"I wish to speak to you about the event of last night, my dear. I am afraid that you hardly realise the matter in its true light. I was not at all pleased with the manner in which you gave your explanation. You appeared to imagine that you had done something clever and amusing. I take a very different view. You showed a reprehensible carelessness in trifling with medicines in the dark; it might have caused you your life, or, at best, a serious injury. As it was, you brought pain upon yourself, and gave us all a serious alarm. I see nothing amusing in such behaviour, but consider it stupid, and careless to an almost criminal extent."
Peggy stood motionless, eyes cast down, hands clasped before her, a picture of injured innocence. She did not say a word in self-defence, but her feelings were so plainly written on her face that the Vicar's eyes flashed with impatience.
"Well, what have you to say?"
Peggy sighed in dolorous fashion.
"I am sorry; I know it was careless. I am always doing things like that. So is Arthur. So was father when he was a boy. It's in the family. It's unfortunate, but——"
"Mariquita," said the Vicar sternly, "you are not sorry! If I had seen that you were penitent, I should not have spoken, for you would have been sufficiently punished by your own sufferings, but you are not sorry; you are, on the whole, rather proud of the escapade! Look into your own heart and see if it is not so?"
He paused, looking at her with grave, expectant eyes, but there was no sign of conviction upon the set face. The eyes were still lowered, the lips drooped with an expression of patient endurance. There was silence in the room while Peggy studied the carpet, and the Vicar gazed at her downcast face. A moment before he had been on the verge of anger, but the sternness melted away in that silence, and gave place to an anxious tenderness. Here was a little human soul committed to his care—how could he help? how best guide and train? The long, grave face grew beautiful in that moment with the expression which it wore every Sunday as he gazed around the church at the beginning of the sermon, noting this one and that, having a swift realisation of their needs and failings, and breathing a prayer to God that He would give to his lips the right word, to his heart the right thought to meet the needs of his people. Evidently sternness and outspoken blame was not the best way to touch the girl before him. He must try another mode.
"Peggy," he said quietly, "do you think you realise what a heavy responsibility we laid upon ourselves when we undertook the care of you for these three years? If any accident happened to you beneath our roof, have you ever imagined what would be our misery and remorse at sending the news to your parents? About their feelings I do not speak; you can realise them for yourself. We safeguard you with every precaution in our power; we pray morning and night that you may be preserved in safety; is it too much to ask that you will do your part by showing more forethought, and by exercising some little care in the daily duties of life? I ask it for our sakes as well as your own."
A faint pink flush spread over Peggy's cheeks; she gulped nervously and raised her eyes to the Vicar's face. Twice her lips opened as if to speak, but the natural reserve, which made it agony to her to express her deepest feelings, closed them again before a word had been spoken. The question was not answered, but a little hand shot out and nestled in Mr. Asplin's with a spasmodic grip which was full of eloquence.