er. It was
drawing near the end of the month and she was going to ask her aunt to
let her stay on for another month if her father did not mind. She did
not want him to be unhappy, and if he was miserable without her, why
she would sail back to New York on the very first steamer. He wrote her
a long affectionate letter, telling her that whatever made her happy
would make HIM, too, and that she must not, on any account, think of
returning to New York if she found that she was helping her future by
staying with her aunt. All through the letter he kept up apparent high
spirits, and ended it with a cheery exhortation to stay away from him
just as long as she could; not to think of returning until it was
absolutely necessary.

It was with a heavy heart he posted that letter. Back of his brain he
had hoped all through that month that Peg would refuse to stay any
longer in England.

Her determination to stay was a severe blow to him.

He lived entirely alone in the same rooms he had with Peg when she was
summoned abroad.

He was preparing, in his spare time, a history, of the Irish movement
from twenty years before down to the present day. It was fascinating
work for him, embodying as it did all he had ever felt and thought or
done for the "Great Cause."

In addition to this work--that occupied so many of his free hours--he
would give an occasional lecture on Irish conditions or take part as
adviser in some Irish pageant. He became rapidly one of the best liked
and most respected of the thoughtful, active, executive Irishmen in New
York City.

The night of the day following the incidents in the preceding
chapter--incidents that determined Peg's future--O'Connell was sitting
in his little work room, surrounded by books of reference, and loose
sheets of manuscript, developing his great work--the real work of his
life--because in it he would incorporate everything that would further
the march of advancement in Ireland--to work and thought and government
by her people.

A ring at the bell caused O'Connell to look up frowningly. He was not
in the habit of receiving calls. Few people ever dared to intrude on
his privacy. He preferred to be alone with his work. It passed the time
of separation from Peg quicker than in any other way.

He opened the door and looked in amazement at his visitor. He saw a
little, round, merry-looking, bald-headed gentleman with gold-rimmed
spectacles, an enormous silk-hat, broad cloth frock-coat