Three Margarets

  CHAPTER II.

  FIRST THOUGHTS.

  "The eggs and the ham, And the strawberry jam; The rollicking bun, And the gay Sally Lunn."

  "Ting! ting-a-ling!" the silver tinkle sounded cheerfully. Margaret wasthe first to leave her room, punctuality being the third virtue of hercreed. She had changed her travelling-dress for a pretty dark redcashmere, which became her well; but Peggy, who came running down amoment later, still wore her ill-fitting frock of green flannel, thescant attractions of which were not enhanced by a soiled linen collar,which she had forgotten to change. The flyaway locks were indeed braidedtogether, but the heavy braid was rough and uneven.

  "Oh, you have changed your dress!" she cried, seeing Margaret. "Howpretty you look! I didn't have time to do anything. Say," she added,lowering her voice, "I think you are sweet, but I just hate that othergirl. _We_ sha'n't be fond of each other, you may be sure of that!"

  "My dear Peggy!" said Margaret, in gentle remonstrance. "You must notjudge a person on ten minutes' acquaintance. I am sure I hope you andRita will be very good friends. You certainly must admire her beauty."

  "Oh, she's pretty enough!" rejoined Peggy; "but I think she's perfectlyhorrid!--there now! Stuck-up and conceited, and looking at other peopleas if they were stone posts. And I am _not_ a stone post, you know."

  "You certainly don't look like one," said Margaret, laughing; "nor feellike one," she added, putting her arm around her cousin's plump waist.

  "But come! here is Elizabeth waiting to show us the dining-room.Elizabeth, we have had a good rest, and we are _so_ hungry."

  "This way, miss, if you please," said the grave Elizabeth. And she ledthe way across the hall. The dining-room was a pleasant square room,with crimson curtains closely drawn. There was no cloth on the darktable, which shone like a mirror, reflecting the blaze of the candles inmellow points of light. At the head stood a shining silver tea-serviceand a Dresden chocolate-pot, surrounded by the prettiest cups andsaucers that ever were seen; and a supper was laid out which seemed tohave been specially planned for three hungry girls. Everything good, andplenty of it.

  "My!" whispered Peggy, "isn't this fine? But how funny to have notable-cloth! We always have a red one at supper."

  "Do you?" said Margaret. "Papa always liked the bare table."

  "Will you take the head of the table, miss?" asked Elizabeth. "I haveset your place here, and Miss--"

  "Miss Peggy's," suggested Margaret gently.

  "Thank you, miss! Miss Peggy's at the side here."

  "Very well," said Margaret. "We shall sit just where you put us,Elizabeth. And Miss Rita will sit opposite me and carve the chicken. Oh,here she is! Rita, are you accomplished in the art of carving?"

  Rita, who now came gliding in, shook her head as she took the seatappointed her. "I have never attempted it," she said, "and don't think Icare to try, thanks! Take this to the sideboard and carve it," sheadded, addressing Elizabeth in a tone of careless command. The womanobeyed in silence; but the quick colour sprang to Margaret's cheek, andshe looked as much distressed as if the rude speech had been addressedto her.

  Peggy stared. "Don't they say 'please' in Havana?" she said in a loudwhisper to Margaret. But Margaret rattled the tea-cups, and pretendednot to hear.

  "Will you take tea, Rita, or chocolate?" she asked quickly.

  "Chocolate, please," replied her cousin languidly. "I wonder if it willbe fit to drink? One hears that everything of that sort is sofrightfully adulterated in this country."

  "It looks delicious," said Margaret, pouring out the smooth, brownliquid. "Do you see, girls, what lovely cups these are? Look, Rita, theyare all different! I shall give you this delicate pink one, for it justmatches your gown. Such a pretty gown!" she added admiringly, glancingat the pale rose-coloured silk and rich lace that set off the clearpallor of Rita's complexion in a wonderful way.

  "It is only a tea-gown!" said the latter carelessly. "I have brought noclothes to speak of. Yes, the cup does match it rather well, doesn'tit?"

  "And you, Peggy," said Margaret, "shall have this blue darling with thegold arabesques. Surely, anything would taste good out of suchcups,--take care! Oh, my dear!"

  Margaret sprang up and tried to recapture the cup which had just lefther hand. But it was too late! Peggy had taken it quickly, grasping theedge of the saucer. Naturally, the saucer tilted up, the cup tiltedover, and a stream of chocolate poured over her hand and arm, anddescended into her lap, where it formed a neat brown pool with greenflannel banks. Moreover, an auxiliary stream was meandering over thetable, making rapid progress towards the rose-coloured silk and whitelace.

  With an angry exclamation of _"Bete!"_ Rita pushed her chair back out ofdanger. Poor Peggy, after the first terrified "Ow!" as the hotchocolate deluged her, sat still, apparently afraid of making mattersworse if she stirred. Margaret, after ringing the bell violently to callElizabeth, promptly checked the threatening rivulet on the table withher napkin, and then, seizing Peggy's, proceeded to sop up the pool aswell as she could.

