quoted Peggy with an air, and Rob nodded approval.
"That's it! That's the style! Something with a bit of a sermon in it to keep 'em up to the mark for the day. Bravo, Mariquita! you'll do it splendidly. That's settled then. We shall have to work hard, for there is only a month before the thing must be sent off, and we must finish in good time. When you leave things to the last, something is bound to come in the way. It will take an age to write out three hundred and sixty-five extracts."
"It will indeed, for they must be very nicely done," said Peggy fastidiously. "Of course it is most important that the extracts themselves should be good, but it matters almost as much that they should look neat and attractive. Appearances go such a long way." And when Robert demurred and stated his opinion that the judges would not trouble their heads about looks, she stuck firmly to her point.
"Oh, won't they though. Just imagine how you would feel if you were in their position, and had to look over scores of ugly uninteresting manuscripts. You would be bored to death, and after plodding conscientiously through a few dozen, you would get so mixed up that you would hardly be able to distinguish one from another. Then suddenly—suddenly"—Peggy clasped her hands with one of her favourite dramatic gestures—"you would see before you a dainty little volume prettily written, easy to read, easy to hold, nice to look at, and do you mean to say that your heart wouldn't give a jump, and that you would not take a fancy to the writer from that very moment? Of course you would, and so, if you please, I am going to look after the decorative department and see what can be done. I must give my mind to it——Oh! I'll tell you what would be just the thing. When I was in the library one day lately I saw some sweet little note-books with pale green leaves and gilt edges. I'll count the pages, and buy enough to make up three hundred and sixty-five, and twelve extra, so as to put one plain sheet between each month. Then we must have a cover. Two pieces of cardboard would do, with gilt edges, and a motto in old English letters, 'The months in circling orbit fly.' Have I read that somewhere, or did I make it up? It sounds very well. Well, what next?" Peggy was growing quite excited, and the restless hands were waving about at a great rate. "Oh, the pages! We shall have to put the date at the top of each. I could do that in gold ink, and make a pretty little skriggle—er—'arabesque,' I should say, underneath to give it a finish. Then I'd hand them on to you to write the extracts in your tiny little writing. Rob, it will be splendid! Do you really think we shall get the prize?"
"I mean to get it! We have a good library here, and plenty of time if we like to use it. I'm going to get up at six every morning. I sha'n't fail for want of trying, and if I miss this I'll win something else. My mind is made up! I'm going to buy that microscope!" Robert tossed his head and looked ferocious, while Peggy peered in his rugged face, and womanlike admired him the more for his determination.
They lingered in the garden discussing details, planning out the work, and arranging as to the different books to be overlooked until the tea hour was passed, and Mrs. Asplin came to the door and called to them to come in.
"And nothing on your feet but your thin slippers? Oh, you Peggy!" she exclaimed in despair. "Now you will have a cold, and ten to one it will fly to your throat. I shall have to fine you a penny every time you cross the doorstep without changing your shoes. Summer is over, remember. You can't be too careful in these raw, damp days. Run upstairs this minute and change your stockings."
Peggy looked meek, and went to her room at once to obey orders; but the mischief was done, she shivered and could not get warm, her head ached, and her eyes felt heavy. Mrs. Asplin looked anxiously at her in the drawing-room after dinner, and finally called her to her side.
"Peggy, come here! Aren't you well? Let me feel your hand. Child, it's like a coal! You are in a fever. Why didn't you tell me at once?"
"Because I—really, it's nothing, Mrs. Asplin! Don't be worried. I don't know why I feel so hot. I was shivering only a minute ago."