"Now for it!" cried Maxwell, and they looked at one another in silence, knowing full well what would happen next. Mrs. Asplin would think an introduction to her young friends the best distraction for the strange girl, after her mother's departure, and the next item in the programme would be the appearance of Miss Peggy herself. Esther rearranged the scattered tea-things; Oswald felt to see if his necktie was in position, and Robert hunched his shoulders and rolled his eyes at Mellicent in distracting fashion. Each one sat with head cocked on one side, in an attitude of eager attention. The front door banged, footsteps approached, and Mrs. Asplin's high, cheerful tones were heard drawing nearer and nearer.
"This way, dear," she was saying. "They are longing to see you."
The listeners gave a simultaneous gulp of excitement, the door opened, and—Peggy entered!
She was not in the least what they had expected. This was neither the fair, blonde beauty of Maxwell's foretelling, nor the small, black-haired elf described by Mellicent. The first glance was unmitigated disappointment.
"She is not a bit pretty," was the mental comment of the two girls. "What a funny little soul!" that of the three big boys, who had risen on Mrs. Asplin's entrance, and now stood staring at the newcomer with curious, bashful eyes.
Peggy was slight and pale, and at the first sight her face gave a comical impression of being made up of a succession of peaks. Her hair hung in a pigtail down her back, and grew in a deep point on her forehead; her finely marked eyebrows were shaped like eaves, and her chin was for all the world like that of a playful kitten. Even the velvet trimming on her dress accentuated this peculiarity, as it zigzagged round the sleeves and neck. The hazel eyes were light and bright, and flitted from one figure to another with a suspicious trinkling, but nothing could have been more composed, more demure, or patronisingly grown up than the manner in which this strange girl stood the scrutiny which was bent upon her.
"Here are your new friends, Peggy," cried Mrs. Asplin cheerily. "They always have tea by themselves in the schoolroom, and do what they please from four to five o'clock. Now just sit down, dear, and take your place among them at once. Esther will make room for you by her side, and introduce you to the others. I will leave you to make friends; I know young people get on better when they are left alone."
She whisked out of the room in her impetuous fashion, and Peggy Saville seated herself in the midst of a ghastly silence. The young people had been prepared to cheer and encourage a bashful stranger, but the self-possession of this thin, pale-faced girl took them all by surprise, so that they sat round the table playing uncomfortably with teaspoons and knives, and irritably conscious that they, and not the newcomer, were the ones to be overcome with confusion. The silence lasted for a good two minutes, and was broken at last by Miss Peggy herself.
"Cream and sugar!" she said, in a tone of sweet insinuation. "Two lumps, if you please. Not very strong, and as hot as possible. Thank you! So sorry to be a trouble."
Esther fairly jumped with surprise, and seizing the teapot, filled the empty cup in hot haste. Then she remembered the dreaded airs of the boarding-school miss, and her own vows of independence, and made a gallant effort to regain her composure.