“Eh? Who is that—?” Sir Ludovic roused up as if he had been asleep; “you, little Peggy?”
“Yes; were you sleeping? I wondered and wondered that you never saw me.”
“I don’t think I was asleep,” he said, with a little confusion. “To tell the truth, I do get drowsy sometimes lately, and I don’t half like it,” he added, in an undertone.
“You don’t like it?” said Margaret: she was not uneasy, but she was sympathetic. “But then don’t do it, papa; come and take a little walk with me”—(here she paused, remembering that to-night, for instance, Sir Ludovic would have been much out of place), “or a turn in the garden, like John.”
Sir Ludovic paid not much attention to what she said: he rubbed his eyes, and raised his head, shaking himself with a determination to overcome the drowsiness, which was a trouble to him. “You must sit with me more, my little girl, and make a noise; a little sound is life-like. This stillness gets like”—(he made a pause; was the first word that occurred to him an unpleasant one, not such as was agreeable to pronounce?)—“like sleep,” he added, after a moment, “and I have no wish to go to sleep.”
“Sleeping is not pleasant in the daytime,” said Margaret, unintentionally matter-of-fact. The old man gave a slight shiver, which she did not understand. It was no longer the daytime with him, and this was precisely why he disliked his unconscious doze; was it not a sign that night was near? He raised himself in his chair, and with the almost mechanical force of habit began to turn over the leaves of the book before him. It was evident he had not heard her appeal. She stood by for a moment not saying anything, then pulled his sleeve gently.
“Papa! it was something I had to say.”
“Ay, to be sure. You wanted something, my little Peggy? what was it? There are not many things I can do, but if it is within my power—”
“Papa! how strange to speak to me so—you can do everything I want,” said the girl. “And this is what it is: I want—don’t be very much astonished—to learn to draw.”
“To draw? I am afraid I am no good in that respect, and cannot teach you, my dear.”