Peg O' My Heart Part 74

"Is that FINAL?"

"It's the most final thing there is in the wurrld," replied Peg, on the brink of an outburst of laughter.

Alaric looked so anxious and crestfallen now--in sharp contrast to his att.i.tude of triumph a few moments before.

To her amazement the gloom lifted from her cousin's countenance. He took a deep breath, looked at her in genuine relief, and cried out heartily:

"I say! You're a BRICK!"

"Am I?" asked Peg.

"It's really awfully good of you. Some girls in your position would have jumped at me. Positively JUMPED!"

"WOULD they--poor things!"

"But YOU--why, you're a genuine, little, hall-marked 'A number one brick'! I'm extremely obliged to you."

He took her little hand and shook it warmly.

"You're a plucky little girl, that's what you are--a PLUCKY--LITTLE--GIRL. I'll never forget it--NEVER. If there is anythin'

I can do--at any time--anywhere--call on me. I'll be there--right on the spot."

He heard his mother's voice, speaking to Jarvis, in the room below. At the same moment he saw Ethel walking toward them along the corridor.

He said hurriedly and fervently to Peg:

"Bless you, cousin. You've taken an awful load off my mind. I was really worried. I HAD to ask you. Promised to. See you before you go!

h.e.l.lo! Ethel! All right? Good!" Without waiting for an answer, the impulsive young gentleman went on up to his own room to rejoice over his escape.

Peg walked over and took Ethel by both hands and looked into the tired, anxious eyes.

"Come into my room," she whispered.

Without a word, Ethel followed her into the Mauve Room.

CHAPTER XV

MONTGOMERY HAWKES

On the 30th day of June, Mr. Montgomery Hawkes glanced at his appointments for the following day and found the entry: "Mrs.

Chichester, Scarboro--in re Margaret O'Connell."

He accordingly sent a telegram to Mrs. Chichester, acquainting her with the pleasant news that she might expect that distinguished lawyer on July 1, to render an account of her stewards.h.i.+p of the Irish agitator's child.

As he entered a first-cla.s.s carriage on the Great Northern Railway at King's Cross station next day, bound for Scarboro, he found himself wondering how the experiment, dictated by Kingsnorth on his death-bed, had progressed. It was a most interesting case. He had handled several, during his career as a solicitor, in which bequests were made to the younger branches of a family that had been torn by dissension during the testator's lifetime, and were now remembered for the purpose of making tardy amends.

But in those cases the families were all practically of the same caste.

It would be merely benefiting them by money or land. Their education had already been taken care of. Once the bequest was arranged all responsibility ended.

The O'Connell-Kingsnorth arrangement was an entirely different condition of things altogether. There were so many provisions each contingent on something in the character of the beneficiary. He did not regard the case with the same equanimity he had handled the others. It opened up so many possibilities of difficulty, and the object of Mr.

Kingsnorth's bequest was such an amazing young lady to endeavour to do anything with. He had no preconceived methods to employ in the matter.

It was an experiment where his experience was of no use. He had only to wait developments, and, should any real crisis arise, consult with the Chief Executor.

By the time he reached Scarboro he had arranged everything in his mind.

It was to be a short and exceedingly satisfactory interview and he would be able to catch the afternoon express back to London.

He pictured Miss O'Connell as being marvellously improved by her gentle surroundings and eager to continue in them. He was sure he would have a most satisfactory report to make to the Chief Executor.

As he walked up the beach-walk he was humming gaily an air from "Girofle-Girofla." He was entirely free from care and annoyance. He was thinking what a fortunate young lady Miss O'Connell was to live amid such delightful surroundings. It would be many a long day before she would ever think of leaving her aunt.

All of which points to the obvious fact that even gentlemen with perfectly-balanced legal brains, occasionally mis-read the result of force of character over circ.u.mstances.

He was shown into the music-room and was admiring a genuine Greuze when Mrs. Chichester came in.

She greeted him tragically and motioned him to a seat beside her.

"Well?" he smiled cheerfully. "And how is our little protegee?"

"Sit down," replied Mrs. Chichester, sombrely.

"Thank you."

He sat beside her, waited a moment, then, with some sense of misgiving, asked: "Everything going well, I hope?"

"Far from it." And Mrs. Chichester shook her head sadly.

"Indeed?" His misgivings deepened.

"I want you to understand one thing, Mr. Hawkes," and tears welled up into the old lady's eyes: "I have done my best."

"I am sure of that, Mrs. Chichester," a.s.sured the lawyer, growing more and more apprehensive.

"But she wants to leave us to-day. She has ordered cab. She is packing now."

"Dear, dear!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the bewildered solicitor. "Where is she going?"

"Back to her father."

"How perfectly ridiculous. WHY?"

"I had occasion to speak to her severely--last night. She grew very angry and indignant--and--now she has ordered a cab."

"Oh!" and Hawkes laughed easily. "A little childish temper. Leave her to me. I have a method with the young. Now--tell me--what is her character? How has she behaved?"