argret's silence and the meaning of that queer checked garb.

For a quarter of a century Margret lived among her fowl, untroubled by
her kin. Then the talk about the money grew from little beginnings
like a snowball. It fired Mrs. Jack with a curious excitement, for she
was an ignorant woman and ready to believe any extravagant story. She
amazed Jack by putting the blame of their long ignoring of Margret
upon his shoulders entirely, and when he stared at her, dumb-founded,
she seized and shook him till his teeth rattled. 'You great stupid
omadhaun!' she hissed between the shakes, 'that couldn't have the
nature in you to see to your own sister, an' she a lone woman!'

That very day Jack went off stupidly to try to bridge over with
Margret the gulf of nearly thirty years. He got very little help from
his sister. She watched him with what seemed like grim enjoyment
while he wriggled miserably on the edge of his chair and tried to talk
naturally. At length he jerked out his wife's invitation to have a bit
of dinner with them on the coming Sunday, which Margret accepted
without showing any pleasure, and then he bolted.

Margret came to dinner on the Sunday, and was well entertained with a
fat chicken and a bit of bacon, for the Laffans were well-to-do
people. She thoroughly enjoyed her dinner, though she spoke little and
that little monosyllabic; but Margret was taciturn even as a girl, and
her solitary habit for years seemed to have made speech more difficult
for her. Mrs. Jack heaped her plate with great heartiness and made
quite an honoured guest of her. But outside enjoying the dinner
Margret did not seem to respond. Young Jack was brought forward to
display his accomplishments, which he did in the most hang-dog
fashion. The cleverness and good-looks and goodness of the girls were
expatiated upon, but Margret gave no sign of interest. Once Fanny
caught her looking at her with a queer saturnine glance, that made
her feel all at once hot and uncomfortable, though she had felt pretty
secure of her smartness before that. Margret's reception of Mrs.
Jack's overtures did not satisfy that enterprising lady. When she had
departed Mrs. Jack put her down as 'a flinty-hearted ould maid.' 'Her
sort,' she declared, 'is ever an' always sour an' bitther to them the
Lord blesses wid a family.' But all the same it became a regular thing
for Margret to eat her Sunday dinner with the Laffans, and Mrs. Jack
discovered after a time that th