Suddenly she sprang from her seat, and pulling Maureen towards her gave her several violent kisses on her lips, forehead, and cheeks. At the same time she managed to tangle the table-cloth round Maureen's little feet, so that when the party rose to go Maureen was the last to leave the table. She did not know what Henny had so cleverly contrived to do, but the entire contents of the tea-service were scattered in hopeless confusion on the floor. Cups and saucers were smashed, so was the old-fashioned slop bowl, and so was the cream jug and cake plates.
But not only did all this mischief occur, but the tea from the large metal teapot was spread all over the damask table-cloth, and a part of the liquid mess lay also on the neat carpet. Even worse was to follow, for Henny pretended that she liked her tea weak, and a small brass urn full of boiling water shared in the general ruin; it had a spirit lamp beneath, and Maureen in trying to save it, and to put the lamp out, burnt and scalded her hand and arm rather badly. The pain made her turn faint and sick for a moment, but she quickly recovered herself.
Henrietta, who saw everything, was in wild spirits.
"For such a very good colleen, you were awkward, Maureen mavourneen," she cried. "Hurrah! I can't help it. A pretty sum you will have to pay; but that seems fair enough, for it will be out of poor Mumsie's money."
Maureen took no notice of Henny's words, but said something in a low tone to Dominic. The boy and girl between them spoke to the waiter, and made up for the damage inflicted.
"Thou and I will walk quietly home together, Henrietta," said Dinah.
"I don't want to; I want to walk with Dom," said the girl.
"Thou wilt walk with me; Dominic and Maureen, precede us, please. I have words to say to this young maid."