Lady O'Hara found that her big, indolent husband was unusually silent next morning at breakfast. She had not been married long enough to consent to being practically ignored, no matter what the time of day, but she had been married quite long enough to know that before she took any direct action against him, she must first allow him to assuage his appetite. Accordingly she plied him with coffee and eggs, and with a satisfied and slightly motherly air, watched him attack a sirloin of beef. She was a pretty, birdlike little lady, with big eyes, and soft brown curls escaping from under a demure but very becoming mob cap. She measured five foot nothing in her stockings, and was sometimes referred to by her large husband as the Midget. Needless to say, this flippant appellation was in no wise encouraged by the lady.
She decided that Miles had come to the end of his repast, and, planting two dimpled elbows on the table, she rested her small chin in her hands and looked across at him with something of the air of an inquisitive kitten.
"Miles!"
O'Hara leaned back in his chair, and at the sight of her fresh prettiness his brow cleared and he smiled.
"Well, asthore?"
A reproachful finger was raised and a pair of red lips pouted adorably.
"Now, Miles, confess you've been vastly disagreeable this morning. Twice have I spoken to you and you've not troubled to answer me-nay, let me finish! And once you growled at me like a nasty bear! Yes, sir, you did!"
"Did I now, Molly? 'Tis a surly brute you're after thinking me, then? Troth, and I've been sore perplexed, me dear."
Lady O'Hara got up and sidled round to him.
"Have you so, Miles?"
He flung an arm about her and drew her on to his knee.
"Sure, yes, Molly."
"Well then, Miles, had you not better tell me what it is that troubles you?" she coaxed, laying a persuasive hand on his shoulder.
He smiled up at her.
"'Tis just an inquisitive puss you are!"
Again the pout.
"And ye should not pout your pretty lips at me if ye are not wanting me to kiss them!" he added, suiting the action to the word.
"But of course I do!" cried my lady, returning the kiss with fervour. "Nay, Miles, tell me."
"I see ye mean to have the whole tale out of me, so-"
"To be sure I do!" she nodded.
He laid a warning finger on her lips and summoned up a mighty frown.
"Now will ye be done interrupting, me lady?"
Not a whit abashed, she bit the finger, pushed it away, and folding her hands in her lap, cast her eyes meekly heavenwards.