“Oh, I will!” agreed Arthur promptly. “I’ll take the will now, and you can follow up with the deed as soon as you get the cash. But no more journeys up to London, my dear, if you love me, and don’t use such big words before seven o’clock in the morning, or you’ll choke. It’s bad for little girls to exert themselves so much. Now I’m going to skate about in the bath for a bit, and tumble into my clothes, and then I’ll come back and give you a lift downstairs. You are coming down for breakfast, I suppose?” “Rather! On Christmas morning! I should just think I was!” cried Peggy emphatically, and Arthur went off to the bath-room, calling in at Max’s room _en route_ to squeeze a sponge full of water over that young gentleman’s head and pull the clothes off the bed by way of giving emphasis to his “Get up, you lazy beggar! It’s the day after to-morrow, and the plum pudding is waiting!” Peggy was the only one of the young folks who did not go to church that morning; but she was left in charge of the decoration for the dinner-table, and when this was finished, there was so much to think about that the time passed all too quickly. Last year she and Arthur had spent Christmas with their mother; now both parents were away in India, and everything was strange and altered. As Peggy sat gazing into the heart of the big gloomy fire, it seemed to her that the year that was passing away would end a complete epoch in her brother’s experiences and her own, and that from this hour a new chapter would begin. She herself had come back from the door of death, and had life given, as it were, afresh into her hands. Arthur’s longed-for career had been checked at its commencement, and all his plans laid waste. Even the life in the vicarage would henceforth take new conditions, for Rob and Oswald would go up to Oxford at the beginning of the term, and their place be filled by new pupils. There was something solemnising in the consciousness of change which filled the air. One could never tell what might be the next development. Nothing was too unexpected to happen—since Arthur’s success had ended in failure, and she herself had received Rosalind’s vows of love and friendship. “Good things have happened as well as bad,” acknowledged Peggy honestly, “but how I do hate changes! The new pupils may be the nicest boys that were ever born, but no one will ever be like Rob to me, and I’d rather Arthur had been a soldier than anything in the wide world. I wish one could go on being young for ever and ever. It’s when you grow old that all these troubles and changes come upon you.” And Peggy sighed and wagged her head, oppressed with the weight of fifteen years. It was a relief to hear the clatter of horses’ hoofs, and the sound of voices in the hall, which proved that the church-goers had returned home. Mr. and Mrs. Asplin had been driven home from church by Lord and Lady Darcy, and the next moment they were in the room, greeting Peggy with demonstrative affection.