalty for feeling that way—and acting as you feel is that you shall not be taken to Annapolis in the spring when all the other girls are going!” Mrs. Forest exclaimed with heat. “Does that make a difference in your attitude?”
“No,” said Peggy, “for most of this afternoon I never expected to go to Annapolis anyway—or anywhere else in the world again.”
The girls caught the under note of earnestness in her voice and leaned forward interestedly, excitement beginning to shine in their questioning eyes.
“I was paralyzed back there in the snow when the storm came up,” she went on, a bit of the weariness that was in every limb showing forth in her voice, “I gave up expecting to come back. And then a man saved me. Never mind about Annapolis. I’m more than satisfied just as it is.”
“Were you in danger from the storm, Peggy?” asked Katherine. “I was scared to pieces when I saw it coming up, but I didn’t want to start a search party—and someway I thought you couldn’t really get lost—we know all the places around here so well.”
“But I couldn’t see them,” said Peggy, “and I got blown away every time I tried to turn in a new direction. A man saved me and—got me some hot chocolate, and—and I’ve been late to dinner before and all this fuss wasn’t made over it.”