Peg O' My Heart Part 57

Peg interrupted:

"Why, I never saw ye excited before:--not a bit of colour in yer cheeks till now--except TWICE. Ye look just as ye did when Mr. Brent followed that OLD and RESPECTED custom on yer hand," cried Peg.

Ethel answered, this time, excitedly and indignantly, giving full and free vent to her just anger:

"Be good enough never to speak to me again as long as you're in this house. If I had MY way you'd leave it this moment. As it is--as it is--" her voice rose almost to a scream: her rage was unbridled.

What more she might have said was checked by the door opening and Jarvis showing in Jerry.

Jerry walked cheerfully and smilingly into the roam and was amazed to find the two young ladies glaring at each other and apparently in the midst of a conflict.

All power of speech left him as he stood looking in amazement at the combatants.

CHAPTER VIII

THE TEMPLE OF FRIENDSHIP

Ethel was the first to recover her equanimity.

She came down the steps, greeted Jerry with a genial handshake, asked to be excused for a moment, and after halting the departing Jarvis she went over to the writing-desk, opened the envelope, added a postscript, addressed a new envelope, put the augmented epistle inside it, sealed it, handed it to Jarvis, saying:

"Send that at once. No answer."

As Jarvis left the room, Ethel turned to speak to Jerry. Meanwhile, that young gentleman had greeted Peg:

"And how is Miss Peg this evening?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Jerry, thank ye." She looked at him admiringly. He was in evening dress, a light overcoat was thrown across his arm and a Homburg hat in his hand.

"Let me take your hat and coat?" she suggested.

"No, thank you," said Jerry, "I'm not going to stay."

"Aren't ye?" she asked disappointedly.

"Is your aunt in?"

"Yes, she's in. Is it HER ye've come to see?"

"Yes," replied Jerry.

At that moment Ethel joined them.

"I came over to ask Mrs. Chichester's permission for you two young ladies to go to a dance to-night. It's just across from here at the a.s.sembly rooms."

Peg beamed joyfully. It was just what she wanted to do. Ethel viewed the suggestion differently: "It's very kind of you," she said; "but it's quite impossible."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Peg.

"Impossible?" exclaimed Jerry.

"I'm sorry," and Ethel went to the door.

"So am I," replied Jerry regretfully. "I would have given you longer notice only it was made up on the spur of the moment. Don't you think you could?"

"I don't care for dancing. Besides,--my head aches."

"What a pity," exclaimed the disappointed young man. Then he said eagerly: "Do you suppose your mother would allow Miss Margaret to go?"

"I'll ask her," and Ethel left the room.

Peg ran across, stopped the door from closing and called after Ethel:

"I didn't mean to hurt ye--indade I didn't. I wanted to talk to ye, that was all--an' ye made me angry--" Ethel disappeared without even turning her head.

Peg came into the room ruefully, and sat down on the sofa. She was thoroughly unhappy.

Jerry looked at her a moment, walked over to her and asked her: "What's the matter?"

"One of us girls has been brought-up all wrong. I tried to make friends with her just now and only made her angry, as I do every one in this house whenever I open my mouth."

"Aren't you friends?"

"Indade--INDEED--INDEED--we're NOT. None of them are with me."

"What a shame!"

"Wait until ye hear what me aunt says when ye ask her about the dance!"

"Don't you think she'll let you go?"

"No. I do NOT." She looked at him quizzically for a moment. Then she burst out laughing. He was glad to see her spirits had returned and wondered as to the cause. She looked up at him, her eyes dancing with mischief:

"Misther Jerry, will ye take me all the same if me aunt doesn't consent?"

"Why, Peg--" he began, astonishedly.

"But I haven't got an evenin' dress. Does it matter?"

"Not in the least, but--"

"Will this one do?"

"It's very charming--still--"