The next day brought the visit to London to a conclusion, but Peggy said her adieux with the pleasant expectation of meeting her friends again before many weeks were over. When Parliament rose, Arthur would be free, and had agreed all the more willingly to come down to Yew Hedge, as Rosalind and her father would at that time be visiting Lady Darcy in Switzerland. An invitation to Eunice for the same time had also been eagerly accepted, and Peggy was full of rose-coloured schemes for the amusement of her guests.
“Picture to yourself, my dear,” she cried tragically, “that never yet have I had the pleasure of entertaining a friend in my own domain! I don’t know if you will enjoy yourself, but I am sure that I shall. I have views on the subject of hospitality, and am anxious to test them. So I shall treat you like a puppet, and play all sorts of experiments on you to try the effect. I should wish you to feel tired sometimes in the morning, and stay in bed to breakfast, so that I could wait upon you, and to be too lazy to dress yourself now and again, so that I could arrange your hair in different styles. If you could manage to be a little ill, it would be charming, for then I could nurse you and be severe about your diet, but if you keep wen, we will make the best of it, and entertain the neighbourhood. I’ll set to work at once to plan something original and startling.”
“Oh, do!” cried Eunice eagerly. “I’d love to be startled. I shall look forward to coming every single day until the time arrives, and be the most obedient of puppets. You are a dear, Peggy—I do love you! I’m so grateful to you for being kind to me.”
“It’s my nature, dear. Go on deserving it. Three remarks at least I insist upon at every meal, and if you could increase the number to six, I should be correspondingly gratified. Don’t stare at the carpet, don’t look frightened when there is nothing to be frightened at, and look after my beloved brother for my sake. Those are my last instructions for your guidance. Arthur feels lonely sometimes, just as you do, and it would help you both if you would talk to him sometimes, or, still better, let him talk to you. Men, my dear,” sighed Miss Peggy with an air of experience, “men like nothing better than to talk of themselves with a woman as audience. Ask questions about his work, his plans, his thoughts, and he will go on talking happily, so long as you will sit and listen to him. You could do that, at least, if you could not talk yourself.”
“Oh yes, easily. I’d like it. I love to hear him talk,” assented Eunice naïvely. She fixed her soft shy eyes upon Peggy’s face as she spoke, and that young lady felt that she had shown her usual shrewdness in suggesting such an arrangement, for a sweeter confidante it would have been difficult to find, or one more ready with sympathetic interest.
With her usual tactfulness Eunice declined to accompany Peggy to the station, so that her presence should put no check upon the last conversation between brother and sister, but no reference was made on either side to the event of two days before. Arthur seemed anxious to talk on impersonal subjects, so they discussed the old friends and their doings—Esther and her theories, Mellicent and her romances, and sent affectionate memories after the two absentees, Rex working his uphill way in the world, and Oswald in his luxurious home. It was always a happy task to recall bygone days, and the “Do you remember?” filled up the conversation until the last moment arrived, and Peggy leant out of the carriage window looking down upon Arthur with an anxious scrutiny. The dear face looked worn and thin, and the forehead showed a couple of lines which she had never seen before.
“Oh, Arthur, I wish I were staying longer, or that you were coming home with me!” she cried impetuously. “I can’t bear leaving you alone just now. You need to be petted and coddled and made a fuss of, you dear old boy, and I am desolated that I can’t do it! What is the use of having a sister, if she can’t do anything for you when you are in trouble?”
“She has done a great deal for me already, and is such a sympathetic person, Peg, that I am afraid she would spoil me altogether if she had her way! It’s just as well that we have to be separated for a time, for the less I think of myself the better. It can do no good, and only unfit me for work. I’m going to set my teeth and begin afresh. Consolation prohibited, my dear, but hints for support and occupation thankfully received!”
And then had Peggy an inspiration! A flash of mischievous enjoyment lit up the hazel eyes, but before Arthur had time to discover it, it had disappeared and been replaced by an innocent little smile.
“You might do a good turn to Eunice by cheering her up after my loss! It would be beneficial for you to make the effort, and the Rollos would be grateful. It is not easy to make her talk, but you would find it worth the effort, for she has sweet thoughts, and—on occasion—a pretty little wit of her own!”