Read Ebook: All that happened in a week by Findlater Jane Helen Petherick Rosa C Illustrator

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Ebook has 354 lines and 19597 words, and 8 pages

Aunt Euphemia expected her to taste it and declare she couldn't take it; but Peggy drank the medicine right off without a word, and lay down again.

"Poor little soul! Keep her in bed to-morrow, and I fancy she will be all right next day," said the doctor.--"Good-night, Peggy; go to sleep, and if you are quite well on Thursday when I come you shall have a ride on my horse."

These were the last words Peggy heard, and she fell asleep very soon, and slept all night long.

It is horrid to be kept in bed when one feels quite well. Peggy wanted to get up and go out next day, and instead, had to lie still with nothing to amuse her. The bed she was in was of a kind you never see nowadays, with four huge mahogany pillars supporting red damask curtains. It was just like sleeping in a tent.

Peggy found that by sitting high up on the pillows she could see out of the window. The sea was right in front of the house, and a little harbour filled with ships. There was a funny noise always going on at the harbour, and Martin told her it was the ships being loaded with coal. In the evening, just when Peggy was very dull, she saw a ship with great white sails come floating along. There was scarcely any wind, so every one of the sails was up, and it looked like a big white bird. Then, as it came near the mouth of the harbour, it stood quite still in the water, and a little steamer went puffing out to it. A rope was thrown to the ship, and by this rope it was towed into the harbour. Peggy could hear the men calling out to one another and laughing.

"Maybe, if you are good, Miss Peggy, I'll take ye down to the harbour one day," said Martin.

"Might I get on to one of the ships?" Peggy asked.

"No, no--dirty places--all coal-dust; whatever would Miss Roberts say to that?"

"Oh, but I would like to be on a ship, and the coal-dust would do me no harm," pleaded Peggy.

"There's nothing but dirty Germans on the ships, Miss Peggy--speaking like monkeys, and rings in their ears--Spanish, and Dutch, and Italian, some of them. No, no; it's no place for you!"

Dr. Seaton came on Thursday, and by that time Peggy was quite well, and out of bed again.

"May I take her down the avenue on my horse, Miss Roberts?" he asked of Aunt Euphemia. "I promised her that I would."

"Oh, don't trouble with the child," said Aunt Euphemia. "I mean to take her for a drive with me this afternoon."

There was a moment's pause, and Peggy looked very hard at Dr. Seaton--very hard indeed. A drive with Aunt Euphemia would be quite different from a ride with him, she thought.

"Mayn't I take her? She shall not get into any mischief," he said.

Dr. Seaton's horse was tied to a ring at the door--a high, gray beast. It had taken a mouthful of the earwig roses, and was munching away at them when Peggy came down the steps.

"O horse, there are such lots of earwigs in these roses," she said in disgust, "I am sure they can't be nice to eat!"

Dr. Seaton laughed, and told Peggy the horse didn't mind the taste of earwigs a bit. Then he lifted her up on to the shiny saddle that made a nice creaking noise, and gave her the reins into her own hands, while he held her on. The horse stepped away down the avenue so obediently, just as if he were quite accustomed to having Peggy on his back. It was delightful, being so high up, and feeling the horse move. Peggy thought it made up for the wasps.

"I'm glad the wasps made me ill," she said, "or I wouldn't have had this ride."

At the gate they came in sight of the sea, and Peggy remembered what Martin had told her.

"Oh, Martin told me the men on the ships talked like monkeys and had rings in their ears," she said, "and I want to see them."

"Have you never been on a ship?" Dr. Seaton asked.

"No, never. The sea doesn't come near home, you know," Peggy explained.

"Well, would you like to come with me some day on to one? Would Aunt Euphemia let you? I go to see a boy with a broken arm on one of the ships. I'll take you, if your aunt lets you come."

Peggy was quite sure now that it was worth while being ill. Dr. Seaton lifted her down off the horse, and told her to run back up the avenue.

"I'd like just to kiss the horse's nose first," she said. "He has been so nice."

But Dr. Seaton suggested it would be wiser to pat him--just in case he were to bite; so Peggy contented herself with this, and then ran away up the avenue as pleased as possible.

"Martin will put on your hat and jacket, Peggy, and you will come out for a nice drive with me at three o'clock," said Aunt Euphemia at lunch. This seemed a pleasant thing to do, but Peggy did not look pleased. She sat quite still and made no answer.

