She sprang to her feet, at sight of him. The smiles fled; but the spells worked on. The two looked into each other’s eyes, questioning, avowing. Without telling, other than the glad surrender in her face, the man knew that the world was changed for them, that the walls were down. All wonder, and great desire, he opened his arms; and, there in the enchanted wood, where “anything might happen,” they met “the Wonderful Thing.”
Pegeen was alone in her garden, when Archibald and the Smiling Lady went to her. As she saw them coming, the soberness that had hung about her since Richard Meredith had left her a half hour earlier melted away, and she ran to meet them with a joyful little cry. It was hard that the two she loved best must have their happiness at the cost of some one else; but, after all, it was glorious that they _were_ happy.
“We’ve been talking about you, Peg,” Archibald said, when they three and Wiggles were comfortably seated on the doorstep—which was quite wide enough for four, if nobody minded crowding—and nobody did—“How would you like to go to boarding school this fall?”
“It wouldn’t be far away, dear,” the Smiling Lady interposed hastily, “and we’ll be living in town after Thanksgiving; so you could spend all your Sundays and holidays with us; and then we’d all be up here together next summer.”
“It’s awfully sweet of you,” Peg was polite but unconvinced. “I’m ever so much obliged; but I guess I’ll stay right here and see to Mrs. Benderby.”
“Oh, I’ll fix Mrs. Benderby up all right,” Archibald promised. “She can board with the Neals. They want a boarder and I’ll give her an allowance that will make her comfortable. Then she won’t have to work except when she feels just like it.”
Pegeen abandoned Mrs. Benderby to a life of idle luxury, but still thought she would stay in the Valley.
“You won’t need me.” Her voice was wistful as she made the admission. “Miss Moran will see to you—and I’m not jealous, not really, you know, only I’m sort of lonesomey. There’s sure to be somebody here in the Valley that’ll need me and I feel as if I’ve just got to have somebody to see to.”
“We’ll always need you, Peg—always.” Archibald’s arm went round her and drew her close. “Even Miss Moran can’t see to me so that I won’t need you. And there are plenty of people here in the Valley who’d be the better for having you with them; but there’s something you haven’t realized yet, dear. The whole world needs seeing to; and there aren’t many people like you who have a genius for doing it. You mustn’t be wasted on two or three neighbors, here in the Valley, when outside, beyond the hills, there are thousands and thousands needing what you could give them. Don’t you see, Peg? You’ve got to reach those poor unhappy thousands and help them. Other women are doing it—doing it wonderfully. Out in Chicago there’s a woman who must have been a girl with a heart like yours; and now she’s seeing to a whole city and to men and women and children out beyond that city, all over the world. She’s only one of the many; and there’s nothing they are doing that you can’t do, if you’ll work your way to it.