"I am most grateful to you. I believe you have done what is best--at least what you think best. You have made my mother very happy, and Terence will be so pleased; and the tenants--oh! they will get their rights now, their cabins will be repaired, the roofs mended, the windows put in fresh, the little gardens stocked for them. Oh, yes, you are behaving most generously. Anyone would suppose the place belonged to you."
"Which it does," muttered Mr. Hartrick under his breath.
"You have made a great many people happy, only somehow--somehow it is not quite the way to make my father happy, and it is not the way to make me happy. But I have nothing more to say, except that I cannot leave my father now."
"You must come to us after Christmas, then," said Mr. Hartrick. "I must go back next week, and I shall probably take Molly with me."
"Oh! leave her with me here," said Nora suddenly. "I do wish you would; the air here is so healthy. Do let her stay, and then perhaps after Christmas, when things are different, we might both go back."
"Of course things will be different," said Mr. Hartrick. "A new doctor is coming to see your father next week, and he will probably change the _regime_; he may order him fresh air, and before long we shall have him strong and well amongst us again. He has absolutely nothing wrong except----"
"Except that he has everything wrong," said Nora.
"Well, well, my dear child, I will think over your suggestion that Molly should stay with you; and in the meantime remember that we are all coming to O"Shanaghgan for Christmas."
"All of you!" said Nora in dismay.
"Yes, all of us. Your aunt has never spent a real old-fashioned Christmas in her life, and I mean her to have it this year. I shall bring over some of our English habits to this place. We will roast an ox whole, and have huge bonfires, and all kinds of things, and the tenantry shall have a right good time. There, Nora, you smile; that pleases you."
"You are so kind," she said. She clasped his hands in both of hers, and then turned away.
"There never was anyone kinder," thought the girl to herself; "but all the same he does not understand." She re-entered the house and went up to her father"s room.
The Squire was lying on his back. The days were now getting short, for November had begun. There was a big fire in the grate; the Squire panted in the hot room.
"Just come in here," he said to Nora. "Don"t make much noise; lock the door--will you, pet?"
Nora obeyed.
"Now fling the window wide open; let me get a breath of air."
Nora did open the window, but the air was moist and damp from the Atlantic, and even she, fearless as she was, hesitated when she heard her father"s cough.
"There, child, there," he said; "it"s the lungs beginning to work properly again. Now then, you can shut it up; I hear a step. For Heaven"s sake, Nora, be quick, or your mother may come in, and won"t she be making a fuss! There, unlock the door."
"But you are worse, father; you are worse."
"What else can you expect? They don"t chain up wild animals and expect them to get well. I never lived through anything of this sort before, and it"s just smothering me."
Mrs. O"Shanaghgan entered the room.
"Patrick," she said, "would you like some sweetbread and a bit of pheasant for your dinner?"
"Do you know what I"d like?" roared the Squire. "A great big mealy potato, with a pinch of salt."
Mrs. O"Shanaghgan uttered a sigh, and the color rushed into her pale cheeks.
"Upon my word," she said, "you are downright vulgar."
The Squire gave a feeble guffaw. Nora"s heart beat as she noticed how feeble it was. She left the room, because she could not stay there another moment. The time had come to act. She had hesitated long, but she would hesitate no longer. She ran downstairs. The first person she saw was Molly.
"Well," said Molly, "how is he?"
"Very bad indeed," said Nora; "there"s not a moment to lose.
Something must be done, and quickly."
"What can be done?"
"Come out with me; I have a thought in my head."
Nora and Molly went outside. They crossed the avenue, went along the plantation at the back, and soon found themselves in the huge yard which flanked the back of the house. In a distant part of the yard was a barn, and this barn Nora now entered. It was untidy; the doors fitted badly; the floor was of clay. It was quite empty.
Nora gave a sigh of relief.
"I dreamed of this barn last night," she said. "I think it is the very place,"
"For what, Nora; for what?"
"I am going to have father moved here to-day."
"Nora, what nonsense you are talking! You will kill him."
"Save his life, you mean," said Nora. "I am going to get a bedstead, a straw pailla.s.se, and an old hard mattress, and I am going to have them put here; and we"ll get a bit of tarpaulin to put on the floor, to prevent the damp coming up; and I"ll put a curtain across this window so that he needn"t have too much draught, the darling; and there shall be nothing else in the room except a wooden table. He shall have his potatoes and salt, and his bit of salt bacon, if he wishes, and he shall have his great big bare room. I tell you what it is, Molly, he"ll never get well unless he is brought here."
"What a girl you are! But how will you do it?"
"Leave it to me. Do you mind driving with me on the outside car as far as Cronane?"
"The outside car? I have never been on it yet."
"Oh, come along; I"ll introduce you to the sweetest conveyance in the world."
Nora"s spirits rose at the thought of immediate action.
"Won"t it surprise and delight him?" she said. She went up to one of the grooms. He was an English groom, and was somewhat surprised at the appearance of the young lady in the yard.
"What can I do for you, miss?" he said.
"I want Angus," answered Nora. "Where is he?"
Angus was one of the few old Irish servants who were still left at Castle O"Shanaghgan. He now came forward in a sheepish kind of way; but when he saw Nora his face lit up.
"Put one of the horses to the outside car at once--Black Bess if you can," said Nora.
"Yes, miss," said the man, "with all the pleasure in life."
"Don"t take it round to the front door. Miss Molly and I want to drive to Cronane. You needn"t come with us, Angus; just put the horse to, and I"ll drive myself."