lly,
all of you, and the dresses were a sight to behold. As for Peggy, she's
a witch, and could make up costumes on a desert island, if she were put
to it! But I don't know what is going to happen to my poor, dear boy's
face. Oswald, what is he doing? Isn't he coming to have some lemonade
and cake?" asked Mrs Asplin anxiously. And Oswald chuckled in a
heartless fashion.

"Pride must abide. He would be Shylock, whether we liked it or not, so
let him take the consequences. He is fighting it out with cold cream in
the bathroom, and some of the horsehair sticks like fun. I'll go up and
tell him we have eaten all the cake. He was getting savage when I came
down, and it will sweeten his temper!"

CHAPTER TWELVE.

PEGGY IN TROUBLE.

As Peggy sat writing in the study one afternoon, a shaggy head came
peering round the door, and Robert's voice said eagerly--"Mariquita! A
word in your ear! Could you come out and take a turn round the garden
for half an hour before tea, or are you too busy?"

"Not at all. I am entirely at your disposal," said Peggy elegantly; and
the young people made their way to the cloak-room, swung on coats and
sailor hats, and sallied out into the fresh autumn air.

"Mariquita," said Robert then, using once more the name by which he
chose to address Peggy in their confidential confabs, "Mariquita, I am
in difficulties! There is a microscope advertised in _Science_ this
week, that is the very thing I have been pining for for the last six
years. I must _get_ it, or die; but the question is--_how_? You see
before you a penniless man." He looked at Peggy as he spoke, and met
her small, demure smile.

"My dear and honourable sir--"

"Yes, yes, I know; drop that, Mariquita! Don't take for granted, like
Mellicent, that because a man has a title he must necessarily be a
millionaire. Everything is comparative! My father is rich compared to
the vicar, but he is really hard-up for a man in his position. He gets
almost no rent for his land nowadays, and I am the third son. I haven't
as much pocket-money in a month as Oswald gets through in a week. Now
that microscope costs twenty pounds, and if I were to ask the governor
for it, he wouldn't give it to me, but he would sigh and look wretched
at being obliged to refuse. He's a kind-hearted fellow, you know, who
doesn't like to say `No,' and I hate to worry him. Still--that
microscope! I must have it. By hook or by crook, I must have