"No wonder that the child was nearly choked! The marvel is that she had ever regained her breath after such a mistake. Her throat must be raw!" She hurried out of the room to concoct a soothing draught, at which Peggy supped at intervals during the evening, croaking out a hoarse, "Better, thank you!" in reply to inquiries, and looking so small and pathetic in her nest of cushions that the hearts of the beholders softened at the sight. Before bedtime, however, she revived considerably, and her elastic spirits coming to her aid, entertained the listeners with a husky but dramatic account of her proceedings. How she had not troubled to turn the gas full up, and had just seized the bottle, tilted some of the contents into a tumbler in which there was a small portion of water, without troubling to measure it out, and gulped it down without delay. Her description of the feelings which ensued was a really clever piece of word painting, but behind the pretence of horror at her own carelessness, there rang a hardly-concealed note of pride, as though, in thus risking her life, she had done something quite clever and distinguished. Mrs. Asplin exhausted herself in "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" of sympathy, and had nothing harsher to say than-- "Well, now, dearie, you'll be more careful another time, won't you?" But the Vicar's long face grew longer than ever as he listened, and the lines deepened in his forehead. Peggy was inexperienced in danger signals, but Esther and Mellicent recognised the well-known signs, and were at no loss to understand the meaning of that quiet "A word with you in the study, Mariquita, if you please!" with which he rose from the breakfast-table next morning. Peggy's throat was still sore, and she fondly imagined that anxiety on its behalf was the cause of the summons, but she was speedily undeceived, for the Vicar motioned towards a chair, and said, in short grave sentences, as his manner was when annoyed-- "I wish to speak to you about the event of last night, my dear. I am afraid that you hardly realise the matter in its true light. I was not at all pleased with the manner in which you gave your explanation. You appeared to imagine that you had done something clever and amusing. I take a very different view. You showed a reprehensible carelessness in trifling with medicines in the dark; it might have caused you your life, or, at best, a serious injury. As it was, you brought pain upon yourself, and gave us all a serious alarm. I see nothing amusing in such behaviour, but consider it stupid, and careless to an almost criminal extent." Peggy stood motionless, eyes cast down, hands clasped before her, a picture of injured innocence. She did not say a word in self-defence, but her feelings were so plainly written on her face that the Vicar's eyes flashed with impatience. "Well, what have you to say?" Peggy sighed in dolorous fashion.