e."

She stood restlessly a moment, her hands beating each other alternately.

"I get so lonesome for him," she said.

Suddenly with a tone of definite resolve in her voice she started up
the stairs, calling over her shoulder:

"I'm goin' back to him now. Good-bye!" and she ran all the way upstairs.

Jerry followed her--pleading insistently:

"Wait! Please wait!" She stopped at the top of the stairs and looked
down at him.

"Give us one month's trial--one month!" he urged. "It will be very
little, out of your life and I promise you your father will not suffer
through it except in losing you for that one little month. Will you?
Just a month?"

He spoke so earnestly and seemed so sincerely pained and so really
concerned at-her going, that she came down a few steps and looked at
him irresolutely:

"Why do you want me to stay?" she asked him.

"Because--because your late uncle was my friend. It was his last wish
to do something for you. Will you? Just a month?"

She struggled, with the desire to go away from all that was so foreign
and distasteful to her. Then she looked at Jerry and realised, with
something akin to a feeling of pleasure, that he was pleading with her
to stay, and doing it in such a way as to suggest that it mattered to
him. She had to admit to herself that she rather liked the look of him.
He seemed honest, and even though he were English he did show an
interest whenever she spoke of her father and he had promised to try
and learn something about Ireland. That certainly was in his
favour--just as the fact that he could laugh was, too. Quickly the
thoughts ran hot-foot through Peg's brain: After all to run away now
would look cowardly. Her father would be ashamed of her. This stuck-up
family would laugh at her. That thought was too much. The very
suggestion of Alaric laughing at her caused a sudden rush of blood to
her head. Her temples throbbed. Instantly she made up her mind.

She would stay. Turning to Jerry, she said: "All right, then. I'll
stay--a month. But not any more than a month, though!"

"Not unless you wish it."

"I won't wish it--I promise ye that. One month'll be enough in this
house. It's goin' to seem like a life-time."

"I'm glad," said Jerry, smiling.

"Ye're glad it's goin' to seem like a life-time?"

"No, no!" he corrected her hastily; "I am glad you're going to stay."

"Well, that's a comfort anyway. Some one'll be pleased at me stayin'."
And she came down the st