"Ye'll never be again," flashed back Peg sharply.
"That is exactly what I was saying to Alaric. I shall never be harsh with you again. Never!"
If Mrs. Chichester thought the extraordinary unbending would produce an equally, Christian-like spirit in Peg, she was unhappily mistaken. Peg did not vary her tone or hear attitude. Both were absolutely uncompromising.
"Ye'll have to go to New York if ye ever want to be harsh with me again. That is where ye'll have to go. To New York."
"You are surely not going to leave us just on account of a few words of correction?" reasoned Mrs. Chichester.
"I am," replied Peg, obstinately. "An' ye've done all the correctin' ye'll ever do with me."
"Have you thought of all you are giving up?"
"I thought all through the night of what I am going back to. And I am going back to it as soon as Mr. Hawkes comes. And now, if ye don't mind, I'd rather be left alone. I have a whole lot to think about, an' they're not very happy thoughts, ayther—an' I'd rather be by meself—if ye plaze."
There was a final air of dismissal about Peg that astonished and grieved the old lady. How their places had changed in a few hours! Yesterday it was Mrs. Chichester who commanded and Peg who obeyed—SOMETIMES.
Now, she was being sent out of a room in her own house, and by her poor little niece.