Peg O' My Heart Part 73

"NO, I'm tellin' ye. Who is it?"

"YOU!"

The moment had come. The die was cast. His life was in the hands of Fate--and of Peg. He waited breathlessly for the effect.

Peg looked at him in blank astonishment.

All expression had left her face.

Then she leaned back against the bal.u.s.trade and laughed long and unrestrainedly. She laughed until the tears came coursing down her cheeks.

Alaric was at first nonplussed. Then he grasped the situation in its full significance. It was just a touch of hysteria. He joined her and laughed heartily as well.

"Aha!" he cried, between laughs: "That's a splendid sign. Splendid!

I've always been told that girls CRY when they're proposed to."

"Sure, that's what I'm doin'," gasped Peg. "I'm cryin'--laughin'."

Alaric suddenly checked his mirth and said seriously:

"'Course ye must know, cousin, that I've nothin' to offer you except a life-long devotion: a decent old name--and--my career--when once I get it goin'. I only need an incentive to make no end of a splash in the world. YOU would be my incentive." Peg could hardly believe her ears.

She looked at Alaric while her eyes danced mischievously.

"Go on!" she said. "Go on. Sure, ye're doin' fine!"

"Then it's all right?" he asked fervently.

"Faith! I think it's wondherful."

"Good. Excellent. But--there are one or two little things to be settled first."

Even as the victorious general, with the capitulated citadel, it was time to dictate terms. Delays in such matters, Alaric had often been told, were unwise. A clear understanding at the beginning saved endless complications afterwards.

"Just a few little things," he went on, "such as a little OBEDIENCE--that's most essential. A modic.u.m of care about ORDINARY things,--for instance, about dress, speech, hair, et ectera--and NO 'Michael.'"

"Oh!" cried Peg dejectedly, while her eyes beamed playfully:

"Sure, couldn't I have 'Michael'?"

"No," he said firmly. It was well she should understand that once and for all. He had never in a long experience, seen a dog he disliked more.

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

Prepared to, at any rate, compromise, rather than have an open rupture, he hastened to modify his att.i.tude:

"At least NOT in the HOUSE."

"In the STABLES?" queried Peg.

"We'd give him a jolly little kennel somewhere, if you really wanted him, and you could see him--say TWICE a day."

He felt a thrill of generosity as he thus unbent from his former rigid att.i.tude.

"Then it wouldn't be 'love me love my dog'?" quizzed Peg.

"Well, really, you know, one cannot regulate one's life by proverbs, cousin. Can one?" he reasoned.

"But 'Michael' is all I have in the wurrld, except me father. Now, what could ye give me instead of him?"

Here was where a little humour would save the whole situation. Things were becoming strained--and over a dog.

Alaric would use his SUBTLER humour--keen as bright steel--and turn the edge of the discussion.

"What can I give you instead of 'Michael'?"

He paused, laughed cheerfully and bent tenderly aver her and whispered:

"MYSELF, dear cousin! MYSELF!" and he leaned back and watched the effect. A quick joke at the right moment had so often saved the day. It would again, he was sure. After a moment he whispered softly:

"What do you say--dear cousin?"

Peg looked up at him, innocently, and answered:

"Sure, I think I'd rather have 'Michael'--if ye don't mind."

He started forward: "Oh, come, I say! You don't MEAN that?"

"I do," she answered decidedly.

"But think--just for one moment--of the ADVANTAGES?"

"For you, or for me?" asked Peg.

"For YOU--of course," replied the disappointed Alaric.

"I'm thryin' to--but I can only think of 'Michael. Sure, I get more affection out of his bark of greetin' than I've ever got from a human bein' in England. But then he's IRISH. No, thank ye, all the same. If it makes no difference to ye, I'd rather have 'Michael.'"

"You don't mean to say that you REFUSE me?" he asked blankly.

"If ye don't mind," replied Peg meekly.

"You actually decline my HAND and--er--HEART?"

"That's what I do."

"Really?" He was still unable to believe it. He wanted to hear her refusal distinctly.

"Ralely," replied Peg, gravely.