Nevertheless the good man was miserable. His sermons seemed to have lost their power. He walked with a decided stoop and a heavy expression on his face, and Mrs. Mansfield wondered if her husband, that most excellent John, was suddenly developing old age.
Meanwhile little Margot was in the highest of high spirits. She was more attentive than usual to her aunt.
"It is quite easy to be good when you are happy," thought little Margot, and she sang with greater spirit than ever "When Malachi Wore His Collar of Gold." But when she ventured to allude to the subject to Jacko, he desired her to hush. He spoke with a certain severity which she had never before noticed on his face. Nevertheless when he saw a look of distress creep into her brilliant, rosy cheeks, he took her on his knee, assured her that all was quite—quite right, that his promise was his promise—only he would rather not speak of it.
The Friday so full of events drew on apace. The house was to receive a thorough spring cleaning. Mrs. Mansfield would be absent exactly a fortnight. During that time Margot was to be a very good child and look after her dear, kind uncle, without whose aid she would be nothing but a beggar maid, and Margot promised to do her very best for Uncle Jack, her black eyes twinkling as she spoke.
Mrs. Mansfield left home early in the morning and, the moment she had gone, Margot danced into her uncle's study.
"Jacko, Jacko," she cried, "she's gone—she's gone! Good riddance, say I. Now we are going to begin our fun."
"You must not talk of your aunt like that," said Uncle John. "Are your things packed, acushla machree?"
"To be sure," said Margot. "Dear, kind Cook Hannah helped me. She brought an old leather trunk down to my room and it is chock full—chock full, Jacko. I'm taking presents to my three aunts, Norah, Bridget and Eileen, and to my uncles, Fergus and Bruce and Malachi. I'd like well, Jacko, that you gave me money to buy a new pipe for The Desmond and something for madam as well. I don't know what great Irish ladies like. Do you think a big box of candy would suit her when she can't sleep o' nights?"
"I would not buy any more presents if I were you, my pet," said Uncle Jack. "Now, see here, I have managed everything. It is very wicked of me, but I'm doing it."