"Sure, thin, I was never dhramin' you were a—a spoilsport! Go away! It's easy to see now that you've never been in Ireland!"
"I've forbidden those steps to her," declared Denis, striving to look severe. "Let's take them out, old man."
"I—I wish you wouldn't call me 'Miss Molly'!" blurted out Molly, suddenly.
He looked at her surprised.
"It's awfully good of you," he said in his quiet voice, and Molly's hot cheeks cooled. "I shall be awfully pleased to call you 'Molly,' Molly."
"You're not to call me Sheila Pat," declared the Atom, her pig-tail at an acute angle.
"I should not think of taking such a liberty, Miss Sheila Patricia Kathleen O'Brien."
"I've made some toffee," said Nell. "Are you fond of it? It's too soft to eat yet," digging a knife into it.
"Oh, I say, is it at the stage where it pulls into long strips when you try to bite it, and catches on your nose and mouth and everywhere?"
She nodded.