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Updated: May 28, 2025
Somehow it wouldn't work. The words refused to come. Love was too big and sweet and sacred. It couldn't be hinted at to a third person. And so he merely stammered: "Will you er please tell Miss Betty I'm here?" "Yiss-sor!" Peggy giggled. He was glad to be rid of her. He drew his handkerchief, mopped the perspiration from his brow and sat down by the open window to wait. His heart was pounding.
The pretty Irish maid nodded and smiled with such a sympathetic look as she ushered Ned into the cosy back parlor, he wondered if it meant anything. Could she have guessed Betty's secret? She might give him a hint that would lift the fear from his heart. He smiled back into her laughing eyes and began awkwardly: "Oh, I say, Peggy " She dropped a pretty courtesy: "Yiss-sor?"
Ned gasped. "Yiss-sor; she saw you come up to the door just now and told me to tell you." Again the girl giggled and again he flushed with rage. He found her in the garden, busy with her flowers. The border of tall jonquils were in full bloom, a gorgeous yellow flame leaping from both sides of the narrow walkway which circled the high brick wall covered with a mass of honeysuckle.
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