CHAPTER VII. THE LITTLE COMTESSE.
Margot's last day had dawned at Desmondstown. On the following morning she must leave grand-dad and Madam and young old Aunt Eileen and young old Aunt Norah and young old Aunt Bridget. She must also say good-bye to the boys, to Bruce and Malachi, and she was fully determined somehow or other to manage to give a last good-bye to Phinias Maloney and his wife Annie, and the baby who was so truly young.
Little Margot felt very sad at the thought of going away, and she nestled more snugly than ever into her grandfather's arms and looked up into his stern old face and kissed him on his brown cheek.
She nestled more snugly than ever into her grandfather's
arms.—[Page 100.]
"Grand-dad," she said, "how much do you love me now?"
"Ah, worra, then, pushkeen, I'm thinking I love you better than all the rest of the wide world."
"Oh, grand-dad," said Margot, with a sort of gasp, "then you love me better than all the old-youngs. It is wonderfully noble of you, grand-dad. You are a holy man—you are as holy, I'm thinking, as my uncle, John Mansfield."