Peggy from Kerry

by L. T. Meade

Now it so happened that Mrs. Fleming was rather fascinated than otherwise by Wyndham’s description of Peggy Desmond. She wrote immediately to say that she would take Peggy, and had every confidence that she could train the “little wild colt” to her own views and wishes. In short, without spoiling Peggy’s character, she would make her what was most desirable—a real lady. “The difficulty will be this,” she said, “I must on no account break her spirit, for the child, from what you tell me, must have enormous spirit. I must train her without breaking that.”

It was, therefore, impossible for Wyndham to accede to Mary Polly Molly’s request. The girl must go to The Red Gables; if she did not seize the chance she might not be able to go to the school at all.

Amongst the teachers at the school was a certain Miss Greene, a very tall, graceful, and clever woman of about five-and-twenty years. She was head-teacher to the Upper School; thoroughly understood English literature and history, and was also a charming companion to the older girls. She had been carefully trained, first at St. Hilda’s at Cheltenham, and then at Girton College. She had now been only a year and a half at The Red Gables, but already her influence in the school was strongly felt. The next teacher, who exercised an enormous influence over the girls, was Miss Archdale, the head-teacher in the Lower School. Then there was Mademoiselle France and Fräulein Stott; these good women taught in both schools, the Lower and Upper. Miss Smith was a sort of nurse-teacher to the little ones. She was beloved by all the children, and more particularly by the small girls. In addition, there was the housekeeper, who had charge of the commissariat of the establishment; but Miss Smith was the one to whom the sick and weary invariably went, and they never went in vain. A German teacher of the name of Herr Harleigh used to come twice a week to instruct the higher forms in German; he also taught music; and there was Monsieur Romanes, a Frenchman, who taught French in the Upper School, and painting as well.

The names of the special girls who figure in this story were, first of all, Alison Maude. She was the head-girl of the school; was tall, graceful, and just eighteen years of age. She would leave The Red Gables in another year, and the rest of the girls did not know how they could ever get on without her. Her dearest friend was Molly Wyndham, but she was also fond of Jessie. Both these girls had been for a couple of years now in the Upper School. Then there was Bridget O’Donnell, the Irish girl about whom Jessie and Molly had spoken. Bridget was absolutely charming. She was the life and fun of the place; her laughter was most infectious, and her jokes were inimitable. She was a perfect lady and yet she was also a perfect Irishwoman; she would not give up her native land for all you could offer her. She was extremely pretty, with the dark-blue eyes which are the sure accompaniment of the true Irish maiden; but, unlike poor little Peggy, her hair was black as jet and grew in profusion to far below her knees. Her complexion was that of the brunette; she had a vivid colour in her cheeks, and lovely crimson lips with a little dimple at the right corner, which, when she smiled, gave the final touch to her charms.

Marcia and Angela Welsh were also members of the Upper School; and, being Mary’s sisters, it was impossible for them to be anything but lively and charming girls. They were fairly good-looking without being the least beautiful. They were well-informed for their age, without having any one special talent; in short, they were ordinary, very nice, trustworthy everyday sort of girls. Although they had Irish blood in their veins, they had, unlike Mary, never lived in the dear old country. They were accustomed, however, to small means, to the hard work which falls to the lot of girls who belong to a big family where riches are unknown, and where it is only just possible by the utmost economy to make two ends meet. Marcia was fourteen and Angela sixteen; but, in mentioning the two, Marcia was invariably spoken of before Angela, because she had far more character than her sister.

The Red Gables was an expensive school, and it would have been quite impossible for Marcia and Angela Welsh to have gone there had not Mrs. Fleming taken them practically without payment. Mrs. Welsh had been a pupil of her dear mother, and this good woman was in consequence only too anxious to help her friend. Marcia and Angela had received a long letter from Mary with regard to Peggy, and were in consequence all agog to see her, although they knew that as Peggy would be in the junior school they would not, under ordinary conditions, have much to say to her.

