Chapter IX: Part 9

"No. I have come from there only half an hour ago."

"Are you _sure_?" Nell looked bewildered.

"Stewart had tea with us. She was not there."

Nell looked at Molly; her eyes had widened suddenly,

"Molly!"--her voice was quite sharp--"you said she had gone--"

"I thought she had. A maid came and asked her--"

Denis bounded down the stairs.

"Sarah!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Do you know anything about a maid coming from next door to ask Miss Sheila to go to tea?"

"Yes, sir, but she said, 'No, thank you, she didn't wish to go.'"

"Have you seen her go out, Sarah?"

"No, sir. She's never out, and it pouring and that bitter cold and windy!"

In another minute he had on his coat, and had gone off to the milkman's to see if she were there. The others waited. Molly tried guiltily to comfort Nell, and to excuse herself.

"Oh, do be quiet!" Nell interrupted her. "Can't you at least do that?"

Denis returned with no news of her.

"She may have gone to Mr. Yovil's or to Sarah's home--"

"Or Ted Lancaster's--Denis," Nell's voice was desperate, "she's been gone nearly three hours! I can't stay here. I'll go to Sarah's, while you go--"

"You will not! You cannot go out alone! It is dark and raining," Miss Kezia interrupted.

Nell gave a queer little laugh.

"I'm going," she said.

"Nell," Denis interposed, "I'll get you a cab. You go to Mr. Yovil's--I'll go off to Lancaster's. Sarah will go home." His tone was quietly authoritative.

Miss Kezia found herself put aside and everyone obeying him implicitly. In reality she was very uneasy and anxious herself, but she hid it beneath a cold and disapproving manner.

Nell returned a few minutes after he did. She shook her head.

"He was out. She hasn't been there."

"There's Sarah yet. She isn't back."

"Must we wait, Denis?"

"No. I'm off to the police station. If she should bring her back, I can go and cancel orders."

His hand was on the door latch. "Here's Sarah!" he said.

Sarah hurried in, wet, breathless.

"No, missansir--oh, and them crool moters--and she such a baby for all her grown ways!"

The wind and the rain beat in angrily. Denis closed the door, and turned to speak to Nell. Something drove up and stopped outside. He flung open the door. In the light of the lamp they could discern a small figure standing by a horse's head. The horse was in a four-wheeled cab, the driver was getting down from his box. The next instant Sheila Pat was met at the gate and marshalled up the steps. Into the hall she came, a small, weary figure, drenched through, her face shining white in the lamplight.

They closed round her; Nell's arms squeezed her desperately; there was a babel of questions, reprimands, relief.

"What a rikkledous fuss!" were the first words the Atom spoke, and a strong odor of peppermint began to pervade the hall.

"Where have you been?" demanded Miss Kezia for the third time.

"Out," laconically.

Nell cried: "Oh, Sheila Pat, you're soaked through! Come and get dry things on!"

"Directly her clothes have been changed I wish to hear an account of what she has been doing," said Miss Kezia.

Denis picked her up into his arms and held her tight. "You're eating peppermint, you vulgar little ragamuffin!"

"He gave it me--he says it keeps out the cold wonderful. He used to take to drink to keep himself warm, but ever since his little baby was borned, a year ago, he sucks peppermint instead!" The excited little voice vanished up the stairs.

"With whom have you been consorting, Sheila?" Miss Kezia's dire tones followed her.

"I haven't been con--con--doin' that at all!" was the indignant response.

Denis translated into the wet ear nearest to him:--

"Who was 'he,' duckums?"

"Mr. Willie Riley," in a dignified voice. "And I shared his tea!" triumphantly.

"Hurry up, Denis!" Nell's face was worried, anxious. "I've her dry things all ready. But I think she ought to go to bed--"

"I won't! Sure, Nell O'Brien, I'm not a baby to go to bed at seven o'clock!"

Nell, rubbing her down, found she was shivering and trembling all through her slim little body. She huddled her into warm, dry clothes, rubbed her toes, hugged her.

"Asthore, asthore, you've given us all such a bad time!"

"But, Nell, I'm really not a baby! I don't see why you make such a fuss."

"You're absurd, Atom! We didn't know what might be happening to you. We don't know now what was happening. You _must_ tell us--"

"I went out, and--and I got lost, Nell."

"But where did you go? And why?"

"Oh, we were all so frightened!" interposed Molly. "And I felt so awful, because I told Nell you were next door. I never dreamed you'd said you wouldn't go, and I heard the maid say it to Sarah, and oh, Sarah cried and said motor cars killed all the children, and I do think you're awfully naughty--" She stopped, out of breath.

"So do I." Nell's arms were round her again; she gave her a little shake. "I'm dreadfully angry with you, sweet, and you shall have some nice hot bread and milk presently."

"I don't want it, Nell! I shared Mr. Riley's tea."

"Tell me why you went out, Atom," she coaxed.

The little body stiffened.

"A person doesn't--always--want to--to tell things," she said, a note of desperation in her voice. "I'll tell you all about Mr. Riley," eagerly.

Denis came in. "I say, Aunt Kezia's waiting. Come and confess, Atom!"

"I won't."

"You've got to be a man. Come along."

He had touched the right note. Downstairs marched the Atom and into the dining room. Not pale was she now. Two vivid spots of colour glowed in her cheeks; her eyes shone. She sat her down on a chair and began:--

"I wished to go out all by my alone, so I put on my things and I creeped down the stairs and out of the door--"

"Most wrong! Most naughty!" interpolated Miss Kezia, but the Atom went on unheeding.

"Sure I'll not be tellin' you anythin' I don't wish to, so it's no use askin' undesirable questions about--" a halt, a momentary quaver, "about things. This London is just houses and houses and houses and streets like--" pause for an insulting metaphor, "like twin maggots! And I got lost." She stopped abruptly.

"It is very naughty and selfish to cause so much trouble to others while you enjoy yourself roaming the streets!" said Miss Kezia.

A curious expression came into the Atom's small face--a bitter little expression that made it look oddly old for a moment.

"Go on, asthore," Nell put in. "What did you do when you were lost?"

