disobey me?"

"Sure I had to."

"You HAD to?"

"I did."

"And WHY?"

"'Michael' needed a bath, so I took him down to the say-shore an' gave
him one. He loves the wather, he does."

"Are there no SERVANTS?"

"There ARE sure."

"Isn't that THEIR province?"

"Mebbe. But they hate 'Michael' and I hate THEM. I wouldn't let them
touch him."

"In other words you WILFULLY disobeyed me?"

"I did."

"Is this the way MY NIECE should behave?"

"Mebbe not. It's the way _I_ behave though."

"So my wishes count for nothing?"

The old lady looked so hurt as well as so angry that Peg softened and
hastened to try and make it up with her aunt:

"Sure yer wishes DO count with me, aunt. Indade they do."

"Don't say INDADE. There is no such word. Indeed!" corrected Mrs.
Chichester.

"I beg your pardon, aunt. INDEED they do."

"Look at your dress!" suddenly cried Mrs. Chichester as she caught
sight of the marks of "MICHAEL'S" playfulness.

Peg looked at the stains demurely and said cheerfully "'MICHAEL' did
that. Sure they'll come off."

Mrs. Chichester looked at the flushed face of the young girl, at the
mass of curly hair that had been carefully dressed by Bennett for
dinner and was now hovering around her eyes untidily. The old lady
straightened it:

"Can you not keep your hair out of your eyes? What do you think will
become of you?"

"I hope to go to Heaven, like all good Catholics," said Peg.

Mrs. Chichester turned away with a gesture of despair.

"I give it up! I give it up!" she said, half-crying.

"I should say so," agreed Alaric. "Such rubbish!"

Peg shook her head the moment Mrs. Chichester turned her back, and the
little red curls once more danced in front of her eyes.

"I do everything I can, everything," complained Mrs. Chichester, "but
you--you--" she broke off. "I don't understand you! I don't understand
you!"

"Me father always said that," cried Peg eagerly; "and if HE couldn't
sure how could any one else?"

"Never mind your father," said Mrs. Chichester severely. Peg turned
away.

"What IS it?" continued the old lady. "I say WHAT IS IT?"

"What is WHAT?" asked Peg.

"Is it that you don't wish to improve? Is it THAT?"

"I'll tell ye what I think it is," began Peg helpfully, as if anxious
to reach some satisfactory explanation: "I think there's a little divil
in me lyin' there and every now and again he jumps out."

"A devil?" cried Mrs. Chichester, horrified.

"Yes, aunt," s