"Do they, indeed! He shan't humbug _me_, that's one thing certain!" was Sylvia's mental comment. Aloud she assented cordially. "Most handsome eyes! I call him unusually good-looking for a man, and he has amused me very much, but I am more than ready for tea, and a little of your society. There's the clatter of the cups. Welcome sound, it's music in my ears! How I used to long for it when I was ill!" "I'll draw the curtains and make the room look cosy. That is one good thing about a tiny house--you can keep it warm. We were frozen in the great draughty barns of rooms at Knock, and Pixie used to look so quaint with her feet in snow-boots, and her hands in a muff, and her little nose as red as a cherry. It was so cold that it kept her awake at nights, until the Major bought an elegant little egg-cosy at a bazaar in Dublin, and she slept in it regularly through the frost. We used to go to kiss her last thing every night, every man Jack of us, for the pleasure of seeing her lying there, so peaceful, with the cosy perched over her nose! Muffins, dear? I didn't make them, so you may eat them with an easy mind." Jack came downstairs at the summons of the tea-bell, looking in languishing fashion at his comforter as he entered the room, when, to his surprise, back came an answering glance, as it were parodying his own, the sentimental attitude belied by twinkling eyes and mischievous lips. The blush and tremor of an hour ago were conspicuous by their absence, and the change was by no means appreciated by the startled onlooker. In vain he tried to return to the old footing, accompanying the simplest remark with a hint of secret understanding, and waiting upon her with a deference which seemed humbly to inquire the reason of the change. Sylvia bluntly inquired, "What is it?" in reply to his appealing looks, kept him trotting to and from the tea-table, and said, "How clumsy you are!" when his fingers touched her own over the cake-basket. Even Jack O'Shaughnessy found it impossible to continue flirting under these conditions, and devoted himself to the consumption of muffins with a crestfallen air, while Bridgie regarded him with fond commiseration from behind the tea-tray. It was at this opportune moment that the clatter of wheels stopped at the door and the peal of the bell rang through the house. Sarah went to the door, and there was a movement and bustle in the hall, at the sound of which Bridgie nodded complacently. "The Parcels Delivery van! I thought something must be coming. Have you any change, Jack? I've nothing smaller than sixpence, and the man will want a Christmas-box--a few coppers, perhaps." "Oh, give the poor beggar half a crown. Don't insult him with coppers," said Jack in his lordly way, pulling a handful of silver from his pocket and selecting the largest coin of the number. "I'll take it to him myself. You might give him some tea if there is any left. It is perishingly cold outside!"