"I walked and walked. I wouldn't ask a policeman the way, because Sarah's young man says they're a bad lot and you can't trust them. And then," her face kindled, "I came upon a cab-stand, and there was one poor horse with his nose-bag slipped down,--the strap had come loose, and he couldn't get his poor nose in at all,--and I ran across and I kissed his nose--it had a white flame--he was a bay with a hog mane--and I tried to get his bag up, but, oh, 'tis heavy they are! I tried and tried, and I gave him a handful of oats to go on with, and then Willie Riley came along--" She broke off. "Oh, Nell," she said, in a breathless little aside, "all day long I'd been hearing all these hidjous London people's voices, all shoutin'--and Willie Riley came along, and oh, he called out, 'Sure and what's wrong at all?' Oh, but 'twas grand! All day I hadn't heard it. 'Sure and what's wrong at all?' just like that."

"The horse might have bitten you. It was a most foolish and foolhardy thing to do," reprimanded Miss Kezia.

Sheila Pat stared at her in a funny little considering way, then pursued:--

"He soon put it right, and then we had a talk. Nell, he comes from Cork! And he was tellin' me all about his home--"

"Get on with what _you_ did!" put in Miss Kezia.

"I'm tellin' you," obstinately, "I talked with him. And then he drove me here." With a sudden abrupt movement she slipped from the chair. "I'll go to bed now."

There were great dark rings round her eyes; Nell saw her shiver.

"Come on, then, Atom," Denis picked her up again. "I'll carry you up."

The small arms went with sudden desperate clinging round his neck; Sheila Pat pressed her cheek hard into his.

"She must be punished," said Miss Kezia. "She has been wandering about alone for more than three hours."

"We'll see about that to-morrow," Denis said.

Nell went towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going, Eileen?"

"To make her some hot bread and milk."

"It is perfectly absurd the way you none seem to think she should be punished--"

"I shall make her promise never to go out alone again."

"She shared that cabman's tea," grimly; "that is sufficient. I will not have her coddled and fussed over as if she has done something clever."

"She must have the bread and milk. She is tired and shivering." Nell's eyes looked dark, her head was back. For a moment Miss Kezia hesitated whether she should enforce her words. She glanced keenly at Nell's face.

"If it is to stave off a cold, I will say no more," she said, and turned away.

When Nell took the bread and milk up, she found Sheila Pat on Denis's knee, flushed, heavy-eyed, half asleep.

"I don't want it, Nell! Make her take it away, Denis!" Her tone was peevish.

"Not I. I want you to eat it. Come, try, old girl."

But the Atom turned her head away, and buried it deeper in his chest.

"I don't want it! I don't want it!"

"But you've got to try and eat it, Sheila Pat! Come, don't be a baby."

She sat up listlessly.

"I'll feed you. We'll pretend you are a baby, shall we?"

Halfway through it her heavy lids drooped, her weary little head fell back against his shoulder. Nell took the basin away.

"I'll get her to bed as quickly as I can," she whispered.

"Molly, run and fetch her nightie--to warm."

But the Atom clung wearily to Denis.

"I don't want to go to bed. Denis, need I go to bed?"

"Must, old lady."

"May I go in my clothes, then? I don't want to get undressed."

"You'll be so much more cosey, dear," coaxed Nell. "It won't take a minute."

Denis put her down. She stood gazing into the fire, her sleepy eyes closing now and then.

"Oh, Nell--why does a person have such a lot of clothes?" as her arms were dragged out of various garments.

"Oh--leave my chimmy on--"

"Need I have my stockin's off?"

In her blue flannel nightgown she knelt in front of a chair and said her prayers. She roused over them.

"I've got a new bit to-night," she said, and gave a curious little shudder. "I'm goin' to pray it to Jesus as well as God."

When she had finished Nell carried her into their bedroom, wrapped in a warmed blanket.

"Good night, Nell." Sheila Pat's arms clung tight.

Three times Nell peeped in that evening, and found her tossing restlessly, wide-eyed.

When she came to bed, Sheila Pat was still awake. She sat up.

"Nell, I've been very inceitful!"

"You're going to tell me why you went out?"

"Yes."

Nell sat down on the bed and took her, blankets and all, into her lap.

"Now, sweetheart."

But the Atom was silent. She wriggled restlessly.

"I feel--oh, someone's playin' tunes in my head, Nell! I--won't I ever be sleepy again? My legs hurt, Nell. Is it all those steps?"

"What steps, dear?"

"The monnyment. Are you _very_ s'prised? I went up the monnyment--to--Nell, do you think I've got a cold comin'? My nose feels funny."

"I'm afraid you have. Go on, pet."

"The boy told me--I asked him--he had blue eyes and red cheeks and--and I thought he might be nice like an Irish boy, and--and--I--I felt," with sudden passion, "I would just _die_ if I didn't see it--just one tiny bit! And he said I could--from the top of the monnyment--he said, 'Oh, yes, you can see Ireland right enough from there, you can see all the world,' but--I--couldn't--"

Nell's arms tightened about her.

"He was a wicked boy! He told a lie. I mustn't say 'lie,' but I will. I could only see--dirty--smoke--and houses--"

"How did you find your way there?"

"I don't know. It was very differcult, and I kept goin' wrong, but I asked people. And one woman gave me an apple off her barrow. It was very kind of her. But there was only smoke and houses--"

A sudden convulsive sob shook her from head to foot.

"I--I _ran_ up a lot of the steps--" her fingers dug into Nell's arm--"and it was three pennies--and the man told me there are three hundred and forty-five steps--it was a long way--and," a little terrified shudder shook her, "there's a nasty cage--he said it's because people used to throw theirselves over to--because they wanted to kill theirselves, Nell! I--I didn't know people ever wanted to kill theirselves, did you?"

The shrinking terror in her eyes hurt Nell horribly.

"Don't, Atom--don't! Dear, it's only poor people who--who are mad--who don't know what they are doing. If they knew, they wouldn't do it."

The terror lightened a little. She lay quiet a little while in Nell's arms.

