of angry
astonishment, she with a fell knowledge of its meaning. It is, indeed,
no surprise to her when Tommy and Mabel appear suddenly from behind the
rock just close to them, that hides the path in part, and precipitates
themselves into her arms.

"We saw you, we saw you!" gasps Tommy, breathless from his run up the
hill: "we saw you far away down there on the road, and we told Bridgie"
(the maid) "that we'd run up, and she said 'cut along,' so here we are."

"You are, indeed," says Dysart, with feeling.

"We knew you'd be glad to see us," goes on Tommy to Joyce in the
beautiful roar he always adopts when excited; "you haven't been home for
years, and Bridgie says that's because you are going to be married
to----"

"Get up, Tommy, you are too heavy, and, besides, I want to kiss Mabel,"
says Tommy's aunt with prodigious haste and a hot cheek.

"But mammy says you're a silly Billy," says Mabel in her shrill treble,
"an' that----"

"Mammy is a shockingly rude person," says Mr. Dysart, hurrying to break
into the dangerous confidence, no matter at what cost, even at the
expense of the adored mammy. His remark is taken very badly.

"She's not," says Tommy, glowering at him. "Father says she's an angel,
and he knows. I heard him say it, and angels are never rude!"

"'Twas after he made her cry about something," says Mabel, lifting her
little flower-like face to Dysart's in a miniature imitation of her
brother's indignation. "She was boo-booing like anything, and then
father got sorry--oh!--dreadful sorry--and he said she was an angel, and
she said----"

"Oh, Mabel!" says Joyce, weakly, "you know you oughtn't to say such----"

"Well, 'twas your fault, 'twas all about you," says Tommy, defiantly.
"Why don't you come home? Father says you ought to come, and mammy says
she doesn't know which of 'em it'll be; and father says it won't be any
of them, and--what's it all about?" turning a frankly inquisitive little
face up to hers. "They wouldn't tell us, and we want to know which of
'em it will be."

"Yes, an' is it jints?" demands Mabel, who probably means giants, and
not cold meats.

"I don't know what she means," says Miss Kavanagh, coldly.

"I say, you two," says Mr. Dysart, brilliantly, "wouldn't you like to
run a race? Bridget must be tired of waiting for you down there at the
end of the hill, and----"

"She isn't waiting, she's talking to Mickey Daly," says Tommy.

"Oh, I see. Well, look here. I bet you, T