wald was silent and subdued; and
even Robert said, "Humph--it's not so bad," a concession which turned
the girls' heads by its wonderful magnanimity.

Their triumph was almost sweeter than they had expected; but, truth to
tell, they had had too much of photography during the last week, and
Mrs Asplin's prophecy came true, inasmuch as it now ceased to become an
occupation of absorbing interest, and assumed its rightful place as an
amusement to be enjoyed now and then, as opportunity afforded.

CHAPTER NINE.

THE HONOURABLE ROSALIND.

By the beginning of October Peggy had quite settled down in her new
home, and had established her right to be Arthur Saville's sister by
convulsing the quiet household with her tricks and capers. She was
affectionate, obedient, and strictly truthful; her prim little face,
grandiose expressions, and merry ways, made her a favourite with
everyone in the house, from the vicar, who loved to converse with her in
language even more high-flown than her own, to the old North-country
cook, who confided in the housemaid that she "fair-ly did love that
little thing," and manoeuvred to have apple charlotte for dinner as
often as possible, because the "little thing" had praised her prowess in
that direction, and commended the charlotte as a "delicious confection."
Mrs Asplin was specially tender over the girl who had been left in her
charge, and, in return, Peggy was all that was sweet and affectionate,
vowed that she could never do enough to repay such kindness, and
immediately fell into a fresh pickle, and half frightened the life out
of her companions by her hairbreadth escapes. Her careless,
happy-go-lucky ways seemed all the more curious because of the almost
Quaker-like neatness of her appearance. Mellicent was often untidy, and
even Esther had moments of dishevelment, but Peggy was a dainty little
person, whose hair was always smooth, whose dress well brushed and
natty. Her artistic sense was too keen to allow of any shortcoming in
this respect; but she seemed blessed with a capacity of acting before
she thought, which had many disastrous consequences. She was by no
means a robust girl, and Mrs Asplin fussed over her little ailments
like an old mother-hen with a delicate nursling. One prescription after
another was unearthed for her benefit, until the washstand in her room
looked like a small chemist's shop. An array of doctor's tinctures,
gargles, and tonics, stood on one side, whi