There was much drinking and dancing and telling of stories. When the fiddler tired of playing, Rose’s father and old McMullen would recount ancient legends of Irish heroes and drink to their old homeland. Rose was heavy with her unborn child and had to sit out the dancing, but she enjoyed the gathering of family and friends. She was pleased that Danny would now be living at Simonside and helping with the running of the smallholding, for her father suffered from rheumatism and was increasingly frail. Maggie had found it difficult to manage these past two years. ‘Why aren’t you dancing?’ Rose teased William. ‘I only like dancing with you,’ he smiled, and sat down beside her. He looked tired, his eyes shadowed. ‘It’s time we took the bairns home,’ Rose decided. ‘It’s been a long day for us all. This lot’ll not go home till the beer runs out.’ Maybe it was due to the exertions of the day and the long walk home, but Rose went into labour that night.
