“Thank you, doctor,” she murmured once more; and a moment later Peggy and Mrs Asplin were in the passage, following the old butler towards the door. It seemed years and years since they had paced it last, but nothing had changed. The man let them pass out without a glance in their direction, as though it were the most commonplace thing in the world for people to receive a death-warrant in the course of half an hour’s visit. The pavement outside was flooded with sunshine, carriages were driving to and fro; two men walking along together broke into a peal of laughter as they passed; a newsboy shouted out some item of popular interest. Nobody knew, nobody cared! The great, noisy, cruel world jostled on its way as if such things as death and parting had no meaning in its ears. Peggy’s young heart swelled with bitterness. She dared not speak to Mrs Asplin, dared not trust her own voice, but she drew the thin hand through her arm, and gripped it with passionate fervour. They walked on in silence the length of the block, then stopped instinctively, and exchanged a long, earnest look. Mrs Asplin’s eyes were shining with a deep inward glow, the colour had come back to her cheeks, her expression was calm and peaceful.
“Peggy, child!” she exclaimed softly; “you are so white! This has been a strain for you, dearie. You must have lunch at once.”
Even at this supreme moment of her life her first thought was for others, not herself!
Chapter Thirteen.
The pre-occupation of Peggy’s manner during the next week was easily attributed to the responsibility of superintending the settling down in the new house. From morning until night she was rushing about from one worker to another, planning, instructing, superintending, and when night came she crawled into bed, a weary, sore-footed little mortal, to fall asleep before her head well touched the pillow. The revelation of Mrs Asplin’s danger lay like a shadow across her path, but beyond a few brief words in the train, the subject had never been mentioned between them after leaving the doctor’s study.
“I hope I have not been selfish, Peggy, in taking you with me to-day,” Mrs Asplin had then said anxiously. “I can only tell you that you have helped me greatly, and thank you with all my heart for your sympathy. Later on, dearie, we will have a talk together, and I will tell you what is in my mind; but first of all I must fight my own battles, and gain the prize of which the doctor spoke. ‘The quiet mind,’ Peg! When that comes, it will take away the sting!”
That was all, nor through the weeks that followed did ever a word or a look in the presence of her family betray the dread that lay at Mrs Asplin’s heart. Peggy, running in and out of the vicarage, would always find a smile awaiting, and a cheery word of greeting. At first she felt awkward and constrained, but by degrees the first painfulness of the impression wore away, and with the natural hopefulness of youth it seemed that the doctor must have taken an unnecessarily gloomy view of the case, since a patient in so precarious a condition could surely not be so bright, so cheery, so interested in the affairs of others! On her first few visits to the vicarage, the girl had felt that it would be sacrilege to smile or jest as of yore, but it was impossible to keep up this attitude when Mrs Asplin herself sparkled into mischief and led the bursts of laughter. That dreadful half-hour grew more and more unreal, until at times it seemed a veritable dream.
A fortnight after the removal into Yew Hedge, a letter arrived from Mrs Rollo, inviting Peggy to come up to town on a two or three days’ visit, to attend some festivities, and enjoy her brother’s society. Arthur had not been able to leave town during the last few weeks, and the desire to see more of him, and to be able to help him if possible, were powerful inducements in his sister’s mind. She anxiously considered if by any possibility the household could exist deprived of her important services, and slowly accepted the assurance that it could! The furniture had been arranged, pictures hung and re-hung, and what remained to be done in the way of blind-fitting, curtain-hanging, and the like, could surely be managed without the assistance of a master mind. She was sorry to leave the dear, new home, but three days would quickly pass, while, apart from the joy of seeing Arthur, it would be delightful to get to know something more about that baffling personage, Miss Eunice Rollo.