Peg O' My Heart Part 69

"I didn't close my eyes all night," answered the unhappy old lady.

"Isn't that rotten?" said Alaric sympathetically. "I was a bit plungy myself--first one side and then the other." And he yawned and stretched languidly. "Hate to have one's night's rest broken," he concluded. Mrs.

Chichester looked at him sadly.

"What is to be done?" she asked, despair in every note.

"We must get in forty winks during the day some time," he replied, encouragingly.

"No, no, Alaric. I mean about Margaret?"

"Oh! The imp? Nothin' that I can see. She's got it into her stubborn little head that she's had enough of us, and that's the end of it!"

"And the end of our income," summed up Mrs. Chichester, pathetically.

"Well, you were a bit rough on her, mater. Now, I come to think of it we've all been a bit rough on her--except ME. I've made her laugh once or twice--poor little soul. After all, suppose she did want to dance?

What's the use of fussing? LET her, I say. LET her. Better SHE should dance and STAY, than for US to starve if she GOES."

"Don't reproach me, dear. I did my duty. How could I consent to her going? A girl of her age!"

"Girl! Why, they're grown women with families in America at her age."

"Thank G.o.d they're not in England."

"They will be some day, mater. They're kickin' over the traces more and more every day. Watch 'em in a year or two, I say, watch 'em. One time women kept on the pavement. Now they're out in the middle of the road--and in thousands! Mark me! What ho!"

"They are not women!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs. Chichester severely.

"Oh, bless me, yes. They're women all right. I've met 'em. Listened to 'em talk. Some of 'em were rippers. Why, there was one girl I really have rather a fash on. Great big girl she is with a deep voice. She had me all quivery for a while." And his mind ran back over his "Militant"

past and present.

"Just when I had begun to have some hope of her!" Alaric started.

"I didn't know you met her. Do you know Marjory Fairbanks?"

"No," replied Mrs. Chichester, almost sharply: "I mean Margaret."

"Oh! The little devil? Did ye? I never did. Not a hope! I've always felt she ought to have the inscription on dear old Shakespeare's grave waving in front of her all the time 'Good friend, for Heaven's sake forbear.' There's no hope for her, mater. Believe ME."

"I thought that perhaps under our influence--in time--"

"Don't you think it. She will always be a Peter Pan. Never grow up.

She'd play elfish tricks if she had a nursery full of infants."

"But," persisted the old lady, "some GOOD man--one day might change that."

"Ah! But where is he? Good men who'd take a girl like that in hand are very scarce, mater--very scarce indeed. Oh, no. Back she goes to America to-day, and off I go to-morrow to work. Must hold the roof up, mater, and pacify the tradesmen. I've given up the doctor idea--takes too long to make anything. And it's not altogether a nice way to earn your living. No; on the whole, I think--Canada. . ."

Mrs. Chichester rose in alarm

"Canada! my boy!"

"Nice big place--plenty of room. We're all so crowded together here in England. All the professions are chock-full with people waitin' to squeeze in somewhere. Give me the new big countries! England is too old and small. A fellow with my temperament can hardly turn round and take a full breath in an island our size. Out there, with millions of acres to choose from, I'll just squat down on a thousand or so, raise cattle, and in a year or two I'll be quite independent. Then back I'll come here and invest it. See?"

"Don't go away, from me, Alaric. I couldn't bear that."

"All right--if you say so, mater. But it does seem a shame to let all that good land go to waste when it can be had for the asking."

"Well, I'll wander round the fields for a bit, and thrash it all out.

'Stonis.h.i.+ng how clear a fellow's head gets in the open air. Don't you worry, mater--I'll beat the whole thing out by myself."

He patted the old lady gently on the shoulder, and humming a music-hall ballad cheerfully, started off into the garden. He had only gone a few steps when his mother called to him. He stopped. She joined him excitedly.

"Oh, Alaric! There is a way--one way that would save us." And she trembled as she paused, as if afraid to tell him what the alternative was.

"Is there, mater? What is it?"

"It rests with you, dear."

"Does it? Very good. I'll do it."

"Will you?"

"Honour bright, I will."

"Whatever it is?"

"To save you and Ethel and the roof, 'course I will. Now you've got me all strung up. Let me hear it."

She drew him into a little arbour in the rose-garden out of sight and hearing of the open windows.

"Alaric?" she asked, in a tone that suggested their fate hung on his answer: "Alaric! Do you LIKE her?"

"Like whom?"

"Margaret! Do you?"

"Here and there. She amuses me like anything at times. She drew a map of Europe once that I think was the most fearful and wonderful thing I have ever seen. She said it was the way her father would like to see Europe. She had England, Scotland and Wales in GERMANY, and the rest of the map was IRELAND. Made me laugh like anything." And he chuckled at the remembrance.

Suddenly Mrs. Chichester placed both of her hands on his shoulders and with tears in her eyes exclaimed:

"Oh! my boy! Alaric! My son!"

"h.e.l.lo!" cried the astonished youth. "What is it? You're not goin' to cry, are ye?"

She was already weeping copiously as she gasped between her sobs:

"Oh! If you only COULD."

"COULD? WHAT?"