"But it's a mighty big thing to your credit that she THINKS she could.

I guess I'll tell you why I came." She laid down the paper, and touched the portrait.
"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.