"Oh, Billy, ask Peggy if she doesn't want to go for a walk, will you?
There's a lamb," she called to me.
So I happened to have intelligence from pristine sources that they went
walking. And after that Peg had a grouch on and was off her feed the
rest of the vacation--nobody knew why--I didn't myself, even, and it
didn't occur to me that Aunt Elizabeth had probably been rubbing it in
how well she knew Dr. Denbigh. The last day Peggy was home, at the
table, they were chaffing Aunt Elizabeth about him, the way grown-ups
do, instead of talking about the facts of life and different kinds of
horse-feed, which is important in the winter. And I heard mother say in
a "sort-of-vochy" tone to Peggy:
"They really seem to be fond of each other. Perhaps there may be an
engagement to write you about, Peggy."
I thought to myself that mother didn't know that Dr. Denbigh was
prejudiced to being engaged, but I didn't say anything--it's wise not
to say anything to your family beyond the necessary jargon of living.
Peggy seemed to think the same, for she didn't answer a syllabus, but
after dropping her glass of water into the fried potatoes which Lena
was kindly handing to her, she jumped and scooted. A few minutes later
I wanted her to sew a sail on a boat, so I tried her door and it was
locked, and then I knocked and she took an awfully long time simply to
open that door, and when she did her eyes were red and she was
shivering as if she was cold.
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