The dreadful regent’s examination was to come the next week, and Peggy wanted to study for it.  She had once thought of asking Arna to help her, but Arna seemed so tired.

In the afternoon Esther came to see her chum, and to take her home with her to spend the night.  The babies, fretful with after-Christmas-crossness, were tumbling over their aunt, and sadly interrupting confidences, while Peggy explained that she could not go out that evening.  All the family were going to the church sociable, and she must put the babies to bed.

“I think it’s mean,” Esther broke in.  “Isn’t it your vacation as well as theirs?  Do make that child stop pulling your hair!”

If Esther’s words had only not echoed through Peggy’s head as they did that night!  “But it is so mean of me, so mean of me, to want my own vacation!” sobbed Peggy in the darkness.  “I ought just to be glad they’re all at home.”

Her self-reproach made her readier than ever to wait on them all the next morning.  Nobody could make such buckwheat cakes as could Mrs. Brower; nobody could turn them as could Peggy.  They were worth coming from New York and Baltimore and Ohio to eat.  Peggy stood at the griddle half an hour, an hour, two hours.  Her head was aching.  Hazen, the latest riser, was joyously calling for more.

At eleven o’clock Peggy realized that she had had no breakfast herself, and that her mother was hurrying her off to investigate the lateness of the butcher.  Her head ached more and more, and she seemed strangely slow in her dinner-getting and dish-washing.  Her father was away, and there was no one to help in the clearing-up.  It was three before she had finished.

Outside the sleigh-bells sounded enticing.  It was the first sleighing of the season.  Mabel and Ben had been off for a ride, and Arna and Hazen, too.  How Peggy longed to be skimming over the snow instead of polishing knives all alone in the kitchen.  Sue Cummings came that afternoon to invite Peggy to her party, given in Esther’s honour.  Sue enumerated six other gatherings that were being given that week in honour of Esther’s visit home.  Sue seemed to dwell much on the subject.  Presently Peggy, with hot cheeks, understood why.  Everybody was giving Esther a party, everybody but Peggy herself.  Esther’s own chum, and all the other girls, were talking about it.

Peggy stood at the door to see Sue out, and watched the sleighs fly by.  Out in the sitting-room she heard her mother saying, “Yes, of course we can have waffles for supper.  Where’s Peggy?” Then Peggy ran away.

In the wintry dusk the doctor came stamping in, shaking the snow from his bearskins.  As always, “Where’s Peggy?” was his first question.

Peggy was not to be found, they told him.  They had been all over the house, calling her.  They thought she must have gone out with Sue.  The doctor seemed to doubt this.  He went through the upstairs rooms, calling her softly.  But Peggy was not in any of the bedrooms, or in any of the closets, either.  There was still the kitchen attic to be tried.