  "I never!" gasped the unhappy girl. "Why, I didn't do a thing! it justtipped right over!"

  "It is too bad!" said Margaret, as sympathetically as she could, thoughher cousin did look so funny, it was hard to keep from smiling. "Oh,here is Elizabeth! Elizabeth, we have had an accident, and I fear MissPeggy's dress is quite ruined. Can you think of anything to take thestains out?"

  Elizabeth surveyed the scene with a practised eye.

  "Hot soapsuds will be the best thing," she said. "If the young lady willcome up with me at once, and take the frock off, I will see what can bedone."

  "Yes, do go with Elizabeth, dear!" urged Margaret. "Nothing can be donetill the dress is off."

  And poor Peggy went off, hanging her head and looking very miserable.

  Rita, as soon as her dress was out of danger, was able to see the affairin another light, and as her cousin left the room burst into a peal ofsilvery laughter.

  "Oh, hush!" cried Margaret. "She will hear you, Rita!"

  "And if she does?" replied Rita, drawing her chair up to the tableagain, and sipping her chocolate leisurely. "Acrobats expect to belaughed at, and certainly this was a most astonishing _tour de force_.Seriously, my dear," she added, seeing Margaret's troubled look, "howare we to take our Western cousin, if we do not treat her as a comicmonstrosity? Is it possible that she is a Montfort? I shall call herCousin Calibana, I think!"

  She nibbled daintily at a macaroon, and went on: "It is a thing to bethankful for that the green frock is probably hopelessly ruined. I amquite sure it would have affected my nerves seriously if I had beenobliged to see it every day. Do they perhaps cut dresses with amowing-machine in the West?" and she laughed again, a laugh so ripplingand musical that it was a pity it was not good-natured.

  Margaret listened in troubled silence. What could she say that would notat once alienate this foreign cousin, who seemed now inclined tofriendliness with her? And yet she could not let poor Peggy goundefended. At last she said gently, yet with meaning, "Dear Rita, youmake me tremble for myself. If you are so very severe in your judgments,who can hope to pass uncriticised?"

  "You, _ma cousine_!" cried Rita. "But there is no question of you; youare of one's own kind! You are altogether charming. Surely you must seethat this young person is simply impossible. Impossible!" she repeatedwith decision. "There is no other word for it."

  "No," said Margaret, bravely, "I do not see that, Rita! She is shy andawkward, and I should think very young for her age. But she has anhonest, good face, and I like her. Besides," she added, unconsciouslyrepeating the argument she had used in defending Rita herself againstPeggy's animadversions, "it is absurd to judge a person on half anhour's acquaintance."

  "Oh, half an hour!" said Rita lightly; "half a lifetime! My judgments,_chere cousine_, are made at the first glance, and remain fixed."

  "And are they always right?" asked Margaret, half amused and half vexed.

  "They are right for me!" said Ri
ta, nodding her pretty head. "That isenough."

  She pushed her chair back, and coming to Margaret's side, laid her handlightly on her shoulder.

  "_Chere cousine_," she said, in a caressing tone, "you are so charming,I do hope you are not good. It is detestable to be good! Avoid it, _treschere_! believe me, it is impossible!"

  "Are all the people in Havana bad?" asked Margaret, returning thecaress, and resisting the impulse to shake the pretty, foolish speaker.

  "All!" replied Rita cheerfully; "enchanting, delightful people; all bad!Oh, of course when one is old, that is another matter! Then onebegins--"

  "Was your mother bad, Rita?" asked Margaret quietly.

  "My mother was an angel, do you hear? a saint!" cried the girl. Andsuddenly, without the slightest warning, she burst into a tropicalpassion of tears, and sobbed and wept as if her heart would break.

  Poor Margaret! Decidedly this was not a pleasant evening for her. By thetime she had soothed Rita, and tucked her up on the library sofa, with afan and a vinaigrette, Peggy had come down again, in a state ofaggrieved dejection, to finish her supper. A wrapper of dingy brownreplaced the green frock; she too had been crying, and her eyes were redand swollen.

  "I wish I was at home!" she said sullenly, as she ate her chicken andbuttered her roll. "I wish I hadn't come here. I knew I should have ahorrid time, but Pa made me come."

  "Oh, don't say that, Peggy, dear!" said Margaret. "You are tiredto-night, and homesick, that is all; and it was very unlucky about thedress, of course. To-morrow, when you have had a good night's rest, youwill feel very differently, I know you will. Just think how delightfulit will be to explore the house, and to roam about the garden, whereyour father and mine used to play when they were boys. Hasn't yourfather told you about the swing under the great chestnut-trees, and thesummer-houses, and--"

  "Oh, yes!" said Peggy, her eyes brightening. "And I was to look in thelong summer-house for his initials, cut in the roof. Uncle Roger stoodon Uncle John's shoulders, and Pa on his; and when he was finishing thetail of the M, Pa gave such a dig with his knife that he lost hisbalance, and they all tumbled down together; and Pa has the mark of thefall now, on his forehead."

