"That's very IRISH," sneered Ethel.
"Faith I think it's very human," answered Peg. "I wish ye had some more of it, Ethel, acushla." Ethel walked away as though to dismiss the whole subject. It was most distasteful to her:
"It is not customary for girls to talk about such things."
"I know it isn't," said Peg. "An' the more's the pity. Why shouldn't we discuss events of national importance? We THINK about them—very well! why shouldn't we TALK about them. Why shouldn't girls be taught to be honest with each other? I tell ye if there was more honesty in this wurrld there wouldn't be half the sin in it, that there wouldn't."
"Really—" began Ethel—
"Let US be honest with each other, Ethel," and Peg went right over to her and looked at her compassionately.
"What do ye mean?" said Ethel with a sudden contraction of her breath.
"You like Mr. Brent, don't ye?"
So! the moment had come. The little spy had been watching her. Well, she would fight this common little Irish nobody to the bitter end. All the anger in her nature surged uppermost as Ethel answered Peg—but she kept her voice under complete control and once more put the letter behind her back.
"Certainly I like Mr. Brent. He is a very old friend of the family!"