"I wish I could meet "Cousin Felicity" again," she often said to herself. "She was so wise. I am sure she would advise me how to keep cheerful and content. And yet she must have understood, for I remember her asking me if I loved my home very dearly."
The weeks and months and almost the years--for one had fully gone, and the second since Clodagh"s arrival on this side of the water was well on its way--pa.s.sed, and then one day came little looked-for tidings.
The cousins were just then again at St. Aidan"s, which Paulina, who had great faith in its waters, made a point of visiting once or twice a year. One morning, when Clodagh came in from doing some little commissions on the Parade, she found her friend, pale as death, half fainting in her chair, an open letter in stiff, formal writing on her knee.
"Clodagh, oh Clodagh," she exclaimed, "read, read. Who could have dreamt of it?"
And truly her distress was not to be wondered at, for the news was appalling, being nothing less but that of the poor young woman"s almost total ruin by the failure of a bank. Clodagh for a moment felt stunned, but she soon collected herself and did her best to comfort her cousin.
"Take courage, dear Paulina," she said. "There is no need for despair.
You have still enough for comfort of a simple kind, and I will work for you. It will be my turn to repay your generosity."
"Dear child," murmured her poor cousin, all her high spirit broken, "you have already far more than repaid anything I have done for you. But don"t leave me, promise me. If we must starve, let it be together."
"We shall not starve," said Clodagh cheerfully. "If--oh, Paulina, I wonder if you could make up your mind to live at Grey Rocks. My old nurse would take us in. She has a little farm and a nice clean house.
Granny gave it to her and furnished it. We could live there on almost nothing, and every one would know who we were and be good to us." Her eyes actually sparkled at the prospect.
And after a little Paulina caught some of the younger girl"s spirit.
"Yes," she said, "it is the best thing we can do. I have none but happy remembrances of the old place."
So Clodagh wrote to the friend of her grandmother who had been her guardian, asking him to see her nurse and arrange it. Writing direct would have been useless, as the simple woman had never learnt to read.
And as quickly as the slow mails of those days could bring it, came Mr.
Fitzgerald"s reply. More than a reply indeed, for he began the letter by saying that he had pen in hand to write to her when her request reached him, for he had an extraordinary communication to make.
"Grey Rocks, my dear Clodagh," he wrote, "is yours, your own property.
It has again been for sale, as the late purchaser inherited unexpectedly a large property and did not care to retain the smaller one, and on the very day before I heard from you, a certain firm of lawyers, well known to me and entirely trustworthy, sent over a confidential clerk to arrange for the purchase for yourself--Miss Clodagh O"Beirne--of the entire little property, as a gift, an absolute gift from an unknown friend, on one condition only, that you will never seek to discover the giver. I rejoiced inexpressibly, but my rejoicing is doubled and trebled since the receipt of your distressing news this morning. Surely never was a kind deed more appropriate. All is already in train, and whenever it suits you to return, you, accompanied I hope by Miss Paulina O"Beirne, will be welcomed with heartfelt joy by us all."
Clodagh"s delight may be imagined, and to Paulina also the news was an immense relief.
"Who can be the unknown friend?" she exclaimed, adding, however, "But as you must never try to find out, perhaps it is better not to speak of it."
"Much better," said Clodagh, and they never did.
And a happy home old Grey Rocks proved. It was but seldom they cared to leave it. But when they did "want to wander," and with good management their joint means were enough to enable them to do so now and then, you may be sure that their only luggage was the two well-tested trunks, whose marvellous properties never failed. Clodagh, of course, in her heart had her own secret belief as to the ident.i.ty of her benefactor or benefactress, but the mysterious "fairy lady" she never saw again. And whether her visits to the Marristons at the Priory continued or not, I cannot say.
Nor can I tell you the after history of the cousins, though something whispers to me that their lives were happy. But it all happened a long time ago. I cannot go over to Grey Rocks, for I do not know, to tell the truth, in what part of old Ireland it stands. Possibly still, in some forgotten corner of a deserted attic are hidden away the enchanted trunks, no one guessing their fairy powers! Who can say, though I am sure most of us wish that they, or others of their kind, belonged to us.
How delightful it would be!
THE END