"You dear, good woman! God bless your kind heart!" said Mrs. Saville brokenly. "I can't help breaking down, but, indeed, I have much to be thankful for. I can't tell you what a relief it is to feel that she is in this house. The principals of that school at Brighton were all that is good and excellent, but they did not understand my Peggy." The tears were still in her eyes, but she broke into a flickering smile at the last word. "My children have such spirits! I am afraid they really do give more trouble than other boys and girls, but they are not really naughty. They are truthful and generous, and so wonderfully warm-hearted. I never needed to punish Peg when she was a little girl; it was enough to show that she had grieved me. She never did the same thing again after that; but—oh, dear me!—the ingenuity of that child in finding fresh fields for mischief! Dear Mrs. Asplin, I am afraid she will try your patience. You must be sure to keep a list of all the breakages and accidents, and charge them to our account. Peggy is an expensive little person. You know what Arthur was."
"Bless him—yes! I had hardly a tumbler left in the house," said Mrs. Asplin, with gusto. "But I don't break my heart about a few breakages. I have had too much to do with schoolboys for that. And now give me all the directions you can about this precious little maid while we have the room to ourselves."
For the next hour the two ladies sat in conclave about Miss Peggy's mental, moral, and physical welfare. Mrs. Asplin had a book in her hand in which from time to time she jotted down notes of a curious and inconsequent character. "Pay attention to private reading. Gas-fire in her bedroom for chilly weather. See dentist in Christmas holidays. Query: gold plate over eye-tooth? Boots to order, Beavan & Co., Oxford Street. Cod-liver oil in winter. Careless about changing shoes. Damp brings on throat. Aconite and bella-donna." So on, and so on. There seemed no end to the warnings and instructions of this anxious mother, but when all was settled as far as possible, the ladies adjourned into the schoolroom to join the young people at their tea, so that Mrs. Saville might be able to picture her daughter's surroundings when separated from her by those weary thousands of miles.
"What a bright, cheery room," she said smilingly, as she took her seat at the table, and her eyes wandered round as if striving to print the scene in her memory. How many times, as she lay panting beneath the swing of the punkah she would recall that cool English room, with its vista of garden through the windows, the long table in the centre, the little figure with the pale face and long plaited hair, seated midway between the top and bottom. Oh! the moments of longing—of wild, unbearable longing, when she would feel that she must break loose from her prison-house and fly away, that not the length of the earth itself could keep her back, that she would be willing to give up life itself just to hold Peggy in her arms for five minutes, to kiss the dear sweet lips, to meet the glance of the loving eyes——
But this would never do! Had she not vowed to be bright and cheerful? The young folks were looking at her with troubled glances. She roused herself and said briskly—
"I see you make this a playroom as well as a study. Somebody has been wood-carving over there, and you have one of those dwarf billiard-tables. I want to give a present to this room—something that will be a pleasure and occupation to you all; but I can't make up my mind what would be best. Can you give me a few suggestions? Is there anything that you need, or that you have fancied you might like?"
"It's very kind of you," said Esther, warmly; and echoes of "Very kind!" came from every side of the table, while boys and girls stared at each other in puzzled consideration. Maxwell longed to suggest a joiner's bench, but refrained out of consideration for the girls' feelings. Mellicent's eager face, however, was too eloquent to escape attention.
Mrs. Saville smiled at her in an encouraging manner.
"Well, dear, what is it? Don't be afraid. I mean something really nice and handsome; not just a little thing. Tell me what you thought?"
"A—a new violin!" cried Mellicent eagerly. "Mine is so old and squeaky, and my teacher said I needed a new one badly. A new violin would be nicest of all."