They did not tell her it was good of her to come to see them, but they
told her in all the languages of courtesy that they were mighty glad
she had come. She was taken into the drawing-room--full of soft chairs
and sofas that anybody might sit on, and with a fire of clear coals in
a grate that glittered with constant polishing. But everything in
Peter's establishment seemed to shine with pure cleanliness; he took
after his mother, who, modest in other things, was fond of offering a
sovereign to anybody who would find a cobweb in her house.

Deb was peeled of her furs by Peter, with the greatest deference and
politeness, but with none of the obsequiousness that had sickened her
elsewhere; he laid down her sable cloak with the reverence of one who
knew its value, and he asked Rose in a whisper if her sister would like
a glass of wine before lunch. The smiling matron shook her head, and
whispered something else, which sent him out of the room. Then, while
he skipped about in the background, attending to the wines and beers,
she convoyed the guest to the very luxurious bedroom where
head-nurse Keziah dandled the youngest of the Breen children. The rest
had had their dinners and gone out a-walking, so as not to be made too
much of by a silly mother, if it could be helped. Warm was the greeting
between Keziah and her late mistress, and many the questions about
Redford and the old folks; but there was no hint that Mrs Moon hankered
after the big store-rooms and linen-closets, the dignities and
privileges of her former home. Her heart was with Rose's babies now.

"There, what do you think of THIS?" she demanded, as she proudly
displayed her charge, and, being invited thereto, condescendingly laid
it in Deb's outstretched arms.