"Jarvis," she said, "me dog 'MICHAEL' is outside there, tied up to the door. He's had a fight an' he's tired. Will ye put him to bed for me like a good boy?"
Jarvis went out disgustedly, untied the dog and put him in the kennel that had been specially made for him.
Poor Jarvis's life this last month had been most unhappy. The smooth and peaceful order of things in the house had departed. The coming of the "niece" had disturbed everything. Many were the comments below stairs on the intruder. The following is an example of the manner in which Peg was regarded by the footman and Mrs. Chichester's own maid, Bennett.
"A NIECE!" cried Bennett, sarcastically, just after Peg's arrival.
"So they SAY!" retorted Jarvis, mysteriously.
"What do you make of her?"
"Well, every family I've served and my mother before me, had a family skeleton. SHE is OURS."
"Why, she hadn't a rag to her back when she came here. I'd be ashamed to be dressed as she was. You should have seen the one she goes to Mass in!"
"I did," said Jarvis indignantly. "All wrapped up in the 'Irish Times.' Then I got ragged for putting her in the kitchen. Looked too good for her. And that dog! Can't go near it without it trying to bite me. I don't approve of either of 'em comin' into a quiet family like ours."
Just then the bell called him to the drawing-room and further discussion of Peg and "MICHAEL" was deferred to a more suitable opportunity.