Mrs. Herrick colors slightly.
"Will you let me get you some tea, Fay?" says Mr. Kelly, addressing the child almost anxiously.
"No, thank you," says the fairy, sweetly but decidedly. "My mammy will give me half hers. I do not like any other tea."
"I am not in favor to-day," says Kelly, drawing back and shrugging his shoulders slightly, but looking distinctly disappointed. It may be the child sees this, because she comes impulsively forward, and, standing on tiptoe before him, holds her arms upwards towards his neck.
"I want to kiss you now," she says, solemnly, when he has taken her into his embrace. "But no one else. I only want to kiss you sometimes—and always mamma."
"I am content to be second where mamma is first. I am glad you place me with her in your mind. I should like to be always with mamma," says Kelly. He laughs a little, and kisses the child again, and places her gently upon the ground, and then he glances at Hermia. But her face is impassive as usual. No faintest tinge deepens the ordinary pallor of her cheeks. She has the sugar tongs poised in the air, and is apparently sunk in abstruse meditation.
"Now, I wonder who takes sugar and who doesn't," she says, wrinkling up her pretty brows in profound thought. "I have been here a month, yet cannot yet be sure. Mr. Kelly, you must call some one else to our assistance to take round the sugar, as you can't do everything."
"I can do nothing," says Kelly, in a low tone, after which he turns away and calls Brian Desmond to come to him.