brought in, and ransack my cupboards to see what treats I
can give you. Poor dears, it _is_ dull for you sitting indoors all day
long. We must think of some bright, exciting games for this evening."
No sooner said than done; she did not wait until Mary appeared, but
bustled off to meet her, to enlist the cook's sympathy, and put out the
promised delicacies, and when the table was set she returned to the room
and seated herself, smilingly, in Esther's place.

"I am going to stay with you this afternoon," she said brightly. "Draw
up your chairs, dears, and let us be jovial. There is no credit in
being happy when the sun is shining, as dear old Mark Tapley would have
said; but it will really be praiseworthy if we succeed in being festive
this afternoon. Come, Peggy, dearie!"

Peggy turned her dreary little face and stared at the table. From
outside came the sound of the opening and shutting of the door, of
footsteps in the hall. She glanced at the clock, wondering if it could
possibly be the postman already, found it was only ten minutes past
four, and dismissed the supposition with a sigh. "I don't--think--I
want--" she was beginning slowly, when, of a sudden, there came a
tremendous rat-tat-tat on the schoolroom door; the handle was not
turned, but burst open; a blast of chilly air blew into the room, and in
the doorway stood a tall, handsome youth, with square shoulders, a
gracefully poised head, and Peggy Saville's eave-like brows above his
dancing eyes.

"Oh, what a surprise!" came the cry in loud laughing tones. "How do you
do, everybody? Just thought I would step in as I was passing, and have
a cup of tea, don't you know."

"My boy! My boy! Oh, how good to see you!" cried Mrs Asplin
rapturously. Mellicent gurgled with surprise, and Peggy stood up by her
chair and stretched out both arms like a child to its mother.

"Arthur!--oh--Arthur!" she gasped, and there was a pathos, a longing, an
almost incredulous rapture in her voice which made the tears start in
Mrs Asplin's eyes, and brought a cloud of anxiety over the new-comer's
face.

"Why, Peg!" he cried. "My little Peg! Is something wrong, dear? You
look as melancholy as--"

"Peggy has not been like herself for the last few weeks. I think she
has had an attack of homesickness and longing for her own people. I'm
so glad you've come. You will do her more good than a dozen tonics.
Bless the boy; how big he is! And how did you manage to get a