Whether it was her great fatigue or the fact that she was sleeping at last in the home of her ancestors, or the other fact that there was at least _one_ dear old man living at Desmondstown, little Margot St. Juste slept like a top during the whole of that first night in the house where her mother had been born. She slept so soundly that she was quite unconscious of the fact that The Desmond, accompanied by Madam, entered the hastily improvised bedroom at the dawn of day and bent over the child. There was a look of positive rapture on both their old faces. "Eh, but she's our Kathleen to the life," said Madam. "It's the Almighty has sent her to comfort us in our old age," said The Desmond. "Step softly Madam, _macree_. Don't for the life of you wake the bit thing." So little Margot was allowed to have her sleep out, but when she awoke she stared about her in great bewilderment. Her three old young uncles, and her three old young aunts were collected round the bed. The moment she stirred, Norah made that sort of "whoop" for which she was so celebrated, and disappeared from the room. She danced into her father's presence. She was wearing a pink dress and was attired also in a pale pink sash. Her hair was full of curl papers. She looked singularly old, but had all the actions of a frolicsome kitten. "The pixie is awake, father," she said. This was the signal for intense excitement. The Desmond desired his daughter to behave herself and put away some of her childishness. "I can't help being young, I _am_ young," replied Norah. "You're not; you are a withered twig," said The Desmond. "Find Madam and tell her that the child is awake. Madam will see to her breakfast; and try to dress like a woman of your years, Norah. You are nothing but a figure of fun in that pink dress and pale pink sash." Norah laughed, winked, showed her really white fine teeth and disappeared from the room. She found old Madam without much difficulty and soon a cosy breakfast was brought up to little Margot. She was in the midst of enjoying her second egg when The Desmond popped in his silvery head. "Hullo," he said, "so here we are again." "Yes, yes, and it is _lovely_ to see you, grand-dad, and please come and sit close to me and send the old young girls and the old young boys away. Only Madam may stay if she likes, for she's a perfect darling. Tell her--tell her to feed me. I like to be petted and I love _really_ old people, but I don't like old young people to call me 'pixie' and 'pushkeen.'" With a wave of his hand, which was at once imperative and intensely severe, The Desmond cleared the room of all his sons and daughters. Madam sat down on the side of the bed and fed Margot, who gave herself up to intense present enjoyment.