"How strange--and I love it! I made father take me for a drive on the top of a City omnibus the other day, and it was just thrilling. I love the roar and rush and bustle, and the feeling that one is in the very centre of the world, and that inside those big bare buildings, and among those jostling crowds, the greatest men in the world are at work, making literature--making kingdoms--making history! I look at the different people as they pass, and wonder who they are, and what they are doing and feeling and thinking. It's like a big, wonderful puzzle, which one will never, never be able to solve, but which keeps one enthralled and wondering all the same." Rob's dark face softened tenderly as he looked at the little figure sitting so erect by his side, with the flush of excitement on her cheeks, and her young eyes aglow with enthusiasm. "Or a story-book?" he said gently. "You used always to compare life to a story-book, Peggy, and comfort yourself in tribulation by the reflection that it would all work out right in the third volume. Well, _you_ find your most interesting chapters in the City, and I find mine under the hedges in a country lane. It's all a matter of taste, but you have as much right to your opinion as any one else." "Oh, but I love the country, too," cried Peggy quickly. "You know I do! We want to have our home in the country, and I intend to have the most beautiful garden in the county. I have never yet seen a garden which came up to my ideal, and I mean to show how things should be managed, and to enjoy myself ever so much in planning it out. All the same, it must be near town, so that we can run up when we feel inclined. People first, and Nature second--them's my sentiments! I could not be happy separated from my fellow-creatures." Rob smiled in a patient, forbearing manner. "Women are by nature gregarious. They can't help themselves, poor things! Whatever they do, they need an audience. It's no satisfaction to them to possess anything, unless they can show it off to a so-called friend and make her green with envy. `What is the good of a nice house? No one sees it!' That is Rosalind's cry, when by any chance we are without visitors for a week at a time. `What is the use of wearing pretty clothes? Nobody sees them!' The idea of enjoying a thing for itself alone is unattainable to the feminine mind." "Don't be superior, please! It's so easy to sneer and be sarcastic at other people's expense. I could scorch you up at this moment if I chose, but I refrain. Snubbing is a form of wit which has never made any appeal to my imagination," cried Peggy grandiloquently, and Rob chuckled to himself with delighted appreciation.