Icouldn't fear a dead dog. I feel nearly as brave as Robert."
She described, almost in Robert's own words, and with a droll mimicry ofRobert's manner, his professed contempt for what he could put his handthrough and his gruesome familiarity with old bones. Robert was so wellknown a figure in Moresby, was known even to the guests staying at theHall, that Peggy's imitation of the sexton's manner provoked themerriment of all her hearers. The vicar was as greatly amused as therest.
"Robert may be very brave in the matter of ghosts," he said; "but I haveknown him quail before something not usually considered terrifying."
"What is that?" inquired Peggy.
"A woman," he answered, and met her eyes and smiled.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
With the finish of the holidays the guests at the Hall went theirseveral ways, and there was a lull in the feverish round of gaiety whichhad moved Moresby out of its accustomed calm, and had introduced intothe usually contented breasts of the rustic portion of the community adissatisfaction with their former quiet life and a profound respect forthe new residents, quite apart from the prestige that descended uponthem by virtue of their dwelling at the Hall. Even in the matter of thehome farm, managed and worked entirely by women--which innovation hadbeen looked on distrustfully by the sons of the soil--the Chadwicks wereaccorded a grudging recognition of success. The home farm was like toprosper. Moreover, it would not interfere with local farmers.Everything which it would produce was to be disposed of in markets whichMoresby did not reach. Mrs Chadwick had no intention of using herwealth to the injury of her neighbours; and she made that clear to thembefore she set about stocking her farm.
Since there was capital at the back of the enterprise, since the farmwas stocked with the best, and everything was up to date, and managersand workers alike were keen and experienced, Mrs Chadwick had nomisgivings as to the ultimate result of this venture. It was a hobby ofhers, and one upon which she spent much time and thought. A womanliving in the country needed some outlet for her energy, she opined.
Robert, although he approved highly of Mrs Chadwick, was sternlyopposed to the idea of women farming. Hadn't he seen a woman "orched"?And didn't he know how fearsome they were with cattle? Why, even themilking was done by men nowadays, and a lot better done, in his opinion.
Mrs Chadwick invited him to inspect the farm and the model dairy, and,because Robert interested her, she personally conducted his tour andexplained things to him, and listened to his comments attentively,approving when he made a wise suggestion, which was seldom, andmaintaining silence before his cavilling remarks. One proposal whichshe made out of the kindness of her heart threw Robert into such a feverof angry trepidation that for the time his admiration for Mrs Chadwickwas seriously jeopardised--the proposal being that she should offerBob's young woman a position in the model diary. Robert stood still inthe path and eyed her stonily.
"Don't you do it, mum," he said, with such earnestness of manner, somuch angry opposition in his eyes, that Mrs Chadwick showed thesurprise she felt. "Don't you do it," he repeated.
"But why?" she asked. "I hoped I might be doing you, through Bob, alittle service."
"You'll be doin' me a much greater service in leavin' Bob's young womanwhere 'er be," he replied. "If 'er comes yere Bob'll follow."
"I should have thought you and Hannah would be pleased at that," shesaid.
"Maybe Hannah would. I don't doubt 'er would, 'cause 'er knows I'd bevexed. Do you suppose," he added reproachfully, "that 'aving to go tochurch more'n once o' Sundays, and sometimes in the week, I want to bekep' awake o' nights listenin' to Bob 'ollering to the Lord? Hannahdon't mind, 'cause it isn't 'er profession; but when a man makes 'islivin' through the Church 'e wants 'is off-time free o' it."
"I see," she said. "Yes; I had forgotten that. We will leave Bob'syoung woman where she is."
"Don't think I'm not obliged to you, mum," Robert hastened to say,relenting before her amiable reasonableness, "for thinking of it. Butit wouldn' be to your interest nohow. Bob's young woman would give moretime to 'er prayers than to your dairy. It's all soul wi' they, andnothin' o' conscience. I wouldn' like you to be cheated like thatthere; no, I wouldn'. A lady wot is so generous as you be ought to 'ave'er interests studied."
