"I am very small for my age," she began in an anxious voice. "I'm not very young really. I'm more than six. I'm quite nine weeks more."
"Quite very old," he agreed heartily. "And now you will eat and drink with me, hein?" He was opening a cupboard. "It is a very goot cake. I am what you call an old sweet-teeth. And the drink will not harm you; it is sweet and hot—it is made by my old mother." He poured out two glasses and handed her one.
"We will drink and be friends, eh?"
She hesitated.
"'Tis wondhring I am just what a lodger is," she explained. "I've never met one before, you see. Nell turned up her nose at you and said she'd never be dhramin' Aunt Kezia was so bad as to have a lodger."
"Your aunt is a very kind laty; she allows me to live here, while I am far from Shermany," he said gravely.
The Atom looked interested; after a pause of wonder she dismissed the question of her aunt's being a kind lady, and observed:—
"Is that all? We'll drink then and be friends. I hope you won't mind if I don't love you very much, because you're not Irish, you see."
He declared he would be satisfied with what degree of affection she thought fit to bestow on him. She lifted her glass.
"'Tis Sheila Patricia Kathleen O'Brien I'm called, but you must be callin' me Miss O'Brien."