Nell, carrying Jim O'Driscoll upstairs beneath her pinafore, nearly fell down at the sudden loud rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat that echoed through the house.
Sarah came running to open the door. They peeped over the balusters; Ted dashed in, up the stairs, and into them.
"You seem to be in a hurry," Denis suggested.
"Er—no—"
He stood silent.
"Police after you, old man? We'll hide you. Get into Jim's cage, and they won't know the difference!"
Nell was looking at Ted.
She said quietly, "What is it, Ted?"
"Oh—coming out? Nice day—"
A snort came from the direction of the Atom's bedroom:
"Only fog so thick that a person can't see an inch in front of her! And whichever way you look, you see nothing but mud and mud! But sure 'tis a nice day for London!"
Nell's eyes had met Ted's; she understood.
"Molly, go and put on your things. I'll get ready in a minute."
She led the way into the Stronghold. She turned and faced him.
"What is it?"
But he had grown suddenly uncomfortable.
"I hope you won't think—er—that I've been meddling," he said, with the slight drawl Nell understood so well now.
"Never!" she said. "Go on."
"Well, you might. O.B. told me about those Rêve d'or shares—" He paused.
Denis nodded.
Nell put her hand out suddenly, and rested it heavily on the table.
"What about them?" she said.
Ted spoke quickly, giving the heart of what he had to say.
"The governor says—'Hold on—don't sell.'"
There was a little pause. Nell's face had gone quite white.
"He—means?" she said.
Ted glanced at her, and away again.
"It may mean nothing—of course, you can't always tell—"
"No, no! We know that," Denis broke in impatiently. "What made your father say it?"
"He's out there, you know—South Africa. He's got no end of a head. And he's a shareholder. I asked him about them in a letter some time ago. He wrote last week saying he believed they weren't as bad as he'd thought, but he couldn't be sure yet—"
"That was the night our Australian letters had come," Nell said.
He nodded.
"Just now I got a cablegram—saying, 'Hold on, don't sell.'"
He paused.
"He may be making a mistake," he said slowly. "The shares may not go up—don't reckon on it—" He stopped.
"We—we can't help it, Ted," Nell said shakily.
"No."
He walked over to the window and looked out. There was a little silence. Then suddenly she laughed out, an excited, wild little laugh.
"Oh, I know it's true! I know it is! We shall go home—Denis, don't you feel it? Ted, it's all you—all you, Teddie! You'll come with us. You'll climb the hills with us—you'll love our home—" Her voice broke.
Ted grew very red; he turned his back on her, and spoke, in a tone of elaborate unconcern, to Denis.
"Thought you might come round to Bumpus's, old man, with me, about that book—"
"Oh, hang Bumpus! Hang the book!" Denis interpolated.
Nell's charming face, laughing, was poked suddenly close to Ted's.
"I'm not going to cry, Teddie! D'you think I'd repay you like that? And I won't even try to thank you—"
"Nothing to thank me for," he interposed.
"Oh, no, it's nothing to hear that we're going back to Kilbrannan soon," observed Denis.
"Don't be such a fool, O.B.!" Ted turned on him angrily. "You're not a baby! I tell you, those shares may never pay another dividend!"
"Oh, Teddie!"
The woeful change in her face made him add weakly:—
"But I've never known the Pater to make a mistake over that sort of thing—"
"Oh, Teddie!"
She was radiant again. She started talking; her voice was breathless, almost a song of joy.
Ted said heavily, "It's an awful responsibility."
She stopped in the middle of a laugh.
"Anyway—in any case—" she said, "you—oh, how good you are, Ted!"
"Good Heavens!" he ejaculated. "Why don't you put me up on a pedestal and worship me?"
He spoke with strong irritation.
"Oh, how rude you are! You English are queer! Denis can do with any amount of gratitude."
"Well, I'm not Denis," he grumped. "Your father's not likely to sell out, is he?"
"No, no one'd buy the shares, you know," Denis replied confidently.
