Beneath that earth lay not only his wife's remains, but O'Connell's
early hopes and ambitions were buried with her.

Neither spoke either going to or returning from the cemetery.
O'Connell's heart was too full. Peg knew what was passing through
his mind and sat with her hands folded in her lap--silent. But her
little brain was busy thinking back.

Peg had much to think of during the early days following her arrival
in New York. At first the city awed her with its huge buildings and
ceaseless whirl of activity and noise. She longed to be back in her
own little green, beautiful country.

O'Connell was away during those first days until late apt night.

He found a school for Peg. She did not want to go to it, hut just to
please her father she agreed. She lasted in it just one week. They
laughed at her brogue and teased and tormented her for her absolute
lack of knowledge. Peg put up with that just as long as she could.
Then one day she opened out on them and astonished them. They could
not have been more amazed had a bomb exploded in their midst. The
little, timid-looking, open-eyed, Titian-haired girl was a veritable
virago. She attacked and belittled, and mimicked and berated them.
They had talked of her BROGUE! They should listen to their own nasal
utterances, that sounded as if they were speaking with their noses
and not with their tongues! Even the teacher did not go unscathed.
She came in for an onslaught, too. That closed Peg's career as a New
York student.

Her father arranged his work so that he could be with her at certain