Margaret was still kept a little quiet by her hands, though the blisters were rapidly healing. The other four scampered here and there, playing hide and seek in the house, straying through the garden, dancing, singing, from morning to night. Margaret was always at hand to welcome them when they came in, to listen and laugh, or sympathise, as the case might demand. She was happy, too, in her own way, but she found herself wondering, as she had wondered before, whether she were seventeen or thirty-seven, and there was no doubt in her mind that Uncle John was nearer her in age than any of the others. Her heart was full of quiet happiness, for this dear uncle had asked her if she would stay with him, would make her home here at Fernley with him and Aunt Faith. She felt as if nothing in the world could have given her such happiness, and she shook her head, smiling, at Rita"s violent protestations that she must come to Cuba, and at Peggy"s equally earnest prayers that she would come out with her to the Ranch.
"Some day!" was all she could be brought to say, when her cousins hung about her with affection whose sincerity she could not doubt.
"Some day, dear girls, when Uncle John can come with me. As long as he needs me here, here I stay!"
And Peggy would pout and shake her shoulders, and Rita would fling away and call her an iceberg, a snow-queen, with marble for a heart; and two minutes after they would both be waltzing through the hall like wild creatures, calling on Margaret to observe how beautifully the boys were learning the new step.
The young men had been taken to visit Mrs. Cheriton, and came away so deeply smitten that they could talk of nothing else for some time. Rita and Peggy opened their young eyes very wide when Carlos declared she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and Fernando responded with fervour:
"She eess a _go_dess! the wairld _con_tains not of soche."
But the G.o.ddess could not dance, nor play "I spy!" and the girls soon had it their own way again.
And so the day came when the dancing and playing must stop. The day came, and the hour came; and a group, half sad, half joyful, was gathered on the stone veranda, while White Eagle stood ready at the foot of the steps, with William, waiting to drive the four travellers to the ferry. Four; for Peggy was to be met in New York by a friend and neighbour of her father"s who was to take her home.
Peggy"s eyes were red with weeping. Her hat was on wrong side before, and her veil was tied in a hard knot, as it had been on the night of her arrival; but Peggy did not care. She submitted while Margaret set the hat straight; then clung round her neck, and sobbed till Carlos was quite distracted. "Margaret, I--I want to tell you!" she whispered through her tears. "I am going to be a different girl at home now. I am going to--try--to remember the way you do things, and to be a little like you. Oh, Margaret, only a little! but I want you to think that I am trying, and--and--I will remember about my b.u.t.tons--and--have my boots blacked. Oh, Margaret, you have been so good to me, and I do love you so, and now I--am--going away to leave you!"
Margaret was in tears, too, by this time, seventeen having got the upper hand of thirty-seven completely.
"My dear!" she said. "My dear, darling little Peggy, I shall miss you,--oh, so much! And dear, you have taught me as much as I have taught you, and more. Think of the bog! oh, Peggy, think of the bog! and the gutter-spout! I shall never be such a coward again, and all because of you, Peggy. And we will write to each other, dear, every week, won"t we?
and we will always be sisters, just the same as own sisters. Good-bye, my little girl! good-bye, my dear little girl!"
The sobbing Peggy was lifted into the carriage; and now it was Rita"s turn to cling about Margaret with fondest words and caresses.
"Marguerite, we part!" she said. "_Tres chere_, how can I leave thee?
I--I have learned much since I came here. We are different, yes! but I know that it is lovely to be good, though I am not good myself. You would not have me good, Marguerite? It would destroy my personnel! But I love goodness, and thee, the spirit of it. Don"t shake your head, for I will not submit to it. You are good, I tell you,--good like my mother, my angel. You will think of me, _cherie_?--you will think of your Spanish Rita, and warm your kind, cool heart with the thought? Yes, I know you will. You will be happy here with the uncle. Yes! he"s like you,--you will suit each other! For me, it would be death in two weeks; yet he is n.o.ble, he has the grand air. _Tres chere_, I have left for you the bracelet with the rubies; it is on your toilet-table. You admired it,--it was yours from that moment, but I waited, for I knew that one day we must part. They are drops of blood, Marguerite, from my heart,--Rita"s heart,--which beats ever for you. _Adios, mi alma!_"
All this was poured into Margaret"s ear with such rapidity and fire that she could make no reply; could only embrace her cousin warmly, and promise constant thought and frequent letters.
And now Carlos was bending to kiss her hand, rather to her confusion. He regarded her with awe and veneration, and murmured that she was a lily of goodness. Fernando was saluting her with three bows, each more magnificent than the other. Mr. Montfort kissed the girls warmly, shook hands cordially with the young men.
Hands were kissed, handkerchiefs waved. Peggy, drowned in tears, looked back to utter a last farewell.
"Good-bye, Margaret! Good-bye, darling Margaret! Don"t forget us!"
They were gone, and Margaret stood on the veranda and wept, her heart longing for her mates; but presently she dried her eyes, and looked up to greet her uncle with a smile.
"Dear girls!" she said; "it has been so good, so good, to have them and know them. You have given us all a great happiness, Uncle John. And now they are going home to their own people, and that is well, too."
"And you are staying at home," said John Montfort, "with your own people. This is your home, Margaret, as long as it is mine. I cannot be your father, dear, but you must let me come as near as you can, for we have only one another,--you and Aunt Faith and I. You will stay, always, will you not, to be our light and comfort? I don"t feel as if I could ever let you go again."
"Oh," said Margaret, and her eyes ran over again with happy tears, "Oh, if I can really be a comfort, Uncle, I shall be so glad--so glad! but I know so little! I am--"
But Uncle John had only one word to say, and that was the one word of an old song that he loved, and that his mother had sung to him when he was a little lad in the nursery:
"Weel I ken my ain la.s.sie; Kind love is in her e"e!"
THE END.
BOOKS FOR GIRLS By Laura E. Richards
The MARGARET SERIES
Three Margarets Margaret Montfort Peggy Rita Fernley House
The HILDEGARDE SERIES
Queen Hildegarde Hildegarde"s Holiday Hildegarde"s Home Hildegarde"s Neighbors Hildegarde"s Harvest
DANA ESTES & COMPANY Publishers Estes Press, Summer St., Boston