Nell hoped she was falling asleep, but presently the whole small form was shaken by another desperate sob.

"It was only smoke---and houses--" came a desolate little murmur of utter weariness.

"Try to go to sleep, darling--do try."

"I'm not cryin', Nell! Only--I--you see shiverin' and a cold is rather like cryin', isn't it?"

"Very much, but you'll be better to-morrow. You must get better quickly, because suppose our first letters from Australia were to come with you sick! And they may come any day now, sweet. And there mustn't be anyone sick here! Because how can we celebrate the occasion properly then? If the letters say that mother is quite, _quite_ strong again--and they will, darling, I know they will!--well, what shall we do then?"

She talked on softly, gently, and after a while the Atom slept. Nell sat for some time with her on her lap, frightened to move lest she wake her, but at last she laid her gently in her bed, and the Atom still slept on.

But the next morning Nell was wakened suddenly at six o'clock. She sat up. The Atom was striving to pour some water from the bottle to the glass, and it was the two clinking together that had waked Nell. The bottle shook in the Atom's hands; Nell saw that she was shaking all over.

She slipped to the floor.

"Go back to bed, asthore, I'll give you some water."

"I--I'm so th-thirsty, Nell, and I c-can't keep still--I'm r-rather like Mrs. J-Jelly!" with a shivery little smile.

"You're frozen. Now, drink it quickly, and let me tuck you in again."

"I'd sooner get up, Nell."

"Not yet, Sheila Pat."

"My bed's so c-cold, Nell. I don't like my bed."

"Come into mine, dear."

She snuggled into Nell, shivering and shaking.

"Will I make you very cold?"

"Oh, no, asthore. Now go to sleep."

After a while Nell dozed. She woke suddenly to find Sheila Pat lying beside her with all the bedclothes off.

"I'm so hot, Nell! I just burn--I b'lieve I'll scorch soon."

"You've caught a bad cold, Sheila Pat. You'll have to stay in bed."

"I won't! I want to go out and get cool. I'll go and have my cold bath now."

But very soon she was shivering again.

Miss Kezia sent for Dr. Everton. Sheila Pat was pronounced an invalid, the fire was lit, and the restless little Atom condemned to bed.

Dr. Everton looked grave; he murmured the dread words--rheumatic fever--but hoped it might be merely a heavy, influenza cold. He told them to be very careful.

It seemed a long, long day. Sheila Pat, realising she was to be an invalid, used all her sturdy powers to be a brave one. She was very hot and feverish; her poor little head ached, and she ached all over her body.

"Nell," she said once, "I can't be very little, after all, because there's such a heap of room for the aches! I feel most as big as the giant Mahon MacMahon. Nell, I wonder if he ever caught cold?"

But there was something that worried the Atom and tormented her far more than the worst of the aches did, and that was a bewildering, disconcerting longing to cry that had assailed her. Over and over again the tears got as far as her eyes, and had to be hidden away in the pillow. Once one ran down her cheek, and they caught her breath in her throat and made it ache with a worse ache than that in her legs. She lay tossing and turning, her brilliant eyes full of a desperation that hurt the others to see. Every other minute she was sitting up, her pig-tail sticking out, breathing hard.

"Mayn't I get up, just for a _minute_? May I just put my legs over the edge, then? Nell, I--I'm just tired of bein' in bed!" The poor little voice shook despairingly.

"Atom, _darling_!"

"I will be good, Nell." Down she lay again. "Am I a very tiresome invalid?"

"You're a jewel, sweetheart, only you must try to lie quiet."

"Yes, Nell."

Pause.

"When will Denis come, Nell?"

"Directly he gets home from the bank."

"Will it be _very_ long now?"

"No, dear, not very."

"How long, Nell?"

"An hour and a half," unwillingly.

Sheila Pat hid weak tears in the pillow.

"Nell."

"Yes, asthore?"

"P'raps those people who throwed theirselves off the monnyment thought they could _fly_. Do you think they did, Nell?"

"Very likely. Try not to think about them, Atom."

"I--I can't help it, Nell. Do you think God would make the ground soft so's it wouldn't hurt _very_ much?"

"Yes, dear."

"Up again?"

"I--I'm 'fraid I'll burn all up, Nell!"

She took the hot little hands into hers. Sheila Pat rested her head wearily against her arm.

"Is Denis comin' now, Nell?"

"In an hour, now, sweetheart."

"I'm so thirsty, Nell."

Nell fetched the toast water.

"I don't want that! I want real water. Mayn't I have just _one_ drink?"

"Try this, dear. You mustn't have any more plain water."

She drank a little.

"Have you ever been up three hundred and forty-five steps, Nell? It does make your legs ache, but I wouldn't have minded that--if-- There was only smoke and houses, Nell--"

She dropped back on to her pillow and buried her head in it.

"Some day you'll see it,"--Nell's voice shook a little--"see the greenness of it--the--"

"I shouldn't wonder if I'm dead before then," the Atom told her pillow with heartsick pessimism.

"Oh, Sheila Pat! That's not like you. You've had colds before, and been so brave!"

"They were different colds." The pillow was dented deep as she burrowed her head feverishly in her puzzlement. "I feel quite diffrent. I think I've got a cold _inside_ as well as _outside_ this time, Nell."

Nell looked at the dark little head in the pillow, and her eyes filled with tears.

Sheila Pat started kicking.

"My legs ache so, Nell! I can't keep them still."

"Let me rub them."

"Where's Molly?"

"I sent her away to keep you quiet. Do you want her?"

She shook her head.

"Isn't Denis comin' yet?"

"Very soon now, dear. Does rubbing make them a little better?"

"Yes, thank you, but I--I'm so hot, Nell! I feel as if it's never rained for years and years! Please may I have my Pearl?"

Nell fetched him. He squeaked angrily and protestingly.

"I don't want him, thank you. S'pose I gave him my cold? Will you put him back in his cage, please?"

Nell took him away, came back, and tucked her in afresh.

"Now try to sleep, sweetheart."

"I don't b'lieve I'll ever go to sleep again. I feel most as if they've burnt eye-holes all round my head."

