“God bless you, child!” he said softly, and laid a tender hand on her cheek. The bud had blossomed into a flower; the little school-girl whom he had loved so well had grown into a woman, and her early grace and charm were sweet in the old man’s sight. He thanked God for them, as he thanked Him for all beautiful things—the sunshine which gave colour to the flowers, the green restfulness of the land, the song of the birds in the trees. “You are very welcome, dear. It does me good to see you among us once again.”
“And looking so well. You are quite blooming, Peggy; and so smart as she is too! Deary, deary me, is that what they call the fashion?” cried Mrs Asplin, holding the girl in outstretched arms, and turning her slowly round and round, to take in the details of her attire. “You look so spruce, child, that I hardly knew you; but there, it won’t be long, I expect, before the true Peggy peeps out. Come in, darling. There’s a new rug in the hail; don’t trip over it! We have been saying we needed it for five years back, but it was bought only last week, to smarten the house for your coming. Those are Esther’s certificates in the corner, and you must see the new cretonne in the drawing-room. All the chairs are recovered. We finished them only last week.”
“Tut, tut!” cried Peggy, and shook her head in dismay at such reckless extravagance. She had not had a chance of exchanging any further greeting with Rob than a smiling nod, while she and Esther cast curious glances at one another across the room, renewing the impressions of their first meeting. Peggy thought it one of the prettiest sights in the world to see Mrs Asplin hang on to the vicar’s arm and drag him with her about the house, forgetful of everything but her instinctive desire to be near him in her rejoicing; the prettiest thing in the world to see the tenderness in his eyes. She looked at them mischievously, and then of a sudden her own eyes began to blink, for all those four years of absence had left their mark on the dear faces; they had changed as well as herself; but with them it was not the blossoming of the bud into the flower, it was rather the losing of those last leaves which had lingered from life’s summer. The vicar’s shoulders were more bowed; the lines on his face more deeply graven; his wife’s hair had grown silvery about the temples, and the pathetic, tired look in the grey eyes must surely be permanent nowadays, since not even the excitement of meeting could chase it away. She was even sweeter-looking than of old, but had she always been so thin, so transparently delicate in colour? Do what she would, Peggy could not keep back her tears, and Mrs Asplin caught sight of them, and produced her own handkerchief in instant response.
“Ah, Peg, I know what you are thinking. The old home is not like itself without the boys. I feel it too, dear, I feel it too. Not a single boy would we have had in the place, if Rob had not taken pity on us, bless him! It seems so strange after having had so many of them all these years.”
“It seems very quiet and peaceful, if you ask me! and if I’m not a boy, I’ve been away, and I do think I deserve a little attention!” cried Mellicent, aggrieved. “If it had been Max who had come home, you wouldn’t all be crying and moaning for the girls. You would forget there were such things in the world. It’s not our fault that we happen to be girls, and we have our feelings all the same. No one speaks to me! No one says they are pleased to see me! No one makes the slightest fuss because I am home!”
“Darling!” cried her mother, and rushed to take her in her arms. “My precious baby, I’m just delighted to have you back; but you know how it is—the thought of old times made me sad for the moment. We seemed such a small party without the boys.”
Mellicent grimaced and hitched her shoulders in petulant fashion. Then she looked at Peggy, and a flash of amusement passed from eye to eye.
“Let’s have tea!” she said shortly. “It’s good for the spirits, and we are both hungry. It’s to be in the schoolroom, I suppose, mother, as we asked. Peggy died to have tea there again, and was so afraid that it would be laid out in style in the drawing-room that she made me ask you to have it exactly the same as in the old times. I told her it was no use, that you would have out all the best things, whatever we said.”
“But you didn’t, Mrs Asplin, did you? There are halfpenny buns, aren’t there, and scones, and damson jam, and the old thick cups and saucers?”
“Bless me, no, child! The very best china; cakes from Buzzard’s, with icing on the top, strawberries and cream, and every luxury you can imagine. The schoolroom, yes; but you don’t suppose I’d feed my prodigal on halfpenny buns! Come and see all the good things that are waiting;” and Mrs Asplin led the way towards the schoolroom, with the complacent air of a housekeeper who has reason to be satisfied with her preparations, while the two girls followed with elbows in suspiciously close proximity. Another moment and the door was thrown open, when Mrs Asplin immediately gave a shriek of surprise, and fell prone against the wall. There stood the long table, set out with flowers and silver, and, in the centre seat, sat a handsome frock-coated figure, with every dish and plate of edibles massed around him in a solid circle of temptation. The silver cake-basket was in the centre, plates of scones, macaroons, and biscuits bordered each side; while the interstices were filled in with bowls containing jam and fruit. On his own plate there were piled at one and the same moment, a meringue, a slice of plum cake, two biscuits, and a jam tart, and, in default of tea, he had filled his cup from the cream jug, and was even at this moment wiping the tell-tale drops from his moustache.