evening, and going to bed early with a headache. Patsy was
terrified. He sat on the mat outside the door till past ten, and
refused to go to bed.

"She's just the very ould one would catch it," he said when Jane tried
to persuade him to go to bed, "for she works that hard herself."

"Well, I'll go in an' ast her if it's catchin'," Jane said at last.

Lull was awake when they went in. "What's the matter?" she said,
sitting up in bed.

"There's nothin' the matter," said Jane; "only Patsy wants to know if
what the woman died of was catchin'."

"What did she die of?" said Lull.

"She died a' labour," said Patsy in a trembling voice. "Is it
catchin', Lull?"

Lull laughed so much that she could not answer.

"Patsy was afraid ye'd catched it," said Jane, laughing too, though she
did not know why.

"God be thankit I have not," said Lull, and as they went joyfully off
to bed they could hear her still laughing.

CHAPTER XII

A SAFEGUARD FOR HAPPINESS

May was at its height; all the apple-trees were in blossom, and the
crimson thorn-trees on the lawn. Through the open nursery windows a
soft wind brought the smell of hawthorn and lush green grass. Bright
patches of sunlight spotted the bare floor and Jane's red and white
quilt. It was early, and the children were still in bed. They were
wide awake--the sun had waked them an hour ago--and already they had
planned how they would spend the day. It was Saturday--a whole
holiday. Nobody had to do lessons to-day; the long, rich sunny hours
lay before them full of happiness. They had agreed that the rocks was
the place for to-day's picnic; no place would be half so beautiful.
This was the weather for the sea. As they lay quiet in bed each one
was thinking of the joys in store. First, there would be the walk
across the soft, spongy grass--past the whins for the sake of the hot,
sunny smell of the blossom. They would be tempted to stop and have the
picnic there; but they would go on, towards the sea, and the sheep
would move off as they came near, and rakish black crows would rise
slowly, and sail away. Then the sea would come in sight: so blue this
weather, how deep and full it looked, with what a soft splash it washed
against the black rocks, and how it stung your naked body as you slid
in for one dip and out again. Fly loved to look forward, as she called
it. Pleasures were worth twice as much to her if she were able to
think of them beforehand. Th