Ye've lived so long among
the Saxons."
"English! is it?" And her tone rang with disgust and her look was
one of disdain. "English ye thought I'd be! Sure, ye ought to know
me betther than that!"
"I do, Peg. I was just tasin' ye."
"An' what have ye been doin' all these long days without me?"
He raised the littered sheets of his manuscript and showed them to
her.
"This."
She looked over her shoulder and read:
"From 'BUCK-SHOT' to 'AGRICULTURAL ORGANISATION.' "THE HISTORY OF A
GENERATION OF ENGLISH MISRULE, by Frank Owen O'Connell.""
She looked up proudly at her father.
"It looks wondherful, father."
"I'll rade it to you in the long evenin's now we're together again."
"Do, father."
"And we won't separate any more, Peg, will we?"
"We wouldn't have this time but for you, father."
"Is it sorry ye are that ye went?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry o' coorse, and GLAD, too, in some ways."
"What made yez come back so sudden-like?"
"I only promised to stay a month."
"Didn't they want ye any longer?"
"In one way they did, an' in another they didn't. It's a long
history--that's what it is. Let us sit down here as we used in the
early days and I'll tell ye the whole o' the happenin's since I left
ye.
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