Peggy stood still in the doorway, an icy chill crept through her veins, her hands grasped the lintel, and her eyes grew wide and blank with horror. There, on the writing-table lay a brown paper parcel—the precious parcel which contained the calendar which had been the object of such painful work and anxiety!
Chapter Seventeen.
Peggy is lost.
Arthur Saville waited in vain by the schoolroom fire, for his sister did not join him. And when he entered the dining-room in response to the summons of the gong, she had not yet made her appearance.
Mrs Asplin looked at him with uplifted brows.
“Where is Peggy?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since she went upstairs. The little wretch can’t have hurried very much.”
“She hasn’t been with you, then! Never mind, there is plenty of time to come. She must be making a special toilet for your benefit.”