“I was not sure of coming, but I worked it somehow, for I could not wait an hour longer than was necessary. Peg, you’re a lady growed! I looks towards you! Oh, let us be joyful! This is grand to be together again, with no more miserable partings ahead. Welcome to England, mother! First step on the old land—eh? Feels nice and sound beneath your feet, doesn’t it? Just the sort of solid, durable old place to take root in after a roaming life!” And Arthur led his mother on shore, rattling away in his old merry style, though the tears shone in his eyes also, and his voice was not so clear as it might have been.
The years that had passed since he had seen his parents last had not been altogether easy ones for him. He had had to face the bitterest disappointment of his life, to adapt himself to a new and uncongenial sphere, and, in spite of all his courage, there had been moments when the task had seemed too heavy to bear. It had been an effort to write cheerfully, and to refrain from repinings over his lost hopes, but he had made the effort, and he was rewarded for his forbearance a hundred times over in this moment of meeting, as he noticed the hollows in his mother’s cheeks, and the grey locks on his father’s brow. It had been hard enough for them as it was. He was thankful he had not laid on them the additional burden of his own sufferings.
The reunited family travelled up to town together, and dined in a private room in the hotel, so that they might be able to talk without interruption. Arthur was, of course, the hero of the occasion, and was handed about from one to another of his adoring relatives in a manner which would have been amusing to an onlooker. First of all Mrs Saville claimed him, and they sat on the sofa together, stroking each other’s hands like a charming pair of lovers, as a mother and grown-up son should always be. Then she cast an apologetic glance at her husband, and made an excuse to move her position, when Colonel Saville took possession of his “boy,” and the two tall figures leant against the mantelpiece talking “manny talk,” as Peggy expressed it, and smoking their cigarettes. Finally it was Peggy’s own turn, and she sat perched on Arthur’s knee, gazing into the dear, handsome face which had always been her ideal of manly beauty.
“Fancy, Arthur, just fancy, we are grown-up ladies and gentlemen! I am twenty-one, and you are twenty-six! Doesn’t it seem wonderful? You look so handsome, dear, so big and important! I suppose you are important, aren’t you? What is your chief like? Does he appreciate you? Does he defer sufficiently to your advice? Between ourselves, the English Government isn’t so well managed as I could wish. There is a want of firmness in dealing with Foreign Powers which annoys me greatly. Next time you get into a muddle at the War Office, just tell them to apply to me, and I’ll set them straight! If I could get the chance of being Minister of War for a couple of days, I’d settle them! No shilly-shally for me I I’d show them how the thing ought to be done!”—and Peggy wagged her head in a fierce and defiant manner, which sent Arthur into a peal of laughter.
“Not any more burdened by modesty than you used to be, I perceive, young lady. I’ll be pleased to pass on your message. The chief is a conscientious fellow, and feels his responsibility so much that it will doubtless be a relief to him to know that Peggy Saville is to the rescue. I’ll introduce you to him some time soon, when you can have an opportunity of airing your views.”
“I should like that. I suppose we shall have any amount of invitations when we are really settled, but just at first we want to devote all our energies to house-hunting. We are going to drive to the agent’s first thing to-morrow morning, to see what he has to offer us, and then Mellicent arrives in the afternoon. You knew she was coming, didn’t you, and that I am going home with her at the end of a fortnight?”
Arthur chuckled softly to himself.
“Chubby in London! What delirious excitement! I must try to go about with you sometimes, for it will be great to hear her remarks. She has never been in town for more than a few hours at a time on a shopping expedition, and has everything to see. Chubby has developed into a very creditable specimen, I’d have you know, and she don’t appreciate being called Chubby no more. Consequently, I make a point of addressing her by no other name! When she gets into a rage she looks surprisingly like the fat little girl of a dozen years back.”
“Too bad!” cried Peggy, laughing. “None of that sort of thing while she is here, remember! No one shall tease my visitors but myself. I’m simply longing to see the dear old girl, and hear all the news about everybody. Rob is at The Cedars, they say, so I must wait to see him there, but Rosalind is in town. Oh, Arthur, do you see much of her? Do you meet her often? Is she a great beauty, and does every one talk about her and make a fuss of her wherever she goes, as we used to imagine they would do when she grew up? Do tell me all about Rosalind!”
Arthur’s face stiffened in a curious, unnatural fashion, and his lips lost their laughing curve, and grew straight and hard. The sparkle died out of his face, and he looked a boy no longer, but a man, and a man who had not found his life too easy. He was astonishingly like his father at that moment, and both mother and sister noted the fact.