Peggy Part 17

but could not make out much except the fighting parts.

"Never understood why they had sleeves so often," said Bertha, abstractedly bunching the green and white draperies. "Never could see how they got the sleeve on the helmet in any kind of shape. What sort of sleeves did they have then, anyhow? Why, they were those tight ones, weren't they, with a slashed cap at the top? Well, now, Snowy, that would look perfectly absurd on a helmet, you know it would."

The Snowy deigned no reply; or perhaps the tacks were in a perilous position at that moment. Bertha went on, thoughtfully:

"A balloon sleeve, now, would be more sensible; you could slip it over the helmet, and it would look like--like the shade of a piano lamp. But somehow, whenever I read about it, I see a small, tight, red sleeve, spread out like a red flannel bandage, as if the helmet had a sore throat--"

"Fluffy, you are talking absolute nonsense!" said Gertrude, regaining utterance. "And after all, they had gloves oftener than sleeves; not that that makes it much better. For my part, I always think of a glove with all the five fingers sticking up out of the middle of the crown, as if they had tried to be feathers and been nipped in the bud."

"Feathers don't bud!" said Bertha, handing up more slack.

"But the real thing," Gertrude went on, "the beautiful, graceful thing for the knight to wear, was the scarf. He could do anything he liked with that; tie it around his helmet, or across his breast,--that was the proper way of course,--or around his waist.

"A green scarf, that is what I would have! Very soft, so that it would go through a finger-ring, and yet wide enough to shake out into wonderful folds, you know, so that he could wrap himself up in it, and think of me, and--what's the matter, Peggy, why do you sigh?"

"Did I sigh?" said Peggy, looking confused. "It was nothing, Snowy. I was only thinking--thinking how stupid I was, and how Margaret would like all the things you talk about."

"Meaning sleeves?"

"No, oh, no! but about knights, and chivalry, and all that kind of thing. Margaret loves it so! She used to try to read Froissart to me, but it always put me to sleep. I suppose you like Froissart, Gertrude?"

She spoke so wistfully that Gertrude took the tacks out of her mouth (she should never have put them in; a junior should have known better!) that she might reply the better.

"Why, Peggy, yes, I do like Froissart, but it never troubles me when people don't care for my kind of books. You see, there are so many kinds, such an endless variety, and good in so many different ways. Now you, for example, would like the Jungle Books, and the 'Cruise of the _Cachalot_,' and all kinds of books of adventure."

"I don't know what is adventure if Froissart isn't," Bertha put in.

"Yes, but it's all too far away, too remote. I know how Peggy feels, because I have a cousin who is just that way. She used to think she should never read anything at all; then one day she got hold of Kipling, and the worlds opened, and the doors thereof. Just you come to me for the Jungle Books some day, Innocent, and you'll see. Look here, I want lots and lots, and again lots more leaves. Where are they all? I don't see any more, but there must be any quant.i.ty. I brought in a whole copse, myself."

"We put them all into the old swimming-tank, don't you remember? Oh, no; you went in before we had finished this morning. Well, they are there.

Stay where you are, Snowy, and Peggy and I will get a couple of loads."

The two girls ran down-stairs to the lower floor. Part of this was taken up, as we have already seen, by dressing-rooms, but it was only a small part. The larger s.p.a.ce was occupied by the great swimming-tank, five feet deep, and twenty by thirty feet in area. The tank was not used now, but the water was still connected, and could be turned on by special permission. Now, accordingly, the water in the bottom was about two feet deep, and the whole surface was a blaze of autumn colours, great branches of maple, oak, and ash covering it completely.

"Pretty, isn't it?" said Bertha. "Like a little sunset sea all alone by itself, without any sun to set. The next question is, how are we to get at them?"

"Oh, that's easy enough!" said Peggy. "I can reach them easily from the edge, and I'll hand them over to you."

Suiting the action to the word, she climbed up on the broad marble slab which formed the edge of the great tank.

Then, bending down, she brought up a great branch of golden maple, fresh and dripping. She shook it, and a diamond shower fell back on the dark s.p.a.ce left vacant; then another branch floated quietly over and filled the s.p.a.ce again.

"You'll be wet through!" said Bertha. "I don't suppose you care?"

"No, indeed! I'd rather be wet than not, when I'm doing things."

"I'll remember that," said Bertha, slyly, "and come round with a watering-can next time you are reciting your rhetoric. Give me some red now; oh, that is a beauty! There! that's enough for one load; unless you see just one more little one that is superlatively beautiful."

