Peg O' My Heart Part 51

"Mr. Hawkes telegraphs he will call to-morrow for his first report.

What can I tell him?"

"What WILL you?" asked Alaric.

"Am I to tell him that every tutor I've engaged for her resigned? Not one stays more than a week. Can I tell him THAT?"

"You could, mater dear: but would it be wise?"

Mrs. Chichester went on:

"Am I to tell him that no maid will stay with her? That she shows no desire to improve? That she mimics and angers her teachers, refuses to study and plays impish tricks like some mischievous little elf? Am I to tell him THAT?"

"Serve her jolly well right if you did. Eh, Ethel?" said Alaric. "It would," replied Ethel.

At that moment the footman and the maid both entered from the garden very much out of breath. "I've searched everywhere, madam. Not a sign of her," said Bennett.

"Not in the stables, nor up or down the road. And the DOG'S missin', madam," added Jarvis.

Ethel sprang up. "'PET'?"

"No, miss. SHE'S gnawin' a bone on the lawn. The OTHER."

"That will do," and Mrs. Chichester dismissed them.

As they disappeared through the door, the old lady said appealingly to her children:

"Where IS she?"

"Heaven knows," said Alaric.

"Oh, if I could only throw the whole business up."

"Wish to goodness we COULD. But the monthly cheque will be useful to-morrow, mater."

"That's it! That's it!" cried the unhappy woman.

"No one seems particularly anxious to s.n.a.t.c.h at MY services as yet,"

said Alaric. "Course it's a dull time, Jerry tells me. But there we are. Not tuppence comin' in and the butcher's to be paid--likewise the other mouth-fillers. See where I'm comin'?"

"Have I not lain awake at night struggling with it?" replied the poor lady, almost on the verge of tears.

"Well, I'll tell you what," said the hope of the family; "I'll tell you what we'll do. Let's give the little beggar another month of it. Let her off lightly THIS time, and the moment the lawyer-bird's gone, read her the riot-act. Pull her up with a jerk. Ride her on the curb and NO ROT!"

"We could try," and Mrs. Chichester wiped her eyes: "Of course she HAS improved in her manner. For THAT we have to thank Ethel." She looked affectionately at her daughter and choked back a sob. "Who could live near dear Ethel and NOT improve?"

"Ah! There we have it!" agreed Alaric.

"But I don't know how much of the improvement is genuine and how much pretended," gasped his mother.

"There we go again. She's got us fairly gravelled," said Alaric despondently.

"Of course I can truthfully tell him that, at times, she is very tractable and obedient."

"AT TIMES! About two minutes a week! When Jerry's around. How on earth he puts up with her I can't understand. She follows him about like a little dog. Listens to him. Behaves herself. But the moment he's gone--Poof! back she goes to her old tricks. I tell you she's a freak!"

and Alaric dismissed the matter, and sat back fanning himself.

"Can I tell Mr. Hawkes that?" asked Mrs. Chichester.

"No," replied Alaric. "But I WOULD say that the thousand a year is very hardly earned. Nat ought to have made it ten thousand. Dirt cheap at THAT. Tell him that out of respect for the dead man's wishes, we shall continue the job and that on the whole we have HOPES.

SLIGHT--BUT--HOPES!"

In through the open windows came the sound of dogs barking furiously.

Ethel sprang up crying:

"'Pet!'" and hurried out into the garden.

Mrs. Chichester and Alaric went to the windows and looked out.

"Margaret!" cried Mrs. Chichester.

"And the mongrel! She's urgin' him on. The terrier's got 'Pet' now."

Alaric called out to the little poodle: "Fight him, old girl! Maul him!

Woa there! 'Pet's' down. There is Ethel on the scene," he cried as Ethel ran across the lawn and picked up the badly treated poodle.

"Go and separate them," urged Mrs. Chichester.

"Not me," replied Alaric. "Ethel can handle 'em. I hate the little brutes. All hair and teeth. I cannot understand women coddling those little messes of snarling, smelly wool."

Ethel came indignantly into the room soothing the excited and ruffled "Pet." She was flushed and very angry. How dare that brat let her mongrel touch the aristocratic poodle?

A moment later Peg entered with the victorious "Michael" cradled in her arms. She had a roguish look of triumph in her eyes. Down the front of her charming new dress were the marks of "Michael's" muddy paws. Peg was also breathing quickly, and evidently more than a little excited.

"Take that animal out of the room!" cried Mrs. Chichester indignantly the moment Peg appeared.

Peg turned and walked straight out into the garden and began playing with "Michael" on the gra.s.s.

Mrs. Chichester waited for a few moments, then called out to her:

"Margaret!" Then more sharply: "Margaret! Come here! Do you hear me?"

Peg went on playing with "Michael" and just answered: "I hear ye."

"Come here at once!"

"Can 'Michael' come in too?" came from the garden.

"You come in and leave that brute outside."