“Now I must turn you out, for I’ve an early start to-morrow.”
“You won’t think too badly of my mother and Barky, will you?” he pleaded.
“My dear, I am not going to think of them, one mite! At first I felt mad: now I’m as cool as a cucumber. You are enough for me. You may tell them it’s no matter, and they have got no need to worry. Now, good-bye, my dear Ulick, and bless you. Keep a corner in your heart for your old American auntie”; and she kissed him affectionately on both cheeks.
Two or three minutes later the patient dairy pony was on his way home. It was considerably after ten o’clock when Ulick entered the dining-room and found his mother and Barky still sitting there. (For one thing it economised candle-light, and for another, Barky could smoke to his heart’s content.)
“Ulick, this is a pretty hour for you to be coming home!” began his mother, in a high, excited key, “and you never told me you were dining out. I suppose these are military manners? Where have you been, pray?”
“At ‘The Arms.’ I’ve had my dinner. I did not intend to stay, and I had no way of letting you know. I am sorry you waited.”
“Oh, oh! I expect you were hob-nobbing with some lady, if the truth were known, you sly fox,” cried Barky.
“Well, yes, you’ve made a good shot. I was dining with a lady. Now for it,” said Ulick to himself.
“I know! The old bag-woman! Ha, ha, ha!”
“Yes. And the old bag-woman turns out to be—who do you think? Our aunt Nora herself!”