It was a significant moment to introduce it, since the eyes of the world were turned on the outcome of the new measure for Home Rule for Ireland, that Mr. Asquith's government were introducing, and that appeared to have every chance of becoming law.
The dream of so many Irishmen seemed to be within the bounds of possibility of becoming a forceful reality.
Accordingly O'Connell strained every nerve to complete it. He reviewed the past; he dwelt on the present: he attempted to forecast the future. And with every new page that he completed he felt it was one more step nearer home—the home he was hoping for and building on for Peg—in Ireland.
There the colour would come back to her cheeks, the light to her eyes and the flash of merriment to her tongue. She rarely smiled now, and the pallor was always in her cheeks, and wan circles pencilled around her eyes spoke of hard working days and restless nights.
She no longer spoke of England.
He, wise in his generation, never referred to it. All her interest seemed to be centred in his book.
It was a strange metamorphosis for Peg—this writing at dictation: correcting her orthography; becoming familiar with historical facts and hunting through bookshelves for the actual occurrences during a certain period.
And she found a certain happiness in doing it.
Was it not for her father?
And was she not improving herself?