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HOME > Classical Novels > About Peggy Saville > Chapter Nineteen. Rosalind’s Ball.
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Chapter Nineteen. Rosalind’s Ball.
In consideration of Arthur’s presence and of the late hours and excitement of the night before, the next day was observed as a holiday in the vicarage. Mrs Asplin stayed in bed until lunch-time, the boys went for a bicycle ride, and Peggy and her brother had a delightful chat together by the schoolroom fire, when he told her more details about his own plans than he had been able to touch upon in a dozen letters.

“The preliminary examination for Sandhurst begins on the 26th this year,” he explained, “and so far as I can make out I shall romp through it. I am going to take all the subjects in Class One—mathematics, Latin, French, geometrical drawing, and English composition; I’ll astonish them in the last subject! Plenty of dash and go, eh, Peggy,—that’s the style to fetch ’em! In Class Two you can only take two subjects, so I’m going in for chemistry and physics. I rather fancy myself in physics, and if I don’t come out at the head of the list, or precious near the head, it won’t be for want of trying. I have worked like a nigger these last six months; between ourselves, I thought I had worked too hard a few days ago; I felt so stupid and dizzy, and my head ached until I could hardly open my eyes. If I had not come away, I believe I should have broken down, but I’m better already, and by Tuesday I shall be as fit as a fiddle. I hope I do well, it would be so jolly to cable out the news to the old pater; and I say, Peg, I don’t mean to leave Sandhurst without bringing home something to keep as a souvenir. At the end of each Christmas term a sword is presented to the cadet who passes out first in the final exam.—‘The Anson Memorial Sword.’ Mariquita!”—Arthur smote his breast, and struck a fierce and warlike attitude,—“that sword is mine! In the days to come, when you are old and grey-headed, you will see that rusty blade hanging over my ancestral hearth, and tell in faltering tones the story of the gallant youth who wrested it from his opponents.”

“Ha, ha!” responded Peggy deeply. There was no particular meaning in the exclamation, but it seemed right and fitting in the connection, and had a smack of melodrama which was quite to her taste. “Of course you will be first, Arthur!” she added; “and, oh dear! how proud I shall be when I see you in all your uniform! I am thankful all my men relatives are soldiers, they are so much more interesting than civilians. It would break my heart to think of you as a civilian! Of course wars are somewhat disconcerting, but then one always hopes there won’t be wars.”

“I don’t!” cried Arthur loudly. “No, no—active service for me, and plenty of it!

    “‘Come one, come all, this rock shall fly
    From its firm base as soon as I!’

“That’s my motto, and my ambition is the Victoria Cross, and I’ll get that too before I’m done; you see if I don’t! It’s the ambition of my life, Peg. I lie awake and think of that little iron cross; I go to sleep and dream of it, and see the two words dancing before my eyes in letters of fire, ‘For Valour,’ ‘For Valour,’ ‘For Valour.’ Ah!”—he drew a deep breath of excitement—“I don’t think there is anything in the world I should envy, if I could only gain that.”

Peggy gazed at him with kindling eyes. “You are a soldier’s son,” she said, “and the grandson of a soldier, and the great-grandson of a soldier; it’s in your blood; you can’t help it—it’s in my blood too, Arthur! I give you my solemn word of honour that if the French or Germans came over to invade this land, I’d—” Peggy seized the ruler and waved it in the air with a gesture of fiercest determination—“I’d fight them! There! I’d shoot at them; I’d go out and spike the guns; I’d—I’d climb on the house-tops and throw stones at them. You needn’t laugh, I tell you I should be terrible! I feel as if I could face a whole regiment myself. The spirit—the spirit of my ancestors is in my breast, Arthur Reginald, and woe betide that enemy who tries to wrest from me my native land!” Peggy went off into a shriek of laughter, in which Arthur joined, until the sound of the merry peals reached Mrs Asplin’s ears as she lay wearily on her pillow, and brought a smile to her pale face. “Bless the dears! How happy they are!” she murmured to herself; nor even suspected that it was a wholesale massacre of foreign nations which had been the cause of this gleeful outburst.

Arthur left the vicarage on Tuesday evening, seemingly much refreshed by the few days’ change, though he still complained of his head, and pressed his hand over his eyes from time to time as though in pain. The parting from Peggy was more cheerful than might have been expected, for in a few more weeks Christmas would be at hand, when, as he himself expressed it, he hoped to return with blushing honours thick upon him. Peggy mentally expended her whole ten pounds in a present for the dear handsome fellow, and held her head high in the consciousness of owning a brother who was destined to be Commander-in-Chief of the British forces in the years to come.

The same evening Robert returned from his visit to London. He had heard of Peggy’s escapade from his father and sister, and was by no means so grateful as that young lady had expected.

“What in all the world possessed you to play such a mad trick?” he queried bluntly. “It makes me ill to think of it. Rushing off to London on a wet, foggy night, never even waiting to inquire if there was a return train, or to count if you had enough money to see you through! Goodness only knows what might have happened! You are careless enough in an ordinary way, but I must say I gave you credit for more sense than that.”

“Well, but, Rob,” pleaded Peggy, aggrieved, “I don’t think you need scold! I did it for you, and I thought you would be pleased.”

“Did you indeed? Well, you are mightily mistaken; I wouldn’t have let you do a thing like that for all the microscopes in the world. I don’t care a rap for the wretched old microscope.”

“Oh! oh!”

“In comparison, I mean. Of course I should have been glad to get it if it had come to me in an ordinary way, but I was not so wrapped up in the idea that I would not have been reasonable, if you had come to me quietly and explained that you had missed the post.”

Peggy shook her head sagely. “You think so now, because the danger is over, and you are sure it can’t happen. But I know better. I can tell you exactly what would have happened. You wouldn’t have stormed or raged, it would have been better if you had, and sooner over; you would just have stood still, and—glared at me! When I’d finished speaking, you would have swallowed two or three times over, as if you were gulping down something which you dared not say, and then turned on your heel and marched out of the room. That’s what you would have done, my dear and honourable sir, and you know it!”

Robert hung his head and looked self-conscious.

“Well, if I had! A fellow can’t hide all he feels in the first moment of disappointment. But I should have got over it, and you know very well that I should never have brought it up against you. ‘Glared!’ What if I did glare? There is nothing very terrible in that, is there?”

“Yes, there is. I could not have borne it, when I had been trying so hard to help you. And it would not have been only the first few minutes. Every time when you were quiet and depressed, when you looked at your specimens through your little old glass and sighed, and pitched it away, as I’ve seen you do scores and scores of times, I should have felt that it was my fault, and been in the depths of misery. No, no, I’m sorry to the depths of my heart that I scared dear Mrs Asplin and the rest, but it is a matter of acute satisfaction to me to know that your chance has in no way been hindered by your confidence in me!” and Peggy put her head on one side, and coughed in a faint and ladylike manner, which brought the twinkle back into Robert’s eyes.

“Good old Mariquita!” he cried, laughing. “&l............
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