Mrs. Chichester came toward Ethel, thoroughly alarmed and upset.
But Peg would not let her touch the inanimate girl.
"Go away from her!" cried Peg hysterically.
"What good do ye think ye can do her? What do you know about her? You don't know anything about yer children—ye don't know how to raise them. Ye don't know a thought in yer child's mind. Why don't ye sit down beside her sometimes and find out what she, thinks and who she sees? Take her hand in yer own and get her to open her soul to ye! Be a mother to her! A lot you know about motherhood! I want to tell ye me father knows more about motherhood than any man in the wurrld."
Poor Mrs. Chichester fell back, crushed and humiliated from Peg's onslaught.
In a few moments the two men returned with water and salts. After a while Ethel opened her eyes and looked up at Peg. Peg, fearful lest she should begin to accuse herself again, helped her up the stairs to her own room and there she sat beside the unstrung, hysterical girl until she slept, her hand locked in both of Peg's.
Promising to call in the morning, Jerry left.
The mother and son returned to their rooms.
The house was still again.
But how much had happened that night that went to shaping the characters and lives of these two young girls, who were first looking out at life with the eyes and minds of swiftly advancing womanhood! One thing Peg had resolved: she would not spend another night in the Chichester home.