Things were becoming strained--and over a dog.
Alaric would use his SUBTLER humour--keen as bright steel--and turn
the edge of the discussion.
"What can I give you instead of 'Michael'?"
He paused, laughed cheerfully and bent tenderly aver her and
whispered:
"MYSELF, dear cousin! MYSELF!" and he leaned back and watched the
effect. A quick joke at the right moment had so often saved the day.
It would again, he was sure. After a moment he whispered softly:
"What do you say--dear cousin?"
Peg looked up at him, innocently, and answered:
"Sure, I think I'd rather have 'Michael'--if ye don't mind."
He started forward: "Oh, come, I say! You don't MEAN that?"
"I do," she answered decidedly.
"But think--just for one moment--of the ADVANTAGES?"
"For you, or for me?" asked Peg.
"For YOU--of course," replied the disappointed Alaric.
"I'm thryin' to--but I can only think of 'Michael. Sure, I get more
affection out of his bark of greetin' than I've ever got from a
human bein' in England. But then he's IRISH. No, thank ye, all the
same. If it makes no difference to ye, I'd rather have 'Michael.'"
"You don't mean to say that you REFUSE me?" he asked blankly.
"If ye don't mind," replied Peg meekly.
"You actually decline my HAND and--er--HEART?"
"That's what I do.
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