"That is just what I do see! Hold on a minute! this is such a beauty, you must have it, if I--oh!"

Peggy had been leaning as far as she could over the broad tank, fis.h.i.+ng for the gay branch, which floated provokingly just out of reach. At last she touched it--grasped it--drew it toward her; when all in a moment she slipped on the marble, now wet and glossy with the falling drops, clutched the air--slipped again--and fell headlong into the tank, with a mighty splash.

Bertha shrieked. There was an answering shriek from above, and Gertrude, followed by all the other girls, came flying down the stairs.

"What has happened? What--where is Peggy?"

"In the tank!" cried Bertha. "Oh! dear me, what shall we do? Peggy, are you much hurt?"

"No; I--think not!" spluttered Peggy. "I came down on my nose, that's all. Feels as if it was broken, but I don't know--no! It doesn't crack when I wiggle it. It's bleeding a good deal, though. Perhaps I'd better stay in till it stops."

Bertha tried to climb up to the perch which Peggy had so suddenly left vacant, but in vain; her legs were far too short. Gertrude, however, came with a flying leap, and scrambled cat-like up the side of the tank.

Looking down, with the kindest heart in the world, and a world of sympathy to fill it, she still could not help bursting into a peal of laughter. Peggy, sitting in the tank, crowned with gold and scarlet leaves, and dripping like Undine, was certainly a funny spectacle.

"Oh, do forgive me for laughing, Peggy dear!" cried Gertrude. "You--you do look funny, but I'm dreadfully sorry."

"Well, I'm laughing myself," said Peggy, "I don't see why you shouldn't.

But did you ever hear of a water-nymph with a nosebleed? If I could only get at my pocket--"

"Here, take mine," and Gertrude dropped her handkerchief, which Peggy caught adroitly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'HERE! TAKE MY HAND AND SCRAMBLE OUT.'"]

"My dear," Gertrude went on, "it seems so strange to have some one besides me falling about and dropping herself. I used to be the one, always. They called me 'Dropsy' at home; and I fell in here last year, Peggy, and I know exactly how it feels. Here! take my hand and scramble out."

Peggy, still sitting in the water, which covered her to the waist, looked about her thoughtfully. "It seems a pity, now I _am_ here, not to have some good of it," she said, philosophically.

"If it were only a foot deeper, or I weren't bothered with all these petticoats, I might have a good swim. However, I suppose I may as well get out--if I can. Take care, Snowy--oh! take care!"

Alas! for the Snowy Owl! After all, she was still Gertrude Merryweather.

The marble was wet--she bent down to take Peggy's hand--here was another tremendous splash, and two Undines sat in the tank, gazing speechless on each other. This was too much for the composure of any one. Both Peggy and Gertrude sat helpless, shaking with laughter, and absolutely unable to move. Bertha, outside, fairly went into hysterics, and laughed and screamed in one breath; while the other girls raised such a clamour of mingled mirth and terror that Emily Cortlandt, who had just come in to take a look at the decorations, came running down-stairs, dreading she knew not what.

One look over the edge of the tank, and Miss Cortlandt was not so very much better than the rest of them; but she recovered herself sooner.

Wiping her eyes, she proceeded at once to the business of rescuing the two involuntary divers. It proved impossible for them to climb up, the sides being too slippery, and the flying leap being out of the question in two feet of water. She brought a short ladder, and in another moment first one nymph and then the other came up from their fountain, and dripped little rivers on the floor.

"Is either of you hurt?" asked Miss Cortlandt.

"Not I!" said Gertrude, ruefully. "I fell on top of poor Peggy, and she makes a perfect cus.h.i.+on. How are you, Peggy? Did I half kill you?"

"Not a bit! I think perhaps I've sprained my wrist a little, but that was when I went in myself. No, I'm all right; truly I am, Miss Cortlandt. I'll just go and change my clothes, and then come back and finish."

Emily Cortlandt did not come of amphibious stock. "You will do nothing of the kind!" she said. "You _ought_ to go to bed, Peggy, and Gertrude, too; but I suppose you would think that a terrible piece of injustice."

"Yes, Miss Cortlandt, we should!" replied both girls, in a breath.

"And I know that you have both been brought up more or less like whales; so I'll let you off with camphor pills and peppermint drops. Those you _must_ have. Run along and change everything--everything, mind!--and I'll come around in five minutes and dose you. Run, now; make it a race, and I'll add hot lemonade to the stakes,--first prize and b.o.o.by prize!"

"Yes, Miss Cortlandt," cried the two Undines; and off they set in a shower of spray, with the other girls at their heels.