“Yes, and I got so sick of them, I just longed to go inside the windows and jumble everything up into a heap anyhow, and then write a big 1 shilling 11 pence farthing over the whole lot. “The only thing I really enjoyed,” running on, “was the front seat on the top of an omnibus, with a talkative driver. That was always funny, whether he discoursed on politics, or religion, or the aristocracy; or expressed himself forcibly on motor-cars and the ‘Twopenny Tube.’ Do you use the Tube much?” “Nearly every day of my life.” “Goodness!—and you still live! Don’t you think Dante must wish he had thought of a Tube for his Inferno? It must be like Heaven to come here and sniff our lovely mountain air all day long. I wonder you don’t go about with your nose in the air too busy sniffing to speak.” “It reminds one of what one might imagine Heaven, in various ways,” he said, with smiling innuendo. “Eileen and mother might stand for the angels,” she ran on, “and Jack for the prodigal son or penitent sinner.” “And where would you be?” “Well, I guess I’d be most useful helping Saint Peter keep the door,” looking wicked, “but perhaps I shouldn’t be admitted at all. “Not but that I’d stand as good a chance as Jack,” she finished with a decisive air. “Is Jack Mr O’Hara?” “Yes. He lives at the Parsonage next door to us.” “And you’ve known him all your life?” “Every single bit of it. I can remember hitting him in the face, and kicking at him generally, as soon as I can remember anything.” “Then I suppose you’ve made up for it all since.” “Oh, dear no! except to hit harder as I grew stronger.” “He’s very handsome,” said Ted a little thoughtfully. “He’s Irish,” replied Paddy promptly. “Ah, yes! I forgot,” slyly; “it covers a multitude of sins, doesn’t it, to be Irish?” “We usually call them virtues!” she rapped out, quick as lightning, and then they both laughed, and a moment later the Colonel was heard calling to them to come and play Bridge with him. The following morning they sailed back together, and Ted was made to remain, much to his delight, for the rest of the day. They played tennis all the afternoon, and then, after having tea on the lawn, rowed across the Loch to Warrenpoint to listen to the Pierrots. When they came to sit quietly, however, everything did not continue quite so smoothly. Jack had been playing tennis with Paddy most of the afternoon, because it made more even games, but now he manifested a marked desire to talk to Eileen, just as Ted, who had been playing with Eileen, wanted now to talk to Paddy. With the usual contrariness of events, Eileen was perfectly indifferent which of the two she talked to, but Paddy, a little upset by her old playfellow’s growing predilection for her quiet sister, wanted to talk to Jack. The time had hardly come yet for Paddy to realise just why she was upset. She only knew that Jack somehow stood alone in her little world, and felt vaguely that no future could be happy without him.