Then, too, were the delightful paddles far up the Severn in Peggy’s canoe, exploring unsuspected little creeks, with now and again a bag in the wild, lonely reaches of the river, followed by a delicious little supper of broiled birds, done to a turn by Aunt Cynthia.  There were, too, moonlight sails in Peggy’s little half-rater, which she handled with a master hand.  As a rule, one of the boys accompanied her, for the mainsail and centerboard were pretty heavy for her to handle unaided, but with Daddy Neil on board—­well, not much was left to be desired.  During that month Peggy learned “how lightly falls the foot of time which only treads on flowers,” and was appalled when she realized that only five more days remained of her father’s leave.

Neil Stewart, upon his part, was sorely perplexed, for it had come to him with an overwhelming force that Peggy was almost a young lady, and to live much longer as she had been living was simply out of the question.  Yet how solve the problem?  He and Dr. Llewellyn talked long and earnestly upon the subject when Peggy was not near, and fully concurred in their view-point; a change must be made, and made right speedily.  Should Peggy be sent to school?  If so, where?  Much depended upon the choice in her case.  Her whole life had been so entirely unlike the average girl’s.  Why she scarcely knew the meaning of companions of her own age of either sex.  Neil Stewart actually groaned aloud as he thought of this.

Dr. Llewellyn suggested a companion for the young girl.

Mr. Stewart groaned again.  Whom should he choose?  So far as he knew there was not a relative, near or remote, to whom he could turn, and a hit-or-miss choice among strangers appalled him.

“I give you my word, Llewellyn, I’m aground—­hard and fast.  I can’t navigate that little cruiser out yonder,” and he nodded toward the lawn where Peggy was giving his first lessons to Roy in submitting to a halter.  It was a pretty picture, too, and one deeply imprinted upon Neil Stewart’s memory.

“We will do our best for her and leave the rest to the dear Lord,” answered the good Doctor, his cameo-like face turned toward the lawn to watch the girl whom he loved as a daughter.  “He will show us the way.  He has never yet failed to.”

“Well, in all reverence, I wish He’d show it before I leave, for I tell you I don’t like the idea of going away and leaving that little girl utterly unprotected.”

“I should call her very well protected,” said Dr. Llewellyn mildly.

“Oh, yes, in a way.  You are here off and on, and the servants all the time, but look at the life she leads, man.  Not a girl friend.  Nothing that other girls have.  I tell you it’s bad navigating and she’ll run afoul rocks or shoals.  It isn’t natural.  For the Lord’s sake do something.  If I could be here a month longer I’d start something or burst everything wide open.  It’s simply got to be changed.”  And Neil Stewart got up from his big East India chair to pace impatiently up and down the broad piazza, now and again giving an absent-minded kick to a hassock, or picking up a sofa pillow to heave it upon a settee, as though clearing the deck for action.  He was deeply perturbed.