Peggy Stewart at School | Page 5

before your time. It has been most unnatural.
But now we must change all that. Young people were not born to
assume heavy responsibilities, whereas older ones accept them as a
matter of course. And that's just what I have come way down here to
try to do for my sweet niece," ended Mrs. Stewart smiling with
would-be fascinating coyness. The smile would have been somewhat
less complacent could she have heard old Jerome's comment as he
placed upon the pantry shelf the fingerbowls which he had just

removed from the table.
"Yas, yas, dat's it. Yo' needn't 'nounce it. We knows pintedly what yo's
aimin' ter do, an' may de Lawd have mussy 'pon us if yo' succeeds. But
dere's shorely gwine be ructions 'fore yo' does, er my name ain't Jerome
Randolph Lee Stewart."
CHAPTER II
RECONSTRUCTION
"I have to ride into Annapolis, this morning, Aunt Katherine. Would
you like to drive in?" asked Peggy, when the unpleasant breakfast was
ended.
"I should be delighted to, dear," answered Mrs. Stewart sweetly,
striving to recover lost ground, for she felt that a good bit had been lost.
"At what time do you start?"
"Immediately. I will order the surrey."
She left the room, her aunt's eyes following her with a half-mystified,
half-baffled expression: Was the girl deeper than she had given her
credit for being? Had she miscalculated the depth of the pool after all?
All through the breakfast hour Peggy had been a sweet and gracious
young hostess, anticipating every want, looking to every detail of the
service, ordering with a degree of self-possession which secretly
astonished Mrs. Stewart, who felt that it would have been difficult for
her, even with her advantage of years, to have equaled the girl's
unassuming self-assurance and dignity, or have rivaled her perfect
ability to sit at the head of her father's table. A moment later Mrs.
Stewart went to her room to dress for the drive into town, her breakfast
toilet having been a most elaborate silk negligee. Twenty minutes later
the surrey stood at the door, but, contrary to Mrs. Stewart's expectations,
her niece was not in it: she was mounted upon her beautiful black horse
Shashai, at whose feet Tzaritza lay, her nose between her paws, but her
ears a-quiver for the very first note of the low whistle which meant,

"full speed ahead." On either side of Shashai, a superb bodyguard,
stood Silver Star, Polly Howland's saddle horse, though he was still
quartered at Severndale, and Roy, the colt that Peggy had raised from
tiny babyhood, and which had followed her as he would have followed
his dam, ever since the accident that had made him an orphan.
Perhaps the reader of "Peggy Stewart" will recall Mrs. Stewart's horror
upon being met at the railway station by "the wild West show," as she
stigmatized her niece's riding and her horses, for rarely did Peggy
Stewart ride unless accompanied by her two beautiful horses and the
wolfhound, and her riding was a source of marvel to more than one, her
instructor having been Shelby, the veteran horse-trainer, who had been
employed at Severndale ever since Peggy could remember, and whose
early days had been spent upon a ranch in the far West where a man
had to ride anything which possessed locomotive powers. At the
present moment a more appreciative observer would have thrilled at the
sight, for rarely is it given to mortal eyes to look upon a prettier picture
than Peggy Stewart and her escort presented at that moment.
Given as a background a beautiful, carefully preserved estate, which for
generations has been the pride of its owners, a superb old mansion of
the most perfect colonial type, a sunny September morning, and as the
figures upon that background a charming young girl in a white linen
riding-skirt, her rich coloring at its best, her eyes shining, her seat in
her saddle so perfect that she seemed a part of her mount, and you have
something to look upon. To this add three thoroughbred horses and a
snowy dog, an old colored servitor, for Jerome had come out with a
message from Harrison, and it is a picture to be appreciated. Had the
tall woman standing upon the broad piazza been able to do so, many
things which happened later might never have happened at all.
Mrs. Stewart was elaborately gowned in a costume better suited for a
drive in Newport than Annapolis, especially Annapolis in September. It
was a striking creation of pale blue linen and Irish point lace, with a
large lace hat, heavy with nodding plumes and a voluminous white lace
veil floating out about it. She was a handsome woman in a certain
conspicuous way, and certainly knew how to purchase her apparel,

though, not above