She heard him coming. She knelt upon the bed quivering and shaking with sick eagerness.

"Well, poor little invalid!" His big arms went round her. "Wasn't it a little goose to go and catch cold? And the people worrying over you! Pennington sent his compliments, and Lancaster his love. Has she been a good Atom, Nell?"

"I--I'm very worryin'. I'm not very brave," she confided to his shoulder.

"Yes, she is, but she can't go to sleep."

"Denis, might I get up--just for one minute?"

"On to my knee. Come along. Plenty of blankets."

"I do b'lieve I'll scorch you." Eagerly she snuggled into his arms.

"When I smell burning, I'll put you back into your bed. Head ache, old girl?"

"Yes. I s'pose it couldn't grow any bigger in one could it? It _feels_ so big and heavy."

"That's because it's full of all the sleep you ought to have had."

When he was going, she stopped him:--

"Denis, there aren't _many_ people who--who have throwed theirselves off the monnyment, are there?"

"Bless you, no! Only one or two poor lunatics who didn't know what they were doing!"

"Perhaps it wouldn't hurt a lunytic quite so much?"

"Not it! You see, the poor things wouldn't be feeling the same as ordinary people--they'd all be dulled and heavy. Don't think of them, there's a good old Atom!"

"Denis, will you come back before you go to the bank again?"

"Why, yes, asthore! I won't be long over lunch."

The long, weary day dragged slowly on. Sheila Pat set all her hardy will to work, and succeeded in silencing her tongue. But Nell, looking at the restless little head tossing, turning, burrowing into the pillows; at the great heavy, weary eyes; wished her will were not so strong. She was sure it would be better for the Atom to give way and cry her cry out. The puzzled look that she met again and again in her eyes, the seeking, despairing expression, wrung her heart. She knew that the poor Atom could not understand; that she was at war with Providence in a vague, bewildered way, and that she was heartsick for her country.

Nell refused to leave her; but at last, in the afternoon, Miss Kezia, with strong common sense, put matters before her, and Nell went for a little walk with Molly. Miss Kezia betook herself and her knitting to the Atom's room. The Atom was lying with all the bedclothes off and trailing on the floor. Miss Kezia put them on again in silence. Sudden wicked feverish battle leapt to the Atom's eyes. Directly Miss Kezia had sat down she kicked them off again. Miss Kezia rose and rearranged them. When this had taken place four times, Sheila Pat lay exhausted and breathing hard, but in her eyes there still lurked battle.

"Please will you fetch my Pearl?" She watched triumphantly. "If you don't, I'll go and fetch him myself."

Miss Kezia hesitated.

"I will!" the Atom said firmly.

"I'll bring him up in his cage." Miss Kezia rose.

The triumph fell away from the flushed, restless face.

"I don't want him, thank you. I'm afraid of givin' him my cold."

"Very well," patiently.

Sheila Pat watched her a minute.

"May I have some toast water, please?"

Pause.

"I've dropped my handkerchief out of bed, Aunt Kezia."

Pause.

"Please will you readrange my pillow?"

Pause.

"May I have some more water, please, Aunt Kezia?"

Then Sheila Pat chuckled hysterically at the idea of her being able to make her aunt trot about just as she wished. But the amusement palled; listless curiosity made her ask, "Why don't you tell me to be quiet, Aunt Kezia?"

Miss Kezia looked at her over her knitting.

"You are feverish, and consequently restless. I conclude you would be as quiet as you could."

"No, I wasn't! I was doin' it to worry you."

Miss Kezia went on with her knitting.

"Are you cross, Aunt Kezia?"

"No, my dear, but I should be very glad if you could sleep a little."

"I'll try," said Sheila Pat, touched. She screwed her hot eyelids up with earnest purpose.

"Aunt Kezia, did _you_ know some people want to kill theirselves?"

Miss Kezia looked across at the small face peering at her, excited, shrinking.

"Only a very few. It's not a nice subject for you to think about, Sheila."

"They threw theirselves down off the monnyment--right down--"

"Not now. There is a--"

"I know. It's only poor people who are mad, isn't it?"

Miss Kezia hesitated.

Sheila Pat was sitting up; her eyes were terrified, wretched.

"Yes, my dear; they don't know what they are doing," Miss Kezia said gently. "Lie down."

The room began to grow dim. Miss Kezia knitted on in the dusk, hoping the Atom would fall asleep. Suddenly her voice, shrill, impish, rang out:--

"'The ould dame sat in a stiff'-backed chair,
Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click!
Sure she knitted of stockin's sixteen pair
Click-clack, click!

Her face was long and her temper short
Piff-pouff, piff-pouff, piff-pouff, piff!
Sure she worked in bad words more than she ought
Piff-pouff, piff!'"

A chuckle.

"Are you cross, Aunt Kezia?"

"No."

"_Why_ aren't you? Don't you think I asserve a cold?"

"You were naughty and foolish, and you are paying for it, but--" after a glance at the figure sitting up in the dusk, "I am sorry for you."

"I don't _want_ you to be sorry for me!"

Sheila Pat flung herself back.

"'Her mouth was wide and her tongue was sharp'--

Oh, go away! Go away! _Quick_--"

Miss Kezia, to her own amazement, found herself obeying the strenuous voice, the note of real agony. As she hesitated outside the door she heard a sudden storm of sobs--a breathless, wild weeping, a smothered wail of woe. And she walked softly away, her face flushed, as if she had been guilty of some meanness. She stood inside her room awhile, then went back. She paused outside the door; all was silent. She turned the handle clumsily and went in. Sheila Pat lay in her bed, quiet and still; but Miss Kezia knew she was not asleep.

"I've fetched my red wool for the border," she said, and she told the falsehood--a thing abhorred of her rigid conscientiousness--with a ringing cheerfulness.

Nell came in presently with a bowl of bread and milk. The Atom sat up listlessly.

"Aunt Kezia has been very patient," she said gravely. "Nell, _please_ need I have any?" She leant her head against Nell's arm, and her fingers squeezed it lovingly.

"Just a little, sweet. Has she slept at all, Aunt Kezia?

