Peg laughed, then she cried, then ran to the door and fastened it securely; then untied her bundle when out fell night-rail, green hood and kerchief, powder, patch-box, lavender, musk, pins, needles, red silken hose, Levantine gown, and veil of Brussels lace. She shook the skirt out of its wrinkles, laid off her wig and ’broidered waist-coat; unpinned her long plaited hair from its coil, and was stoutly making up her mind to brave all, get into her petticoats, and confess everything to Mr. Brummell. But, as she was about to wash the dark stains from her face, comes there a “rap-a-tap” at the door, and Peg, dropping the ewer, calls out fiercely:
“Who’s there?”
“An it please you, Sir Robin, Mr. Brummell bids me say to you that Mr. Chalk, the tailor, a person of the best fashion, will have the honor of waiting upon you for your measurements in a quarter of an hour, if you’ll be pleased to see him then, or later?”
Peg hesitated; there was a battle fought within her those sixty seconds wherein all that was noblest and best struggled and strove to know which was the right thing to do; nor could she determine, save that, at second thought of confiding her sex to Mr. Brummell, it appeared to her she could not.
“I shall be ready to see Chalk, I thank you, in fifteen minutes, more or less,” humming a tune with elaborate carelessness, rolling up the Levantine, the hood, veil, and night-rail into a ball, and pitching them into the chest of drawers; disposing the powder and perfumes and pins on the dressing-table; throwing the needles and patches into the fire; untying the kerchief and taking out soap, scissors, brushes.
“’Tis clear as water, I’m to be a man yet awhile,” whispered she. “Heaven grant it may not be long! So!” seizing the scissors and shaking out the locks. “Snip! clip, and away with you! that I was once vain of, because a vile deceiver named Percy vowed he loved you!”
And off came Peg’s hair, the which for silly liking of she stuffed into the drawer beside the Levantine and let fall a tear or two. Then snip, clip again as she had often done for her twin; so that, in no time at all, her head, with its short curly locks brushed back at this side and that of her broad forehead, had all the aspect of a man’s.
“There,” cried she, sweeping the last litter of her black tresses into the flames. “An I be a gentleman, I’ll be a gallant one. I sighed once to taste the sweets of bein’ of t’other sex for only one-half an hour.—Zounds! as daddy’d say, would that I’d never quit my frocks. What hath it bettered me? To behold with mine own eyes the charms of her who’s routed me from his heart; to hear him a-pledgin’ me just to please my brother, and for the sake of spitin’ Sir Robin McTart; to get myself into a position that makes me burstin’ with shame and feelin’ sure I can never hold up my head again in this world. Me, that’s always loathed a hoyden! and even have I the muscle of a lad, and can I stride a horse, and jump any ditch was ever dug,—yet, yet,—oh! How did I ever bring myself to put on these?” And My Lady Peggy slaps her breeches with a whack, and promptly falls upon her knees a-praying for her father and mother, and brother, and Sir Percy, and Chock, and Bickers.
“And, Oh God, high up in Heaven, forgive me for all my wilfulness and jealousy and foolhardiness, and stealin’ my twin’s clothes; and deceit, the which has got me into this foul station, wherein I have told naught but lies—and I do despise lies,—they are most disgustin’ and utterly wicked. Forgive me for all the horrible sins I’ve committed—”
Footsteps now resound in the corridor and the voice of Mr. Brummell’s own man says blandly: