Mr. Raleigh and Marguerite had a merry tea, and Mrs. Purcell came and poured it out for them.
"Quite like the days when we went gypsying," said she, when near its conclusion.
"We have just come from the Bawn, Miss Marguerite and I," he replied.
"You have? I never go near it. Did it break your heart?"
Mr. Raleigh laughed.
"Is Mr. Raleigh's heart such a delicate organ?" asked Marguerite.
"Once, you might have been answered negatively; now, it must be like the
French banner, _percé, troué, criblé,"—
"Pray, add the remainder of your quotation," said he,—"sans peur et sans reproche."
"So that a trifle would reduce it to flinders," said Mrs. Purcell, without minding his interruption.
"Would you give it such a character, Miss Rite?" questioned Mr. Raleigh lightly.