"No. Perhaps she will after her bread and milk."

But she didn't. And as the evening wore on her temperature rose; her little burning face grew more desperate. She began to talk, feverishly, excitedly. Dr. Everton called again. He gave a few directions, and urged them to keep her mind as quiet as possible.

"Her temperature is very high. She hardly knows what she is saying. I believe she has something on her mind. I will call early to-morrow morning. No talk, please; she _must_ be kept quiet."

"Nell, people never want to kill theirselves in Ireland, do they? There's not a bad old monnyment there. It had three hundred million steps. The man said so. It was _very_ high, you see, and I was glad, because I thought I'd be able to see over all the roofs, and I thought I'd see the sea and a blue mist and Ireland shinin' out--all green--oh, I want to go home, Nell! I want to go home!" She broke out into pitiful crying, too bad now to fight any longer.

"You shall soon--you shall soon--" Nell's arms were round her; her voice choked.

"I want to go now! S'pose I'm dead before mother and dad come back?--All green--and cool--I'm all scorchin', but I wouldn't be there--Oh, I want to go home! I want just to _look_ at it!--I'll come back quite quick--I b'lieve I'll _die_ if I don't go!--Molly O'Rourke died, because she went to America. I'll die, too--I'm all _sick_ inside--" She shook all over with sobs; her voice rose to a wail of utter woe. "I _must_ see it--all green--and the colt--oh, he can go--he'll be a fine horse, miss, entirely--look at the legs of him already!--Where's the sugar, then, you bad boy? _He_ knows!--All dirt and smoke and houses--and houses--and a great big monnyment where people kill theirselves. Nell, where are you? _Nell_--I b'lieve you're throwin' yourself off the monnyment--"

She quieted down a little; her body shook with deep, silent sobs. She began whispering to herself.

"If I could just see you--just for one minute--just walk 'long on the grass--by the stream--and up the Kilsparran hill--and go and see Biddy--with the turf smokin' in my eyes--and smell it--" Then she broke out crying again.

"I want to go home! I want to go home!"

Nell tried to soothe her. She was trembling herself; but the Atom's little body was torn and shaken with her awful weeping. She clung to Nell, crying out pitifully that she must go home--she must go home.

"I can't bear it any longer--I'm stiflin'--_please_--just to let me _feel_ it--I'll come back--so good--oh, _please_--I must go home! Oh, I want to go home! Where's Denis? I want Denis--"

"I'll go and fetch him, dear. Will you wait?"

She went out on to the landing. He was walking up and down: he turned quickly.

She shut the door quietly, and went to meet him. Her face was quite white; when she spoke, her voice shook.

"She wants you. She--she's crying for home--" Her lips quivered so that she could not go on. "I can't quiet her. She's--oh, I can't stand it, Denis!" She broke into sudden passionate tears.

"Don't cry, old girl. I'll see if I can quiet her."

He went into the room. Sheila Pat was crouched up on her bed, moaning: "I want to go home! I want to go home!"

She lifted her head, and her heavy eyes leapt to his with a wild gleam of hope. She stretched out her arms; she was shaking all over.

"Denis--oh, Denis--I want to go home!"

He put his arms round her.

"Try to be good, Atom--try to be quiet, and go to sleep." His face worked; he bit his lip. "You'll go--some day," he said huskily.

"Let me go now---I'll be so good--I won't stay a minute--if I can see it--just _feel_ it--and smell it--oh, Denis--Denis--I want to go home!"

"You shall go, Atom."

There was a sudden breathless lull. She gave a little shiver.

"I--I didn't quite hear--" she whispered hoarsely.

He glanced, his blue eyes desperate, across at Nell, then down at the wild, incredulous little face upturned to his. His eyes cleared, grew deeply tender.

"I said that you shall go." His voice was clear, firm. "Directly your cold has gone I will take you across for a few days if you still want to go."

She dropped suddenly forward against his chest.

"Please hold me." Her faint little whisper told of sudden ineffable peace.

They wrapped her in blankets, and he took her into his arms and walked up and down the room with her. She pulled her arm out of the coverings and stroked his cheek with a gesture almost of adoration.

"I don't think," a sudden passionate whisper came from her, "God _can_ be quite so nice as you!"

Up and down he went.

"Try to go to sleep, Atom."

"Yes, Denis."

Presently she started trembling.

"Denis?"

"Yes, acushla."

"Have--have I been asleep?"

"No."

"--I didn't _dream_ that you--you said--"

"I said that when your cold is better, I will take you home for a few days."

She gave a little wriggle and a snuggle of utter joy.

"I was 'fraid I'd dreamt it."

"Denis, _would_ you mind keep sayin' it every now and then?"

Nell sat by the fire and watched him tramp the room. Once Molly peeped round the door, but was frowned away. Once he tried to lay her down, but she objected with drowsy terror.

"_Hold_, me, Denis! Say it again!"

Presently.

"Denis, if we took all the poor mad people to Ireland, wouldn't they get better, and not want to kill theirselves any more?--Please just say it again."

"Where's Nell? I want to say good night to her."

Nell came and kissed her softly.

"Poor Nell--may she come, too, Denis?--All green--and cool--I--I can most smell it already--I like lying my cheek on the grass--like--this--it's so--cool--it smells--all--wet--Please--say it--again."

Up and down the room he went, while she slept in his arms. Nell signed to him to put her down, but he glanced down at the small white face in the blankets, and shook his head.

But at last he put her into her bed, and covered her up. For a minute they stood waiting, but Sheila Pat lay still, her breathing soft and regular.

Denis turned to Nell; he put his hand on her shoulder, marched her out of the room, and into the Stronghold.

Molly was there, frightened and sleepy.

"She's all right now. Fast asleep. Go to bed, old girl."

"It's been such a horrid day--is she really better?"

"Yes. I hope she'll be all right to-morrow. Scoot."

Molly went yawning out of the room.

They stood a minute, looking into the fire. Then Nell said:--

"Denis, don't you think--it will make it worse--for her--after?"

He answered without any hesitation:--

"There wasn't any worse then."

