of those in every letter he sends me! 'Tis money that is! Can you make
out the figures on it, now?"

Larry and Eileen looked it over carefully. "There it is, hiding in the
corner," said Larry. He pointed to a "5" on the green paper.

"Five pounds it is!" said Grannie Malone. "Sure it's a fortune! Oh,
it's himself is the good son to me! What does the letter say?"

The Twins spread the sheet open and studied it, while Grannie hovered
over them, trembling with excitement.

"Sure, that's _Dear_, isn't it?" said Eileen, pointing to the first
word.

"Sure," said Larry; "letters always begin like that."

"Dear G-r-a-n-n-i-e," spelt Eileen. "What could that be but Grannie?"

"'Tis from my grandson, young Patrick, then," cried Grannie. "Indeed,
he's but the age of yourselves! How old are you at all?"

"We're seven," said the Twins.

"Patrick might be eight," said his Grandmother, "but surely the clever
children like yourselves and the two of you together should be able to
make it out. There's but one of Patrick, and there should be more
learning between the two of you than in one alone, even though he is a
bit older! Try now."

Larry and Eileen tried. This was the letter. It was written in a large
staggery hand.

"Will you listen to that now!" cried Grannie Malone. "Is it taking me
back to America, he'd be! 'Tis a terrible journey altogether, and a
strange country at the end of it, for me to be laying my old bones in!
But I'd be a proud woman to see my own son, in any country of the world,
and he an alderman!"

There was a letter from Michael himself in the envelope also, but the
Twins could not read that, however much they tried.

So Grannie was obliged to put the two letters and the green paper under
the clock over the fireplace, to wait until the Priest should pass that
way.

CHAPTER TWO.

THE TEA-PARTY.

"Sure, this is a fine day for me, altogether," said Grannie Malone as
she got out her bit of flour to make the cake. "I can wait for the
letter from himself, the way I know they're in health, and have not
forgotten their old Mother. Troth, we'll have a bit of a feast over it
now," she said to the Twins. "While I'm throwing the cakeen together do
you get some potatoes from the bag, Eileen, and put them down in the
ashes, and you, Larry, stir up the fire a bit, and keep the kettle full.
Sure, 'tis singing away like a bird this instant minute! Put some
water in it, avic, and then s