"Oh, won't you tell him yourself—yourselves, I mean? It sounds so—so——"
"So what?" exclaimed Norah.
"Sort of cowardly," said Margot.
"You have never seen my father in a passion, pushkeen. He'll be angry at a Desmond marrying a Flannigan, and he'll let his anger out and storm and rave, and poor Sam won't be able to bear it. It is best that Fergus should get the brunt of it."
"Are you quite—quite sure that is what you mean to do?" asked Margot after a long pause.
"Well, perhaps——"
"As you are both so finicky I'd best do it for you. I'll talk to Uncle Fergus and get him to tell granddad. I'm going to have a private talk with Uncle Fergus to-night. Shall I tell him about you and the holy, saintly Mr. Samuel to-night, Aunt Norah?"
"Well, to be sure, child, you have a heart and a half."
"No, I've one heart, but it's big. It can hold you two and your little ring and your 'mendous big secret."