At this moment a loud rat-tat-tat sounded on the knocker, and with one accord the hearers darted into the hall and stood panting and gasping while Arthur threw open the door. “Telegram, sir!” said a sharp, young voice, and the brown envelope which causes so much agitation in quiet households was thrust forward in a small cold hand. Arthur looked at the address and handed it to the Vicar. “It is for you, sir, but it cannot possibly be anything about----” Mr. Asplin tore open the envelope, glanced over the words, and broke into an exclamation of amazement. “It is! It is from Peggy herself!--‘Euston Station. Returning by 10.30 train. Please meet me at twelve o’clock.--Peggy.’ What in the world does it mean?” He looked round the group of anxious faces, only to see his own expression of bewilderment repeated on each in turn. “Euston! Returning! She is in London. She is coming back from town!” “She ran away to London, to-night when she was so happy, when Arthur had just arrived! Why? Why? Why?” “She must have caught the seven o’clock train.” “She must have left the house almost immediately after going upstairs to dress for dinner.” “Oh, father, why should she go to London?” “I am quite unable to tell you, my dear,” replied the Vicar drily. He looked at his wife’s white, exhausted face, and his eyes flashed with the “A-word-with-you-in-my-study” expression, which argued ill for Miss Peggy’s reception. Mrs. Asplin, however, was too thankful to know of the girl’s safety to have any thought for herself. She began to smile, with the tears still running down her face, and to draw long breaths of relief and satisfaction. “It’s no use trying to guess at that, Millie dear. It is enough for me to know that she is alive and well. We shall just have to try and compose ourselves in patience until we hear Peggy’s own explanation. Let me see! There is nearly an hour before you need set out. What can we do to pass the time as quickly as possible?” “Have some coffee, I should say! None of us have had too much dinner, and a little refreshment would be very welcome after all this strain,” said Arthur, promptly, and Mrs. Asplin eagerly welcomed the suggestion. “That’s what I call a really practical proposal! Ring the bell, dear, and I will order it at once. I am sure we shall all have thankful hearts while we drink it.” She looked appealingly at Mr. Asplin as she spoke, but there was no answering smile on his face. The lines down his cheeks looked deeper and grimmer than ever. “Oh, goody, goody, goodness, aren’t I glad I am not Peggy!” sighed Mellicent to herself, while Arthur Saville pursed his lips together, and thought, “Poor little Peg! She’ll catch it. I’ve never seen the dominie look so savage. This is a nice sort of treat for a fellow who has been ordered away for rest and refreshment! I wish the next two hours were safely over.”