And he looked at Emmie’s photograph standing in a silver frame upon his mantelshelf, and remembered the piteous smile with which she had told him that everything must now be over between them, and mentally renewed his vows of fealty before he went round to “look up Peggy.�
The rooms occupied by the late Sergeant Donohoe were three—a kitchen and two bedchambers. One of these latter, Peggy, with the assistance of Mrs. Quartermaster Casey, a dozen yards of cheap Liberty muslin, a gross of Japanese fans, one or two pieces of Oriental drapery, and a few articles of furniture of the tottery bamboo kind, had converted for the time being into a boudoir. Only for the time being, she said to herself, because when she got her rights she would enjoy all the splendors now usurped by the real Peggy Donohoe—Miss Emmie, as she called the usurper when she forgot, which was not often. She would dress for dinner every evening, and attend balls and theaters in low-necked, long-trained frocks, chaperoned by Lady Alured, adorned with the late Mrs. Rufford’s diamond stars, and attended by Captain Gerry Garthside, V. C. For not one, but all the possessions held and prerogatives hitherto enjoyed by the false Miss Rufford would naturally devolve to the real one, once formally recognized and received by her papa and the regiment; the “ould duds� and bits of sticks once pertaining to the supposed Margaret Donohoe being transferred to the veritable Peggy, together with all rights in Private Dancey Juxon, V. C. The topsy-turvy, comic-operatic whimsicality of her own idea did not appeal to Peggy’s sense of humor. She was very much in earnest as she waited for her visitor, seated in state upon one of her own ornamental chairs, her red hands—hands which could not be transferred to the real Peggy Donohoe with the other things—folded in her lap.
“She’s here, Captain,� Mrs. Quartermaster Casey—retained as chaperon until Lady Alured should awaken to a sense of her duties—had said, opening the door.
“Oh, Captain,� said Peggy, rising coyly, “is it yourself?�
And, owning the soft impeachment as he squeezed the red hand (Gerry Garthside’s manners to the plainest woman were fatally caressing), the Captain inquired how he could serve her.
“Sure,� said Peggy, making play with her fine eyes, “you’ll maybe thinking me forward, Captain, for makin’ the first sign. But me papa—the Major—will be takin’ up a great dale of me toime by-an’-by, and wid Mrs. Casey sittin’ in the kitchen widin call, we’re givin’ no handle to the tongue of scandal, as the sayin’ is——�
“My dear Miss Peggy!—� the Captain was beginning, when Peggy took him up short.
“I’ll trouble you,� she said, “to remimber that I’m not takin’ any more Peggy from anywan, high or low, an’ I’d be glad it was ginerally known. ‘Miss Emmeline,’ or ‘Emmie’ for short, you’re free to use, or any pet name ye may pick.� She cast a languishing glance upon Captain Gerry. “I’m not likely to quarrel wid it�—she moved nearer—“or wid you. Och, thin! but ’tis quare how things have turned round wid me! Peggy Donohoe a week ago, an’ walkin’ out wid Dancey Juxon—an’ now—the Major’s daughter, an’ your promised bride, Captain jewel! Sure ’tis like a dhrame, it is!�
And Peggy rested her rather large head upon the shoulder of the astonished Captain, who hastily withdrew the support.
“Look here, Peggy, my girl!� he said hastily. “What’s this notion you’ve got into your noddle? You don’t think....