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.
"I am sorry; I know it was careless. I am always doing things like that. So is Arthur. So was father when he was a boy. It's in the family. It's unfortunate, but----"
"Mariquita," said the Vicar sternly, "you are _not_ sorry! If I had seen that you were penitent, I should not have spoken, for you would have been sufficiently punished by your own sufferings, but you are not sorry; you are, on the whole, rather proud of the escapade! Look into your own heart and see if it is not so?"
He paused, looking at her with grave, expectant eyes, but there was no sign of conviction upon the set face. The eyes were still lowered, the lips drooped with an expression of patient endurance. There was silence in the room while Peggy studied the carpet, and the Vicar gazed at her downcast face. A moment before he had been on the verge of anger, but the sternness melted away in that silence, and gave place to an anxious tenderness. Here was a little human soul committed to his care--how could he help? how best guide and train? The long, grave face grew beautiful in that moment with the expression which it wore every Sunday as he gazed around the church at the beginning of the sermon, noting this one and that, having a swift realisation of their needs and failings, and breathing a prayer to God that He would give to his lips the right word, to his heart the right thought to meet the needs of his people. Evidently sternness and outspoken blame was not the best way to touch the girl before him. He must try another mode.