While the old-youngs and Mr. Flannigan and Tilly were playing the celebrated game of "Puss in the Corner," Malachi, his face all alight with joy, entered his father's sanctum.
Little Margot had been helping Fergus with the making of the beautiful new fruit garden, but her toils were over for the present, and she was sitting on grand-dad's knee; wrapped up, in short, in grand-dad, as though she was part of him. Her beautiful soft, jet-black hair made a vivid contrast to his white beard. She lay back comfortably in his arms, almost too happy to speak. She felt as though she was indeed part of him, he belonged to her. She was his very own.
Madam, as usual, was crocheting in the distant window. No one took much outward notice of the sweet little Madam, but then she was the very person whom her sons and daughters, and her old husband adored. And little Margot loved her, also, although not quite so much as she loved The Desmond.
"To be sure, it must be just as you wish, pushkeen," said the old man, and just at that moment Malachi, with his smiling, handsome face, entered the room.
"What are you up to now, Malachi?" said the old man.
"Starlight is quite broken in for gentle exercise," he said. "I wouldn't trust him yet for great gaps or ditches, but he'd be safe, quite safe, for the pushkeen to ride on the highroad, and I'll ride beside her on Brian the Brave. I've come to tell you this, pushkeen. The horse is ready, Starlight is ready. I took a good bit out of her this morning, and your habit has come from Cork, as well as the saddle. You'll look elegant—that's the only word for it—mounted on Starlight with me alongside of you. We might go for a ride after dinner. I've taken some of the nonsense out of Starlight this morning. He'll be as easy as a bit of silk to manage after we have had our early dinner."
"To be sure, that's fine news," said The Desmond, "but you must take precious care of my little treasure, Malachi."
"To be sure and that I will. You can trust me," said Malachi. "We'll go soft and easy along the highroad and pushkeen can call and see Annie Maloney and her childer."
"Oh, I would like it, grand-dad," said Margot, raising her dear, bright little face.
"To be sure you would," said The Desmond. "I suppose the King of all the Desmonds is a bit stale for me to mount, Malachi."