“Laughing? What for? Don’t you like them then? You saucy child, and I thought they were so nice!”
“Oh, mater dear, and so they are—in their present condition; but the idea of converting them into fashionable new garments is too funny altogether. You might as well try to cut up an oak-tree into fancy borderings. Leave them as they are, dear, and lend them to me, so that I may dress up and amuse my people. Then they will be doing real good work.”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind. Much obliged to you for the suggestion, but I can make better use of them than that. You are as bad as Mellicent, laughing at my poor old treasures. I don’t know what the world is coming to, I’m sure. Such upsetting notions the young folks are getting.” Mrs Asplin swept up the despised trophies in her arms, and bustled out of the room with a show of displeasure, which, truth to tell, had little effect upon the culprit. It was not the first, nor the second, nor the twentieth time that a similar scene had been enacted, for “mother’s resurrections” were a standing joke in the Asplin family, and the final fate thereof an open secret. However lofty might be the first suggested use, the end was always the same. Her offerings scorned by ungrateful relatives, she took refuge in dusters, and patiently hemmed squares of the rejected fabrics, with which to enrich the already lordly store of these useful commodities. On the present occasion she had hardly passed the door before she had decided that for drawing-room use nothing was really so good as a soft silk duster. The fate of the old check skirt was sealed!
The summer passed away very rapidly for Peggy, dividing her time between two happy homes, on both of which the sun shone as brightly and continuously as in the world without, and shadows seemed for the present to have hidden themselves away. Colonel and Mrs Saville were full of delight in their new home, and the sense of rest and security which came from being settled down in England, with their children beside them. Arthur’s prospects improved from day to day as he became more widely known and appreciated, while Peggy was an hourly comfort and delight. Her post as only daughter was no sinecure, for a delicate mother left all the household management in her hands, while an exacting father grumbled loudly if she were not ready to bestow her company upon him at a moment’s notice. Like most men who have lived in India and have been accustomed to an unlimited number of native servants, Colonel Saville was by no means easy to satisfy. He expected the household arrangements to move along as if on oiled wheels, whereas, needless to say, a ménage over which Miss Peggy presided, was subject on the contrary to some painful vicissitudes. When the post of housekeeper had been deputed to her, Peggy had been greatly elated by her increased importance, and with characteristic modesty had expatiated upon her peculiar fitness for the post, and declared her intention of exhibiting a really well-conducted establishment to the gaze of the world. She provided herself with a huge account book, marched about the house jingling an enormous bunch of keys, and would allow no one else but herself to weigh out provisions in the store-room. The first week’s bill made Colonel Saville open his eyes, but his daughter explained with much suavity that, living so far from shops of every description, it was necessary to lay in a large stock of dried goods, so that one should be able to supplement a meal on the arrival of unexpected visitors, and also be independent of the vagaries of parcel post. This was an unanswerable argument, and the colonel was the more inclined to acquiesce, since the menus of the last week had been all that even his exacting taste could desire.
There were few things which Peggy could not manage to accomplish if she gave her mind to the subject, and while the novelty of the charge lasted she spared neither time nor pains to ensure success. The morning’s consultation with the cook was a solemn function with which nothing was allowed to interfere. New and fantastic arrangements of flowers graced the dinner-table each day, and the parlour-maid quailed before an eye which seemed able to descry dust in the most out-of-the-way corners.
For the first week, then, all went well, and the new housekeeper sunned herself in an atmosphere of praise and congratulation. The colonel tugged his moustache and vowed that at this rate she would beat the “boy” who had managed his Indian home. Mrs Saville murmured:
“My darling, you are so clever! I can’t think how you do it!” and the cook said that she had seen a deal of the world, and knew her way about as well as most, but never, no never, had she met a young lady with her head screwed so straight on her shoulders.
Protestations, however, do not go on for ever, and it is astonishing how speedily a new regime loses its novelty, and is taken as a matter of course. When Peggy had been in command a fortnight, no one thought of praising her efforts any more, or of expressing satisfaction at their result. It was simply taken for granted that she would fulfil her duty without any more being said on the subject. She had been congratulated on her start, and that was all that was required. One could not be expected to lay daily tribute of praise at her feet. Unfortunately, however, this was just what Miss Peggy did expect, and in proportion as the applause died away, so did her interest in her duties. It grew monotonous to weigh out everlasting stores: dinners and lunches seemed to come round with disgraceful rapidity, and the question of food absorbed an unreasonable amount of time out of one’s life. Cook looked askance when two courses were suddenly cut off the evening dinner, and cold meat ordered as the pièce de résistance at lunch, hut there were worse things in store!
There came a morning when she waited for her young mistress’s appearance until ten o’clock came, and eleven, and twelve, and waited in vain, for Miss Peggy was far away, scouring the country on her bicycle, with never a thought for home duties until a spasm of hunger brought with it a pang of recollection. Horrors! she had forgotten all about the morning’s orders and here it was close upon lunch-time, and her father doubtless already wending his way home, hungrily anticipating his tiffin.
Surely, surely cook would rise to the occasion and arrange a menu on her own account! Peggy comforted herself in the certainty that this would be the case, the while she pedalled home as fast as wheels would take her. But she was mistaken in her surmises. Mistress Cook had no idea of being played fast and loose with in this haphazard fashion, and having, moreover, been elaborately snubbed on a previous occasion when she had ventured to advance her own views, was not altogether unwilling to avenge her dignity now that opportunity had arisen.