rd Carrickmines's

ything that happened at Lord Carrickmines', and that can't have bee

they were, Miss Mabel and Miss Alice-would have scorned to sit on the kitchen table swingin' their feet an' givin'

lks. Besides, I only advised you for your good. You're going the wrong way entirely abo

! The more nails I drives in it the more it splits, till the cracks in it is like the spokes of a wheel. I believe 'tis you s

on his trunk, as Mick used to do? I

eleetia leftenant, though Mr. St. Leger was a real nice young gentleman, when not led

table, "I'll go and pick currants in the garden. You were saying

this weary cleanin' done, an' you'll help me with th

on condition you give

as it went out in the sunlight, followed by a very

oung gentleman in the house as long as you'd Miss Sylvy. Miss Pamela's real pleasant, too, but give me Miss Sylvy, for all she's more like a boy nor a girl. But ther

s Mrs. Murphy, a stout village matron, who had been brought in to assis

ike her suds, of which she ca

know what the gentry wants wid all the clanin' at all. 'Tis meself wouldn't like ould buckets o' suds rowled round the

tin' out my hand. Sit down for a minute, ma'am, an' have a noggin o' buttermilk to cool ye. There's time enough to

imes, Miss Flanagan," Mrs. Murphy

r end, and yet water about their rooms is somethin' they can't endure. When I was at Lord Carrickmines's, the housekeeper put me, as it might be you, ma'am, to pelt an ould bucket o' wate

though. He won't be for murdher

l the time," said Bridget philosophi

's comfort all out o' the windy. I suppose 'tis

said Bridget loftily. "He'

n gould, I

was never curious enou

laring snub, Mrs. Mu

match for wan o'

idget, as if she had thoug

m wid beauty. I wouldn't ask a greater b

on Sunday, wid the feathery hat she made herself, poor lamb. The little face of her, and the big shiny eyes,

ntleman'll think

e, for if he was to come makin' love to Miss Sylv

, it'll be

s the face of an angel. The master calls her 'Boy.' 'I was lookin' for a boy,' says he, 'an' 'twas

you if it was your work you was gettin' about, an' not sittin' here idlin' all day. Stir you

h a justly aggrieved air. "Here I wouldn't b

like clanin' time

way over the bleached country and the summer-dark coppices. It was a square house, kindly of aspect, despite its ruinous cond

place it was to dream away a summer day, with no sound to break the stil

, flitting here and there through the raspberry canes and

tony at her heels, helpin' himself to the raspberries, I'll be bound. An' she, pretty lamb! 'tis more

e eldest of the three girls, was sitting, puckering her

ouble about, Miss M

ndow at all, Bridget dear," said the sweetest, most pl

l, child? 'Tisn't your p

where they were, and we can't afford curtains, and I'

anted them worse. Give me the scissors, jewel, an' I'll just cut them out for you. I once got a prize in Major Healy's lady's sewin'

, you know. Oh! thank you, that is clev

of a woman; 'tis no wonder Tim an' the childher are the shows of the place. I was hard put to it to

're surely not inva

e, unless she's found someone more ready to listen to her thin I was. Ther

t. I wish you'd teach me

yson of a little inconvaynience that rale blood-ladies like your

ch seemed irradiated with a quiet inward light,

you know, Bridget, for

u marry Mr. St. L

g, but a sudden rush of happy c

lord'll come round before that. Sure he couldn

tle son of his own now, you see, and s

ted her eye

of some people. But 'tis time for me to be gettin' about my work, or I'll be as bad as that Murphy woman. Just you call to me, Miss

ing. The windows, brown-paper panes and all, were flung wide open, and there was a lovely prospect of plain and hill, and wood and river, stretching away into the

e mass of the jungle, where the jackals cried by night and the lions roared thunderously. Somewhere in that baking place she saw the face she loved-the plain, honest, devoted face of Mick St. Leger, who h

d her eyes in a quiet way which had become natural to her when she was alone. She could not know what was happening to her dear boy under th

tones, and the sound of someone

mash, and three of the new tumblers, and the youth's shaving-glass. And what do you think, darling? The youth's coming to-day-this afterno

d her hand

m off for the stables to see if Frisky must have a shoe. So he hasn't discovered yet the terrible havoc among his household gods. Maybe, if we can get things to

e we to

'd be no time to put it in. Besides, I'm of Bridget's opinion, tha

dinner,

about with his hoarse crow, since he killed my dear bantam.

ugh? Besides, how a

site the hall-door, where he and his wives have taken to roosting; and a nice thing they've made of the rose-bush. He's so old, poor dear! tha

de down; and Sir Anthony com

ay trust Frisky, if Frisky gets a chance, though in the ordinary course of things they'd arrive

papa must k

on, of course, he'll find out that Lettergort Station is only round the corner,

e tired after h

to catch the red cock; that is, if we do

see what Mrs. Murphy is doing in the poor dear's study. He has always been so happy

e way I headed him off when he came in. I'll lock Mrs. Murphy i

that, Pam,

rbed. You'll see he never suspects anything, even when I ask him at lunch where I s

ation she asked. Though, as she said afterwards, it was a shame to keep him in the dar

d her hand