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She added grudgingly, "He is a kind gentleman, and no mistake." "Indeed he is! I'm glad that you see that now, Pegler." Miss Farrow spoke with a touch of meaning in her voice. "I did a very good turn for myself when I got him out of that queer scrape years ago." "Why yes, ma'am, I suppose you did." But Pegler's tone was not as hearty as that of her lady. There was a pause.
Bounderby, with his hands in his pockets, walked in impatient mortification up and down at the side of the long dining-table, while the spectators greedily took in every syllable of Mrs. Pegler's appeal, and at each succeeding syllable became more and more round-eyed. Mr. Bounderby still walking up and down when Mrs. Pegler had done, Mr.
And as if Varick had guessed part of what was passing through her mind, "Any news of the ghost, Blanche?" he asked jokingly. "How's my friend Pegler this morning?" "Pegler's quite all right! I'm the person who ought to have seen the ghost but of course I neither saw nor heard anything."
The sight of the girl affected her painfully; but it also intensified her longing for what she had heard called "a private sitting." "Lionel is showing Miss Brabazon over the house. She's very much thrilled over Pegler's experience. I can't make that girl out can you, Bubbles?" Miss Farrow drew nearer to the fire. "She's such a queer mixture of shrewdness and simplicity," she went on.
'A widder, I think? said Stephen. 'Oh, many long years! Mrs. Pegler's calculation, when Stephen was born. ''Twere a bad job, too, to lose so good a one, said Stephen. 'Onny children? Mrs. Pegler's cup, rattling against her saucer as she held it, denoted some nervousness on her part. 'No, she said. 'Not now, not now. 'Dead, Stephen, Rachael softly hinted.
If she had really done this, Bubbles had played an ungrateful, cruel trick on Lionel Varick. Blanche at last dropped off to sleep, but Pegler's ridiculous yet sinister story had spoilt the pleasant memories of her day, and even her night, for she slept badly, and awoke unrefreshed.
"D'you really mean that you won't sleep next door to-night, Pegler?" "I wouldn't be fit to do my work to-morrow if I did, ma'am." And Miss Farrow quite understood that that was Pegler's polite way of saying that she most definitely did refuse to sleep in the room next door. "I wish the ghost had come in here, instead of worrying you!"
She realized with a sharp pang of concern what Pegler's mental defection would mean to her. It would be dreadful, dreadful, if Pegler began seeing ghosts, and turning hysterical. "What was the spirit like?" she asked quietly. And then, all at once, she had to suppress a violent inclination to burst out laughing. For Pegler answered with a kind of cry, "A 'orrible happarition, ma'am!"
Pegler's a most sensible person, yet she's quite convinced that she saw the ghost of the woman who is believed to have killed her little stepson in the room next to that in which I am now sleeping." And then as she saw a rather peculiar look flit over her companion's face, she added quickly: "D'you think that you have seen anything since you've been here, Miss Brabazon?" Helen hesitated.
And then, to the speaker's extreme surprise, there came a sudden change over Pegler's face. Her pale countenance flushed, it became discomposed, and she turned her head away to hide the springing tears. Miss Farrow was touched; as much touched as her rather hard nature would allow her to be. This woman had been her good and faithful friend, as well as servant, for over twelve years.
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