"Madam, darlin,' bring Norah down to granddad this minute."
"I'll fetch her," said Fergus.
He went up to his sister's room, and in a few minutes she appeared, looking very cowed and shaken.
"It's that blessed little Margot's doings," said Fergus. "No one else would have brought him round. Loving my father as much as she does, she was determined to give him up unless he allowed you to be happy."
"I don't understand," said Norah.
"Well, you needn't, colleen. Come with me now and don't keep the old man waiting."
Norah went. Margot was in her usual place on her grandfather's knee. She would not allow him to rise. He just put out his great hand in the direction of Norah.
"Ye're looking a bit white, colleen," he said; "and weak, too, with the weakness of the aged. I give in; you can take him. Why, there he is," for Malachi had rushed round to the house of Flannigan and brought him straight back—a very red-eyed, feeble man, to meet his red-eyed, feeble bride.
"There, I've settled it," said The Desmond. "You can both go out and spoon. I'm busy with my granddaughter. I had never have given in but for her. She's as cute as she's sweet. Lor' bless her, she's the cutest thing on earth," and then he hugged Margot close to his heart.
The three Sundays were obliged to be gone through in order that the banns might be properly read, and Margot brought her wonderful taste to bear on the subject of the wardrobe of the bride. Knowing quite well that her grandfather would give in, she had wired to belle grand'mère from England, telling her what things she would require for the wedding.