“Old Lady Seagrave and her gran’childer,” replied Patsy, as he trotted beside his uncle.
“And how many gran’childer has the old lady?” asked Con.
“Three,” replied Patsy. “There’s the little lord; he wears putty leggin’s and a shootin’ coat an’ all, and he only nine; and there’s Miss Doris, wid the long gold hair, and she’s eight; then there’s Selina.”
“What’s that?” asked Con.
“Selina.”
“And what the divil’s Selina?”
“The baby; leastways, they call her the baby. Selina’s her name, and she’s five; she gets in the coal-scuttle when she has the chanst, she’s that small and over-bould. Biddy Mahony is their nurse, and she told me all about them. They eats off china, wid silver forks.”
“Silver forks, did you say?” asked Con.
“Yes, and spoons.”
“Patsy.”