in' me away from ye to go into a
stuck-up old man's house that threated me mother the way he did."

And so the discussion ended.

For the next few days Peg was busy preparing herself for the journey
and buying little things for her scanty equipment. Then the cable came
to the effect that a passage was reserved for her and money was waiting
at a banker's for her expenses. This Peg obstinately refused to touch.
She didn't want anything except what her father gave her.

When the morning of her departure came, poor Peg woke with a heavy
heart. It was their first parting, and she was miserable.

O'Connell, on the contrary, seemed full of life and high spirits. He
laughed at her and joked with her and made a little bundle of some
things that would not go in her bag--and that he had kept for her to
the last minute. They were a rosary that had been his mother's, a
prayer-book Father Cahill gave him the day he was confirmed, and lastly
the little miniature of Angela. It wrung his heart to part with it, but
he wanted Peg to have it near her, especially as she was going amongst
the relations of the dead woman. All through this O'Connell showed not
a trace of emotion before Peg. He kept telling her there was nothing to
be sad about. It was all going to be for her good.

When the time came to go, the strange pair made their way down to the
ship--the tall, erect, splendid-looking man and the little red-haired
girl in her simple black suit and her little black hat, with red
flowers to brighten it.

O'Connell went aboard with her, and an odd couple they looked on the
saloon-deck, with Peg holding on to "Michael"--much to the amusement of
the passengers, the visitors and the stewards.

Poor, staunch, loyal, honest, true little Peg, going alone to--what?
Leaving the one human being she cared for and worshipped--her playmate,
counsellor, friend and father--all in one!

O'Connell never dropped his high spirits all the time they were
together on board the ship. He went aboard with a laugh and when the
bell rang for all visitors to go ashore he said good-bye to Peg with a
laugh--while poor Peg's heart felt like a stone in her breast. She
stood sobbing up against the rail of the saloon deck as the ship swung
clear. She was looking for her father through the mists of tears that
blinded her.

Just as the boat slowly swept past the end of the dock she saw him
right at the last post so that he could watch the boat uninterruptedly
until