ttle god (Cupid) upon roses reclining,
We'll make, if you please, sir, a Friendship of him.'

So the bargain was struck; with the little god laden
She joyfully flew to her shrine in the grove:
'Farewell,' said the sculptor, 'you're not the first maiden
Who came but for Friendship and took away--Love.'"

She played the refrain softly after she had finished the song.
Gradually the last note died away.

Jerry looked at her in amazement.

"Where in the world did you learn that?"

"Me father taught it to me," replied Peg simply. "Tom Moore's one of me
father's prayer-books."

Jerry repeated as though to himself:

"'Who came but for FRIENDSHIP and took away LOVE!'"

"Isn't that beautiful?" And Peg's face had a rapt expression as she
looked up at Jerry.

"Do you believe it?" he asked.

"Didn't Tom Moore write it?" she answered.

"Is there anything BETTER than Friendship between man and woman?"

She nodded:

"Indeed there is. Me father felt it for me mother or I wouldn't be here
now. Me father loved me mother with all his strength and all his soul."

"Could YOU ever feel it?" he asked, and there was an anxious look in
his eyes as he waited for her to answer.

She nodded.

"HAVE you ever felt it?" he went on.

"All me life," answered Peg in a whisper.

"As a child, perhaps," remarked Jerry. "Some DAY it will come to you as
a woman and then the whole world will change for you."

"I know," replied Peg softly. "I've felt it comin'."

"Since when?" and once again suspense was in his voice.

"Ever since--ever since--" suddenly she broke off breathlessly and
throwing her arms above her head as though in appeal she cried:

"Oh, I do want to improve meself. NOW I wish I HAD been born a lady.
I'd be more worthy of--"

"WHAT? WHOM?" asked Jerry urgently and waiting anxiously for her answer.

Peg regained control of herself, and cowering down again on to the
piano-stool she went on hurriedly.

"I want knowledge now. I know what you mean by bein' at a disadvantage.
I used to despise learnin'. I've laughed at it. I never will again. Why
I can't even talk yer language. Every wurrd I use is wrong. This book
ye gave me--the 'LOVE STORIES OF THE WORLD,' I've never seen anythin'
like it. I never knew of such people. I didn't dhream what a wondherful
power in the wurrld was the power of love. I used to think it somethin'
to kape to yerself and never spake of out in the open. Now I know it's