“If you will allow me to accompany you,” said Joseph, scarcely knowing whether she rejected or accepted his escort.
“To be sure she will, and you have both more sense than to fall out now; and mind, Joseph, you 're to be here at four, for I asked Mrs. Cronan to dinner.”
“Oh, that reminds me of something,” said Joe, hurriedly; and he leaned over his mother's chair, and whispered to her, “Mr. Martin has invited me to dine with him to-day; here is his note, which came to me in rather a strange fashion.”
“To dine at the Nest! May I never! But I scarcely can believe my eyes,” said Mrs. Nelligan, in ecstasy. “And the honor, and the pleasure, too; well, well, you 're the lucky boy.”
“What shall I do, mother; is n't there something between my father and him?”
“What will you do but go; what else would you do, I 'd like to know? What will they say at the Post when they hear it?”
“But I want you to hear how this occurred.”
“Well, well; I don't care,—go you must, Joe. But there 's poor Catty walking away all alone; just overtake her, and say that a sudden invitation from the Martins—mention it as if you were up there every day—”
But young Nelligan did not wait for the conclusion of this artful counsel, but hurrying after Catty Henderson, overtook her as she had gained the beach.
“I have no need of an escort, Mr. Joseph,” said she, good-humoredly. “I know every turn of the way here.”