When afternoon came Peggy curled herself in an armchair in the corner of the study, and stared gloomily at the fire. It was four o’clock. In another hour the postman would call for the letters and she would deliver the precious packet into his hands. She had made it up in the dinner hour with some faint idea of carrying it to the village, but she was tired, the rain poured, and Rob had said that the afternoon post would do. She had given up the idea of going out, and taken a nap instead on the top of her bed. And now it was four o’clock. Mellicent called out that she was dying for tea-time to come; it had seemed such a long, long day; they really ought to have tea earlier on these dreary, murky afternoons. “_I want my tea!_” she chanted, in shrill, penetrating tones, and instantly the refrain was taken up by the other voices, and repeated over and over again with ever-increasing volume, until the mistress of the house rushed in to discover the reason of the clamour. “Bless your hearts, you shall have it at once!” she cried. “I’ll ring and have it brought in, and ransack my cupboards to see what treats I can give you. Poor dears, it _is_ dull for you sitting indoors all day long. We must think of some bright, exciting games for this evening.” No sooner said than done; she did not wait until Mary appeared, but bustled off to meet her, to enlist the cook’s sympathy, and put out the promised delicacies, and when the table was set she returned to the room and seated herself, smilingly, in Esther’s place. “I am going to stay with you this afternoon,” she said brightly. “Draw up your chairs, dears, and let us be jovial. There is no credit in being happy when the sun is shining, as dear old Mark Tapley would have said; but it will really be praiseworthy if we succeed in being festive this afternoon. Come, Peggy dearie!” Peggy turned her dreary little face and stared at the table. From outside came the sound of the opening and shutting of the door, of footsteps in the hall. She glanced at the clock, wondering if it could possibly be the postman already, found it was only ten minutes past four, and dismissed the supposition with a sigh. “I don’t--think--I want----” she was beginning slowly, when, of a sudden, there came a tremendous rat-tat-tat on the schoolroom door; the handle was not turned, but burst open; a blast of chilly air blew into the room, and in the doorway stood a tall, handsome youth, with square shoulders, a gracefully poised head, and Peggy Saville’s eave-like brows above his dancing eyes. “Oh, what a surprise!” came the cry in loud laughing tones. “How do you do, everybody? Just thought I would step in as I was passing, and have a cup of tea, don’t you know.” “My boy! My boy! Oh, how good to see you!” cried Mrs. Asplin rapturously. Mellicent gurgled with surprise, and Peggy stood up by her chair and stretched out both arms like a child to its mother.