"Well, Uncle Fergus, they've settled it up and you can't stop it, 'cause Aunt Norah says they are both of age. I'm certain sure they are, for I climbed up a ladder to see the bald spot on his head. It's Mr. Flannigan and Aunt Norah, and they are going to be married at once, almost imme_jit_, and _you_ have got to tell The Desmond. She says she is not old-young, but that she's young. I know quite well that she's only old-young, but I don't talk of it. She's very happy, though, for she loves him. It seems a pity that God made him ugly, for she's not beautiful, and I don't quite like her taste. She's going to have a teeny house, and he has bought her a little engaged-up ring. It's a very poor sort of ring, really, truly, but oh, she _is_ proud of it. You will be kind to her, won't you, Uncle Fergus! Poor Aunt Norah, she thinks it so more than lovely, going to be married. I was frightened at first, thinking of their wee babies; but they don't seem to want to have babies." Uncle Fergus burst into a sudden laugh, sat down on a tattered old seat, and took Margot into his arms. "You little blessed thing," he said. "Don't whisper to anyone, Margot asthore; keep it tight within ye. Your Aunt Norah is fifty." "What's fifty?" asked the pushkeen. "Why, half a century, of course. She's the eldest of us all, except your Aunt Priscilla. Well, I'll do my best with The Desmond, but he'll be rare and angry, I can tell you. His pride of birth is his greatest pride of all, and that chap Flannigan, why he is--" "He's a clergyman of the Church of Ireland," said Margot solemnly. "My father will think nothing of that. He knows only too well that he's the grandson of a labourer on the Desmond estate, and though he's old, he's ten years younger than your aunt; but keep it dark, pushkeen. I know you never let out secrets. I'll do my best for them for your sake, my pretty sweet. But what a pair of fools they are, to be sure." "Oh, Uncle Fergus, don't talk like that. If we can make them joyful, let's try. Let's try very hard." "Blessings on ye, pushkeen, I'll do my best for your sake. Now I think we must tidy up for supper." FOOTNOTE: [1] Means the Irish of _Ireland forever_. CHAPTER XXIV. A POUND A DAY--A PICTURE AND A WEDDING. Notwithstanding all her confident dreams and her bold, resolute spirit, little Margot did not find the next day at Desmondstown either peaceful or happy. Fergus, true to his word, told his father of Norah's engagement. The old man stormed and raved. He sent for Norah, who refused to go to him. His rage grew yet hotter. He said that if she did not appear at once he would have her locked up; that no child of his should disgrace herself by marrying a Flannigan.