Arthur turned aside, as if the last word had been spoken on the subject; but Peggy suspected a deeper meaning to Mrs Asplin’s words, and hung back on her way to the gate, to link her arm in that of her kind friend, and beg for an explanation.
“Oh, Peg, it’s the sea, the cruel sea!” cried Mrs Asplin then. “I have such a terror of the water since my boy was drowned! It’s over ten years ago now, but it’s as fresh with me as if it had been just yesterday. My bonnie boy! You never saw him, Peg, but he was my first, and even Rex himself was never quite the same. It’s foolish of me, and sinful into the bargain, for you are in God’s keeping, wherever you may go, and it would be selfish to spoil your enjoyment. I will try to overcome my fear, but, Peggy dear, you know what good reason I have for dreading suspense just now—and as you love me, don’t let them miss that train! If you were late, if you didn’t appear at the right time, I should be terrified, and imagine all sorts of horrors. I—I don’t know what would happen to me! Let nothing, nothing make you late. Remember me, Peg, in the midst of your pleasuring!”
“Mater, I will!” cried Peggy solemnly. She looked in the sweet, worn face, and her heart beat quickly. A hundred resolutions had she made in her life, and alas! had also broken, but this time it would go hardly with her if she neglected her vow to her second mother.
Chapter Twenty Four.
The next morning Peggy and Eunice converted the library into a work-room, and cut out their blouses by the aid of paper patterns borrowed from Mrs Saville’s maid. This dignitary had made several offers of help, which had been courteously but firmly refused, for the two new hands were determined to accomplish their task unaided, and thereby to secure the honour and glory to themselves.
“The first step is easy enough. Any baby could cut out by a pattern!” Peggy declared, but an hour’s work proved that it would have required a very intelligent baby indeed to have accomplished the feat. It was extraordinary how confusing a paper pattern could be! The only thing that seemed more confusing than the pattern itself was the explanation which accompanied it. Peggy tossed the separate pieces to and fro, the while she groaned over the mysterious phrases. “‘Place the perforated edge on the bias of the cloth!’ Which is the perforated edge? Which is the bias? ‘Be careful to see that the nicked holes come exactly in the middle of—’ I don’t know in the least which they call the ‘nicked holes!’ I can’t think what is the use of half these silly little pieces. If I couldn’t cut out a pattern better than that, I’d retire from the business. Why can’t they tell you plainly what you have to do?”
So on she stormed, prancing from one side of the table to the other, shaking the flimsy sheets in an angry hand, and scattering pins and needles broadcast on the carpet, while Eunice, like the tortoise, toiled slowly away, until bit by bit the puzzle became clear to her mind. She discovered that one piece of the pattern stood for half only of a particular seam, while others, such as collar and cuffs, represented a whole; mastered the mystery of holes and notches, and explained the same to Peggy, who was by no means too grateful for her assistance.
“Well, I’ll take your word for it,” she said. “I myself can make nothing out of an explanation so illogical and lacking in common-sense. I’ll cut the stupid thing out as you say, and see what comes of it. Here goes—”