“I will explain, my dear madam. The O’Melaghlins have been The O’Melaghlins from time immemorial, as I had the honor to tell you before. They were monarchs of Meath for many centuries; but they were never ‘mister,’ like any ordinary Smith, Jones, or Brown, or Anybody. So, my fair kinswoman, you will please to oblige me by dropping that little prefix to my old historic name.” “But, Mr.—I beg pardon. But, sir, if I must not call you ‘mister,’ how shall I address you or speak of you?” inquired the bewildered young woman. “Simply as O’Melaghlin, or The O’Melaghlin. My dear, how would you speak of or address Julius Cæsar, Marc Antony, or Alexander the Great? Would you say ‘Mr.’ Julius Cæsar? ‘Mr.’ Marc Antony? No, you would not. And no more should you say Mr. O’Melaghlin. There are family names, my dear lady, that outrank not only the little prefix of ‘mister,’ but all titles, and such a name is that of The O’Melaghlin,” solemnly concluded the chieftain. “Very well, O’Melaghlin,” laughed Palma, “I will hereafter always remember to call you O’Melaghlin, though, indeed, it will make me feel like a very fast young woman, and just as if I had a jockey cap on my head and a cigar in my mouth.” “I wish to be enlightened,” said Stuart, with a smile. “You call me ‘Wolfscliff.’ Why, upon the same principle, do you not call yourself Arghalee?” The chieftain drew himself up with a royal air and replied majestically: “Because, sir, The O’Melaghlin ranks the territorial title of Arghalee, as it ranks every other title!” “Does not the royal name of Stuart rank Wolfscliff?” “It would; but there are thousands of Stuarts, and you are only one of them, and derive your individual distinction from your manor. You are Stuart, of Wolfscliff. There is but one O’Melaghlin. I am The O’Melaghlin.” “And your son?” “He is Michael O’Melaghlin. When he succeeds me he will be The O’Melaghlin.” “I see!” said Stuart, with a smile. But I doubt if he did see. CHAPTER XXXV AN ANGEL’S WORK The nest day Palma had a final and decisive talk with Mrs. Pole. In such high esteem was this good woman held by the young Stuarts that they regarded her almost as a mother. When the question of going to England that summer was first mooted, the alternative was placed before Mrs. Pole, and the choice given, her to accompany the young pair on their voyage and foreign tour or to remain at Wolfscliff in charge of the house. And the woman, on her part, had entreated Mr. and Mrs. Stuart to tell her which they would prefer to have her do. To which they replied that they wished her to do just as she pleased. This morning Palma came into the nursery, where Mrs. Pole sat beside the cradle, watching the sleeping babies, while she sewed on some plain needlework.