PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY
ON a certain bright March morning, Mrs. Tiddy stood beneath the creeper-covered porch at the front door of Lower Brimley Farm, waiting for her husband, who had been up and out-of-doors since daybreak, to return to breakfast. Mr. Tiddy had arrived home from London on the previous evening, having brought Peggy Pringle with him. But the little girl, over-tired as the result of the long journey, had been sleeping firmly when her hostess had visited her bedroom half an hour before, and orders had been given that she was not to be awakened.
The mistress of Lower Brimley was a small-sized woman with a trim figure and a pleasant countenance, which wore a very contented expression at the present moment. The view over which Mrs. Tiddy's blue eyes wandered admiringly was a most beautiful one, for Lower Brimley was situated on the slope of a hill, not ten minutes' walk from the sea and the small fishing village which straggled in one steep street from the beach to the old grey church on the cliff.
The soft air was sweet with the scent of flowers on this sunny spring morning, for the land close by was given up to the cultivation of daffodils and narcissi of nearly every species, which flourished in the rich moist soil and were now in full bloom, and the garden in front of the house was a fine show, too, with violets, hyacinths, and purple and scarlet anemones, against a background of rhododendron bushes. In short, there was a wealth of flowers everywhere; and as Mrs. Tiddy's contemplative gaze roamed over her own domain to the distant sea, glimmering like silver in the bright sunshine, it was caught and held by the golden furze on the cliffs, and she murmured admiringly:
"What a glorious sight! And to think that that dear child will never know how beautiful it all is! How sad to be blind!"
An expression of deep regret crossed Mrs. Tiddy's face as she thought of her little visitor; but it gave place to a bright smile as she caught sight of her husband approaching. And she ran down the path to the garden gate to meet him, anxious to hear that he had found everything on the farm in good order. She was soon satisfied upon that point, for he was in high spirits, and complimented her upon her management during his absence. And then they went into the house together, and sat down to breakfast in the parlour, a large comfortably-furnished room, the windows of which commanded a view of the village and the sea.
"And how is my fellow-traveller?" Mr. Tiddy inquired by-and-by.
"She was sleeping firmly half an hour ago and I have given orders that she is not to be disturbed," his wife-responded. "She was so very tired last night, and I fancy she felt home-sick—poor little soul! She has never been away from her own people before, you see, and oh, Ebenezer, think how helpless one must feel to be always in darkness!"
"Yes," he agreed, "but though she has been denied sight, her other senses seem preternaturally keen. It's always the way with blind people, I've heard. And—why, here she comes!"
Mr. Tiddy rose as the door opened, and Peggy stood hesitating upon the threshold of the room. Going to her side, he gave her a hearty kiss, inquired how she was this morning, and, having been assured that she was quite well, led her to his wife.