Robert's zeal, like the zeal of many conscientious objectors to theself-seeking of others, placed him beyond the proscribed limits ofprofiting through Mrs Chadwick's generosity. He had profitedhandsomely during the Christmas week; he profited again on that crispsunny morning when he parted from her after his inspection of the farm,and left her walking leisurely across the fields with the pekinesedisporting itself beside her, running ahead of her in pursuit ofimaginary rabbits and running back again for approbation of its sportingproclivities.
Where the fields were bisected by a country road Will Chadwick hadundertaken to meet her and motor her back. It was rather beyond thehour fixed for the meeting, but Mr Chadwick was a patient man, and aknowledge of his wife's habits prepared him for delay. He had broughtDiogenes with him in the car because Diogenes had expressed the wish toaccompany him; and Diogenes, not being blessed with the same amount ofpatience, had been allowed to dismount, and was putting in his time, asthe pekinese was doing, in searching the hedges for possible sport.Diogenes was not a sporting dog; but when he saw a cat, or any otherlegitimate form of chase, he tried to cheat onlookers into believingthat he was. A pose is detestable in man or beast; it not infrequentlyleads to his undoing. Diogenes posed so enthusiastically that he almostdeceived himself into mistaking the pose for the quality it sought toemulate.
It was unfortunate that on this occasion, when he was especially bent onimposing on himself, and was pursuing his snuffling search for hiddenprey among the dank fern-stalks and soft mould in the hedge, thepekinese should at the same moment be engaged in a similar form ofdeception on the farther side of the hedge. Diogenes detected the furof its long coat through the wet, shining leaves, and though familiaritywith the pekinese should have accustomed him to discriminate between itand a cat, the practice of self-deception had become such an obsessionthat he wilfully ignored this distinction and, with a low growl, burstthrough the hedge and seized his quarry and shook it playfully in atransport of delight, then laid the little limp body down and stood overit in an attitude of satisfied triumph and barked a cheerfulaccompaniment to Mrs Chadwick's screams.
Mrs Chadwick made a dart forward and struck at Diogenes with her hand,to Diogenes' pained surprise; then she gathered the pekinese up in herarms and fell to lamenting loudly.
Diogenes walked back to the car with an air of injured disgust andwagged a short, tentative tail at his master; but Mr Chadwick, ignoringthese overtures, passed him, and was over the hedge in a trice andbeside his disconsolate wife.
"Oh, I say, Ruby, I am sorry!" was all that he could articulate, as hegazed at the limp bit of fur in her arms and then into her weeping face.
He blamed himself for having brought Diogenes, but most of all he blamedDiogenes for doing the last thing on earth that might have been expectedof him. As Mrs Chadwick continued to lament, and continued to hold thedead dog in her arms, his perturbation increased to the extent ofcausing him to swear.
"Damn that dog!" he exclaimed in exasperation, and put his arm about hiswife's shoulders, and took with his disengaged hand the limp, lifelessthing from her. "He didn't suffer at all," he assured her. "It was soquick, he couldn't have realised that he was hurt."
This knowledge was, of course, consoling to the bereaved mistress; but,beside her grief at the loss of her tiny pet, the consolation wasinsufficient to balance her distress. She laid her head on herhusband's shoulder and wept unrestrainedly, to the distrustful amazementof a cow which lifted its head above the hedge to stare at this singulargrouping. Fortunately for the cow's peace of mind Diogenes was by nowthoroughly subdued, having gathered from the unusual noises disturbingthe tranquillity of the day that this game, like another game he hadplayed with Mr Musgrave's cat, promised a l
ess agreeable ending than hehad foreseen. He recalled that on that occasion he had been beaten; sohe lay down docilely beside the motor and feigned slumber, in the hopethat when the fuss was over the cause of it would be forgotten. ButDiogenes' fate was even then being sealed on the other side of thehedge.
"Don't cry, Ruby," Mr Chadwick said. "It won't bring the little beggarto life, you know; and you'll make yourself sick. I'll get you anotherpet, dear."
This promise, though well meaning, was mistaken. In the first shock ofher