“But we could not expect to find what we wanted the very first day,” Peggy reminded herself cheerily. “Besides, Mellicent is coming! That is quite enough happiness for one day. In two more hours she will be here. I’ll go downstairs at five o’clock, and wait for her in the hall.”
When five o’clock arrived, however, a brother officer came to call upon Colonel Saville, and Peggy was delayed several minutes longer than she intended, so that when she repaired downstairs it was a little past the hour when Mellicent was due. It was quite likely that the train had been behind time, or that difficulties in getting luggage put on a cab might have delayed her arrival, and Peggy devoutly hoped that this had been the case, so that she might still be in time to give a friendly welcome. The hall was, as usual, crowded with visitors. An American contingent chatted merrily together in one corner; a French marquise stared around through a gold-rimmed lorgnette; and the usual array of family parties lolled on ottomans and sofas, scrutinising the passers-by, and exchanging whispered criticisms, which were neither so complimentary nor so subdued as might have been desired. A stout lady and two slim daughters, looking more like fashion-plates than Peggy could have believed it possible for any human creatures to do, stood discussing a knotty point together in the centre of the floor, their voluminous skirts shutting out the view beyond.
Peggy made a détour to the side, caught sight of a broad, blue serge back, looking broader than ever from contrast with sylph-like forms, a coil of yellow hair beneath a sailor hat, and the side of a crimson cheek. Mellicent! Of course it was Mellicent! There she stood, the poor dear thing, a statue of misery in the midst of the fashionable crowd, a roll of shawls clutched in one hand, her dress thick with dust, and her hair blown into disorder. The critics on the benches sniggered and whispered to one another, and the French marquise examined her through the lorgnette with unconcealed amaze; but at the sight of the familiar figure Peggy’s heart leapt within her, for she saw again the ivy-covered vicarage, and the shabby, sunny schoolroom in which she had spent such happy days. A hand clutched Mellicent’s arm in ecstatic grasp, and a tremulous voice spoke in her ear.
“Mellicent, darling! Is it really you?”
“Oh, my goodness, Peggy, have you come at last? Nobody knew where you were, and they said they’d send, and it’s simply awful the way these wretches stare!” cried Mellicent in a rush, “They sit round in rows, and glare as if they had nothing in the world to do but quiz the poor new arrivals as they come in at the door.”
“Which, my dear, is precisely the state of the case. It is disconcerting, especially when you arrive in the evening, after a tempestuous Channel passage, and step into a hall aglow with diamonds and eye-glasses; but turn about is fair play!” cried Peggy reassuringly. “To-morrow you and I will quiz in our turn, and just think how we shall enjoy it. Father and I have sat together for hours, criticising and inventing histories, and you have no idea how entertaining it is. You’ll simply love it.”
“No, I sha’n’t. It’s unkind and cruel, and must make people simply dread coming in. If I were the manager, I wouldn’t allow it!” declared Mellicent in righteous wrath; then her eyes turned to her companion, and a tardy realisation of the position seemed to dawn upon her. “Oh, Peggy!” she cried, and again, “Oh, Peggy! I’m so glad to see you again. It has seemed such a long, long time since you went away, and there was no one like you—no one who could ever take your place.”
Peggy gave an affectionate little grip to the blue serge arm, but made none of the protests which usually follow such an announcement. Modesty not being her strong point, she saw no reason to dispute Mellicent’s assertion, so smiled instead, and cried reassuringly:
“Never mind, I’m back again now, and never going away no more! Dear old Chubs, you look so fresh, and pink-and-white and Englishy, that it does me good to see you. This is our sitting-room, and you must come in and say how do you do to father and mother, and have some tea. Father is going out with a friend presently, and mother will have a rest in her bedroom, so we shall have a cosy little chat by ourselves. Don’t look alarmed! They are not a bit fierce, I assure you, but a most mild and agreeable old couple.”
As she spoke Peggy threw open the door of the sitting-room, and the mild and agreeable couple bestowed the kindliest of greetings upon their young visitor; but the surroundings were all so strange and formal that country-bred Mellicent was overpowered, and could only blush and stammer in school-girl fashion. Her own perfect consciousness of the fact added fuel to her embarrassment, and a full-length mirror at the opposite side of the room presented such an exasperating contrast of rustic awkwardness and dainty grace, as she and Peggy stood side by side, that her heart died down within her. Poor Mellicent! her new coat and skirt had been made by the very best dressmaker in the village, and had been considered a miracle of elegance by the admiring home circle; so that she had looked forward to making quite a triumphant entrance, and now here she was, looking her very worst, and conscious of a dozen shortcomings as she looked at her friend’s graceful figure. Peggy’s features still retained their miniature-like faultlessness of outline, her pretty hair was coiled about her head in fantastic fashion, she bore herself with even more than the old assurance, and rustled about the room in a gown of Parisian manufacture. A little chill of strangeness and depression settled down on Mellicent’s spirits. For the last month she had lived in constant expectation of this visit, had built a fairy edifice of dreams concerning it, and already the foundations were beginning to totter. The great hotel, with its crowd of critical inmates, was terrifying to the country-bred girl, the graciousness of her host and hostess appeared formal, when compared with the warm-hearted cordiality of her Irish mother, and even Peggy herself seemed transformed into another person. It was no longer Peggy, it was Mariquita, and Mariquita a dozen times more self-possessed and imposing than in the days of old.