will be wuth more'n a
million,--yes, two millions, probably, and you have refused him! Do you
hear me, gal?'

He yelled this last, for something in Jerry's attitude made him think
Jerrie was not giving him her undivided attention, for she was still
listening to the music, which seemed to swell higher and higher, louder
and clearer, until it almost drowned the voice of the man demanding a
second time so fiercely:

'Do you hear me, gal?'

'Yes, I hear you,' she said. 'You are talking of Harold, and saying
things you shall not repeat in my presence.'

'Hoity-toity, miss! What's to hinder me repeatin' in your presence that
Harold Hastings is a sneak and a snob, a hewer of wood, a drawer of
water, and a--'

Jerrie had risen to her feet, and stood up so tall and straight that, it
seemed to Peterkin as if she towered even above himself, while something
in the flash of her blue eyes made him think of Arthur when he turned
him from the house for accusing Harold of theft, and also of the little
child who had attacked him so fiercely on that wintry morning when the
dead woman lay stretched upon the table at the Park House, with her dark
face upturned to the ceiling above.

'I shall hinder you,' she said, her voice ringing clear and distinct;
'and if you breathe another word against Harold, I'll turn you from this
room. The Tramp House is mine; Mr. Arthur gave it to me, and you cannot
stay in it with me.'

"Heavens and earth! hear the girl! One would s'pose she was the Queen of
Sheby to hear her go on, instead of a beggar, whose father was the Lord
only knows who, and whose mother was found in rags on this 'ere table.
Drat the dum thing!" Peterkin roared, bringing his fist down with such
force upon the poor old rickety table that it fell to pieces under the
blow and went crashing to the floor.

Jerrie's face was a face to fear then, and Peterkin was afraid, and
backed himself out of the room, with Jerrie close to him, never speaking
a word, but motioning him to the door, through which he passed swiftly,
and picking up his bag, walked rapidly away, growling to himself:

'There's the very Old Harry in that gal's eye. Bill did well to get shet
of her; and yit, if she'd married him, how she would have rid over all
their heads! Well, to be sure, what a dum fool she is!'

CHAPTER XLI.

WHAT JERRIE FOUND UNDER THE FLOOR.

Meantime Jerrie had gone back to the wreck of the table, which she tried
to straighten up, ha