Now the sight of the excellent food was certainly reviving to Matilda Raynes and when Malachi offered to lead her to the festive board, doing so with a succession of hops and skips and jumps, she suddenly found herself bursting into fits of laughter.
"Are you one of the old-youngs?" she managed to whisper to him.
"I'm nothing, I'm only Malachi. I breed horses, that's what I do. Would you like me to mount ye on one to-morrow."
"I would," said Tilly, her eyes sparkling.
"Then I will if ye stop that hullabaloo."
"You'll hold me tight, for I've never rode in my life," said Tilly.
"Ah, blessings on the girleen, but ye can learn for shure!"
"Yes, I can learn."
"I expect you can. Norah, pour out a glass of milk for her. Biddy, acushla, I'm ready for some of that home-brewed beer. Now then, babies all, to supper!"
The supper was so good and the old-young people were so merry that Tilda forgot her fears. She longed inexpressibly for Margot and for the refined life of the French school at Arles; but nevertheless there were never any potatoes like these, and Malachi had such a twinkle in his eye, and whenever she glanced at Bruce he winked back at her in the most comforting way.