"No, Atom, I won't. I hate long frocks for short atoms."
Presently, uneasily, "Do you hate me for being so hard, Sheila Pat?"
"The O'Briens," excessively grown-upedly, "don't hate each other so easily, Nell."
When the Atom came back after tea she was very quiet. Nell wondered if she were tired; she answered all questions as to her afternoon's enjoyment in her soft little voice that gave her curt sentences such a quaintness, but she originated no remark of her own. An hour after she had gone to bed Nell went into her room and peeped at her. She lay wide-eyed, thoughtful. A little after that she appeared suddenly in her night-gown at the door of the Stronghold.
"Hulloa, Atom!" Denis seized her and swung her up; her arms went round his neck.
"Denis," the strenuous little voice sounded as if it were near breaking, "I must go next door, please."
"Now?"
"Yes."
"But you're in your nightie, old girl! What do you want to go for?"
"It's a private reason." Her arms clung tighter; she pressed her cheek against his. Nell met the great eyes looking over his shoulder, and went up to her gently.