"Ye need have no fear in ye, my push-keen colleen. Do ye see that door? It opens into Madam's room and mine. If you call out even a whisper I'll be with ye. Now say your hymn like a good child and God bless ye."
"My hymn, what hymn?" said Margot in some astonishment.
"Why, didn't they never teach it to ye? What a powerful, wicked shame, but you are young and you'll soon learn. Your mother used to say it to me every night when she was a young 'un. Come, fold your little hands and follow me with the words."
Margot did so. The hymn was a very baby one and very well known, but Aunt Priscilla had never thought it worth her while to teach it to the baby Margot. The Desmond had different views.
"Now begin, acushla machree."
Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
Look upon a little child,
Pity my simplicity,
Suffer me to come to thee.
Fain would I to thee be brought,
Dearest Lord, forbid it not;
In the Kingdom of thy grace
Grant a little child a place.