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“
When
you
were
only
a
boy
,
did
people
call
you
Freckles
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Dozens
of
good
fellows
all
over
Ireland
and
the
Continent
are
doing
it
today
,
”
answered
Lord
O
’
More
.
The
Angel
’
s
face
wore
her
most
beautiful
smile
.
“
I
was
sure
of
it
,
”
she
said
winningly
.
“
That
’
s
what
we
call
him
,
and
he
is
so
like
you
,
I
doubt
if
any
one
of
those
three
boys
of
yours
are
more
so
.
But
it
’
s
been
twenty
years
.
Seems
to
me
you
’
ve
been
a
long
time
coming
!
”
Lord
O
’
More
caught
the
Angel
’
s
wrists
and
his
wife
slipped
her
arms
around
her
.
“
Steady
,
my
girl
!
”
said
the
man
’
s
voice
hoarsely
.
“
Don
’
t
make
me
think
you
’
ve
brought
word
of
the
boy
at
this
last
hour
,
unless
you
know
surely
.
”
“
It
’
s
all
right
,
”
said
the
Angel
.
“
We
have
him
,
and
there
’
s
no
chance
of
a
mistake
.
If
I
hadn
’
t
gone
to
that
Home
for
his
little
clothes
,
and
heard
of
you
and
been
hunting
you
,
and
had
met
you
on
the
street
,
or
anywhere
,
I
would
have
stopped
you
and
asked
you
who
you
were
,
just
because
you
are
so
like
him
.
It
’
s
all
right
.
I
can
tell
you
where
Freckles
is
;
but
whether
you
deserve
to
know
—
that
’
s
another
matter
!
”
Lord
O
’
More
did
not
hear
her
.
He
dropped
in
his
chair
,
and
covering
his
face
,
burst
into
those
terrible
sobs
that
shake
and
rend
a
strong
man
.
Lady
O
’
More
hovered
over
him
,
weeping
.
“
Umph
!
Looks
pretty
fair
for
Freckles
,
”
muttered
the
Angel
.
“
Lots
of
things
can
be
explained
;
now
perhaps
they
can
explain
this
”