She dropped tiredly into a chair.

"No," she said.

He seized the poker, and began hammering at a lump of coal.

"I suppose the money--" she worried.

"Can't be helped! Nell, I _couldn't_ do anything else! I--I couldn't stand it!"

They were silent a little while. Presently he said:--

"I don't believe she'll go. If I know the Atom when she's calm and all right, she'll stick to her guns. If she doesn't--if she still wants to go--I take her. The coming back--having it all over again--will be awful for her, but there was nothing else to do."

"No," she agreed.

*CHAPTER XXX*

"Good morning, Atom."

Nell bent caressingly over the bed, and laid her hand lightly on a cool little brow.

"Good mornin', Nell."

"You're better, asthore, you're better." There was a gay lilt to her voice that told her relief, her joy, more plainly than her words.

"Yes," the Atom said. "Will I get up now, Nell?"

"Oh, no, dear, you must wait till Dr. Everton has been. Do you ache anywhere now?"

"Only a little."

Nell looked down into the sombre eyes, then turned away.

Sheila Pat lay stiff and still, her small face frowning a little, solemn, mournful.

When Denis came cheerily in, she looked at him quickly, nervously, and her face flushed a little.

"Well, invalidish Atom, you'll soon be up and worrying me again, won't you?"

"Good mornin', Denis."

"Pardon. Good morning. Aren't you going to give me a kiss?"

She turned her face to his languidly. He looked at Nell and raised his eyebrows. Then he sat down on the bed and talked.

Sheila Pat lay very quiet and answered monosyllabically.

"You're very unkind to me, Atom, you know."

She gave him another odd little glance, and her face grew scarlet.

"I--I'm thinkin'," she stammered. "--I'm not unkind--"

"Of course you're not! I was joking. I must be off now. Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

When he had gone, she lifted her head.

"Nell, when is Dr. Everton comin'?"

"Any moment."

"Nell--"

"Yes, dear?"

"I--I wish to speak to him--alone, please."

For a moment Nell looked startled.

"There isn't anything--you don't mean there's some pain you haven't told us of?"

"No. I'm quite well now."

"Very well. You shall, dear."

"Thank you."

Molly tiptoed into the room, knocked a photograph off the mantle shelf, bade the Atom a loudly whispered good morning, stood on one leg, then on the other, and tiptoed out again.

"Nell, isn't Dr. Everton here yet?"

"He will be presently, Atom."

"Will he come straight up to me?"

"Oh, yes."

"Are you _sure_? Perhaps he's talkin' to Aunt Kezia now?"

"I'll go and see," soothingly.

In a few minutes he came. Miss Kezia came upstairs with him, but at Nell's request she followed her presently from the room, and left the doctor and the Atom alone.

"Dr. Everton!"

"Yes, my dear?"

Pause.

He looked down at her surprised. Sheila Pat was breathing hard; her eyes were wildly eager.

"Something is troubling you," he said gently. "Tell me what it is!"

But she shrank back nervously into the bed.

"You see--I--"

"Well?" He felt the fluttering pulse again. "Tell me, little one."

"Was I--" Pause; then, with a burst, "Was I 'lirious last night?"

"Now, now, you mustn't get nervous--"

Her face stopped him. He rubbed his chin and studied her perplexedly. He was trying to discover what it was that she wanted.

"Was I?" She sat up, clung to the bed knob with one hand. "I--I _thought_ I was!"

The expressive voice held a note of despairing doubt in the last words that helped him.

"Well, you were very feverish and," he was feeling his way, "you certainly didn't quite know what you were saying--um! Yes, you _were_ delirious!" he finished with sudden heartiness. There was no doubting now what it was she wanted. At his words she sank down on to the pillow with a sort of little croon of relief.

"When a person's 'lirious she might say--say _very_ foolish things--she might--_ask_ for things--she'd be 'shamed to if she _knew_--"

He was sure of his way now. He pulled his chair closer, and his clever face softened.

"I should think so, indeed. Why, now, there was a young lady I was attending,--she was quite grown-up, too,--and when she is well she's a very sensible sort of girl, but she was delirious, and what do you think she kept crying out for? Why, an elephant--a real, live elephant!"

Sheila Pat laughed.

He took her hand into his.

"Oh, yes, people say and do very queer things when they are delirious. I had a big boy once who wanted a doll, and another who wanted to start for Australia." He paused as he felt the hand in his give a little jerk.

"Do persons--often want to--to go somewhere when they're 'lirious?"

"Very often. It's one of the commonest wants, little one."

Sheila Pat was smiling; she lay looking up at him, her face pale, tired, but very peaceful.

"You're going to be a good little girl, and keep very quiet, and take all your medicine--"

"I--I'm just goin' to be as good as--as snow-drops."

"Why snowdrops?"

She drew her brows together in thought. "I don't know: snowdrops are just good through and through."

He smiled.

"I do think you're such a nice doctor," Sheila Pat said earnestly.

When Nell crept in a few minutes later, she was fast asleep. When she woke, she took her medicine without a murmur.

"Is Denis home, Nell?"

"I think he's just come in. Yes, here he is."

He entered with a beautiful bunch of parma violets.

"With Lancaster's compliments. Aren't you proud, Atom?"

"They are very beautiful," but her eye was absent.

Nell took them and buried her nose in them.

"Denis, Dr. Everton says I was 'lirious last night."

"Poor old Atom."

"And--and he says when a person's 'lirious, they want elephants and Australia and--and to go to places--"

There was a pause.

The Atom turned her face a little away on the pillow.

"I remember--some--I--I didn't know what I was sayin', Denis--I--I wouldn't--have--said--it if--"

"Of course you wouldn't. We know that. But what I said holds good, Atom. If you want me to take you home for a few days, I will!"

There was silence in the room. Sheila Pat had turned her face to the pillow and buried it deep. Nell stood, the violets pressed against her cheek, waiting.

"No--thank you." It came with a little catch between the two first words, but firm, decided.

Denis bent his head suddenly, and whispered in her ear. She turned, stretched up her arms, and held him tight. Tears were running quietly down her face and dropping on to her nightgown, but Nell caught an ecstatically proud note in the whispered query, "Do you--really-_truly_--think I'm all that?"

