He had only replied that he was not yet prepared to
acknowledge himself beaten; but the request and his mother's
disappointment had worried him. While he wrote came a knock at the door,
and, in response to his "come in," a plain-looking laborer entered and
stood awkwardly before him.
"What can I do for you?" asked Peter, seeing that he must assist the man
to state his business.
"If you please, sir," said the man, humbly, "it's Missy. And I hope
you'll pardon me for troubling you."
"Certainly," said Peter. "What about Missy?"
"She's--the doctor says she's dying," said the man, adding, with a
slight suggestion of importance, blended with the evident grief he felt:
"Sally, and Bridget Milligan are dead already."
"And what can I do?" said Peter, sympathetically, if very much at sea.
"Missy wants to see you before she goes. It's only a child's wish, sir,
and you needn't trouble about it. But I had to promise her I'd come and
ask you. I hope it's no offence?"
"No." Peter rose, and, passing to the next room, took his hat, and the
two went into the street together.
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