But Ted had inherited somewhat of his father's business faculty.
"Don't be an ass, O.B.!" he ejaculated. "Some chap might scent that they're likely to go up, and offer to buy them of your governor."
"Oh, Denis, and dad would sell them for nothing!" Nell cried. "Oh, what shall we do? He'd never suspect—he thinks they're worth nothing. Ted, tell us what to do!"
"We must cable to him," Denis put in. "Where's my hat? I'm off!"
"Oh, do wait for me. Do let me come, too!"
She fled into her bedroom. She dragged out a coat. Sheila Pat was folding up her nightgown.
"Are you goin' out?" she demanded.
"Yes. Find me a hat, there's a sweet."
Sheila Pat crawled under the bed, and dived into a hatbox.
"Where are you goin'? I'll come, too."
Nell dissembled badly.
"Oh, we—we're only going just out—for a little while. Give me a hat, Atom."
Sheila Pat handed it to her in silence; she studied Nell's superlatively guilty face with calm disapproval.
"Why don't you own up that you're doin' somethin' secret?" she queried disdainfully.
"Oh, don't be silly, Atom! Oh, why won't my hat go on?"
"I'm comin' too," Sheila Pat said, and she smiled a little triumphant smile.
"Oh!" said Nell.
Sheila Pat went to the wardrobe, and lifted down her coat. Nell kicked one of her boots beneath the chest of drawers.
"I can see what you're doin'," said Sheila Pat, calmly.
Nell began to laugh.
"You can come if you're ready to start when we are, but we won't wait," she said, and ran out of the room.
A cold little voice pursued her.
"I was only pertendin'; I never intrude where I'm not wanted."
Nell hardened her heart. She burst into the Stronghold.
"Do come! Oh, every moment's precious!"
As they went downstairs Denis said, "Lancaster's been pointing out that of course we may be advising the Pater quite wrong—"
"How, Denis? Oh, how?" She wrinkled her brows anxiously.
"The shares mayn't go up, you see."
"Oh, that!" she cried relieved. "Yes, I know."
"But, by telling him to hold on, we should stop his selling if he got a chance and if they don't go up—oh, you see, don't you?"
She nodded.
They let themselves out into the street in silence.
"I wanted you to understand," Denis said.
"Yes."
She looked down abstractedly at her thin house-slippers, which she had forgotten to change.
"I want to send the cablegram," she said. "I want to take the risk."
"That's all right. So do I."
"It's four and tenpence a word to Melbourne," observed Ted, prosaically. "What shall you say?"
"'Hold on to Rêve d'or shares,' I think," Denis said.
"'Don't sell' would be a word less," Nell suggested. "'Do not,'" Ted amended. "You mustn't put 'don't' in a telegram."
'"Hold on to' is more emphatic," Denis opined.
On the way back Nell said hesitatingly:—
"Denis, do you think it'll frighten them dreadfully to get a cablegram from us?"
"Only for a second, and it can't be helped, worse luck!"
"We won't tell Molly or the Atom, will we?"
"No. We'll wait. It would drive the Atom mad to wait."
"Yes." She looked as if she thought it might drive her mad, too.
When she and Denis were alone in the Stronghold that night, she observed elatedly, and with considerable confidence, "And we'll be able to manage so beautifully, because we've had such practice in economising lately."
He nodded.
"We'll live on potatoes, old girl! I must say I prefer to economise on praties rather than on porridge."
"I've been thinking it all out. We'll have to be very careful, of course, but what does it matter—what does it matter? I'll sweep and clean and groom the horses! I'll have one dress a year—oh, Denis! Denis! I'm all in a wuzzle. I'm so happy that—"
"Let's go out! Come along. I shall burst if I don't."
"We'll find a quiet square and run!" she cried.
It was ten o'clock. At eleven o'clock they remembered that they would be locked out. They returned and threw small stones at Herr Schmidt's window. He let them in.
"Ach," he exclaimed, looking at Nell, "you make my dry heart glad!"