When he had gone, she turned to Nell.

"Am I very heavy, Nell?"

Nell felt suddenly what a bit of a baby Sheila Pat was: she stroked her cheek gently.

"You weigh about as much as a good-sized robin. Why?"

"I do feel," wistfully, "I'd like to sit on your lap a little while!"

"Oh, petsums, come along."

She fell asleep almost directly.

That evening, wrapped in blankets, sitting in a large arm-chair, the Atom received three visitors.

Stewart came first. He was very subdued, shy of this white-faced Atom in the blankets.

He sat down and stared at her.

"You're to intertain me," she told him peremptorily.

Stewart, just about to speak, at this awful mandate flushed and collapsed.

Sheila Pat watched him relentlessly.

"Sure you English _are_ queer! Mum! Mum! Mum!"

"Do you feel better?" he burst out.

"You know I do, else I wouldn't be receivin' visitors."

Silence.

"You're not intertainin' me," warned the Atom.

"I don't know how! I've never done it!"

"I think you're a very silly little boy, and you're not intertainin' me at all! You'd better go, I think."

He got as far as the door.

"Tommy, come back!"

He stood and faced her, his thin little body stretched to its utmost limit.

"I'm not a _little_ boy!"

"Tommy, how's Peter?"

He came back eagerly.

"I say, what d'you think he swallowed yesterday?"

Ted Lancaster came next.

"Mayn't I pull your pig-tail?" he asked gently.

"'Tisn't any manners you English have got at all!" Sheila Pat retorted.

"Ah, that's all right. 'Pon my word, when I came in you looked so good, I was afraid I'd never be allowed to be rude to you again. May I hide that medicine bottle? I do hate medicine bottles. They carry me back to a sick room of my own."

She asked interestedly, "Were you 'lirious?"

"Rather!"

She sat forward, her face alight with eagerness

"Did you want a elephant and to go to Australia?"

"I don't know about the elephant. But I know I wanted to go to Australia, or anywhere else, so long as medicine bottles and beef-tea and thermometers didn't grow there."

She hesitated, her eyes never leaving his face.

"But--but did you--did you say things--"

He smiled.

"Yes, I said things, Sheila Pat!"

"Awful things? Things you'd never, _never_ say when you were well?"

"I hope I shouldn't!"

A tired little frown creased her forehead.

"Did you--did you _ask_ for things?"

"Oh, yes, heaps of 'em! I nearly wept because they wouldn't give me my organ into bed with me. And foot-balls--I was always begging for foot-balls. And one night I insisted on its being imperative that I should start off for Paris--"

Eagerly she interrupted, "Did you worry and _worry_?"

"They had to hold me down."

She lay back in the pillows; she gave a little excited laugh.

"Aren't persons _queer_ when they're 'lirious?"

"Sheila Pat, catch hold!"

He tilted a brown-paper parcel into her lap.

"It's a book about horses, and there're plenty of photographs in it, so will you forgive its not being Irish? And remember that I hate being thanked, Sheila Pat. If you thank me for it, I'll kiss you. So now you know."

She was turning the pages with trembling fingers. He watched the expressive face as she bent over the beautiful photographs.

"Nell," Denis poked his head round the door, "may that conceited Atom receive another visitor? Mr. Yovil wants to see her."

"Yes, with great pleasure!" shrilled out Sheila Pat, excitedly.

She turned to Ted; she lifted up her face.

"I love it! I _love_ it!"

"You're thanking me!"

He bent and kissed her.

"I'm jealous," Mark Yovil said sadly, as he entered the room. "He isn't half so nice as I am, Sheila Pat! You ask my mother. She's down in Devonshire, but we could send her a wire. And you've never been his Social Prompter, have you? Please send him away, Sheila Pat!"

"I will, anyway," Nell laughed.

Mark Yovil only stayed a few minutes. He looked at the Atom's excited face, her bright eyes, and talked quietly to Nell. Then he went.

For a quarter of an hour Sheila Pat studied her precious book.

Then Sarah appeared with a petition from Herr Schmidt for just a "beep at the little Miss Sheila."

He came in, laboriously tiptoeing, beaming.

"Ze poor little invalid! You are better, hein?"

Sheila Pat was very tired.

"I'm quite well, thank you," she responded, her manner exceedingly grown-up.

"There's only one thing about her that troubles us, Herr Schmidt," laughed Nell. "She's so good! She takes her medicine without a grimace! She's so meek and good I'm quite uneasy."

Sheila Pat fidgeted restlessly. She explained earnestly. "I'm not _really_ good! I'm doin' it for--for a reason of my own."

Herr Schmidt seemed to think that exquisitely funny. He chuckled like a great fat baby.

"Ze funny little child!" he chuckled, "ze very funny little child."

He took off his spectacles, rubbed them with a gigantic handkerchief, and said, "Ach, I forget!" He fumbled in his coat-tail pocket; he dragged forth a limp and very much sat upon brown-paper parcel. He eyed it proudly.

"Ach, zat is why I zink her so nice for a bed! See, I sit on her, but it does not matter!"

"Great Scott!" ejaculated Denis in Nell's ear.

Herr Schmidt handed the parcel to Sheila Pat. He stood watching, beaming at her over his spectacles. Sheila Pat pulled off the paper; she gave a little gasp. There was a tense silence.

The present was a baby doll--a rag baby doll.

Nell quavered desperately, "What a fine colour it has!" And she averted her eyes hastily from the horrible, crimson-dabbed cheeks.

"You like her, little one?" Herr Schmidt's tone was anxious.

"Thank you," said Sheila Pat, in a subdued little voice. She stared fixedly into the fire, her head averted from the Thing in her lap.

"Ach, I zink berhaps she does not like it?" Herr Schmidt whispered loudly to Nell. "And I zink it so sweet!"

"She is tired. She has had too many visitors. It was so awfully kind of you to bring it for her, Herr Schmidt. I want her to go to sleep now."

