"Soap must be clean, mustn't it?" said Peggy, laughing. "But don't tell the boys, pelease, dear Miss Earnshaw. I do so want to 'apprise them. I can get the pipes to-morrow morning. I know where to get them," and quite happy, Peggy trotted off to take out her money-box and look to be quite sure that the three pennies and three halfpennies were there in safety, where for some weeks they had been waiting.
"Bless her heart," said the young dressmaker. "She is the sweetest little innocent darling that ever lived."
After looking over her pennies Peggy turned to the window. No, none of the Smileys were to be seen.
"Never mind," said Peggy to herself. "I'll p'raps see them to-morrow when I go for the pipes. I almost hope it'll be a wet day. It will be so nice to blow soap-bubbles. Only," and she sighed a little, "it does seem such a very long time since I sawed the white cottage."
To-morrow was rainy, very rainy, with no look of "going to clear up" about it. The boys grumbled a good deal at breakfast at the doleful prospect of a dull half-holiday in the house.
"And papa's going away to-day till Monday," said Thorold; "so there'll be no going down to the dining-room to sit beside him while he's at dinner for a change."
"Poor papa," said Peggy, "he'll get very wet going such a long way."
"Nonsense, you little goose," said Thor, crossly. "People don't get wet in cabs and railway carriages."
"I forgot," said Peggy, meekly.
"You shouldn't call her a goose, Thor," said Terence. "It's very disagreeable to travel on a very rainy day. I've often heard people say so."