"Why don’t you telegraph for her to come back since you miss her so terribly? _I_ can’t do any better! It’s so beautifully easy to stand and look on, and then grumble because you can’t live on the fat of the land! What do you care if the butcher’s bill runs to a disgraceful total—if we’re spending six times as much as we ought—if we have, in the end, to beg money of Aunt Kezia, because ours has all gone—if the bread-pan is full of stale bread? No, you’re the lordly male creature who ordains impossibilities and expects them to be carried out with a smiling face! Oh, I’m sick—_sick_ of it all! And I loathe and _abominate_ housekeeping on farthings! It’s sordid and hateful!" And she fled from the room. Denis stood and stared at the door; then he gave a low whistle, and walked slowly up and down the room. Finally, he strode out and banged on to Nell’s door. "May I come in, twin?" "Yes," said a very small voice. He rushed at her and butted his cheek against hers, which was suspiciously wet. "I was a beast, mavourneen! I’m sorry, Nell—all through. By Jove, to think I’m growing into a grumpy old curmudgeon all along o’ these London fogs! Why didn’t we just laugh at it all, I wonder? I’m sure it _was_ funny! You’re not cross with poor bad-tempered old Snarly-Jaw, are you, Nell?" "No! You know quite well that it was _I_—" "I say, Nell, stick on a hat! We’ll go and get some kippers for tea! Savory and economical and charmingly vulgar! I’m pretty hungry—I am. And we’ll haul Ted along, shall we? To get the taste of that grumpy lunch out of him, eh? Here’s a hat!" He seized one up from the bed and stuck it on her head. She looked up at him from under its brim, her pretty eyes still wet, her dimples dancing. He seized her face in his hands, and gave her cheek a great, hearty kiss. "Denis," she said, "suppose Fate had given me Patsy O’Neil for a twin!" "You desecrate the annals of our house by such an infamous and unalluring supposition." Ted was easily persuaded to come back to tea: he jumped at the invitation before it was finished. He would have agreed to come and stay for a week, a month, so terrified was he that he should betray remembrance of that luckless luncheon. The Stronghold greeted them with a great, glowing fire, before which Jim O’Driscoll sat eating a biscuit; the table glimmered in its light, set out with a special daintiness; poor Sarah also was doing her best to obliterate memories. There was a raid on the kitchen for forks; a hustling and pushing for places at the fire in the Stronghold. Ted pushed and hustled Denis with all his strength, but his politeness stood in his way with the others. There was a food deal of noise and a good many tumbles as they fought and elbowed each other, and of course Molly’s kipper fell into the fire. "Oh! Oh, _Denis_—get it out!" "I will!" cried Ted, and gallantly hied to the rescue.