It was on the occasion of a final visit to town, two days before the removal, that Mrs Asplin surprised Peggy by expressing a desire to bear her company.
“I have several things to do, and I should like to go when I can have your help,” she said; and the vicar’s face instantly assumed an expression of the profoundest dejection. He knew that his wife’s expeditions into town invariably demanded toll in the shape of a nervous headache the next day, and hastened to raise his usual note of protest. Why need she go? Could she not send her order by post, or could not Peggy buy what was wanted? Why tire herself needlessly, when she had no strength to spare? She knew very well—“How unwell I shall be!” concluded his wife for him with a laugh. “Really and truly, Austin dear, I want to do something this time that no one else can do for me. I’ll promise to be careful, and drive about all the time, and get a good lunch.”
“Penny omnibuses, and tea and scones! I know your days in town. Ah, well, a wilful woman must have her way! If you have made up your mind to go, it’s no use arguing; but I don’t know what it can be you need so badly. We seem to have everything we need.”
“Blessed, blessed, ignorance of man!” cried Peggy, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “It’s all very well for you, sir, who can never wear anything but a black coat and hat, but consider the fascinations of summer fashions to poor defenceless women! Mrs Asplin and I want to look at the shops, and groan in chorus over all the distracting fripperies which we want so badly, and can’t afford. We pretend we have weighty business; but that is the true explanation, isn’t it, dear?”
“Oh yes—I love shop windows!” replied Mrs Asplin vaguely. She had wandered to the window, and stood looking out on to the garden, with her back turned to her companions. Peggy would have followed, but, on her approach, the other walked quickly forward and began stooping over the flower-beds, and snipping off the withered blossoms. For some reason it was evident that she did not wish to be followed, and Peggy felt an uneasy pang at the sight of her flushed, exhausted face. During her lengthened visit to the vicarage she had become more and more conscious of the lack of strength shown by the dear mistress of the house. Her spirit was as cheery as ever, but she no longer raced up and down in her old impetuous manner, but rather spent half her time resting on the sofa, with the busy hands lying idly on her lap.
She did not like to make any protest, since Mrs Asplin’s mind was evidently set on going to town, but she privately registered a determination to charter a hansom by the hour, and see that the shopping expedition was conducted in the most luxurious manner possible.
It did not seem as if there was much to be done after all, for Peggy’s business being concluded, her companion invested in a yard of ribbon, and some Berlin wool, and then pronounced her shopping finished.
“But there is something else I have to do, dear,” she explained, catching the girl’s glance of amazement. “The real reason why I came up to-day was to see a doctor. I did not wish to distress them at home, but I’ve not been feeling well, Peg; I have not been well for a long time. I have made an appointment with a doctor in Harley Street, and if you will go with me I’ll be very grateful. I am not nervous, but—but it feels a little bit lonesome to go alone!”
She turned her face towards the girl and smiled at her, with sweet, tired eyes, and Peggy’s heart gave a sickening throb of apprehension. She put out her hand and slid it lovingly through the other’s arm.
“Of course I’ll go, and proud that you ask me! Poor darling! so that is the way you do your shop-staring! It is just like you to allow yourself to be blamed, rather than give pain or anxiety. I thought you were looking ill, and am so glad you have made up your mind to consult a first-rate man. He will find out what is the matter, and put you right again in no time.”