"Oh, Donnie!" exclaimed the children in delight, "do you mean you'll give us the things to eat?"
"Just settle amongst yourselves what yez want, and let me know by dinner-time. I'll hurry through with my work this morning, and all ye need trouble yourselves is to bring the cart round to-morrow to the kitchen door."
"You darling old Honey-donnie! Won't it be a sell for Mr. Plunkett?" exclaimed Bobbo, while Murtagh's face lit up joyously, and the little girls began to arrange what they would want.
"Apple-pie and custards I vote for!" exclaimed Murtagh, breaking in upon their discussion; "only let's look sharp about arranging, because Nessa has sent to ask Mr. Plunkett to come to the drawing-room."
"Ye won't let on a word to Mr. Plunkett?" said Donnie, who in her secret heart was as much afraid of him as anybody.
"You needn't be afraid. We're not likely to have much conversation with him," returned Murtagh, with a scornful intonation. "But did Nessa really think about that yesterday?"
"She did so," replied Donnie. "She came in, and I was whipping the cream here by the table, and 'Donnie,' says she, with her sweet way, 'the poor children have got into a great scrape;' and then she told me all about it, and we put our heads together."
"How awfully jolly of her!" exclaimed Murtagh; "come along off to the drawing-room, and let's thank her before old Plunkett arrives."
They were in full flow of enthusiastic thanks and merry plan-making when Mr. Plunkett's step was heard.
"Whisht!" cried Murtagh. "Here comes the man-eater! where's his pill?" Bobbo exploded with laughter, and Murtagh desperately hunting in all his pockets had but just time to find the half-sovereign before Mr. Plunkett entered the room. Nessa feared for a moment that the children were going to turn the whole affair into a joke, but at sight of Mr. Plunkett every sign of laughter vanished from their faces.