"I suppose he has a family," I said, more by way of being civil to Oona than anything else, for I didn't suppose the occupation of Rose Hill would affect us any more than the occupation of twenty other houses in the country. "Sorra one. He's an ould bachelor gentleman, or a widdy man--I don't rightly know which. But it isn't about him I'm thinking, an' he's not expected this good while yet. 'Tis a visit I'm after havin' from my cousin, Mary O'Connor. She's goin' as housekeeper. I believe 'twas Lady O'Brien gave her the good word, for the General and she's ould friends. 'Tis glad I am Mary's in place again, an' two housemaids an' a boy under her. It'll be new life to her, the poor woman, to have them to drive over-an'-hither. She was always used to rulin' sarvants, an' a fine heavy hand over them she has, Miss Hilda dear. I'd like to be there the first clay or two to hear the malavoguin' Mary'll give them with her tongue. They're English, more betoken." Oona seemed as heartened up by Mary's news as Mary could be herself, and I was cheered insensibly enough to waken up to a certain interest in her tale. "The grandest of chaney an' ould eccentricities out o' the Aist. Mary says there is haythen gods an' goddesses that hasn't a screed on them, and 'ud be downright ondecent, only they're brute bastes, an' silver trays as big as a cart-wheel, an' little houses--piggodys, Mary says they're named--of ivory, an' big ould elephant tusks. There's no end to the grandeur. An' Mary's duty to you, Miss Hilda, an' if you'd bring over the little ladies, an' Master Hugh and Master Donald, she thinks they'd like to see the ingenuities. An' proud she'd be if you'd take a cup of tea afterwards." "It would be very pleasant, Oona," I said, "if you are sure there would be no danger of intrusion." "Sure isn't Mary housekeeper, an' the master not expected this month yet? Let alone that him an' Lady O'Brien's ould cronies, an' I expect yez'll be in an' out with him, like a dog at a fair, all the time as soon as he gets settled." "Then we shall certainly go, Oona," I said. "The twins would love it, I know, and so would the boys." "Oh, Miss Hilda dear!" cried Oona, her voice changing to one of tragic supplication, "all I ask you is to keep them darlin' boys from the ould swoords an' pistols an' trumperies that Mary says has come down by the cart-load. Sure 'tis not in Nature if they go meddlin' with them that they won't kill aich other or thimselves. Let alone that some o' them is maybe poisoned, as Mary says, an' a scratch o' one 'ud let the life out of a rig'mint." "They'll be sensible, Oona, an' not meddle with them." "Indeed, then, an' if they are they won't be like any boy-flesh I ever heard tell of. 'Tis as natural for boys to kill thimselves as for the bird to fly. There! an' you can't have 'em different. The Lord made them so."