CHAPTER II.
THE WASPS.
ou will not have read even as much as this without finding out that Peggy was always getting into trouble. And indeed it was her nature to do so, poor dear, though it seldom was through any serious fault on her part. The first evening of her visit to Seafield had ended in this fight with Patrick, and the next morning something much worse happened. I must tell you all about it.
The sun was shining very brightly next morning, and Peggy felt as happy as possible. On the way downstairs she met Patrick; and because she was very sweet-tempered and forgiving, she sat down on the top step at once, and held out her hand to him—a little warily, of course.
She was delighted to see that Patrick, too, wanted to be on friendly terms. He came and rubbed his head against her and purred. So they made it up, and Peggy ran downstairs.
“May I play in the garden, auntie?” she asked at breakfast.
Aunt Euphemia considered for a moment. “Yes, if you do not leave the garden, and do not tread upon the flower-beds, or gather the flowers,” she answered at last.
Peggy did not much mind these regulations. It looked so delightful out there in the sunshine that she wanted nothing else. So when breakfast was over, she ran out and began to wander about, looking at all the new things—quite new most of them were to her. Different flowers grew here from those that filled the garden at home, and they were so nice to smell, even if she might not pick them. In one corner grew a bush of a great feathery shrub that she had never seen before. She walked round and round it, and longed to have one of the long feathery switches for a wand, such as fairies use.
Just as she was thinking how much she would like this, a young man came across the lawn with the mowing-machine. He looked good-natured, Peggy thought, and she wondered if she might ask him about the wand. She did not know his name, however, and felt a little shy. She stood still, with her finger in her mouth (a bad habit she had), and watched him while he poured oil into the little holes of the mowing-machine. Then she summoned up courage to speak to him.
“Man,” she said, in a very shy voice—“man, I would like one of these branches for a fairy-wand; do you think I might have one?” She pointed to the bush.