"Don't you wish to come?" asked Aunt Euphemia at last.

"No," said truthful Peggy. The fact was, she had found such a delightful new game that she wanted to go on playing it all the rest of her life.

"What would you do if you stayed at home?" asked Aunt Euphemia.

Peggy would not say. It spoils a game so much to explain it to other people.

"I'd just like to stay and play in the garden," she said.

Aunt Euphemia was not at all pleased. She thought it was because Peggy did not love her that she refused to go out with her.

"Very well," she said; "of course, I do not wish to take a little girl with me who does not care for me."

Peggy felt sorry, but she couldn't explain; it would have spoilt everything, you know. She stood on the steps and watched Aunt Euphemia drive away, and then she clapped her hands, and danced off into the garden. A flight of old stone steps led down from one part of the garden to another; beside the steps there was a rockery, and Peggy had found among the stones a lot of lumps of soft white chalk.

She could make her fingers as white as snow by gently rubbing the chalk over them, but the nicest thing to do with it was to pound it down into a lovely soft powder with another stone. Peggy sat on the lowest step of the stone stair and pounded the chalk on the step above her. It was delightful to do. Among the powder she found here and there a little white stone. She called them pearls, and decided to make a collection of them, so that she might string them into a necklace. It was not every lump of chalk that had a white stone in it, however, as she soon found out. But this only made it more exciting. The time slipped away so fast at this game that Peggy couldn't believe that it really was the tea-bell she heard. "Why, auntie must have come home," she thought, "and I must go in for tea now; but I can come out and hunt for pearls again after tea." She gathered up her little white stones in her hand, and went slowly into the house counting them over in her palm.

"Peggy!" cried Aunt Euphemia.

Peggy had walked into the drawing-room, still counting the treasures.

"Yes, auntie," she replied. "Oh, do look at my pearls!"

"I'll look first at your dress, Peggy. What have you been doing to it? I never saw a child like you for getting into mischief. Ring the bell, and come here and tell me how you have destroyed your frock."

Peggy looked down. The front of her blue serge frock was covered all over with chalk. She seemed to have rubbed it into the stuff in the strangest way. She was as white as a miller.

"O auntie, I'm sorry! It's the chalk," Peggy cried.

"What chalk? Where did you get chalk, and how did you smear it over yourself in this way?" asked Aunt Euphemia.

"I was finding pearls--such lovely pearls. I am going to make a necklace of them; see!" said Peggy, holding them out to her aunt to be admired.

"Just bits of stone. What nonsense! Throw them out of the window," said Aunt Euphemia. She was much displeased.

Peggy was very obedient. It did not occur to her to refuse to throw the pearls away. She walked across to the open window, and flung them out with scarcely any hesitation; but, oh dear, what it cost her! Such a sore lump came into her throat, and she kept swallowing it down so hard. Then Martin came in, looking very cross, and carrying a large cloth-brush, and she was taken to the front door and brushed, and brushed, to get the chalk away.

Peggy made no answer. Her throat was too sore with trying not to cry. For nothing else seemed as if it would give her any pleasure again if she wasn't allowed to pound chalk and find pearls.

Now I must tell you about something naughty that Peggy did. This was how it came about.

All the rest of the evening Aunt Euphemia and Martin seemed to think that Peggy was in disgrace, because she had spoilt her frock, and perhaps also because she was a little bit sulky. It is a horrid thing to sulk. It does no good; but often one wants to do it so much. Aunt Euphemia went and sat out in the garden after tea, and made Peggy sit beside her playing with a doll, and all the time she was anxious to be pounding chalk instead, so she didn't care in the least for her doll. The only thing she could do was to pretend that she was very angry with the doll, and beat it severely several times. But even this did not make the evening pass quickly. It was a terribly hot day, and that made Peggy feel cross also. After supper Aunt Euphemia read aloud what she thought was a nice story to her; but Peggy didn't care about it in the least, and at eight o'clock she was put to bed by Martin, who was still rather grim.

Peggy's room was on the ground floor, and had a great big window. She asked Martin to let her keep the blind up, so that she might look out and see the ships if she wasn't asleep; but Martin said that if she wasn't asleep she should be, and drew down the blind. Peggy fell asleep pretty soon after this; but it was so hot that she soon woke and sat up in bed. It must have been only two or three hours since she went to bed, for it was still a soft dusk outside, as it often is between ten and eleven o'clock on a mid-summer night.

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