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A cry welled up from Peg's heart to her lips, and was stifled. The room swam around her.
Was all her misery to end?
Did this man come back from the mists of memory BECAUSE he loved her?
She tried to speak but nothing came from her parched lips and tightened throat.
Then she became conscious that he was speaking again, and she listened to him with all her senses, with all her heart, and from her soul.
"I knew you would never write to me, and somehow I wondered just how much you cared for me--if at all. So I came here. I love you, Peg. I want you to be my wife. I want to care for you, and tend you, and make you happy. I love you!"
Her heart leaped and strained. The blood surged to her temples.
"Do you love me?" she whispered, and her voice trembled and broke.
"I do. Indeed I do. Be my wife."
"But you have a t.i.tle," she pleaded
"Share it with me!" he replied.
"Ye'd be so ashamed o' me, ye would!"
"No, Peg, I'd be proud of you. I love you!"
Peg, unable to argue or plead, or strive against what her heart yearned for the most, broke down and sobbed as she murmured:
"I love you, too, Mister Jerry."
In a moment she was in his arms.
It was the first time anyone had touched her tenderly besides her father. All her st.u.r.dy, boyish ruggedness shrank from any display of affection. Just for a moment it did now. Then she slowly yielded herself.
But Jerry stroked her hair, and looked into her eyes and smiled down at her lovingly, as he asked:
"What will your father say?"
She looked happily up at him and answered:
"Do you know one of the first things me father taught me when I was just a little child?"
"Tell me!"
"It was from Tom Moore: 'Oh, there's nothin' half so sweet in life As Love's young dream.'"
When O'Connell came into the room later he realised that the great summons had come to his little girl.
He felt a dull pain at his heart.
But only for a moment.
The thought came to him that he was about to give to England his daughter in marriage! Well, had he not taken from the English one of her fairest daughters as his wife?
And a silent prayer went up from his heart that happiness would abide with his Peg and her 'Jerry' and that their romance would last longer than had Angela's and his.
AFTERWORD
And now the moment has come to take leave of the people I have lived with for so long. Yet, though I say "Adieu!" I feel it is only a temporary leave-taking. Their lives are so linked with mine that some day in the future I may be tempted to draw back the curtain and show the pa.s.sage of years in their various lives.
Simultaneously with the Second-Reading of the Home Rule Bill pa.s.sing through the English House of Commons, O'Connell published his book.
Setting down clearly, without pa.s.sion or prejudice, the actual facts of the ancient and modern struggle for Ireland's freedom, and foreshadowing the coming of the New Era of prosperity and enlightenment and education and business integrity--O'Connell found himself hailed, as a modern prophet.
He appealed to them to BEG no longer but to cooperate, to organize--above all to WORK and to work consistently and intelligently.
He appealed to the Irish working in factories and work-shops and in civil appointments in the great cities of the world, to come back to Ireland, and, once again to wors.h.i.+p at the shrine of the beauty of G.o.d's Country! To open their eyes and their hearts to all the light and glory and wonder which G.o.d gives to the marvellous world He has made for humanity. To see the Dawn o'er mountain and lake; scent the gra.s.s and the incense of the flowers, and the sweet breath of the land. To grasp the real and tumultuous magnificence of their native country.
He appealed to all true Irishmen to take up their lives again in the land from which, they were driven, and to be themselves the progenitors of Ireland's New Nation.
It will not be long before his appeal will be answered and his prophecy fulfilled.
The Dawn of the New Ireland has begun to shed its light over the country, and the call of Patriotism will bring Irishmen from the farthest limits of the world, as it drove them away in the bitter time of blood and strife and ignorance and despotism.
Those days have pa.s.sed. O'Connell was in the thick o the battle in his youth; in his manhood he now sees the fruit of the conflict.
Some day, with him, we will visit Peg in her English home, and see the marvels time and love have wrought upon her. But to those who knew her in the old days she is still the same Peg O' my Heart--resolute, loyal, unflinching, mingling the laugh with the tear--truth and honesty her bed-rock.
And whilst we are in London we will drop into the Law-Courts and hear Alaric Chichester, now Barrister-at-Law, argue his first case and show the possibility of following in his famous father's footsteps.
We will also visit Mrs. Chichester and hear of her little grand-child, born in Berlin, where her daughter, Ethel, met and married an attache at the Emba.s.sy, and has formed a salon in which the ill.u.s.trious in the Diplomatic world foregather.
It will be a grateful task to revive old memories of those who formed the foreground of the life-story of one whose radiant presence shall always live in my memory: whose steadfastness and courage endeared her to all; whose influence on those who met her and watched her and listened to her was far-reaching, since she epitomized in her small body all that makes woman loveable and man supreme: honour, faith and Love!
Adieu! Peg O' my Heart!