she was one of the happiest girls in all the
world.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

ALAS, FOR ARTHUR!

A few days later Peggy was driven home to the vicarage, and stood the
drive so well that she was able to walk downstairs at tea-time, and sit
at the table with only a cushion at her back, to mark her out as an
invalid just recovering from a serious illness. There was a special
reason why she wished to look well this afternoon, for Arthur was
expected by the six o'clock train; and the candidate who had come out
first in his examination lists must not have his reception chilled by
anxiety or disappointment.

Peggy was attired in her pink dress, and sat roasting before the fire,
so as to get some colour into her cheeks. If her face were only the
size of the palm of a hand, she was determined that it should at least
be rosy; and if she looked very bright, and smiled all the time, perhaps
Arthur would not notice how thin she had become.

When half-past six struck, everyone crowded into the schoolroom, and
presently a cab drove up to the door, and a modest rap sounded on the
knocker.

"That's not Arthur!" cried Mrs Asplin confidently. "He knocks straight
on without stopping, peals the bell at the same time, and shouts
Christmas carols through the letter-box! He has sent on his luggage, I
expect, and is going to pounce in upon us later on."

"Ah, no, that's not Arthur!" assented Peggy; but Mr Asplin turned his
head quickly towards the door, as if his ear had caught a familiar note,
hesitated for a moment, and then walked quickly into the hall.

"My dear boy!" the listeners heard him cry; and then another voice spoke
in reply--Arthur's voice--saying, "How do you do, sir?" in such flat,
subdued tones as filled them with amazement.

Mrs Asplin and Peggy turned towards each other with distended eyes. If
Arthur had suddenly slid down the chimney and crawled out on the hearth
before them, turned a somersault in at the window, or crawled from
beneath the table, it would have caused no astonishment whatever; but
that he should ring at the bell, walk quietly into the hall, and wait to
hang up his hat like any other ordinary mortal,--this was indeed an
unprecedented and extraordinary proceeding! The same explanation darted
into both minds. His sister's illness! He was afraid of startling an
invalid, and was curbing his overflowing spirits in consideration for
her weakness.

Peggy rose from her chair, and stood waiting, w