“My fault!” The accusation was too preposterous to be taken seriously. Peggy could not keep from smiling.
“Oh, yes, I don’t wonder that you laugh,” exclaimed Claire, finding in that involuntary twitching of the lips new fuel for her wrath. “It’s what you’ve been plotting all the time, and now you’ve done it, so, of course, you’re satisfied.”
Peggy’s impulse to laughter had passed. She turned rather pale, and sat silent, not deigning to reply to such a charge, while Claire rushed on recklessly. “Of course, after this, nothing would induce me to stay in this house another night.”
“I should hope not,” remarked Priscilla with deadly coldness. She might have forgiven Claire’s attack on herself, but such treatment of Peggy was not to be overlooked. The eyes of the two girls met like clashing swords.
But in spite of Claire’s declaration that nothing would induce her to spend another night at Dolittle Cottage, when it was ascertained that the first train on which she could take her departure left at ten o’clock next morning, she did not seek the hospitality of Mrs. Snooks’ roof, nor even suggest sleeping on the lawn. After her first paroxysm of anger was over, she became abnormally and painfully polite, begged everybody’s pardon for nothing at all, and proffered extravagant thanks for the simplest service. She declined to come down to supper on the pretext that she was too busy packing. And when Peggy carried up a well-laden tray, Claire received her with courteous protests.
“Oh, dear me! You shouldn’t have done that. I had no idea of your taking any trouble on my account. I’m not at all hungry, you know.” Claire would have given much for sufficient strength of will to refuse to taste another morsel of food in Dolittle Cottage, but being angry is, unluckily, no safeguard against being hungry.
As a matter of fact, the voice of Claire’s appetite was too insistent to allow her to give herself the satisfaction of haughtily declining to profit by Peggy’s thoughtfulness. “Just set the tray down anywhere,” she continued, packing ostentatiously, “and if I get time and feel like it, I’ll eat a mouthful.” And Peggy departed, relieved by her sincere conviction that no one in the cottage would go to bed without a satisfactory evening meal.
As Claire was to leave at ten, and Elaine arrived at eleven, it was but natural that the girls who were to meet the new arrival should accompany the departing guest on the four-mile drive to the station. Indeed, if they depended on the stage, it was necessary that they should go together, as this conveyance made but one trip a day in each direction. Peggy did not wish to delegate to any of the other girls the responsibility of meeting Elaine, whom she regarded as her especial guest, and since Claire had come to the cottage on Priscilla’s invitation, Peggy felt that it devolved on Priscilla to see her off, in spite of the unfortunate termination of the visit.
“As for seeing her off, I shall be glad enough to do that,” declared Priscilla, who, now that her tongue was loosed, was atoning for many days of repression. “But, Peggy, I don’t see how I can stand a four-mile drive with that girl.”
“I’ll be there too, honey, and with the stage driver listening to every word, we can’t talk about anything except the scenery. Please come, Priscilla. Don’t give her any excuse for thinking that you haven’t done everything that could possibly be expected of you.”