And now to speak of that Lower School, where the little Irish girl was to dwell, was to cast off that curious and yet fascinating sense of humour and peculiarity of language, which kept her apart from ordinary girls in that new class of life where she was expected to walk. The Lower School would, indeed, not prove itself a bed of roses for poor Peggy. There was one girl who considered herself, whether rightly or wrongly, the captain of the school. Her name was Kitty Merrydew; she was twelve years old, and some people said that those glorious, great dark eyes, that exceedingly dark skin, that hair of jetty black, the rich, deep colour in each rounded cheek, pointed to Spanish ancestors. Whatever her birth may have been, there was no doubt of one thing, she was exceedingly mischievous, and her mischievous ways were joined to an amount of cunning which made her young companions afraid of her—that is, those who were not on her side. Kitty was far too clever to be found out by her teachers. She was small and very slender. Her nickname in the school was The Imp, although a few of the more venturesome of the girls called her The Brat. In very truth, Kitty Merrydew deserved both these names, and if Mrs. Fleming had had the slightest idea of this strange girl’s influence over her younger pupils she would have dismissed her at once; but Kitty was one of the people it is exceedingly difficult to understand. Before her teachers and in the presence of the head-mistress she could only be regarded as a gentle, low-voiced, rather sweet-looking girl, a girl decidedly handsome, given to change colour violently, and, in consequence, to be considered rather delicate; the sort of girl to be adored by her mistresses and masters, because lessons, however difficult, were a mere nothing to The Imp. She drank in all instruction as a thirsty child will drink water, she played beautifully both on the piano and violin, she recited with such exquisite pathos that those who listened to her felt tears at the back of the eyes; and yet there was not one girl in the whole school who did not know well that The Brat or The Imp was up to mischief; so she had her own way with all those with whom she came in contact, making them her slaves, and daring them to defy her, or, as she expressed it, “to tell tales out of school.”

Kitty Merrydew’s special friends were Grace and Anne Dodd. They were both of them exceedingly plain and exceedingly wealthy; they were dull-looking girls, and not only looked dull but were dull; nevertheless they were invaluable to The Imp, who used them on all occasions as her tools.

The youngest child in the school was a most lovely little creature of about six years of age. Her name was Elisabeth Douglas. Her father and mother had to leave her behind when they went to India; and little Elisabeth, who had been an only darling, and a much petted and much loved treasure, very nearly broke her little heart when she found herself alone at The Red Gables. All that money could do was done for Missy Elisabeth’s comfort, and in particular she had a black servant who had been her “Nanny” all her life to wait on her. It was very unwillingly that Mrs. Fleming consented to the admission of Chloe into the school; but at last she agreed that the woman should remain with the child for the first year, and after that time she might see her during the holidays. Little Elisabeth had her own bedroom, where she and Chloe slept; Chloe curled up on a mat by the door, and the little one lying fast asleep in her pretty cot, which the mulatto ayah had decked most fancifully with curtains of the softest white muslin, looped up with many-coloured ribbons.

When little Elisabeth arrived at the school The Imp began by sneering and laughing at her; but after a very short time she changed her tactics, for she perceived an expression in Chloe’s eyes and a certain watchful manner which made the clever Imp see that she had met her match. Accordingly The Imp took up little Elisabeth, and the child quickly yielded to her fascinations. Elisabeth was the sort of little girl who might be described as an angel. She had great, dark-blue eyes, which looked strangely dark in that fair little round face; the pupils of the eyes were very much distended, and the eyelashes were long and very dark. Above the eyes were delicate, soft brows, most beautifully marked, the little mouth was a rosebud, and when she laughed there issued from those small lips a peal of something like angel’s bells. Nevertheless, little Elisabeth was by no means in the best place in the world for either her education or happiness, and all this was caused by the secret and pernicious influence of Kitty Merrydew.