"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Pringle understandingly, with a quick glance at her husband. "Poor Aunt Caroline!"
She sat in silence after that, listening whilst Peggy expatiated at great length upon all the delights of life at a farm. Billy drank in every word with keen interest, reflecting that some day, not so very distant, he would most likely enjoy his share of the pleasures which his sister explained so marvellously—considering she had been unable to see.
"I know everything was very beautiful," she said, in conclusion, "for there seemed to be flowers everywhere, and the scent of the gorse on the cliffs was wonderful—I never smelt anything so sweet or strong before! And the air was so warm, and the sun shone nearly every day, and—"
"And now you have come back to rain and cold," interposed Mrs. Pringle; "you will feel it a hardship, I fear, after the mild climate you've enjoyed of late and after having spent so much time out-of-doors, to be cooped up in a small house again."
"I don't mind the rain and the cold in the very least," Peggy declared, "and I love our little house. Oh, I'm so glad to be at home! Yes, indeed I am! I've enjoyed my visit to Cornwall; but I think I've missed you all as much or more than you have missed me. I'm glad I went, but I'm gladder still to be back again—to be able to hear your voices and put out my hands and feel you are here! You would understand what that means, if you were blind. Oh, I think I was never so happy in my life before as I am to-night."
"Thank God for that, my darling," Mrs. Pringle responded in a tremulous voice. "Oh, we have much to thank Him for!" she added softly, as she remembered the pale, delicate little girl she had seen off at Paddington railway station with a very heavy heart six weeks previously and mentally compared her with the one—a picture of health and contentment—who now nestled close to her side. She had prayed—oh, so earnestly!—that Peggy might be restored to her well and strong, and her Father in Heaven had answered her prayer.
[CHAPTER XII]
AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT
THE first few days after Peggy's return home were very wet and cold, although it was late spring. But one morning, she arose conscious of a change in the atmosphere and that the sun was shining into her bedroom window, whilst the sparrows were twittering noisily outside as though they had matters of great importance to discuss with each other.
"I think we are going to have a taste of spring weather at last," observed Mr. Pringle at the breakfast table that morning. "There's the promise of a beautiful May day, and I hope," he continued, addressing his wife, "that you will manage to get out for a while in the sunshine—you and Peggy."