"That's true," said Nell. "I mean," hastily, "girls do have the sense to like nice little chubby babies, so a nursery it shall be!"
Kate Kearney came pattering softly up to Ted, and stood gazing into his face. He picked her up.
"What d'you want, old girl?"
She lashed her tail; she wriggled her head into his shoulder; she eyed him with innocent adoration.
"She's been up to something," observed Denis.
"Oh!" ejaculated Nell. "Oh, K.K.!" She held up a half-demolished grey pig.
"'Oh! should you e'er meet this Kate Kearney,
Who lives on the banks of Killarney,
Beware of her smile, for many a wile
Lies hid in the smile of Kate Kearney.
Though she looks so bewitchingly simple,
Yet there's mischief in every dimple;
And who dares inhale her sigh's spicy gale,
Must die by the breath of Kate Kearney,'"
sang Denis. "The poor piggy inhaled her sigh this time."
When Molly and Sheila Pat had gone to bed, the others sat around the fire and talked. Jim came down from the curtain rod, sat on the hearth-rug, and gazed into the fire. Occasionally he glanced up with his bright little eyes from one to another. He obviously took part in the conversation. Nell began to feel that she had known Ted for years and years. She discovered that he had no near relations except his father and the aunt and cousins she had seen. Filling the gaps he left, she made out that his father was absorbed in the game of speculation; that he was always going to and fro between London and New York on business; that Ted often did not even know his address.
When Ted departed, Denis went with him to the corner. Coming back alone, he lifted his beautiful voice in "The Wearing o' the Green," and, oblivious of the heads thrust from windows, strolled slowly towards his gate.