icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Peggy

Chapter 2 THE BOX FROM FERNLEY.

Word Count: 3371    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

e purposes of transportation. It was neatly and carefully made,

his!" said Bertha. "It would be

ls bent eagerly forward. Nothing was visible but white paper, neatly fitted to the top of the box. Yes! on the

t is Margaret!" she said. "Dear, darling Margaret, the best friend I have in the world.

hton. Yet both girls lingered a mo

y lifted the paper, and lo! more paper, but this time envel

it, because she said she had never seen enough in her life. Oh, what a f

I will not! I never heard of such a thin

tted in long stripes of red and blue, the col

ht. "My dear, it warms the whole room! and the length of it, and the

rk" ever since she first heard that Peggy was going to s

d Bertha. "My de

of them, each prett

und the room. "There's no sign of a sofa. Never mind! they are perfect

, and there was indeed a bookcase, not very large, but still

asked Bertha, innocently

ful dunce," she added, timidly. "I might as well tell you now, for you'd find it out

being a bookworm herself. "But there mus

easure Island,' and 'Robin Hood,' and that kind of thing. But history, and the Waverley Novels-why,

ut Bertha only laughed. "Well, I love the Waverleys very much myself," she said; "but I

such a waste of time; except Coues, of course, and he would

asked Bertha, puzzle

know! Oh, I couldn't

said you lived on a farm. You mean that y

he explained that she meant Prof. J. E

oo valuable. Besides, he isn't so thorough as Coues, don't you know, especially in anatomy

OOK AT THIS

w! Peggy Montfort, you are not a dunce at all; you are ju

ible literature and stuff that I cannot bear. But we can't stop and talk, with the box only half unpack

gnault. The great horses rearing and plunging, the heroic figure of the charioteer, seemed to take Peggy's breath. "It-it's the kind of thing you dream abou

ne. She had less to say to the beautiful photograph of the Sistine Madonna, which came next; yet she looked at it with eyes of wistful affection. It was Margaret's favourite picture, and she loved it on that account as

r delightful "Peggy-lark," as he called it. "The Sistine by all means, Meg; but no more old masters for our

!" said Margaret, rather ruefully. "I suppose you are right, Uncle John; bu

Mr. Montfort, dryly. "You know Peggy is str

ef. "Oh, if you are going to put false ideas into her head, Uncle John-" on

osen in any picture-shop; and at sight of i

shall I do? Oh, Margaret,

cry, dear!" she said. "I know! I know just

rls, because I shall be going home every vacation, you know. But I never was so happy i

t of a tall man in a black velvet coat, with bright dark eyes; the other a slender girl with a sweet, thoughtful face. Both se

-glad!" she said. And Bertha s

dered with gold-coloured chrysanthemums; item, a wonderful work-basket, fitted with everything that a needlewoman's heart could desire; item, a spirit-lamp and a hot-water bottle, and a neat little tool-chest. Peggy sighed

and make something this very day. Only, these two dears have sent me everything th

hion or mattress of chintz, chrysanthemums again, on a pale green ground;

something; and this is the cushion, and the rest is for a flounce and curtains. Oh, dear, did you ever hear of anything so perfectly lovely? Dear Uncle John, de

! We must get these all arranged before tea, mu

sire. The pictures were hung (I forgot to mention that the fairy box contained picture-hooks and wire, hidden away in a corner), the cushions fitted, the chintz

th shining eyes. "When the curtains are up-"

ertha, "it will be one of the plea

sounded, and the

up with their own concerns, laughing and chatting, hurrying to their places; yet Peggy felt as if all

you here, Pegg

t I sit by you?" asked poor P

e, Miss Russell is beckoning to you. You are to sit at her table, with the

to the table where the Principal sat. There were six tables, twelve girls to each table, with a teacher at the head. Miss Russell greeted Peggy pleasantly, and it

day you did not meet your classmates, who had already gone to their rooms. Miss Parkins, Miss Barclay, Mis

felt as strange as she did. In fact, Miss Parkins, who sat on her left, was so manifestly and miserably frightened

d dropped it into her own plate. The other freshmen giggle

doing all the time. There is the salt; why, I can reach it myself

ggy's own eyes almost overflowed. She put her hand under the table, found a little limp, cold paw, and ga

s time. They were only freshmen like herself. Any one of them might have choked just as well as she, and she was bigger than any of them. If those other girls had seen, now! not Bertha, but the other two! She glanced over to the opposite table, where the two V's sat

ars, in her clear piping voice. "

ct with a momentary look of vexation. "It does sound rather horrid!" she thought. "I wonder if I shall have to give up

came together with a violent crack. "Ow!" cried Peggy, and rubbed her flaxen poll vigorously. Miss Parkins was too frightened to know whether she

she would try to put some spirit into her. Her own spirit was rising. She felt that ten pairs of eyes were watching her furtively; that her companions were taking notes, and that

ll reddish-brown eyes that looked as if they had always been given to crying. The child-she did not look more than a child-had no beauty of any kind; yet a certain gentleness of look redeemed the poor little face from absolute ugliness. She was queerly dressed, too. Her gown was of good, even rich material, but in questionable taste, a

glances of amused contempt thro

he thought, "why I shoul

, or the day before?" she aske

in a gasping whisper. This was not v

o come? I came all

I don't t

here. It's horrid travellin

know! I nev

el kindness to pursue the conversation. "I needn't talk to the others," she s

ng for her; but at that moment two or three girls swooped down upon the junior, and began a hubbub of questions. Peggy felt all her shyness rushing back in a flood. Turning to flee, she almost fell over little M

last night. Don't you think I might go to my room?

mpathy. "It's a pity if you've got to hear readi

oment one of the teachers happened to pass by. She was a long, sallow woman, with greenish

e said. "Your expression is an improper one, Miss Mon

us me!" whispered P

ly. "She's going to read to-night, because the Principal

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open