  Margaret felt that the bad moment had passed.

  "Tell me about your father, and all of you at home," she said. "Think! Ihave never even seen a picture of Uncle James! He is tall, of course;all the Montforts are tall."

  "Miles tall," said Peggy; "with broad shoulders, and a big brown beard.So jolly, Pa is! He is out on the farm all day, you know, and in theevening he sits in the corner and smokes his pipe, and the boys tell himwhat they have been doing, and they talk crops and cattle and pigs bythe hour together."

  "The boys?" inquired Margaret. "Your brothers?"

  Peggy nodded, and began to count on her fingers.

  "Jim, George, Hugh, Max, and Peter, boys; Peggy, Jean, Bessie, Flora,and Doris, girls. Oh, dear! I wish they were all here!"

  "Ten whole cousins!" cried Margaret. "How rich I feel! Now you must tellme all about them, Peggy. Is Jim the eldest?"

  "Eldest and biggest!" replied Peggy, beginning on the frosted cake. "Jimis twenty-five, and taller than Pa,--six feet four in his shoes. He hascharge of the stock, and spends most of his time on horseback. His horseis nearly as big as an elephant, and he rides splendidly. I think youwould like Jim," she said shyly.

  "I am sure I should!" said Margaret heartily. "Who comes next?"

  "George," said Peggy. "George isn't very nice, I think; I don't believeyou'd like him. He has been to college, you know, and he sneers andmakes fun of the rest of us, and calls us countrified."

  Margaret was sure that she should not like George, but she did not sayso. "He's very clever," continued Peggy, "and Pa is very proud of him. Is'pose I might like him better if he didn't tease Hugh, but I can'tstand that."

  "Is Hugh your favourite brother?" Margaret asked softly.

  "Of course. Hugh is the best of us all. He is lame. Jim and George werefighting one day, when he was a little baby, just beginning to walk; andsomehow, one of them fell back against him and threw him downstairs. Hehurt his back, and has been lame ever since. Hugh is like an angel,somehow. You never saw anybody like Hugh. He does things--well! Let metell you this that he did. He never gets into rows, but the rest of usdo, all the time. Jim and George are the worst, and when they are at it,you can hear them all over the house. Well, one day Hugh was sickupstairs, and they had an awful row. Pa was out, and Ma couldn't doanything with them; she never can. Hugh can generally stop them, butthis time he couldn't go down, you see. I was sitting with him, and Isaw him getting whiter and whiter. At last he said, 'Peggy, I wantyou--' and then he stopped and said, 'No, you are too big. Bring littlePeter here!' I went and brought Peter, who was about four then. 'Petie,'said Hugh, 'take brother's crutch, and go downstairs, and give it toBrother Jim and Brother George. Say Hugh sent it.' And then he told meto help Petie down with the crutch, but not go into the room. I did peepin through the crack, though, and I saw Petie toddle in, dragging thecrutch, and saw him lay it down between them, and say, 'Brudder Hughsend it to big brudders.' They stopped and never said another word, onlyJim gave a kind of groan. Then he kissed Petie and told him to thankBrother Hugh; and he went out, and didn't come back for three days. Herides off when he feels bad, and stays away on the farm somewhere tillhe gets over it."

  "And George?" asked Margaret.

  "Oh! George just went into his room and sulked," said Peggy. "That's_his_ way! I do declare, he's like--" Here she stopped suddenly, for avision appeared in the doorway. Pale and scornful, with her great darkeyes full of cold mockery, Rita stood gazing at them both, herrose-coloured draperies floating around her.

  "I am truly sorry," she said, "to interrupt this torrent of eloquence. Imerely wish to say that I am going to bed. Good night, _chereMarguerite! Senorita Calibana, je vous souhaite le bon soir!_ Continue,I pray you, your thrilling disclosures as long as my cousin's ears cancontain them!" And with a mocking courtesy she swept away, leaving theother two girls with an indefinable sense of guilt and disgrace. PoorPeggy! She had been so happy, all her troubles forgotten, pouring outher artless recital of home affairs; but now her face darkened, and shelooked sullen and unhappy again.

  "Hateful thing!" she muttered. "I wish she was in Jericho!"

  "Never mind, Peggy dear!" said Margaret as cheerfully as she could."Rita is very tired, and has a headache. It has been delightful to hearabout the brothers, and especially about Hugh; but I am sure we ought togo to bed too. You must be quite tired out, and I am getting sleepymyself."

  She kissed her cousin affectionately, and arm in arm they went up thegreat staircase.