"Pray, sir," with an angry titter, "how will even your fertile wits prove that?"
"Sure, didn't I see the little pink foot of you step out, and didn't I know it before ever it reached the ground?"
"Lord forgive you!" said Mistress Kitty gravely. But a dimple peeped.
He had now possessed himself of her hand, which he was caressing with the touch of the tentative lover, tenderer than a woman's, full of mute cajoling inquiry.
"I hope the Lord may forgive me for setting up and worshipping an idol. I believe there's something against that in the commandments, darling, but sure, maybe, old Moses wouldn't have been so hard on those Israelites if they'd had the gumption to raise a pretty woman in the midst of them, instead of an old gilt Calf."
At this word, Mistress Kitty gave a perceptible start.
"Oh, dear," said she, "never, never speak to me of that dreadful animal again! Oh, Denis," she said, turning upon him for the first time her full eyes, as melting and as pathetic just then as it was in their composition to look, "I am in sad, sad trouble, and I don't know what to do!"
Here she produced a delicate handkerchief, and applied it to her eyelashes, which she almost believed herself had become quite moist.
"Me jewel!" cried Mr. O'Hara, preparing to administer the first form of consolation that occurred to him.
"Be quiet," said Mistress Kitty testily. "Get up, sir! I have to consult you. There, there, sit down. Oh, I am in earnest, and this is truly serious."