"I'm sorry," and Ethel went to the door.
"So am I," replied Jerry regretfully. "I would have given you longer notice only it was made up on the spur of the moment. Don't you think you could?"
"I don't care for dancing. Besides,—my head aches."
"What a pity," exclaimed the disappointed young man. Then he said eagerly: "Do you suppose your mother would allow Miss Margaret to go?"
"I'll ask her," and Ethel left the room.
Peg ran across, stopped the door from closing and called after Ethel:
"I didn't mean to hurt ye—indade I didn't. I wanted to talk to ye, that was all—an' ye made me angry—" Ethel disappeared without even turning her head.
Peg came into the room ruefully, and sat down on the sofa. She was thoroughly unhappy.
Jerry looked at her a moment, walked over to her and asked her: "What's the matter?"
"One of us girls has been brought-up all wrong. I tried to make friends with her just now and only made her angry, as I do every one in this house whenever I open my mouth."