All the days and nights of that journey of Peg's to England, O'Connell had the ever-present premonition of danger. When a cable came, signed Montgomery Hawkes, acquainting O'Connell with the news of Peg's safe arrival, he drew a long breath of relief.
Then the days passed slowly until Peg's first letter came. It contained the news of Kingsnorth's death—Peg's entrance into the Chichester family, her discontent—her longing to be back once more in New York. This was followed by more letters all more or less in the same key. Finally he wrote urging her to give it all up and come back to him. He would not have his little daughter tortured for all the advantages those people could give her. Then her letters took on a different aspect. They contained a curious half-note of happiness in them. No more mention of returning. On the contrary, Peg appeared to be making the best of the conditions in which she was placed.
These later letters set O'Connell wondering. Had the great Message of Life come to his little Peg?
Although he always felt it WOULD come some day, now that it seemed almost a very real possibility, he dreaded it. There were so few natures would understand her.
Beneath all her resolute and warlike exterior, it would take a keenly observing eye to find the real, gentle, affectionate nature that flourished in the sunshine of affection, and would fret and pine amid unsympathetic surroundings.
That Peg was developing her character and her nature during those few weeks was clear to O'Connell. The whole tone of her letters had changed. But no word of hers gave him any clue to the real state of her feelings, until one day he received a letter almost entirely composed of descriptions of the appearance, mode of speech, method of thought and expression of one "Jerry." The description of the man appealed to him, he apparently having so many things in common with the mysterious person who had so vividly impressed himself on Peg.
Apparently Peg was half trying to improve herself.
There was a distinct note of seriousness about the last letter. It was drawing near the end of the month and she was going to ask her aunt to let her stay on for another month if her father did not mind. She did not want him to be unhappy, and if he was miserable without her, why she would sail back to New York on the very first steamer. He wrote her a long affectionate letter, telling her that whatever made her happy would make HIM, too, and that she must not, on any account, think of returning to New York if she found that she was helping her future by staying with her aunt. All through the letter he kept up apparent high spirits, and ended it with a cheery exhortation to stay away from him just as long as she could; not to think of returning until it was absolutely necessary.
It was with a heavy heart he posted that letter. Back of his brain he had hoped all through that month that Peg would refuse to stay any longer in England.
Her determination to stay was a severe blow to him.