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."