"Hullo," he said, "so here we are again."
"Yes, yes, and it is lovely to see you, grand-dad, and please come and sit close to me and send the old young girls and the old young boys away. Only Madam may stay if she likes, for she's a perfect darling. Tell her—tell her to feed me. I like to be petted and I love really old people, but I don't like old young people to call me 'pixie' and 'pushkeen.'"
With a wave of his hand, which was at once imperative and intensely severe, The Desmond cleared the room of all his sons and daughters. Madam sat down on the side of the bed and fed Margot, who gave herself up to intense present enjoyment.
"I'm so happy, granny," she said, looking at the old lady, "and I'm so happy, grand-dad," she continued, taking the old chieftain's withered hand and pressing her soft lips to it. "Oh, I am so very glad that you are both really old. I don't like old young, I don't, really, truly."
"Now you, child, you," said Madam, "don't you run down your aunts and your uncles. They are all young and kittenish."
"They are not Mary, and you know it perfectly well," said The Desmond. "The child is right; she is full of sense. She's exactly like my Kathleen, God bless her."
The fuss which was made over the wardrobe of little Margot could scarcely be excelled. There was no such thing as a modern bathroom at Desmondstown, but a great tub, which was used for washing clothes, was hoisted into the room by two stalwart women. Then it was made the exact right heat, and Madam and her three daughters—for nothing would keep these old young ladies a minute longer out of the room—superintended the washing and dressing of little Margot.
Eileen was the quietest of the three sisters. She was also the prettiest and the youngest. She had been out at what was called a barn-dance on the previous evening and this was her first proper view of the little arrival. Eileen, when she was really young, must have been very pretty. She had the deep, dark blue eyes of her countrywomen, and the soft dark hair which curled naturally all over her head. Unlike her sisters, she was not obliged to have recourse to curl papers and little Margot looked at her with her soft, dark brown eyes full of admiration.
Her own dress was very plain, though neat, and Eileen chose out of the child's belongings a simple white dress which she was to wear with a faded green sash that belonged to Eileen herself.