Peg O' My Heart Part 49

Brent, gaining complete control of himself, turned to Ethel and, advancing with outstretched hands, murmured:

"My dear!"

Ethel looked coldly at him, ignored the extended hands and asked:

"Why did she run away?" Brent smiled easily and confidently:

"I'd surprised one of her secrets and she flew into a temper. Did you see her strike me?" He waited anxiously for her reply.

"Secrets?" was all Ethel said.

"Yes. See." He walked across to the corner and turned back the carpet and kneeling down searched for the book, found it and held it up triumphantly:

"Here!" He stood up, and opened the book and read the t.i.tle-page:

"'Love Stories o f the World.' 'To Peg from Jerry.' Oho!" cried Mr.

Brent. "Jerry! Eh? No wonder she didn't want me to see it."

He put the book back into its hiding-place and advanced to Ethel:

"Jerry! So that's how the land lies. Romantic little child!"

Ethel looked steadily at him as he came toward her. Something in her look stopped him within a few feet of her.

"Why don't you go after her?" and she nodded in the direction. Peg had gone.

"Ethel!" he cried, aghast.

"She is new and has all the virtues."

"I a.s.sure you" he began--

"You needn't. If there is one thing I am convinced of, it's your a.s.surance."

"Really--Ethel--"

"Were you 'carried away' again?" she sneered.

"Do you think for one moment--" he stopped.

"Yes, I do," answered Ethel positively.

Brent hunted through his mind for an explanation. Finally he said helplessly:

"I--I--don't know what to say."

"Then you'd better say nothing."

"Surely you're not jealous--of a--a--child?"

"No. I don't think it's JEALOUSY," said Ethel slowly.

"Then what is it?" he asked eagerly.

She looked scornfully at him:

"Disgust!" She shrugged her shoulders contemptuously as he tried in vain to find something to say. Then she went on:

"Now I understand why the SCULLERY is sometimes the rival of the DRAWING-ROOM. The love of change!"

He turned away from her. He was hurt. Cut to the quick.

"This is not worthy of you!" was all he said.

"That is what rankles," replied Ethel. "It isn't. YOU'RE not."

"Ethel!" he cried desperately.

"If that ever happened again I should have to AMPUTATE YOU."

Brent walked over to the window-seat where he had left his automobile coat and cap and picked them up.

Ethel watched him quietly.

"Chris! Come here!"

He turned to her.

"There! It's over! I suppose I HAVE been a little hard on you. All forgotten?" She held out her hand. He bent over it.

"My nerves have been rather severely tried this past month," Ethel went on. "Put a mongrel into a kennel of thoroughbreds, and they will either destroy the intruder or be in a continual condition of unsettled, irritated intolerance. That is exactly MY condition. I'm unsettled, irritable and intolerant."

Brent sat beside her and said softly:

"Then I've come in time?"

Ethel smiled as she looked right through him:

"So did I, didn't I?" and she indicated the window through which Peg ran after a.s.saulting Brent.

The young man sprang up reproachfully:

"Don't! Please don't!" he pleaded.

"Very well," replied Ethel complacently, "I won't."

Brent was standing, head down, his manner was crestfallen. He looked the realisation of misery and self-pity.

"I'm sorry, Chris," remarked Ethel finally, after some moments had pa.s.sed. "A month ago it wouldn't have mattered so much. Just now--it does. I'd rather looked forward to seeing you. It's been horrible here."