Sweetly Nell sped his departure. When he had gone, Sheila Pat, still with averted head, dropped her knee till the doll slid to the floor. She looked up at Nell, outraged dignity in every feature.

"Please take the--carrion thing--away!"

And to Kate Kearney she presently whispered:--

"Oh, K.K., he's never forgotten! He thinks I'm a baby! And it's all that petticoat! I knew it!"

*CHAPTER XXXI*

These came a morning when Miss Kezia breakfasted in angry state, alone. At eight o'clock she sat down, as usual, to the table. With down-drawn lip she filled the five cups with coffee, then started on her porridge. Every now and then her eye glanced at the four bowls of porridge with their rapidly lessening issue of steam. From overhead there came, at intervals, the banging of a door, the rush of footsteps from one room to another, a burst of laughter now and then. Miss Kezia went on with her breakfast. Once Sarah knocked timidly, and, with a scared face, dared the whispered suggestion that she should take the porridge "to keep it hot." Her courage failed before ever Miss Kezia's grim lips had begun to frame an answer, and she fled back to the refuge of the kitchen.

From above came Denis's voice, jubilant, a musical shout of joy.

"'Miss Judy O'Connor, she lived forninst me
And tinder words to her I wrote--'

"I say, Nell, did I leave my towels in your room?"

Down came Miss Kezia's upper lip.

From above:--

"A stud is an animate article, possessing the human attributes of legs and devilment--got him, by Jove! Now thin ye young devil, is it hidin' from me, indeed! I'll be teachin' ye a lesson--"

"Denis, _have_ you seen my hair-ribbon?"

"Oh," this was Nell's voice, "I wish I had a tail like a kitten, to run round and round after!"

Miss Kezia's expression grew painfully long-suffering.

"If you were havin' a tail in this London, there wouldn't be room to run round after it!" Scorn vibrated in this voice.

A pause.

Thud--thud--patter-- Then, with a startling suddenness, a wild Irish whoop.

Miss Kezia jumped badly, and the angry, shamed colour flooded her cheeks. She rose--a quick succession of whoops sounded nearer and nearer--she went out into the hall. Denis was coming downstairs, two at a time, and performing an Irish jig at the same moment. The others were behind him.

"May I request that you cease making those horrible noises? I do not want the police here, thinking murder is being committed."

Unfortunately this struck their perverse minds as being intensely funny.

Miss Kezia went back to the dining room, and they followed her to cold coffee and congealed porridge. But coffee as cold as the ice round the North pole, and porridge as congealed as lead, were powerless, as Miss Kezia's disapproval was powerless, to quench the hilarity in the atmosphere that morning.

"May I inquire why you have chosen to be three-quarters of an hour late this morning?"

Heads were lifted from bowls of congealed porridge; laughter rippled round the table.

"'Twasn't we chose--it was the letters," Nell said, and her voice was almost a song, so gay was the lilt of it.

Denis said blandly, "Put the blame on the postman, and the cap will fit him like a glove."

Nell volunteered sweetly:--

"They're letters from Melbourne, Aunt Kezia! Mother is quite well and strong--quite brown and well and strong!"

"I am glad to hear it, but surely you could have read them after breakfast."

The gaiety was quenched momentarily by the sheer force of the surprise that invaded them. Silence reigned, while their thoughts worked rapidly over the waiting of the last months--the impatient suspense of the last days, as the time drew near the date on which they had calculated they could get their first Australian mail. Nell eyed Miss Kezia with a hint of soberness in her face.

Tucking Denis into his coat a little later, she said, "I pity her."

"Who? Our austere relative?"

She nodded; then tapped her brow and her left side suggestively.

"There must be something wanting somewhere."

"A good deal," laughed he, amused.

On the door-step he paused, turned, and made a comical grimace.

"Figures on a day like this! Don't start pitying me, too, or I'll never go!"

He was out of the gate.

At lunch time he observed to Nell:--

"Suppose I get the sack?"

"I could almost wish it, twin."

He laughed.

"Never did man be burdened with such a degenerate twin! Well, old Tellbridge wants to speak to me this afternoon! In the manager's room, Nell!"

"A rise!" she ejaculated.

"Or a fall! I was showing the chaps how to play handball. We'd cleared the room a bit. Tellbridge came in. Lord, he did swell! I thought it was a good thing we'd cleared the room. He asked a few questions--with bland edges to them--and he wants to see me at half-past two in his room."

"Oh, Denis, suppose--"

"A wrinkled brow to-day, Nell!" he laughed. "I refuse to suppose," he observed gaily. "Even in my very innermost recesses, I don't suppose. I'm horribly hungry. Let's see, there's no mutton from yesterday to be eaten up, is there?"

She flung her arms wide.

"My innermost recesses are not supposing now!"

When he came back that afternoon he brought Ted Lancaster, and both were laden with parcels.

"Celebration parcels, Nell!"

Ted said, "I say," and wrung her hand hard.

"Denis! Well?"

"What? Oh, my interview with old Pom-Pom. My dear, I made a plain statement of the facts of the case, and he actually smiled! Here endeth the--er--_third_ interview!"

Molly came in and poked about amongst the parcels.

"I do wish Aunt Kezia were going out to-night."

Denis pretended to feel faint.

"_You_, Molly? You, the patent softener of a relative's hard heart?"

Molly blushed and glanced abashed at Ted's amused face.

"Well, for her own sake, anyway," she protested, and dropped her eyes with a giggle over her hypocrisy.

"Ted," Nell said, "here's a penny."

"Thanks awfully."

He took it and dropped it into his pocket.

"It may come in useful some day. One never knows."

"Well?" she said.

"Well what?"

"You don't think I'd give you a penny for nothing! It's for your thoughts."

He gave her a quick little glance.

"Oh, my thoughts! And I hoped it was pure disinterested benevolence!"

"Tell me your thoughts! I'm sure you were thinking of something nice for us--"

He interrupted flurriedly.

"Something nice? I--I-- What made you think that? I wasn't! I really--"

"You looked sort of kind," she said, laughing.

"Well, I wasn't!"

"Give me back my penny!" He handed it back with an absent-minded air.