But Margot took no notice of the blush, nor did she observe that the Rev. Samuel Flannigan had moved a trifle out of hearing. Margot gravely cracked her fingers. After a time she looked solemnly at young-old Aunt Norah and said:
"You'll have ten. They'll come out of the hearts of cabbages, and I'll order them for you one at a time, if you like; I'll go straight home now and begin to make the baby clothes."
"Margot, you are the most awful pushkeen in the wide world," said Aunt Norah. "You have made himself feel so ashamed that he can't look me in the face."
"All because of the dear little babies," said Margot. "I am more than surprised."
"Listen," exclaimed Norah, "no young girl ever talks on those subjects before marriage."
"Don't she? But why? I thought it was so interesting."
"It isn't, pushkeen; it isn't done."
"Have you told granddad yet that you are going to marry Mr. Flannigan?" inquired Margot.
"No; we don't want him to know yet. It would spoil the fun; and dear Samuel is so sensitive."